I'm eating jubjubes for dinner. For those of you who automatically think to yourselves, "hmmm, Lorraine must be out of Alpha Bits" I say....well, I am, but that's not the reason.
The reason is that whenever I go to Arlene and John Boich's house, they have a keg of jubjubes on the table. They also have a jar of cashews on the counter. And tons of other great food, because they don't have children who eat said food the second it comes into the house. And the jubjubes they have are the soft gushy kind which mean they are high-end jujubes and not the cheap-o ones I'm eating that came from No Frills.
I was at their house on my way to No Frills. And of course I ate some of their awesome jujubes, and when I saw them at the store, I had to buy them.
I've cooked the past three nights, which around here amounts to a tryout for Next Great Chef or some such nonsense. Three dinners, three nights - IN A ROW - means I'm cooked out.
The boys were told I'd make grilled cheese, or they could fend for themselves. Both opted for the sandwiches, because they're lazy little cusses. But I do go gourmet: For Ari, I stuffed really good mozzarella into a sandwich with pepperoni. I told him it was grilled cheese pizza. Christer came in and spied the two sandwiches I had for him, and promptly assembled another one.
And while rumour has it I believe melting cheese on pretty much anything is the gateway to heaven, I realized the only thing I wanted was jujubes.
So, glass of wine and nasty little chewy bits.