Truffle-Scented Grilled Onion Onion Truffle Spread

20221106 #breakfastdiary 588, 9°C/clear, 20 min/workout I opened the truffle spread I bought a couple of days ago. It's beautifully smooth — no trace of actual truffle to be found. Checking the label: 5% black truffle oil (0.01% actual truffle). Well, of course. I minced a single shiitake mushroom, sautéed it in a pan, and mixed it with the truffle spread, and honestly, it worked out pretty convincingly. Halve the prettiest onion in the world, then sear it slowly and evenly in a hot pan with olive oil. A moderately small onion works best. Move the onion to a plate and top with the truffle spread I made. Feeling like it needs a bit more, I add chopped perilla leaves. And of course, the finishing touch is pepper, pepper, pepper. #trufflescentedgrilledonion Grief from loss travels through a journey of denial and anger, bargaining and despair, and finally acceptance. At the far end of that long journey, once you reach acceptance, it can feel like everything might return to its place — but that place is already different from where the journey started. I filled the empty space of a truffle-less truffle spread with shiitake mushrooms, but— 20221105 #breakfastdiary 587, 7°C/clear, 24 min/workout In Korean, the verb doesn't come right after the subject — it comes at the very end of the sentence. So when a sentence gets long, the gap between subject and verb widens, and it becomes confusing to tell what's being said about what. That's why, to make Korean easier to follow, you need to insert a verb partway through that clarifies the subject — deliberately narrowing that gap. Which is why it's better to write Korean in short sentences. Yoon Yeo-kyung, Why Should You Write in 'Short Sentences'? Because of How Korean Is Structured