I started the day with string cheese. This has been a staple of mine phor years, and I am realizing how incredibly boring it is. It’s not very tasty, it’s not very pretty- hell, I don’t even bother to “string” the string cheese. So what’s the point? Yes, it’s convenient and healthy, but since when should those be the main phactors I consider when eating? Oh wait…
Anyhow, I did my best to spice up the foto with the help of my desk monkeys…. Nope, still boring.
Phor lunch, I broke the leftover spicy catfish dish from last night into two and ate the smaller portions through the afternoon. It was just as delicious as the night before- a truly phabulous dish, I think. (Mind you, one coworker was able to nibble on a bite and another was almost brought to tears by the spice level, so be warned… I’m pretty confident I burnt off the spice receptors on my tongue years ago. Consider this a “do not try this at home” warning.)
I got home a little bit before 10 and realized I’d phorgotten about dinner. Since I am on my way out of town tomorrow for 10 days, there is really nothing in my phridge (yes, I’m using the trip as an excuse for my lack of grocery shopping when we all know deep down that most of the time, all I have in my phridge is condiments and booze). I extracted the phew edible things I had left (two eggs, basil and some scallions) and cooked it up. I carmelized the scallions, so they were wonderfully sweet, which went so well with the somewhat minty somewhat peppery phlavor of the basil.
I used these phancy schmancy silicone egg poaching cups I got as a stocking stuffer two years ago (yes, this is the phirst time I’ve used them in two years, and I’m actually lying a bit- I have been philling my own stocking phor years now, so I didn’t really “get” them so much as “purchased” them for myself).
Moral of the story- they suck. They completely eliminate the mystical romance of poaching and instead create something reminiscent of a Denny’s breakfast. These will be donated quite soon, and hopefully they can warm the heart of some weird, lazy cook who has no love for the physical beauty of phood, poor soul.
P.S. I will send a phabulous prize to the phoodie who phirst correctly identifies the source of today’s post title…