Does that ever happen to anyone else? I made Real Simple magazine’s grilled potato and onion salad and it was delicious. Just as simple as they promised, too, and a nice way to christen The Other Eater’s birthday gift, a mesh grill pan. However, I think I need a dinner stylist. Because while dinner was delightful, it didn’t look so good:
I hope my art won’t stop you from trying the potato salad, though. It’s a good find.
Sunday night found me atop a roof in Wrigleyville, across the street and just outside the left field foul line. While not all the company was as I would have chosen,
the crowd was generally a fun one. The food wasn’t too bad either.
It was an unusually cold night in August, so I pulled a fleece out of the closet. I think the weather helped me to really be in the mood a thick hamburger of a dense roll with onions, tomatoes, pickles and BBQ sauce. You could tell that it had been grilled just before I arrived at Brixen Ivy, as the cheese was all oozy and it smelled like it was still on fire (of course, there were also these waves of smoke pouring off the grill two doors down every time the wind picked up, but that was probably part of the “ambiance” for which I was paying through the nose). Also, due to my popular diet program, it had been a REALLY LONG TIME since I had eaten a beef burger with a complete bun (I’m eating the turkey or veggie variety open face these days, with a fork) and full-fat cheese, and I loved it.
On the side, I chose crisp, fresh broccoli and cauliflower with salad dressing, and a small bag of cheese popcorn. And a diet Coke. All around, not a bad meal.
The sad part of the night came near the end. Dessert was promised at the 5th inning, and I went in search of something sweet about midway through the 6th. The plate was BARE. and the kind chef who served up my burger just hours before said “I told you it would be out in the 5th.” Thanks a heap. That was the most expensive brownie I’ve ever missed out on.
(For the record, the most expensive dessert ever was the champagne and strawberries served at Vanderbilt after Commencement in 2000. I don’t like strawberries. But I made the most of the champagne.)