Today’s brunch — grilled pb&j. All that talk about peanut butter and grilling was incentive enough.
Plus a cuppa coffee.
And later, I set off the fire alarm.
Here’s what happened. I had a sack of potatoes lying around, so I seasoned ’em, oiled ’em, and threw ’em in the oven.
Twenty minutes later, Liz, Anna and I were running around the apartment screaming “FIRE ALARM” and performing jiu jitsu kicks, flips and punches over chairs to whip open every window and door in sight. Liz then proceeded to run out the porch door, flail her arms, and scream at passersby that our house was destined to burn down. After a significant period of screaming, wailing and flailing, this beauty landed on my plate.
A purple potato! WHAT?!?! No but really it’s wild.
Dinner was a breakfast of sorts — spinach, fingerling (fire-alarm-provoking) taters, black bean salsa, carrots, and an egg.
My apologies to everyone in the tri-state area for screaming “fire” — far too many times than necessary.