Food Hangover
May. 13th, 2013 02:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
butterflydreamingIt's one of those Mondays, a morning where I desperately cling to the crumbling ledge of sleep.
I call it a food hangover because that seems to describe it. If I have eaten too many interesting foods, or too much of an unusual thing, I sometimes have a day (morning, anyway) of penance.
It could be that the weekend started with moule frites from our lovely cafe downstairs: a generous serving of mussels in a miso butter sauce. D and I shared a decadent brownie dessert. (He had ginormous shrimp for his entree.) Then Saturday, dim sum at House of Hong with my dad & brother. I arrived late and there was already a lot of food. I didn't think I ate that much, but there were chicken feet and spare ribs, glazed shrimp and other things that usually only happen when I dim sum with my relatives.
After lunch, it was off to L's place for a viewing of "Love Never Dies" -- I will get back to that some other time -- with snacks. I brought spongey rice cakes and pineapple custard buns. I only nibbled over the afternoon and evening, but since this was the domaine of L, we had oceans of tea and refilled cups of sake and Japanese wine. The snack food was sensory affirming, too.
Which brings the food parade to yesterday. Much of the blame must go to my love of Frank's Red Hot and the cold fried chicken of lunch. Dinner happened late. It was a farmers market meal of tricolor pasta with smoked and fresh salmon, dressed with olive oil and diced red bell pepper, served with "jewel box" tiny lettuces and focaccia. And terrible mystery chardonnay of which I had one glass. Neither of us remember buying it. It will serve well as a cooking wine.
I could not get to sleep. I poked about with a tiny bit more writing. At midnight, I made myself hit the sack. Then I just lay there, not feeling sleepy. Recalling dicussion of white noise for sleep, I tried some music.
It did relax me, in spite of the earbuds that wouldn't stay in, but I still couldn't sleep. I switched to Tori Amos The Beekeeper, whose songs turn my mind toward stories, and somewhere in the middle, I found that I had finally started to doze. I was able to drop off to regular sleep, after that.
Dreamful sleep. The dream was vivid earlier this morning, but now it is gone.
It ruins me when I don't get enough sleep. I was in a serious fog all morning. I drank a lot of water, then some coffee. Then it stormed outside like a monsoon. I'm sure that I missed a killer rainbow out there.
I call it a food hangover because that seems to describe it. If I have eaten too many interesting foods, or too much of an unusual thing, I sometimes have a day (morning, anyway) of penance.
It could be that the weekend started with moule frites from our lovely cafe downstairs: a generous serving of mussels in a miso butter sauce. D and I shared a decadent brownie dessert. (He had ginormous shrimp for his entree.) Then Saturday, dim sum at House of Hong with my dad & brother. I arrived late and there was already a lot of food. I didn't think I ate that much, but there were chicken feet and spare ribs, glazed shrimp and other things that usually only happen when I dim sum with my relatives.
After lunch, it was off to L's place for a viewing of "Love Never Dies" -- I will get back to that some other time -- with snacks. I brought spongey rice cakes and pineapple custard buns. I only nibbled over the afternoon and evening, but since this was the domaine of L, we had oceans of tea and refilled cups of sake and Japanese wine. The snack food was sensory affirming, too.
Which brings the food parade to yesterday. Much of the blame must go to my love of Frank's Red Hot and the cold fried chicken of lunch. Dinner happened late. It was a farmers market meal of tricolor pasta with smoked and fresh salmon, dressed with olive oil and diced red bell pepper, served with "jewel box" tiny lettuces and focaccia. And terrible mystery chardonnay of which I had one glass. Neither of us remember buying it. It will serve well as a cooking wine.
I could not get to sleep. I poked about with a tiny bit more writing. At midnight, I made myself hit the sack. Then I just lay there, not feeling sleepy. Recalling dicussion of white noise for sleep, I tried some music.
It did relax me, in spite of the earbuds that wouldn't stay in, but I still couldn't sleep. I switched to Tori Amos The Beekeeper, whose songs turn my mind toward stories, and somewhere in the middle, I found that I had finally started to doze. I was able to drop off to regular sleep, after that.
Dreamful sleep. The dream was vivid earlier this morning, but now it is gone.
It ruins me when I don't get enough sleep. I was in a serious fog all morning. I drank a lot of water, then some coffee. Then it stormed outside like a monsoon. I'm sure that I missed a killer rainbow out there.