Blueberry Yogurt Surprise
How do you know when you are old? When this sounds like a great idea:
A few weeks ago I saw this Lifehacker post Eight Foods You Should Eat Every Day. So I thought "why not mix a few of those together?" And I did:
Blueberry Yogurt surprise
Put 1/4 cup walnut halves, 1/8 cup dried blueberries, and 1/3 container of plan yogurt in a bowl. Cover with Uncle Sam cereal . Then pour on the soy milk (the aforementioned "surprise"). Yum!
I've been eating it for breakfast most days and it's great! Though I can't get The Bat to go anywhere near this stuff. I think she is repulsed by bean milk touching cattle milk. And she probably should be. At least she'll eat Uncle Sam. She used to hate and scorn it.
I remember that my dad and I got some Uncle Sam from a grocery store while camping at Cape Canaveral. I'm hazy on the trip itself, but I remember the cereal and looking out over water to see the space shuttle on the pad. My love of space ships as a kid makes sense. My love of a flax based cereal before the age of 45 doesn't. Yet still I consume boxes of the stuff.
Uncle Sam Tip #1: Buy it from Central Market; it's cheap as air there.
Uncle Sam Tip #2: Rinse out your bowl after eating. Those damn flax seeds will literally glue themselves to what ever they touch when they dry.
posted by gameboy at 10:08 PM
1 Comments:
how very Beat, if the Beats sounded castrated by media over-saturation rather than by T.S. Eliot. it almost reads like you're living with your Mom, but in an Alex Trebek wry humor coping method rather than a Kerouac learned helplessness. strike that: more in the way some character left on the cutting room floor of that flick -- the one with the chick with the horse face who smoked like a whore on that endless hbo series where she narrated her attempts to pretend at independence like an insecure junior high whore would if she was a teenage boy from a Karate Kid movie, the one who as a kid people tell me played that annoying bitch "annie" on broadway -- the flick where she gets hired by parents to get their middle-aged sons to finally move out of the nest. very pre-postmodern after-irony, that is to say ahead of your time by sneaking behind it guerrilla marketing style, down to the mis-spellings. performance art at what will some day be its peak. bravo.
7:02 AM
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