There are some realities that I am reluctant to face.
Example:
- brown sugar is just refined white sugar mixed with molasses. True and a total bummer.
- a one cup measure is a different volume for dry ingredients than liquid. True and annoying.
- baby carrots are just badly formed big carrots that are shaved down to look like amputated fingers. True, unsurprising, but disappointing.
There are other realities I ignore completely. For instance, taking lactaid pills might improve my experience with most dairy products. Instead I just limit my general consumption and reserve the journey to fartland for really important things like Fromage d'Affinois and pints of Ben & Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie Chunk ice cream.
And then there are realities that I create for myself that are just not real at all. Like thinking I'm starving. It's a well known part of privileged American culture to open up a mostly full fridge *see nothing*, close the door, and declare in total disgust "there is NOTHING to eat." This the way I ended up breaking one of my various vegetarian spells. During college I came home to my parents' house to find the fridge barren - on the most barren of fridge days, their fridge is STOCKED, they live in the woods, it's not as if the store is just down the way and they can pick up whatever, whenever. In their most modest states of larder emptiness they have on hand enough to throw together a multi-course dinner for 45 people- and yet, I couldn't see a thing in there save the great majority of a barbequed chicken from the night before that was gracefully contained inside a greasy, recycled plastic bag.
Now birds are pretty far down on my list of preferred meaty bits. Given the choice I'd put steak and lamb WELL ahead of any fowl. The stringy texture of that animal....ooof, gives me the willys. Nevertheless, in that moment of total starvation I saw no other choice. I assumed it was a pre-meditated plan to derail my honorable vegetarianism. After exactly 6 seconds of consideration, I decided I would give them a piece of my mind just as soon as I had replenished my energy stores.
I virtually inhaled this bird's thigh, licked that bone clean before starting in on a drumstick. I was standing in the kitchen, leaning over the island (couldn't even manage the decent move of getting a plate and having a seat), chewing bones and sucking marrow, when someone (mom?) finally noticed that I was eating chicken, and that it was weird, and then warned me - geniusly - not to make myself sick. I'm sure I did. I just can't remember.
I was struck by a similar moment and feeling last night in my kitchen. I got home at 11:00pm from a 4 hour DEEP quilting session (ps I'm a quilter now) and was famished. I opened my fridge - it's little, I can see everything it has to offer and saw this: six beers, a bag of brewers yeast, two sticks of butter, an unripe Fuyu persimmon, half an onion, a rind of some old parmesan, wilting kale, eight eggs, and a jar of plum jam. It was an odd assortment. I had no bread in the house, no crackers, nothing of the quick fix nuts and fruit snack variety. I assessed the dry goods: cous cous, panko bread crumbs, lentils, pasta, Arborio rice, brown rice, several types of beans. There was no easy solution for short term satisfaction. I finally found the inner strength to saute the kale and fry an egg. It took all of six minutes and I just about passed out. But I survived to tell about it.
And what is my point in all of this? Maybe just that I'll never be good at being a truly starving person. And for that I am sorry because every day millions of people are doing a much better job at starving than I am. I only hope that in their lowest moments they open the fridge and find the better part of a whole barbequed chicken. It might not be their first choice but, like me, it may let them live to see dinner.
Days of Thanks - Recap
Controversy surrounds the particular day of the year covered in this post. From a mainstream cultural perspective it does make sense that we call it Thanksgiving rather than say Smallpoxgiving or Slaverygiving, or even Slaughtergiving. And though it refers to a disturbing time in history, it remains a favorite day for many of us, myself included, if only because I ignore the past, spend time with my family, and eat myself into a minor coma.
I have celebrated every single Thanksgiving of my life in Mendocino and all but one of them in my cousins' home. This is a great thing because my cousin Lance can cook. Like really cook, the way real cooks do.
