appetite

It's been so hot the past few days I have eaten very little.

Over the course of two days, I prepared a "take-out" meal for my friend M, who has been including me in lots of family festivities since hobbitt's been gone. She's been entertaining many people, while on a work break, for more than a week, including me. She went back to work yesterday, and I thought I might treat her to a night off.

I made a chilled asparagus and orange soup; a Moroccan melon, citrus and carrot salad with a balsamic Dijon vinaigrette dressing; roasted sweet onions and peppers; and roasted chicken breasts with a mango chili and white wine reduction sauce. She came by this evening after work for a brief visit and to pick up the vittles.

There are leftovers of everything but the soup. And I don't feel like eating any of it. I know I should, but somehow I can't bring myself to do it. Maybe I'm just too tired. Maybe I haven't recovered from the heat. Maybe I've been too involved with this food to find it appealing right now.

This evening, I had a small cheese plate, with a wonderful Gouda cheese with sweet peppers, garlic and ginger. Omigosh it's good. And it was enough, I think.

For the most part, it seems that I'm far more intrigued with food when it doesn't actually involve me eating it. That should tell me something, but I'm afraid I'm not getting the message.