So now I'm sitting here thinking of the time all those years ago I made some sort of meat in the slow cooker. Put a chunk of some cheap cut into the crock pot, pour in a bunch of BBQ sauce, let cook for 10 or so hours on low. When it was done, it fell apart when touched with a fork.
Even if I had that sitting here in front of me now, there's no way I could put meat into my mouth. (Eek ack blech yuck.) So it's odd to be thinking of it almost... fondly? Not exactly like I miss it, but... I have no idea how to describe it. Sort of like craving it, but how can you crave something you wouldn't willingly eat?
Tomorrow I have to eat better, for sure. I skipped the farmer's market on Sunday, but I have to go next time (and today's only Monday, bah).