I sat down to blog yesterday but got distracted (this may be an emerging trend... or an emerged one) first by online apartment hunting, and then by a text from one of my besties who happened to be free for a phone call at the same time as me! For the first time in months. I decided to get up from my screen to make lunch while I talked to him. On the menu: grilled cheese on honey wheat bread, with beautifully sliced beautiful tomatoes I picked out at the farmers' market last weekend. And reheated red pepper soup from the Lenten soup supper at church on Wednesday. Somehow it turned into pretty much the most delicious lunch I have eaten in what seemed like eons, and Mike was totally jealous. Even though we broke off our conversation so he could go out for Sushi Sunday.
And also because another friend called with a post-breakup tear-stained voice, so I called her back for a round of healing affirmation and a sweepingly great conversation that ended in her recommending that I invest in a Magic Bullet for breakfast smoothie purposes, and promising to send along recipes for great, energizing, unexpected smoothies.
Smoothies are a long-time love of mine, the kind of thing I can always get into, the kind of thing I crave, and apparently I have a "smoothie face" which sets J immediately to the task of whipping up The Perfect Smoothie as soon as I walk into Bishop's after work. Chili, another of Bishop's specialties (see #5), has always been a good pick for Sunday lunch... But lately I have been really into Sunday afternoon grilled cheese sandwiches. And let me tell you, I make a wicked grilled cheese sandwich.
Some other good grilled cheese sandwiches can be found at Bittersweet on Division Street in Northfield, in the good ol' 55057 zip code--they put cream cheese on theirs, and we all know that there are very few times when I will turn down cream cheese, in almost any form. And there is also a beer and grilled cheese special somewhere in Wilmington--World Café Live at The Queen, as a matter of fact--which I haven't checked out yet, only because I've always been reminded of it at the wrong moment. But look for a review in the relatively near future.
A slight recipe mutation turns the classic grilled cheese into another big-time favorite: the beloved Tunamelt, which will never fail to send me reeling back to the Summer of Sunny V. (Incidentally, I'm thinking I'm going to have to commission a cover of Bryan Adams' all-American classic Summer of '69. Maybe Summer of Tunamelts would be a more representative title.) I haven't flown solo on the tunamelt front, maybe ever, but at least in quite some time, and let me tell you, I missed my Bizz, who always seemed to keep the pans straight, and keep the tuna sauce from burning to the bottom of the pan, and managed to make everything come together right at the right moment.
That being said, my Single-Bizz Tunamelt was a pretty killer sandwich specimen. Also, extra sharp cheddar cheese is the best cheese ever, and you can get huge blocks of it for super cheap at BJ's: the place to go for cheese, gas, and frozen pizza.
Also giant bulk packs of gum, and quick home microbrewing kits. Which sounds really gross.
Food is an important thing to think about all the time, but lately the social aspects of eating have sent my diet into very weird relief. Every Thursday, for example, Kristy and I go to either Spinning or Zumba at the Y and then hit up Applebee's for the appetizer sampler platter and drinks. That's more about the eating experience than the actual food, even though we love mozz sticks and quesadillas and tequila and spin dip and even boneless wings. (Not wings with bones, though.) I've also written about nachos and wings every other week or so, and just in general the easiest thing to do as a group of young adults is to go out somewhere to eat, drink, and be merry. This is not only easy, but gets expensive, and it also puts a little weight in the pit of my belly.
On Wednesdays in Lent my mom counts on soup suppers for our family to eat; but since I don't go to church on Wednesday nights I never have dinner plans. On the other hand, Wednesday tends to be date night, so I usually get something with J when he gets out of work. A few weeks ago we made some squash and pepper in a red wine reduction with caramelized onions, or something fancy like that. (I would have said I threw a bunch of delicious veggies into a frying pan with some oil and wine and ate it with chopsticks over rice, but J is passionate about food so he knows all the lingo. Don't quote me on it though.) Last week I dropped Maria off at band practice and then met up with him on Main Street Newark.
The air was so warm and pleasantly heavy, and all the outdoor seating was up and bustling. "My goal for tonight is to get some really good food and to really enjoy eating it," I said. And that we did.
We sat on the patio at Rooney's, and ordered a warm goat cheese salad and New Orleans pasta with blackened chicken, which was very spicy. The salad was one of the most delicious salads I've ever tasted, though, with apples, candied walnuts, goat cheese, and a really perfect viniagrette. Even the warm bread and honey butter that came before the meal was divine.
I actually cleaned both plates after J quit, which we both got a kick out of, and then he bought me froyo, even though I was so full, because I come from a long line of people who can't say no to ice cream.
There is an important lesson in froyo for me, a lesson my chocolate-loving sister learned 14 years ago: Get what you want. I always feel stupid going out for froyo, looking at the 10 different choices of froyo flavors and settling on plain old original tart. But that's always what I want. So I'm eating my dessert thinking, "Well, yeah, this is good, but I wish I had gotten the plain old."
The lesson: Get what you want. Also, don't order half price nachos if you already feel your stomach rolling at the thought of eating a whole plate of nachos. Don't order half price wings if you don't like wings. It's that simple.
Order what you feel like eating, cook what you feel like eating, and then sit and enjoy every last bite. And when you're full, stop eating. Eat the rest for lunch tomorrow. Mix unconventional leftovers (like black beans and mac-n-cheese) for an exciting day 2 experience. Treat yourself sometimes, eat slowly, eat in the sun. Eat food that reminds you of someone or someplace you love and miss. Play games like "pick-out-the-flavors-in-this-delicious-concoction." Spend some time around the family table, spend some time cooking and eating and digesting with good friends, spend some one-on-one time eating with somebody who makes you forget that you're not the only two people on the planet.
