A Midnight Animal

I had a crazy-delectable midnight meal on Friday...after witnessing the genius of the 18-year-old guitar stud, I needed some serious sustenance. Lucky for me, I was keeping company with 3 guys who like to eat (because that's how I roll) and we found ourselves, at 12:30am, entering the hallowed hall known as Animal.

First off, Animal was packed to the gills. At 12:30am. I requested a table for 4, and the blue-eyed waiter asked if we had a reservation. For dinner. At 12:30am. Needless to say, we did not. However, Ole Blue Eyes scrounged up a table for us, and soon we were in Pork Belly Sandwich, Foie Gras Maple Biscuit, Rib & Poutine heaven. It was NO JOKE. My favorite dish of the night was the Poutine...which is, for the uninitiated, a plate of french fries smothered in oxtail gravy. There is nothing that tastes better at midnight than Poutine. It is messy, it is salty, it is rich, and it is even a little crunchy (French Canada's answer to chili fries.) In short, it is perfect. Especially post-show, in the middle of the night.

I really love eating after midnight...because if you're having a meal in the middle of the night, it means you've been up to something really fun. It's odd--for someone who does not stay up particularly late, I adore 5am diner runs. I love making PB&J and eating it at 1am while in bed with someone cozy. I get giddy scarfing down In-N-Out burger, in the car, after seeing a show. Maybe it's because I do it so rarely...but after-midnight meals are always good meals to me. They feel illicit...like I just shouldn't be eating in the middle of the night. Which just makes the whole thing more fun and novel, rendering me extremely, absurdly, happy. And Friday night was no exception--some fantastic company, some seriously awesome eats, and I am one happy girl.

Some get a kick out of doing hard-core drugs. Some get a kick out of jumping out of planes. I get a kick out of eating between the hours of midnight and 6am.

Life is so good, and so simple, sometimes.