Finally Pasta!

As a nice Italian Girl, you would have expected that I'd have posted pictures of pasta earlier or more often.  (Actually, maybe I have.  I can't keep track anymore.)  The truth is:  I eat pasta so often, that I don't think it's "special" enough for this blog.   I mean, what's the point about writing about something you eat all the time? 

Did you really think there would be leftovers?

I know what you're thinking -- if you actually exist and are reading this --, you're thinking "What about coffee?  Do you know how many stupid pictures of Chartreuse Mug you've subjected me to?"  But coffee is special!  Coffee is always special!  The mere act of preparing and drinking a coffee is special. 

I would go so far to say that Chartreuse Mug deserves its own blog.  Something like "Life According to Chartreuse Mug".   It's coming.  You don't have to read it -- and I'm sure you won't -- but it's coming.  That's what happens when you offer free blogging.


In other words:  lay off the coffee.

Anyways: pasta.

The other night we made a big vat of meat sauce.  Please note that pasta and meat sauce is not the same as "Pasta Bolognese".  Bolognese sauce is some kind of magic, voodoo, slow-simmer sauce made with pork sausage and minimal tomato.  The Bolognese people are very sensitive about it. 

What we made was ground beef, fried with garlic and hot pepper, covered in pulverised canned tomato and then simmered for 20 minutes, just to warm it up.  Yeah, it sounds lame, but it's pretty damned tasty, especially when you smother it all in ground parmiggiano reggiano and wash it down with red wine.  And who are you to argue with me, a Genuine Italian Girl Who Learned How To Cook From Her Italian Mother? 

And, most importantly, who are you to argue with the clean plates?

How Much Yoga Do I Have to Do to Burn Off My Lunch?

Do you remember The Raccoons? You know, that Canadian cartoon about a bunch of scrappy raccoons that prevented some evil aardvarks and their piggy minions from ruining their forest? Of course you do because I'm talking to myself here. I mean, I even remember that the theme song for The Raccoons was called Run With Us and was sung by a chick that I confused with Alanis (pre-Morissette). I also remember that The Raccoons debut was on some education kids show about fitness.

Of course, I also seem to remember that that guy from The Guess Who was somehow mixed up in all this, so it might not be totally accurate.

Anyways.

300 Calories?

The point is that on this fitness show, some old guy and a pig would demonstrate how many minutes of physical activity you'd have to do to burn off the calories in foods. Like you'd need to do half an hour of jogging to burn off a chocolate bar.

And full-fat yogurt, too!

This is salient because today, before lunch, I went to the gym. In a fit of post-New Year's resolution fanaticism, the gym posted the expected number of burnt calories per class. The yoga class I attended boasted 300 to 600 burnt calories. That probably took care of the VIA Xmas Bleuch, cheese string and Japanese rice crackers I had in the morning, but it was all negated by my lunch of leftover black bean and sausage soup with avocado I had after the class. I did, though, opt not to drink one of the millions of cans of Sprite currently sitting in the office fridge, so there's that.

Fart Food

I remembered to take pictures of the black bean and sausage soup only after I washed the dishes. 

For once that the stupid soup turned out well -- and it was Spousal Unit who made it!  Dammit! -- I forgot to take pictures of the empty plates.  The soup was garnished with avocado cubes and everything.  

Soup is No Longer Served

I think the reason why the black bean soup came out so well was because of the pork fat in the sausage.  I think if that sausage hadn't been in it, Spousal Unit's soup would have tasted just as bland as my totally vegetarian version usually does.  But that's why they make Tabasco sauce.