But somehow the one package they’re all going to end up in is my stomach. There’s been a lot — and I mean A LOT — of intense eating going on over here. Maybe it’s the arrival of Spring and everyone’s coming out of hiding. Maybe we’re just really hungry. Whatever it is, it looks good.
Martha Stewart ain’t got nuthin’ on Allan. It’s like he was born frosting cupcakes.
Dinner at Brian’s looks like
Spring on a plate.
Any workplace that has “Eggstravaganza” themed lunches is the right place for me.
I really couldn’t help myself today. It was the sun blinding the sense out of me. It told me that I needed 5.65lbs of slab bacon for five months of bucatini all’amatriciana. And I concurred.
This is the freezer of a person with a serious eating disorder. We’ve got the 5.65lbs of slab bacon, broken down into four slightly more manageable porcine chunks. There’s the portion of pork belly I picked up today as well (Tamarack Hollow Farms loves me right now), the best English muffins (Bays), Daisy’s sourdough from Clear Flour (the best bakery in the Boston area), plus five different kinds of ice cream (Ronnybrook butter pecan, Toscanini’s banana sorbet and basil ice cream, handcarried from Boston) — two of which I made (cinnamon and Guinness, both from Sunday Suppers at Lucques). Those are totally not my frozen waffles, by the way. Not pictured: kimchi dumplings.
Mom, you’re the bestest. Clementines and kumquats from Uncle Jack’s backyard in Pomona. This is when I desperately wish I lived in California. Also because it’s still sub-70 degrees here. It’s May, fer chrissakes.