A proper breakfast.

It turned out to be a bit of a hot one today.  They were calling for 32°C,  and I’m pretty sure we made it.  By about three or so, we finally gave in and I turned on the air conditioning.  *so happy to have it* 

Can’t imagine how badly that would suck if we didn’t have air in this place.  As it was it was up to 28 in here before we had had enough.  I don’t know why we sometimes think we can just “handle it”,  or that it’s somehow mysteriously going to get cool all of a sudden?  Never happens.  We start to swelter,  and then we have this *epiphany*,  and realise that just maybe we should turn on the air conditioning.  Oy.  Sharp as tacks I tell ya.

Travelling Companion wasn’t quite up to doing any shopping today. 

I was crestfallen.

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Damn,  how do I get that “sarcastic font” to work again? 

 

And yes,  we did have a proper breakfast.  Now I’ll admit,  that depends on your definition of “proper”,  since most mornings during the week,  I’m OK with a little container of yogurt,  or maybe a couple pieces of toast,  but on the weekends we like to have eggs.  Like that’s “proper”.   The thing is,  I’ve tried to get fried eggs “easy over”  on occasion when we’re at some sort of eating establishment,  but it just never seems to work out. 

Last Sunday morning,  when we were having breakfast at the Mytton and Mermaid,  I thought maybe I was going to get lucky when we were treated to table service (as opposed to the usual buffet style offerings of powdered scrambled eggs and well,  stuff that’s been sitting out too long),  especially since the young lad seemed to be writing down an awful lot of instructions when I asked for my “over easy” eggs.  Apparently he was taking notes for something else,  since my eggs arrived “sunny side up”.  They weren’t entirely snotty,  so I just ate the damned things and didn’t complain.   Besides,  I had seen the eggs being delivered the previous afternoon,  so at least they were fresh.

I should have taken a picture this morning since,  as I normally do, I was able to cook three eggs for me and two for T.C.,  all of which were “over easy”,  with no broken yolks,  nor were they cooked to oblivion.  Why can I do this and people who make their living cooking stuff can’t seem to do it? 

And no,  I don’t want a job as a cook either.  Did enough of that cr*p back in the days of working in restaurants.  No thanks.

This is just another reason why,  when it comes right down to it,  I’d rather stay home.  Do my own cooking, thanks.

At least breakfast was included at the Mytton and Mermaid.  (no idea why they see fit to use the “y”,  it’s pronounced “mitten”,  like those woolly things you shove on your hands)

The previous place we stayed at in Birmingham charged an extra six quid for breakfast.  Each.  And well, it wasn’t anything spectacular.   The staff were pleasant in each of the two places,  so at least that’s some consolation.  I mean,  if you’re going to rip me off,  I suppose it’s a lot better if you’re nice to me.

 

 

Now,  speaking of cooking,  and since I have damned little else,  I’ll “entertain” you with a mindless minute of meatballs. 

 

 

 

What is the thought process that prompts a person to take a recording of browning meatballs?   Really.  We should do a study.

Or maybe we shouldn’t.

 

Had some ageing veggies in the fridge,  so I figured it was as good a time as any to have a pasta night. 

You’re probably wondering now,  “Wait a minute there Bob,  if T.C.  has some blood sugar issues,  should you be stuffing pasta into her?”

Well,  let me ‘splain.

Yes,  I realise that pasta is more or less a no-no due to the high amount of carbs.  I’m ignoring those with Celiac Disease here I realise,  but just let me finish.  Sorry.  Besides,  that’s a different kettle of fish.

The thing is,  and this applies to cooking ALL pasta,  DON’T COOK IT TO DEATH!   That’s all.   It should be cooked “Al dente”,  which basically means taking it off just at that moment when you think it’s really not quite cooked.

And here’s why.  If your pasta is cooked “Al dente”  (no relation to Al Bossence by the way) it then takes that much longer for your system to digest it,  therefore mitigating the whollop from the carbs (sugar).   No spike in carb intake,  no spike in numbers.  Something like that,  but it seems to have worked so far.  I’m a little fuzzy on the details,  and I don’t really “know” about these things,  I just go by what the doctor says.  Only click that link if your German is top notch. 

That doesn’t mean you get to have pasta every single day.  That would be bad…for both of us.  The carbs would go directly to my midsection,  and Travelling Companion would be getting a stern talking to at her next “consultation”.   You know,  when they take your blood,  and can then tell what kind of mischief you’ve been up to?  That kind of “consultation”.

Here’s more mindless drivel:

Just in case there was some doubt as to the outcome.  Didn’t plan it,  but there ended up being 30 meatballs,  none of which rolled out the door.  Which meant 15 went in the freezer for one of those times when I’m too damned lazy to cook up some new ones.

Yup. Just a meatball makin’ machine.

 

They’re in there.  Trust me.  Along with half the contents of the veggie drawer.  Hey,  I’m not about to toss out veggies just because they’re eyeing their pension plan.  C’mon.

 

And….

Oh wait.   Forgot the beer.

 

There ya go.  That’ll put you to sleep.  Well,  it’s working on me anyway.

 

Hope your day was just slightly more exciting.

Oh,  and you’ll note that there was not one reference to “retarded people”.  Well,  except for yours truly of course. 

 

Thanks for coming by.

 

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