Yellow Eggs & Jam

Catch the reference in my title?  I thought I was being clever.  I'm only four days late for Dr. Suess' birthday too.

Just in case you were wondering what sort of oddball mind thinks this way and all those other weird ways about food, I've gotta tell you, I don't have an answer.  Sorry (And in the off chance you don't think it's weird, we should get lunch sometime!  All other diners within hearing perimeter, beware).  But I just recently found this irregular mental architecture of mine has it's origins way back beyond when I was five.  At least that's some of the earliest evidence I have of it.

My grandmother was recently doing some cleaning in her room, walked into the kitchen, said that I might want to take a look at something after which she laid this on the counter and walked out.

Hmmm...ok Grandma.  I'll take a gander at it.  Oh look.  Aw, how cute.  I must've given that to her when I was little.  I was such a sweet little boy.

I was such a weird little boy. 

"...remember all your colors & shapes....remember all the colors in the rainbow"??

Really Ian?

I think my parents' note at the bottom was for fear that my grandmother might think they were in the smallest way responsible for that rather transcendental composition.

Possibly cute for a five-year-old.  Also really funny.  With the color scheme I've got going there, I must've been thinking of Fruit Loops or about the Lucky Charms rainbow or something.

I've been keeping busy over break.  Usually steamy, bubbling, molten concoctions evoke rather hellish imagery.  Not this one though.  I'll possibly have to save a post about this for later.

One of my family's favorite past times is bringing cookies to various places.  It's amazing how many people want to be your friend when you've got cookies.  In high school all the teachers loved my brothers and me because we would frequently bring in a whole tray of homemade cookies.  I think they were sad after Matt graduated not so much because they loved us but since it meant no more Mama Mac's cookies.

But today the roles were reversed.  Being home for spring break, it was my turn to make them for mi madre to bring to school.

Doesn't it look like the the outside of a cavernous, dark hole in the side of a mountain high up in the air, the ground frosted with a light covering of snow that has briefly melted only to freeze in the cool, night air creating a beautifully dangerous landscape that must be negotiated with awed care?  That'd be one cave I wouldn't mind visiting.  If only I could go spelunking in an cookie.  Life would be complete.  I wouldn't even mind getting lost in that cave.  I'd never go hungry!

Despite all temptation and wild daydreams, I wouldn't dare eat these.  Not today.  I'm the kind of thoughtful son who knows that they have another purpose...bribery.

And if I'm not going to eat one, them I'm sure not going to take any chances that someone else may eat one!!

But since this is already a really long post, I'm gonna blow through the main section.  No extravagant dinner or dessert out here.  Simple home-stuff.

 Home-made bread in the toaster.  Can't beat that!

 Eggs....jam....I know where he's going with this...

...jammed toast (is that a real adjective?) served with a nice omelet on the side.

...or is it?

Didn't see that coming did you?  A jam and egg sandwich.  I know people like their cheese and eggs, but believe me, you have to try jam and eggs.  It doesn't seem like that strange a combination to me (then again that's me speaking), but most of the time when I mention it to people, or better yet when they see me eat it, all I get is this really weird face contortion directed right at me. 

Anyway, since I'm constructing this little beauty, the godbite has to be planned from the beginning.  My favorite part of the slice is the crust.  People whine and complain about crusts, and some even cut them off.  But this isn't your pitiful supermarket brand featuring a measly excuse for a crust which is really more of a sad attempt to block you from the ecstasy of the fluffy, white interior.  This crust has real bite and complements the chewy insides.  Thus, you'll notice the heavier loading of jam along the top crust.

Bon appetite!  Give it a try some time.

Knights of the Ice Cream Table

SPRING BREAK! One of the all-time high points of the spring semester and well deserving of a celebration.  Already halfway through the semester!  Sick!

Now I know some people observe this festive occasion by heading down to the beaches of Florida...

...(which got nothing on "da Jersey Sho'."  Just fyi to you crazy people who somehow think the show is a real, true-to-life documentary, umm it's not.  Also, in NJ, we call it the "beach" not the "shore" - except for those from north Jersey who should really just be annexed to NY)...

...or some other really warm place while a few who consider themselves outside the box and creative thinkers head up to the mountains for some skiing (crazy people, what are you smoking!?). 

Me?  I also like to celebrate.  And by celebrate, I mean eat.  And by eat, I mean eat.

Like most spring break plans, I too have been planning mine for quite a while.  A friend was going to pick up my brothers and me and drive us home.  Except!....instead of heading straight home, we were going to drive 30 miles in the opposite direction through rush hour traffic.  What a way to celebrate!  All for this!

