Saturday, November 5, 2011


I love birthdays. I love the opportunity to make a complete silly fuss over a friend for an entire day, I love to choose and give presents, I love to make or consume extravagant meals. The following is the dramatic representation of mine and K's quest to celebrate as deliciously as possible. Never underestimate our ability to consume more food than is proper or decent.

(Because my newly found narcissism has completely taken over my life, I was unable to write this post earlier because every time I went to work with the pictures, I was completely distracted by how fucking beautiful we are.)

Completely different but both alike in dignity, our birthday celebrations were lavish and memorable affairs. They were both marathon meals, masterpieces, works of art. Enjoy.

Act I: K Day
Remember September? Yeah me either. But I do remember the day in September where I got dressed up and went to NOLA with my bestie for her birthday, during which we consumed 4 animals I had never eaten before.
Both K and I have had supremely successful meals at NOLA (the crown jewel of the Market Square dining scene IMHO): My successes are a series of lunches, too many of which for me to actually keep track of; hers was a romantic date with her little latin lupe lu. It was a perfectly gorgeous day so we requested to be seated outside where we could enjoy the sunshine.

Scene 1: Appeteasers

We started with a round of drinks and progressed to the first pairing of exotic animals:
Fried alligator in some sort of spicy aioli and frog legs in lemon bacon butter.
The alligator tasted like a chicken that ate a fish before it jumped into the frying pan; the frog legs were tender and smothered in bacon, and therefore perfect.  But this was only the beginning.

Scene 2: Nobody Expects the Flatbread Inquisition

A crawfish and chorizo flatbread. And more drinks. Seriously Fabulous.
Prior to this, the closest I had ever come to crawfish was when a giant one brushed against my leg in Horse Creek at Rockmere. That was frightening. This was delicious.

Scene 3: The Main Event

When we called our overworked waiter back for the grand finale, we pulled out all the stops.

I had stuffed quail, another first for me, with wild rice and cranberry pilaf in a port wine sauce.
You can tell the disection was a little perplexing for me. Worth it.

K went for Seafood Jambalaya, a medley of chicken, chorizo, shrimp, scallops, rice, and magic.
 Look at that smile.

After which we spent an absurd amount of time taking pictures and absolutely enjoying ourselves.

 Because we are old ladies, we went home to snuggle with Bruce after the festivities.  An evening well spent.

Look at all the pretty pictures

We only had to wait one short month before


Did you know that I am Irish and that I love drawing ridiculous parallels? I am and I do. We vacillated for quite a few weeks between going out for my birthday or making something bonkers at home. Eventually we realized that the most logical option for my birthday celebration was to go to the Claddagh Pub for claddagh rings and claddagh (onion) rings. Because that shit is funny to us.
I made an offhand comment to K one day that I dislike claddagh rings because they are tacky and ugly. Just to be contrary, she became determined to prove to me that they could be tasteful and quite beautiful. Only with K is the determination to make me eat my words an endearing quality. Because she knows how much I like eating.

Scene 1: AppeTWOsers?

We conducted the ceremonious exchange of claddagh rings over the cleverly named claddagh rings, which are called onion rings every where else in the universe.

Look how pretty! Rings and Rings.
For those of you counting at home, K and I now have two matching rings. Three if you count the onion rings.

Scene 2: Happiness is a Warm Pie... or two

What do we do when we can't decide between shepherd's pie and chicken pot pie? We order small portions of each and split them. Then everybody wins.

And Magnar's Hard Cider, which we are obviously delighted by.

Scene 3: Mac to the Future

I feel like if we weren't so charming and adorable, our tendency to order several course meals painstakingly slowly would annoy every single waiter/waitress in greater Pittsburgh. We ended with a skillet(?) of bacon mac and cheese, and didn't leave a single bite.
 This one was completed by a platonic sleepover and Bethday cakes for breakfast the next day.

More peektures

Our birthday celebrations were  representative of us, and amalgamations of our favorite things: decadent dishes and spending time with each other.

Not to beat a dead horse or anything but, I love me some Kurishi. She is the yin to my yang. She loves me when I'm mad, or sad, or drunk, or weird, or raucous, or boring. She listens to my nonsense, and talks sense back. She is asleep in the papazan next to me right now.

Happy birthdays to us.

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