"Just ooooone more slice."
[5 minutes intermission]
"...Okay, just one...more."
"Okay. I. Just. The. Tasty wheat."
I bought a round, crusty golden loaf of sourdough bread at the Union Square market this afternoon. It diminished to less than half of its size over the rest of the day. Behold, the magical disappearing loaf of bread! It's allll magic! Plus this chef's knife! And this pesto! And this knife to spread the pesto! And this girl who can't stop slicing the bread, slathering it with pesto, and popping it like coke! (If coke isn't popped, ignore my naivete.) MAGIC.
Dammit. Well. I can't say that's any different than what usually happens to bread in my presence. My kitchen is a killing ground for bread. "Welcome! By the way, you shall die soon."
My period started today. Why am I saying this? Hey, why are you reading this? Stop asking questions. (I talk about food and the effects of food, such as health, or lack thereof; you can skip this part if you desire.) I suppose I should write this down to keep track of things. [grabs a random post it stuck to my shelf] ...Erm, this post-it descriptively says:
"India & Apple
dessert in glass"
Huh? This is my handwriting, yes. [squints] If anyone has any idea what that means, please let me know. [scibbles down 3/1/06]
Oh, yeah. So the last time I had my period was February 7th, making my period 22 days long, which is rather short for a period. It's annoying, but I know there are worse things. For most of my period-cursed life (10 years going strong for possible another 30 years; oh jesus), I've been cramp-less. I honestly don't think having cramps is healthy (even if it may be average...actually, I guess the average person isn't healthy, if that proves my point) to have cramps. However, while I'm not very healthy I am cramp-less, and I'm sure there are relatively healthy people out there who are cramp-full. What does this mean? HUMAN BODY = SO CONFUSING. I HATE YOUUUU. I want my money back.
That previous paragraph isn't an invitation for everyone to tell me that I'm wrong. Trust me, I've learned conventional health information (I still remember those pamphlets I got in 5th grade, sponsored by Always©, so ye know it's right!) along with alternative information, in between probably retaining a lot of misinformation and maybe some truths. Or maybe I learned nothing at all. [scratches head]
I don't get mood swings. I rarely get cravings (because as you can tell, I regularly eat stuff I'd crave anyway; the hot chocolate wasn't really a craving for chocolate as much as something warm, believe it or not). However, I was especially tired today...and yesterday...and lately in general, due to getting 5-7 hours of sleep each night (probably close to 5). Nope, partying doesn't keep this girl up at night, just intense paranoia! I was annoyed to get my period today more so than usual because I really wasn't expecting it all. Many times I wonder if I have a hormonal imbalance, not just because of things like this...
And that ends this month's "Not Well Thought Out Thoughts About Things That, I Guess, Prove I Have Two X Chromosomes."
I strolled over to Jacques Torres Chocolate Haven yesterday before my food science and technology class to 1) get cookies and chocolate for a friend, 2) get a cookie for myself, and 3) test the hot chocolate as a service to my NYC-based readers and because it's freakin' cold.
The selections are numerous, decadent, and inexpensive for the quality you get. I tried the wicked, which is well described as having just a hint of peppers, but I fully intend to sear my throat with white mint, caramel, and peanut butter in the months. Or weeks. Or seconds...no, way, back up; or days. Okay, that's still ridiculously short, but a little more reasonable.
I walked back to campus as fast as I could (only a 10-15 minute walk, but still!) while wearing a backpack, carrying a shopping back and trying not to spill a steaming cup of hot chocolate. My overeagerness got the best of me when while walking up Varick Street I sucked in a thick mouthful of hot chocolate.
"Aaahcck ACK IT BURNS OHHH THE TEAR DUCTS FLOW IN RESPONSE TO THE BURNIN."
I didn't actually say that, but I thought it. And then I thought, "Holy crap, so tasty," while ignoring the fact that I just killed some delicate skin cells/tissue at the back of my tongue and upper throat. Hm. So worth it.
As you can see, this stuff is thick. It might be a little less thick and frothy than City Bakery's hot chocolate, but that's not saying much, eh? It totally made up for whatever I was given at Le Pain Quotidien that morning in addition to being insultingly cheaper. Ohhh man. Le Pain, you make me cry. Even if Le Pain's hot chocolate wasn't that bad before, it sure sucked now. Thin, body-less, flat hot chocolate compared to a liquid that coats the mouth with smooth, soft, burning deliciousness...full of processed cacao beans and fat and sugar and all the other things that taste good. Oh yes, a hint of peppers. It's pretty faint, but does the trick. (Keep in mind I accidentally burned myself, so I probably couldn't taste it that well.)
Jacques Torres' hot chocolate gets many ginormous thumbs up. I'd have no problem drinking this every day, but distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or. Too much hot chocolate makes the blogger really fat. One of those is a popular saying...
Earlier that day I went to Pio Maya on 8th Street (between 5th/6th Aves) for a little lunchie snack of the non-sweet variety. Rarely having eaten Mexican food my opinion may not mean much, but I enjoyed it and would like to go back.
I got a tamale mainly because I had never eaten one before. "I dunno what the hell this is; let's eat it!" Yeah! That's me living life on the edge...of a pillow. I told the nice guy behind the counter that I was a tamale virgin (not in those terms) so he suggested I get the chicken tamale (which had a Spanish name that I've forgotten because I don't know Spanish). While waiting for my tamale, I noticed rows of rotating chickens behind the guy...roasting...in their own fat drippings. Lordy, that stuff's gotta be good.
The tamale wasn't very foreign to me as it closely resembles a zongzi (or vice versa). As I love zongzi in all their fat-laden glutinous rice heart attack goodness, there was no way I wouldn't like a less-heart-attack-inducing (well, it was smaller and not stuffed with fatty pork) corn flour tamale. The chicken was a little drier than I was expecting, but it was still flavorful and...I dunno, what else could I ask for from chicken? Actually, I'd say the tamale was drier than what I was used to, having grown up eating zongzi, but this issue of moisture was solved by the accompanying mole sauce.
I USED IT ALL. I didn't lick the container clean (that would've looked a little odd) but I dunked every bite into the sauce. So. Good. I'm not sure I've ever had good mole sauce before, and even if I had mediocre mole sauce, it would've only been a handful of times in my life. I can't compare it to anything else; kinda spicy, kinda sweet, kinda "something else I can't come up with", not heavy, not thin, just...good stuff. It tasted brown, which doesn't help you all...but it did! IT TASTED OF BROWN.
God, that description was awful. I guess I just need to eat more sauce.
That's the interior. I was going to explain it until I realized that, hey, I'm showing you three photos; you can describe them yourself. If you want some hints, here they are:
Okay, I'm done. Ineed to write these entries earlier in the day so they sound less stupid.