fava beans

I braved the downpouring rain (storm in late May in california is not common, is the next big one coming?) this afternoon to the farmer's market to get some fava beans. I had them earlier this spring on a couple different occasions in restaurants. But right now, they are at their peak, and the price is right (50 cents a pound). Fava is really one of my favorite things to eat. I usually like bold flavors and spices but the earthy yet delicate and clean taste of fava beans is just fucking great. Shit, I should have bought more than two pounds today.

More curly hair

Someone commented that during the week we were in seattle, curly hair was actually the real drunk of the week, not me. I agree with that 100%. I can use the conference as an excuse for not drinking that much, but I am definitely not the drunk I use to be. Although the few days I spend in the northwest after the conference was pretty ugly.....

10 fucking years

After the conference last week, I hungout with some friends in seattle, most of them I knew from UW. Most of these fucks are either married, own a house, have a really good job or the combination of those things. Then I realized it was ten years ago when I started college that I met most of these kids. What the fuck have I done in the last ten years, honestly, not a whole lot. I have not found the love of my life, I certainly don't own a house, and I make less than half what most of my friends make. Well, the logical question would be, do I have any regrets, making the choices that I made during the last ten years. Other than perhaps mistreating some people I knew in the past, I absolutely have no fucking regrets.

(check my friend frank's back yard, it looks like no one has done any work in it in ten years)

good eating

A lot of fucking foodies put shit on their blog about restaurant that they go to and their opinion about it. I don't see myself as a foodie but I love to eat and drink. I don't know if you care to hear what I have to say about some of the places I went to this week while in seattle, but I am going to do it anyway. I said this before, I don't give a fuck what you think.

Palace kitchen is just like what I remembered, solid meal, solid service. Monsoon was good, but nothing special, the best thing was the duck egg noodle. Had lunch at the Rover on friday, other than the creaky floor and the fact that it set me back $250 for lunch for two, it was awesome. Forgot to eat lunch at Matt's in the market (too hung-over), but I am sure it is still great. Shultzy's is as good as ever, especially now that skinny chinese guy with attitude don't work there anymore.

Just read this hilarious article in the Stranger. She cooked two complete meals following recipes from two seattle local food celebrities' cookbook, and compared them (http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=32306). It was really funny, she uses phrases like "motherfucking chili paste". I think I have a crush on this girl. She is probably 250 lbs and a dike, I don't care.

good times

Did a small pub crawl last night in the old U district here in seattle with a combination of old college friends and some kids from graduate school in SF who are in town for the conference. It as a really good time all the way around. Everyone got along well, and everyone got drunk. Of course we all end up at the gyro place at 2:30 in the morning eating gyro on the fucking street. I really miss it here. The only downside of this whole thing was that I did not get to be the drunk of the week for the Stranger magazine, but that is okay. Because I know I was the drunk of the week without having my picture in the paper.

13 lb overweight

Arrived in Seattle last Saturday for the annual ISMRM conference. Like last year, the most interesting part of the trip so far has been just trying to catch the flight. Our flight was at 11am, so I said to the columbian on friday night, after a shot of big big tequila, that he should take a taxi to my place around 9am, so we can get to the SFO by 10. Sounds good, he said. I called his phone like 5 times between 9 and 9:15, of course, no one answered. Disaster strike again. Some quick thinking (it doesn't happen very often with me), I called sideshow bob, columbian's roommate. Sideshow bob end up taking us to the airport, we got there around 10:30, made our flight. But this fucker's luggage was 13 lbs over weight, coming in at 63 lbs. my shit was only 22 lbs. I don't know what the fuck he had in there, but I know it cost him 25 bucks. Good times.