Most refreshing cocktail ever conceived

I'm drinking this as I type, and it's lush as Eden. Goes down a little too easily, to be frank.

In a pint glass add:
juice of 1 sweet, ripe grapefuit
several splashes of gin
top up with tonic water.
Drink like it's goin' outta style.


Now it needs a name! Suggestions in the usual place.

The next time you're making squash soup

or pumpkin soup or soup of that ilk, lob a generous splash of scotch in it, along with a dash of either ginger or cinnamon. Something about the smokiness of the scotch and the sweetness of the squash just works. Oh man does it work! Bubble it for a few minutes until the alcohol cooks off, and serve it with a squirt of cream.

Do it. Do it now.

Detailed instructions:

Ingredients:

1 large butternut squash/sugar pumpkin/other orange cucurbita
4 Tbs olive oil
cracked pepper
2-3 cups chicken stock or 2 oxo chicken bullion cubes
1/2 tsp cinnamon OR 1/2 tsp ginger (if you want to use both, make a fucking pumpkin pie)
1/4 cup good scotch (if you wouldn't drink it, don't cook with it you Philistine)*
single cream or half-and-half to taste

What to do:

• Cut the cucurbita in half, scoop out the seeds, cover cut side with oil, sprinkle with cracked pepper, and put face down on a foil-lined baking sheet. Bake at 350 F (175 C) until the skin is brown, shiny, and bubbling off the flesh.
• Remove from oven, allow to cool, and scoop out flesh. Discard skin.
• Whiz flesh through a blender with the chicken stock (this will probably take you 2 batches, depending on the corpulence of your chosen cucurbita). The texture should be nice and smooth, but a little thicker than you would want your soup to be. You still have the whisky and cream to add, remember.
• Pour in saucepan, add spice and whiskey. Bubble for a few minutes until alcohol is cooked off. Or not.
• Ladel out a bowl, add a splash of cream,** swirl it with your spoon so it looks like a photo in a cookbook, and eat it. You will like it. It is good.

If you really want to show off to your friends at a dinner party, toast the pumpkin seeds after you've removed them and save them for garish, sprinkling them on the surface of the soup right before you serve it. Your friends will hate you.




*my feeble attempt at imitating First Nation's delightful abusive cooking instruction

** Don't add the cream until you are ready to serve it. Leftovers keep much better in the fridge or freezer if you haven't added the cream yet.

L'il libation

Okay, I know I'm not supposed to be drinking any alchy-hol between now and Henley, but it turns out that cranberry juice with rum in it is really good. Really really good. Really really really good.

So I've decided that the benefits of the muscle-relaxing property of the rum (very good for my back) outweigh the detriments of the dehydrating effect. This is purely medicinal people, keep up now.

All this glorious concoction lacks is a proper name. Suggestions in the comments box. Best suggestion gets, i dunno, my undying admiration or some equally worthless shit. If there's already a name for rum and cranberry, I don't want to know about it.

Photo of cranberry juice with no rum. This makes Ceiling Kitten cry.

Like beans on toast, only without the beans

Here's a neat little recipe for those of you in search of more interesting things to do for lunch. I got this from the Good Flatmate. Lovely Welsh bloke.

Rosemary Mushroom Thing

Mushrooms, in chunks
Cherry tomatoes, in half (or regular tomatoes in chunks)
rosemary (fresh or dried)
cream cheese
substrate*

Splash a couple tablespoons of olive oil in a small pan, and heat it up.
Throw in the 'shrooms, 'maters, and rosemary. Sizzle until everything is a bit soft and sloppy.
Add a couple teaspoons of cream cheese, and mix until smooth and melted.
Pour over substrate and enjoy.

*I use rye toast, which is lovely. Good Housemate uses pasta. Rice and baked potato would also work well I expect.

Baking disaster

Did I tell you about the 2-fold baking disaster I endured while attempting to create the Pirate's birthday cake? No? Well let me tell you about it now. I would love to know if any of you have experienced similar problems, because I am completely flummoxed by what went wrong, and I really want to try this recipe again.

The recipe was for an orange cake with white chocolate frosting. Sounds tasty, yes? I thought so too.

