cooking, come hanger or high water

Joe thinks that runny, fried eggs are one of the most beautiful foods ever, and I have to say I agree with him. Look at that.

The day of the flood I decided that I needed to cook dinner for myself, and that it needed to be Orangette's boiled kale with fried egg and Ezra Pound Cake's chai-apple pie coffee cake. My trip to the DeKalb Farmer's Market for ingredients was technically a bit ill-advised, and I actually messed up both of the recipes (did not cook the kale long enough, had to double the baking powder in the cake because I had no baking soda), and I hadn't had a good snack so I was kind of panicked and hangry by the time it was all done—well after Gossip Girl, which I'd planned to watch while face-stuffing my spoils—but it all turned out quite great, actually.

Except that I woke up feeling sick the next morning. Cold-sick, not food-poisoning-sick, so I know I didn't poison myself or anything, but I don't like that apparent cause-and-effect. However, one could surely do worse than being left with nothing to eat from one's sickbed except this stuff. (Pound of butter? What pound of butter?)

At any rate, I recommend both recipes and I can't wait til it's Really Actually Fall so that I can enjoy them without that nagging feeling of it actually being 80 degrees outside. Still. Wugh.