I'm in Northern Manhattan, and we're just starting to get a little wind. I'm thinking: unspecified soup in beef broth (I have a freezer somewhat overwhelmed with a whole lot of frozen beef broth); tacos with the fridge full of leftovers that I somehow rounded out this week with; and some chocolate-y oatmeal cookies I spied a recipe for recently. In honesty, I really want cake; but I don't have any basis to expect this storm to otherwise disrupt next week's work schedule, and I need the cookies for my lunches next week. So I guess I should take advantage of the chilly, and make the cookies.
I'm not supposed to be eating bread right now, but I admit that, also, there is a rye-roll that I really want to make this weekend. Specifically, I want to make it to go with ham sandwiches next week, since Murray's cheese was handing out these samples of somebody's "rosemary-ham", and the rosemary was astonishingly tasteful, not overpowering at all, and although I don't much eat sandwiches. . . well . . . .
Anyway. I have [kinda] fond memories of my decade in hurricane country, where the power-outages were for real, and the prep was life-force analytical, and strategic. In NYC, it's just not that likely that a blizzard is going to take down the power. Man, does that make a difference in my imagination.
Good luck to y'all, down the mid-Atlantic. We're only getting a foot, and -- at least in the city -- our power lines are underground. Hang in there.
