You’d better have a good excuse, is all I’m saying.
This is probably the breakfast I’m making the next time we’re threatened with the fate of the dinosaurs. Except I would add a mountain of cheese and chase it with whiskey… But that’s not going to happen, so here we are. Let’s keep it reasonable and live for a few more decades, I s’pose.
This is an ode to Spring Forward. Please don’t hate me, but it needs to be defended.
You’re tired today. I’m tired today. Today blows. But let’s talk about tomorrow! Tomorrow, we (meaning I) will come home to full, not waning, sunlight. We’ll feel like it’s still Go Time. We won’t groan at the thought of going places, doing things and seeing people after work. TV will seem less and less appealing in the light of day. Instead, we’ll want to go on walks or even swim laps at the gym. On other days, we’ll feel like firing up the grill–on a weeknight, no less–and kicking back with a beer while we cook up dinner. Like this! Look at this.
Tri tip, smoked, grilled, and served alongside a lively, lemony herb sauce and a crusty potato-rosemary galette. Good heavens.
So, here’s a weird thing that happened. I’ve misplaced a bottle of hot sauce around here. I know I had it last Sunday morning, because I doused my eggs in its spicy, spicy splendor, as I often do. Since then, I just… I don’t know where it is. How does one lose something like a bottle of Valentina?
I would just buy another bottle. I’ve never had any qualms about dropping my hard-earned cash on hot sauce. If I had the fridge space, I’d have a straight-up collector’s collection of hot sauce. The thing is, I know I will find it someplace like my medicine cabinet, or the freezer, or that weird drawer in the kitchen where I keep hot glue gun refills and electrical tape.
I should go check all those places right now. I’ll be right back.
I know, I know–I’m titling this dish backwards. Potatoes and eggs are the building blocks of breakfast. The headliners.
Potatoes and eggs are Madonna. Kale and bacon are LMFAO and MIA and all those other things “the kids” like. But it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, and I have to catch someone’s attention, you know? We all know who the real deal is and who the supporting players are.
That doesn’t make sense. I won’t be attempting this analogy again.
Summer is not the potato’s time to shine. In the winter, it’s a comforting, starchy staple–but in the summertime, it gets to become fries, or it gets to go into gloppy potato salads to get schlepped along to barbecues and picnics. Fries are never a bad thing. But potato salads… Most of them remind me of glue, which I do not want to eat. Anymore. (HAHAHA, joking.)
This is yet another Moosewood recipe. Elevated potato salad, with lots of flavor, bright vegetables, herbs and yogurt. Pretty much any vegetable or herb you have on hand gets to come out and play.