Now, before you start thinking I'm being hard on myself, it couldn't have been that bad, didn't we all have moon pie, etc...I would just like to make it clear: The edge of my face used to form a full - 360 degrees strong - circle. In case you missed the full moon this week, my face was similar throughout bits of college and even (gulp) shortly after graduation; round, pale, and shining into the night sky - this was my face (to be read: fah-chay).
I look at pictures of myself at the time and cringe. How did I ever get laid? Should we give a grant to those men? Were they secretly paid by a non-profit organization to buy me a few drinks and show me a good time? A group funded by individuals like myself today? Women who look back on their young adulthood and remember what those few moments of feeling heterosexual and alive did to get us through the sad years? I can only assume it was a privately funded or even government funded (it was the Clinton era) operation. In hindsight, I'm not sure I would've humped me - but a small stipend? Could have pushed my poor ass right over the edge.
Ah, well, either way a few good men were living in New York City in the mid-nineties. They're probably all homosexuals now but, God love them, for awhile they were brave citizens of a Moon Pie loving society.
Tonight I was reminded of how that Moon Pie came to be. At about 9:45pm I was on the verge of collapse. I was driving home after a yoga class (half of which I spent hunched in child's pose because my muscles decided to go on strike), stopped to pick up a medicinal bottle of red at Almor (my favorite wine store in the hood), and then came home to a bit of left over salad and the best meal in the world: egg on toast.
Let's be clear about something: Moon Pie did not form due to a routine egg on toast. Moon Pie was born out of a hearty routine of drinking and late night eating. I used to drink myself into the kind of stupor only a 21 year old considers socially acceptable and then charge into diners at 4:15am to order, "Two eggs over easy with a side of fries and white toast - yeah, and go ahead and butter the toast for me. Thanks." Sometimes I'd have it with a beer (if I was close to home), a Coke (to get me in the cab if I was drifting in Brooklyn/Queens), or water (if I was with a friend who actually needed me to listen and form sentences). And then I'd wake up at noon and have it all over again with coffee and (if I was lucky) a friend.
Tonight I had my egg over medium. I cooked it in olive oil with some red pepper flakes and threw it on a piece of Ezekiel bread (you know, the creepy, hippie bread with quotations from the Bible on it?) and a dusting of cayenne pepper. Oh, and yes, a glass of 2007 Borsao (some sort of cheap, Spanish magica). Not exactly Moon Pie's order but, then again, Moon Pie left town about 9 years ago and hasn't been heard from since. Meanwhile, the egg on toast?
Still going strong.
Final word: get your eggs and toast at home, in a diner, or at a fancy restaurant. Just notice the inevitable bliss that follows. As for wine, please visit my pals at -
Almor Wine and Spirits
7855 Sunset Blvd
Hollywood, CA 90046
323.874.0410
www.almorwines.com
I picked up a 2007 Borsao for about eight dollars that is full of cherry and spice but very light on the tongue (sick! I did just write that...). Best part of Almor? The staff. Go in with a budget and a flavor and they'll point you in the right direction. Do it!
