mie

spring seems to be on its way, waking me with sun and the sounds of a city where people have started walking the streets again. i'm alone. i have a sunday and no money. in the fridge i have eggs and ham and i'm going to make myself a feast, my favourite brunch - eggs benedict. there's something slightly intimidating about poaching eggs and making hollandaise. nothing i recommend for those sundays when your head is heavy, your feet smelly with noises coming from your belly. even though that might be when you need it.

who was this benedict dude? one version of the story, is that he was a stock broker in new york. one awfully hung over day in 1894, there was absolutely nothing of interest for him at waldorf astoria's extensive menu. so he ordered what his heavy head, smelly feet and rumbling belly desired: toast, bacon, poached eggs and what he called "a hooker of hollandaise". well. the chef was perhaps not a stranger himself to the culinary delights needed to cure a hangover - he was supposedly so impressed about this unusual composition that he put it on the menu with a few, but not unimportant modifications: he switched bacon for ham and toast for english muffin. this last modification brought the sweetness to the course that forever took it away from heavy hang over food to something else. more refined. and one very important offering on many, many brunch menus since then.

my self made brunch was very tasty, accompanied by the new yorker, which seemed like the only appropriate choice. for coffee, i didn't have a single bean in the house, and headed out for coffee at tim wendelboe - his espressoblend is smashing right now, and previous barista champ chris kolbu pulled some excellent shots. my day? perfect!