The lonely heart is surrounded by sweetness nevertheless.
I did my first French toast
today yesterday. Too bad I didn’t have cinnamon. But the vanilla and butter and milk turned out okay. I had fun immersing the bread into the egg-milk-vanilla concoction and frying it to a golden brown and somewhat puffed up because of the eggs.
And then I added an omelet for more fun. Plus the yogurt — I don’t actually know why I suddenly threw it on the toast. The combination didn’t seem to go very well, so I immediately scraped it off; yummy.
But the toast wasn’t very good. It only looked very good. I suppose it’s the lack of flavor; cinnamon could really have made it awesome. I settled with honey to sweeten the food. It was okay.
Note to self: Buy cinnamon.
Update: This morning I re-fried the leftover toast. Not much difference from yesterday’s. Then I friend an egg using butter — tasty! And fatty.
On Facebook late one night, I found a friend posting a clip of Gordon Ramsay cooking scrambled eggs and frying a few other stuff. I was inspired.
The next morning, since the ref was nearly empty of decent ingredients except eggs and tomatoes, I decided to do a Gordon of last night.
For the first time I cooked the eggs with butter (plus black pepper and salt). It was too buttery and not as creamy as the celebrated chef’s, because I didn’t have cream (poor copycat).
And then I fried big tomatoes, unlike Gordon who fried tiny ones. As expected, the heat didn’t do any good to my tomatoes, except softening one part of the red wonder. And I stashed in the canned sardines, which were drowning in tomato sauce. Perhaps the real tomatoes eventually ended up in the meal to remind me of what the sardines actually had as company.