You might be wondering why I care about Thanksgiving since it is a meal that highlights meat. I mean look at that handsome thing, the very face - roasted body - of the holiday:
True, I don't do the bird, nor the stuffing, nor the gravy and then what are we really talking about? Cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, a green vegetable?....Here's the thing, like many of the women in my family, I loooooove mashed potatoes. Not casually, I would marry them and it's a love that will last a lifetime. Thanksgiving may as well just be a tribute meal to potatoes and that would be ok with me. But I admit, the situation is dramatically enhanced by a protein. And here's where tradition steps through the door. Each year, my cousin procures abalone for me. He pounds that little animal, breads it, and fries it.
I have been eating abalone on Thanksgiving for several years now and it goes without saying that it continues to be a total highlight. If you've never had fried abalone it's best described as glorified chicken tenders, except I don't like those, and I love these. What can I say, I'm a classy gal and I like classy stuff.
Another notable accoutrement to our meal included sauteed chantrelles(before and after glamour shots):
And like all exceptional Turkey Day fests, we ended this one with pie. Not surprisingly, I was entirely too full to eat as much as I wanted. There was pumpkin, apple and pecan pie with fresh made whipped cream. And by our calculations the eight of us needed to make it through 1.5 pies each to finish the job. It was an intense moment physically and mentally. I had done the wise move of trying to nap between the main meal and dessert. Unfortunately, I hadn't quite achieved the level of stomach room I was hoping to. The pecan pie was especially inspiring since the pecans were hand carried from Louisianna and were grown by one of the state's more notable pecan farmers. Look at this thing, those pecans are as big as cockroaches!
Next year I may try to opt in to a friend's tradition of eating Thanksgiving pie the night before actual Thanksgiving. Now that is brilliant and makes PERFECT sense. For starters, it eliminates the highly unAmerican need to "pace yourself" or "exercise control" in order to make it to the Thanksgiving finish line and instead you can inflict total pain on your body twice. But it also gives your digestive tract a bit of a dry-run in advance - an extra thorough stretching, if you will...and I might, next year.
It took days to recover from this and the massive family brunch two days later was a total set-back. That being said, I'm already excited for abalone next year.
I have celebrated every single Thanksgiving of my life in Mendocino and all but one of them in my cousins' home. This is a great thing because my cousin Lance can cook. Like really cook, the way real cooks do.
You might be wondering why I care about Thanksgiving since it is a meal that highlights meat. I mean look at that handsome thing, the very face - roasted body - of the holiday:
True, I don't do the bird, nor the stuffing, nor the gravy and then what are we really talking about? Cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, a green vegetable?....Here's the thing, like many of the women in my family, I loooooove mashed potatoes. Not casually, I would marry them and it's a love that will last a lifetime. Thanksgiving may as well just be a tribute meal to potatoes and that would be ok with me. But I admit, the situation is dramatically enhanced by a protein. And here's where tradition steps through the door. Each year, my cousin procures abalone for me. He pounds that little animal, breads it, and fries it.
I have been eating abalone on Thanksgiving for several years now and it goes without saying that it continues to be a total highlight. If you've never had fried abalone it's best described as glorified chicken tenders, except I don't like those, and I love these. What can I say, I'm a classy gal and I like classy stuff. Another notable accoutrement to our meal included sauteed chantrelles(before and after glamour shots):
And like all exceptional Turkey Day fests, we ended this one with pie. Not surprisingly, I was entirely too full to eat as much as I wanted. There was pumpkin, apple and pecan pie with fresh made whipped cream. And by our calculations the eight of us needed to make it through 1.5 pies each to finish the job. It was an intense moment physically and mentally. I had done the wise move of trying to nap between the main meal and dessert. Unfortunately, I hadn't quite achieved the level of stomach room I was hoping to. The pecan pie was especially inspiring since the pecans were hand carried from Louisianna and were grown by one of the state's more notable pecan farmers. Look at this thing, those pecans are as big as cockroaches!
Next year I may try to opt in to a friend's tradition of eating Thanksgiving pie the night before actual Thanksgiving. Now that is brilliant and makes PERFECT sense. For starters, it eliminates the highly unAmerican need to "pace yourself" or "exercise control" in order to make it to the Thanksgiving finish line and instead you can inflict total pain on your body twice. But it also gives your digestive tract a bit of a dry-run in advance - an extra thorough stretching, if you will...and I might, next year.
