assault of gastronomical proportions

Today is Tuesday morning.

Monday.
Sunday.
Saturday.
Friday.
not Thursday.
Wednesday.

nearly 5 consecutive days of gorging. and i'm nauseated.
wait.

Thursday, too. 6 days of gorging.

i'm sick of it. and yet, i know that this will happen all over again. in about 2 days.
there are only a few ways to stop the nonstop eating fest our society embraces.

1. disown all social networking
2. burn every social bridge to the point of no return
3. become atheist (thereby eliminating holiday-themed consumption)
4. voluntary exile from civilization
5. become famous thereby giving you the power to
a. hire a loyal entourage that will confiscate snacks
during moments of weakness
b. incorporate a dietician, trainer, and life motivator into
said entourage
c. get your agent and entertainment lawyer to draw up
dietary clauses in all contracts
d. take your mind off food because you're too busy acting
in a blockbuster for 20 million dollars


for you sick curious folks out there, let me trench you through the past week.
only if you dare.

Monday.

We start off the morning with dense pastries from La Boulange in Cole Valley.
Then cross the Bay to have lunch at Berkeley's Rick & Ann's. I polish off my plate of eggs, cornmeal pancakes, sausages, and tomatillo sauce. Washed it down with a pint of orange juice.
Drive into Napa.
Pit stop at Yountville.
Bouchon Bakery fest, filled with TKOs, macarons, and more dense pastries.
Then tasting at Frog's Leap. With a plate of cheeses, crackers, nuts, and dried fruit. 4 generous glasses of wines. Their merlot is beautiful.
More tasting at Milat. Chenin Blanc was shockingly amazing. Chocolate port. Yums.
Ended up at Castello di Amorosa with more tasting of course. We sipped through 10 different wines. with breadsticks. Rose was decent.
Drive back to Berkeley at 90% mental facility.
More dinner at Asian Ghetto. Topping it all off with a milk tea filled with mini boba balls.

Sunday

enjoyed a salad with macaroni salad, thereby canceling out any possible benefits of the actual salad.
then frozen yogurt with deep fried mozzarella sticks, corn dog poppers.
then enjoyed a homemade banana cream trifle.
ending with a heaping bowl of black bean noodles, fried sweet glazed beef, stuffed pig intestines.

Saturday

attended a full day of SF Chefs. Food. Wine event. Meaning, I started eating at 10am and didn't stop until 11pm as I danced and drank with Chef Hubert Keller spinning eurotechno music on stage.
I do not know what I ate. All I know is I walked the perimeter of the tasting tent at least 10 times and stopping in the middle of the test to fill my trough with a bevvy of alcoholic bevies.

Friday

was the same as Saturday. Or Saturday was the same as Friday.

Thursday

lunch with a friend downtown. I had a pound & a half of food. Then made a meal out of three different art exhibition openings that evening.

Wednesday

brunch at Zazies. Then pizza at Arizmendi. Then pizza at Delfina's. Wine. more food than I can recall.


my stomach is weary. my heart is weak.
my mind is flurried. and body is wreaked.



i need time of refreshing. and of rest.
to flush down my worries
and put my mind to test.

insomni-egg

i can't sleep.

the stench of nulaid reddi egg is hanging so thick in our small 3-br 2nd floor flat atmosphere, i'm absorbing the calories in a burnt spinach omelet via simple inhalation of this cholesterol free, fat free freak of a product that'd make any hen harakiri upon witnessing what these sickos are doing to her eggs.

my philosophy? if you don't want fat, don't want cholesterol, don't want sugar, don't want salt coursing through your veins, don't eat.

i detest the American mentality of you can have your sugar-free cake, and eat it too!
it negates the whole purpose of living healthily, wealthily, and wisely.
one is simply using modern science and technology to cheat the body and brain to fulfill the satiation of their forked tongue.

excuse my tangential rant. back to reddi egg stench.


a summer subletter of ours makes these revolting "omelets" for every meal. he's on some insane biggest loser program but he's as skinny as can be at the moment, having already lost over a hundred pounds within five months. the irony of it all is, he's not right in the head yet he's studying neurobiology. go figure.

i don't understand a person that can make as many fauxmelets as he does and still not understand that putting the oven temperature on high without oil in the pan and pouring this fat free cholesterol free sludge will immediately adhere to the pan and burn.

let me tell you, there's nothing more unappetizing than the revolting scent of burnt eggs. in this case...burnt liquid chicken shat. it really convicts me to stand up and punch the face of the offender.

yet into the already burnt liquid, he continues to toss fistfuls of spinach, mushrooms, alfalfa sprouts. no salt. no nothing. then proceeds to scrape it around and dumps fat free yogurt on top of this disgusting slop as a finale.

my stomach is curling.

at least turn on the fan, mofo. but no, he does no such thing. ever. and how important is it to make this at midnight? people like him should have a restraining order from kitchens.

i need to wash my hair again. and stuff towels underneath my door. and buy a gas mask.