It all started on Sunday.
I cooked an egg in the microwave.
It was the highlight of the week in cooking.
(It was actually a perfectly fine egg. I beat the egg in a mug and added feta cheese, and cooked for about 50 seconds; it was pretty much cooked just the way I wanted it, and it was in the perfect shape for putting on a biscuit.)
On Sunday night I made this sort of green curry with tofu and vegetables, even though I knew that my curry paste, which I bought QUITE a while ago, had very little taste and that the resulting product would probably be blah. It was extremely blah.
I also made red lentil–bulgur wraps, which have literally no taste whatsoever and are an odd texture. I had to make sriracha mayonnaise to put on them to make them palatable.
AND I made homemade tortillas, because the ones at the grocery store had approximately sixty ingredients and were insanely expensive. (I am as much a fan of chemical food as anyone, but only in things like Doritos. Tortillas are just supposed to be tortillas.) They taste like store-bought tortillas—i.e. completely uninteresting—and were not fun to make.
OMG Fitzpatrick will not get his face out of my cereal. (Which is stale by the way.)
See how sad he looks. Why is his face on his foot?
I need food help.