Low Point

Part two in the ongoing series Dinner as a Pathetic Failure, wherein Tamalehawk abandons his post as chief food strategist in favor of complete anarchy. In this times, you can find him clattering around the kitchen opening and closing cabinets and snacking haphazardly.

Tonight they dined on a first course of pretzels, crackers, and pickles dipped into cream cheese and honey mustard. Babyhawk ate some olives, grapes, and a granola bar that happened to be in reach. On to the main course, a frozen pizza that Tamalehawk barely had the energy to customize. Dessert, of course, was the plate of remaining blondies reanimated by the power of the microwave.

Out Of Sorts

Some weeknights, Tamalehawk neglects the expected spectacle of a legitimate meal, choosing instead to each eat mangled red pepper strips dipped in ketchup from Babyhawk's tray as he stands over the garbage can. Glamorous, he knows, and worthy of a whole photo spread. Even though dinner was missed opportunity, he thought of all the room he was making for dessert.

He scratched a batch of blondies to fill the dinner-shaped hole in his stomach. Blondies involve a staggering shovel of brown sugar that gives them a golden hue and pronounced praline flavor. Having shattered his glass baking dish ages ago, he reached for the cake round. Circular and sliced, it's kind of like a quiche, so it counts as a square meal.

Search the Skies

Desperate to not mess up the kitchen, eating out of a box topped the roster of possible options. Tamalehawk has a special place in his heart for foods that can be disclosed, dispatched, and devoured in one motion. It's the closest he gets to confronting his blunted hunting instincts - by observing the delivery man from his perch and grappling the sorry quarry in his drawing claws.

This pizza is from Apart, Tamalehawk's default choice for a pie-cut pizza that features a superior sauce-to-cheese-to-crust ratio as well as the persuasive delivery fee of free. One test it always fails: the critical fold and hold, wherein the slice decisively droops down instead of forming a crisp point for convenient consumption.

In Repose

Another vintage image from the halted vault. In addition to being the seminal comfort food, mac and cheese is perfect for experimentation. Impel the bechamel to view new heights with a precise spicing, boldly fold in whatever you're holding, and strew a slew of something crunchy on top - crispy shallots, for example.

Fast forward to tonight, where Tamalehawk balked at a sauce that was turning awful before his eyes. He called a pasta audible, making an emergency bechamel pervaded with bacon essence, garlic, and cheddar. Normally Tamalehawk would toss the lost sauce directly into the trash in a flash a rage, but he instead kept his head and saved it for another adventure.

Carried Away

Unpacking a stacked sack to unleash a Chinese feast is another lesser event that Tamalehawk cherishes, though it is rife with tension. Did the soy coyly deploy? Did lo mein strain through the container, campaigning to stain Tamalehawk's vanes? Quickly egg rolls are controlled, won tons are encroached upon, and fried rice is spliced into a crested nest for the mess of szechuan pork to rest.

Chinese food sometimes gets a bad rap, touted as heavy and hit or miss, but Tamalehawk loves the chance to dot hot mustard on broccoli and rifle through noodles, searching to unearth a squad of peapods. The next day, crouched and scowling at the barren expanse that is his fridge, he's happy to spot a trove of leftovers hiding inside.

Memory Lane

Another journey to spurned half-drafts that lay slack in the tractate. Here he finds himself transported back to mere months after Babyhawk first chirped. Tamalehawk strafed a busy sidewalk wielding this wobbly box of 25 award-winning cupcakes, on his way to a second store in search of icing you could write with, because Southport Grocery only had red or purple and neither of those are pink. Of course, pink comes out about as red as any red ever would, so it was all in vain. But, these are the things you have to do when your Babyhawk deserves the best of everything, including an extra exclamation point.

While her tastes have evolved, she'll still devour a cupcake or cookie (or "deek") with a disturbing precision that makes him proud. Though it's tough to stop from feeding her sweets from his extended wing, her strange affection for string beans seems compensatory.

Deep Cuts

Short on time this week, Tamalehawk took the chance to clean out his unpublished archives. Take these forsaken corncakes, for example, posed and composed hopefully for the photo that would linger languidly as an uncrafted draft for nearly a year.

In truth, Tamalehawk prefers corncakes versus regular pancakes, and abstains from just plain whenever something strange is within wing's reach. Chocolate chips, orange zest, or the pictured slivers of mango, he is always on the hunt for new wonders to behold in the folds of the bowl of batter. Suggestions always welcome.