Remember when I used to share fabulous food fotos on a regular basis, back in the good ol’ days when I had the supreme luxury of being a lady who lunched seemingly at least twice a day, and you used to be supremely jealous of me for being able to wear pillbox hats in all the finest vegetarian venues in town, while you were stuck at whatever passes for a desk in your dreary, fluorescent-lit cubicle, carving away with a penknife at the mysterious mold invading the block of cheese you kept in a little locked box inside your unlocked file cabinet? Well, although you may still be whittling that cheese, I no longer have quite as much luxury. At least not during the week. But on the weekends, all hell breaks loose, and I am entitled to indulge in such masterpieces as this:
Indian buffet from Taj Palace
Feel free to inform me that this food looks like it has already been digested.
Also feel free to identify the different components!
Disclaimer: I only had two of these balls.
These are my boyfriend’s. (insert snicker here)
He said they were like a little family, which of course
led me to say, “Ball in the family.”
(insert admiration for my lightning-quick pun-ability here)
Today I also blatantly flouted Jewish law by riding in a motorcoach to Jew-rich Teaneck, New Jersey, on the Sabbath, thereby causing my boyfriend to tell me I was being “Shabbad” and me adding extra hilarity bonus points by dubbing myself a “Shabbad-ass”, complete with a full-body gesture that illustrated the enormity of my debauchery. (insert you peeing in your pants here)
See, I may not be a lady who lunches as frequently as I used to, but when I lunch, I lunch lusciously. And hilariously.