Do you ever just have one of those days? Usually they put me in a bad mood. It starts out by waking up to a dirty dishwasher because I forgot to push start the night before. Or Charlotte wets the bed (potty training. We’re almost done. How did I live before?). Or a simple headache can do you in some days. Yesterday started out like that, and kept going, and going. Until it got to the point that I felt like I was watching a movie of someone’s horrible day, and somehow, somehow, it became wildly entertaining instead of maddening. I had to run to the grocery store for mozzarella cheese and cherry tomatoes. That’s it, just the cheese and tomatoes. So I walked in thinking, it’s just cheese and cherry tomatoes, who needs a cart? My baby doesn’t weigh 18 pounds or anything.
Produce section. Charlotte is in charge of carrying the cherry tomatoes. Throws a fit because she doesn’t want to trade out her box for the cheaper brand that I found. I remember that we are out of regular tomatoes, and lettuce. No problem. I’ve still got one hand. We head over to the deli, passing the milk on the way, which I remember that we are running low on, but this 18 pounder is starting to feel heavy, and I wisely pass it by (now we are out of milk.) Charlotte, where is the box of cherry tomatoes? In the middle of the floor. 3 aisles ago. Cherry tomatoes recovered, we continue toward the cheese. BOOM. Cherry tomatoes, rolling in every direction. It’s a good thing Truman has learned to sit up, otherwise I would have had to lay his head down on the tile while I gather up cherry tomatoes, which Charlotte has already stepped on 3 of.
We find the cheese. Then I remember that I should grab some fries from the deli counter to put in the background of the photos I am taking of a beef sandwich I made. “I want those fries, please.” “Those are cold and stale, give me 7 minutes and I’ll get you some fresh ones.” Nope, I just want to take pictures of them, I couldn’t care less if they are stale. (Being a food blogger makes you a total freak.) The next lady in line takes pity on me after I drop my wallet 3 times trying to pay .63 cents for the fries, and hands me a basket to put my things in, which for some reason I can’t find the handles of. Where could they possibly be, if not on top? I finally shove the 18-pounder football style under my arm, and was about to hoist the basket on my other hip, laundry style. The lady gives me another pity look and pulls up the handles for me. Then as I’m pulling out of the parking lot I almost hit a woman crossing the street. She probably gave me the finger after I started laughing, in a breathless, what-has-happened-to-my-life sort of way.
These sweet potatoes are smokin’. I don’t mean in a super-hot way, just in a smoky way. This recipe is so simple: The sweet potatoes. Some butter. Chipotle. Bacon and green onions…aaaaand that’s it. So easy, so amazing. Obviously these are not your typical marshmallow sweet potatoes. I don’t even like sweet potatoes when they are sweet. But mash em up savory style and now we’re talkin’. These could honestly even replace regular mashed potatoes, especially if you are serving Thanksgiving to people who are watching their waistlines. But who am I kidding. I’ll never give up regular mashed potatoes. You don’t blow off a date with George Clooney just because Brad Pitt is in town.
