Today was crappy; there's no getting around it. Other than having little in the way of a voice and taking almost zero pleasure in motherhood (sad but true; these days happens but suck), I also scalded my left forearm with some boiling water. It really, really hurts. For whatever reason, I attempted to ameliorate my woes by going gangbusters with citrus. I made two-orange marmalade for a friend with a serious yen, a lemon cake with lemon glaze for us, lemon-ginger-honey tea for me, and citrusy shrimp tacos for dinner.
I'm not a marmalade gal, but this is a lovely concoction (Cara Caras and Valencias with a bit of candied ginger and St. Germain), and I hope my dear pal likes it.
The cake is fab (Oliver would have eaten the whole thing if I'd let him), and while I always love the shrimp tacos, the accompanying avocado creme was the real star for me tonight.
The Super Bowl has been such a vicarious battlefield pleasure. Chris Matthews?! What an incredible story- working at a Foot Locker when the Seahawks picked him up as a free agent. He was on fire tonight- wow! And the Pats' Julian Edelman? Equal wow!
But does anyone else find the nearly-naked cheer-dancer girls on the sidelines vaguely depressing?