Thin Mint Revelations

I don't know about you, but my very favorite Girl Scout Cookie flavor is Thin Mint.

No...not because they're in a green box. ;) Although that is a nice coincidence considering the title of my blog.

I have always been a fan of that perfectly balanced, crunchy mint-chocolate chip combination. And oh buddy, when you put them in the freezer?! Delectable. They should come with a warning like Lay's potato chips...cause you know you can't eat just one.

Anyway, I've been sitting here looking at my quickly depleting stash of Thin Mints, and it makes me a little sad. No, not because four cookies have 160 calories. (Sorry to whoever didn't want to know that).

No...I'm sad because I know once my boxes run out, that will be it. And I'm wondering: why, oh why aren't Girl Scout cookies available all year? Why do we have to wait a whole year for Thin Mints to come back around?

This may be a little bit heretical, but I'd like to liken this rationing of Thin Mint goodness to the plight of the Israelites wandering through the desert. Humor me and hang with my extended metaphor for a minute...

God gave them manna, and the Israelites could take as much as they needed each day. But do you remember what happened if they tried to stockpile it so they didn't have to gather it each morning? That's right. Maggots.

God wants to give us just enough for each day so that we stay dependent on Him and trust Him to provide for everything we need.

The really striking part of the story, to me, is that in spite of what God had graciously, generously given, the Israelites were always griping and complaining.

They didn't trust Him.

They weren't happy with just enough.

They wanted more than they had received.

They lost faith quite often and sometimes didn't even believe they would ever make it to the Promised Land.

Wow. That sure sounds a lot like me.

Now I know:
If God gave out Girl Scout badges, I'd still be earning my Trust badge. I bet it would have a Thin Mint on it.

Dinner for One

So (one of) the (many) downside(s) of being single (1) is having to cook dinner for one (1).

I'm thinking of it like a math equation. Cook + 4 + 1 = BIG TIME BUMMER.

I try not to eat fast food. I certainly have a love affair with Chick-fil-a... but all those waffle fries aren't doing a thing for my "wobbly bits," as Bridget Jones would say. I try my best to eat healthy and include lots of colors in my daily diet. Not to wane esoteric, but do all the colors of peanut M&Ms count???

Sidenote: Tim Hawkins has written an extremely clever ode to the world's best fast food restaurant. Check it.



Anyway, I also have a lifelong hatred of leftovers. I'm not gonna make a casserole that I have to eat 3 meals a day for the next 10 days. Uh-uh. Not gonna do it. I always admired my old roommate Darsey (shout out! miss ya girl!) for making big pots of Brunswick Stew and eating on that thing til the pot was dry. She's a fan of leftovers. Me....not so much.

So, back to the idea of today's post. My quest to make myself dinner tonight.

I come home after a FANTASTIC arts integration workshop at 7:00 pm, wearily open the refrigerator door.

Close it. Open the freezer. Poke around at ancient bags of frozen vegetables. Gross.

Open the refrigerator again.

Since there is nothing to my liking I go for the canned goods. I notice towards the back a large can of Progresso French Onion Soup covered with a thin layer of dust.

I don't have any real bread to go in it, so I get out a stale bagel-thin from the refrigerator, tear it up, and find an almost-expired piece of sliced provolone cheese to put on top!

As I settle down on the couch to take my first bite, I nearly spit it out. The broth was watery and weirdly sweet. It also tasted like a can. I have a weird thing about canned soup tasting like a can. (Definite food issues....I know.) The bread was soggy, but not in the right way. It tasted like a yellow dish sponge. The cheese was also old and tasted musty. Like goat cheese - which always smells like gym sneakers to me.

Not to be defeated, I head back to the fridge for another look. Don't see a thing. Notice a bag of rice in the freezer that you can steam in the microwave. I take it out and also notice a bag of frozen grilled chicken pieces that have been in there forever. Perfect! Some protein!

Just in the nick of time I remember a bag of dusty can of black beans that was near the soup in my other cabinet. "Excellent!" I thought. "Black beans with chicken and rice. Totally carby, but at least it will be hot and filling. Just what I need after the soup du jour disaster."

So I put the chicken in a pan with some olive oil. It smells weird. I look at the date on the bag. Expired 5/2010. Oops.

The result was a bland beans and rice mixture that had me feeling like I was back in Nicaragua for breakfast. I ate about three bites and gave up.

Now I'm going back to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal.

Now I know:
Growing up eating mom's insanely delicious homemade meals really spoiled me.
AND
I need to clean out my freezer more often.
AND
I can't wait to have a family to cook for. :)