It would appear I’ve erased the photos of our 24 hours in Banff; not sure how I managed this, but I have. It’s amazing what I can accomplish when I’m not even paying attention.
So I can’t even show you the blast from the past photos from our old-school Banff overnighter – we had a sleepover at the Banff Park Lodge last night, and dinner (strawberry margarita and Loco Gringo Salad – hey, it’s tradition) amid snowboarders at Magpie & Stump.
W had his first introduction to chocolate bear claws and Rundle rock (chocolate dipped sponge toffee named after Mt. Rundle) at The Fudgery in the Sundance Mall. (As kids, this was our post-ski stop before the drive back to Calgary or our hotel; my sisters always got candy apples, but I chose fudge or something chocolate-and-caramelly – I wasn’t about to get suckered into fruit on a stick, disguised as chocolate.) M and W spent much of the evening/morning in the pool, and I did a talk to a group of anesthesia residents, who were subjected to listening to me babble and make romesco dip and bean cookies for an hour or so.
But I guess I can tell you about the quickie I made when we got home and I needed some sort of ballast against our breakfast buffet, road coffees and far too much nibbling from the fudge bag. (I did not intend that to be a metaphor for ANYTHING, just to be clear.)
We weren’t much in the mood to eat or cook when we got home, but I needed something – so I skilleted a can of chick peas in hot oil and garlic, much the same way I do roasted chick peas with chard, but quicker, and with a dab of curry paste. I tore in a few sad chard leaves, then topped it with a poached egg, as W had required poached eggs on toast for dinner.
Honestly, it was one of the best things I’ve eaten in awhile.