Sunday, January 31, 2010

you kinda beat the shit out of me last night

Still up to the same thing. Yesterday, I purchased the most meat in one trip in my recent memory: six pig's hearts, a pound of beef tripe, pork neckbones, a slab of bacon, a pound of fresh chorizo, a pound of blood sausage, and a lot of chicken necks and backs.

Yesterday was offal day. It was also wassail and rum day and bullshittin' with your friends day, a weekly winter event I never tire of. It really feels good to be hanging out with a group of people in this city that is collectively grandfathered in with every butcher, cheese counter employee, or barista worth visiting.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

.

Hangover season seems to be over. The holidays, as much as I regret to admit, are just one big excuse to drink, especially if you're an atheist. Wassail, egg nog, seasonal beers, and getting booze for Christmas have all contributed to a light haze that is still interfering with my yuletide memory.

They're also a good excuse to eat. We actually managed to get pretty professional with our dinners in December, creating a recipe involving a pork loin, a lot of bacon and butcher's twine, and three or four heads' worth of garlic confit. I bought an entire half of a lamb with a friend, braised a shank with clementines and a lot of sage, made chili, ate a lot of chops, etc. I can't really complain about any of that. I also showed up to the old restaurant about 15 seconds before midnight on New Year's Eve.

2009 was a really great mess. I managed to work a full year at a nine to five office job and not lose it; I sustained only minor injuries, related, as usual, to arm wrestling and cycling; and I also moved again, to the seventh place I've lived in Pittsburgh in the past four and a half years. I live with three of my good friends now, in a very large house in East Liberty that I've spent a lot of hours fixing up. It feels good to live with other people again. It also feels good to turn a creaking hellhole into a really nice place to live with a lot of paint, spackle and tools. Maybe remodeling is my next career.

I probably rode a good 3,000 miles, maybe a little less. Moving has doubled my commute--I ride six miles to work and six miles back five days a week--so assuming I stay in the medical biz this year I'll ride 3,000 just commuting. Honestly, I feel pretty damn smug about doing that on a 38 year-old red bicycle that doesn't coast.

I feel 45, post-mid-life crisis. Like I've finally learned how to be friends with people.