Extremes in my mouth

Yesterday was a notable mouthday in that I pretty much fasted until 8:00 p.m. and then feasted on gourmet delights.

Not really fasting, of course... a bowl of Raisin Bran and a cup of coffee upon waking.

Note: Contrary to the above picture, I had no napkin, orange juice, nor sunshine while the Raisin Bran was in my mouth.  But it was still nice.

For lunch I reheated a tupperware of pea barley soup that was about a day too old.  Now, even super fresh pea barley soup is (delicious but) so gross looking that it's a little embarrassing to eat at work.   Past-it pea barley soup is less appealing.  I had about two bites and tossed it.  And kind of lost my appetite.

And then nothing at all was in my mouth for like eight hours.  Except a cigarette (sorry).  I started feeling hungry in the late afternoon, but RJG and I were planning on going on a fancy Seattle Restaurant Week date, so I figured I'd hold off.  But an hour before our reservation, I plotzed.  Mega headache and quease and general zombie-ness.  I had to close my eyes all the way to the restaurant so as to not die.  We got there about 20 minutes early, so I ended up crawling to the convenience store up the street to get a bottle of apple juice, which provided the soul-reawakening sugar rush I needed.

I <3 apple juice!

It was just like this photo.

And then we ate all kinds of excellent stuff at Serafina, which is a very classy but not-to-pretentious Italian joint.  Oh my was it good.  More on the details later.  Maybe Ryan would care to elaborate...

Coffee And Something Called A 'Grubwich'

I haven't had coffee at home for a little bit! I was like oh what beans shall I buy! WHAT SORT OF COFFEE WILL SERVE ME IN MY DOMAIN?!?!

I used to get free Caffe Vita coffee beans at my old job. But at my new jobs I don't currently have access to free Vita coffee. So I have to think about what to buy. I wonder about what beans to buy! There are so many different roasters out here. Sometimes they are on sale at QFC and I'm like oh maybe I'll just buy those. I did that with Zoka once. I also was curious about Zoka. And I was in the mood for a darker roast. So I bought the Zoka and it was very nice.

Then I ran out.

So, after much anticipation, and some outtings for Top Pot or Herkimer (yumz), I purchased some coffee.

And I went with Peets.

Which is funny to me. Because there are so many different roasters out here. So many I haven't tried. And so many different roasts I haven't tried by the roasters I do know.

But my Dad is a diehard Peets fan. It's all he drinks for the most part.

Plus I like Peets drip coffee. I haven't had an espresso drink from them in a long time. But I had a latte last winter and I wasn't crazy about it. Too hot.

So I decided to give it a go. I bought their Italian roast.

It looks EXACTLY LIKE THAT BAG.

Funny.

As soon as I wrote the word funny I stood up and walked to the kitchen and checked to see if it really looked exactly like that. Because I don't pay attention to details like that. And sure enough, they are different. More words on mine. More gold on mine.

Where as the one above just says 'Italian Roast: Fresh Roasted Coffee' + weight.

My bag says "Italian Roast, Deep, full-bodied. Espresso favorite.' Specifies whole beans, and says 'Roasted by hand in small batches.' Finally ending with the 'Fresh Roasted Coffee' and the weight.

Whatever, my bag has more words on it. Peet's upped their game on this bag.

Whatever. I drank a whole pot of that coffee this morning and it tasted nice. I like dark roasts a lot sometimes. Less bim bam complex on the flavor but a more satisfying texture, mouth feel, son.

I then agreed to get coffee with a friend. He lives up somewhere in the hills and so we meet at the Herkimer on 56th and the ave. Herkimer coffee is niceeeee. Always nice.

I had an americano. He had drip. 12 oz, of course. The most reasonable size. 8oz might even more reasonable. Or 6 oz, some say!

I used to drink a lot of drip. A lot of lattes. Big, wacky soy lattes from Starbucks! That was in the winter and spring of 2009-2010. I got a little more serious about coffee when I started working with it, obviously.