It took days to recover from this and the massive family brunch two days later was a total set-back. That being said, I'm already excited for abalone next year.
New Years Resolution
It's a little early to be making promises, no? Thankfully I'm not talking about conscious action, I'm talking about drinking. Ah yes, delicious beverages rich in anti-oxidents, probiotics, and alcohol.
Who thought it was possible?
I've got a few friends embarking on a new chilled beverage endeavor.
Artisan Kombucha (sparkling probiotic tea, they like to say) being brewed with love in Petaluma. No really, their Kombucha is fermenting slowly in a warm space called the Love Shack. Exhibit the proof below.
You can find it in 20 Bay Area Whole Foods stores in three delicious flavors: chamomile, ginger, and Gravenstein apple. And you can find many empty bottles in my kitchen thanks to a visit last Friday from LonjeviTea co-founder Michaela who unveiled this brilliant and tasty seasonal drink.
Recipe below:
New Years Resolution
1 ounce vodka
3 ounces LonjeviTea Ginger Kombucha
1.5 ounces pomegranate juice
Blend, shake, pour, enjoy.
As Patton Oswalt likes to say: you're welcome, we're science.
Who thought it was possible?
I've got a few friends embarking on a new chilled beverage endeavor.
Artisan Kombucha (sparkling probiotic tea, they like to say) being brewed with love in Petaluma. No really, their Kombucha is fermenting slowly in a warm space called the Love Shack. Exhibit the proof below.
You can find it in 20 Bay Area Whole Foods stores in three delicious flavors: chamomile, ginger, and Gravenstein apple. And you can find many empty bottles in my kitchen thanks to a visit last Friday from LonjeviTea co-founder Michaela who unveiled this brilliant and tasty seasonal drink.
Recipe below:
New Years Resolution
1 ounce vodka
3 ounces LonjeviTea Ginger Kombucha
1.5 ounces pomegranate juice
Blend, shake, pour, enjoy.
As Patton Oswalt likes to say: you're welcome, we're science.
Some Seasonal, Some Local, All Gourmet
BOO!!! (Weak right? Halloween was over a month ago). Just figured I'd pop back up again as we prepare to cruise on into 2010. I have a new job, in a new town, with a new home. Things are above average on lots of fronts, right down to my sweet one bedroom cottage a few miles from the coast on a sunny piece of land with a garden, chickens, and an apple tree. Color me lucky.
The eating hasn't been too bad either. There are very few places I'd rather be challenged to eat seasonally and locally. California's North Coast boasts an incredible variety of fruits, seafood, veggies, and dairy that can, thankfully, be easily foraged or found at a locally owned store.
My 'recently enjoyed' food list includes a multitude of items that have involved no money to acquire, that have come from my parents' garden or forest, friends, farmers (who leave us things at work in exchange for our coffee bags and chaff), and of course my own backyard. This list includes but is not limited to:
locally harvested sea salt, chantrelle mushrooms, apples, persimmons, lettuce, parsley, kale, onions, garlic, huckleberries, abalone, carrots, peppers, eggs, chard, beets, and squash.
Other featured items that have been purchased but come from less than 150 miles away include: great wine from the Anderson Valley, delicious bread from the Beaujolais or the Fort Bragg Bakery, local olive oil, butter, cheese, yogurt, potatoes.
During the summer both these lists were longer and included tomatoes, basil, rhubarb, plums, peas, blackberries, strawberries, blueberries, peaches, spinach, melons, lemon cucumbers, artichokes...In short, the quality of my food life here is outstanding.
