Shamrock gratification

Two bagels with a flavored cream cheese came unexpectedly into my lap at the office. I ate them like a greedy goose going for great gains.

Lunch was a bin of the garlicky kale from earlier this week, with about a breast's worth of chicken fancaise, and some roasted potatoes. I also had two of those fruit-flavored gumdrop-type candies at my desk. They're just there.

After work, I stopped by McDonald's to pick up the goods for Jenna. She needed some instantaneous gratification -- none of this waiting around for me to whip up something at home. So, I had a $1 shamrock shake, and a Filet O'Fish sandwich, and a large order of fries. McDo's seems to be promoting their fish sandwiches -- for the Lenten season? Washed down with a diet cola. And a small bite of her Angus burger. What? I also had two more bagels, with plain cream cheese. Impulsive, embarrassing. Finally, two spoonfuls of Breyer's vanilla ice cream.

Leftovers for lunch, Longhorn later

After skipping breakfast -- knowing all the while that this is not a good way to start the day off good -- I had lunch at 11 at my desk, a binful of last night's leftovers: a strip of broiled steak, a serving of braised carrots, and two or three cups of that warmed pasta with Parmesan and peas. Water from my tin bottle.

Then Jenna arrived to campus, clamoring (agreeably enough) for companionship during HER lunchbreak. So off to the GSU, where I watched her eat a Subway sammich. When she wasn't watching, I had a bite of it. Also a bag of cheddary Sun Chips, and half of a Mrs. Field's chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich, and some swigs from a bottle of cherry-flavored Coke Zero.

After work, we walked over to Longhorn Steakhouse with Ryne. I had an 8 oz NY strip, with seasonal vegetables swimming in thin butter, and a Caesar salad. When a salad is overdressed, let's start saying that it "wore tux and tails to the backyard barbecue." I know the red meat is fortifying, but I really do not enjoy the facts of its origin. I drank diet Coke, and had two slices of the complimentary wheat bread (full disclosure: it was heavily buttered).

When I picked up Jenna from Panera later, I had a few bites of her citrus chicken. She observed to Ryne that she is weary of having to eat faster and faster, lest the wolves descend. (In this scenario, we, Ryne and I, are the wolves.)

I had a few baby carrots before bed.

Steak, pasta, Panda bowl

Lunch was a bowl of chicken-flavor ramen which I found hiding in the office cupboard. I enhanced this with one-third of a bell pepper, diced, which was in the fridge. I swiped this from the GSU one day, feeling righteous affront in the face of Dining Services' wasteful habit of using bins of fresh vegetables as decoration. Hot water from the Keurig, and half a sachet each of mustard and ketchup. Really, really horrible.

Then Ryne came by and said, let's get lunch. Not wanting him to go without a peer, I joined him at a table in the GSU. I had a "Panda Bowl" from Panda Express: a scoop of vegetables topped with a scoop of sickly-sweet "orange chicken."

Over the course of the day, perhaps 8 Hershey's miniatures.

Dinner: a slice of wheat bread with oleo; 2/5s of a steak, broiled in the oven, with a small amount of fresh chopped onion, salt and pepper, and olive oil for flavor. A helping of braised "baby" carrots (butter and brown sugar). About one-and-a-half servings of pasta, cooked whole-wheat noodles with fresh grated parmesan, canned peas, and a small amount of spicy brown mustard and mayonnaise. With, yes, a tall glass of Keurig-made iced tea. 

Sunday: brunch, coffee shop, late-night dinner

Brunch with the Dees at T. W. Food, which Jenna thought we should go to after seeing it reviewed favorably in that digest of gustatory quality, the Metro, Boston edition. I understand the restaurant has gotten press elsewhere, but really, once you're in the Number One Daily Free Paper in Boston, the light of attention from other outlets is simply wan, dimmer.

After sampling from the bread platter -- a chocolate-pecan scone, a muffin of some bran-apple variety I think, and two pieces of oaty bread, each with butter, and some with cranberry compote -- I ordered the feuillantine of leeks with slow-poached eggs and black trumpet mushroom cream. My "Crimson Haiku" cocktail was sake with sharp ginger beer and hibiscus syrup. I also had a bite of J.'s goat cheese omelette, and complained that I do not have a nice pan for making nice omelettes.

After brunch I stopped by Starbuck's for an hour of writing, or rather, of staring out the window. There I had a mocha frappuchino and a slide of reduced-fat banana chocolate chip coffee cake. Nothing at the movies; I'm trying to stick by my sense that concessions shorten one's lifespan and greasen one's fingers. Both unacceptable consequences.

Dinner at home, round about midnight, was a kind of chicken francaise. I boned and skinned thighs, and cut the meat into two-bites-and-it's-gone-sized chunks. After a dunk in flour, they went into a dip of whole eggs beaten when tangy mustard. Cooked on the stovetop in butter, seasoned with salt, pepper, lemon juice, and dried basil, and then after being flipped, finished with two minutes of poaching in a splash of blush wine. The batter worked excellently -- eggy, rich, buttery, and holding its form. I was just really happy with it, after a long day of doing laundry and cleaning cat mess. Sides were roasted potatoes -- olive oil, salt and pepper -- and sauteed kale (boiled for ten minutes, then cooked quickly with a little olive oil and garlic powder). Washed it all down with Keurig iced tea, our new innovation: four cups of warm tea in the pitcher with Splenda, lemon juice (sad, that we used the fake kind in the plastic squeeze, when I HAD lemon in the pantry), and ice. We went with green tea, peppermint tea, and two doses of English breakfast. Refreshing.

Before the meal, we made quesadillas for starveling J: corn tortillas, in oleo on the stovetop, with diced tomato, cumin, olive oil, and shredded cheddar.