The Little House I Used To Live In

the cottage

Well, periodically.

Flip Cafe would indeed be the best cuisine in town if its chefs weren’t so darned scared of NaCl.

I ordered and omelet with something called “flip potatoes,” which is just hash browns, but they partially steam them somehow so they come out downright fluffy. Or maybe they rice them. I don’t know; there is a quality to these potatoes that are just a bit more luxurious than an eater is accustomed.

The omelet was a spinach and tomato affair topped with pepper jack cheese. It was technically excellent; fluffy, well-folded, the spinach still retained a nice bite. Not to mention: The toast is sliced from a homemade loaf.

The only thing missing was seasoning. Until I picked up the shaker, no sodium had touched my plate.

This might (and that’s a BIG might) be okay for my Mom’s dish, a little dish we like to call “Egg.” I mean, someone who orders scrambled may not be looking for a more seasoned dish and may not mind adjusting with the salt shaker if needed.

An omelet, however, sigh. A little snowing of kosher salt sometime during the cooking would have been helpful.

Despite this overlooked detail, it is safe to say the best plate in the ‘boro these days is Flip. My new goal is to try its lunch offerings.

It was a nice visit, a fine way to cap off my summer. I got to see Auntie and Uncle from Big Bear and got marched all around and up and down the Lake by my Mom. Got to see my Gramma to boot, and I finally got the friggin’ Roku set up for her. Now she can watch Frasier to her heart’s content.

We also took part in the human tradition of driving up to a rock in the ground with a person’s name on it and saying nice things about that person.

the cottage

Yeah, that was a pretty nice week.

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