brugge frites

I need a new food to love like I need a hole in the head, but here I am, already trying to figure out when I can go to Point Brugge Cafe again. I was there last Saturday, and again today. Everything I have tried is yummy but the Brugge Frites are what I think of first. Cooked twice, in the traditional fashion, and accompanied by basil mayonnaise (which I use very sparingly), they are really worth the trip. The new house is just a couple of blocks away. This could mean trouble.

When I was pregnant with Oliver I wanted peanut butter and jelly all the time, and mac and cheese. Thank goodness for Annie's single serving pouches. Now it's the frites. I always "share" with someone else, though I know I eat more than my share. I have started warning my dining companions in advance but I guess I have an excuse, for a few more months anyway.

I'm starting to feel "my excuse" wiggling around. With my first pregnancy, I didn't know what to expect or when (beyond what the crazy-ass books say). This time, I know too much and every day I feel nothing makes me worry there is something wrong. It's very reassuring, though I suppose it could also just be gas.