I’m no textpert, but I think this is poor form.

 

Last week I was out at the coast with Derrick’s family.  We had a great time, but I missed my 20-year high school reunion in the process.  I didn’t mind missing it, mainly because a) I can keep in touch with a lot of people through facebook, and b) I am not quite as skinny, beautiful, and rich as I’d planned to be by my 20th.   (I will not tell you which reason carried more weight.  Pun intended.) However, when the night of the reunion came and I wasn’t there, I was suddenly sorry that I wasn’t going to see my old friends.  I sent my sister a text, hoping she could cheer me up.  It went something like this:

Me:  “I am really bummed I missed the reunion.  Not another one for ten years!  Make me feel okay that I missed it.”

Sis:  “It’s okay.  You can go to your 30-year.  You’ll probably be a lot skinnier by then.”

Me:  “That was mean.”

I don’t think Jamy deserves any more texts from me, but I’m going to send her one last one to tell her she’s Too Big For Her Britches.  Pun intended–especially now that she’s four months along.

Bring it on, preggo.  Bring it on.

 

Best Food Weekend. Ever.

 

I won’t bore you with details. Just know that Derrick and I took a quick jaunt to Portland this last weekend to celebrate his partner’s retirement and, evidently, to stuff our faces. We stumbled upon Alberta Street, which is an artsy Portland neighborhood we’ve somehow missed all these years. It would seem that Alberta Street’s sole purpose in life is to feed its visitors well. It does.  It did.  Oh, my three faithfuls, it did.

Friday night started with killer Drunken Noodles and Sexy Beef: ginger, scallions, coconut milk, red peppers…need I say more?  We have a big thing for Thai food.

We followed this “light” meal (all Asian food is practically diet, right?) with a shared Chocolat crepe here:

Think handmade nutella, hazelnuts, and cinnamon ice cream over a crepe so gooey and crispy, it could almost pass for an elephant ear.  In a good way.  Diabolically delicious.

We were also lucky enough to meet Suzette, face to face.  He seemed really nice.

We woke up the next morning to a huge breakfast at the hotel.  Think Belgian waffles, scrambled eggs, and a big white crusty bagel that would make Dr. Atkins very, very sad.  We shopped a little then quite naturally decided we were hungry for lunch.  We hopped back over to Alberta Street to try out a taqueria that had caught our eye the night before.

Think chile rellenos, fish tacos, tamales, beans, rice, chips, pico de gallo, and guacamole.

Yeah, we ate all that.  With no regret.  I am a Mexican food psycho and let me tell you, this was about the best I’ve ever had.  Think salt and fat, with just enough fresh veggies thrown in to make it respectable.

Approximately four hours after this sumptuous lunch, we reported to our good friends’ place for a barbeque to rock all barbeques.  The lovely hostess, Lisa, has a gorgeous home, great taste in food, and knows how to treat her guests.  I anticipate her gatherings like a child does a birthday party.  She’s that good.

As usual, I did not have my camera with me, and even if I had, did I really want other adults watching me take pictures of the food?  People might start to think I don’t get out much.  I found a few photos online to represent the fare we savored.  This wasn’t hamburger and hotdogville, if you know what I’m saying.  Think tri-tip, pork loin, and the like.  Think fresh fruit and yummy cheeses and breads and crackers a myriad of desserts to choose from.  Think me, happy, and still somehow not too full to down another meal.

And you may think baked beans aren’t anything to blog about, but that’s because you’ve never had Lisa’s.

I have decided that if I behave myself in this life, I will wake up in the next doing the butterfly stroke in a bowl of Lisa’s baked beans.  (I chose the butterfly because you have to open your mouth really wide when you’re above the water.  But I digress.)

At about nine o’clock, we tore ourselves away from the dessert table and started the three-hour drive home.  It should have been a chore, but we were still glowing (sweating) from our recent foodie adventures.

I did wake up this morning feeling a little stuffed from our weekend of eating, so I decided to lighten things up with baked ravioli and homemade bread for dinner.  A carton of Tillamook Mudslide is softening as I write this, and I think it will be an appropriate end to my weekend.

I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get ready for bed.  I’m meeting my friends at 6:30 for our standard early morning run.  I still enjoy running, but am a little frustrated that I don’t seem to be losing any weight from it.

Any suggestions?