posted by Allison (even if she forgot to say so)
Thanks, Jules, for the title inspiration! I’m not familiar with your Feist song, but I can dig on rhyming with counting.
So I have NOT been good about posting regularly. Sorry about that. Seeing as how it’s Sunday night, though, and I’m trying to squeeze in as much “weekend” as I possibly can in the twenty-four minutes before my workweek officially starts again? Now’s as good a time as any for a recap. I’ll tackle our last four days’ worth of tables, the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth—in part because I don’t want my titular rhyming to be completely superficial. Depth means it’s sincere, right?
Our Table No. Five was more hot dogs. The thing about hot dogs is that we like this one kind of hot dog bun the best (really, they’re just the best), and you can’t let ’em sit around too long or they’ll get tough. Three or four days is about the most we’ll wait in between hot dog dinner night, and this week was no exception: Tables Number Two and Five, both, met with hot dogs.
Our Table No. Six, which Beck already wrote about, was a nice low-key kind of Friday night of apperitifs at Pinhook and super tasty soup ‘n’ sandwiches from Toast. I have to say, I think I make a pretty good grilled cheese sandwich; the trick is medium-low heat to make sure the cheese is evenly melted and a slight mixture of butter (for flavor) and a nice fruity olive oil (for burn-resistance). I think pepper jack and sharp cheddar are fantastic on a jewish rye, and a slice of ripe tomato can do wonders for your lunch and, I’m almost positive, the betterment of the world at large. But Toast? Man, that’s a nice three-cheese they offer and their homemade soups make me want to stay home and perfect the art of italian bean with chard. They’re just great. Eating dinner at Toast makes me want to increase my abilities in the world of Soup, and that’s something I don’t say all too often.
Table No. Seven was enjoyed in two parts: breakfast and dinner. Weekend breakfast often has Beck and I eating at the table, and it’s usually too early to start watching television so we default to talking with one another (and trying to keep the cats out of our biscuits).We had a breakfast that we used to have all the time: cheesey bagels, veggie sausage, KK donuts and coffee; but this was the first time in probably a year or so. I think it stemmed originally from KK changing up their jelly donut (it’s still not as good as it used to be…), but eventually was more due to Beck switching to a more eggs-and-toast kind of routine and just getting tired of consuming a half a pound of sugar in a single meal. That, and I started getting pretty good at baking a from-scratch buttermilk biscuit. The dinner-half involved some experimentation, which was met with brimming forkfuls of tastiness. And also me unintentionally hacking at my thumb with a gigantic knife.
I was being a wanker about removing the pit from the avocado; that’s all. It did, however, afford me sitting out of doing the after-dinner dishes, and Beck lovingly offered to finish making the guacamole if I’d just tell her what to add. I forgot to mention the garlic, but it was pretty damn tasty even without it. Beck hopped on the Adventurous Bus and put together a version of sopa seca that, we hoped, would slightly resemble a tasty dish she likes to get (and I like to eat a couple bites of) from Margaret’s Cantina in Chapel Hill. The verdict was that, in terms of similarity? we probably don’t need to bake it, just broil it for a few minutes or so; but it turned out nicely. It was a little like eating bean dip casserole for dinner, but honestly? How could I possibly complain about that. MMM.
This Sunday night, being the second Sunday of Twenty-Eight Tables, we wanted some continuity from last Sunday’s Table of new recipe and fancy wine. We attempted a mock-up of the signature dish from pretty much our favorite place to eat in Asheville, NC, a happening little nook called Rosetta’s Kitchen: peanut butter-baked tofu, sauteed kale, and mashed potatoes. And I couldn’t let an opportunity pass to bake some biscuits (especially because I slept in late this morning and didn’t make ’em for breakfast). We cracked open a bottle of sparkling wine left over from our New Year’s Eve fun time party house and sat down to a lovely dinner. We got a chance to talk about some things we never had before, and one of the things I cherish the most about Beck is that I can spend an hour with her and still find new things. We’ve had approximately two thousand, one hundred, forty-eight conversations since we’ve met, and I’m still so humbled by what she has yet to teach me, or just tell me. Thanks 28 Tables.