Though James Joyce’s Ulysses properly begins with, Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned: —Introibo ad altare Dei . (3) … Continue reading Eating Ulysses. Bloom Balls.
I can’t eat another omelette. Seriously, my first morning in Michigan I digested a Polish Omelette at Lake Breeze Restaurant in Harrison Township, then yesterday morning I polished off a Gyro Omelette at Leo’s Coney Island off Gratiot–six eggs in two days plus mystery meats, cheese and a scattering of vegetables. Look at it! Amazing … Continue reading From Monstrous Omelettes To A Giant Horse To Little Fish And A Dark Night Of The Gut.