working lunches

Here are some examples of what I put in my belly when I find myself at home over the lunch hour.

On my way home from work one day, I bought a little bunch of
bright red, crispy radishes, the green tops still attached.

I
tore in half a piece of fresh-from-the-bakery piece of
bread, mashed an avocado into it, stuck radish slices all over the top, and then spritzed it with
lime and sprinkled it with salt.

And it was good.

I realize this looks like something your dog might leave on the doorstep, but it was delicious. At least, I thought it was delicious. The rest of the family thought otherwise and didn’t mind telling me so.

I got the recipe from Tamar Adler’s beautiful book, An Everlasting Meal. Full of white beans, bread, greens, tomatoes, garlic, etc, the stew is flavorful and comforting and fortifying.

I want to go to Italy.

This was not lunch lunch, but the end of a lunch. Which lunch it was, I do not know. Nor do I care. And if I were to be completely honest, this may have been breakfast.

I am trying to learn how to make brownies with local ingredients. I’m still not completely satisfied, but I’m getting closer. 

Oh, and a glass of water. 

I love crackers and peanut butter. It’s my go-to pick-me-up. (After coffee, gummy candy, and chocolate.)

Again, not exactly lunch, but eaten at my desk just the same.

These dry, sweet cookies are similar to sugar cookies but less sweet, and like shortbread but less rich. They’re perfect for dunking and traveling. Each cookie costs four pennies.

In today’s case: sweet and sour lentils, rice, and buttered carrots.

And then there was a little earthquake that I didn’t notice (except I did hear the tin roof thumping and paused to look outside and puzzle over the fact that it wasn’t roof-banging windy), and then I had a little package of Chiky cookies (chocolate-dipped shortbread wafers) and some sweetened black coffee.