Talked to Ian tonight! He says:
Mister: I met somepeople my age in my subject and we have beenhangingout
this is what conferences are about, really, i suspect
not the beingbored duringuseless talks
but rather meeting the other 20somethings and going drinking
which i did
its amusing to me howmuch other people are lightweights
three beers and you slur yourspeech_
bitch, puh-lease
heh
i am an elitist
I canhear radiohead playing faintly somewhere far away
Sent at 7:13 PM on Tuesday
*sniff! sniff!* So poetic! Don’t you miss him, too???
Incidentally, he added, later:
Mister: yesyesmy keyboardsucks
Mister: tell twelveyearold itlain turistastostop spillingcoconutnectaronthe keyboard
Anyway, there’s your Ian-Is-Adorable for tonight.
And speaking of people who are adorable, don’t you encourage me, MBG! You have no idea what the faintest whiff of interest does to a former English major. So, screw it, but, here’s day 3 of What Did Jessica Have For Dinner??? Anyway, I grilled tonight (meant to do it yesterday – Memorial Day! – but got lazy or something?), so I want to show it off. Porterhouse (meant to get a fillet mignon, both for smallness and for fanciness, but couldn’t find one, so instead I bought this thing:
which was roughly the size of my torso but nearly twice as delicious), black metal asparagus (accidentally – burned it all to heck), and grilled peaches with basil and honey and bleu cheese (Except, um…I was out of honey, so I used raw agave, and I was out of bleu cheese, so I used goat cheese. It wasn’t quite as good, but I still ate the shit out of it. I really can’t recommend peaches this way highly enough.).
I’m not a good enough photographer for this to count as “food porn,” but I am also not nearly modest enough to say that it doesn’t look fucking awesome, all the same.
Also, I managed to lock myself out of the house not once, but – and I swear to you this is not sarcasm – four fucking times during the making of this dinner. Somehow, astonishingly, I remembered to bring my keys with me not only the first time, but each time. But dude, I had an about-to-be-slightly-less-rare steak on the grill – I would have eaten that shit outside with my bare fingers and then worried about tearing open a window screen later.
Not to say mean things about Ian while he doesn’t have internet access or anything, but you know what? Sometimes? Eating your dinner in a novel location (I ate in our library, on a recently and unusually cleaned desk), very very slowly, with a book, all alone, is kind of fucking brilliant.
Erwin wanted some REAL BAD. He liked the goat cheese even more than the steak, though, in the end.
It wasn’t anywhere near as rare as I had intended it to be (I really had been aiming for like uncooked in the middle; I’ve been craving it for ages), but it was still pretty great.
I…may have licked the plate.
This totally counts as a food blog.
EDIT: I swear, I didn’t know that this was sitting on my counter when I cooked that last night!
It was wrapped in plastic with an ad for, like, Lucky or something covering the front picture. (If I HAD known, I totally would have tried the grilled avocado they recommend in there. YARG, that sounds fucking great.)
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