pink quinoa pilaf

Officer, it wasn’t my fault. I fully intended to purchase both gorgonzola and dried cranberries on the way home from yoga tonight, but the gorgonzola wasn’t looking so hot and, after checking the label, I realized that the dried cranberries were going to make my blood sugar vault up to Mount Olympus. Instead, I bought some pomegranate seeds and fresh mozzarella and got the hell out of there. When I got back to headquarters, I took last night’s boiled beets, along with the quinoa cooked in the same water, and sprinkled the pomegranate seeds, chopped mozzarella, and some fresh mint on top. And I ate it before I remembered to add the walnuts or the lemon juice, because I went to a Level 2 Vinyasa class and it was all I could do not to devour my mat. Or the instructor’s book of Neruda poems. Or a classmate.

I’m not going to lie, Officer. Breaking the law felt good. It felt almost as good as it tasted. Next time I would probably go the slightly more traditional route and use goat cheese, gorgonzola, or feta, but tonight the creaminess of the mozzarella soothed my asana-wearied soul. I’m also not sure whether or not walnuts are even necessary in a pink quagmire like this, but lemon juice and a little zest might have taken it up to a solid ten. And lime juice, lime zest? Up to eleven.

All right, I’m not saying anything else until I speak to my attorney.


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