My days of summer have been littered with fluorescence.
Green fluorescence, to be precise.
Green fluorescence that I have electrified into cells. Because when you play god. When you create thunder and lightning and shoot it into poor unsuspecting adipocytes (i.e. fat cells). Their response is to eat up any DNA that is sitting in the fluid that surrounds them.
This is what one would call “stress eating”.
Last year I was in charge of organizing restaurant week outings for my MD/PhD class.
Although maybe I was not in charge, as that implies some kind of appointed authority.
Maybe I took charge after we flailed around aimlessly all summer and talked about restaurant week (which in NYC actually became restaurant month after the powers that be realized how much money they had made in a week. Shockingly, when you offer a one hundred dollar meal for thirty bucks, you actually turn more of a profit than you would otherwise. And while there may be some long term lesson to be had from this. Something having to do with lowering prices. Permanently. The powers that be do not take advice from lowly food bloggers. Unfortunately. And so here we are again.) until the very last second. When finding a reservation for fourteen was actually impossible.
That’s really neither here nor there, though.
Two. The number of things that broke in my apartment yesterday.
Actually. Three. If you count my heart.
Michael Symon and I are in close correspondence.
You see. Every week I write him a letter asking him for his hand in marriage.
And every week. I do not get a response.
Welcome to Eats Well With Others, where we take a vegetable-and-cupcake laden approach to life (always with a bit of laughter on the side)!