This is the Green Knight sundae from the Charcoal Pit in Wilmington, Delaware.  This medley of deliciousness boasts vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, marshmallow fluff, banana slices, walnuts, whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry. 

Notice how it's overflowing the sides of the gigantic goblet - a goblet by reason of its ridiculous size and the fact that the name of this sundae hearkens back to the medieval days of chivalry - and puddling at the bottom.

My heart went out to the waitress.  Her hands were covered with the fudge, marshmallow fluff, and melting ice cream that was dripping down the sides, and then she washed it off.  How can you not lick your fingers!!?  Poor girl.

Oh majestic mountain of marvel!  How dost I love thee!

Ever felt the need to break out into some good, old, Old English after reading about King Arthur's knight's?

I really wasn't as excited about the break aspect of spring break as much as I was for the opportunity to devour this beast.

Every knight needs his sword, and this Green Knight sundae comes with its own.  It is not for the faint of heart nor the weak of arm to wield such a weapon.  It's balance, perfect.  It's design, flawless.  Long enough to pierce deep into the flesh of the ice cream beast and slay him where he stands and yet strong enough to withstand the fierce battle that must precede such victory.

This dessert has a second bonus in addition to just tasting great.  It requires skill, planning, and an intimate understanding of physics to eat.  Notice that primordial soup of chocolate and vanilla gathering at the bottom.  Resorting to the traditional method of carving out a spoonful with a downward sweeping motion results in swelling sea of chilled cream that threatens to break the boundaries of the goblet.  Care, delicacy, and patience - that's the ticket.

Finally beyond the danger zone...

...and down to the godbite...errr "godslurp."

Mission complete.

And the crazy thing about the Charcoal Pit is that the sundaes aren't the only outstanding thing on the menu.  In fact, this place is probably better known for their milkshakes.  These are no Mickey D's, weird colored shakes.  They are premium shakes made with real ice cream.  Go to the Charcoal Pic, get a shake (or two), and finish off your meal with a sundae - it's all part of a healthy and well-balanced diet.

Get "Real"

So what does the phrase, "get real" actually mean?  I never really completely understood it.  It comes off as a bit condescending and stuff.  Are you calling the guy a fake or something?  I doubt it cause that doesn't seem to be how it's used.  (Kinda like, "dude you're such a fake, you're almost like a mannequin.)  Is it an androgynous version of "man-up"?  Possibly?...but unlikely.  Is it telling a person to quit their daydreaming?  Better not or I'm going to have series issues now because I like to spend my free time daydreaming....about food...j/k...but only kinda j/k...I do daydream, about real things, occasionally.

Or, perhaps it's a simple affirmation of the superiority of real things over fake things.  That makes sense, right?  Like real fruit over wax fruit, real corn over candy corn (did you know candy corn actually has wax in it? No joke. Take a look at what the all-knowing authority has to say about it.), and real dogs over fake dogs.  Unless you're "I can't believe it's not butter," you haven't a shot over the real thing.  <--so dramatic, that commercial.

But anyways, I combined the real and the fake all into one today - I ate candy corn and real corn at the same time. 

Actually, I had what I affectionately know as American-Chinese food (fake Chinese food).  Ya know deep-fried chicken and fried rice with that marvelously sticky-sweet sauce goobed all over it.  The kind of food where it doesn't matter whether you order General Tso's chicken, Sesame chicken, Grandmother's chicken, or just-make-up-any-name chicken because it all pretty much tastes the same.  Oh yeah, I love that stuff to death.

So what about it was real you ask?  Well, I got it form the food truck called the Real Le Ahn, as opposed to the one right next to it named Le Ahn.  Not sure what the story is behind those names but I'm sure it's a good one.

Whenever I see these bags I always think they stole them from Walmart. 

Couldn't wait to open it.  Notice I kept the bag underneath.  It's packed so jam full and there's so much of that heavenly, heart-clogging sauce that some came out of the sides.  BUT, messy is good.  You know a man had a good meal when he's wearing half of it on his face - unless he was on a date because in that case he was probably only on a date for less than half of the meal.

Take a gander at that.

You just go ahead and tell me that isn't one attractive looking serving of sesame chicken and fried rice in a Styrofoam dish!  Forget those decorative garnishes and square plates! *psh*

Personally, however, I believe it's a bit of a waste to have a boat of sauce sitting on one end while the chicken and fried rice at the other are missing out. 

Ev'ry ones invited to the party!

And though the veggies are nice and all, they're not the reason I eat this.

It's all about the fried chicken and fried rice.  You be looking at the godbite right there.

To describe it, I'll use another phrase that I'm not completely sure I get but that I feel is apropos...    

...It was real.

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!