This morning, and well into the afternoon, North Shore collaborated with Alameda on a fine brunch. Breafast is still something that I don't have a complete mastery of--not that I can claim mastery over many other things, if any--but I think Guapo and I did a decent job of getting most of the food ready at the same time. The pancakes were still warm when the bacon was done. The coffee (I finally recovered my espresso machine, so there was cafe con leche) was still hot when the mushroom, shallot and sage frittata came out of the oven. I fried the criminis in some of the bacon fat, which I think made this one of the better egg dishes I've turned out. The quarter bushel of honeybells I bought at the red barn made a great pitcher of oj, too. Mary also brought some vegetarian sausage, which, texturally, was very pleasing. The spices though, were strange. I swear they tasted like patchouli.
I'm struggling to gather all of the details of the meal. There's still a lingering high from the bustello(two people eschewed a car ride and walked home) and the other general goodness. More later, perhaps.