Amen for the amendment. I walked downstairs with my grand Batch Cooking plan to see a bouquet of basil. I’d created the bouquet days ago after researching how to keep my store-bought basil from wilting (fill a jar with fresh water, and cut the basil stems and keep loosely covered with a plastic bag), and I’d plum forgotten about it. And also the plums, the nectarines now ripe, and the globe eggplants. My menu calls for none of these things. I want all of these things.

I make the best blueberry nectarine buckle. I want to add it to the list, but know, like the eggplant, I’m the only one who’ll eat it. And then I’ll be disgusted about my having an entire dessert. Or I can make gift bags and drop them at the doors’ of friends. You know, if I still talked to my friends. Because I’ve become such a happy home hermit, that I’ve stopped talking on the phone or making any plans. Instead, I make batch-cooking plans for meals no one wants to eat.

Fear is a big factor today. I fear this is my one chance to prove that batch cooking can work for this family, and I don’t want to blow it with the wrong recipe. Which keeps me from doing anything, stuck in decision. Maybe I should puree the eggplant and add it to tomato sauce, then cook gnocchi in the sauce and top with cheese and fresh basil.

And I’m making the damn poke bowl! Amended menu:

• Black Pepper Poke Salmon Bowls (no one wanted rice). Or the vegetables. So I basically ate (and loved) a bowl of red cabbage with carrot swirls, toasted sesame seeds and nori, with fresh mint and cilantro over raw cubes of fresh salmon. No one ate it but me. Lucas ate ham wrapped around a cheese stick. This plan is really working out.
• Harissa Chicken with Leeks, Potatoes, and Yogurt (winner!)
• Roasted Eggplant Tomato Bake with Bird Balls (and gnocchi for the kids) Nope. Eggplant went bad.
• Asian Lettuce Wraps and Homemade Dumplings
• Green Eggs, Screw Ham
• Enchilada Stuffed Shells (will make this next week)

I’m also going to cool it on the food posts because as sick of this dinner gig as I am, it can’t be fun to read either. At least I’m posting, though. Progress, not perfection.