Cranky and I had business in San Francisco on Wednesday, and it was so cold over there, my shoulders instinctively hunched up to chin level. It took a long time for my head and hands to thaw out and I was literally stuttering during our meeting. Then at lunch afterward, I suddenly realized that not only was I not hungry, I felt unwell.
By that time my small bowl of soup had already arrived. Its soothing steam, the microscopic pearls of fat floating on its surface, the comforting tangle of egg threads inside, and the distinctive but delicate smell of pork broth made everything all right. I decided to pass on an entree, but Cranky let me spoon a little rice and chicken from his plate into my empty soup bowl. It was delicious. I'm sorry I missed a real meal at this elegant, understated gem of a place. At least I think it's a gem. I'm going back to find out.
(Pssst: Sam. It starts with an "X" in case you're still dining alphabetically. Xiao Loong, on West Portal.)
However! Today it's not so cold. We even managed to sit out on the patio in the sunshine long enough to get Bean Sprout interested in some homegrown oregano. Those missing bits of leaf are somewhere inside his mouth.
Two months ago I accidentally let the oregano plant dry up in the sun. I thought, "All's not lost; I'll just pull off the leaves and save them."
Well, I've got two observations: 1) That's not the right way to dry herbs. They didn't have any flavor, so I chucked 'em. 2) The plant regenerated! Yay.
This not-so-informative claptrap is brought to you in celebration of Kalyn's Weekend Herb Blogging.