Hummus on lettuce

Three splotches of tahini.  The first one I made from sesame seeds with their husks.  Heated until they smoked.  Blended.  The husks kept absorbing the oil and water I added, so I accepted its texture  and stopped adding in order to not dilute the taste any further.  Also added lecithin so the ingredients wouldn't separate, like the two store-bought tahini.  My home-made, with husk tahini is 100% superior to the store bought samples. All three went into the the humus

Humus ingredients including extraneous jalapeño peppers

Nearly forgot garlic.  Daubed it with water and microwaved for about 40 seconds. When I opened the microwave door, BLAM! my face was hit with garlic fog.   [Note to self:  don't do that again.] This was to get rid of raw garlic taste and develop some degree of garlicy complexity.  

Blended.

Added balcony tomatoes, because let's face it, I gotta do something with 'em. 

Chickpeas are beans, after all. 

You can cut back on calories, if you're so inclined by using green vegetables, say lettuce or celery, instead of crackers, bread, peta, tortilla, or chips and avoid unnecessary carbohydrates that readily turn to stored body fat.  This plate is high protein, very satisfying, bloataciously filling, and 100% within the Zone™ (Barry Sears).  

Corn meal souffle

I don't even know what I'm doing any more, or what to call things. Here's what I did. 

Cracked two smallish eggs into the immersion blender cup. Whipped them on high into a froth. Added milk, a palm full of coarse corn meal, about a tablespoon of flour, 1/2 teaspoon of baking soda, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, salt, pepper, then a tablespoon of sour cream to activate the baking soda. This gives me three forms of lift: eggs, baking soda, baking powder. So whatever happens, this thing is going to be lifted. Cut a slice of sandwich cheddar into pieces then rolled the stuck together bits in a small amount of flour so they'd suspend in the mixture. This failed. They sank anyway. So did the corn meal bits. My mixture was thin. Dumped it into a buttered dish and put it in the little convection oven then watched it like a box television, rise and spill out. I cracked open the top with a knife to give the foam inside a bigger exit hole so it didn't continue to  spill over one side. It was fun!

See how this differs from a proper well-considered souffle?  Usually, you'd make a sauce containing the egg yolks and fold it into whipped egg whites. Bah!  I didn't bother with any of that.

The breakfast sausage comes in a big fat log. I cut off two thick chunks and smashed them into thin discs between plastic. Sliced half an onion and used it to lift the fond off the pan.

It would have also been better if I took the time to prepare the baking dish with more than just butter so the crusty bits wouldn't have stuck to the dish. 

Omelet, avocado salad

The omelet has ricotta cheese inside with daubs of Sriracha sauce.

The salad is sprinkled with rice vinegar and olive oil.

Typical American fusion of a French egg idea with Italian and Asian ingredients. Some would say bastardization, but those people who would prefer that word over the word fusion are themselves bastards, so there you go. It was delicious, and as easy to make as a bowl of Cocoa Puffs.

You might notice the avocado, tomatoes, sliced leeks, and blackberries. I chose leeks just for a break from onion, scallions, or chives. I rarely have shallots around, although I like them.

The guy at the checkout register didn't know what leeks are. When I told him, I mentioned they were members of the allium genus. 

"Wut?" 

"They're members of the onion family." Changing it a bit unscientifically in order to be understood. He grimaced. 

"They don't look like onions." 

"Au contraire, mon frère. White bulb, however unbulbous, topped with green ensiformis or lanceolata leaves." I thought, but instead said,

"Yeaaaaah."

Because it's important at all times to fit in conversationally, and to take care not to accidentally or carelessly alienate oneself by jumping right in there with useless unproductive pedantry. See? Now, that kind of judgment comes with maturity.

Corn flakes

Cantaloupe and blackberries