Tastes Like Chicken

I think I know how Michelangelo felt after completing the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, or Neil Armstrong after becoming the first man to walk on the moon, or Michael Phelps after winning 8 gold medals at the 2008 Olympics.  

I'm convinced that it's the same way I feel about my stuffed Challah French toast at Sabrina's.  How can it possibly be topped?!

And despite what you may think, I'm not out of line comparing that epic meal to one of the world's greatest works of art, the race to the moon, or an unbelievable series of strenuous athletic events because, some people find food to be art and believe it belongs in museums, I ate it before the Russians, and finishing the whole thing was harder than learning the butterfly stroke.  

I rest my case.

But, the Chicken Parmesan sandwich at Greek Lady is still fantastic!  Logan and I nearly always get chicken parm if it's offered at a restaurant because we love it so much, and we agree that this is one of our favorite ones (2 out of 3 MacLeans vote it their favorite chicken parm sandwich, so act now! - I feel like an infomercial.  The Billy Mays of food.  Bleh).

Pure fashion show glamour shot.

Picture the chicken in all of its breadcrumb-crusted elegance clothed in a flowing, red marinara dress bejeweled with sparkling, sequin-esk, grated Parmesan studs strutting down the provolone-carpeted, hoagie roll catwalk with disarming allure.

I hope that was awkward to read because it was SO much fun to write.

I just wonder how suspect I look to people when I'm taking pictures of my food in restaurant during the crowded lunch hours. I felt odd though cause there was this lady who was staring at me the whole time.  Stop creepin' on my food!  I'm working here.

I'm just glad I have friends who aren't weirded out when I pop my camera out from nowhere and start snapping pictures between chewing ginormous bites.  Possibly cause they find it hilarious.  I'm friends with this weird dude who takes pictures of what he's eating so he can write about it.

But in full disclosure, I sometimes pick where I'd like to eat based on where I'd like to take pictures of food.  Truth bomb.

 Another money shot.  Actually me finding the godbite.  Let's play Where's Waldo with this sandwich.  See if you can find where in the last picture this corresponds to...

...middle of the right half of the sandwich.  Just the right amount of crunchy, breaded chicken with plenty of cheese and sauce.  I frequently like the ends of the sandwich but they often tend to be lacking what it takes in the cheesy and saucy departments.

Almost there.  Let's go completely doctor-nerd on this.  Divide alone the sagittal plane and remove the left hemisphere.  There ya go...

Props to Julie for taking this picture and not judging my eccentricities.

...And there it is - along with my patented "dum [sic] happy look."

 Yum.

It's Like A Hallelujah Chorus In My Mouth

I don't even know how to start.

Maybe a picture will help.

Hopefully your keyboard and mouse aren't now completely soaked in drool  - though I would perfectly understand, be totally cool with, and not judge you in the least.

So if you're still with me and not just cruising through the post to look at the rest of the pictures (which I've done at least a dozen times even though I just ate this beast this morning), you may ask, "What is it?"

Turns out it's only the GREATEST BREAKFAST INVENTION EVER!!!  <--If there were more ways to emphasize that without being altogether obnoxious, you can be sure I would have.

If you live in Philadelphia, chances are you  have probably heard of this place.  It's called Sabrina's Cafe.  I'm super jealous that it's so close to Drexel and that they take Drexel's version of dining dollars.  So not fair.  Get with the program Penn! 

But this place has been on my radar for quite a while now, and once second semester senior year rolled about, it received the top spot on the bucket list.  It held that position on quite a few friends' bucket lists too so, as you can see below, we decided to take care of it (though some aren't seniors and decided that getting a head start on their bucket lists wouldn't be a bad idea - can't blame 'em).

Left to Right: Logan, Becca, Julie, Alison, Meryl, Me, Casey, Meifung

I really don't know how I was convinced to take this picture.  You may have experienced a delicious piece of cake or bowl of ice cream calling your name, but...let me tell you...that thing was hollering my first, middle, and last names at the top of its lungs - daddy's coming baby!

And in case you were wondering if it was actually as big as it looked in the first picture, you can see it is.

Funny thing was that there was never a question in my mind about what I was getting.  Every person I know that has gone to Sabrina's for the first time has gotten the Stuffed Challah French Toast.  Before I left this morning I was even scouting out pictures of it online to pump myself up.  Except, there was a fantastic twist in my experience. 

Turns out with Valentine's day being just three days away, they put this bad boy on steroids.  Not just Barry Bonds steroids, but big, hulking, body-builder steroids.  Its description, for your enjoyment: Challah French toast stuffed with a sweet blend of cream cheese, ricotta cheese with Nutella, chocolate chips, strawberry preserves, and shortbread pieces topped with a berry-vanilla syrup. 

WHOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAA BABY!!!!!!

It still gets me pumped.

 You may have heard some people say that breakfast is an excuse for dessert in the morning.  I would hardly consider this an excuse - more like a totally awesome party created solely for the purpose of eating dessert in the morning.

That stuffing in the middle right there was basically cheese cake heaven.

I had to keep taking pictures.  I just wish they could have been in 3D.

This close-up had to be done.  If I were to title this picture, it would be "The Anatomy of Awesome."

 I must say that the journey through just the first half exceeded my wildest expectations.  True, I could have put down my fork and knife at that point fully happy, but there was no way it was happening.  The stomach had no say in the matter.  The taste-buds were intent on victory!  I put on my game face and plowed right on to the second half - it was time to start prepping for the godbite.

I scraped most of the cream cheese and loaded it onto the half I deemed most worthy. You can also see the substantial amount of chocolate chips.

This picture gives all the needed info for planning the godbite.  I put a lot of thought into it.  In case you were wondering, this is the checklist I followed:
1. Determine which side of the French toast has the most cream cheese
2. Make sure this side also has the most chocolate chips
3. Pull out the pieces of strawberry hiding underneath the French toast and place on top of the cream cheese
4. Scoop the remaining strawberry sauce (which I carefully paced myself on to make sure there would be plenty left) on top of the strawberries.
5. Locate and protect powdered sugar reserves lying on the side of the plate to sweep up with the godbite.

And for a better take, here's how it looked. Maneuvered with artful dexterity (if I do say so myself), the godbite made its journey around the edge of the plate through the remaining powdered sugar and into my mouth with minimal, if any, collateral damage on entering.

Oh joyous bliss! Until we meet again!