But lately I drink so many americanos. They are good, really nice.

I tried my friends drip. Sometimes coffee tastes light and floral. Sometimes its a little bit fruity.

This coffee tasted like berries. It was their Ethiopian. Nice.

Then I got a drip refill and they had changed coffees. So I had their Sumatran. Also very nice, less on the fruity flavors. More on the something else.

After that I was off to work.

This is when I ran into something called a 'Grubwich'.

Yes, a new eatery on our main drag. Broadway. Right in the thick of things.

Here, a photo of part of their menu

I had the El Gaucho. You see what that has on it right? I mean, you are reading that picture, or have read it, right bro? Good!

Because that sandwich was dope.

Chimichurri. What? A sauce made of parsley, chopped garlic, oil, and other shit?

You gonna put that on some cabbage? Make a nice slaw? Yeah?

Gonna put it all on some steak that already tastes great?

Oh and that bread is great.

I really like the El Gaucho.

The fries were nice too. They came with some chipotle ranch. Nice

After that it was time to go to work and there I had some more coffee.

A macchiato this time.

It was made in the process of a drink training, other than my own.

It looked like this:

But I din't have a pastry with it.

But I did eat a cherry almond cutie pie after leaving work tonight:

Those are the main highlights of my eating day. I feel like it went well. I had a lot of coffee.

And then I was like 'Why do I feel so thirsty and on the verge of a headache'.

Too much coffee, bro.

I'm sorry this went on so long.

Nick the Nick Nick the Nick Nick Nick Nickelodeon

Foddfession: I ate so many turkey meatballs today that, after an hour of awkward digestion, I stumbled around my office groaning and puffing. Oh, I ate them with a cool blue gatorade. I could not think or act. I leaned forward like a dog and stared out the window. The meatballs had turned into meaty shrapnel hunks. I realized that what used to be in my mouth would soon be in my mouth all over again. In retrospect, this sensation has reminded me of a bucket of Nickelodeon slime falling through my body in a reverse direction of splashy pain. The meatballs now neon blue-green, ready to spew out of me and then drop back down on my head with the mystical properties of some slime-gak hybrid child. So I stood up really quick and gave one final gasket puff like a steamtrain determined to slug into the station. I unwittingly spun around and sunk back down to the chair. What a relief! The hot turkey stinking vapor continued to emit from my fair stinkhole. I breathed through my nose and let the feeling pass me. At that point I was able to work again. Thank goodness I didn't Nickelodeon all over the Amazon!

Also, my tongue is swelling, waiting to explode my mouth and throat. But we'll save that for another day!

FREEEEDOM

Or at least a free sandwich and pastry. There was a free sandwich in my mouth not ten minutes ago. A sandwich of bacon, tomatoes, spinach, cheddar, and mayo.

I started a new job today and I was able to get the sandwich from them. It was left over. I ate it! I also ate a ham and swiss croissant, which was delicious. I also got it for free from this new job. They told me I could eat whatever I wanted.

Pig and cheese go well together LOLOLOL. I know someone A CONTRIBUTOR TO THIS BLOG who would never never eat pig, let alone with cheese on it! BAHHHHHHH!

BUT WOULD YOU EAT A PIG MADE OF CHEESE?!?!

Would you bite the nose off of this bitch?

I know you would. There is nothing wrong with pretending to eat a pig covered in cheese when in reality it is just a pig made of cheese.

This cheesy piggy nutrition was vital.

I woke up with a bumping skull because I was too Belgian last night.

I went out to a place that one might call the uncoordinated abbot.

I drank some fiery vinegar, red red juice.

I drank some Pliny The Elder.

I drank ancient Aztec recipes recreated from the dirt.

Words came from my mouth all night.

Water went into my mouth for most of the night.

The sleep was delightful. Drool sustained my mouth through the night.

Now my mouth is at a loss. Words flow from the fingers now. Not from the mouth.