One of the very few downsides to my new living situation is the mini-fridge in the galley kitchen. I prefer a well-stocked kitchen myself but space doesn't allow for a full sized fridge/freezer, greatly limiting my ability to keep a deep store of goods on hand. It has been an adjustment but I am getting used to thinking in advance about my meals. During one of my more challenging evenings when the fridge was on the barer side, I discovered that I had everything on hand to make oatmeal raisin cookies - I split the recipe and made dinner on four of the those tasty nuggets. The nice thing about living alone is that I didn't have to answer to anyone about that choice. Serenity in the home is a priceless thing.
There have been a number of kitchen triumphs as well. Most recently a pre-meditated meal of mushroom risotto and salad rendered thus:
Mushroom risotto: chantrelles, parsley, onions, garlic, and white wine of a local persuasion (rice from Argentina compliments of Lotus Foods).
Salad: mixed lettuces, apples, persimmon and carrots from my backyard or an otherwise nearby plot.
Winter time and the livin' is easy....
The eating hasn't been too bad either. There are very few places I'd rather be challenged to eat seasonally and locally. California's North Coast boasts an incredible variety of fruits, seafood, veggies, and dairy that can, thankfully, be easily foraged or found at a locally owned store.
My 'recently enjoyed' food list includes a multitude of items that have involved no money to acquire, that have come from my parents' garden or forest, friends, farmers (who leave us things at work in exchange for our coffee bags and chaff), and of course my own backyard. This list includes but is not limited to:
locally harvested sea salt, chantrelle mushrooms, apples, persimmons, lettuce, parsley, kale, onions, garlic, huckleberries, abalone, carrots, peppers, eggs, chard, beets, and squash.
Other featured items that have been purchased but come from less than 150 miles away include: great wine from the Anderson Valley, delicious bread from the Beaujolais or the Fort Bragg Bakery, local olive oil, butter, cheese, yogurt, potatoes.
During the summer both these lists were longer and included tomatoes, basil, rhubarb, plums, peas, blackberries, strawberries, blueberries, peaches, spinach, melons, lemon cucumbers, artichokes...In short, the quality of my food life here is outstanding.
One of the very few downsides to my new living situation is the mini-fridge in the galley kitchen. I prefer a well-stocked kitchen myself but space doesn't allow for a full sized fridge/freezer, greatly limiting my ability to keep a deep store of goods on hand. It has been an adjustment but I am getting used to thinking in advance about my meals. During one of my more challenging evenings when the fridge was on the barer side, I discovered that I had everything on hand to make oatmeal raisin cookies - I split the recipe and made dinner on four of the those tasty nuggets. The nice thing about living alone is that I didn't have to answer to anyone about that choice. Serenity in the home is a priceless thing.
There have been a number of kitchen triumphs as well. Most recently a pre-meditated meal of mushroom risotto and salad rendered thus:
Mushroom risotto: chantrelles, parsley, onions, garlic, and white wine of a local persuasion (rice from Argentina compliments of Lotus Foods).
Salad: mixed lettuces, apples, persimmon and carrots from my backyard or an otherwise nearby plot.
Winter time and the livin' is easy....
Eating Up in a Down Economy
It's no joke this recession. Back when I was a spry recent graduate and a rising young professional in San Francisco's elite I used to frequent the local restaurants. Now that I'm an unemployed, sucker of state resources I don't go down that road as often. Below is a pictorial of the way we keep our bellies full on the cheap.
As a side note, I've had a pizza stone on loan and I have to say it really does enhance the pizza making experience. Whole wheat pizza crust (Trader Joe's) with homemade tomato sauce, organic mozzarella, spinach, tomatoes, and green pepper on one half, pepperoni and green peppers on the other.
Nothing says winter time warm-up on a shoe string budget like packaged
Asian noodle soup (available at Berkeley Bowl and local health food stores). MSG free and organic these little dream snacks run you about $1.50. I'm a big fan of the Spicy Dragon flavor and like to add Sambal Olek for extra heat and whatever green I have on hand, bok choy or kale are great. You can even sautee them before in a little sesame oil with white pepper salt and ginger powder for an added flavor boost.
I love fried eggs (over easy or over medium) and laid simply over a piece of toast with a few glittering green olives on the side is a delightful savory breakfast or afternoon snack.
