A Tale of Two Yolks

You know that Italian hash I make? So the yolk is technically supposed to remain intact. I never managed it, ever, and was frankly thoroughly puzzled as to how one could even achieve a non-broken yolk when dealing with fried bread.

Success! Unbroken yolk!

But then a miracle happened!

OK, it wasn't a miracle. I just figured out that to not break the yolk you needed to make a little well in the middle of the fried bread, hot pepper and cheese and put the egg in there. Then you had to be very, very careful about flipping the entire concoction (yes, it requires flipping).

Failure. Broken yolk and sheepy cheese.

And this was how I managed to not break the yolk for the first time ever. Big round of applause for me!

I was so impressed with myself that I then decided to demonstrate my new mad non-egg-yolk-breaking-skillz to Spousal Unit. Unfortunately, I managed to break the yolk in the bowl before even dropping it into the pan. (Yes, I always crack eggs in a bowl first. This way I can check whether they're fertilized or bad. Yes I do realize this is somewhat crazy.)

Spousal Unit looked at the broken egg and asked me exactly what I wanted to show him. I lied and told him that I wanted to show him how if you mix Crotonese cheese with the Parmigiano it gets even gooier and tastier. And then Spousal Unit said that he didn't like sheep's milk cheese and that was the end of that.

O Xmas Bleuch! O Xmas Bleuch!

That's some strong coffee!

O Xmas Bleuch! O Xmas Bleuch!
That's some crazy-ass caffee-ine;
O Xmas Bleuch! O Xmas Bleuch!
That's some crazy-ass caffee-ine;
Not only strong in Espresso roast,
But in VIA form it packs the most.
O Xmas Bleuch! O Xmas Bleuch!
That's some crazy-ass caffee-ine!

 O Xmas Bleuch! O Xmas Bleuch!
Much jitters thou has given me;
O Xmas Bleuch! O Xmas Bleuch!
Much jitters thou has given me;
How often has my heart raced
After consuming you at a fast pace!
O Xmas Bleuch! O Xmas Bleuch!
Much jitters thou hast given me.

Soup for Breakfast

Yeah, you read right: soup for breakfast.

If you can have cereal for supper, you can have soup for breakfast.

Culturally-insensitive mug, meet your soup bowl counterpart.

Do you need backstory? Fine. We all woke up Sunday morning to no eggs, no bread and no OJ. It wasn't like it was a surprise: we had seen this coming for a week. Spousal Unit had a plan to go out and buy us breakfast. So off he went, forgetting that the time change would make The Toddler and me ravenous by 10am. The Toddler is happy having Cheerios at every meal, so there was no problem there. The problem was me.

All I wanted was hot soup because I had this nasty-ass cold that had decided to squat in my upper respiratory tract. We had leftover matzoh ball and kreplach soup (in chicken broth, natch) in the fridge. I warmed it up and the kreplach expanded to about 12 times their normal size.

At this point I should ask: do you know what kreplach is? Don't bother answering because I can't hear you. Also I am typing this in the past. Anyways, kreplach are dumplings filled with stuff, in this case mystery meat. We got them from the deli down the street because we're not really a dumpling-making family.

I ate the broth, the half-matzoh ball that was left and the two kreplach, then I washed it all down with an espresso because I didn't need a caffeine-withdrawal headache to amplify the sinus headache I already had.

By the time Spousal Unit got back with the breakfast sandwiches (sadly not Egg McMuffins), neither I nor The Toddler were hungry. Spousal Unit ate alone.

Chicken without Soup

Having a cold sucks.

After working from home, the cold had seemed to get better. Then I had a colossal lack of judgement and decided to go trick or treating in the cold rain with The Toddler. The next morning I woke up with a cough. The day after that I woke up with a cough and blocked sinuses. I felt like I had been run over by a truck. I elected to take a sick day.

Solid Gold

I did not have the energy to make soup. I went scavenging in the fridge and found some leftover oven-fried chicken. It wasn't soup, but it was chicken, so that counted for something. I reheated it and ate it on the sofa while watching some daytime talk show where they explained how to use the "exciting fall fashions" to hide "problem areas".

Minty Mouse

I drank so much mint tea, it wasn't even funny. My sweat had turned minty fresh. Even my coffee tasted minty fresh. The KitKat I stole from The Toddler's Hallowe'en stash was lovely, however.

I Need to Do Groceries: Stale Wafers

Even mushier when dunked in coffee.

I desperately wanted some dessert. I was working from home with a cold. I was going to have some coffee and a I really desperately wanted something sweet to go with it.


I looked in the pantry and found an open pack of Loacker chocolate wafers with exactly two wafers left in them. I had no idea how long they had been there, forget about how long they'd been open. I was desperate, so I had them.

They weren't just stale, they were hellastale. There was no crispness left in them whatsoever. They bent rather than snapped. But at least they were dessert. Plus, once you dunk them in coffee, it doesn't make much of a difference.

At least they reminded me that I should put them on the list for the next grocery run.