sunday breakfast

Hello, my name is Captain Obvious and I’m here to report that I love dining out.

Restaurants always seem to have a better wine cellar than I do, if only I would stop drinking it all. I never have to wash the dishes or pick up the table. If they screw up a dish, it’s a quick re-fire; if I screw up, it’s a bowl of two-minute noodles.

Part of my “my life on the road” (let’s be honest, I don’t travel nearly as much as consultants do, but I try) involves a lot of dining out. For the most part, I love it. Yuma, you’re a challenge, but I’ll figure you out soon enough. Montreal, you’re a treat.

There is a downside, though. After a while, I crave a home-cooked meal. I don’t want to stare at a menu, choose what to eat, make conversation with the bartender or restrict myself to the wine by the glass menu. After a while,I just want to sit at a table with friends and family and be able to steal food off their plates.

You can’t do that when you’re dining solo. Just an FYI.

Saturday evening I joined old friends and new friends for a meal cooked with love. We all know those are the best kind of dinners. My friends Dena and Marko were our lovely hosts, and let me just say – the girl can cook.


We started off with a spicy heirloom tomato and mozzarella salad. Dena also added bite sizes pieces of bread, making this more of a panzanella. It had just the right amount of kick to add a depth of flavor but not hide the flavor of the seasonal heirlooms. I would have been happy with just a bowl of this, but y’all know how I feel about cheese.


Next was the bucatini alla’ammatraciana, which absolutely satisfied my hankering for pasta. I think there are few things in the world that say, “I cooked for you because I love you” more than pasta.


Along with the pasta, Dena served us a summer squid sauté. I don’t know if she’s ever cooked squid before, but this was absolutely perfect. The snap peas offered a great variance in texture and the squid was cooked immacutely. Not rubbery or chewy, it was just perfect.


For dessert, a fellow diner had brought the most amazing brownies I have ever tasted. Gooey chocolate, luscious caramel and apparently it usually comes with Kahlua. On Saturday it came with an Irish coffee. How good does that brownie look. Not nearly as good as it tasted, that’s for certain.


Oh, but why stop there. Using a recipe from everyone’s favorite fake Italian (I won’t name names, but her’s rhymes with Shmiada), Dena served us a beautifully light and bright lemon mint cake with lemon syrup. It was the perfect end to the meal.


Except it wasn’t. No, we ended the meal with this brand spankin new tequila – Qui. Qui is triple distilled, aged three and a half years in oak barrels and is the world’s first platinum extra añejo tequila. No color, beautiful to sip, this tequila will have you wondering why you’ve been drinking that stuff in the short bottles for so long. And then you’ll swear to never go back. It’s that good.

Alright, alright enough about Saturday! This is a post about Sunday breakfast. After a night of not-so-light drinking, all I wanted is a breakfast to coat my stomach and absolve my sins.


Egg, you and your sautéed cherry tomatoes and avocado and melted cheese friends are all I wanted for Sunday breakfast.

And a cup of tea, of course.

We’re halfway to the weekend, friends. I hope your hump days are not so bumpy.

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