Freedom will continue to pour into my mouth in the form of croissants, pies, sandwiches, ice creams. All that good shit that will make me into the fat boy I want to be.

All I need

The following things have been in my mouth today:

Cheerios w/ b'nana
Hell of coffee 
Chicken Soup (big ole tupperware)
Halloween Candy

And I feel surprisingly satisfied.

I ate a mini 100 Grand bar from the receptionist candy bowl.  I always shied away from these guys because I thought the 100 referred to lots of nuts (I could do without nuts).  But it turns out 100 Grand is delicious, and has crispies and caramel filling.  Great job!  Here are some 100 Grand bars wearing pearls.

What Lurks Behind the Overlooked Chin? Behind the Innocent Mouth?!

I've been moving my mouth alot lately. Too much. Many odd things have happened to my mouth I hope to recount on this blog. Here's one now. During one of my many openings, in the midst of a grilled cheese and artichoke dip suction cup episode of bacchinalian bliss, I tweaked something. That's how I described it at first. "Something feels wrong in my mouth," I spouted out. The words pushing their way towards the world between goopy lines of cheese forming like cobwebs in my mouth cave. "Now it feels like something is cutting me. Did I eat a piece of glass? Was there glass in my sandwich and dip?". I sent a finger into the hole to probe for any invaders and to then report back to me. The finger found nothing. Nothing in my mouth spoke of pain or suffering, or even tweaking. I was lost and the pain remained. It belonged to my face and it seemed related to my mouth. Not some distant second cousin; no, this pain was intimate. I pondered. I felt around some more. I scratched my chin. MOTHERFUCKER, MY CHIN HURTS.

This proclamation warped me into the land of pain-induced migraines and immobility. Chin-chin, hairy nub of nubs, why, oh why, have you forsaken me? After an hour of advil, babying courtesy of girlfriend, laying down, and finally, with the effort of non-thought, accepting the void that was now my life forever, I felt sorta relaxed. Then I slithered over to the computer, my chin thumping with such gruesome detail it may have been life-or-death open heart surgery. I googled something like "my mouth hurt but it was chin" and while the results were spare, I found my answer. Mandible. No, not edible men. No, not vague memories of Mankind doing some nasty shit to the mouths of his in-ring enemies: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GdJ8Toqy9z0. No, mandible, the bone forming the skull with the cranium. I don't care to know what that means too much, I just want to be able to say it. Mandibles can get tweaked and mandibles can fucking hurt. Or more precisely, the muscles that twist around my mandible, like a tangle of vines. The mentalis of my mandible. Scientific body shit. Since they connect your jaw, skull, brain, they are integral to the happiness of your mouth. Even chewing something as slurpy and lowly as melted cheese can mean the wrath of mandible. I don't know why the mandible had never attacked me in such a devastating fashion before. It had either been biding its time, or it had been attacking me all along and I had simply blamed food intake or my innocent hole and then moved on. Never again will I dismiss this deadly piece of bone.

You know, as I slowly returned to normal levels of pain and mouth movement, I wondered if maybe the mandible would lash out again. Maybe it would seal my mouth shut for good. Lockjaw. I would try to wedge a piece of leather in there as it was sealing shut. But the mandible would push past the leather, shearing it off, leaving a hunk of shoe-taste in my mouth. A piece of leather left there to dissolve like communion. The mandible, my newfound God, telling me that I will never open my mouth again. That I will be forced to breathe through my nose, forever recounting all the things that used to be in my mouth. Knowing that nothing would ever enter my mouth again. Waiting for the liquid food to slither into my body intravenously. Slurp slurp.

I fear you mighty mandible. I don't know what I need to do to appease your gruesome jaws but I will try to find out.

BEER WERE IN MY MOUTH

Last night I drank a variety of beers. It was one of those nights that gets away from you. You just go somewhere and you buy something and then you buy some more stuff.

A list of the beers I consumed in chronological order:

1. (2) Brideport Hop Czar

2. (1) Southern Tier Creme Brulee Stout

3. (1) Elliott Bay Pumpkin Ale

4. (2) Victoria Cerveza w/ lime (duh).

