Being ill. And wild kitchens.

1.  My nose is running.  It sneaks up on me.  When my nose runs, it feels like my face wet its pants.

2.  The last time I was ill, I saw Besos only one or two times in three weeks because I tend to hole-up when I don’t feel well and am not really comfortable with someone taking care of me.  She more or less told me that that would not be acceptable this time and would I prefer she bring over soup or a break-up kick in the pants?

I chose the soup.

3.  I took pictures at Moto which are forthcoming.  At one point, Chef Cantu asked me, “Have you seen plasma in a microwave?”  I stared back.  He said, “Find a beaker!”  He rushed me to the microwave and propped the beaker upside down on three cups inside.  Then, he placed a bit of what he called plasma inside, under the beaker, within the small triangle of cups.  Mind you, I’d just eaten a bit of that white plasma in the form of a wick on a chocolate bomb that they actually set on fire (picture coming).  He closed the microwave and hit start.  The white bit flashed and flamed repeatedly and Chef Cantu said, “Hotter than the surface of the sun!”

4.  Besos arrived with soup.  She smiled and looked satisfied as I began to eat.  I glanced up and said, “Honey…I am a little self conscious because I have to chew with my mouth open because I can’t breathe through my nose.”

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