Greek Dip with a Dollop of Grief

There is not much more demoralizing than applying to jobs that cap out at half your current salary (and that isn't too high), and still not getting a call.  I know, I know - "Welcome to the recession, Kathryn!" I say in a droll voice.  It's a race to the bottom in terms of benefits and income, and still jarring to see 30K admin jobs in Philadelphia that require an advanced degree and 5-8 years experience.  It's things like this that make me just sit and stare at my computer screen, exhale, and cry.  And I'm technically not even unemployed.  How's that for such a pathetic sense of self-pity?  My last day is this week but we're still waiting for the axe.  We just want to know.  We want finality to it all.  We want to leave the building with purpose.

I had my IVF transfer yesterday and was told to rest.  When I feel tears coming on I take deep breaths, curse my soon-to-be-former CEO and eat jelly beans.  I'm like a badass seven-year-old.  On a good note, the transfer went fine as did this cycle.  And fine is just what I need right now.

We froze 10 fertilized eggs, and implanted two eight-celled critters in my uterus yesterday.  Saucy and sizzlin', I know!  It was the most fruitful sex I've ever had.  Sorry - I lack a sense of boundaries when it comes to my nether regions.  But in all seriousness: this may be the closest to being pregnant Matt and I may ever get. And that's a startling thought.

After a morning of whimpering over admin jobs I'm not qualified for, I'm determined to relax.  And by relax I mean eat a big bowl of chana masala, light my lavender candle, and watch some Whose Wedding Is It, Anyway?.  I also think I'll share a delightful little ditty of a recipe I made a few weeks back for our neighborhood get together.  I know, I know - I never even mentioned it!  It came and went and it was a lackluster week: I was sick, found out I'm losing my job and we just started our fertility meds for this cycle.  I had grand visions of kicking culinary ass at this thing and showing these neighbors what us Hopkins can whip up, but life got in the way and I made due with a big veggie tray and dip, some bought tomato pies, and this number: a layered Greek dip (stole shamelessly from Closet Cooking).  There was still too much food - everyone brings a dish so I don't know what the heck I was worried about anyway.  I always make too much food; it's just my way.  Anyway, who doesn't like leftovers?

So here is a super simple Greek dip comprised of hummus, tzatziki, and diced cucumbers, tomatoes, feta and kalamata olives.  I want everyone to notice my artful arrangement, because, really, it's all I got at this point.  Since I piled high all the fixins', you can't really see the hummus, but it's there and makes the basis of the dip.  In the middle is a good cup of tzatziki, and then I sprinkled the rest like a feign.  It made a great presentation, and an excellent alternative to a staid ol' layered taco dip - you know what I'm sayin'?

Layered Greek Dip

courtesy of Closet Cooking

(Note: I did my own "non-recipe" recipes for the hummus and tzatziki but you can find links to both here.)

• 1 1/2 cups hummus
• 1 cup tzatziki
• 1 cup tomato (diced and mixed with 1 tablesoon lemon juice and 1/2 teaspoon oregano)
• 1/2 cup cucumber (cut into small pieces)
• 1/4 cup red onions (diced)
• 1/4 cup feta (crumbled)
• 1/4 cup kalamata olives (pitted and coarsely chopped)
• 1 handful mint (chopped)
• 4 whole wheat pitas (cut into triangles and toasted until just crispy)

Directions:
1. Assemble dip starting with the hummus and stacking each ingredient on top of the last.