And For the Breakfast Minded...

... the same meal from the last post retrofitted to brunch specifications. I made a lot. I'll be eating it for weeks to come.

South meets FAR South

New York is a melting pot. Or perhaps a stone soup. Every ethnicity and nationality in the world are strongly represented with one noticeable omission. Where have all the Cubans gone? Were they ever here in the first place? We have Puerto Ricans, Dominicans and Haitians, and even the occasional Jamaican. Why then does the Caribbean's largest island represent the smallest population? Is 90 miles as far from their home country as they dare stray? Is the nearly tropical climate of South Florida too tempting to leave? We may never know the answer to this and life's many other ponderables. I do know one thing however, Cuban and Southern cuisine go together like beans and rice. Here is "Cuban Chili" with ground pork, and black beans, seasoned with cilantro, cumin, and lime. Oh yeah, that's a little slice of Jiffy Mix cornbread hiding in the back. Take that back to Havana, Castro!

Black Beauty

There's a new love in my life. I don't know her name yet, but I'm sure I will soon. She has already inspired me to write two new bluegrass/country songs. I'm going to cuddle with her tonight. I'm going to tell all my friends about her. I'm going to introduce her to my family as soon as I get the chance. I am smitten. My fingers are raw and yet my heart yearns for more...

Bacon, Egg, and Chi

I'd like to think that there's a strong brunch contingency in Korea. Not in North Korea obviously, where brunch is regarded in the same mindset as freedom of speech and nuclear non-proliferation. However, I still hope that there's a little soul left in Seoul. If not I'd like to extend an olive branch, or perhaps a rosemary sprig, to the people who mastered the art of spicy pickled cabbage. You have done for Brassica oleracea what Sartre has done for existentialism, what dinosaurs have done for oil, what Cupid has done for love, what the moon has done for the tides, and what gravy has done for mashed potatoes. Humanity is forever in your delectable debt. To that extent I must offer my sincerest apologies for what must be an unforgivable, yet delicious, impasse. Brown sugar bacon, eggs scrambled in the aforementioned renderings, ghetto-ass American cheese, and the coup-de-grace, kimchi. It takes a sick mind, and an even sicker stomach, to come up with such concoctions. All I can say is don't knock it until you've tried it, so long as you try it after 4 am...

The "God Help Me" Meal of the Week

Life is funny sometimes. Not in the traditional "ha-ha" sense (although it occasionally manifests itself that way.) It's usually more like the drunk uncle that gives you a solid indian burn knowing full well that your fair Irish skin has been scorched by the unforgiving Florida sun for the past week. A wiser man, or a possibly more ignorant man, than myself once said, "if you can't laugh at yourself then who can you laugh at?" Clowns have never done it for me. Mimes quite frankly creep me out. Homeless types just get me all bummed. To that extent here's a little bit of light-hearted self-deprecation. There are two things in life that are more obnoxious than going to bed hungry; too much hair on my head, and the obsequious beeping of the battery-exhausted smoke alarm in the hallway. While the beeping will drive me to an early grave, the hunger and hair are easily taken care of. For your viewing pleasure I present 'still-life with reverse mohawk', and 'bodega burrito.' Neither will quell my distaste for humanity, but at least they will help me sleep a little better. Here's to gravel gut, sandpaper head, and a heart of stone!