This is a week of notes to self. Today’s hot tip: do not try eating a sandwich stuffed full of slippery avocado slices while reading a menu outside a fancy pub. The avocado will fall out, bounce off your left breast, left hip, and left foot. This will leave a slimy green trail in embarrassing areas for the rest of the day. It will also detract from your menu-reading experience.
Do you love reading menus too? I’m not the only one – I can’t be. All that potential, flavor combos, two course prix fixe deals that leave you playing a time-honored game: Hmm, appetizer + main or main + dessert?!
Reading menus is something which I’ve taken a new shining two in the last couple of days since the end of the epic gluten-free experiment. (Notice my smooth segue from funny life story to titular blog topic via philosophical discussion of menus? Yeah, I graduated 4th grade a while ago, not to brag or anything. It’s all about transitional sentences.)
Gluten-free was far easier than I ever imagined. Not once – in all honesty – did I feel deprived of something I wanted to eat. We had GF tortilla chips, GF cookies and cake, GF cereal, GF bread (the Philosopher couldn’t tell the difference in a double-blind unrandom controlled trial), GF pasta… I could easily have kept going were it not more of a pain to deal with in public settings. I’ll let the Violinist give you her run-down in her own post.
To celebrate, we decided to try something new that would probably require gluten for success: fritters. I’ve never made fritters, though I have many fond memories of the Chocoholic feasting on them from Dunkin’ Donuts when I was a kid. Apple is perhaps the traditional, but we’ve got blueberries these days so blueberries it was…
The batter was easy as pie. Er, actually, easier than pie.
It was the frittering bit that led us astray. I think I heated the oil too hot because literally 10 seconds after dropping in my first fritter, the room was on fire. Or rather, black smoke was billowing everywhere and I barely rescued the charred fritter from the pan before it exploded. I’d show you a picture but I was too busy shrieking and dodging oil pellets to grab a camera.
Case in point: left-most fritter, good side up. The other ones didn’t burn after I turned the heat down but only spent about 20 seconds in there apiece before they started to blacken. Not enough, sadly, to cook the insides…But they looked good!Added bonus: fried blueberries! Soon to feature at the Texas State Fair, I’m sure.
…because the smoke smell has just about cleared out of my sofa pillows and I’m ready to try again!