Quiet evening at home, with rain.

When I got home, I realized I had a box of Ghiardelli brownie mix in the cupboard. So while I was heating up my noodles and cabbage for dinner, I made brownies. (I don't generally use mixes, but the Ghiardelli ones are pretty good, and it saves you the effort of having to melt the chocolate. And I can use the "light tasting" olive oil in them, and hopefully get a little lineoleic acid and omega-3s with my brownie).

And I'm going to say something now, that would be regarded as nutritionally heterodox in these days, if not outright heretical:

sometimes, when you've had a crummy day, a nice warm brownie fresh out of the oven, with a little ice cream on it, DOES make you feel better.

I realize that those who are more - shall we say, shrill? - about food and its place in one's life are now declaring that I am "self-medicating." And that I'm just a hair's breadth away from diving into a trough of French fries or raw cookie dough or somesuch.

And while I recognize that there are some people who do have a genuine problem, and who have a hard time controlling portions, I think it's painting things with too broad of a brush to say that no one is permitted, ever, to welcome some kind of foodstuff as a source of emotional comfort (unless you are one of those aberrations who finds comfort in steamed broccoli, in which case it's probably ok). And frankly it reminds me of the old story, recounted by M.F.K. Fisher, of the Puritan father who dumped a cup of water into his son's soup (to dilute it down and make it taste less good) when the child declared, "Is it not a fine soup, father?"

I just get a little tired of the neo-Puritanism as regards food. (As much as I sometimes wish I were one of those skinny girls who picked at her meals and was a perpetual size 4, I also have to admit that being able to enjoy and appreciate good food - from all the "approved" groups and even a few that currently seem to be "not approved" - is in itself a source of joy. [that said, I wish I could get more cozy with the idea of accepting being a "fat chick" and be done with it. Instead of waking up some mornings and going, oh man, I ate WHAT yesterday? Or doing insane "accounting" of minutes exercised vs. amount of chocolate consumed.]).

The truth is for me, after my good dinner, and my brownie and ice cream, I was happy to put a piece of plastic wrap over the pan with the rest of the brownies. And I might have one tomorrow, maybe. Or I might wind up putting the whole thing into the fridge so they keep longer. Or maybe even (and this is another dietary "sin" I commit from time to time), I may decide not even to finish the whole batch, and wind up throwing out a few dried remnants in a week or so.