Essen
When is a mushroom not a mushroom anymore?
When it's been simmering in balsamic for almost an hour--just enough time to let the vinegar turn to glaze--and swirled with a little uns. butter right before serving. That's when it's not a mushroom anymore; it's become a completely different ingredient-al entity. I walked down the hall from the kitchen towards my room balancing the plate and glass of water, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I reached for a quarter of mush and popped it into my mouth. Sure, my fingers were a little black now, but the flavor just burst upon bite and it reminded me of why I play with fire and water in the kitchen when the other students are out at "Fun Park" for free beer night.
Roasted tomatoes [Foil and Oil, right Starchef?], roasted chicken [same mantra], the balsamic mush, and topped with a (say it Brian) poached egg.
I spoke--auf Deutsch--to the girl making her dinner in the kitchen at the same time:
"Zu Hause habe ich alles, dass ich brauche. Hier....also...heir habe ich--"
"Nothing?" she interrupted.
"Well, ja, nichts...ich wollte ein bisschen sagen...aber, ja, nichts!"
I mean, it's not really that bad. I really can't wait to get home though...honestly, I wish Gina was coming here--then we could spend time together exploring Marburg and I could show her what it's like living abroad, buying groceries, speaking to shopkeepers, postal workers, professor, etc. Then I'd have everything...well, except for Bailey Booler. So, yeah, scratch that good idea and throw it in the "bad" pile. I'm coming home in three days, Daggums.
One step closer to knowing....to knowing....
-BW
When it's been simmering in balsamic for almost an hour--just enough time to let the vinegar turn to glaze--and swirled with a little uns. butter right before serving. That's when it's not a mushroom anymore; it's become a completely different ingredient-al entity. I walked down the hall from the kitchen towards my room balancing the plate and glass of water, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I reached for a quarter of mush and popped it into my mouth. Sure, my fingers were a little black now, but the flavor just burst upon bite and it reminded me of why I play with fire and water in the kitchen when the other students are out at "Fun Park" for free beer night.
Roasted tomatoes [Foil and Oil, right Starchef?], roasted chicken [same mantra], the balsamic mush, and topped with a (say it Brian) poached egg.
I spoke--auf Deutsch--to the girl making her dinner in the kitchen at the same time:
"Zu Hause habe ich alles, dass ich brauche. Hier....also...heir habe ich--"
"Nothing?" she interrupted.
"Well, ja, nichts...ich wollte ein bisschen sagen...aber, ja, nichts!"
I mean, it's not really that bad. I really can't wait to get home though...honestly, I wish Gina was coming here--then we could spend time together exploring Marburg and I could show her what it's like living abroad, buying groceries, speaking to shopkeepers, postal workers, professor, etc. Then I'd have everything...well, except for Bailey Booler. So, yeah, scratch that good idea and throw it in the "bad" pile. I'm coming home in three days, Daggums.
One step closer to knowing....to knowing....
-BW
posted by bwremington at
12:30 PM
1 Comments:
sorry we couldnt talk today-- it's frustrating sometimes that I haven't had a great conversation with you in a while... but I will make time and watch the clock better tomorrow. And keep that mushroom idea- poached eggs and all- because you are gonna be grillin when you get back, mister! Love you...
By
Anonymous, at 7:19 PM, August 16, 2006
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