Preface: Allow me to introduce you to the tastiest, yummiest salad and the easiest meal ever. I am a total sucker for all those links proffering “Weeknight Meals in 20 Minutes!” blah blah blah Rachel Ray blah blah. And then you click it, and all the recipes start with “Preheat oven to…” and “In a large skillet…”. NO. Heating things=cooking things=400 things to clean. Which is all well and good if cooking a nice dinner is the one extracurricular activity you planned for the evening, but if you’re interested in doing anything else with your time away from work, I require recipes that are more along the lines of combine-this-and-this-and-ta-da-you’re-done-collect-100-gold-star-wife-points.
Which is what this salads is! It is an exact replica of the Santorini salad from Sweet Green, which is one of the most delicious things in the universe, but, you know, prohibitively expensive for regular consumption.
The picture looks like dog barf but I swear it’s really good:
Here is the formula: Romaine+garbanzos+grapes+feta+shrimp+splash of lemon juice+Gazebo Room or whatever greek-ish dressing you have access to. BAM. The shrimpies were just the pre-spiced, pre-cooked ones from the cooler at the store. I guess it would be more laborious if you had to cook the shrimp.
Okay… Now… My commuting problem.
We had a little left over so I brought it in to eat at work today. (Gold star frugal wifey WOO!). I got around to eating it at like 3:00, so by the time I was rushing out the door at 5:10, the empty tupperware was still on my desk. I was in a super rush to make the 5:30 bus, so ended up just putting the lid back on the tupperware and throwing the whole thing in my purse and running out the door. Why didn’t I make my way to the office kitchen at 5:08 so I could rinse and dry it before departing? I don’t have the answer to this question. It’s probably the same reason that I, once again, was sprinting after the bus this morning like a wild woman because I cannot get my mess of a self to the corner at the proper time. Jeff is dumbfounded as to why I can’t wake up 60 seconds earlier so I don’t keep missing the bus by 10 seconds. It seems so simple, doesn’t it?
I had one of those foreshadowing moments of clarity as I was carelessly tossing the tupperware into my bag. Because from past experience I do know you cannot trust anything in a purse no matter how well you think it’s secured. I swear I’m just walking around with this thing over my shoulder at 2 miles per hour, I really don’t know where these crazy forces of physics and nature are coming from that turn my bag into a vessel of absolute destruction. You leave the office with everything perfectly nestled in the little compartments, and 30 minutes later it’s: Headphones? Crushed. Sunglasses? Dismembered. Wallet? Has inverted itself and dumped $8.54 in pennies into the purse abyss. Cell phone? It’s unlocked itself and is dialing someone who lived on your floor freshman year who is inexplicably still saved in your contacts 9 years later.
So as I’m looking at this tupperware with about 3/4 tablespoon of dressing residue swirling around the bottom, I’m very clearly saying in my head: Self….. seeeelf? This is not a good idea, self. Come on. Go be a good girl and rinse this thing out. BUT NO! I thought of my embarrassing morning moment and reminded myself that saving 60 seconds and catching the preferred bus would get me home 20 minutes earlier.
I was about 3 minutes into my commute when I noticed a slight liquidy sheen on my wallet as I swiped through the metro turnstile. Yep. Somehow, someway, the bond of bowl-to-lid had been compromised. Odd, because it was intact upon inspection! ONCE AGAIN… mysteries of the Bermuda Triangle of the Handbag.
And here is where the fun starts. One warning about my knock-off Sweet Green salad: SHRIMP-JUICE-RESIDUE-STUFF IS SMELLY. Like, WAY smelly. I’m not exaggerating. I wasn’t noticing it “only because I was looking for it.” I was most certainly aboard the train with a very strong fish stench wafting from my general direction. Lolololololol MORTIFYING.
It was kind of one of those moments where I was like… Is this going to be more awkward if I bring this up and explain it to the person next to me? (I decided yes, yes that would be more awkward). So now I feel like I need to post, like, a reverse missed connection on Craigslist:
M/F4W: Girl on Metro Who Stank Like Seafood. I promise there is a very real explanation for my fruits-of-the-sea odor and it is unrelated to any personal hygiene deficiencies. CALL ME!