Skip to main content

Birthday brunch

It was my birthday, so I made myself some brunch. I don't like to make a big to-do about my birthday because it's generally a reminder to myself that another year has gone by that I haven't felt like I've accomplished anything in my life. It's a thing. Don't worry about it.
I picked up some salmon fillets at the store the other day, so I decided to bust one of them out for my celebration. I covered it in extra virgin olive oil, seasoned both sides with salt and black pepper, and broiled it on high for about 6 or so minutes.
My veggie bowls, starting at the top and going clockwise:
  1. Sliced endive and julienned radish
  2. Thinly sliced yellow onion and a basil leaf
  3. Sliced baby bella mushroom, diced orange bell pepper, and slivered garlic
  4. Minced basil, minced parsley, minced garlic, and grated parmesan
I lightly sautéed bowl 1 for a minute, then dumped in bowl 2 until the mushrooms were just starting to soften, then it came off the heat. While that was going (and the fish was broiling), I went ahead and poached an egg, too, because I finally got that to work.
I added some extra virgin olive oil to bowl #4 for a nice basil and parsley pesto, then spooned a couple circles onto my plate, then I bisected the salmon and laid a piece of each onto those pesto circles.
The poached egg went into one corner with a light dusting of cracked black pepper and a basil leaf; I spooned the veggies into the opposite corner. For the last touch, I left the onion strips on top of the salmon. It was a delicious, light meal, and it really hit the spot.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I don't understand food

Part 1 the morning after, while eating a sausage, egg, and cheese everything bagel from Bergen Bagels Last night, I had the pleasure, privilege, and audacity to eat at a Brooklyn restaurant named Aska . I know it's cliche to refer to a fancy restaurant meal as a life-changing experience, but this was straight up paradigm-shattering. I've written before about food being a medium of communication, about how I strive to reduce food waste as much as I can, about sharing our cultures and stories with each other through the meals we create, but seeing how Chef Fredrik Berselius is able to do this at such an intricate, elegant, and elevated level is both humbling and inspiring. The experience started before the first bite. I walked into the 10 table restaurant, and they knew me by name. I was shown to my table (right in the middle of the place, looking directly into the open kitchen), and they even pulled my chair out for me and pushed it up under me. I was a little uncomfortable with...
Post a Comment
Read more

Perspective

 I used to drive a 1986 pickup truck that was a heap of trouble on wheels. Mind you, I learned to drive in 2002. That piece of shit loved to just, you know, die. In the middle of intersections. While turning onto side streets. While accelerating from a stop sign. While braking for a stop sign. While cranking. It just died whenever it felt like it. It had AM radio and hand crank windows. That's literally it. No FM, no AC or heat. There were seatbelts for 2 of the 3 seats. I fucking hated that truck. On the other hand, it was my truck. I drove it to church, to work, and to the library; that was as far as I was allowed to take it, and I took it all of those places. I remember the first time I got it to idle while parked. I remember singing "The Prayer" over its dying engine multiple times. I think my younger brother probably has some flashbacks of some of those moments. But, as old, beaten up, shitty, annoying, and objectively terrible as it was, it sure was nice to have it ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Why not give a shit?

About a month ago, I cooked up a big pot of a miso vegan stew. It was a Sunday evening, so I knew I needed to cook enough for Sunday night dinner and Monday's lunch. A vendor was taking us out for dinner on Monday, so I needed enough to cover Tuesday's lunch, too. I had plans with a friend on Tuesday night, so I wouldn't have time to cook, so I needed enough for Tuesday dinner and Wednesday lunch, too, so I said, and I quote, "Fuck it. I'll just cook enough for the week." Unfortunately, as I packed away my leftovers that night, I realized that I cooked enough for a week and a half. Normally, that wouldn't be a huge issue, except that I was leaving town Friday morning and wouldn't be back until Monday evening and did not have room in my freezer to store more than a bowl. Luckily, I was able to pawn a few bowls off on coworkers, so it all worked out alright. However, when I told this story to someone close to me, they said I should think about donating t...
1 comment
Read more