Energy mustered. Dinner cooked. Fusion. Only one whole week late!
I have a piece of art in the kitchen that I love love love, but I’m considering its relocation to the den in favor of these:
Brooklyn Bowl: Williamsburg, Brooklyn; October 11, 2009 at 2:49PM. Killer Nutella milkshake.
I’m very sad to say, there were no jackasses who put falafel in a taco shell. I really, really wanted someone to do it.
I can do a Smackdown when tired. I can do a Smackdown when sick. I can do a Smackdown while nauseous. What I can NOT do is a Smackdown while exhausted, sick AND nauseous. The guilt that dogs me because this Smackdown was to be a birthday treat for a good friend can only drive ...
Top Chef returns this week, and I’m psyched because: Guest Judge Tyler Florence! Do you have any idea how many hits I’m going to get tomorrow for some permutation of “Tyler Florence douchebag”? Off the hook, yo.
Okay, it totally is. It’s also a great excuse for going to the emergency room, and for taking a broad-spectrum antibiotic.* I had a plan for tonight’s dinner and everything, so as soon as this whole coughing-up-blood thing is past I’m all over this shit.