It was an odd recipe. There were no leaveners in the batter. Rather, the butter and suger were creamed together, then egg yolks, flour, and fresh squeezed orange juice added. The loftiness off the sponge was meant to come from the egg whites, which were beaten in to a meraingue and then folded in to the batter.

At least, that was how it was supposed to work. Here's the odd bit: I could't get the egg whites to beat stiff. I've made meraingue dozens of times before, but for some reason on this occasion I could not get those little puppies stiff. They just got all foamy, but stayed very wet and soupy. That was the strangest thing I'd ever seen... until I tried to make the frosting.

The frosting called for melting some white chocolate and folding it in to some creme fraiche. Except the chocolate wouldn't melt. I kid you not. I was using Green & Black's white chocolate, and I put it in a double-boiler so as not to over-heat it, but it wouldn't melt! It got all pasty, like mashed potatoes. I thought maybe there was some wierd additive in the chocolate, so I tried again with another brand, Nestle Milky Bar. Same result. I mean dude, WTF???

I wound up beating the creme fraiche stiff with some powdered sugar and a touch of nutmeg and just using that for the frosting. And actually, it was marvelous. So good, in fact, I'm going to do the same for my wedding cake. But I still want to know why my white chocolate wouldn't melt. Damndest this I ever saw.

Has anyone else ever had these problems? I'm baffled.

Tasty snack (and so simple even Ziggy could do it)

5 ingredients (6 if you count the oil as an ingredient, which i never do):

2 Tbs olive oil
2 cloves garlic, smashed
1/2 can chopped tomatoes
dozen or so fresh basil leaves, coarsely chopped
2 big handfuls baby spinach
1 egg

• Heat oil in shallow pan
• Add garlic, sizzle 1 minute
• Add tomatoes, basil, simmer on med-high until tomatoes are thick and much water is gone (about 5 mins)
• Add spinach, stir until all spinach is wilted.
• Dump into serving bowl
• Add 1 more Tbs oil to pan, heat, and add egg.
• Fry egg (I like my yolks runny.)
• Slide egg on to spinach/tomato stuff in bowl.
• Eat (remember to blow first, it's hot.)

So there I was thinking, If eggs and spinach go well together, and eggs and tomato go well together, and spinach and tomato go well together, how bad can this be???

Answer: not at all. In fact, it's awesome. The vitamin C in the tomato helps your body to get the most out of the egg, the egg is full of protein and vitamin E, the spinach is full of iron, and the oil and garlic are both good for your heart. This is the most nutritious thing you will ever eat! And if you want to make it a full meal, dump it over some pasta and *boom* Robert's your father's brother.

You're welcome.

Get your fix here

Check this out, yo: Mental Excrement is the NUMBER 1 HIT on a Google search for "ingredients in heroine." Excellent.

Cheesy Veggie Chowdah

UPDATE: i just noticed that i said to simmer the chowder for 3-5 minutes. that should be 35 minutes!!! if you've already copied the recipe down, make that change!

I didn't make this recipe up, and I don't remember where I copied it from (probably my mom's 101 things to do with cheese cookbook from 1974). So if whoever invented this recipe is reading this, I'm not taking credit, and I'd cite you but I don't know who you are.

Ingreds:

3 Tbs butter
1 large onion, finely chopped so your boyfriend doesn't know it's in there
1 large leek, chopped
4 cloves garlic, smashed
2 Tbs flour
6 cups vetable or fish broth or water, hot
3 carrots, sliced
2 celery stalks, sliced
1 fennel bulb, diced
1 large potato, peeled and diced
several sprigs fresh thyme
5-6 bay leaves
1 2/2 cups light cream (single cream to you brits)
2 1/2 cups really sharp cheddar cheese, grated

To make:

• Melt butter on med-low heat in a very large pot
• Add onion, leek, garlic. cook gently for 5 mins until translucent. do not brown.
• Add flour, mix well with butter until all flour is incorporated and covers onion and leek like sticky paste
• Increase heat under pot to high
• Add a little of the hot broth and boil, stirring constantly. continue adding the broth in small increments, making sure the soup boils in between and all the previous addition is completely incorporated before adding more. (This is to ensure that the chowder is thick at the end process and the butter doesn't separate out.)
• Add all the remaining ingredients except the cream and cheese.
• Reduce heat back to med-low, cover, and simmer for 35 mins, stirring occassionally.
• Remove thyme sprigs and bay leaves.
• Stir in cream. Simmer very low for 5 mins. Do not boil.

