My new specialty-- a one-handed lunch

Thank god for Trader Joe's. Where I once ridiculed them for over-packaging I now praise them. Everything, from butternut squash to onions, is chopped, diced and packaged to a degree of "I am helpless and one-armed". It's as if their marketing was designed solely for the aging and injured.

Thankfully, I am extremely familiar with many grocery stores, their products, their aisles, and even their parking lots. Not to mention the people who work there. I know many of their names and even some of their birthdays. Yeah, it's kind of ridiculous, but comes in very "handy" at a time like this.

I knew exactly what to shop at Trader Joe's and stocked my fridge and cupboards with foodstuffs for my lame sojourn. And today I made lunch. And I must say, it was pretty good.

This is what I did.

Roasted Pink Ladies and Butternut Squash with Arugula, Parmesan and Walnuts

I laid my last sheet of foil on a roasting pan, hacked a pink lady apple with a giant cleaver (cleavers seem to be the way to go one-handed), tossed it in the pan with pre-cut butternut squash and olive oil, salt and pepper, and roasted it at 425' for 20 minutes, adding whole walnut pieces 10 minutes in.

Shook up a couple of table spoons of cider vinegar, a small squeeze of Dijon, a teaspoon of honey, a tablespoon of olive oil, and some salt-and-pepper, in a small jelly jar.

Grabbed a handful of arugula, and some already shredded Parmiggiano Reggiano cheese, and dressed the warm roasted squash, apples and walnuts with the vinaigrette and tossed it all together.

I can't wait to make this with both hands!

Chef Down!

De Quervains Tenosynovitis could very well be a dish on a pop-up restaurant menu anywhere, these days. Instead, it's a diagnosis for my lame right-hand. When the doctor said, in her self-assured manner, "you have…" all I heard was "you are lame and you can't cook". I was devastated. For some lame reason chefs are coached, from day one, to soldier through the aches and pains of cooking. Well, this time I soldiered myself right to occupational therapy.

So, in between bags of ice, naproxen, PT and every holistic possibility I can get my hands on, I still have to eat. Unfortunately, I don't live at Downton Abbey with a Mr. Bates to serve me dinner and a Mrs. Patmore to cook it... please, don't get me started. I'm my own chef. And if anything a good chef is resourceful. Now let's see what my left-hand can make for lunch.