sunday, lazy sunday

too lazy for capital letters. too lazy, even, to figure out why this is underlined and change it.

sunday was spent watching a season and a half of "entourage." in order to fuel such a feat of mental endurance, my roommate decided that eggs were in order, fried, over easy. and so it came to pass that sunday morning breakfast was a tidy, no-nonsense affair.

Well, almost no nonsense. You can see here my homefries, my 12-grain toast, my two eggs over easy. Also, there are what appear to be sausage links trying to crawl off my plate. You can credit the inch-worm facade to the fact that they are two halves of a hot Italian sausage. I cut the full link in half and fried them, starting with the break in the casing pinched closed and face down in the pan. The inch-worming started when I rolled them over.
But aside from that deviation from the standard bacon, eggs and potatoes, this was as normal a breakfast as it gets, just good, honest, high-calorie fare to keep the farm hands working through the morning. I didn't have the privilege of plowing anything this Sunday, though, just wearing a deeper groove in our adjustable recliner. It can get quite hot on the recliner, though, so of course there was an ice cream sandwich for dessert.

No, this is not the ice cream sandwich. This is a platano con carnitas from Chuchifritos on 116th street between Lexington and Third Aves. This was a bit of late lunch a little before dinner. We had rustled ourselves from the "Entourage" onslaught inspired by a sudden desire to down a few cans of Sparks. When our quest to find this hipster mead in El Barrio didn't pan out, I settled on this deepfried gloryball as a consolation prize. The insides are mashed plantains and spiced pork wrapped in a thin, doughy pastry and deep fried. They are simply amazing. I can't eat enough of these things. The secret ingredient is likely crack.

Then dinner arrived. Best darn delivery Mexican I've ever had: roasted pork chalupas, which are not like the Taco Bell food item, but more like the oysters on a half shell version of tacos. The chalupa shell, worlds different from the Taco Bell version, is a crispy, shallow dish made from corn meal, pressed into shape on a mold and then deep fried. They are sloppy to eat at first, and, much like training pit bulls, take a firm and steady hand from the start.
Everything about them was fantastic. The pork was expertly roasted, still succulent, even after having been delivered to my apartment door. The fixin's on top were all fresh, lettuce, peppers, a wealth of fresh cilantro, sour cream, and a crumbly white cheese (that the menu claimed was Parmesan, although I think that was an attempt to simplify the menu for gringos unfamiliar with the wealth of cheeses not produced in the U.S. or Europe) and their salsa roja added a great kick to the whole package.

Here you can see the mountain of pork cradled in the chalupa shell. This one I drizzled with the salsa verde, also very good, although I preferred the smoky edge of their salsa roja.

They come in sets of three, but two was well more than enough, especially with the platano con carnitas still working it's way through my stomach, so I still have one of these bad boys sitting in my fridge, waiting for a guest appearance on the lunch menu later this week.