On Wednesday morning, I filled a slow cooker with two pounds of organic, grass-fed beef chunks (Fairway), potatoes, carrots, onions, scallions, red wine and chicken stock, flavored it with cinnamon and allspice, salt and black pepper and let it cook for more than six hours until the meat was falling apart. I drank some of the Argentinean malbec I used in the stew and soaked up the gravy with toasted Italian bread.
Thursday night, my wife baked Murray's free-roaming, drug-free chicken quarters (Fairway) with a sweet and spicy sauce, and steamed white rice, and I had New Zealand venison burgers (Whole Foods), rare, stuffed into pita halves with spring mix and a slice of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. My wife also prepared side dishes of okra with tomatoes and sauteed cabbage.
Tonight, Friday, I had leftovers -- two pieces of chicken and the last venison burger, plus a salad with cucumber and herbicide-free tomatoes. My fresh bread was purchased at an Italian deli in Totowa. When I asked where the bread was baked, the man said it was from near "the New York tunnel."
Maybe you've been laid off. Or you put in for a promotion and they gave it to a guy half your age who is about as qualified as a trained chimp. My advice is to call an employment lawyer and always try to eat well, because eating well is the best revenge.