It can't just be the gelato containers, something else has to have inspired me to start bringing lunch all the time. Oh wait, it's my incredible new chicken salad with feta, artichokes, capers and scallions. That's what it is. That's also the whole recipe, just toss a bunch of that stuff together with some good mayo and lemon juice, salt and pepper and do whatever you want with it. I've been doing pasta salad.
Then I left my gelato container full of awesome pasta salad on the kitchen counter and it'll be all gross by the time I get home at like, whenever tonight. It's Tequila Wednesday (Because Alliteration Won't Get You Drunk Faster). And the thought of that beautiful lunch sitting there for 14 hours feeling like I totally abandoned it after all that tossing and seasoning is depressing.
To stay positive, here are all the good memories I've had involving lunch with friends. Maybe the vibes will reach my pasta salad and comfort it while it slowly perishes. Ugh, I'm going to cry.
- My friend helped solve my chronic problem of no cheese emojis.
- My friend and I were once trapped at Newark by mean police jerks, armed with nothing but jalapeño vodka. Us, not them. We had the vodka. Also once we verbally assaulted him for a quesadilla foul.
- Once before a dance party, my friend robbed me of the one meatball that would have completed the next day's meatball sandwich, but then I invented another meatball sandwich that crushes the very notion of the sandwich.
- Once after a birthday party I made a variation on that sandwich after rescuing the birthday girl via fire escape.
- My friend has a cast-iron palate and has no established limit to the amount of Scofield units he can tolerate. I took him to the Hot Sauce Expo where we basically watched someone die (but then she was okay).
- My friend I've been eating curry with for 26 years lives near a crappy supermarket with a rare and precious commodity. Smoked rice.
- And last but not least, that time my best friend made Jess Kapadia thighs that were chicken and not me. Oh and the time I met her boyfriend and he shared his taco with me.
And bolstered by the love and warmth of friendship, I can let go of my guilt that I let that pasta salad down.
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