Better Dead Than Red In the Head? (Hopefully Not.)



After a scare back in the dust days (not willing to post pictures), I was totally converted to the "check yourself" for the skin. So far, so good, despite the wrinkles that eventually show up with age. Please, folks, take care of yourselves!

Christmas Pudding.

I promised the Frenchie a pudding for Christmas, but can't seem to find my pudding mold. (Hope springs eternal - I've only gotten through five of the 10 boxes that contain what used to be my kitchen.) If, on the off chance, I can't find my pudding mold, what would be an acceptable substitute?

It was a weekend of trying to get stuff done while coping with migraines and the sadness that usually settles in from the bureaucratic shortening of the days. Put away a manifesto of sorts* and cast-off in frustration some gratuitously French academic writing** that annoyed the hell out of me in both the source and my native tongue.

Still, needed a bit of something to settle down with at bedtime, so started rooting around the horribly disorganized bookshelves that recently went up in my room. The something ended up being nothing I'd normally choose: a mystery.



Found these at the Acton Library sale a few weeks ago. Since it was the last few hours of the sale, they were selling brown bags at a fixed price. Took them more for the cover art than anything else.

My mom and dad were big mystery readers and remember these stories around the house when I was a little kid. Since I could read at a very young age - two? three? I remember specifically picking up the books (Book of the Month Club editions, so hardbound with gold lettering) thinking that they were about a rabbit and just not understanding anything about what was going on between the covers. When I mentioned not understanding the Rabbit story, my mother got the biggest kick out of it; told me that it was a Rabbi, or Jewish Priest and not a rabbit. So much for that.

More recently, found an omnibus edition of the Rabbi Small works translated in French for the Frenchie. He, another big mystery fan, found them entertaining. (Never got around to looking at them because I was reading something depressing either by Henning Mankell or Didier Daeninckx. Both are good writers; not always good choices, though, if you are looking to go to bed in a good mood and not have nightmares.)

Anyway, finished the first story in two nights (probably would have pulled an all-nighter if I didn't have so much running around and headache fighting to do the next day). Enjoyed the novel means of problem-solving, the development of (glad to see) recurring characters, the slice-of-life (it takes place very near to home before I was born - so the issues of how the different communities in this little North Shore town are also very interesting.) aspect. Best of all, though the author (subtly) gave me a few clues, he did some good baffling as well; didn't know who done it until the last page. Bravo!

I don't read a lot of stuff like this, so am really glad to have hit upon something that was such a joy to read. Am looking forward to the next adventure which starts with the the Rabbi's wife trying to get him fed before the big fasting for Atonement Time.

***

* This is her first longer work for general consumption, I think. Though I generally enjoy her writing, found this to be a bit too repetitive and trying to persuade. Still, there was a lot of good in it - most notably in its nod to the discipline of complexity (something I'm starting to take an interest in). I love also how positive she is. In fact, that's the reason why I picked the book up. Needed something a bit uplifting.

**There's a reason why I did Literature; feel that the form is about as important as the content. Generally this filters out anyone with a Paris-[pick a with a Social-Sciences division Roman numeral] after their name. A friend suggested it to me more to see after how long I'd take to stop reading than anything else, I think.

Caldo Verde

(or an ersatz version thereof:)

chicken sausage instead of chorizo
pintos instead of white beans
rice instead of potatoes
collards instead of kale

Still, seems like it'll keep us warm enough tonight, which is the main goal.

W(h)ine.

Does anyone know of any good, not overpriced, *low* (meaning under 12%) alcohol wines aside from vinho verde? It used to be that good, (sometimes local) wine could be found meeting the above criteria.

Wanted to post some pictures from a recent Urban Expedition. Also wanted to talk about another added bit of fuel to my neurotic fire about returning to France in the near future. All this is getting put on the back burner, because Harry's back from Africa, safe and sound, and that trumps all.

It might be the ingrained Rust Belt Frugality, might also be that I grew up during the period characterized by what is known as Stagflation*; don't know. In any event, I've always been fascinated by the reduced meat/produce/bakery offerings in the littler grocery stores around here.

Anyway, the other day, while perusing the day old baked good bin**, I managed to find a reduced priced loaf of foofy bread, that is, bread so precious that it wasn't even called bread anymore, but pane mediterraneo. To go with the upmarket name, it was priced kind of fancily (or fancifully) at originally $6 a loaf.

By the time I got to it, was $2. Heck, for croutons, crostini and chapelure,*** that works. I think that's even less than a loaf of Wonder at this point.

On the walk back home, I gave some thought as to what to do with my happy little windfall. I certainly didn't need the several cups of breadcrumbs or croutons this would net me (have decent reserves of both in the freezer). I'm not much of a sandwich or morning toast person; the bread would be green before I got 1/2 through with it that way.