Notable eating experiences? Reflections on food? Favorite places to chow down in your area? Please share!
And also because another friend called with a post-breakup tear-stained voice, so I called her back for a round of healing affirmation and a sweepingly great conversation that ended in her recommending that I invest in a Magic Bullet for breakfast smoothie purposes, and promising to send along recipes for great, energizing, unexpected smoothies.
Smoothies are a long-time love of mine, the kind of thing I can always get into, the kind of thing I crave, and apparently I have a "smoothie face" which sets J immediately to the task of whipping up The Perfect Smoothie as soon as I walk into Bishop's after work. Chili, another of Bishop's specialties (see #5), has always been a good pick for Sunday lunch... But lately I have been really into Sunday afternoon grilled cheese sandwiches. And let me tell you, I make a wicked grilled cheese sandwich.
Some other good grilled cheese sandwiches can be found at Bittersweet on Division Street in Northfield, in the good ol' 55057 zip code--they put cream cheese on theirs, and we all know that there are very few times when I will turn down cream cheese, in almost any form. And there is also a beer and grilled cheese special somewhere in Wilmington--World Café Live at The Queen, as a matter of fact--which I haven't checked out yet, only because I've always been reminded of it at the wrong moment. But look for a review in the relatively near future.
A slight recipe mutation turns the classic grilled cheese into another big-time favorite: the beloved Tunamelt, which will never fail to send me reeling back to the Summer of Sunny V. (Incidentally, I'm thinking I'm going to have to commission a cover of Bryan Adams' all-American classic Summer of '69. Maybe Summer of Tunamelts would be a more representative title.) I haven't flown solo on the tunamelt front, maybe ever, but at least in quite some time, and let me tell you, I missed my Bizz, who always seemed to keep the pans straight, and keep the tuna sauce from burning to the bottom of the pan, and managed to make everything come together right at the right moment.
That being said, my Single-Bizz Tunamelt was a pretty killer sandwich specimen. Also, extra sharp cheddar cheese is the best cheese ever, and you can get huge blocks of it for super cheap at BJ's: the place to go for cheese, gas, and frozen pizza.
Also giant bulk packs of gum, and quick home microbrewing kits. Which sounds really gross.
Food is an important thing to think about all the time, but lately the social aspects of eating have sent my diet into very weird relief. Every Thursday, for example, Kristy and I go to either Spinning or Zumba at the Y and then hit up Applebee's for the appetizer sampler platter and drinks. That's more about the eating experience than the actual food, even though we love mozz sticks and quesadillas and tequila and spin dip and even boneless wings. (Not wings with bones, though.) I've also written about nachos and wings every other week or so, and just in general the easiest thing to do as a group of young adults is to go out somewhere to eat, drink, and be merry. This is not only easy, but gets expensive, and it also puts a little weight in the pit of my belly.
On Wednesdays in Lent my mom counts on soup suppers for our family to eat; but since I don't go to church on Wednesday nights I never have dinner plans. On the other hand, Wednesday tends to be date night, so I usually get something with J when he gets out of work. A few weeks ago we made some squash and pepper in a red wine reduction with caramelized onions, or something fancy like that. (I would have said I threw a bunch of delicious veggies into a frying pan with some oil and wine and ate it with chopsticks over rice, but J is passionate about food so he knows all the lingo. Don't quote me on it though.) Last week I dropped Maria off at band practice and then met up with him on Main Street Newark.
The air was so warm and pleasantly heavy, and all the outdoor seating was up and bustling. "My goal for tonight is to get some really good food and to really enjoy eating it," I said. And that we did.
We sat on the patio at Rooney's, and ordered a warm goat cheese salad and New Orleans pasta with blackened chicken, which was very spicy. The salad was one of the most delicious salads I've ever tasted, though, with apples, candied walnuts, goat cheese, and a really perfect viniagrette. Even the warm bread and honey butter that came before the meal was divine.
I actually cleaned both plates after J quit, which we both got a kick out of, and then he bought me froyo, even though I was so full, because I come from a long line of people who can't say no to ice cream.
There is an important lesson in froyo for me, a lesson my chocolate-loving sister learned 14 years ago: Get what you want. I always feel stupid going out for froyo, looking at the 10 different choices of froyo flavors and settling on plain old original tart. But that's always what I want. So I'm eating my dessert thinking, "Well, yeah, this is good, but I wish I had gotten the plain old."
The lesson: Get what you want. Also, don't order half price nachos if you already feel your stomach rolling at the thought of eating a whole plate of nachos. Don't order half price wings if you don't like wings. It's that simple.
Order what you feel like eating, cook what you feel like eating, and then sit and enjoy every last bite. And when you're full, stop eating. Eat the rest for lunch tomorrow. Mix unconventional leftovers (like black beans and mac-n-cheese) for an exciting day 2 experience. Treat yourself sometimes, eat slowly, eat in the sun. Eat food that reminds you of someone or someplace you love and miss. Play games like "pick-out-the-flavors-in-this-delicious-concoction." Spend some time around the family table, spend some time cooking and eating and digesting with good friends, spend some one-on-one time eating with somebody who makes you forget that you're not the only two people on the planet.
Notable eating experiences? Reflections on food? Favorite places to chow down in your area? Please share!
Fooooooooooooood!
ReplyDeleteIt was so easy to roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of a city thriving on "Foodie Culture," until I was infected with the joyful bug myself. On a recent vacation I just found myself thinking, "This [meal] would be cheaper, better, and locally sourced if I was in Portland." Between fabulous food and unrivaled beer, it's all I can do to keep extra lbs off my midsection!