So I went to Pittsburgh...

And I ate this whole sandwich all by myself. We were at Primanti's, which you may have seen on various Food Network shows throughout the years.

I know what you're thinking: Holy moly. Are those french fries in that delicious looking sandwich? As I recall that ginormous meal also had pastrami, lettuce, tomato and an egg. Don't ask--the Pittsburgh people seem to like eggs on lots of things that normal people don't usually put eggs on. I've learned it's best just to accept that.

But I CAN explain the fries thing. Stolen directly from the Primanti's website

Back in the 1930's, Joe Primanti opened a cart in the Strip District selling sandwiches to truckers on the go. It was decided that he should expand to a small restaurant on 18th Street. The hours were 3am to 3pm to accommodate truckers and the like. His brothers, Dick and Stanley, joined him along with nephew John DePriter who was the cook.

According to John, "One winter, a fella drove in with a load of potatoes. He brought a few of 'em over to the restaurant to see if they were frozen. I fried the potatoes on our grill and they looked pretty good. A few of our customers asked for them, so I put the potatoes on their sandwiches." And the rest is history. The Primanti Sandwich: a true taste of Pittsburgh.

That's not all the deliciousness, though.

As you may know, or may not know because you live on the moon, my birthday is on Christmas. I spent the holiday and Christmas (heh heh. See what I did there?) with my family, in the traditional holiday/Christmas celebration: Helping my son pack a UHaul trailer so he could move to Missouri the next day.  Then there was food and presents with the whole clan. Delicious and fun.

The next morning I went to Logan Airport and got on a plane ALL BY MYSELF* with NO LUGGAGE** and a ONE-WAY*** ticket, which meant a first-class pass to a full body scan. Good times, people. Yeah, like I would risk blowing up my new Vera Wang purse or missing out on that sandwich above.

Anyway, back to food.

After apparently some serious shenanigans including The Great Search for a Round Pan and Is Your Lemon Curd Lemony Enough? on Christmas night, in anticipation of my arrival the next day, The Chef and his family stayed up all night while he created the best birthday cake ever, complete with homemade aforementioned lemon curd and delicious coconut, my all-time favorite cake flavors.

I will end this post by allowing you to bask in the glow of the lemon curd...and no, I will not stop saying lemon curd.****


I am a delicious cake and you should be jealous because you cannot eat me!



"Nom nom nom," said the little butterfly...

* I was only a little bit afraid.

** Because I had sent it along with The Chef when he drove out to see his family.

*** Because I would be driving back with The Chef and my luggage.

****Lemon curd, lemon curd, lemon curd...

Merry Christmas Eve!

Xoxo

The picture didn't seem so dark on my phone. Well, that's the house fireplace spewing warmth and good cheer. Enjoy!

Zzzzzzzzz...

Last night I went to bed at 10:00 like a good girl, just like always (except when The Chef is away at Man Camp because there's no one to tell me "Go to bed" so I dont't, but that's a story for another day).

And then I woke up at 2:30.

AM.

In the morning, when even most of my students are asleep.

Yesterday we decorated the tree and the house and it was very fun. We put a clock that gongs the Reader's Digest version of a different Christmas ditty each and every hour on the hour. It's a little jarring if you're not expecting it over the course of the day/evening. It makes you go, "Oh. I didn't realize it was XXX o'clock..." and then you move on. Lather, rinse, repeat on the hour every hour.

I thought it would annoy me in the night time, but it didn't.

When I was asleep it didn't.

When it chimed/gonged/whatevered at 3:00 this morning, that was a little annoying. Same thing at 4:00. I vowed that if I heard that danged thing at 5:00 in the danged morning, I was opening the front door and throwing the clock on the dagnabbit lawn. Luckily for the clock, I finally fell back asleep.

Until 5:38 when the alarm went off. If I weren't so lazy and it was my alarm clock and not The Chef's, I would have thrown that on the lawn. One day, alarm clock. Watch your back, because one day, you're destined for the front lawn.

This is my long-winded way of telling you why I have no word count for you. I spent a good part of the day wishing I could go back to bed and the rest of it face-first asleep on couch. (I hope I didn't drool on the leather.)

Well, asleep on the couch until that effing clock chimed a Christmas carol at me.


XOXO (except for you, clock)