Eventually all of our meals will go back to the regular “cereal/whatever we got from Costco/fruit pops” routine, but last night we went to TGI Friday’s for the regional bartender olympics to cheer on my brother. My parade of glutton continued.
First I had that afternoon beer I denied myself last week, and then finished my mom’s beer. My brother gave me one of his competition drinks, and I happily took that and wandered to the dining area to catch up with some of his high school pals. While we were chatting this elderly man gave us all pieces of the chocolate birthday cake his party had brought. Happy Birthday to someone! We decided to eat there. I had some of the spinach/avocado dip and then a giant salad with more corn chips in it. Now I’m dead.
My week off is hours away from being over. On our ride back from Philadelphia I made a list of the food I have eaten since last Saturday. My hope is that I will come back and read it when I am blue and remember how awesome my life is. Usually I was not eating alone, but was too busy leading my face to the bottom of any plate to notice what anyone else ate.
-Salad and tostones with a coke at Kuba Kuba.
-Mexican food buffet and cupcakes at our friends’ party.
-Chicken burrito, rice, and beans at Viva Mexico. Is that place actually very good or do I just get excited about coupons?
-Cheesy chicken vermicelli from the American Heart Association’s Low Calorie cookbook. Cooking the noodles in chicken broth was delicious, like pho.
-Mid-afternoon chocolate cake (and a bite from Richard’s carrot cake).
-Spaghetti with broccoli rabe and ricotta. Also I tried squid, which tasted like a fried egg, and mushrooms, which tasted like nothing. Since I can’t recall what I hate so much about mushrooms I’m prepared to keep trying them without pretending like I am dying. At Edo’s Squid.
-Giant Ukrop’s salad. It all goes towards Fuel Perks.
-Corn dog and leftovers, and frozen fun sized Three Musketeers bars. And, because I am honest about these things, the rest of the box of Buncha Crunch or whatever it’s called that Nichole gave me.
-Chicken club sandwich and fries. I know that there are some places I should be ashamed about liking, but the Chicken club at Star-lite is amazing and I love it so much I ate a chunk out of the table before realizing that there wasn’t any food left on my plate.
-Macaroni and cheese
-But let’s not pretend I have any restraint: Fried zucchini, edamame hummus, and chocolate cupcakes (Thanks AMV & BD!).
-Bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit and fruit from Ukrop’s
-Hot dog and a soda at Costo. What? They shouldn’t have a Costo at Potomac Mills if they don’t want you to buy hot dogs there.
-Butter chicken, garlic naan, samosa, samosa chat from Ekta in Philadelphia. Very good.
-While we got ready for a day of Ben Franklin and fun, I ate anything that Christophile either offered or left near me, including Trader Joe’s trail mix (with peanut butter chips), fresh pears, coffee, and half a scarf. Then I ate a Belgian waffle from Bonte.
-A lunch of Puerto Rican food, which was a first for me and luckily enough right next to our hosts’ home. I ate a fried pastry with seasoned beef, rice and beans, mofongo (mashed fried tostones) and also tostones. It was a weird dining experience because instead of just handing us one of the many menus sitting around, the waitress gave us highlights from the menu. I have no idea why, and it was very confusing and because of that we ordered everything she said. It was pretty good, though.
-Seriously. After a quick stop at the Reading Terminal Market (if we had something like this in Richmond, not only would I talk about going to it, I might actually go to it), Christophile blew us away with amazing pizzas (made from a recipe in the Barbara KingsolverAnimal, Vegetable, Miracle book) with tons of vegetables, fresh mozzarella, and pepperoni. I pretended to pay attention to the presidential debates, and to act like I wasn’t just reliving the pizza-eating experience over and over again in my mind I occasionally shouted “pork barrel.”
-Also, roasted corn on the cob. Also I ate more of that trail mix while I watched her make the pizza. I owe her a bag. Good thing TJ’s is open here now.
-In the morning, Christophile made the Nigella Lawson pancakes (too late to find the recipe and link — nigella pancake mix google search should do the trick) and brown sugar bacon. I think the bacon was from her CSA share. It was so good.
-AN ARBY’S BEEF AND CHEDDAR SANDWICH. Does life get better? It does, later at dinner.
-A bag of cheddar and sour cream Baked Lays.
-At Honey’s, which we’ve been to for brunch on earlier visits, we brought our own beer. How is that a thing, and then, how is that not a thing everywhere else? I ordered a salad to go with my honey fried chicken strips, cole slaw, and hush puppies. Great dinner, great night.
-Then Richard bought a $40 Three Musketeers bar for me at the hotel gift shop.
-Back to the Reading Terminal Market for a breakfast crepe with Nutella, banana, and strawberries.
-We had a late lunch at his folk’s house. I had pepperoni with cheese and crackers, a roast beef sandwich, salad, and a giant piece of pie with a few glasses of Coke, which is why I’m up late on a Sunday writing a list of all the food I ate.
This was also supplemented by apple bread (made by the Amish), granola bars, apples, and cereal.
I don’t regret a thing.
The thing about not being at work on a weekday is that 1) I am convinced that someone is breaking into the apartment, and 2) after 9 a.m. the “Today Show” is turned over to a bunch of jokers, including the impossibly awkward Kathie Lee Gifford.
This past week has been full of new music. I maybe buy eight CDs a year now, otherwise I just borrow what my associate brings home (he buys eight CDs a day). I like: the new Solange, Santogold, and New Kids on the Block’s greatest hits, which was gently placed next to my face this morning. I promise to never, ever make any of you listen to it. Unless you specifically ask for me to play it.
This is a card I received from CK this morning. We’ve started the last season of “the Wire,” and tensions are high. What will happen to Michael? Don’t actually tell me.
I am taking the week off next week, my first full week off since last summer. And, oh, what exciting plans we have planned. My only two goals for the week are to get rid of the giant bike I have in the living room and to drink a beer in the afternoon while we’re in Philadelphia.
Heads up, Richmonders. Trader Joes opens on Sept. 29.
Okay, so it turns out that it is hard work to plan a wedding, especially if you are as unfancy as I am. If I have learned anything from 57 years in college (and it’s safe to say that maybe I did) it’s that I don’t get anything done until the last minute. Plus it’s more fun to talk about what we would have happen but most likely will not (Unity Lasers). Both my father and Future Husband, independently of each other, have suggested a pizza party and a gun that shoots t-shirts for the reception. They will both be disappointed. Though a pizza party would be awesome.
Clementine season is approaching. Thus, Clementime. I will constantly smell like Christmas until the last little orange is gone.
Also, ask me to do my impression of someone meeting Joni Mitchell for the first time in 1968. It involves me pretending to hear 15 songs in a row and saying the word “ethereal” a lot. I’m reading the book Girls Like Us by Sheila Weller, and it is jam-packed with juicy gossip about the rock/folk scene in the ’60s (and beyond, but I’m not quite there yet). It’s fun. Warren Beatty was a perv and everyone on earth dated James Taylor. And I think I’ve taken Carly Simon for granted. I apologize.
Bacon is my new favorite item to have on hand, replacing panko (which is just bread crumbs, but makes everything sound like a party). I’m not a fan of the whole pig. I am picky about a lot of meat. Of the million edible items in the world, I will eat maybe 5,000 of them, which is enough to give me an enthusiastic BMI, but not enough to make me not seem picky. It’s not my fault that mushrooms and seafood come in everything.
As everyone knows, fried chicken is my passion. Is it possible to have a chicken that is fried in a bacon-bit mixture? In peanut oil? Will it be amazing? Or kill me? From happiness? I’m too scared to find out.