Sprizee :: A simple girl replete with complications

Broccoli Salad Algebra

Yesterday I made a salad that called for 4 slices of bacon. But I was juggling a bunch of other things at the time like keeping Hen from totally losing it just because I stepped into the kitchen for one millisecond to make sure the bacon wasn't burning. And then I burned the bacon.

So I cooked 4 more slices because I wasn't about to put burnt bacon in a salad I had just spent 20 minutes prepping. But then as I was waiting for the new slices of bacon to cook, I ate the burnt bacon, because, you know, it may have been burnt but it was still bacon.

When the new bacon was done I tossed that in the finished salad bowl and devoured the whole thing for dinner. Did I mention that it was 9 o'clock by then? And that is how I found myself at the end of a very long day having eaten 8 slices of bacon. Oops. 

Salad:
1 head broccoli cut up
4 slices cooked bacon, crumbled
1/2 cup red onion, chopped
1/2 cup raisins

Dressing:
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 1/2 tbsp cider vinegar (or whatever you have on hand)
1 tbsp honey
1/4 cup salted and roasted sunflower seeds

Mix up the dressing and toss in the rest of the ingredients. Don't burn the bacon or you'll end up eating twice as much. 

I can't go back and I don't want to.

Have I mentioned how much I love that Celeste is blogging again? Well, on Twitter sure. But here? This place is dusty with cobwebs and neglected ambitions. Her recent post One Hundred Word Wednesday: Hibiscus reminded me 1) that short is sweet and 2) of my own childhood. Have you read it yet? Go on. I'll wait.

Growing up in San Diego, I too was a destroyer of hibiscus flowers. Along with honeysuckle, geraniums, and lemon grass. To this day the scent of a geraniums takes me right back to 1272 Santa Barbara Street, in the side yard next to the house where my mom, aunts and uncle all grew up, playing in the dirt, singing songs to myself, taking the days of unending sunshine with a sweet breeze for granted.

I like the seasons too much to ever move back there. But it still makes me nostalgic and feels bittersweet.