Hunterer Gatherering Nothing on Sunday
I walked around all afternoon and into the early evening, looking for something to eat. Market off 3rd. South Street. Queen Village. The Italian Market. Yes, the one from "Rocky." Three and a half hours. Nothing.
There was plenty of food to be had, certainly. And I'd hardly eaten all day, so I was quite hungry, but nothing appealed to me. It was all unappetizing, at best, or else its very existence somehow annoyed me. I craved a Jersey-style pizza with that leathery crust, but not Lorenzo's. I don't care for their sauce. Anyway, they were closed.
Eventually, I gave up, went home, and put on a pot of water for pasta. Soon enough, tiny bubbles clung to steel walls, foretelling a roiling, boiling future of starchy goodness. I turned the stove off and poured the water down the drain, refilling the saucepan with a concoction of fire-roasted corn, red chili flakes, black pepper, honey, and cream. It was pretty good, but now I have indigestion.
Mondays are when I typically order groceries. It's expensive but saves a lot of time and helps me avoid at least one crowded place I don't want to be in any longer than necessary. I will make it a point to buy foods that keep well and don't require much preparation or cleanup, even if they aren't the healthiest for me. It's going to be a busy week.