You’d think that for someone who weeped slightly while watching SATC the-Village-wet-dream in her Vancouver apartment 15 years ago, and now replays movies like You’ve Got Mail the-Upper-West-Side-porn to ease her New-York-home-sickness, if now given the chance to move back to the city, would of course choose Manhattan in a heart beat. Well, almost.
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I think that more than lunch, or dinner, or snacks and what-nots, people tend to have a more fixated idea on what a breakfast ought to be. Even though I may have my Asian background to thank for (if I may) a broader window on other-than-American foods, I’m still sometimes a bit… pleasantly awed by what other parts of the world eat for breakfast during my travels (that’s IF I ever wake up for it… but let’s just pretend I do).
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Word on the street has it for some time, that Tony has wrapped his last episode of No Reservations, and filming what is said to be his last season of The layover. Roughly 1 month ago, the cold-blooded confirmation came in his blog that he is indeed parting with the shows that have come to be a great part of my culinary adventure for the past 9 years. …Abandonment is what comes to mind. How dare you leave us with our nights to be spent with Sam B. or Andrew Zimmer’s clotted blood… or fermented ball sacks… or whatever.
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The only equivalent comparison in life to this would be: In our last two years in New York when we were practically cast out of Manhattan by elitism (FINE, high rents) and moved to… Jersey City where there was a most pathetic looking, hicks-Ahoy karaoke bar right around the block. With more conviction than I withheld on my wedding day I said to Jason, “IF we EVER raised even the SLIGHTEST idea of walking into this place, it is THE moment that we’ve been “Jersified” and must pack up and move back in the city immediately!” We survived Jersey and never did walk into that karaoke bar. But instead THIS happened here. My cue that says I have been in YET another dump for far too long that – I – made – a – PIE!!!
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My tormenting yet bittersweet affair with eggs has been nothing short of a Hollywood love story. It began as mutual loath in early years, but turned into a passionate obsession overnight in adulthood. Then six month ago at the height of our oblivious happiness, we were torn apart and forbidden by authorities without warning or mercy… cold turkey style. If I’m sounding overly dramatic, I’m not. I believe it’s fair to say that I consumed on average, 3 eggs per day for the past decade. Some days 4 to 5 if we were feeling naughty. A disgusted horror by any cardiologists’ standard.
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Like maybe how it brings me back to a perfect bistro setting on a perfect corner in Paris, or maybe how I found a rustic-charm, free-range chicken farm in outskirt BJ where we took our dogs to spend a leisurely weekend. But, NO. I’ve never had such a dish that’s remotely close in Paris. And these eggs were bought from Taobao because I was too lazy to do grocery, and delivered by a postman who left it in front of my door step because I was too lazy to open the door. What brings me to share this recipe which I’ve already made several times before, is that this time… it’s gonna be served in this beeeautiful, over hundreds RMB black iron skillet that I found on Taobao for 35RMB!!!!
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