Produce Graveyard

My house is where produce goes to die.

It wasn’t always like this. It used to be a place where produce was approached with excitement and every fruit or veggie was like an episode of Chopped waiting to happen. I reveled in the opportunity to make veggies even more appetizing. After all, the best part of a veggie is that it can serve as a vessel for a myriad of other things I like eating including salt, butter, sauces, and of course cheese. A large part of my produce preferences are based on what condiment they can ferry into my salivating face hole.

When I say “I loved baked potatoes,” what I’m really saying is “I love butter, cheese, bacon, and sour cream”. When I rave about broccoli, I’m salivating over the garlic butter and parmesan cheese I’m going to toss them in after I roast them. And when I act gaga over salad, it’s totally the unethical amounts of cheese and salad dressing that I’m lusting after. Sure, I’ll ACT like I was craving the vegetables but you know the truth. I can Paula Deen a vegetable into a cardiologists nightmare faster than you can say Butternut Squash.

Many of you may recall my quest to marry food and laziness by registering for a garden box delivery. Well, it’s time to report the results. It was a raging success and a horrific failure at the same time.

First let’s cover the raging success. The day our first garden box was delivered ended up being a horrible day for a box delivery. A serious of unfortunate events that day wore me slam out and hubs was recovering from surgery so the day it came, I literally just kicked it inside the door and left it…FOR THREE DAYS. Yes, a box of fresh produce (including lettuce) sat in our house for three days completely unattended. When I finally got around to opening it, it was with great trepidation. I almost expected to find myself face to face with a box of gooey vegetable bits partially decomposed into a broth of sadness. Instead I found like 2 or 3 leaves of lettuce had to be tossed and everything else was fine. The zucchinis were free of stab wounds or mold (and we all know how fast zucchini can mold). The lettuce was still crisp. The entire box was impressively well-preserved considering its total lack of attention.

The raging failure we encountered was my own. Instead of having the energy to Paula Deen everything into cardiac arrest worthy dishes, we were so simultaneously incapacitated and exhausted that we allowed more than I’m totally comfortable admitting go bad. We did manage to use some of it but situations being what they were, not nearly enough to not feel totally guilty for the waste. For that failure, I feel awful.

There was an eggplant dish and a few snacks of fruit but I probably would have done the world a better service by just having the box shipped directly to those starving kids on the other side of the globe that my mom warned me about whenever I didn’t finish my string beans. While my guilt cannot be assuaged, I can assure you that the situation isn’t entirely my fault. My pregnancy has triggered a flare of my autoimmune disease so severe that I’m actually now  banned from standing or walking any more than necessary. Each day has become an endless battle against inflammation in my hip joints and I can be heard coming from quite a long ways away now between the chorus of ouches accompanied by the constant popping of my hip and knee joints. As a result, hubs has been responsible for feeding me of late and the fact that me and the baby are still alive and well proves that he’s doing a pretty good job of it even if he refuses to procure banana milkshakes for me every single day of the week in the name of preventing gestational diabetes (I’ve been getting about one a week which is plenty but baby totally wants more of them).

However, after the baby is born, I do want to give the garden box another go. Once I can get back to my weekend cooking and creativity without tears of excruciating pain, I think the garden box is an excellent way to get a good variety of fresh fruits and vegetables that are locally sourced. In the mean time, someone sent me a list of some meals you can put into freezer bags and freeze until you need them and then dump into a crock pot and we’ll be compiling some of those for use after the baby is born. I’m open to more such freezer/crock pot meals you might have tried also. Please comment and share your ideas so hubs and I can put this plan into action. If my autoimmune disease continues to eat my hips, I may end up on bed rest so we should probably get these plans into action sooner rather than later.

In the mean time, I’m going to continue to try to get used to letting hubs wait on me but it really isn’t easy. I always feel guilty asking him to make anything for dinner more complicated than a peanut butter sandwich. He’s totally willing to take care of me but I just can’t seem to let go of my own hang-ups about not being able to do for myself. Being pregnant is hard. Being pregnant with an autoimmune disease trying to eat your joints is harder. But getting over my own mental hang-ups about having to have someone wait on me, that’s actually proving to be the hardest. I’m just so used to being self-sufficient. Please help me cope in my time of need. Send banana milkshakes…for the baby.



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