Breakfast in Bed Bars

It’s him again. The smile, the face, those perfectly formed abs.

But now there is something else.

It’s a personality. It’s a feeling. There are cute quirks. Habits. Rituals. Comforts.  I am starting to notice more than his outrageous good looks. I am growing fond.

Moments that were just moments are now becoming memories, daydreams. It’s dangerous. Thinking about him makes my skin tingle. Something somewhere on my body is throbbing. Why am I biting my lip?

I wouldn’t call it a routine – maybe a reoccurring event – but I do spy a dopp kit on my sink and an overnight bag in my hall. He comes over, we get white girl wasted, we… well… we um…yes, that, we fall asleep and wake up starving.

I never have food in the house. I’m a come-and-go kinda girl. Here one second, gone the next. Never before needing a reason for rooting. I eat neatly packaged protein-ish bars because I always seem to have them in my purse, in my car, in my bedside table next to the prophylactics, everywhere.

After a night of brain scrambling intimacy, these little treats always do the trick. I grab a few from wherever they are hiding, toss them into bed, and get going on the coffee. He cracks one open, leans back, sheets just covering him, and cheerily chews a cashew-crammed rectangle. I opt for blueberry flavor, knowing it’s sweetness will tickle my cheeks, satiate my hunger, and (I hope) mask my morning breath.

It’s not fancy. It’s not entirely romantic or unromantic. It’s a couple of kids eating sticky, cellophane wrapped, edible geometry in a tangle of sheets, trying to recover from a night of ultimate weirdness. It’s comfortable and (for now) that’s all it needs to be. It’s like the bar. Just right. Just enough. Perfect.

But what is it for you? I’m not saying you can’t get down with a sexy reddish-head too. Please! I recommend it. But maybe you’re just running late for work and need quick breakfast. Maybe you’re hiking Appalachia and require a portable snack. Maybe you’re doing what I’m doing right now – laying on my couch, grazing, mentally replaying the ESPN highlights of our last….interaction. Whatever you’re doing, whoever you are – these bars are delicious and pretty good for you! Nuts, dates, a touch of sweet – so delicious.

I hope you like him (ahem!) THEM…I mean the bars… as much as I do.

Here’s my recipe:

This recipe has so few ingredients and steps I didn’t even know what to take a picture of. That said, you’ll need: a food processor, some cashews, some dates, some vanilla, a pinch of salt, a bit of water, and a can-do attitude.

Put all the things (nuts, dates, salt, vanilla) in the food processor, and pulse until the mixture is small bits. With the motor running, add one tablespoon of water at a time until a sticky, nutty, ball forms.

Shape them however the frick you want. I make a square-ish thing, flatten with a book between two pieces of parchment, and set in the fridge to cool before slicing into bars. But you can roll the mixture in to bite-sized balls, you can make miniature-but-accurate models of Millard Filmore, really whatever suits you.

Like I said – after they’ve chilled, cut them into bars or whatever…

Holy hell that’s a lot of abs! Is it suddenly warm in here?