Monday, March 17, 2008

Sometimes PB&J just won't cut it

My breakfasts are usually fairly simple: peanut butter on toast, cream cheese on a bagel, fried egg in a tortilla. And the one I had this morning while walking to my bus stop was no exception to this rule of simplicity. It tasted different, though, like Sunday brunch.

If you hate the idea of eggs with anything sweet on them, then read no further. I know that there are a class of people who do not like their food to mix - sauce and rice, broccoli and pasta, eggs and syrup. I am not one of those people, so this breakfast doesn't make my stomach turn. However, if you are, then this is not for you.

Toast an Eggo Nutri-Grain waffle, or your favorite kind of frozen waffle. Don't use homemade - they aren't sturdy enough (I'm not partial to Eggos on a regular basis, but they are particularly suited to rushed mornings). Now, put it in the toaster. Foam up some butter in a frying pan. Crack an egg into it. Break the yolk, if you want (I like to do this while I'm hard frying an egg so that the layers are more evenly dispersed). Sprinkle with salt and fresh pepper. When done to your liking, slide it onto the waffle (which came out of the toaster while the egg was frying, and now has syrup on it).

Et, voila! Sunday morning on Monday morning. Or Tuesday. If you don't go overboard with the syrup, you can eat it on the way to the bus. Or in your car.

Monday, March 10, 2008

Big afternoon.

We had an Italian cook-off yesterday afternoon. Unfortunately, the wine, pasta, and daylight savings time change have conspired to rob me of the will to live (or more specifically, type). Suffice to say, it was fantastic. We had all varieties of baked and boiled pasta, some delicious calzones, and a beautiful chocolate torte. Perhaps I will post the winners and some pictures here tomorrow, when I have my strength back.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Rejection song.

I got a rejection letter from UCSF yesterday. I'm feeling okay about it, in spurts, but it's really heart breaking to be told that you aren't wanted. The situation clearly called for a mourning dinner.

The new place down the street, Lolo, has gotten mixed reviews, but I've always been intrigued by the menu. So off we went. Nate and Josh and friend and I arrived around 8 and two tables were efficiently pushed together for us. We ordered a lot of food, so it's probably easiest to do this in list form.

Huitlacoche dumplings: umm, eww. Corn mold tastes like mold. And the "white corn foam" tasted like cold masa with a bunch of air bubbles.

Shrimp "tacos": these were fun. The tortilla was actually a big slice of jicama, and the whole thing was very refreshing.

Octopus tiradito: the standout. Sharp dressing, thin, pretty slices of octopus. We lapped it up.

Venison carpaccio: eh. The meat was tender and sweet, but it was too sweet. Not enough salt, which Josh continuously reminded us of by making motions like a salt shaker. He never asked for any salt, though. However, I think he identified the insidiously sweet spice, which may have been mace.

Three meat bites: warm and salty, which always gets points. But beyond that, not a winner. Little meat patties of beef, lamb, and bacon atop toast.

Salmon something or other: interesting. Breaded chunks of salmon that were raw in the middle. For a person that doesn't like cooked salmon, this was a happy medium, so I liked it for that.

An Argentinian Malbec: just made me happy that Josh has now been wrong twice about Argentinian wine. Ha.

I think that's all we had. Really, the "ehs" far exceeded the standouts, making me think we won't be repeating our visit. But a fun evening nonetheless.

Thanks for helping me laugh away the sting of rejection, guys.