A popular dinner at our place is spaghetti and meatballs with salad and garlic bread. I'm not really one for meat but these ground turkey meatballs are truly exceptional (a little hard to see in the pic but they are clustered in the 11:30 position of the bowl below). The recipe here is halved which is still more than two of us can eat:
1/2 lb ground turkey
1/4 c chopped Italian parsley
1/4 c grated parmasean cheese
2 Tbs bread crumbs
1/4 medium white onion finely diced
2 cloves garlic finely diced
1 Tbs red pepper flakes (adjust for desired heat)
1/2 egg beaten well
1-2 dashes balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper to taste
optional: sprinkle of Italian seasoning
Preheat oven to 375 degrees
Combine all ingredients in a large bowl until they are well incorporated.
Lightly grease a baking sheet with olive oil
Roll meatballs 1.5 - 2 inches at widest point
Add a drop of olive oil to the top of each meatball
Meatballs will need to cook from 16-18 minutes. Check them mid-way through and when the bottoms start to brown flip them once. When both sides are browned they are down.
Makes 9-12 meatballs
Lastly I should mention I'm not the only one encouraging how to eat well on pennies. Visit my friends Gabi and Adam over at BrokeAss Gourmet for more recipes and ranting.
As a side note, I've had a pizza stone on loan and I have to say it really does enhance the pizza making experience. Whole wheat pizza crust (Trader Joe's) with homemade tomato sauce, organic mozzarella, spinach, tomatoes, and green pepper on one half, pepperoni and green peppers on the other.Nothing says winter time warm-up on a shoe string budget like packaged
Asian noodle soup (available at Berkeley Bowl and local health food stores). MSG free and organic these little dream snacks run you about $1.50. I'm a big fan of the Spicy Dragon flavor and like to add Sambal Olek for extra heat and whatever green I have on hand, bok choy or kale are great. You can even sautee them before in a little sesame oil with white pepper salt and ginger powder for an added flavor boost.
I love fried eggs (over easy or over medium) and laid simply over a piece of toast with a few glittering green olives on the side is a delightful savory breakfast or afternoon snack.
A popular dinner at our place is spaghetti and meatballs with salad and garlic bread. I'm not really one for meat but these ground turkey meatballs are truly exceptional (a little hard to see in the pic but they are clustered in the 11:30 position of the bowl below). The recipe here is halved which is still more than two of us can eat:
1/2 lb ground turkey
1/4 c chopped Italian parsley
1/4 c grated parmasean cheese
2 Tbs bread crumbs
1/4 medium white onion finely diced
2 cloves garlic finely diced
1 Tbs red pepper flakes (adjust for desired heat)
1/2 egg beaten well
1-2 dashes balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper to taste
optional: sprinkle of Italian seasoning
Preheat oven to 375 degrees
Combine all ingredients in a large bowl until they are well incorporated.
Lightly grease a baking sheet with olive oil
Roll meatballs 1.5 - 2 inches at widest point
Add a drop of olive oil to the top of each meatball
Meatballs will need to cook from 16-18 minutes. Check them mid-way through and when the bottoms start to brown flip them once. When both sides are browned they are down.
Makes 9-12 meatballs
Lastly I should mention I'm not the only one encouraging how to eat well on pennies. Visit my friends Gabi and Adam over at BrokeAss Gourmet for more recipes and ranting.
Gut Bombs from the Heartland
I can't believe I never wrote about EZ and my road trip. Jeez, I'm embarrassed. Amateur hour at the Kitchen Assassin. I went so far as to take more pictures on our 7 day road trip from Indiana to California than I did for three weeks in Morocco. (Not true). Truthfully though, parts of our trip felt a little like Morocco (also not true). But all of the states we drove through were pretty much firsts for the Zarlin kids (except right at the beginning when we hit Chicago - and then later in Utah and Nevada - so not true either).
