Hi. My name's Carol, and I love food. No, you don't understand. I love food. If I were on the Titanic, I'd be in the galley (kitchen) eating up the chocolate pudding and the roasted quail. I go to most events, activities and parties just for the food. The company and the conversation are secondary. Here, I'll try to document everything that goes into my mouth. Aren't we excited? Oh, hey, are you gonna eat that?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Willows Lodge Room Service Breakfast
Vacation to me is room service, usually breakfast. I picture myself in my white, terrycloth robe, warming my hands on a large mug of coffee, gazing contemplatively out of the sliding glass windows, a tray of wonders on my bed, a lap away.
We capped off our Willows Lodge overnighter this morning with such a breakfast. Okay, the breakfast itself -- omelette for Eddie, toast for James, poached eggs for me -- was mediocre. Slightly burnt toast. Stale, cold potato chunks. MIA salt and pepper we had to retrieve. Tepid, weak French-pressed Starbucks (my fault). Fatty, chunky ham. But fresh-squeezed orange juice!
I usually go for an Eggs Benedict. That's the ultimate vacation breakfast room service food. But I'm trying to lose weight. I supposedly was caught with high blood sugars of a pre-diabetic (I blame the Mint Life Saver). So I went for the safer poached eggs.
Maybe I need another night.