General Tso to the rescue!

Yesterday, I left work promptly at five in search of a new pair of jeans. For whatever reason, it is all but impossible for me to find jeans. Bring on your Seven for All Mankind, your Paper Denim and Cloth. Rock and republic, Blue Cult, Levi’s….doesn’t matter. Seems that my ass will defeat them all. Usually when this happens, I get pissed and end up buying shoes. That didn’t work either yesterday. So I found myself in one of my happy places, buying clothes for M&S.

I mention all of this because by the time my shopping debacle was over, I was a little grumpy. Fortunately, between my laziness and VT’s couch, the perfect remedy was at hand- Chinese food , crappy white wine, and baseball!

What?

Yup. Baseball. We’ll get to that. Chinese food first.

There are no pictures, as you might have noticed, because VT and I (mostly me) inhaled our food. Mr Chen’s is my favorite Chinese place in the entire city, aside from the place in Chinatown that serves beer after hours (for obvious reasons). It’s a holdover from my AU days, when I had Chinese food at least once a week. We usually ordered from some place called Taiwan Cafe, I think. It was decent, but…Mr. Chen’s was a revelation! And it probably extended my lifespan by about 6 years, thanks to the generally healthy and oftentimes organic ingredients.

Our order? General Tso’s Chicken, Lemon Chicken, and a double order of vegetarian spring rolls (mmmmmm.)

As for the baseball, I think my conversion into a slightly-more-than-casual fan is complete. It just feels weird not to have some sort of sports obsession. I mean, am I supposed to be twiddling my thumbs for the next five months? Can’t deal. Our entire meal, I peppered VT with questions:

“I know what ERA stands for, but what does it mean?”
“What about RBI?”
“Why is RBI such a biased stat?”
“Why does Big Papi spit on his gloves?”
“Why do you need a starter, a reliever, and a closer?”
“How many times can you switch pitchers?”
“Who the hell is THAT?”

And on and on.

Check back. I’m also in the process of selecting an English Premier League team. It’s looking good for the Spurs.

simple pleasures

I enjoy cooking, as you might have noticed. However, when it’s just me, I tend towards really
simple things. Usually involving pasta.

Like this:
I went to my grandparents this weekend to chauffeur my grandmother on some errands and report some orchids. I skipped breakfast, and around 1 or 2, after my stomach started gurgling, I though perhaps it would be a good time to eat. I’ve been laid low all weekend by some violent allergies, and in addition to Claritin-D, my other secret weapon against this time of year is spicy food. I dump hot sauce and pepper flakes on everything I eat. Sort of like how my mother likes to have Cosmos when she’s got a cold.

I made some spaghetti, mixed in a little sour cream (had I not been in the suburbs, I would have used creme fraiche or some Greek yogurt), a pat of butter, and a few glugs of olive oil. Dump in a bowl, and sprinkle with red pepper flakes and cheese. Done and done.

Speaking of simple pleasures, VT and I went to the Nats game Sunday. It was a little on the cold side, but still pretty fun. It’s my first official game of the season. Teddy didn’t win the race, but there’s always next time. Plus, he’s a better dancer than runner.

I think Lala’s right, I might be more than a casual baseball fan by the time the summer’s over.

Just what I need in my life, another sports obsession.