P wanted a late night snack so he bought a couple of pepperoni slices from the newly revamped Lean Crust Pizza parlor downstairs. Pssst, it's not as good but definitely good enough. I had a genius idea to cut off the crusts and use them as dippers for hummus. So good, like warm pita bread. Then I cut the slices into little squares to share.
For lunch having returned from the road trip and I'm sure excessive beer drinking he wanted to eat lighter, but I needed substantial grub, so I made a big pot of chicken sausage, potatoes, kale, Savoy cabbage, red onions, red apple and garlic. A nice balsamic vinegar, pickle juice and pepper flakes really boosted the flavor pop of all the vegetables. I did big bite size chunks in order to taste the nuances of each one. There is something to remembering the food you ate that day due to a series of circumstances. That's interesting to me and fun, to make a little story out of it. I like reading them years later and thinking about it.
I used to have this plant in San Francisco that I kept alive by storing it's overgrown roots in a separate jar that my roommate called it's colostomy bag. I had carried that plant from Fresno to San Francisco from apartment to apartment, broken relationships and it too had been on it's death bed at times. My roommate had a green thumb and was bothered by it's odd look. She couldn't understand why I felt compelled to keep it alive. Sometimes that's what this blog feels like to me. Maybe I should let it go and die somewhere in the internet universe but I can't. All these meals are connected to life and stories. I made this because that happened. But everything I'm understanding right now proves that we should shed any ideas of who we think we are, our egoic connections. So I can't decide if this is that or something different. Am I holding onto the past by constructing this site as a monument to the idea of me or is it simply an innocent way of sharing dumb thoughts and food ideas out to the world?
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