Little to Say, Less to Eat

I'm shaming all of you, I know. I have been lazy, and distracted, and non-blog oriented. I realize that part of it has to do with a weekend disinterest in food. I deal in food all day long so when I'm not at work my concerns and attention lie elsewhere. I eat when food runs into me. Which seems to happen more often if beer has run into me (as was the case on Sunday at the Folk Life Festival where Kettle Korn, Falafal, and Nachos all ran into me in a span of a few hours-- kind of incredible that my intestines weren't affected by the trifecta fusion cuisine-- but delve deeper: those things are actually exactly the same, corn and beans cooked in oil. Amazing, no?). To further highlight what I'm talking about I'll give you my eating during the last twenty four hours. Please bear in mind that I have a cold, which is also contributing to a non-interest-- for those not in the know, food isn't quite as fun when you can't smell or taste it. So it goes:

Yesterday: I got to work, rummaged in the fridge and happened upon a peach yogurt (a flavor I loathe) and some bags of sample granola that have been open for a few weeks now. In theory a good combo, but hating the yogurt flavor and eating it with stale granola really doesn't do much for a person. I treated myself to Bahn Mai for lunch which never fails to impress. I went sailing at Duck Dodge after work thus dinner was a big Red Stripe, a Full Sail and some chips and guacamole (I use that term generously as it was the generic version of Imo which means the first four ingredients are dairy products and oil, then it moves to a long list of preservatives, and finally some green coloring-- nary a listing for avocado). I ate three grape tomatoes when I got home and had a slice of the insanely good beer cheese I bought for Chris and Randy at the Pike Place Cheese Festival at some point last week. The beer cheese really tastes like eating cheese while drinking beer, which may seem weird until you think about having a one stop fondue experience, and then it makes tremendous sense. In case you find yourself pining for beer cheese you can take a gander here.

Today: Went to work (after blowing about a half gallon of snot out of my nose) and interestingly enough, didn't really want any yogurt. Had the foresight to bring a Thai Kitchen soup with me. It's funny. I've had this Thai Soup sitting in my bedroom since I moved here. It was one of the reminders of life in San Francisco. Given I was sick and soup seemed appropriate, I thought I'd have it for lunch. No no, I ate it at 7:35 this morning when I was more or less craving a salt lick. It was fantastic...although having eaten lunch for breakfast I was at a little bit of a loss when elevensies rolled around. I went fridge diving again and came up with a sample pack of hummus, a whole wheat tortilla, a yellow bell pepper, shredded cabbage, shredded carrots, peperoncinis, and Parmesan cheese. I mean, on paper, that experience of a single fridge dive resulting in such splendor seems ideal. But you have to understand that what I listed was pretty much exactly everything in the fridge (minus yesterday's peach yogurt). Because that's the way things are. We keep in our fridge exactly what we need. Which means, the same food will be there tomorrow. I could either eat exactly that, or drink from an unlabeled gallon jar of Caesar dressing (which also happened to be in there but which I deigned not to mention). So now I'm back home, which is ironically the place I eat the least. Especially interesting is that Chris and Randy don't keep chocolate in the house, which is I think a lifetime first. In the beginning it was kind of hard to deal with, but true to all that diet literature, once it isn't around and you stop eating it, you cease craving it. It's kind of liberating not to be a slave to the dark stuff.

And this is what I'm talking about. My food life on the day to day, is quite uninteresting right now. Although as I write this, I'm realizing you might be thinking "Wow, that's more than I eat in a week" or "Save some for the starving children in Somalia." Perspective is everything, friend, and for me this is highly uninspired. Food is feeling less about eating and more about thinking. Which is probably good in the long run. But are you better off for having read this? Doubtful. And am I better off for having written it? Unlikely. I wouldn't say this is the beginning of the end of the Assassin, merely a moderate period of hibernating. I promise that the next entry, whenever it happens, will be more compelling. In the interim, if you are interested in finding out what people in Chicago are eating this season, you should think about stopping here.