Nothing says 'tasty treats from the Heartland' like Bozeman, Montana. Night three marked our arrival into this much anticipated destination. And sure enough dinner at the Pour House Bar & Grill did not disappoint. Although this is clearly a social artery 
in this college town, the Pour House does not have a website, so go have a visit yourself at 15 N. Rouse Ave and then enjoy either of the two gut bombs below.
Exhibit A: Philly Cheesesteak with a memorable pickled cucumber garnish.
Exhibit B: A traditional BLT with a half ton of B.
Breakfast was perhaps even more poetic. I knew little of Bozeman save what a dear friend had advised me "eat the banana bread French Toast". There was no mention of the place that served it, just to eat it while in Bozeman. How fortuitous that we happened upon the Cateye Cafe (not true, we Yelped it).
Miraculously banana bread French Toast was on the menu and sure enough made a daring vault into my stomach. EZ eased into some cream cheese filled croissant with Marion berry sauce and Chantilly cream. The gut bomb dream once again realized and fulfilled.
My but hasn't this gotten a little lengthy? Apologies, but it was a trip filled with culinary wonder and artery clogging inspiration. Though there are no photos, night four proved to be very enlightening on the culinary front. Having once fancied myself a foodie and prided myself for being able to understand menus that use banyuls, panisse, and harissa, I relish in the discovery of simple concepts that have escaped me. Enter thrifty ski bums and the soul warming essence of Chili Mac cooked expertly in a cozy kitchen in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Our ratio for three people was two boxes Mac 'n Cheese to two 14 oz cans of vegetarian chili. It's heady and sticks to your ribs too.
Finally we were full. And finally we could drive the rest of the way home...just in time for Thanksgiving.
EZ picked me up from the Indiana airport and we high-tailed it to Madison, Wisconsin, a place we were both ecstatic to be visiting. I made an important call for dinner suggestions to Madison veteran Pat and soon enough we had found our way into Dotty Dumpling's Dowry . Though their website boasts "award winning hamburgers" our strategic visit actually reflected the quest for the oft lauded fried Mac 'n Cheese. Because mac and cheese just wasn't good enough, they had to wad it up and throw it in the deep fryer. I was only good for a few of these gut bombs, but EZ put them down with little fight.
Night two found us on a long dark stretch of road that led to and then passed the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. Although a prevalence of strip malls and fast food joints called our names "Hey EZ, I'm feeling Arby's" (not true) we eventually made our way to the surprisingly cute single block of historic downtown (oddly reminiscent of Fort Bragg, CA) and wandered blindly into Cafe Teresa. Who could have guessed that on a Thursday night the place would be lively, vibrant, ebullient even owing in no small part to...weekly pizza night! We congratulated ourselves on finding such a local gem, then ordered the special veggie pizza replete with tomatoes, pesto, spinach, and a few types of cheese. We made our way to our table, a small two top next to a large shelf brimming with colorful balls of yarn and a bulletin board adorned with local artwork 
. (For those without eagle eyes, the sign below says "Longfellow 3rd Grade" and those dramatic renderings of undersea life are an obvious excercise in youthful imagination, what with South Dakota being a landlocked state and all). We happily took in the decor and local flavor. Time past. We continued to wait patiently. Some more time past. We waited less patiently. (We still had three hours to drive to Kadoka -- obviously the gateway to The Badlands). Then we got totally impatient but the pizza still wasn't there. Finally after an hour and fifteen minutes of waiting we discovered that they cooked each pizza one at a time. The place was packed. We agreed we might be waiting for days more. 
Was it rude there was no warning anywhere about the potential for the long wait? We decided the nice people of Mitchell probably looked forward to pizza night all week and were really in no rush to go anywhere (except the Corn Palace as soon as it opened in the morning). The pizza finally arrived and certainly had its merits but they were fairly well lost on a couple of impatient road trippers with lots more land to cover before daybreak. For posterity's sake we ate a piece in-house before boxing it up and enjoying the rest from the back seat of the truck as we drove.
