I heard a rumor on the internet about Asian Food Midway offering bánh mì, so I decided to trek over today after work. It’s about a block away and normally I would bike, but I had a good feeling about trapping myself in some awkward situation so I walked instead. It’s actually quite chilly today with the wind.
It’s been too long, my friend
However, walking was good because I’m currently trying to break in my new jeans. Ten dollars of vintage-like goodness, these fifties-style dungarees. They’re about two sizes too small, but this particular brand tends to stretch out badly. But as I’m wearing them, I’m wondering if that was just true for their stretch jeans.
No bánh mì. NO BAHN MI. I was crushed. I was crushed furthermore when I walked outside and was immediately pelted by little balls of ice. They were opaque and white and reminded me of Dippin’ Dots. Dippin’ Dots used as a weapon, that is.
Sadly, hail does not come in chocolate or mint. It has only one flavor: Ozone.
Sadly, hail does not come in chocolate or mint. It has only one flavor: Ozone.
It hailed my entire walk back home and stopped right when I stepped into the backyard. What? I did return with two cans of basil seed drink, a package of firm tofu, and one box of Golden Curry, medium-hot. I love Japanese curry. It’s more like sodium-loaded spicy gravy than anything else, but by gum, I sure do love it with rice. Especially after being stoned by God.
Somehow, I ended up cooking enough for four instead of two. Two carrots, two small yellow onions, three small red potatos = I am bad at judging proportions. I’m really good at measuring just enough rice though. Oh well, pre-made lunch tomorrow!
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Comments (2)
Oh, man, Japanese curry. I used to love that stuff.
Mm, curry! Just remember, everything tastes better after being stoned by god.