Monthly Archives: February 2013

A yum in yellow

One morning in Denver last month, two of my dearest friends and I found ourselves stranded outside a poetry bookstore that was supposed to be open, wondering what to do with ourselves. As we sat and pondered our cruel separation from poetry, the door of Aion Cafe kept opening and throwing out delicious smells.

Finally we could resist no longer and went to breakfast. Among us we had baked eggs, quinoa with greens and merguez sausage, and soft polenta topped with tomato ragu and an egg.

Check me out:

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Isn’t that nice? I can’t eat many tomatoes, because I am a hideously delicate flower (hate), so I tossed a bunch of peppers, leeks, and garlic in some olive oil and cooked them into submission.

I ate plenty of this over the polenta with a bit of goat cheese on top, and that is no slouch. But that soft-fried egg, oozing into all the crevices. Recommend x20.

We’ll be together whatever the weather

Do you know the old rhyme behind Groundhog Day?

“If Candlemas Day be fair and bright, winter will have another flight. But if it be dark with clouds and rain, winter is gone and will not come again.”

“I hope the rhyme is true,” I said then, “because it it HOT. Gross.”

Spring tried to come around here:

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(See the tender little plants growing in our neighbor’s gutter? I love those things. Also, it makes me feel better about our indifferent gutter work.)

But now all that heat is over. All the Yoostonyuns who pulled out their shorts will have to wear socks again. We are having rain and rain — even a bit of hail earlier — and what passes around here for cold (but was miniskirt weather when I lived in Chicago).

I am not sad. February is not sundress season in the northern hemisphere. Also, I am currently knitting a beautiful sweater that I would Ike to wear within 8 months.

I wish I were a dedicated enough runner to run in the rain. I bet I will be someday, but I’m not yet.

Change to a liquid diet: as long as you swallow quietly

Misophonia! It is a thing, and I have it.

Eating noises, man. They make me want to scream words unbecoming of a lady. Or leave the room. Or possibly stab myself in the ear.

Chewing is SO BAD. Gulping is pretty awful too.

Worst of all is teeth meeting utensil. Why do people chew their forks? Stainless steel has no nutritional value!

WHY DO PEOPLE CHEW THEIR FORKS?

This is one reason why I like restaurants: they are loud enough to drown out the horrible and gross sounds of mastication. (Also: no dishes to wash.)

(Thanks, extinction, for making sure I never have to hear a mastodon masticate.)

On the other hand, I like crunchy snacks.