I haven't written in a very long time. I've felt guilty. So many things happened, and so much grief was experienced last year; I said, "Fuck it," to denying myself any epicurian delight throughout the holidays. The holidays have given way to a sever backslide into the new year--but frankly, my delinquent behavior had been prevalent since the indulgences of summer. With all that, I hardly felt justified in writing a blog about a "recovering" wheat and dairy addict.
Well, not much has changed. But, now I am saying, "Fuck it," to my guilt. This is a diary after all!
I just got back from a pseudo-interview in Alaska visiting my new boyfriend and exploring the possibility of becoming his personal chef for the next few months. He's amazing, the natural beauty and surroundings of Alaska are amazing, the deal is amazing, and I was eating exactly how I should be and felt absolutely amazing--all of which made things infinitely harder when it came time to leave.
All I wanted to do was stay, but here I am. After 15 hours of travel yesterday and fitful sleep thereafter, I awoke with a start today due to arguing grandparents at home and Valentine's Day rush anxiety about work. There's no predicting what you could be walking into (with the restaurant, particularly)--especially when you've been away for two weeks! But, also, there are any number of variables that could make or break the flow of the evening. It just takes one bad egg... Anyway, I woke up back in my current reality, crumpled in pain from my guts and my back, and I hadn't even started work yet!
Upon entering the lion's den this afternoon, my tummy started growling, and what is better to eat while working than a sandwich. Next, I previewed the prix fixe menu for the evening: amuse buche of lobster bisque shots; romaine wedges with blue cheese and garlic croutons; entrees with potatoes au gratin cut into little crescent moons; and finishing the event with miniature eclairs made of chocolate pate choux, stuffed with chocolate mouse, drizzled with chocolate ganache, and dusted with gold. Also, for lunch one could have ordered the Valentine's Day trio, which included an angel food cake strewn with macerated strawberries, and D'afinois triple cream brie crustini topped with apricot and sweet pepper marmalade.
How am I possibly expected to resist this stuff, all full of it's wheat and dairy goodness! If I don't eat it; first of all, I have to check my product, and secondly, the left over's will go to waste--and that would be bad. And now we're back to guilt again.
I gotta get out of this place!
Well, not much has changed. But, now I am saying, "Fuck it," to my guilt. This is a diary after all!
I just got back from a pseudo-interview in Alaska visiting my new boyfriend and exploring the possibility of becoming his personal chef for the next few months. He's amazing, the natural beauty and surroundings of Alaska are amazing, the deal is amazing, and I was eating exactly how I should be and felt absolutely amazing--all of which made things infinitely harder when it came time to leave.
All I wanted to do was stay, but here I am. After 15 hours of travel yesterday and fitful sleep thereafter, I awoke with a start today due to arguing grandparents at home and Valentine's Day rush anxiety about work. There's no predicting what you could be walking into (with the restaurant, particularly)--especially when you've been away for two weeks! But, also, there are any number of variables that could make or break the flow of the evening. It just takes one bad egg... Anyway, I woke up back in my current reality, crumpled in pain from my guts and my back, and I hadn't even started work yet!
Upon entering the lion's den this afternoon, my tummy started growling, and what is better to eat while working than a sandwich. Next, I previewed the prix fixe menu for the evening: amuse buche of lobster bisque shots; romaine wedges with blue cheese and garlic croutons; entrees with potatoes au gratin cut into little crescent moons; and finishing the event with miniature eclairs made of chocolate pate choux, stuffed with chocolate mouse, drizzled with chocolate ganache, and dusted with gold. Also, for lunch one could have ordered the Valentine's Day trio, which included an angel food cake strewn with macerated strawberries, and D'afinois triple cream brie crustini topped with apricot and sweet pepper marmalade.
How am I possibly expected to resist this stuff, all full of it's wheat and dairy goodness! If I don't eat it; first of all, I have to check my product, and secondly, the left over's will go to waste--and that would be bad. And now we're back to guilt again.
I gotta get out of this place!
No comments:
Post a Comment