Moments are made every second, but rarely does one change the course of existence as we know it. Friday was one of those moments. When I got home from campus, Ale and I headed over to TI to go grocery shopping. We proceeded to her house to make our own custom sandwiches. We decided to go the panini route because we’re kick ass and that’s what kick ass people do. Roast beef was on sale at the deli counter so yeah I got some roast beef and made a grilled sandwich out of that bitch. I put some red onions, smoked gouda, and cilantro on it. I was so hungry and in my delusion I put exactly one butt load of cilantro on that thing. That was a mistake. Not a fatal one, but the cilantro that Ale gave me was fresh as fuck and tasted somethin’ sweet. Needless to say the sandwich was….strange. Had I not put so much cilantro on, the gouda would’ve been allowed to shine. Although the taste wasn’t amazing, I still count it as a success because I was breaking culinary barriers.
That evening, my dear friend Becca stopped by so of course I had to marvel her with my cooking abilities. I had bought a pork loin at the store and decided to bake it in the oven. I plopped it in a small casserole dish with salt, pepper, chopped garlic and a half stick of butter. I cooked it for almost 2 hours and basted that warlock and the result was a moist and delicious chunk of pork. I made some rice to go along and a salad. I whipped up some of my honey mustard vinaigrette for the salad and then thought, “Put some on the pork too? why the cluck not?”. The pork was near perfect and the entire meal itself was just about the same. I was satiated and pleased. Becca now knows of my prowess in the kitchen and will never forget her experience. Though those words were never spoken, I could see it in her face.
peace ‘n luv