Night two found us on a long dark stretch of road that led to and then passed the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. Although a prevalence of strip malls and fast food joints called our names "Hey EZ, I'm feeling Arby's" (not true) we eventually made our way to the surprisingly cute single block of historic downtown (oddly reminiscent of Fort Bragg, CA) and wandered blindly into Cafe Teresa. Who could have guessed that on a Thursday night the place would be lively, vibrant, ebullient even owing in no small part to...weekly pizza night! We congratulated ourselves on finding such a local gem, then ordered the special veggie pizza replete with tomatoes, pesto, spinach, and a few types of cheese. We made our way to our table, a small two top next to a large shelf brimming with colorful balls of yarn and a bulletin board adorned with local artwork 
. (For those without eagle eyes, the sign below says "Longfellow 3rd Grade" and those dramatic renderings of undersea life are an obvious excercise in youthful imagination, what with South Dakota being a landlocked state and all). We happily took in the decor and local flavor. Time past. We continued to wait patiently. Some more time past. We waited less patiently. (We still had three hours to drive to Kadoka -- obviously the gateway to The Badlands). Then we got totally impatient but the pizza still wasn't there. Finally after an hour and fifteen minutes of waiting we discovered that they cooked each pizza one at a time. The place was packed. We agreed we might be waiting for days more. 
Was it rude there was no warning anywhere about the potential for the long wait? We decided the nice people of Mitchell probably looked forward to pizza night all week and were really in no rush to go anywhere (except the Corn Palace as soon as it opened in the morning). The pizza finally arrived and certainly had its merits but they were fairly well lost on a couple of impatient road trippers with lots more land to cover before daybreak. For posterity's sake we ate a piece in-house before boxing it up and enjoying the rest from the back seat of the truck as we drove.
Nothing says 'tasty treats from the Heartland' like Bozeman, Montana. Night three marked our arrival into this much anticipated destination. And sure enough dinner at the Pour House Bar & Grill did not disappoint. Although this is clearly a social artery 
in this college town, the Pour House does not have a website, so go have a visit yourself at 15 N. Rouse Ave and then enjoy either of the two gut bombs below.Exhibit A: Philly Cheesesteak with a memorable pickled cucumber garnish.
Exhibit B: A traditional BLT with a half ton of B.
Breakfast was perhaps even more poetic. I knew little of Bozeman save what a dear friend had advised me "eat the banana bread French Toast". There was no mention of the place that served it, just to eat it while in Bozeman. How fortuitous that we happened upon the Cateye Cafe (not true, we Yelped it).
Miraculously banana bread French Toast was on the menu and sure enough made a daring vault into my stomach. EZ eased into some cream cheese filled croissant with Marion berry sauce and Chantilly cream. The gut bomb dream once again realized and fulfilled.
My but hasn't this gotten a little lengthy? Apologies, but it was a trip filled with culinary wonder and artery clogging inspiration. Though there are no photos, night four proved to be very enlightening on the culinary front. Having once fancied myself a foodie and prided myself for being able to understand menus that use banyuls, panisse, and harissa, I relish in the discovery of simple concepts that have escaped me. Enter thrifty ski bums and the soul warming essence of Chili Mac cooked expertly in a cozy kitchen in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Our ratio for three people was two boxes Mac 'n Cheese to two 14 oz cans of vegetarian chili. It's heady and sticks to your ribs too.Other culinary delights graced us during the next few meals but it wasn't until until our final morning on the road that a place of true nobility arose like a Phoenix from the deviant ashes of Reno, Nevada. 
Say hello to Peg's Glorified Ham N Eggs (true) but again, no website. I have no idea who that guy in the picture is....EZ and I shared the final gut bombs of our journey. 
An omelet with Swiss cheese and spinach and Eggs Florentine sharing the plate below.
Say hello to Peg's Glorified Ham N Eggs (true) but again, no website. I have no idea who that guy in the picture is....EZ and I shared the final gut bombs of our journey. 
An omelet with Swiss cheese and spinach and Eggs Florentine sharing the plate below.Finally we were full. And finally we could drive the rest of the way home...just in time for Thanksgiving.
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