falafel
I had soaked chick-peas a week ago. They have been sitting, drained in my fridge for over a week.
Today, I marinated chicken drumsticks in a shawarma marinade, and made a caper, salt, pepper and lemon marinade for salmon. I took the chickpeas out, shopped parsley, cilantro, and mixed seasonings, and fried up some falafel. Later, probably this weekend, I will make cream-cheese and chive-stuffed mushroom caps. I will share those with my family.
I eat well. I cook. I work. I earn. I exercise. I read. I have to stop ranting about this one co-worker. I am human. I am flawed. Thank goodness.
I love when I cook. I feel so good when I cook. For so long I had so much trauma around cooking. But now I really love it. I want to try this potato technique my dad does. I will ask him this weekend and trade him in the baked mushroom caps.
I have offerings. I can offer. I can bring.
But I don’t really. I am still too shy. But I like the thought of it.
Today was a good day. Today I am good tired.
