Treating myself with heritage.

I think this might be one of the first blog posts where I upload and post the pictures immediately after I've taken them.  Apparently, if there's one thing in life I'm excited about, it's Kraft macaroni and cheese.

When my mom and sister visited from the US over Christmas, I made a list for the former of things I'd really like her to bring.  A candle, some stuff from Sephora, Trader Joe's almond butter, and the ever coveted box of The Cheesiest.  My mom outdid herself and brought me THREE boxes.  I thought I'd cook the second with you guys.

I spent most of this Sunday morning reading Carmen and Submarine and then got a bug in me to clean the kitchen.  Our flat gets dirty annoyingly quickly it seems, and none of us really have the desire, energy, or patience to tackle the kitchen, bathroom, or living room most of the time.  So when I felt this very foreign motivation, I wasn't going to let it slip by.  I also was probably using it as an excuse not to go running.  Which I will do tomorrow, self.  Tomorrow I am going running.  I am.  I will.

Ah the lone, rogue noodle.

And now that bowl is gone, aaaand I'm tempted to grab the pot I cooked it in as my pseudo-popcorn for An American in Paris.

1 comment

  1. I go batshit for Kraft m&c, it's quite sad actually. It just reminds me of childhood.


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