Today at the schmancy grocery store up the street, Mr. Butcher did not wash up after wrapping my boneless, skinless chicken breasts.
He took my money, and as I watched him turn away to make change, it dawned on me that he hadn't crossed over to the sink. He was making change with raw chicken essence all over his hands.
I frowned, worried that effluvia of chicken-sickness was going to rub off on my change. Little did I suspect that it was going to be even worse.
Did you know about this? Apparently Irish Egg Rolls are a common way to deal with corned beef and cabbage left overs. You add some swiss cheese to the left overs and wrap them up in egg roll wrappers. Drop the little package in hot oil until crispy and golden. That's all there is to it. I mean, some people add other stuff like seasoning, but then it's fancy food, like the French eat.
I consider this further proof that anything is edible if you deep fry it.
At five pm on Friday, Colleen called an emergency wishbone clover editorial meeting.
Since Cheap Girl and I had been the beneficiaries of a full day reverse-logic vortex at the Knickerbocker Bank, it was easy to say, "Where do you want to meet?"
We rushed to the bar and found Colleen talking to two friends, M. and D. Turns out, they are real, live readers of wishbone clover who aren't related to us by blood or marriage. (Hi ladies!)
In the editorial meeting we toasted the end of a long week. Colleen distributed excellent gifts from The China Adventure, and we planned misdeeds with chilling attention to detail. Then we were hungry.
We were also in luck, because Colleen always knows the perfect place for a meal. She shepherded us into a taxi and told the driver, "Minna and 7th, step on it!"
I was mildly horrified because they mainly have hookers and drug dealers in that part of town, but I've learned to trust her. And she came through again.
Custom Burger gives you just what the name promises: the burger that you want, the way that you want it. Your choice of meat, bread and toppings. Also, they have sweet potato fries. And wine.
Our order was #13, which was just right. Like the rest of the night.
The Times article about Skinny Bitch, a pro-vegan, anti-alcohol/caffeine/sugar/LIFE diet book, got me thinking about our food philosophy here at wishbone clover.
We can sum it up with one word: meat.
For our kick-off celebration, we had dinner at Bar Bambino, a surprisingly swank little restaurant on 16th Street in the Mission, just past the gathering point for your friendly neighborhood meth addicts.
At Bar Bambino, they're serious enough about their house-made salumi to have a separate, glass-walled prep station. And what meat! I think I can speak for both of us in saying that the cured beef with olive oil and lemon was life changing. To ensure that she didn't take more than her share, I pinned Cat's hand to the table with a fork while I took the above camera phone photo.
Word to the wise: if your server inquires about dessert wines and you respond "We-uhl have one of EVERYthing!!!" it's probably a safe indicator you should have none of anything.
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