Mystery Bruise & Frititty Attempt

December 5, 2010

I woke up early this morning to get to Beverly Hills for Sherri’s 9am aerobics class at Slimmons.  I was stretching before class started when I noticed something in the mirror – what was that, on my arm?  First I tried to brush it away, like it was dirt or dust, but that didn’t work.  It was a mystery bruise, and it was almost healed – you can’t even really see it very clearly in this photo, but it’s there, on the backside of my lower left arm:

I’ve gotten mystery bruises my whole life.  I suppose I just have a high tolerance for pain, because once a year or so, a nice-sized bruise appears somewhere on my body, and I have no recollection getting hit, injured, attacked, or anything.  My first-ever mystery bruise was the worst one – a saucer-sized bruise on my thigh when I was about 10 that I didn’t even notice until everyone on my swim team pointed it out and asked what had happened.  And I had no idea.

After leaving Slimmons, I picked up my friend Tavi, and we swung by the supermarket, picked up a few things (and I got to introduce Tavi to the many joys that Superior Grocers provides) and headed back to my place and made some brunch.  I attempted a frittata, although I’ve decided I’m now gonna start calling it a frititty.  I like that more, don’t you?

Anyway, I started my frititty by sauteing scallions, green peppers, and broccoli in a skillet.  The broccoli was actually in the form of broccoli slaw, which means it had been cut down into teeny little matchsticks and sold to me in a handy little bag, with a little shredded carrots and red cabbage thrown in for kicks.  After a few minutes of saute action, I added egg beaters and some crumbled up queso fresco (a not-so-unhealthy Mexican cheese – read more about it in this post) and let it cook.  It looked pretty good in the pan (although this photo isn’t the greatest):

When I tried to turn the frititty out onto a plate, though… well, that didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked:

It got burned on the bottom and wasn’t done in the middle.  Good times.  Tavi and I decided enough of it was cooked enough to salvage two good-sized portions, so I didn’t return it to the pan for more cooking.

Tavi, meanwhile, in another pan, sauteed 1/2 an onion, zucchini, and spinach in a little basil-infused olive oil to make a side dish.  I also warmed up a few whole wheat tortillas so we could make little spinach and frititty wraps if we wanted.  All in all, despite a not-so-perfect frititty, we managed to cobble together a pretty appealing plate:

It was good.  Not spectacular.  Not oh-my-god-this-is-the-best-thing-ever.  The frititty was bland.  But it was fun to make and I had a good time trying to make Tavi laugh, which today was borderline cruel, as laughing is painful for Tavi right now, because he had just recently dislocated his rib rehearsing his aerialist act for an upcoming circus.  And no, I did not make any of that up.

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged about trying any new types of fruit or vegetables.  The table queen squash I bought last week is still on my counter, although at the store today, Tavi bought a package of raw peeled sugar cane:

This is the stuff that table sugar comes from, although how it gets from this state to granulated and sealed in little packets at coffeehouses everywhere is, like my bruise, a mystery.  Anyway, Tavi says you can just suck the sweet, sugary juice right out of these things, so I tried one:

It was fibrous and tough, but after gnawing on it for a little bit, juice flowed forth, and it tasted like… sugar!  Surprise!  Here’s what it looked like after I de-juiced it with my mouth:

Now I just gotta figure out what to do with that table queen squash!

Keep it up, David!


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