Here’s what I had for dinner last night. I basically looked around on the counters and chopped up everything that was about to go off and threw it at some olive oil. It was fantastic.

Here is a truck with one of everything on it.

Here are some excellent chicken and waffles from Mack and Dub’s Excellent Chicken and Waffles.

Here is some sweet, sweet New Aesthetic action for you.

There was also a lot of rain, but it was nice to just watch it through the windows. The drive home was also pretty soggy, and we stopped on the other side of Rice Hill, which is always fun.

It was not a disappointment! We were all in pretty desperate straits, me enough so that I ordered a Monte Cristo, which came with a pineapple ring on top. Awesome!  Why don’t more entrees come this way?

In our great wisdom, we also ordered two slices of cream pie to go — a very promising beginning to our Spring Break.

Speaking of things that are orange:

Here is a delicious soup I made on Tuesday.

Here is a tableau from it’s creation.

Here is Yoshi hitting the sauce.

The other exciting (?) innovation was at the coffee cart, where we picked up strong french press — the stir sticks were buckwheat linguini (ahem, uncooked). Oh, Portland.

While we ate (and tried to avoid getting mauled by toddlers and their SUV strollers), we admired the building across the street, and daydreamed about buying it and living on the top floor, with a second apartment converted to an office studio. I would manage it and teach ceramic workshops and write articles for magazines, and J would do something brilliant and computery.

Then we decided to walk over a bridge; we picked the Hawthorne. It’s a good thing we like it, because we were on it for longer than expected — it went up to accommodate a (presumably) very important sailboat.

It was hot.

Sunday, today, we almost didn’t leave the house, but hunger and peanut butter toast fatigue set in, so we went to a second cart, um, grouping or whatever, and had fried fish. Fine cuisine it was not, but satisfying, yes.

P.S. Sadly, I have no pictures to represent the other notable part of our weekend, which was spent spacing out to the Eluvium album over and over and over again.

This is probably the sweetest ice cream that I have ever eaten. There’s something kind of admirable about it in theory, but in practice it’s actually kind of gross.