dessert run

Last night, Danny and I went to Kroger at 10:00 and bought a chocolate turtle cheesecake.  We had planned to get one slice of their caramel-topped vanilla cheesecake — a portion ideal for two people in need of a cheesecake fix — but the bakery was closed, the lights off, and no one behind the counter to dole out a single serving.

When it comes to no cheesecake or whole cheesecake, the Smiths go whole cheesecake.

Our apartment has been bereft of all dessert foods for about a month, save a packet or two of hot cocoa mix and a few rogue marshmallows.  This was in part due to a collective decision to cut down on the processed sugars and other junk food we keep in our pantry.  But while I would love to chalk up our dessert situation to health consciousness, it was part laziness, too.  We haven’t been very good about regular trips to the grocery store.

I know you’re not supposed to completely deny yourself the fatty and sugary foods you love, even when you’re working on a healthier diet.  This, apparently, will only result in spur-of-the-moment overindulgence.  See above.  And Danny and I have been thinking about healthier desserts to keep on-hand, like all-fruit popsicles and single-serving pudding cups.  (They are a great source of calcium!)  I’ll have to pick up some options over the weekend.

Even if our desserting habits change, I hope the spirit of the 10pm cheesecake continues in our apartment.  Really, one of my favorite things about being married to Danny is that he’s the kind of guy who will change from pajamas into a tee-shirt and jeans late at night to go pick up a cheesecake.  My brother recently blogged about the importance of trying new things as a couple, and I commented that I had heard on the radio that such novelty releases a surge of dopamine in your brain — the same chemical sensation that happens when you first fall in love.  Apparently.  I’m an English major, not a neuroscientist.

Late-night-cheesecaking is, of course, a small-scale example of this, and recent job market discussions have proven that Danny is game for spur-of-the-moment decisions a little more life-changing than hot fudge and graham cracker crust.  I’m lucky to be partnered up with a guy who, when faced with “some small town in the middle of Ohio,” checks out the town’s chamber of commerce website rather than bemoaning the potential demise of his urban lifestyle.  Now if one of those small towns would only hire me.

Cheesecake time.  I’m out.

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9 thoughts on “dessert run

    • I did, but this late in the game I’m not very optimistic. But if I somehow end up there, we could be “real life” friends again as well as online friends!

    • I would come to Ohio freely with no cheesecake, but I haven’t had any luck with Ohio schools so far. We’ll see.

    • That’s a good idea. But I’d have to keep them relatively inaccessible, or I would eat them all in a few days. Perhaps the freezer…

  1. if there was ever a sentence that summed up why i love you and danny so much, it would have to be: “When it comes to no cheesecake or whole cheesecake, the Smiths go whole cheesecake.”

    also, thank you for including that nerdy science graphic. now this blog is something christophe could enjoy! yay for trying new things as a couple…

  2. Take it from me: There are far, far worse places to be than small-town Ohio. Small-town Ohio is never more than an hour from a big city. And dude, cow-tipping!

  3. Pingback: on becoming a two-blog household « running with carrots

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