My Trick for Free Lunch

I'm all about saving money, especially these days. I accomplish this mostly -- as you've seen in this journal -- by cooking large batches of food to feed me through a week, not eating out for lunch, and bringing home leftovers on the rare times I eat out.

But a lesser-appreciated method of saving a buck while not getting stuck in the PB&J trap can be summed up in one beautiful word: friendship. Making friends with those who work -- and eat -- at the desk next door often results in anything from the rest of their fries, to a few pieces of their gourmet bacon chocolate discovery, to (in my case) full home-cooked meals.

Today, one of the developers on my team brought me homemade lentil soup and some sort of Indian buns made of lentil flour with sides of spicy coriander sauce and a sweeter lentil chickpea sauce. (I think maybe her lentil tree just had a new crop)


If you find yourself wasting away at work, you're probably not well liked and need to sew seeds of harmony ... or just get really rich so people will be nice to you. Though at that point, I guess you can just buy your own food ... but then where's the love?

Ransomers' Demands

The ransomers have made their demands with a final note left in a manila envelope taped to the office fridge. The envelope was addressed to me, so I can now assume that the milk's abduction was not a random crime ... the perpetrators know me.

The list of demands specify delivery of four different payments to various people. And the people are named! However, I cannot assume that these are the responsible parties -- they may be red herrings. Fingerprint and DNA analysis are as yet inconclusive.

Until proven guilty, I have blocked out the names from the accompanying photograph and this copy of their list:

our demands
1 flower to Mrs. ______
1 Heart record to Ms. ______
1 vegan friendly snack to Mr. _____
1 MP3 to Mr. _____ to his liking

all demands must be met by end of day friday. do not force us to take action by failing to comply

I feel I must act soon before they start sending me body parts -- maybe starting with the jug's cap.

It Escalates!

The note I left on the office fridge for the party responsible for drinking all my milk did not go unanswered.

My note from this morning:















The insidious answer posted surreptitiously:



















What else can I do? Here's what I'm replying with:

















*Editor's note: See what happened next.

It was a long (*long*) birthday weekend with much feasting. I'll easily be bringing in my leftovers for lunch through the whole coming week.

Today's entree is Spicy Thai Basil from lunch at Takhrai Thai last Friday (the day I skipped work to go surfing all morning). It wasn't the best I've ever had at that restaurant ... disappointing, considering how good everything else there is. The chicken was overcooked and the sauce relied more on soy sauce and onions to flavor it than the basil and white wine that's probably used to thin the dish. Looks appetizing in my coffee mug under fluorescent office lights, yeah? I'll go back, but I'd skip this dish.

I am still craving the amazing fresh spring rolls we had there though -- laced with wonderfully aromatic mint that tasted like it was fresh-picked from my grandpa's lush garden in Ohio. They were served with some of the best peanut sauce I've had in a long time (and it was warmed for a nice touch). No chance of that dish making it to live again as leftovers.