Paul's classes get even more insane.

So I've finally started on the baby blanket that I've been planning to make since I found out I was pregnant. I was going to wait until we found out for sure what we're having but I had a whole bag of some really pretty grey blue yarn that changes tone here and there. If you look at it and think "girl" it looks somewhat purple but if you look at it and think "boy" it's back to just being grey blue. Regina has been having happy flashbacks to her baby puppy times at the yarn shop- smelling all of the hand dyed yarn (a lot of it smells like vinegar), licking it, rolling around with it, trying to make it her brand new friend. What I love the most about not having a destructive dog is that things that would really upset me are just plain cute.
On Thursday, it was Paul's day for snack in one of his classes. Gag me, I know. After the ridiculously long list of rules, the only things we could bring to feed 25 people that weren't hideously expensive were vegetables (they were supposed to be organic but I refused- sue me), apples, and home made hummus. Now, I've never made hummus and when Paul told me that we were going to make it I told him that was a terrible idea because of all of the horror stories I've heard about making it or eating bad home made hummus. He told me that it would be much much cheaper to make it ourselves. I didn't want to do it, but I also didn't want to spend bookoo bucks on people that I not only don't know but probably wouldn't like to begin with (God-hating Marxist jerks). On Wednesday night we went to Kroger and picked up all the supplies- it turns out that one jar of Tahini paste is just as expensive as buying two "party size" tubs of hummus from the deli but Paul was adament- two "party size" tubs just wouldn't be enough to make everyone happy and we could probably get three or four batches of hummus out of just the one jar of Tahini. So 30 dollars of Tahini paste, crunchy veggies, fruit, and a lot of stress later, we arrived home and I put the chickpeas in to soak overnight.
I set aside an hour and a half in the morning to make the hummus and cut the vegetables before I needed to go into work. I made the hummus just like Ina Garten told me to and it was icky. Coarse and tasteless and my heart fell. I put some on a carrot and gave it to Paul and sure enough he hated it. I wanted to cry but I just could not waste that much money so I went back in the kitchen and doubled the garlic, put in some roasted red peppers that were for some reason taking up valuable can space in my cupboard, more Tabasco, and a whole lot more cayenne and red pepper than I should have been able to. I took it out to Paul and he still didn't look impressed. He then confessed to me, "Remember that conversation we had when you said you didn't want to make it because you knew it might turn out badly? Well I believed you but I want them to suffer." Honestly, that really hurt. He wanted me to fail but that would be so much money wasted! He said it tasted a little better and I definitely agreed. The problem was that the spices that should have been too hot and overpowering were just barely noticeable. I returned and dumped more in. That made it pretty tolerable and I took it out to Paul and he felt bad that he'd upset me. He then told me that it tasted like real hummus and that he'd been thinking and all the other times he's had hummus (not out of our usual plastic tubs) at Greek places etc, it was a lot like the stuff I'd just given him. I thanked him for being nice, put it in a nice tall tub and carted it off with the veggies to stuff in my work fridge. All day long I stressed about whether he'd get in trouble for bringing in a snack that wasn't very good. It was my fault and I didn't want people being mean to him. When I left work and picked him up at 7 the first thing he said was, "I'm sorry about your hummus," my heart fell but he continued, "my professor asked if she could take some home and just took the rest with her." What? I asked him how much was left and he said that the container was a little over half full (I made about 5 cups at least). "Is she crazy?" "No," he said, "she said it tasted just like some stuff from a little village she stayed in in Greece last summer and everyone else loved it and asked me for the recipe." Now, that made me feel a little bit better but not because I think I'm awesome at making hummus, I feel better because people think Paul's pretty neat for making his own hummus and having it turn out to their liking (he's just not telling anyone he's married). At the same time however, it made me really really sad. The class had their input about some of the rules for snack and this is what they chose and this is what they honestly really like. Paul said his professor acted the same way about the hummus that I do about that lemon cream cake they have at Olive Garden and that's just SAD. Now I do like the store bought fake hummus, I think it's delicious but would I ever prefer that to things with a lot of taste? No! I'm sad for these people that they don't belive in families, they don't believe in God, they don't believe in anything outside of themselves, and now even their favorite foods are seriously lacking in savor. I'm pretty sure that most people would consider my life boring (I love it this way) but it's in technicolor compared to the dull and empty lives people have to lead to act like my pathetic attempt at hummus was manna from heaven.