and in the area of entirely too much information:

we are watching the sopranos, apres le diner.

i was blogging and reading, watching news out of the corner of my eye on the couch down, david snoozing fitfully in his beloved recliner.

damned if he didn't wake up and ask about food.

we did have some things i could prepare. so i did. he called for his fork and he called for his knife and he asked for "not that red wine stuff but some garlic lemon chicken, the same stuff but not with the stuff on the top" (code for: no parmesan please) so a few minutes into jeop, i became the kitchen hustler.

which, dear reader, i certainly don't dislike. "yeah pasta is okay but i don't know about salad" but i made some for me and he had a little. cherry tomatoes, halved and marinated in red wine vinagrette and olive oil, s&p, and 1/4 seeds from a pomegranate. before eating, added some baby lettuces and chopped pistachios.

and the chicken was easy, really. broiled some chicken thighs that had slivers of garlic under the skin, lemon juice covered, lemon peel sprinkled, italian herbs on top, and then swathed in olive oil.

okay. enough. enough already. it's just that, well, elizabeth might care. if she can find a chicken. in lent. in ethiopia.

ha!