At this point you have 2 options. If you are serving the whole lot straight away (serves 6 generously) you can slowly add the grated cheese and incorporate it into the soup. If you are only serving a portion of it and want to keep the rest in the fridge for leftovers, ladel out the portion you are serving and sprinkle the cheese on top, in the individual bowls. This is becuase once you add the cheese the chowder doesn't keep well. It makes the texture all gross. So only add cheese to the quantity that will be eaten right away.

Serve this chowder hot with a crust of good, solid bread and glass of malty beer.

Tips: becuase this is such a simple recipe (really, it is. You only need one pot and the whole thing takes less than an hour start to finish), the outcome depends largely upon the quality of the ingredients. It is well worth it to go to a good organic grocery store and buy a block of organic cheddar that still has veins of mould through it. That is how cheese should be, and it will make a huge difference to your finished product. It is also well worth keeping a small pot of fresh tyme on your windowsill. Dried thyme doesn't have nearly the flavor, and you can't remove it after because it's in powder form, so it destroys the nice pure, creamy appearance of the chowder. And if you eat this chowder with stay-fresher-longer extra-sodiumbenzoate bread I will personally come and bludgeon you with a turnip.

Enjoy.

Tex Mex Brekkie

Get involved with this, peeps:

1 onion bagel
1 egg
sharp cheddar cheese
salsa

• toast bagel
• grate cheese
• put cheese on bagel
• fry egg
• put salsa on egg
• put egg in bagel
• eat

seriously good breakfast. and the tomatoes in the salsa give you the vitamin C you need to get the most nutritional value out of the egg. mmmm.

The Scone Also Rises

Pirate is coming home late tonight, and I will see him tomorrow morning. He's been gone for two weeks, and so will have no food in the house when I rock up to his place. Ergo, there needs be baking.

Thanks to Hendrix Cat I have a fabulous new recipe for treacle (molasses) scones. I've been living in England for a total of 2 1/2 years, and have spent the entire time complaining that I couldn't buy molasses anywhere. Then I get this recipe, go to the store, ask the clerk where the treacle is (having no idea what it is), get it home, open it, and voila! It's molasses! Who knew. Damn transAntlantic language breakdowns. Anyway, here's a picture of them:



"And I beheld when he had opened the sixt seale, and loe, there was a great earthquake, and the Sunne became blacke as sackecloth of haire, and the Moone became as blood."
-- Revelation, 6:12



Tonight there was a total lunar eclipse. We were priveledged to see it, not only because it's such a rare occurance, but because this is the first clear night we've had in months. Stargazing is not a popular past time in England for obvious meteorological reasons.

It was beautiful. I've never seen one before. I had no idea the moon would be so red. Now I understand that verse from Revelation. One can only imgane what the ancients must have felt when they saw the moon darkening, disappearing in the sky before their eyes, and emitting that erie, garnet glow. No wonder they thought the world was about to end.

B-A-N-A-N-A-S! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!

Go! Bananas! Go, go bananas!
You lean to the left
And you lean to the right
Then you peel down the middle
And you *HUH!* (pelvic thrust) TAKE A BITE!


The Pirate and I had a little superbowl party all our own this weeknd (that was the most anticlimatic Superbowl I've ever seen. The most exciting 60 seconds of the game was the kickoff and return.) Turns out he does get ITV1, so we bought some junk food and hunkered down for the night.

I noticed that his housemate, who was gone for the weekend, had left behind a bunch of bananas that were rapidly becoming inedible. They had reached the point of being useful for [say in Sean Connery voice] one thing only: banana bread.

You know I'm fairly handy in the kitchen. (Or you should. Come on over and let me cook for you.) But this was an unfamiliar kitchen, with no comfy recipe box containing all my secrets, and almost no ingredients. There was no baking powder, but the flour was self-raising and not plain. I'm not used to working with self-raising flour, and I had no idea if the leveners contained in it were the right proportions for my needs. Also, there were no eggs, no butter, no vanilla, no rum, no nuts, and no brown sugar. Oh, and no loaf pan. (Bloody bachelors.) So how exactly did I intend to make banana bread? Improvization.

