Midnight Snack. Snack?

Its one in the morning and I am awakened by the grumbling in my stomach and the screaming of my taste buds.  I am definitely having a snack craving.  We've all been there.  Its an occasional yearning for me and it never seems to happen when I go to bed hungry, rather, it happens when I have eaten my fair share of food for the day.  Last night I woke up at 11pm.  I had only been sleeping an hour or so when the urge to stumble squinty eyed into the kitchen and ravage the fridge and pantry for a remedy to cure my food craving. Earlier in the evening I had a great salad and a filling protein drink. I had made Snickerdoodle cookies, only 3 so I wouldn't gorge myself and I froze the remaining dough for later indulgences.  However, my cravings were stronger than the cookie which stared up at me, lonely and single on the plate for which it rested.  I needed something  more, something, well, satisfying.  I kept opening the fridge thinking something would appear magically, you know what I'm talking about.  I only clicked the overhead light of the stove for my late night scurrying.   My contacts were taking there time getting adjusted to my sudden leap out of bed.  I have a few favorites for these moments.  A few food finds that I try to keep stocked in case such an emergency should arise.  The first is ice cream, preferably coffee ice cream.  After opening the freezer door no less than 3 times, it became reality that I had not stocked that option.  I needed more anyway.  I needed salt!

I had some 2 day old Brioche left over from a way too greedy shopping spree at the bakery.  I knew I had cheese but wasn't sure of its pasture.  Digging through the fridge in search of a perfect cheese combo to complete my ingredients for a grilled cheese sandwich, eyes squinted, I only came up with bleu and swiss cheese.  Nope, neither were appetizing this late.  The time clicked by during my search and 11:30pm was now upon me.  A midnight snack was closely reporting for duty.   My craving for a grilled cheese had consumed my mind and for a mere moment, I almost got dressed and ran to the grocery store for the right cheese.   I love my grilled cheese with Gruyere and/or white cheddar and mustard.  I couldn't justify a lazy approach to curb my pangs by using Swiss cheese.  I shut the fridge door, then opened it quickly just to see if perhaps I missed anything.  Nope.  The wilted fennel was still there...alongside eggs...hmmmm, eggs. 

Eureka!!! I love scrambled eggs as a midnight snack.  (Sidenote:  The best eggs on the market are Phil's, unbelievable flavor and the brightest orange/yellow yolk ever.  No, I am not being paid by Phil's to say that, yet).  I pulled the eggs, one at a time, out of their snuggled up, cold container being careful not to drop one.  My cravings were to too strong for a splattered egg on the floor.  I grabbed the milk, some herbs; parsley, thyme and tarragon and the remaining "dash" of grated Romano cheese all out of the fridge and I was set!!.  Ahhh, herbed scrambled eggs, perfect.  I heated my non-stick fry pan, dabbed in a little butter and began to assemble my eggs and herbs.  My eyes had lifted by now.  I scrambled the 3 eggs in a bowl, added salt,pepper and the chopped herbs and a dash of milk.  Ready, set, go!!! Into the  hot pan, the smell immediately filling my nose, mind and stomach.   I prefer my scrambled eggs a bit on the runny side, not soupy, just creamy.  I stirred them as if they were going to be my last meal, ever so careful to create the large sized scrambles I love so much.  Ahhh, the smell.  12am on the dot, I plated my eggs.  Leaning against the kitchen counter I ate with restrain savoring every mouthful.  I was satisfied.  Midnight craving subdued, I headed back to bed.  I tossed and turned until I finally gave in, again, and got up.  I made my coffee, checked my mail, watched the news and sat frustrated that I couldn't get that sleepy feeling back.  At 5am, I thought to myself; "I wonder how many more eggs and herbs are available in my refrigerated section of my kitchen?" And, without much thought, I marched right back and made myself another healthy portion.  So started my day.   

Hush and Slush

Many great things come from the quiet squall of winter.  There is snuggling to a cozy fire, house cleaning and warm cashmere sweaters.  There is also pot roasts and pot pies, homemade hot chocolate and in-home dining.  Also, covering most of the land, is snow.  Its truly amazing how the city can go from green in the spring and summer, to shades of auburn and copper in the fall and then head first into a white wonderland come winter.  Snow, for some, is inconvenient and depressing.  Snow for others means skiing, snowmen and ice skating.  Waking up very early in the morning as I do everyday of the week, I often get the opportunity to sit in the hush of a sky dusting the city with snow.  White and pure as it falls from nowhere, up there; it seems to quiet things down.  As the snow falls, I seldom hear birds chirping, cars screeching or people yelling.  The trees even seem to stand still and accept their icing.   When it snows, its always just cold enough to keep the snow from melting before the ground stops it, but not so cold you aren't able to go outside for a walk and catch a few snowflakes on your tongue or cheek.   My favorite site as the snow walls atop previous resident snow, is the look of things untouched and unblemished.  Foot tracks are covered and all the cars look alike blanketed in the white, heavenly powder.   I have a large window in my kitchen that looks east towards another building.  In between me and the neighboring abodes there is a large space where the snow is able to fall and blur out my view of that building.  As I bake or cook and while its snowing, my tendency to slow down and revel in hand squeezing lemons or mixing pasta batter with my hands is heightened.  Being the favorite room in my house, the kitchen during a snow shower is the hub of all my senses.  The stove is warm, the food is hearty and full bodied and the fruit that perfumes the batters seems much more vibrant.

Now, understandably, the snow melts.  Salt is poured on it from loud oversized trucks and the sun tans it to a slush.  Its this turning point that the beauty of the fresh snow becomes gloom  of brown, impassable, wet globs of distraction.  Cars begin to pass you by throwing muck from its tires onto your pants and coats.  People are hopping in an obstacle course of puddles as they try to avoid making the wrong sinking step into an existing, camouflaged puddle.  The slosh of the city gets louder and louder and the quiet of what began the day becomes the chaos that keeps the city alive.  

Hush or slush; winter seems like a renewal to me.  Its a few months of starting over in a sense.  When everything is living and blooming and hurried during the first 3/4's of the year, the land and we the people are in need of a rest come winter.   I view it as a kind of retreat.  All things become dormant.  The land, trees and animals rest.  People hide and re-nourish.  And, in time, it begins again.  I look forward to Spring this year, but I am not ready to hurry up winter.  I still have a few more roasts to cook and chili's to make.  I also have cupboards to be cleaned and walls to paint.  These are just a few of the things that I need to accomplish so I can enjoy the Spring, the Summer and the Fall without chores and bores.   So, in good  humor, I write to the snow: "Good day snow!! Thank you for the hush. Please don't stay too long into the Spring.  And, be kind to me as I walk sidewalks and drive roads.   I appreciate your momentary presence and look forward to your return long, long, long after Fall has ended".