>The Big O decided that he needs to lose weight and is going on a liquid diet. He began cleaning out his food supplied from his freezer, and ever conscious of waste, he thought he should offer the perishables to his friends before trashing them. Hence Husband and I received an email on Wednesday asking if we wanted a giant bag of frozen Swedish meatballs from Ikea.
I declined, but Husband jumped at the frozen meat delights. Big O came over the next night, also bearing a jar of Ikea lingonberry sauce, two Trader Joe’s frozen pizzas (“The pizzas are made in Italy!” he said excitedly), and more oddly, a box of blueberry scones from Starbucks, still in plastic wrap.
“Do you want some scones, too?” he asked.
“What are you doing with an entire box of blueberry scones from Starbucks?” I asked, eyeing the enormous grease stain in the bottom of the cardboard box. Oh, how I wanted the baked delicious goodness, but I resented the temptation.
“Oh, I stopped off at Starbucks on my way to an interview this morning,” he explained. “When I flirted with the girl behind the register, she asked me if wanted some free scones and gave me the box. It was awkward bringing them with me to the interview, though. Who carries around an entire box of blueberry scones from Starbucks?”
Thus we feasted last night. Husband is recovering from a nasty cold, so he wanted to stay in. Dr. P came over with Children of Men in tow, and we consumed a disparate meal of Swedish meatballs and pizza. I think Ikea makes their balls with veal, so I wasn’t crazy about them, but the sweet lingonberry sauce really works with it. The pizza was scrumptious. This morning, I finally ate one of the scones. I thought it would be stale after days of sitting around, but it the greasy enclosed environment make the pastry quite moist. Tasty indeed, which is good because one scone has 23 grams of fat, 490 calories, and 64 carbs, meaning it is not good for any of the healthy diets I am supposed to follow, which I have been awful about anyway this week, but that’s another story.
Children of Men, by the way, is devastatingly good.