It wound up being more of a cake than bread, but it was so good I decided that you could do it as a layer cake and cover it with buttercream or cream cheese frosting. I'm seriously contemplating that for the P's birthday, and decorating it with yellow roses and dried banana chips. Wouldn't that be yummy?

Ok enough dithering. Here's the recipe: (and I can honestly say that this is my first original baking recipe, hence the pride):


3 large or 4 small uber-ripe bananas (more brown than yellow, really really soft)
3 Tablespoons butter, soft, or marjarine
plain yogurt, a generous blob, approx. 1/3 cup
milk, a splash. your guess is as good as mine.
tsp. of vanilla or rum, your choice
1 cup sugar
2 1/2 cups self-raising flour
tsp. ground nutmeg

in a large bowl, mash the bananas smooth.
add butter and sugar, blend all ingredients until thick and creamy
add yogurt, milk, nutmeg, and vanilla/rum. blend thoroughly.
add flour slowly and blend in. (add first cup, mix until blended; add second cup, etc.)

batter should be very sticky, like dumpling dough. spread batter in a greased 9x13 baking pan, bake in a 350 F (175 C) oven for approx. 20 minutes. When dry on top and golden-brown, test with a toothpick. If toothpick comes out clean, it's done.

Serve warm with kisses and praise from very happy (and impressed) man.

I'm it, or so it would seem

Just got tagged by Timorous Beastie. The idea is to reach for the nearest book, go to page 123, look for the 5th sentence on the page, and then post the next three sentences. Here you go:

Auter maner leche lumbarde. Take fayre Hony, and clarifi yt on the fyre tylle it wexe hard; then take hard yolkys of Eyroun, & kryme a gode quantyte ther-to tyl it be styf y-now; an thenne take it vppe, & ley it on a borde; then take fayre gratyd Brede, and pouder pepir, & molde it to-gederys with thine hondys, tyl it be so styf that it wole ben lechyd; than leche it; then take wyne & pouder Gyngere, Canelle, & a lytil claryfyid hony, & late renne thorw a straynour, & caste this Syrip there-on, when thou shalt serue it out insteade of Cleyre.

(From the Harley ms. 279, p. 35 vj.)

Sorry. I'm reading a book of medieval cooking. Bet you weren't expecting that, were you???! The above is a recipe for Lombard Slices (whatever those are). Here is the recipe (for the foodies among you) re-written by professional chef and historian and adapted for the modern kitchen:

"12 hard-boiled egg yolks
8 Tbs clear honey
175 g/6 oz fine white breadcrumbs or as needed
pinch of ground black pepper

syrup:
225 ml/8 fl oz/1 cup red wine
generous pinch of ground cinnamon and ginger
5 tablespoons clear honey

There are at least three recipes for the sweetmeat called Leche Lumbard: one stiffened with dates, one with almonds, and this one with egg yolk. If you want to, you can use fewer egg yolks and more breadcrumbs, but the consistency will not be as smooth.

Sieve the egg yolks on to a sheet of paper. Bring the honey for the slices to the boil and simmer for 2 minutes. Take the pan off the heat. And the sieved yolks little by little tothe pan, beating or stirring rpaidlyto belend them in smoothly. Then blend in the breadcrumbs and pepper; use sufficient breadcrumbs to make the mixture stiff enough to mould. Shape it into a breick and chill until cold and firm. Cut it into small slices like halva.

Simmer the ingredients for the syrup until the wine is well reduced. Spoon alittle over each slice before serving.

Serve with small spoons as a sweet mouthful with coffee."

Taken from The Medieval Cookbook by Maggie Black, British Museum Press, c. 1992.

Martha Stewart, kiss my ass

I am the new domestic goddess. This weekend I:

...baked a cake for 2 of my friends whose birthdays are very close to one another. (The frosting has holes in it because the photo was taken after we took the candles out.)







...made 4 bottles of sloe gin and 3 bottles of blackberry vodka. Yes, I picked the berries myself.

*air guitar*

The gin had only been bottled for 1 day when I took this pic, but look at the gorgeous colour in the big bottle. That's gonna be a good batch.



...baked a couple pumpkins down to prepare the meat for use in such fabulous things as pies, bread, and muffins. Did you know that 95% of all the pumpkins grown in america are used for decoation??? It's a crime! EAT YOUR FUKING PUMPKINS! THEY'RE DELICIOUS!




