Well, I've been bad, and missed out on my daily blog for the last two days. I officially have a follower! It's my boyfriend, but still, how nice to have one. Maybe, as Julie Powell called them, I'll get a second "bleader" (blog-reader) at some point.
I made a spaghetti carbonara on Saturday night that turned out much better than I thought it would. Something about quickly tossing pasta in a hot oiled pan just sounded like it was meant for disaster and a pile of pasta perma-glued to a pan destined for the garbage. But that didn't happen. Although the minced garlic that I threw in the hot oiled pan for 1 minute (true to instructions), burnt almost on contact, so that left a bit of an unpleasant taste of charred something in the pasta and me chasing away the bits of garlic that I could as to avoid said charred something taste. I will definitely make it again, but take some other suggestions of adding cream and nutmeg to the mix.
The Steveston Farmers' Market was reliably annoying, but better than normal. At least less people asked for plastic bags for one block of cheese and no one asked "So what are you selling here?". You wouldn't believe how many times I get that question. I tend to just ignore the question, when really I want to say "Oh, we're just selling a nice foot up your ass you stupid fuck!". Anyways, on a much happier note, my boyfriend and I went for our romantic picnic at Trout Lake yesterday, complete with runny brie, toasted baguette, blue cheese stuffed olives, kielbasa sausage, grapes, and white wine. That's the way food was meant to be enjoyed: al fresco, with a loved one, with wine. It was great and delicious and felt very luxurious. Even though altogether, it only cost like $10, what with the brie and baguette obtained through market trades, the white wine made by my dad, and the kick-ass vintage picnic basket/set given to us by my dad. Schweet!
Well, this morning I had some more fried breakfast potatoes, which were great. And I'm having a coffee now. Still feeling groggy as heck. I must not have slept well. Too many dreams of food? I wish. What's for dinner? Right now, all I can think of is sleep. The next best thing to sex and food. Yeah. Peace out bleaders. Or, should I say, my one and only best of all bleaders, Anthony. :)