FOOD

A couple of my friends went back to the states over winter break. Paul finished his contract and was taking his extra 2 weeks vacation before starting his new one, and Jen had to go home for some special surgery 'cause she got in a bus accident in Peru a few years ago, or something like that. Anyway, I wanted some mac and cheese, because you can't get that here. Not even at Costco. I know, it's a disgrace. I told Paul to get me some first because I knew he was going home first, and then I told Jen to get me some later as a back-up plan, because I couldn't entirely count on Paul not blowing all his money on booze and forgeting to get me my mac and cheese.

Jen gave me the goods first, one regular box of Annie's "mild" style - this is basically Annie's version of Kraft Mac and Cheese for all the 8 year-old sissies that think their classic purple-box cheddar is too "intense" - and a box of "family size" mac and cheese that was different from the other box, but still not the white cheddar that is so good. Not that I'm complaining, they were both delicious. I ate the regular box that evening after Jen gave them to me, and I ate the "family size" the following night. "Family size" is a huge overestimation, by the way. I ate the whole thing with no problem, and man was it good. If I had a family, they would've been hungry that night, because there was absolutely nothing left.

I got Paul's shipment a week later. Five boxes of Annie's. It's obvious who loves me more, even though these boxes were all the "mild" Kraft imitation styles. I ate one box the other day, and decided I would be the man at an upcoming pot luck/language exchange meeting by making three boxes and bringing that. It was a sure-fire champion move, except that when I started eating it at the meeting, it was terrible. It had cooled in transit, but even still, it was dry and not that cheesy. I must not have had the right proportions of milk and butter, even though I thought I tripled the right amounts correctly. Hey, even pros make mistakes sometimes. Just ask Tiger Woods. Anyway, maybe a quarter of it got eaten, and I don't blame anyone for not liking it, it was a total let down for me too. But that's OK! I brought the leftovers home and I put a bunch in the frying pan today with more butter, olive oil, Tabasco, two slices of cheese, the crumbs from a nearly-empty bag of frozen tortillas, and some Parmesan. I fried that shit right up and it wound up being okay. I had to use the frying pan because I don't have a microwave. Or an oven.

But that's not all! Jen also gave me a nearly full jar of pesto. She all of a sudden came out as being lactose-intolerant, and there are traces of cheese in the Trader Joe's pesto, so I scored a free one there. I tried to make chicken pesto pasta like my girlfriend did once, but mine came out dry and not really that good at all. I readjusted my battle plan against this pesto, and really nailed it. I've been making these fucking awesome sandwiches. I chop up chicken breast and onions and pan-fry that shit with a bunch of pesto and a little Tabasco, and then I put it on white bread, because you can't find whole grain bread here, with sliced cheddar cheese and tomatoes and lettuce and then I put the sandwich on the frying pan for a bit. I butter the outsides of the bread in advance, so by the time the cheese melts and the bread browns, these sandwiches are out of the god-damn world! I don't know what I'm going to do when I run out of the pesto. I'll probably just replace it with Tabasco sauce.