For you, a diversion

Mondays. Oh dear. They may as well be called Moandays, right??? They’re bad enough on their own, I know I know, what with having to be back at work or school, back to the same asphyxiating, soul-sapping grind. (Except for those with non-traditional schedules, to whom Wednesday, for example, may be the hated day. To those people: Please do not read this now. Please come back on Wednesday. Thank you.) And it’s even worse if, for some reason, you are compelled to step on the scale after a weekend of bloated bacchanalia and see real live numerical evidence that you are, indeed, a gelatinous glutton with no hope of redemption.
So, with that in mind, and because I love you all so very very much and want only the best for you, I have a little game for you today. Take a look at these two pictures of a dish in which part of my lunch was served yesterday:

A circus clown at the bottom of the dish is for babies.
Now, tell me. What was in the dish? What was so delish?

Mondays, like Fridays, deserve their own special catch phrase. But don’t you worry your pretty little heads: I’ve already come up with one. Three years ago, in fact. Remember?