At home, checked out what I had in the larder and made my decision. Since we were just having soup that night, figured I could round things out with a slightly heavier than normal dessert:

Windfall Pudding

1 c. stale bread, cut into small bits and with the crusts on, gosh darnit.
1 c. milk
2 t sugar
1 egg (I used medium-sized)
1/4 c. raisins
1 t. extract (at this point, I've used both rum and vanilla.)
1/4 t. cinnamon
1/2 t. nutmeg
finely grated peel of 1/2 a small orange****

1.) Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a glass pan (or, in my case, a ceramic cereal bowl.)

2.) Beat egg; add milk, sugar, spices, extract. Mix until well-blended.

3.) Add bread, raisins, peel. Mix well. Let sit for 15 minutes or so to allow the bread to soak up the milk, the raisins to soften and the flavors to blend.

4.) Take this mixture, toss it into the greased bowl, then let bake for 35-45 minutes; until liquid is evaporated and a nice, toasty crust forms on top.

Serve with your favorite accompaniments. Most folks like this with ice or whipped cream and maybe a bit more of something sweet on top (like rum sauce, chocolate, etc). I've been serving it in a pool of buttermilk with a drizzle of maple syrup on top.

Serves 2 (protein-rich meal completing portions) to 4 (smaller, more dessert-like ones).

***

* Usually joke about growing up during The Depression. Heck, I feel old, but I'm not *that* old.

** Someplace I normally try to steer clear of. 1/2 dozen cheap cream horns only look good in the package. Unless you can cut them in halves or thirds and serve them at tea to a bunch of friends, they actually end up being pretty vile. Idem for the tub o' rugalach, etc.

*** Said with a wry smile and pronounced in what I'm told is a charming regional accent.

**** Regarding the last five ingredients: Mentioned already the extracts I've tried. I'd also like to tinker with the fruit, the citrus peel and the spices. I'm thinking that apples, cloves and / or cardamom might be good if I don't put any peel in. Taking things even further, I'm wondering how a 50:50 coconut milk:cow's milk blend with lemon extract, shredded coconut, ginger and lime peel would work out. Heaven knows I've got enough bread to try it. Also have a can of coconut milk that's just dying to be used before its fast-approaching expiration date. We'll see.

Instead of turning on the TV and zoning out, the housemate and I like to either play a game of cribbage or scrabble, then read aloud to one another*.

We've gotten through quite a few books this way - mainly adventure/travel literature. For whatever reasons, this genre lends itself well to Pavel's delivery.

Anyway, last night, we finished a favorite story of mine: Joshua Slocum's Sailing Alone Around the World. Pavel was a little surprised** at how much he ended up enjoying*** the old salt's accounts of the people he met and the things he saw during his three year voyage on the little boat he acquired and was required to rebuild down in Fairhaven, MA.

The tough thing about finishing a book is having to choose another. Since we've got our sea legs now, should we go back in time and read some of Marco Polo's accounts of his voyages in the same areas as Slocum's? Should we move up in time and cross the Atlantic with Thor Heyerdahl? Or maybe, should we put ourselves back on Terra Firma and follow Cabeza de Vaca across Texas on foot?

***

* It usually ends up that Pavel does the reading while I listen and knit. He does this very well, and I think he should consider volunteering to record books for the sight-impaired.

** Part of Pavel's surprise had to do that this was a Shambhala book. Generally stuff published by them tends to be a bit on the esoteric side, and I think he believed that I was forcing some sort of Book of the Dead like thing on him.

*** He's actually sort of researching a trip to Mauritius based on what he read. Slocum really liked the people there.

Sesame Street, Math Help, Helpful Bugs.



What more could one ask for this Summer?

Words, maybe:

One two three
Four five six
Seven eight nine
Ten eleven twelve
Ladybugs
Came to the ladybugs' picnic

One two three
Four five six
Seven eight nine
Ten eleven twelve
And they all played games
At the ladybugs' picnic

They had twelve sacks so they ran sack races
They fell on their backs and they fell on their faces
The ladybugs 12
At the ladybugs' picnic

They played jump rope but the rope it broke
So they just sat around telling knock-knock jokes
The ladybugs 12
At the ladybugs' picnic

One two three
Four five six
Seven eight nine
Ten eleven twelve
And they chatted away
At the ladybugs' picnic

They talked about the high price of furniture and rugs
And fire insurance for ladybugs
The ladybugs 12
At the ladybugs' picnic
12!

Hypnotic.