...made a pot of chicken and fennel stew. The stock I made from the carcass of the chicken I roasted on saturday. I boiled it for 4 hours with bay leaves and an apple. For the stew I added onion, fennel, celery, beans, potato, and fresh thyme, and cooked it for another 3 hours.

You may now wipe the drool off your keyboard.

Whiiiiinging in the Rain

The things we do for love... *rolls eyes*

I made the mistake of telling the Pirate that I would bring him and his parents a blackberry pie when I go to visit this weekend. Fatal error. If I'd kept my big yap shut, I wouldn't have been committed. I would have had the option of looking at the weather this morning and saying "Fuckit, i'm not picking sodding berries in this weather."

OK, to be fair if I told the Pirate that I couldn't make a pie because the weather was too shit for picking berries, he would not have held it against me one iota. I also had the option of going to Tesco's and buying some blueberries or something and making a different kind of pie. So really, it was my choice.

Hey Spin, did you (or any of you other Brizzolians out there) notice the torrential downpour at about half nine this morning? The one that made looking out the window an experience akin to standing on the Maid of the Mist and trying to see through Niagara Falls? Guess where I was in that rainstorm? 2 miles from my flat, picking sodding blackberries, that's where!

It is not an exaggeration to say that there are times I've gone for an (unintentional) plunge in Avon waters and come out drier than I was when I got back to my flat this morning.

Actually, I'm just whinging for drama's sake. I didn't mind. It wasn't cold, and god knows I spend about 20% of my waking hours soaking wet anyway. (Truth be told, it was kind of fun. Shhh, don't tell anyone I said that.)

Food for thought, and food for eating

You will never believe what I got in the post yesterday. Go on, guess. You'll never guess. OK, I'll tell you: a love letter. A fucking love letter. Ah, but from whom? I hear you ask. I'll tell you this much: I didn't need to look at the signature to know who sent it. All I needed to see was the stationery on which it was written. Black paper. Black paper written on with silver ink. What sort of man sends a love letter on black paper?! The sort of man who goes to Egypt on holiday and brings his girlfriend back a stone sculpture of a pre-dynastic fertility god complete with giant erect phallus, that's who. A man with style. A man with penache'. A man who went from happily getting all he could manage and then some to lonely bastard in the space of half a pint.

It was really moving. I really had no idea he felt that way. He's not one to express his emotions in words, but I think at this point he figured he had nothing left to lose. For the sake of fairness, because I previously published a list of all the things he did that bugged me, I'll let you read a bit of the letter, to leave you with a more balanced and favorable impression of his character.

...I dreamed of serenading you with my guitar under your balcony last night, except you don't have a balcony. If I could actually play the guitar I could play through the intercom system, but I guess that would distort the sound and you wouldn't understand me. (laughing hysterically)

I could send you a love poem but I guess you'd recognize my plagarism and laugh.

The fact is I feel compelled to write to you with all my heart... (getting choked up)

...there are many things I love and admire about you even though I never took the opportunity to tell you. When we're out walking I love it when you seem to just disappear when i turn around I discover you have stopped to smell a lily about 50 metres back along the path. The confidence in your voice and the sound of you speaking puts me at ease... (cue the weeping)

...CB, I love the way a little sigh escapes your mouth when you seem peased or contented. I love the smell of your hair (that's not just a line, he really did smell my hair a lot)... I love the way your skin feels when I touch your arms, shoulders, and back. I like the way your bum wobbles when you go out jogging and I love it that you don't seem to care. Most of all I love it when I wake up and find you lying there beside me...

There was more to it than that. Some bits too personal to publish here, some too mundane, questions he would like answered, etc., but anyway. I had to respond; couldn't just let that one lie. I sent him a response, 3 pages typed, single spaced. Too many times in my life I've heard the phrase "I love you, but..." This has led me to conclude that "but" is the most wretched word in the English language. I never thought I'd hear myself say it. Today I hate myself.

Was out with the Pirate last night. Saw "Cars." Cute flick, but I have some issues with it. Maybe I'll do more with that later.

