Can we all agree that it's too stinking hot to turn on the oven? Well, I refuse, so if anyone in my house wants anything hot, it's either going to be nuked or stove-topped. My brother spent the night last night, and when I gave him his lunch options today, he chose a chicken quesadilla. I put it together for him and browned it on the stove. Mmmmm....it smelled mighty delish, so I decided to make myself a modified, smaller version. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I chewed that sucker to death, but somehow, in my pouch, all the tiny tortilla particles must have decided to join back together and form little balls of dough. And I use the term "little" loosely. MF-SOB, we're talking 45 minutes of excruciating pain, followed by waves of nausea and then vomiting up dough balls & dough pellets. While I was grossed out, I couldn't help but be intrigued by the perfectly round and/or cylindrical pellets I coughed up. Lesson learned: Tortillas are now playing for the other team, and are not welcome on my plate.
This weekend, we went to The Magic Castle in Hollywood, for my nephew's birthday. We did the Sunday brunch gig, as this is the only time tykes are allowed in. It's a super fun place, but I must say the weekend nights are better than the day shows. Top notch magicians perform at various venues around the castle, which is a private club built in 1908, for this purpose. They say you have to "know someone who is a member" to get on the guest list, but truth be told, you can also get on the list by reserving a room at the adjacent [not so cheap] Magic Castle Hotel (sort of a racket, if you ask me). Anyway, despite the 'fine dining' billing, the brunch was just average, so I was able to avoid temptation, and stick with some healthier options.