Breakfast

It’s the most important meal of the day, folks.  My usual is Bob’s Red Mill whole oats, prunes and a generous dollop of peanut butter.  It is a great start to an action-packed day, like I will have today, when I complete the trifecta at the posh club. I’m currently trying to beat the state octogenarian speed record in the haphazard swim stroke event.

Last week the wife and I went to breakfast at Toast in Town, a new, and as far as I know, only entry in the Foster City breakfast scene. It seemed a tad pricey, but I guess they gotta be able to pay their rent and make a profit. I got eggs, bacon and pancakes for $22.  It was very good, as was my wife’s omelet. I have another breakfast outing with TCG and #1 at San Carlos’ Broiler Express, which #1 describes as the quintessential greasy spoon.  He didn’t actually use the adjective quintessential, as big words are hard for him, but that is what he meant.

Dinner is also an important meal.  I get the night off tonight, as the wife is putting together this masterpiece.  She used SB1 and LGMG as test subjects when she was in DC, and she said all went well. You can find it in the NYT. It is one of 280 that we have saved, whereas we’ve actually cooked about 20. She will also be putting together a few dishes for our Thanksgiving dinner, graciously hosted by Barbie and #1. If I’m lucky I’ll walk away with some leftovers, making this an easy week in the kitchen.

Shall we talk about politics? Headlines and podcasts tell me Trump is in trouble, but the umber dastard still seems to be running the show, with the craven Republicans following along, except for MTG, whose resignation date ensures she gets her pension. His press secretary dismissed his “Quiet piggy” moment as frankness. How far wrapped around the axle do you have to be to come up with that one? I saw this headline and felt like telling him his Oval Office mantle does not count. 

OK, time for lunch, yet another important meal. I’ll be cranking up the soundtrack to The Harder They Come.

RIP Jimmy Cliff