There is a particular emotional state best described as fried. It is past tired but not yet burnt. It is an inbetween place. You wish you were burnt because there is less feeling. Second degree burns hurt like hell. Third degree burns, while more life threatening, are painless. In honor of my state of mind, I decided dinner should be theme oriented.
Fried food is not particularly unhealthy. I fried in peanut oil which gets to very high temps without smoking. It is usually WHAT you fry that is unhealthy. I even bought a new Tfal fryer.
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This is so counter to me normal dietary approach. Realize, I ate a dozen bite size prunes and a Clif Bar for breakfast. I am a bit of a coffee snob, so I indulge in half&half, but I eat healthy. I had a small chicken and swiss sandwich on whole wheat with Baked Lays for lunch with water. Then I hit the speed bump of my afternoon. Then I got the setting sun, glare headache, which I shall not whine or complain about, since my friends are mostly buried by snow and ice this evening.
Brains get fried. Nerves get fried. Bodies get fried. Skin gets fried, especially in Florida sunshine. Tonight I fried our dinner. The rule was that it couldn’t be fried, we would not be eating it. Waffle fries, shoestring fries, ham croquettes, tostones, cheese sticks. We also had taquitos and egg rolls queued up, but I put them back in the freezer. I would like to shake my nerve and feelings into the frier basket and lower it into that 375F peanut oil and in 4 minutes have a crispy, crunchy treat with a tangy dipping sauce.
Bon Appetit.