Where I grew up, in the old days, this month was often referred to as "the long, hungry month of March". People would have to delve into the far reaches of their cellars to get the last of their winter stores. And not just people would be finding their food scarce, all the creatures, those roaming the land or those hiberanting would be growing continually thinner at this point of the season too.
In our time, long winter days bring a different kind of problem. We on the contrary have been feeling fuller with each passing month. Hubby is convinced his middle is puffier; I admit to feeling a little sluggish which may or may not have something to do with my ample hips and thighs. As a result,we decided to cut back on our more decadent desserts and try to limit our portion sizes. Baking is one of my favourite past times so that will be hard for me; eating whatever I bake is one of hubby's favourite past times so he thinks it's a tossup as to which of us will suffer more. But our pact may not last.
Last night I presented hubby with his after dinner treat, ten grapes and a piece of cheese. He eyed this dubiously; that cheese is our good stuff, I tell him, aged fourteen years. Still long faced, I remind him he still has some chocolates left from the very large box he got for Christmas. Instant happy face.
...pita with almond butter and banana and blood oranges.