Clotilde Dusolier’s Savory Zucchini Crumble with Figs and Ricotta

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I had the booty call version of an MRI on Wednesday.

I know, right – what does that even MEAN?!?!?

It means that at 9:30 pm, in the middle of a sultry October night, I took an elevator (quite bravely, might I add) down two floors into the sub-basement of a building on 72nd street between York Avenue and East End.

And while I was half expecting Patrick Dempsey to be down there with a coy, seductive look on his face that pretty much said “take me now”.  All I got was one of those awful hospital gowns that never really closes right and a completely motionless hour in a tube during which magnetic rays were shot through every millimeter of my right hip and pelvis.

(It was basically the worst booty call of all time.)

At the end of it, all I got were about five thousand films of my innermost organs that my roommate and I spent an hour trying to use all of our medical school skillz to read.  Quite fruitlessly.

In the end, we diagnosed me with a blurry pelvis and went to bed.

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Pumpkin Hazelnut Cookies with a Brown Sugar Glaze

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At mile 22 of any marathon. Everyone, across the board, is angry.

You’re angry at yourself, your spouse, your coaches, your best friend…anyone who told you that this was a good idea.  (Really, the only reason you keep trudging yourself towards that finish line is because you want to smack them and you want to smack them NOW.  In fact…they should be the ones running.  Away from you.)

You’re angry at that person on the side of the road who keeps telling you you’re almost there.  Seriously?  Four miles is not almost.  Especially not when every step feels like a mile and every minute feels like a lifetime and you’ve been on your feet for FOUR HOURS.  (You might smack that person on the side of the road.  And really?  No one would blame you for it.)

You’re angry at anyone who is faster than you because they are probably sitting in an ice bath right now at this very moment.  (You would give anything for an ice bath right now.  That’s how desperate things have gotten.)

You’re angry at anyone who is slower than you because maybe their legs hurt less?  I don’t know.  There’s no good reason to be mad at these people…but you just are.  You would turn around and smack them too but…that would mean more running.  No judgment.  I understand. I’ve been there.

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Cheddar Scallion Scones

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These cheddar scallion scones are perfect for those of us (and I use the term “us” loosely, by the way) who prefer not to have cake for breakfast.  Check out the recipe and my post on Marcus Samuelsson’s blog!

You are reading this post on Eats Well With Others at https://joanne-eatswellwithothers.com. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author and or owner of Eats Well With Others. All rights reserved by Joanne Bruno.

Fall Bruschetta

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Sometimes I feel so bad about all the eating I’ve done in a given weekend that I force myself to watch badder than bad tv at the gym.  As punishment.

Yesterday it was The Real World.

You probably can’t imagine how it could have been that bad.  But I have two words for you.  Biscoff spread.  ‘Nuff said.

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Honey Pumpkin Muffins with Cream Cheese Frosting

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Let’s get one thing straight.

If anyone and I mean anyone (law enforcing individuals or otherwise) comes knocking at your door asking about the six storage units that I may or may not have rented under six different aliases…you know nothing.

I know, I know…you have a thing for men in uniform and perjury isn’t really your thing.

But seriously?  For the love of pumpkin, keep it in your pants, okay!?

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Nutty Sweet Potato Soup with Harissa and Spinach

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Sometimes I wonder about my moral integrity.

You see, right now I’m pretty mad at Patrick Dempsey (aka McDreamy aka Derek Shepherd) for the way he’s treating Meredith.

True, she has a totally annoying whiny voice and a totally obnoxious way of being introspective at the most inopportune times and her hair really isn’t even all that great all the time.  But are you really going to let a clinical trial that probably wasn’t going to make it past Phase I anyway stand in the way of true love?

(Derek – get with the program!)

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