Saturday, June 5, 2010
Gimme that Fish
My roommates have every right to be annoyed with me for two reasons:
1. Filet-o-fish jingle.
I downloaded the damn filet-o-fish ringtone to my phone. Don't know what song I'm talking about? I will warn you, that song will be stuck in your head FOREVER.
I don't know what happened, but now my phone's possessed and this song is literally haunting me. Even when set to silent, that damn tune plays every time I hang up on a call, miss a call or get a text. If that's not creepy enough, I actually deleted the file from my phone and it's still playing. Have I fallen victim to Mcdonald's phone viral trap in an effort to brainwash me to get a filet-o-fish from the McDonald's next to my apartment? Yes, yes, I imagine they've spent millions trying to devise such a plan and you know what Mickey D's ? (Please note: sarcasm. I'm not actually that self-absorbed. I understand the world does not revolve around me.) Your plan is a fail. I think. Damn, maybe I do want a filet-o-fish. Damn marketing. It works.
2. Drunk Cooking at 4am
After barhopping in LES, I developed a case of the drunk munchies. Was I actually hungry? Probably not. As far as I could tell, drunk= necessity to eat unhealthy amounts of unhealthy food. I failed to find the bar I had just been at, failed to find my roommate James, couldn't remember why I had even stepped outside, so I cabbed it home with the slowest driver ever. I could have explored food options from my sketchy Brooklyn neighborhood, but no, no drunk cooking seemed like a fantastic idea and you know what? It was delicious! (not just because I was drunk) What did I make? I'm going to call it "Drunken Ragout," even though the only drunken thing about it was me.
-Loaf of bread, cubed (I used one my roommate made in culinary class)
-medium onion, cubed
-bacon, cut in pieces
-1/4 jar marinara sauce
What I did:
1. Heated oil
2. Cooked bread until crispy
3. Added bacon and cooked until crispy
4. Added onion until tender
5. mixed in tomato paste and marinera sauce
6. Ate massive amounts of it
Next day analysis: Not bad. Comforting- I mean it's fried bread and bacon. How could it not be comforting?
Why do I ultimately fail?
Battle wound on the left thumb. How did it happen? I cut my thumb when I was cutting onions. Perhaps, last night should be my last drunk cooking endeavor.