Frittastic

As some of you may have seen on facebook, I have become obsessed with fritters. I am making fritters a lot, like every other day or so. It started innocently enough with the zucchini/summer squash combo, and I realized while making them that the sky is the limit, pretty much. As long as you follow the fritter formula (shredded veggies + eggs + almond meal/flour + salt and pepper) you are good, similar to working within the confines of the haiku or hotdish concepts. Anyway, I'm all about the fritter. My next batch is going to focus on the root vegetable, possibly a parsnip/beet extravaganza.

Yesterday when I was frying the carrot/sweet potato batch (pretty good, wrong choice of carrot as I purchased shredded instead of shredding my own; lazy, I know, but I paid for it in inconsistency of vegetable media), I was heating the olive oil. I was shirtless. Why? you ask. Because sometimes I don't have a shirt on, I say. It's natural, yo. Anyway, I spotted some butter on the counter and thought I should add it to the olive oil because what could be better than that? Olive oil--delicious; butter--delicious; together--who knows but let's try it. Probably awesome.

I plopped the butter into the already-very-hot oil. It splashed, as one might expect, if one were not vacant mentally as I was at that moment. I swore mightily as splashes burned my abdomen, like three medium-sized drops. That really hurt, and I believe it hurt more because it was caused by dumbness. And now I have three small red circles right next to my Harry Potter tattoo.

Fritters in the oil
Better than my abdomen
Splash splash burn burn ow