Looking through the pictures in my cell phone, I realize that I have a ton of random food shots that I never got around to posting. Either the picture didn’t come out too well or I didn’t really know what to write, but it still makes me a bit sad that I have all these undocumented eating memories. There are two particular pictures in my phone that I am quite fond of. It was a random Tuesday evening over the summer, I think, that a friend and I decided to check out one downtown restaurant’s utter bougieness and gorgeous view—and we were not disappointed.
we sat right up there in that protruding section-- looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows into the horizon (seriously, where Lake Michigan met the sky)
this is what we had for dessert-- and you can't get any bougier than beautiful, edible "dirt" (really, you can't-- haha)
There's just something about eating with a beautiful view. It's perfect for the sappy romantic. Not so perfect for the wallet or for the friend who gets dragged along. ;)
Eatery Info: Nomi Restaurant, 800 N Michigan Ave, Chicago, IL 60611
So I had a ton of meat yesterday: a hot dog, a few pieces of skirt steak, a chicken drumstick, and a piece of ham . . . and, honestly, it was just alright. I actually felt a little sick after eating it all. Maybe I'm just not used to it yet, but I've come to the initial conclusion that the best part of eating meat is having options. Other than that, "it's not that all." (<-- phrase coined by my fobbish but endearing aunt)
In other news, this weekend was very eventful. I don't think I really had any downtime, but I guess that's expected. The highlight of my weekend was probably Friday night when I decorated eggs and cookies with my godkids. Those brats tire me out, but gosh do I love them.
our carton of pretty easter eggs (one day, we're gonna be able to buy these in stores)
our chubby easter bunny cookie (don't hate-- there's just more to love)
my godson Tristin (in the striped shirt) with his best bud T.J. (who thinks sprinkle bottles are toys)
As Lent nears its end, here are some random thoughts:
- Apparently, I ate a lot more when meat was an option. Several coworkers have told me I lost weight. Weird considering my main form of sustenance has been carbs and cheese, but pretty nice as an added bonus.
- Not being able to eat hotdogs at a campfire last weekend broke my heart a little. The vegan hotdog I had two days after was a sad, but decent, consolation prize.
- It makes me feel so touched (and also so troublesome) when people cater to my meatlessness. I went to a dinner the other night and the hostess had set aside a bowl of spaghetti sauce with mushrooms (no ground beef) and a bowl of salad (no bacon bits) specifically for me. :\
- Tuna salad still hasn't grown on me all that much.
- Fresh mozzarella, tomato, and basil are still my favorite non-meat combination.
- Fresh fruit rocks. Especially grapefruit, strawberries, and grapes as of late.
- I plan on limiting my meat consumption in the future. But only after I fulfill all my cravings next week (ha).
- What is consumed is directly related to what is eliminated. *awkward, shifty eyes*
That is all. ;) Happy Easter.
That's what I've started thinking more and more since this weekend. I went to a church retreat (which was really awesome) and I pretty much ate bread and cheese, a pancake, bread and cheese, salad, bread and cheese, a bit of pasta, a mini cheese pizza, salad, and more bread and cheese. I couldn't really eat anything more than that, but I actually didn't mind the simplicity. And today, I have no feelings of hunger whatsoever. I can't be depressed, because that usually leads to food. And I can't be happy, because that usually leads to food too. So I must be indifferent. Could it be possible that I'm no longer in love with food? :\ Scary thought. It must just be an off day.
I'm not one to post twice in a day, but this was a special circumstance (a.k.a. my dearest friend who happens to have Gatorade as a client wanted me to put this up). This is only a test.
I was graced with the presence of JCK and JTK last night as we went out for some $5 pizza. We had goat cheese pizza, mushroom pizza, and cheese-covered tater tots—and it was all quite yummy (cheese galore!) and super cheap. I love food specials. I hear this place has pretty darn good burgers as well, so I’ll have to be all about that in two weeks.
I felt bad, though, that the boys didn’t get some kind of meat topping on at least one of the pies but, apparently, a lot of people can go without meat. Haha. That’s news to me because, normally, every meal I have will include some form of meat. But this past month has really trained me to live without it. Of course there’s that initial pain in my heart at not being able to eat some delicious form of protein, but then I get past it. Like this past weekend, we had lunch after church and they were serving Popeye’s chicken. I love Popeye’s, but I sucked it up and said to myself, “What? All I can eat are mashed potatoes and salad? Awesome!” (Then I stuffed my face with oatmeal cookies and chocolate cake to make myself feel better.)
So yeah. This lifestyle isn’t half bad—and I hope to continue exercising even moderate independence from the beloved animal after Easter. :]
Eatery Info: Beer Bistro, 1061 W Madison, Chicago, IL 60607
D came to have lunch with me today since she needed to run an errand downtown, and I thought it’d be cool if we went to this one yummy crepe place by my work. We had already talked about sharing a savory one and a dessert one, so we were quite excited. Ha. Sadly, the experience was absolutely not exciting. In fact, it was pretty appalling. It took forever to order, our waiter forgot that we even existed because he failed to acknowledge us the many times he passed by after, and we still hadn’t gotten our food after 35 minutes (which is absolutely unacceptable for lunch downtown). So, after some debate, D and I walked out. We felt a little bad about it—but we honestly don’t think they cared or even noticed. That was only the second time I've ever walked out of a restaurant, and for good reason.
The first time was . . . sometime in college when my two girlfriends and I were in NY for a weekend trip. We wanted to have a yummy Italian dinner one evening, so we walked around and settled on a restaurant in Midtown (big mistake right off). When we sat down and looked at the menu prices, you could see imaginary sweat dripping down our faces. The waiter had already poured us glasses of water and set out the bread basket . . . but after much contemplation, and while our waiter had his back to us, our broke college student selves ran out of there with a quickness and headed straight for a hot dog cart. *shrug* You gotta do what you gotta do.
