Meander through the average supermarket and you’ll see the tracks left by trends of the past. Nobody gets excited about pesto anymore, but it’s been fully assimilated: the jars and plastic tubs are easy to find, along with a big box of fresh bulk basil. And that’s a good thing; it means it’s ripe for someone who doesn’t remember the 80s to rediscover.

I’m not sure if green tea’s moment has passed or if the antioxidant-fueled push is still underway, but I’d like to put a word in for genmaicha. It’s a popular Japanese green tea with roasted brown rice in it. If you brew loose-leaf genmaicha, you can see the rice, but it’s also available in bags. The brand I bought last time at Uwajimaya is Yamamotoyama. This is very fun to say, and it’s inexpensive. The rice gives the tea a freshly-baked Rice Krispy treat aroma. I’ve been drinking it in the morning for the last two weeks and I’m hooked.

Look for genmaicha at a tea shop, an Asian grocery, or maybe even your supermarket, depending on how antioxidant-fueled your neighbors are.

Iris has been eating like a horse, or at least a shetland pony. On Monday, for example, she had a whole waffle, a sausage link, and a cup of OJ for breakfast. Then we went to the Children’s Museum, and on the bus she had a handful of Veggie Booty and a cup of milk. After the museum, we went to Orange Julius, where she ate most of a jumbo hot dog, some of my corn dog, and we split a Julius. It is just me, or was the Orange Julius much better back in the day (i.e., 1983)? The ones at the Center House are watery and icy.

Then we rode the monorail, which miraculously delivered us all the way to Westlake Center, where stopped for a chocolate chip cookie. For afternoon snack she ate two slices of ham, a piece of buttered whole-grain toast, and possibly another cup of milk (I can’t remember; it could have been water). For dinner, I made salmon cakes, and Iris ate one large cake. She did not eat any of the fennel and red onion on the side.

She’s also been grumpier than usual. I get the feeling that in a couple of days she’s going to come bursting out of her room in the morning, five feet tall. I also get the feeling that I should be investing in pork belly futures.

I had to return the chipotle-marinated chicken skewers to Trader Joe’s. Don’t they sound good? Well, they weren’t: dry, white-meat chicken without much flavor. I should have known. I enjoy chicken breast in the form of chicken marsala or francese, but on a stick? Not its natural habitat.

So I brought the box up to the customer service counter and went shopping. I grabbed a couple of those Chocovic bars, a box of macaroni, some penne rigate, and a chub of polenta. Don’t you love the word “chub”? I had forgotten the exact price of the skewers. Here’s how it turned out:

Stuff I bought: $7.55. Skewers: $7.69. They owed me: 14 cents.

I think this is my superpower.

I think this is as good an insight into the mind of a three-year-old as anything.

When we were at QFC the other day, Iris zoomed in on a product called Wacky Mac, which is nothing more than rotini in four colors (white, orange, green, reddish-purple; I assume probably the purple is from beets and the orange from carrots). I made it for lunch by taking the bold step of opening a box of Trader Joe’s macaroni and cheese, pulling out the cheese packet, and substituting Wacky Mac for the elbow macaroni.

I liked the Wacky Mac. So did Iris. Mostly. This photo should explain everything.