Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ahh, scandalous tart, you have outted my consumption! But pay mind to my complaints...not even the buttery love of said croissant could stave the desire to harp on its inherant flakeyness and ultimate messyness-ess.

Fresnel, I expect a full report on the overwhelming deliciousity of this recipe, should you survive it.

I know it's not a three ham omelette, but I suspect BookWhore is not unlike a brilliant hamologist but with Enchildas instead.

And we all know three hams will kill you.

Three hams!

Speaking of lovely meals...

Tonight, I went to Buenos Aires Cafe with my lovely amiga, S. Normally I go for lunch, but this time S. wanted to go because I have informed her of the completely hot Argentinian waiter that works there.

Dinner was supremely lovely, if not both refined and extremely quirky at the same time.

Buenos Aires Cafe is a tiny place with cream and apple green walls, detailed with a tan border. Neatly framed images of Argentian everyday life, and of its history are upon the walls. The feel is quaint, like a corner bistro, rather than a seedy downtown, southside hole in the wall...which is what you'd think the restaurant might be from outside observation.

Inside, the small dining area smells like fresh herbs and roasting meat, and two handsome waiters stand ready to seat patrons and take orders. The tables are decorated with black and white linen, and a single pink gerber daisy sits atop each table.

The waiter is extremely flirty and takes great pleasure in ensuring that we know he is aware we're giggling about him doing so. After a brief scan of our menus we order...I get the Pollo Al Horno con Verduras Salteadas, and S. orders the Milanesa con Papas. The waiter assures us our choices are good, and yet again, pointedly flirts with us. The smarm is so palpable that both S. and I are as pink as the daisy on the table. We can't stop laughing.

Much chatter ensues, until our plates are brought out. S. receives two russet colored cutlets of tender beef, in thin crisped crust accompanied by a timbale of Yukon Gold potatoes...and a fetchingly verdant pile of steamed broccoli with red pepper granish. Her plate looks simple, and perfect. Her smile tells me she approves. But I'm soon distracted by my own plate...

The waiter places my meal before me, and the scent alone tells me that something special is certainly in store for me. The breast of chicken is artfully sliced and fanned out onto the plate, and is perched atop a pool of a hearty chicken gravy, flecked with fresh herbs. Next to it, a melange of diced potatoes, carrots and sweet potatoes glisten enticingly.

I gingerly pick up a carrot with my fork and take my first bite. This lowly little carrot isn't what it appears...the sweetness of it echos on my palate, and mingles with the richness of the chicken gravy beneath. The combination is a surprise, and a pleasant one. I offer S. a taste immediately, I'm so pleased.

Naturally, I'm excited, in that foolish way that so often happens when food brings me back to that childlike wonder that's not unlike experiencing something for the first time. So, I turn my attention to the roasted chicken...something we all take for granted, if we eat any sort of meat at all.

There are days when I'll taste something and I know, instantaneously, as the first morsel passes my lips, that this sensation I'm feeling is part of the why people consume this dish...this type of food. Today was that day, and with, of all things a simple roasted chicken. The meat was delicate, and had been carefully brined, and then roasted. The skin had been removed, but all the flavor that would have been resident in it was in the meat itself. The savory jus surrounding the meat only served to enhance the meat...and not just swamp and overwhelm it.

And when I'm done, I can smile. I know that life's worth living...and all it took was a revelation from a simple meal.

I love to cook my best dishes are indian but I can cook any southern thing my Momma ever did.

Damnit. I wandered into the food thread when I can't afford to eat. >.<

Screw you guys!

XD I just have to survive til thursday, right? xp

Next thursday is payday.

Nope. Unless you want to give me a good Indian recipe. Something vegetarian. I'll totally look forward to making it next week.

I don't eat much or often as it is. It's all good. smile