Drinking brandy with dinner cause it seemed like a waste to open up a whole new bottle of wine just for myself. It’s official. I no longer have any weirdness toward the process of cooking meat. Tonight I made chicken thighs. Even as I’m eating them I’m having trouble pinpointing the location of the thighs on a chicken. I was fairly certain the drumsticks were the thighs, I had a conversation to this effect once. But these didn’t look like drumsticks. They also didn’t look like chicken breasts, which my mom said was the least tasty part of a chicken. Chris thought that was ridiculous. I thought I’d see for myself. My conclusion is chicken thighs are too complicated with the fat and the tendons. I do prefer the simplicity of chicken breasts to chicken thighs so even though I’ve barely begun to explore the chicken anatomy I’ve already found an exception to my mother’s rule. She gave me an interesting cooking tip, though, to use with those boring chicken breasts:
Coat both sides of the chicken in a thin layer of honey before frying. It adds a bit of flavor and helps it to brown.
I tried this the other day. Thanks mom.
According to a bottle of ice tea I bought from an asian grocery store, everyone should drink tea because the English do. I am drinking tea incidentally but that is not why. I see no reason to imitate the English.
I’m all moved into my sublet except for a box of books which are still in the trunk of my car. I applied to a tutoring job in San Francisco and got an immediate response. I applied to 3 non-tutoring jobs. Nothing.
I’m on the Stanford payroll, finally. Moving into the city just became a reasonable decision. Also, last night I went to get ice cream at 10:30pm. I walked 2 blocks to Clement St still full of life. I smiled the whole way.
It was my birthday present to myself. The city. My birthday presents from other people consisted of a few bottles of alcohol and a GPS device. That has the potential for an interesting narrative about my life.