IF YOU CANNOT BE A KING, AT LEAST EAT LIKE ONE

Being a recap of Elisson’s Culinary Adventures of May 20, 2006.

Breakfast:

She Who Must Be Obeyed and I played hooky from shul, being that it was Hebrew School Graduation weekend. (We’ve been there, done that, bought the T-shirt and the Souvenir Coffee Mug, thankyouverymuch.) As long as we were home, I got out our trusty Waffle Iron and ran up a small heap of Belgian Waffles, which SWMBO and I consumed happily after slathering them with Grade A butter, pure maple syrup, and even a dab of Marionberry Sauce. I washed my waffles down with lashings of hot coffee - what GuyK calls “jumpstart.”

Luncheon:

Being the Good Husband, I deicided to accompany She Who Must Be Obeyed and our friend Laura Belle to one of the local Shopping Malls. (Don, Laura’s husband, elected to stay home, there to pursue Manly Activities like Goofing Off On The Computer.) After a few hours of dividing my time between (1) watching the ladies try on eighty-seven pairs of shoes, as if they did not already own enough shoes between them to cover the feet of an Army Division, (2) going off on my own for chocolate (Lindt) and camera equipment, and (3) cramming into a department store dressing room with Laura Belle to help the Missus try on a Fancy Brassiere, we decided to hit the Food Court. I found a place that fixed me up a superb Falafel Plate: falafel (“the food that makes you falafel”), tabbouleh, and hummus. It was just like being on the shores of the sun-drenched Mediterranean.

Dinner:

My colleague at the Great Corporate Salt Mine, Irish Tommy, and his lovely wife Ellen, joined us for dinner. We met at our place for a few Preprandial Beverages: Pomegranate Martinis. Here’s how you make your own:

In a shaker half filled with ice, add one jigger vodka, one jigger Pama pomegranate liqueur, a squeeze of lemon juice, and two jiggers Pom pomegranate juice. Shake and strain into a martini glass. Garnish with a strip of lemon peel. Gorgeous...delicious...and deadly.


Pomegranate Martini. Mmmmm, good.

Hors d’oeuvres? Some crackers, hummus, salami, and Brie.

After an hour of gabbing and relaxation, we saddled up and headed out to Stoney River Legendary Steaks. My choice of entrée was the Bone-In Rib-Eye, which was nicely rare in the center and charred on the outside. [Discretion forbids my mentioning the Crab Cake appetizer Tommy and I split.] The caramelized onion mashed potatoes that accompanied my steak were OK - a little on the sweet side for my taste - but the steak more than made up for it. Another Pomegranate Martini to wet the whistle (I was on a roll) and some coffee in lieu of dessert, and you had one very happy Mr. Debonair.

I should not neglect to mention the short glass of Pom juice I had as a nightcap...or the second one I had, dosed with a few discreet drops of Pama. Then, off to bed.

Yes, indeedy: If you cannot be a king, then you can at least try to eat like one. I consider yesterday to have been a Great Success in that regard.

Burp.