Table Scraps

I am one of those people who really loves food. Who starts dreaming about tomorrow's dinner as she's eating today's. Who checks sites like Tastespotting and smitten kitchen with the fervor of a porn addict. Who encourages friends to make bacon chocolate chip cookies so she can eat them like a greedy little piglet (thanks again for that, Karen). My boyfriend totally enables this behaviour, and has stated that my enthusiasm for food has changed where he buckles his belt (sorry hun). I can't help it though. That love runs lifelong deep, and my addiction to salt-sugar-fat is well-documented and embraced wholeheartedly.

But there is a dish, called Bombay Poutine, and it has changed my life.

"But Amanda!" you say, "it's cheese curds and fries and butter chicken! It can't be all that life changing!" To which I say, "are you kidding me? It's cheese curds and fries and butter chicken! How could that not be life changing?"

I mean, just look at it.

digital

Look at it, glowing in the sunlight like the ambrosia it is. Seriously, the clouds parted just as I was taking this photo and bathed the dish in a golden light. If that isn't proof of a god*, I don't know what is.

And my claim is not only for the goodness I ate that fateful day at The Local—and don't get me wrong, it was really good. The butter chicken sauce was thick and tangy, with little chunks of peppers and onions and chicken. The fries were crisp and very tasty. And the cheese curds were good, possessing the necessary amount of squeak and acting as the glue holding the whole thing together. I paired it with a pint of KLB Raspberry Wheat and a fresh bowl of edamame, and it felt like such a lovely, harmonious meal (I am so all about global food fusions).

I feel this is life changing because this has opened a whole new realm of food experimentation in my life. The possibilities are infinite. Like, why not serve stew on top of fries and cheese? Why not use my personal favourite, spicy curly fries, as your base? Why not serve with meatballs and marinara, like a crazy spaghetti/meatball sub type monstrosity? Or go greek, using feta cheese and gyros?

The answer to all of these suggestions is of course, and also just wait, tastebuds. You ain't tasted nothing yet.

*hyperbole, obviously.

As a PS, if you were thinking "But Amanda! Didn't you just tell me about some weasel-shit coffee? When are you going to stop posting about things you've eaten?" to which I say, "uhhh, I don't know if this blog is your thing."