Sticking to my word
/OK, I did not opt to indulge in our cereal selection for dinner. Rather, I made a carrot-harissa salad I've been wanting to make for ages. Just look at this! Beautiful! However, you are supposed to let it sit overnight, so I'll have to enjoy it tomorrow. As I sadly put it in the fridge, I saw an Arctic Char filet I'd forgotten I bought (a day or two ago, peeps; don't worry) so decided that I couldn't possibly NOT cook it as that would be wasteful.
I set it up to pan sauté and in the meantime got the harissa back out to make a crème fraîche-harissa sauce. I planned to add some chopped Cara Cara oranges and Persian cucumbers to the dish but in a momentary lapse of judgment stirred them into the sauce instead of keeping them separate. Oh man. When atop the fish, it looked like a giant, lumpy, melted creamsicle had been barfed over my filet. Milky oranginess was everywhere, so I just closed my eyes and jumped in. Despite the hue and terrible lack of textural complexity, the flavor combo was OK, and it went nicely with the Muga Rosé I'm enjoying (sucking down). Also a chocolate hamantashen is thawing on the counter and will be so, so enthusiastically devoured by me in the not too distant future.
Have you heard of phantom limb, the sensation that a missing limb is still attached to the body? I feel there is a corollary that I call phantom baby crying. You are pretty sure (or have even gone in to verify) that your kid(s) are asleep, but no matter how much proof you have that they are, you remain certain that you hear them calling for you ceaselessly.