What to make of this diverse array of beers? How to think of them all? I've worked at thinking about beer since moving to Seattle. I love it so much. I am a very analytical person and I've tried to apply those powers of analysis to beer. Because it is fun! DUH!

Well. Lets just take it from the top and start talking.

Hop Czar is a really nice beer.

I like it a lot. Really intense bitter hoppiness. I can really get into that bitterness of an IPA. I had read something about how the beer world at this point in time was really hopcentric, really into IPAs and their bitterness. As a result I've attempted to drink different types of beers, lighter beers, milder beers. But there is still something to be said about intensely hoppy beer. And Hop Czar is a good one. There is something more drinkable about it than other IPAs too. It has a nice balance between the bitterness and a clean after taste.

After that me and mghtrmndu headed out to one of our local fav pubs. Super nice staff. Great selection of beer. Something like 15 taps, which is awesome for a place that is literally a block from my apartment. There I immediately saw they had the Southern Tier creme brulee stout on tap. I was like wtf that sounds crazy. The Souther Tier chocolate ale is crazy good. I've had it several times. Tastes like Hershey syrup in a beer. The creme brulee stout, just like the chocolate ale, is served in a schooner, 10 ounces. It is an intensely flavorful beer that is also pretty alcoholic. The chocolate ale has a stronger alcoholic taste. The creme brulee stout is surprisingly mild on alcohol (at least in taste). Prominent flavors: sweetness, caramel, vanilla, and a mild but discernible smokiness. The smokiness was awesome because it reminded me of the charred surface of creme brulee. Overall a delicious beer that did not disappoint. Really did remind me of creme brulee.

Imagine a beer that tastes like this:

I don't have to. I drank it last night. Booya.

After that I decided to try the Elliott Bay pumpkin ale. Pumpkin beer is in season and I'm curious about them. This one, however, was not my favorite. It was not very aggressive on the pumpkin flavor. Rather, I tasted a lot of the spices that you associate with pumpkin pie: nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, etc.. But not a lot of pumpkin. Pumpkin spice beer is more like it.

This picture shows spices with the pumpkin. It was mostly the spices. One thing I did notice about the beer was the thickness of the lacing. When you take a sip of a beer you can look at the glass and check out the rings of foam that are left behind. Lacing, this is called. Gives you a sense of the thickness and texture of the beer. The lacing was prominent on this one. What does this mean? Who knows. But I noticed it.

Finally I decided to join my friend in his consumption of a milder, more refreshing Mexican beer: Victoria.

He has been hooked on Victoria for a little while now. Victory tavern serves them. He saw it there for the first time maybe? In any case, there is something delightful about a nice Mexican beer with lime. The lime tastes really really good. With a mere 4% alcohol content it is much lower in alcohol than some of the other brews I was sipping on (Hop Czar clocks at 7.5%, the creme brulee stout at 9.6%). It was a great way to wrap up a night of beer. A great way to enjoy myself.

I certainly did enjoy myself. The whole night was filled with good things going into my mouth (including the pea barley soup that mimi wrote about yesterday).

I also had a lot of good stuff coming out of my mouth (words not puke). We didn't stop talking for the whole 2 hours we were at the summit public house. Well done!

I often have beer in my mouth. But this is the first time I've written about it.

It is fun.

Drink and be merry bitches!

Boy do I love soup.

The last week has been real soupy for me.  Last week I made an obscenely endless pot of chicken noodle soup, which is one of my very favorite things to do. Extra parsnip please. Then a couple days later I made my first ever beef stew (thanks, America's Test Kitchen!).  And last night I made pea barley soup.  Rhiann was skeptical, but then tasted it and was like yum yum. Cats love it, too. Binky closed his eyes and licked some off of his papa's finger, which was obviously precious.  I really like this kind of soup.  My mom always used to make it for post-Yom-Kippur fast-breaking.  It's so easy.  You just bring dried barley and split peas to a boil with some onion, garlic, chicken stock, and a bunch of bay leaves and let it summer till the peas have sliquified and the barley is tender.  So good. Arya and Jon and all my other friends in Westeros are grateful to sup on, like, thin onion broth with a sad little sliver of carrot.  And I'm like, you guys, you would flip your shit for this pea barley soup.

