With good credit to MSF, I ate very well while in San Francisco for 5 days. Two times to Zazie in Cole Valley for first gingerbread pancakes on Thursday and then eggs, homefries and French Toast Tahiti on Monday, the world's biggest burrito al pastor, the 4 tacos for $13 at Tacolicious on Valencia, the world's biggest can of Pabst Blue Ribbon at the Reggie Watts show, the world's most expensive ($14) cocktails at Top of the Mark, a relaxing Sunday-afternoon brunch at The Crepe Place in Santa Cruz, unsweetened cups of La Libertad at Ritual Coffee Roasters in the Mission, everything bagels with sliced avocado twice in NoPa, coffee-toffee ice cream and ice cream with mint-chocolate oreo chunks and flourless chocolate cake and sweet potato fries and In-N-Out burgers....
Yeah. So much for being a saint on my January diet ... every last bit of it undone. Albeit, happily and with gusto.
But the story here is the unendingness of my appetite since MSF and I parted ways Monday afternoon. Starting with cans of Fat Tire Amber Ale on both flights to Minneapolis, sandwiching the platter of fried chicken tenders, coleslaw and a 20-oz Sam Adams Alpine Spring at the Denver airport. Followed by a salmon scramble at the Longfellow Grill in Minneapolis the next morning. And a full one-quarter of the below-pictured "snack plate" (note both peanut and peanut butter M&Ms behind) during our family card game that afternoon.
Followed a couple hours later by several bowls of my sister's chicken chilli and more pita chips and another beer and German chocolate cake and cherry chocolate ice cream and, to end it, chocolate-covered bacon I'd picked up as a present in Santa Cruz. And a hearty egg and waffle breakfast by Mom the next day. And a "share-size" bag of Skittles on my first flight and a Hershey's candy bar on the second, sandwiching a large bowl of penne pasta, three slices of buttered bread and a chardonnay at Chicago O'Hare's premier Italian restaurant. Not to mention what I consumed after I got home at 1 a.m..... a bag of microwaved kettle corn, two mini Luna bars, and a clementine.
I won't even begin to get into today at work. But suffice to say it included BBQ chicken, Hershey's kisses, a croissant with a smear of sour cream, spoonfuls of peanut butter and handfuls of cereal.
Which is to say:
1) Damn. I've been hungry since I left San Francisco.
2) Amateur psychologists, all.... have at me.
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