Right now, I promised you food for eating. I have had several requests lately for recipes for light, summer fare. First Nations is in the process of re-learning how to cook, the Great She Elephant is looking to slim down a wee notch, and I'm sure I remember HC asking me for some salad recipes. So for the next few weeks I'll be posting a recipe ever couple days or so. These are all light, easy, and really super yummy. If you try them and have any suggestions as to how they can be improved, by all means leave your thoughts in the comments. Bon appetite!

Mediterranean Salad

Ripe baby plum or cherry tomatoes
Feta cheese
Greek olives (optional)
Fresh basil
Olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
Salt/pepper

Slice the tomatoes into quarters. Coarsely chop the basil. Mix the tomatoes, basil, and olives in a bowl. Drizzle with oil, vinegar (be spare with the vinegar. seriously, less is more). Season to taste. Crumble the feta cheese. (Always add the feta last or the balsamic vinegar makes it go a wonky, unnattractive colour.) Serve immediately, room temp.

Because this salad is so simple, the key here is good ingredients. The basil MUST be fresh. Dried basil has no flavor. You can buy a pot of fresh basil at Sainsbury's for a pound. No excuses. Use really ripe tomatoes, good olive oil, and a fairly sweet feta. (Most fetas are too salty for me. If you can't find a feta you like, give it a whirl with goat cheese or mozzarella.) Enjoy!

Beer bread, high 'Cs', and Famous Last Words

By popular demand, I am publishing my no-knead Beer Bread recipe. I wouldn't normally do this, as it ruins the mystique, but you lot are just so wonderful I'm breaking my own rules. See, I don't genrally like people to know how stupidly, abysmally easy this recipe is. It's much more impressive if you just plop a loaf of hot, crusty, homemade bread down in front of a man and watch his eyes and tongue roll right out of their native orifices as he ogles the majestic mound of steaming yeasty beasties surrounded by hardy, golden crust. Mmmm.

But, as I said, you guys are the shiznit, so here she goes: make it, eat it, share it, relish it, but don't let on how simple it was; let people think you put in a lot more effort than you did.

No-knead Beer Bread

3 ingredients:

3 cups self-rising flour
3 Tablespoons sugar
12 oz (1 1/2 cups) good beer*

3 steps:

1. Mix ingredients together quickly. (Dough will be very sticky, so don't worry that you can't get it into a neat ball - it won't happen.)
2. Stuff dough into a greased loafpan.
3. Bake at 375 degrees (Farenheit) for 45 minutes. Remove from loafpan to cool.

done, and done. See how easy that was? No kneading, no rising, and it takes a total of 50 minutes from start to finish. Can't beat that with a stick!


*I've done this with several kinds of beer. I like to try to coordinate the beer to the rest of the meal. For example, once I served this bread with a homemade steak and Guiness pie, so I used Guiness. The bread was dark and malty as a result. If your serving this with a lighter meat, like poultry, I recommend Worthington's. So tasty! But for fuck's sake dont' use Bud Light or MGD or something equally appalling. Generally good, strong ales or bitters work best, but play around with it and see what you like.

High C's

the meme from First Nations: 10 words beginning with C and what they mean to me. (Is it me, or does that sound like one of those lame assignements your teaching gives you on the first day of school, just so they can assign homework even though you havn't done anything in the classroom yet?)

1. Chaucer
(Oh come on, you had to see that coming!) Bastard. Genius. Wrote amazing poetry at the end of the 14th century for the sole purpose or tomenting me with his linguistic style 600 years later.

(by the way, i'm not giving this a lot of thought. i'm just pulling words out of my ass as they come to me; sort of a free-association thing.)

2. Celebrity
n. someone who holds him/herself to be a fuck lot more important than he/she actually is, and lives under the delusion that I give a shit. see Paris Hilton.

3. Clairvoyance
What Darth Vader lacked, and the reason he was unable to locate the Rebels' secret fortress.

4. Clarinet
Instrument I played regularly for 12 years in various concert and marching bands. Source of great joy, frustration, and comfort. Reason my right-hand thumb is utterly useless due to advanced arthritis from holding the bloody thing for so many years.

5. Company
People who come to your home, eat your food, and content your soul; the inspiration for hospitality and unnecessary kitchen gizzmos; bringers of wine.

6. Chrysanthemums
Cheap flowers your date gets you out of sense of obligation, but clearly thinks is a stupid idea and a waste of money, so he buys chrysanthemums.

