Wednesday, i like you. I really, really like you.

From the most humble beginnings can come the most thorough satisfaction. When we're talking about vanilla yogurt and Kashi 7 whole grain nuggets, that thorough satisfaction is similar to the satisfaction one gets from crawling through a rugby scrum.
With this rocky start (as in I ate a bowl of gravel and cream) I laid a foundation for some deep satiation.

Lunch was leftovers plus. I'd made a chicken stir-fry the night before with this chili paste I'd bought in Chinatown sometime in the spring. I marinated deboned, chopped chicken thighs in this paste along with sesame oil and lime juice. After sauteing the chicken lightly, I reserved it and sauteed onion and carrot slices on a very low heat until they started to soften, progressively adding red peppers, white wine, snow peas and then reintroducing the chicken. You know a dish's flavors are in the right proportion when even the soft lilt and squeaky edge of sponginess from snow peas and chicken subjected to microwaving still manage to drive your fork back to the bowl almost as soon as it unloads. I supplemented the leftovers with a quinoa salad with dried blueberries and toasted almonds and a Thai noodle salad with cashew and asparagus from the Whole Foods ready foods bar. If you're eating in at Whole Foods and you just take moderate portions in the re-usable bowls, the prices are very reasonable. I think both my side portions of about half a cup each were only $2.50 or so. Both were very good and provided just enough compliment to the leftovers that it didn't feel like a rehash at all.

Admittedly, though, most of the satisfaction from lunch probably came from all that chicken fat in the thighs. Nothing cuts through a windy November afternoon like warm chicken fat drizzling through your intestines.

I would say dinner was equally simple, but I guess most people don't consider quinoa simple. They also maybe wouldn't find a toasted turkey, apple and brie sandwich to be simple either, so yeah, equally as simple, just as satisfying. The only details missing from the above description are the mustard and the whole wheat bread we spread it on, "we" being this girl I really, really like. One caveat from a mistake we made: although you don't need to use butter to toast a sandwich if you have nice enough pans, you do have to use a very low heat. It takes a while for the brie to start to melt and the turkey and mustard to get their mojo on, and you don't want to scorch the bread before they're ready to go. I scorched the bread a little bit. All the same, the combination of brie and turkey next to the bread on either side, warming, starting to open their flavors, and the apples still crisp in the middle playing with the bite of the mustard all came together to build a sandwich I feel ought to be considered a classic if it isn't already on your short list by now. Even the over-toasted bread provided it's own layer to the harmonious melange.

A handful of the right ingredients in the right places, even though somewhere while making it you make a mistake or two, when the mix is right, simple satisfies.