Faux Pasta: A Sister Cooking Blog

Hey there! It’s Saturday morning. I’m drinking an iced coffee, sitting in an intricate set-up of an Ikea rocking chair with my feet on another couch directly in front of me, wearing bicycling shorts and forcibly trying to shove the sink landscape of piled-up dishes out of my brain. About to go meet some friends for Cheeseboard/Philz, and I’m going to ride my bike there, maybe.  Not fully committing is the key to getting out of self-imposed exercise. Look at you, getting up at 7:30, uploading random food pictures to the internet. Wow, is this cookbook-deal material or what?

• Voodoo Doughnut beer at Beer Revolution (gross, really gross)
• When the Boyfriend Cat’s Away, the Lady Cat Will Start a Fire By Herself (I ate everything on this grill, by myself. Felt not entirely terrible about it.) edited to add: don’t worry, I crisped the skin up. Nothing worse than flabby wings.
•  Greeeeens
• The Cheese Grater Was in the Sink and so I Chopped You, Cheese (I feel okay about omelettes when you throw other shit on top of them)
• Bacon-Chicken Mac and Cheese (“I Didn’t Think You Were Supposed to Put Chicken in Mac and Cheese” was the rave review)

In other news, my gentleman partner and I have found a house to live in for at least a year! Most of a house! At least 60% of a house. Standards, you know, they equilibrate when you move to the ritziest neighborhood in North Oakland. We’re going to have a patio. And a garden. I get teary just thinking about it. We’ll do a little house (well, kitchen) tour once we move in. There’s a dishwasher.

- Nellie

Favorite Food: Nachos

Least Favorite Food: Omelettes

Every time I make an omelette (which is never), I remind myself that I could have made nachos, no matter the time of day. I don’t understand people who order omelettes when they go out for brunch. Omelettes are the lowest common denominator of eggs. I know every chef on earth will disagree with me (because they are spending so much time reading amateur home cooking blogs) and say that omelettes, like clear beef consommes, are the litmus test for real cooks. You just try and talk over the sound of crispy, guacamole-heavy tortilla chips. I can’t hear you. Nope. No sounds, just crunching.

edited to add: I care so little for omelets/omelettes that I can’t even google search the spelling for the singular and plural.

- Nellie