And don't even get me started on Chicken and Dumplings Day.  Every Wednesday is Chicken and Dumplings Day at the deli across the street from my work, which is a Big Ass Deal in my world. One time I got there too late and they were out of Chicken and Dumplings and I was visibly upset.  So now the sweet folks at Pamela's know to save a cup for me.  They can spell my name however they damn well please.  Oh man.  I love Chicken and Dumplings Day.  Akin to pea barley in its visual homeliness and overall nomnomness, this ish is always piping hot, perfectly peppered, rib-stickingly viscous, and generously dumpling-ed.  Wednesday rules.

 

This is where I get The Soup.

Another (non-soup) item of note: Honeycrisp apples.  They are really great right now, especially when perfectly sliced with my neat appleslicer.  I had a really strange moment yesterday while taking the first bite of one at my desk.  It was pretty much a perfect apple in my book, but it was more than the quality that struck me.  Something about the distinct taste and texture of this particular apple gave me a really vivid flashback to what I am pretty sure was third grade-- munching on such an apple slice while listening to my teacher read The B.F.G.  For real.  This isn't a memory I recall thinking about much... I really think it was the apple that did it.  I've had a few taste- and smell- induced flashbacks like this before, which is both strange and sweet.

                                                            Also, The B.F.G. is great!

SALTY SALTY MEAT MEAT AND OLIVES

My time at my current job is waning and I feel good about it.

One thing that has become a part of my routine is to listen to Young Jeezy and Zola Jesus while I walk down the street to the Essential Baking. I told them, 'I work at a cafe up the street but I like your cafe better'.

Then I say 'Put your sandwiches in my mouth.' So far I've tried many of them. My first favorite was the turkey and goat cheese sandwich. It comes with caramelized onions and arugula. And I mean like a bunch of arugula. Like a big thick layer of them. Like this:

A different sandwich is pictured. But a comparable amount of greens. The one I ate had even more. Oh that arugula. It is fucking good.

Today I had a sandwich called an Italian. It was on baguette. It had prosciutto, salami, provolone, roasted tomatoes, and OLIVE TAPENADE.

I thought about olives. How salty and strange they were How they had this soft bizarre temperature. I was like what the hell is up with these things? Do they just grow on trees with this ridiculous saltiness? Or do they like soak these bad boys or brine them or something? What is this crazy salt all about?

This is a mystery that, obviously, will never be solved.

But I sure have taken to olives. They are strange and salty. They taste good on pita bread. They go well with salty meats. SALTY SALTY MEATS YUMMMMM!

Grocery Store Sushi and Death

Legend has it that on his deathbed, Millard Fillmore, 13th President of the United States, was fed some soup. "The nourishment is palatable," he said and then he died. I infrequently wonder about my own death. My last meal. Perhaps I will be condemned to death in some grisly prison somewhere. Even though they have a claim on my life, they will still offer me a last meal. What will it be? What will the last bite be like? Will it be a chunk of meat? The death of another mingling in my half-live mouth. Perhaps it will complete some unfathomable cycle. A whirling of time, breath, stillness, and decomposition. Steak, shrimp, and bacon. There was a time where that may have been my last tall order. I'd eat it with a big 'ol bib. There'd be a sheen of sauce on my face as they strapped me to that last chair, that last stage. Pull the trigger, fire the shot, release the juice. Dead. Meat.