7. Chastity
yet another dumb idea, propogated mainly by religious fanatics who's principle motivation is the fear that someone, somewhere, is having more fun than they are.

8. Charity
a tidy little word i use to justify spending thousands of dollars of other people's money that i and they both know i will never be able to pay back. as in "let me buy you dinner, you're a charity case."

9. Council-tenant
Source of aggravation, amusement, and paycheck for the Hairy Man.

10. Cheers!
catch-all, British word used as a greeting, goodbye, thank you, you're welcome, and as a toast. Should not be used on the wrong side of the Atlantic ocean, as this only invites blank stares and accusations of snobbery, lack of patriotism, or even being an "enemy" (read: terrorist) spy.


Famous Last Words

the scene: I'm standing in Hairy's kitchen. I'm dressed to go out, hair and makeup flawless, black lace blouse, sexy t-strap shoes (of Shoegasm fame), sexy Victoria's Secret knickers, and pantyhose (the kind that go all the way up to your waist). My white linen skirt is on the ironing board in front of me. I am attempting to remove some rather unfortunate and stubborn creases before we go out for dinner.

H: nice pants.

me: ta

H: Aren't you hot?

me: why would i be hot?

H: well, isn't it a little warm for tights?

me: ?

H: as opposed to stockings...

me: I am wearing stockings

H: no you're not. those are tights.

me (sensing yet another trans-oceanic language barrier coming on): these? we don't call these tights, we call them stockings or pantyhose. Do you mean the ones that only come up to the thigh and thave the little suspender thingys that hold them up?

H: Yeah! do you have any of those?!? (grins devilishly)

me: no, i don't. sorry.

H (looks crestfallen for a moment, then smiles suddenly): You wanna borrow mine?

Good times

Last night we cranked up the love tunes, got ourselves good and liquered up, and...







... BAKED COOKIES!!!








A bit of Percy Sledge, a bit of white wine, a few tubes of icing and a load of chocolate chips. Aww yee-eah, baby!





(The four bakers represented 4 different countries, so we each decorated a cookie in honor of our home turf. Aren't we cute?)












This morning we had nice weather in Bristol for the first time this spring. (It's gone now, of coure, but for a couple hours it was rather enjoyable. Windy as all hell, but warm and sunny.) I took a copy of Piers Plowman up to Brandon Hill Park, found myself a sunny spot on the hillside sheltered from the wind, and laid down with my book, enjoying the smell of the purple hyacinths that surrounded me. That, my friends, is what higer education should be!

The Dinner

I figured I was probably being a doormat for having him over, but hospitality is too important a virtue in my family and upbringing. I just couldn't bring myself to 'uninvite' him, even if i may have been justified in doing so.

He was 15 min late, but he sent me a text and told me he would be late and then showed up bang on 7:15, so he got points for courtesy. And he showed up carrying a bottle of Hoegaarden, my fav beer. Damn it, as if he wasn't fabulous already it turns out he's also a teriffic dinner guest with great manners. Shit shit shit. This is not helping the recovery process.

I admit it, we had a really nice evening. He lavished praise on the meal and complimented my cooking skills repeatedly (which was both appropriate and accurate, if I do say so myself). We talked, and he aplogized for the email (didn't retract it though). I told him I was glad he was honest, and that I think he's really neat person and would like to be friends, to which he agreed readily.

(I always assume when guys say they really like me and think I'm teriffic but don't want to date me that it's because they don't find me physically attractive. I figure that if they liked me as much as they claim AND found me attractive they would date me. Does this make sense to anyone else? Am I off the mark here? You blokes especially, I would really appreciate your feedback on this. Don't spare my feelings.)

And then I laid my trump card:
The fastest way to a man's heart is through his chest with a sharp knife through his stomach. I figured it wouldn't hurt to WOW him with my culinary expertise (and Case Western Reserve University conducted a study several years ago which revealed that the smell most likely to stimulate sexual arousal in males was cinnamon), so i whipped out the ol' apple pie.

