Sometimes it’s not the actual food that’s fucked-up (although it usually is), sometimes it’s just the packaging.
The captions will make everything clear, because I know that grilled cheese with mashed potatoes does not look like a romantic cliche. Also, do you know how hard it is to find a cookbook with recipes for plain grilled cheese and mashed potatoes?
…who went to high school together in central New Jersey in the early nineties, a time of unfortunate amounts of flannel and hair that was just beginning to make its slow descent from The Great Bang Upheaval of 1986-91.
NB: I am aware that it is not yet Valentine’s Day, but (1) I couldn’t give a dead donkey’s shit about Valentine’s Day and (2) this is February’s First Thursday, and I had to justify the romance of a grilled cheese sandwich.
Screw the jelly, are you ready for Eric Ripert? Because he is coming, and either you think he’s incredibly handsome or looks kind of like a Dolph Lundgren-esque serial killer. Either way, he’s a dangerous man with a fillet knife.
I know that last week the site went down once or twice during the show. I don’t know if it was a freak thing, or if BlueHost is so completely pathetic that it can’t handle 17 people hitting refresh at once. If it happens again, (1) don’t panic and (2) it only lasts for a minute or two, so hang on.
Because I think I almost just did, but I caught myself just in time.
I was mulling over what to make for dinner tonight, and was thinking about a pasta-and-lentil dish based on a classic Neapolitan dish called pasta e lenticchie. It’s too difficult to translate the real name from the Italian, so let’s just stick with pasta-and-lentils.
Today’s the last day of Bloggie voting, so hop on over! Scroll aaaaaaaall the way to the right to find me. If you don’t get a confirmation email, as many have reported, email firstname.lastname@example.org to have your ballot approved. Because if I go down I will initiate a painfully drawn-out recount process, and no one wants that.
Muchas gracias or “props” to all of you who’ve supported me – I couldn’t have done it without you (literally)!
Is this what your breakfast looked like? Because this is what my breakfast looked like. Freshly baked savory blue cheese croissants, raspberry jam and café au lait at the kitchen table sparkling with streams of late-morning sunlight. It was almost like I live in Paris instead of Jersey City, except in Paris the hobos engaged in fisticuffs on the street corner would presumably be yelling their expletives in French.*
*I would give you some examples, but I only know Italian expletives. If you know French expletives, please share!