Grande doppio

You don’t need a doppio espresso until you need one real bad.

I needed one real bad before my meetings in Shanghai this morning.

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Lunch, FL 280

We’re flying a little low to keep out of the worst of the Jet Stream turbulence.

The captain need not worry: it has been seven hours since a light breakfast. It’s going to take more than a few bumps to keep me from devouring this airborne spread of Kosher delights.

Goodbye, Beignets

On the way back from Gaviota we pit-stopped at The Cajun Kitchen in Goleta for a breakfast mercifully devoid of windborne clay dust. We rewarded the scouts with beignets.

I tried one, enjoyed it, and decided that I would not feel deprived if it were my last. 

No aspersions on the Cajun Cafe: I have of late, but wherefore I know not, slid quietly into “eat-to-live” mode. Food has become fuel, not fun, and while I still appreciate good food, I don’t give it anywhere as much thought as I used to beyond ensuring that a) I won’t go hungry, and b) I become increasingly Kosher in my habits.

Boring? Maybe. But I don’t think the world will suffer for the lack of one more foodie, and it makes weight management much easier. In the end, I might even live longer.