Wednesday, 7:40pm: There is no whipped topping in the fridge, and time is running short. I sling my Trader Joe’s canvas bag over my right shoulder, ram my credit card into my back pocket, and set out for the supermarket. As is customary, Key Food is booming the Greatest Hits of Doo Wop over the loudspeaker. The Coasters morph into The Jesters and eventually The Marcels, who guide me through the bread aisle. Another shopper wheels by, and we are both humming “Blue Moon” under our breath. I flip cereal boxes into my basket and realize: no matter how old I get, I will always associate grocery shopping with smooth sounds of Frankie Valli.
Wednesday, 11pm: I run the blender. It's not the first time it’s happened this late. As “ice crush” makes mush out of the strawberries, I silently pray my sleeping roommate doesn’t hack me to death with the shattered remains of her sanity.
Thursday, 8:32am: The dentist is awaiting me. I embark on the five-block subway journey, and a small, 70-something man in a parka nears me. He is sweet-looking and likely harmless, so I smile. In response, he levels his gaze directly at my breasts, and yells, “yeeeEAAH!!!”
Thursday, 9:30am: The dentist is done with my filling. I sit up to thank him and await instructions, and my left eye begins twitching. It does not stop. “Oh,” the dentist says, “that happens sometimes when we anesthetize the upper jaw.” I proceed to work, left cheek paralyzed, left eyelid blinking like a taillight with ADD. People actively avoid me.
Thursday, 12:15pm: I meet The Boyfriend at the park for lunch. My face is still numb and my lips, uncontrollable. Speaking is tough. Kissing is a nightmare. The spaghetti lunch is the apocalypse. To his credit, he only laughs a little.
Thursday, 10:46om: My friends F and H have invited me for Scrabble and Office-watching. Mommy H is changing their 10-month-old when the baby lets loose with a perfectly-arched, unending stream of pee. She is soaked. He is cackling maniacally, as it’s the most fun he’s ever had.
Thursday, 11:45pm: Home, I remove a teacup of Strawberry Mousse from the freezer. It is a pink ice cube. It thaws for 30 minutes, until it reaches an ice milk-like consistency. I taste it, wolf the rest, and place another teacup in the fridge to thaw overnight.
Friday, 8:59am: As a pre-breakfast snack, I try the creamy, fruity refrigerator-ed mousse. It vastly superior to the colder version, and I resolve to skip the freezer entirely next time. Stomping upstairs to re-brush my teeth, I also resolve to stop snacking before breakfast.
Friday, 9:10am: I add a photo and put the finishing touches on Friday's post, taking care to note the mousse’s serving size. As always, Cooking Light has overestimated, and their "makes 6 portions" is a real stretch. Four is more like it. I adjust the calculations and take off for work.
Friday, 11:15am: My office chills to 42 below zero. I briefly wonder if Building Facilities has mistaken me for a polar bear.
Friday, 12:32pm: I post.
Makes about 4 servings
Adapted from Cooking Light.
2 cups quartered strawberries
3 tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup low-fat sour cream
1 1/2 cups frozen reduced-calorie whipped topping, thawed
1) Add strawberries and sugar to a blender. Blend until smooth. Pour into a large bowl. Add sour cream and whisk together. Add whipped topping and fold into strawberry mixture with a spatula until incorporated. Separate mixture into 4 custard cups, tea cups, or ramekins.
2) For a mousse consistency, cover and refrigerate for a few hours. For a more ice creamy consistency, cover and freeze for at least 4 hours. Then let thaw for a few minutes.
Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price Per Serving
153 calories, 7 g fat, $0.67
2 cups quartered strawberries: $1.33
3 tablespoons sugar: $0.08
1/2 cup low-fat sour cream: $0.40
1 1/2 cups frozen reduced-calorie whipped topping, thawed: $0.85
PER SERVING (TOTAL/6): $0.67