Half-Assed Homemaker

I had just julienned and roasted some potatoes. I had some with may late breakfast and was about to put the rest away. "Mom will like these." I thought. Mom! Crap! I had barely bought enough for myself at the farmer's market. The additional mouth to feed is not so much a problem (actually two because I imagine sister will be around for meals). It's just that I don't have the standard Indian food raw materials on hand.

I had cooked all my potatoes, had no eggplant, a scant two onions, half a bulb of weak Mexican garlic, and I just finished the dregs of a chili in my tomatillo salsa. Luckily the Farmer's Market wasn't scheduled to end for ten minutes. I hopped on ye olde bike and buzzed over there. "Walk the bike" kindly armed peace officer informed me. I left it there on a sidewalk and checked out what was left over. I got a few pounds of red potatoes and various slender eggplant. I picked out two perky looking white onions. On to the next booth for a bush of cilantro and some more bulbs of garlic, it's weak so we get to use a lot. I also got a giant bushel of Thai chilies, sounds yummy. I wish I got more bunches of spinach when they were available, I now have a healthy amount for salad purposes or a modest dish of saag.

I came home to some well steeped tea and the hiss of the inner groove of the record I was playing.