Update: I got into a fight with my netbook in the middle of composing this post. The netbook may have won, but it fights dirty with tactics such as publishing posts prematurely and then shutting everything down to run updates.
I killed a deer...probably.
I was driving to work one morning in early April when it happened. My commute is not like most; instead of four-lane highways, I travel back roads. Rather than fast food restaurants and shopping malls, I see farms and livestock...and deer.
I vaguely recalled seeing pieces flying when I hit him, but I couldn't see any damage from inside the car so I naively thought that perhaps it wasn't so bad. I started driving again, no issues there. Then I pulled into a church parking lot a few hundred yards away to check for damage. The door won't open. Yep, there's damage. So I get out on the passenger side and walk around to find:
Close-up of the grill and hood (and fur, ew!).
And the bumper that got smashed into the fender that got crammed into the door...
Bruce is a Dodge Charger, which I always thought were kind of cool. It was fun to have a powerful car for a little bit. The novelty began to wear off when after a week I still couldn't park the damn thing and I had to drop another $60 on a second tank of gas.
After two weeks and one day one got my Nemo back. I can once again practically park sideways in a parking space again and still be cool. I love my car, and the fuzzy doggie paw print steering wheel cover, too!
April 22, 2011
I had heard of the Monte Cristo sandwich, but I didn't really know what it was. Furthermore, I realized that I couldn't remember ever having noticed one on a menu around Wake County. Though, I must admit that I don't usually pay too much attention to the sandwich sections of menus, especially if there is a Reuben listed near the beginning of the list. I'm a sucker for pretty much anything involving sauerkraut as long as it is not of the Bavarian variety. See shredded brussels sprouts for my opinion of caraway seeds.
In doing internet research around the Triangle in search of the elusive Monte Cristo, I have learned one thing: beware of imitations. Yes, I know regional variation allows for the sandwich to just be fried on the outside. It is even acceptable for the whole thing to just be thrown between a couple slices of French toast. While both of those do sound tasty and might have pleased me previously, I have had the Cadillac and can now never turn back to tamer versions.
I have been ruined forever for anything but the original. I have considered the improbability of powdered sugar on a ham and cheese sandwich and found the contrast delicious. I have delighted in the crisp, fluffy batter encasing soft, fresh bread and its salty, smoky contents. I have dunked in the berry puree until there was but a sad smear of it left in the cup.
Monte Cristo Sandwich - I will have you again, even if I must resort to cooking you myself!