caramelized apple grilled cheese

Three things about this sandwich that made me really happy:

1) The fact that it felt like dessert... for lunch. Which it probably was. But I'm still going to call it lunch (hey, whatever I gotta do to get by, right?)

2) How ridiculously easy it was to make. And the small ingredient list, most of which you likely already have sitting in your fridge/pantry as you read this.

3) How gooey and oozy and messy and fun to eat it was.

One thing that made me sad:

The fact that I left my camera at a friend's place and had to rely on my Blackberry to relay how awesome-looking it is to you. Which is falling short. Because it looked really awesome, and only looks somewhat awesome here. Sad face.

friends & truffled brie.

There's something about the act of splurging on a hunk of delicious cheese that brings me a silly amount of happiness. Partially because I really, really enjoy cheese, and partially because it makes me feel preeettty cool to put a little dent in my sad bank account for a slab of the good stuff. Kinda makes me feel like I've really made it in life (ha ha ha). 

tomato & caramelized onion grilled cheese.

I am in a constant inner turmoil over meat. On one hand, I love it and many meals in which it is an instrumental ingredient. Can I picture my life without juicy burgers, tender roast chicken or heaping plates of my nana's sausage-filled stuffing at Thanksgiving and Christmas time? Not easily, no. I'm also a person who cries over touching animal videos and interrupts my own showers to save a centipede who's crawled up our drain, running downstairs with a towel, conditioner-coated hair and a glass to put him outside. And have you seen those things? They aren't even close to cute and fuzzy. 

tomato pie.

This past summer, on a six-week-long backpacking trip through Southeast Asia, I had extremely limited time on the internet. Instead of spending my precious hours in crowded internet cafes updating Facebook or sending long emails to friends and relatives, I wandered the streets, beaches and temples, met people, drank too many buckets and discovered new restaurants and treats. Near the end of the six weeks, though, I was craving comfort food from home. Hard. (Despite their best efforts, a burger and fries doesn't quite taste the same over there - at least in the cheap spots I was eating, where local food is what's good on the menu.)

gjetost.

Chances are you've never heard of Gjetost, and if you're wondering whether or not you've tried it, chances are you haven't. This is definitely not a flavour to be easily forgotten. I was introduced to this Norwegian goat cheese a few months ago at a friend's grandparents' summer home. We'd been driving up to Hornby Island for a weekend of camping and beaching and got very lost along the way - thus, we had to spend a night at her grandparents' place up-island (the laughs about just pitching a tent in the backyard and calling it a weekend were endless.) In the morning, they served toast, fruit and porridge to fuel us for the journey ahead, along with a thin slice of this strange cheese. 

"We tried it last night at our neighbour's place and loved it so much they gave us a hunk. It's a goat cheese but it tastes just like candy," her grandmother informed us as we sat, poised to pop this cheese in our mouths. My initial thought was that "candy" was a strange way to describe a cheese's flavour. Two seconds later, I realized just how spot-on her description was.