So over our pie and ice cream and white wine we chatted and laughed. Christ he's got a lovely smile. Dimples too. Melt my fucking heart. And then we went to the Cara Dillon concert, which was great. Truth be told I enjoyed the warmup act more than Cara Dillon, who has a lovely voice but doesn't articlate for shit and I was only able to understand about 5% of what she was singing. Her ensemble was fucking amazing though. They guy who played the pipes and whistles had to have had some kind of damn musical superpowers. His beat, power, and passion were relentless, and I've never seen a human move his fingers so rapidly in all my life.

June Tabor is performing at St. George's next week. Iain and i are both interested in seeing her, so he's going to see if he's free from work, but it looks like we may be going out again next week. And he offered to cook this time.

Thus we find ourselves back in familiar territory. I fancy him, he want to be "just friends." Ok. I can do that. I've done that before. For a while I'll keep trying to pursuade him to change his mind, but eventually I'll give up on that and accept and cherish the friendship for what it is. It just doesn't make sense to me to say "Well if you don't want to shag me and buy me roses than you're not even worth speaking to." I can't bring myself to tell someone that because they're not interested in a romance that they are therefore a waste of my time. I feel that if someone is worth know, they're worth knowing. And I like him. I like talking with him, spending time with him.

A couple of my best friends on earth are guys that I used to really fancy. Today they're some of the most understanding, supportive, caring friends i know. I just can't consider that a defeat in any way. So if Iain (you notice, HC, that i'm throwing in that unnecessary fourth letter) wants to be friends, i call that a gift, not a failure.




(Even if i would really like to shag him.)

Culinary fucking genius

Since I began cooking at the tender age of 6 (my mom refused to pack my lunch for me, so as soon as I started all-day school, I had to make my own sandwiches), I have slowly, arduously, with great gusto and many setbacks, been perfecting my own recipe for...

















...chicken salad.



Quit laughing. Chicken salad is a fine art, and requires a subtle touch. Sure, any moron can chop up a bunch of leftover roast chicken and smear some mayonaise on it, but that ain't proper chicken fucking salad.

Now, after 20 years of steady practice, I'm pretty handy in the kitchen. I can make anything you've got a recipe for, and I'm pretty good with modification and invention. I do stews and chowders that would satisfy a starving Icelandic fisherman, my pie crusts flake like a bad case of dandruff (there's an apetizing similie for you), and my salad courses are the stuff of legend. I have high standards for my cooking because I require that my food meet numerous criteria. It can't just taste good. Oh no, mis companeros, even McFuckingDonalds can make food taste good. My food must:
Taste good
Look attractive/ have an appealing presentation
Smell appetizing and mouth watering
And most importantly, be extremely nutrious. (With the exception of my exceptional desserts, all of my food is extremely healthy, 'cause I'm one of those granola-smoking health nuts.)

In the spirit of friendship and charity and bragging, I'm going to do something I don't normally do: I'm going to give you all one of my truly original recipes. I made this up. I invented it. I take full credit for it. It's almost totally different from Viola's chicken salad, sort of. I highly recommend you try this out. Your chicken salad eating days will never be the same. Allow it to entice you, satisfy you, and nourish you body and soul and tastebuds. Life is good. (for everyone but the chicken. poor bastard.)

World's Best Chicken Salad

You will need:
4 large, skinless, boneless chicken breasts
Cooking oil
1 Cup coarsely chopped dried apricots
1 Cup coarsely chopped walnuts
1 Cup coarsely chopped celery
Miracle Whip (or mayonaise, if you're a loser)
Paprika
Salt
Pepper

Heat the oil in a heavy skillet. Cut the chicken breasts into strips, and place in pan. (The pan should be large enough so that the pieces just touch. If they are piled on top of one another, get a bigger fucking pan you moron and learn how to brown chicken properly.) Season the chicken while it is cooking. Season lightly with salt, and generously with pepper and paprika. Cook the chicken gently until it is done through. Remove chicken from heat and place on layered paper towels to soak up any extra oil and moisture. Set aside to cool.

Meanwhile, chop your apricots, walnuts, and celery, and place them all in a large mixing bowl. When the chicken is cooled, chop it into 1 cm. cubes, and add it to the bowl. Add just enough Miracle Whip (or mayonaise, if you're a loser) to glue everything together, about 1 Cup, and mix thoroughly. Enjoy in a sandwich with good brown bread, or as a cool summer lunch on a bed of greens with slices of ripe tomato. Serve with cold ice tea. You're welcome.