aithne: (Default)
....in a word--YUM.

Chef's Fest is a thing that the YWCA puts on every year. Basically, they take over a floor of the Regency Bellevue, invite in a bunch of chefs to do their thing, tasting-style, have a silent auction, and feed everyone food and wine and then ask for money for a good cause.

I was a tidge overdressed, but it was worth it--I wore a dress that Laura bought for the ceremony that didn't work out, and whoa. The thing looks good, and with the hem and the sparkly red fabric, it moves like flames. It's going to be the basis for a costume later, I think. (I have decided, unfortunately, that I hate the shoes I was wearing, and I need a pair of dress heels as those are my only pair. Must go shoe shopping.)

So, what did I eat?

Just about everything... verdict was: yummy! )
aithne: (confused)
So the cafeteria I usually go to at work has only one station at which the offerings change on a daily basis. It's never anything I can eat, so I generally ignore it.

It's right next to the salad bar, though, and it has a cheerful guy working the station who's very into selling whatever they happen to be serving today. Usually, it's things like lasagna and chicken parmesan and stuff.

Today?

It was poutine.

[For those of you unacquainted, poutine is a Canadian thing. Steak fries topped with cheese curds, with brown gravy slathered over the top. I've never had it, largely because I fear dropping dead at the table.]

I am having difficulty deciding whether this is awesome or sad. I'm leaning towards sad, because the cheese curds didn't really look like cheese curds. Some sort of fresh cheese, yes, but cheese curds are yummy and this was not those. (It was in cubes, looked kind of like tofu.)

Note: You could get broccoli on the side. Just...in case you were still hungry? After the fries, cheese, and gravy? Or wanted to apologize to your digestive system and give it some fiber?
aithne: (angel (happy))
First: I must go here. It is a moral imperative.

Second: I guess I do have some ingrained food prejudices, because not even the glowing praise of the best French food writer I know of can make me think that soft-boiled eggs in aspic are anything but gross. Gelatin is supposed to be sweet, damnit. (However, she has sold me on the yumminess of soft-boiled eggs and oeufs cocotte.)

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