box of Jack

Ok so it’s 1:15am on a Sunday/Monday and I’m still awake. Why? Because I’m an idiot.

After sleeping in and waking up late, I decided to crank out a little breakfast at noon. Breakfast for me is awesome because it just means frying up whatever and it’s pretty much the only time of day I can eat eggs without being kind of disgusted by them. I have a well-stocked fridge when it comes to breakfast. Today was buttered toast and an omelette with mushrooms and spinach.

These days I’m actually making “toast” in the frying pan because uh… I broke my toaster after I dropped butter inside. It still works but all this smoke comes out of it so something must be shorted and I’d open it up but my mind always flashes back to the scene in The Ring when the father sits in the bathtub and drops the toaster into his lap. The little Yiddish voice in my head goes, “Toast schmoast. Whaddya need that for?!”

I didn’t get hungry for “lunch” until 4:30pm. Leftover pizza. I ate half a freakin’ cold pizza for lunch and I’m not particularly proud of it but the jalapenos kept calling my name. When I looked down, the box was empty and I was filled with cardboardy dough and the industrial-grade packing material they substitute for mozzarella cheese.

No surprise then that I didn’t eat dinner. Just wasn’t hungry.

All would have gone well but right before my bedtime, I decide to watch an episode of Jamie at Home and he’s doing these amazing things with boring old broccoli and cauliflower. I suddenly remember why I own two of his cookbooks and it’s because he does these wonderfully rustic meals with simple, fantastic ingredients. My head hits the pillow, my eyes are shut and all I can do is replay the recipes in my head, figuring out what I can subtract and alter without compromising on the flavours. I’m making mental shopping lists. I’m thinking about buying more cookware.

So that’s why I’m still awake. I’m hungry and I’m just dying to cook something brilliant. Why is my brain wired this way?