Thanks to Amazon, marketman's birthday gift came early (unfortunately they have an expiration date, so we have to eat them before the big day...all 16 of them).
It threatens to snow in San Francisco only once in 20-30 years. And even when it does snow, it occurs in the form of a frosty dusting on the tops of the tallest of the City's many hills. This past Saturday, they were talking about snow on Twin Peaks which happens to be the next hill over from us, so the logical conclusion was that we Forest Hill denizens would wake up to a winter wonderland beyond our front doors. marketman and I had already planned to have 11 of my cousins over for dinner and game night that day, and the menu? A snow day-friendly meal of barbecue.
To our credit, when we made these plans it was a balmy 70 degrees outside -- even our plum tree got tricked into blooming early, and now it's shivering its lovely little blossoms all over our driveway -- so grilling a few whiskey-drizzled pork loins wrapped in bacon seemed like an excellent plan. In the end, no harm, no foul: the sky stayed clear, the temperature never dropped below 50 degrees, and our two little piggies snuggled cozy and warm (and tipsy) over indirect heat.
Tonight: hwe naeng myun, jjajang myun, and jangjorim.
My first job out of college, I got paid $28K a year to be an assistant media planner at Goodby, Silverstein & Partners. They had been hiring like mad that year, so by the time I started, they had run out of cubicles, and my desk was relegated to the hallway just outside the fire exit. Within a few days, I had found this awesome Chinese restaurant that did a killer salted fish and chicken fried rice, so crunched for time one afternoon, I got it to go and eagerly sat down at my sad little desk in the hallway to chow down on one of the only delicacies that $28K a year could buy me. Within minutes, the occupants of the offices around me began sticking their heads out of their doors with looks of disgust scrawled across their faces. "What IS that??!!" one Account Director gasped. "It smells like FEET!" I knew at once that my career in advertising was coming to an abrupt and bitter end. Luckily, the lady next door to him was Chinese, and she ran to my aid, exclaiming "Salted fish? That's my favorite!" My thoughts exactly. So tonight, I pay homage to her for saving my career: