For those of you who are trying to make better decisions diet-wise and perhaps have stumbled upon a, oh, I dunno... Quinoa Chocolate Treat recipe online and decided to try that rather than bake the chocolate cake mix sitting in the pantry (because you're trying to get some extra nutrition with your chocolate addiction). Ahem... LET ME SERVE AS YOUR WARNING.
Right about now, you may be saying to yourself: "Self? That's an interesting concept. And judging from the picture, it looks relatively harmless. How bad can it possibly be?"
Enter Jaynee, stage right. My job in this little scenario is to jump on that grenade and explain that the recipe calls for the quinoa to be uncooked. UN. COOKED.
See... for a logical person (i.e.: someone who sleeps more than 4 hours a night), this should have been the first clue. But, since I have two babies under the age of 18 months, it's clear that the logical side of my brain hasn't been engaged in a while and... well, you do the math.
But, I digress. Let me tell you about THIS little treat. Let me take your imagination on a little trip around the mad, mad world of horrific desserts. Imagine taking bird seed, coating it with chocolate, marshmallow and for some unknown reason... peppermint extract. I think that the peppermint is included to take your mind off the fact that you're eating RAW quinoa.
Then imagine that you've sat down after putting down your baby (finally!) and instead of a nice glass of red wine to finish off a hectic day, you decide to nibble on your new little treat while patting yourself on the back for being a little more healthy in your compulsive eating habits.
Can you taste it? Can you feel the raw little pebbles of raw quinoa crunching on your molars? Can you feel the peppermint trying its best to cover up the quinoa but is instead somehow highlighting it?
Yea... whatever you're tasting in your imagination right now tastes like a creamy cheesecake compared to the nastiness I nibbled on tonight. I can't even call it birdseed... because A) I wouldn't feed the wild birds outside my window that crap and B) even if I did, they wouldn't touch it.
Not even the magpies.
And those things eat roadkill.
And I still need a chocolate fix.
The only way my night can be salvaged is if an unsuspecting Benny comes home from Poker Night and sneaks a piece of it before he comes to bed.
That way, I'm not the only one who wants to scrub my tongue with a toilet brush.