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Bite me, but not too gently
Armed with a carton of goat's milk, some discs of Taza chocolate left over from the Halloween party, and the fact that Dave's Fresh Pasta sells Fat Toad Farm goat's milk caramel, I have made myself goat's milk salt caramel hot chocolate.
Dinner was an experiment from Amsterdam Falafelshop on Elm Street. I'd bought salad items from them, but never actually their falafel. It's delicious. Crunchy on the outside without being tooth-breaking, fragrant chickpea goodness inside. I got three in a bowl (I wasn't sure how a pita pocket would travel) and piled baba ghanoush, hummus, pickled turnips, and garlic-fried eggplant around them; the cost came to less than most sandwiches and it was an entire dinner as far as I'm concerned. Their garlic cream sauce is indispensable. I forgot to try the tahini. Next time. There'll be a next time. Possibly very soon.
I am going to drink my hot chocolate and rewatch Stephen Frears' The Hit (1984), which has John Hurt being morally ambiguous. Of such things are evenings made.
Dinner was an experiment from Amsterdam Falafelshop on Elm Street. I'd bought salad items from them, but never actually their falafel. It's delicious. Crunchy on the outside without being tooth-breaking, fragrant chickpea goodness inside. I got three in a bowl (I wasn't sure how a pita pocket would travel) and piled baba ghanoush, hummus, pickled turnips, and garlic-fried eggplant around them; the cost came to less than most sandwiches and it was an entire dinner as far as I'm concerned. Their garlic cream sauce is indispensable. I forgot to try the tahini. Next time. There'll be a next time. Possibly very soon.
I am going to drink my hot chocolate and rewatch Stephen Frears' The Hit (1984), which has John Hurt being morally ambiguous. Of such things are evenings made.