But yesterday I didn't die. Something both nourishing and palatable graced my mouth. It seems like a bad punchline to tell you that it was grocery store SUSHI. Nonetheless, it exceeded expectations. Soft and unfishy-Alaskan slamon salmon that makes you feel locally responsible (LOL). How nice. I worked at Trader Joe's for a time and boy did that sush blow. I was fooled once and swore off the grocery store sushi trade. I've since come around. QFC makes sush on site, complete with Japanese man (ish, Asian man to be more imprecise) who dons a traditional, reassuring garb and slices the sushi with what I imagine to be a never ending blade of might. It was decent sushi, alright? I sopped it up with sauce and green horseradish and plopped it in there. There, you know, the gullet. I ate it with a salad. Blasting chunks of malleable sushi slabs with burly croutons and crisp, defiant lettuce spines. Caesar dressing to boot for that added fish paste sensation. Sushi from the grocery store can work. It will not be what I want when I must relieve myself of this life. But palatable fits.

ABOVE: Filmore faces death and sushi with stoic resolve.

Morningsnax

Guys, there is something in my mouth RIGHT NOW.  Whenever I bring a sandwich to work I can't help but eat it before standard lunch time.  I do so somewhat secretively, holding my sweet samu underneath my desk and taking quick furtive bites, because I feel that there is some shame in eating a cheese sandwich in the morning.  

Anyhow, all of the following have already been in my nom hole today.  In reverse chronological order:

Patented mimi sandwich, consisting of
1. Dave's Blue's Bread
2. MiracleWhip 
3. Beaver Sweet'n'Hot 'stard
4. Four slices of tomato
5. Four leaves of fresh basil (best part)
6. Overlapping tiles of Tilamook Extra Sharp Cheddar (other best part)

One Reese's Peanut Butter Cup (swiped from receptionist Halloween candy bowl)

One cup office coffee (Starbucks Sumatra Roast)

Several Fig Newtons (Whole Grain)


Second toothpaste (to cleanse coffeemouth)

One bowl Cheerios (half plain Cherrios, half Honey Nut, because we have both and why the hell not)

Two cups home coffee (Yuban with cinnamon)

First toothpaste (to cleanse sleepmouth)

... and the day is young!                                                                                                                                  

O-ie O-ie OOOOOO

There are more mouths on this blog! Bring on the mouths! Open the fucking fucker wide open! MOUTH FEEL YEAH! We're gonna get mouths twitching, mouths popping open. Mouths spoon feeding themselves till KINGDOM COME. Welcome mouths.

Here's a quick one today. Spoonfulls of Cheerios. I had Cheerios for the first time in a long time. They tasted like toasted bread chunks. But not too toasted that it leaves bread dust behind. Just like toast chunks without butter or jam, dunked in milk. It was nice to hang out Cheerios. See ya tomorrow? Prolly!

BEANSSSSSS

Right now I'm in the process of changing jobs. I'm trying to make coffee somewhere else! Luckily I'm interviewing at places that serve Caffe Vita coffee, which I'm already trained to do. HOORAY!.

I have coffee in my mouth all the time...

But because I'm switching jobs I don't have a lot of money.

So, I have these in my mouth more often than not:

BEANSSSS!

Toothpick Prickin' Good

You are embarking upon a journey into the history, the very annals of my mouth. Call it my head cavity. My vortex of fatty fat. This will be like a reverse waterslide. All the stuff that went down is going to come back up. But when you travel through time something is destined to go wrong. In this instance, the instance of the reverse waterslide, all the things that used to be in my mouth will emerge deformed, half-digested and sizzling. Well, without further ado, I will now inaugurate my new blog with a reverse timeline of what I spent today chunkifying. Here is the glorious list; I hold myself alone accountable:

• water
• Mounds Candy Bar
• McDonald's Original Crispy Chicken Sandwich.
• Glutinous Rice and Pla Rad Prik remnants (I'll explain later)
• Tea-Green w/Lemon and then just Lemon
• Two Bananas
• Strawberry Yogurt
• Toothpaste and Water

Well there you have it folks. Mull away. I leave you with a lovely pair. Think of them as egg sacks spawning over and over again in my belly pit!