There is something to be said for easy going days.
I had a rather emotional Friday. No need to go into details…and everything has worked itself out, but by the time I climbed into bed, I was toast.
Luckily, Saturday was stress free. I had an ordinary day at work with an ordinary lunch from Subway.
After work I went to Starbucks for the second time that day. The first trip I got a Grande Nonfat Misto with 1 pump of Pumpkin Spice Syrup. I really liked that combination….not as damaging as a Pumpkin Spice Latte, yet still with a bit of a seasonal feel. I also got an Egg White, Spinach and Feta Wrap. The second trip to Starbucks I tried a tall Eggnog Misto. I typically hate eggnog, as I find it too rich and sweet. I had curiosities about what it would taste like mixed 1:1 with coffee….I kind of liked it!
(Sorry there are no Starbucks pictures, but, well, you know what Starbucks red cups and wraps look like…it was raining…)
While waiting for my Eggnog Misto, my phone rang and Maya informed me that she and her family were heading back into the city. After a bit of back and forth, it was decided that I would head to Glen Park BART station and they would fetch me from there. Fetch me for what, you ask?
For dinner, of course.
I have known Maya since I was 12 (well, there is a debate about this…I claim that I met her when I was in 7th grade and she was in 8th….she claims it was the school year before. In either case, it was the early-mid 90s and a long time ago!). We went to the same middle school, high school, junior college and university. We have spent a lot of time together over the years and when we were younger, I spent a lot of time at her house.
For some reason, when you are a kid, it is always best to stay at someone else’s house. Truth.
Anyway, despite the massive amounts of time I spent with her while growing up, I’ve never eaten her father’s cooking. It seems amazing that I managed not to. I’ve heard tell of these things called “fry jacks” for years. You see, Maya’s father is from Belize and fry jacks are a staple of Belizean cuisine. It’s essentially fried dough….Maya’s mom pointed out its similarities to Native American Fry Bread…and various Latin American countries have a version.
Since Maya was in the country (she now resides in Tokyo), her Dad was frying up a batch, so Maya suggested that I come over and partake.
Since the alternative was me cooking, I decided to go for it.
Well, I wanted to see my friend too, of course.
So here come the fry jacks. My pictures aren’t too good, but I assure you that the meal was quite delicious.
Bowl full of fry jacks. There were plain ones (which is traditional) and the ones right in front were filled with cheese. Let’s face it, I liked the plain ones, but I really liked the cheese ones. Maya’s mom believes that she and Maya’s dad created them. She told Maya to Google it. I chose not to Google it, as I don’t really care either way. I just want to eat them!
Cheese fry jack, beans and a cabbage…slaw? Don’t remember what they called it.
An incredibly tasty night. Hooray for a day that wasn’t stressful. Finally!
What did you do on Saturday?
Edited to add: Just read on a website that the plural of Fry Jack is Fry Jack….so, I would go and correct all of those Fry Jacks…but it’s even in the title. So. Um. Oops.