grateful for ... leverage

Let me just start by saying I love, LOVE, cuban sandwiches. All those rich flavors smashed together in a sandwich that is grilled and served warm is just pure bliss. I think it is the pickles. I crave things with that vinegar taste. You know...pickles, potato salad (homemade like my mother makes it), fry sauce (the kind from A&W that has chunks of pickles in it), A-1 steak sauce...that kind of vinegary thing. In fact, vinegar is what I craved most during both of my pregnancies. We ate so much steak those months. Ah, sweet vinegar, how you brighten my life.

Which is why I really love cuban sandwiches, who wouldn't? One day, this craving just got to be too much and, being the careful consuming I am trying to make myself be, I decided to make one (or two or three) instead of going out to eat and buying just one. If I did this correctly, I could spread my bliss out over several days and maybe, just maybe, kick this cuban craving to the curb for a couple more months. I went to the store, purchased all the ingredients, and went home with thoughts of melted deliciousness for lunch. It was a good dream.

And then this happened...



And this....



And then I put the jar of pickles on the cupboard and walked away, for my own sanity. For three days, THREE DAYS, I would try again and again and again to open this stubborn jar of pickles. I looked like this.... But maybe with a few tears.



Then suddenly, the windows of heaven opened up, the sun streamed through the windows, choirs singing the Hallelujah chorus filled the air, the jar of pickles finally opened.



Ahhhh! success. Sweet, sweet success. I may have made three cuban sandwiches on the spot, one for each day that jar of pickles was keeping me from my goal.

Marlene 1, Pickle jar 0.