Love how the internet can sometimes be like those Matryoshka dolls - you open one up to find another little treat within, &c, &c. Anyway, came upon this little video of some Arab IDF soldiers engaging in a traditional sort of poetry 'slam' and was really taken in by it:



Found it via Solomon, who linked to this site, an interesting one in its own right - and not just for the "explicit sexual language or innuendo found in most posts," either! Definitely take a look at Nizo's post on the subject - he gives an explanation of what the guys are doing along with a bit of a translation. (Honestly have to agree with him - the Druze guy is *awfully* cute. Love his voice, too.)


***

Sweet that the Bedouin guy calls himself 'Bulbul,' a kind of songbird found all over Africa and in the Middle East.

Oh Dear.



Don't know if I should be laughing or be crouched in a corner rocking myself calm after this.

Anyway, Safe Mode. Had to put aside the History books and Stendhal for a bit, as the brain is so cloudy right now. Started reading another from the growing pile of Time Life cookbooks in the pantry. Tonight, got interested in a brief summary ancient Romans' tastes, their love for sweet/sour blends and what I guess could be their equivalent to Worcestershire sauce, Garum.

Last FM

Wow.



Was totally unaware of their existence. (Appears to be the audio equivalent to Youtube.) Enjoy.

T Minus Three Days and Counting until Poetry Month.

(From Last Year.)

Bless Peter Graves



For some of the funniest self-perpetuating one-liners ever. (May he rest in peace.)

***

(For those of you who loved him earlier than the above, one of my favorite versions of the theme from "Mission Impossible:")

Gratuitous Reference to Shadows On a Cave Wall:



Not a big fan of most of what I've seen by Bertolucci, but The Conformist is probably one of the most beautiful and sad films have seen. Trintignant's also one of the very few actors I've ever actually had a crush on.

which comes with a call to reread the the bit about the philosophers' drinking party. (My favorite. Of course, it's a popular subject among girls. Not so much the drinking part and the trash talk beforehand, though it is kind of entertaining here.)

Am still on the Stendhal kick, by the way. Started the Chartreuse de Parme last night, as I was super insomniac and tired of Carcopino. So, kind did a switch from an English translation of a Frenchman's appreciation of Rome to the (somewhat polyglottal) version originale of another Frenchman's love of Milan. (Love Stendhal's writing, gosh darnit. Don't think I'd have liked him personally; do love what he had to say, though.)

This is kind of interesting.

Found it as a sort of appendix/correction to a previous post talking about making popcorn with truffle oil. I clicked the product link and found two things that gave me the



feeling.

First, there's the highlighted brand. Now, nothing against them, but I see Roland products as total tight "budget gourmet" both here and in France. Generally, I'll buy their stuff if I find it at Job Lots or Monoprix, but I'm not going to go out of my way to order or pay boatloads of money. (Above is their American distribution address. For some reason, and I'm only going on gut instinct, I think they're Asian. Don't know.)

Second, the price (approx $7/bottle). That's about the price for a fair to middling bottle of *unflavored* olive oil here. Last time I was au marche in Versailles, I noted that...like...*real* truffles were going for nearly 1000 EE/kg, so just an olive-sized piece to soak would cost a fair bit more than the price of the two bottles for $13 listed here.

Ever since reading Allende's recipe for a truffle in olive oil decoction, I've wanted to try this. Can't do it right now, though, as even if I *could* get truffles in the States, I'd not be able to afford them. So, settled for the next best thing here - a small bottle of truffle *flavored* oil from a local Eye-talian shop. I had no illusions about it, given the price (slightly higher than the inexpensive Spanish stuff I normally buy), but it did the job. Not ashamed of that. But then again, I'm not marketing myself as a gourmet or anything. Am just someone who likes food and who cooks decently enough.

For what it's worth, the reason why I bought the oil was to make a treat for the housemate. He'd described frites drizzled in truffle oil and sprinkled with rosemary. Given my food restrictions right now, I came up with an actually really nice workaround:

Patates Douces aux "Truffes" et Romarin

2 medium-sized sweet potatoes
4 T olive oil flavored with truffle (or not - just wanted to be foofy and nice for the housemate. Used Monini brand from Spoleto, IT, by the way.)
1+ T dried rosemary
salt and pepper to taste

1.) Preheat oven to 375 F.
2.) Wash, dry, cut out bad spots on the sweet potatoes. Slice thinly width-wise (like potato chips).
3.) Toss potatoes in olive oil, rosemary, salt and pepper. Save a bit of oil to rub on a cookie sheet.
4.) Bake for roughly 15 minutes or so, turning over when necessary. Ultimately, you'd like them to be crusty on the outside and softish on the inside.

Pavel actually told me that, though it wasn't very truffly, it was honestly good and a keeper. I was happy because it's totally within the South Beach parameters.

Well - the coffee roasting experiment seemed to work out well. Took about 1/3 cup of the beans and put them in an aluminum pie plate one layer deep. Roasted them under the broiler for about two-three minutes on each side.

The roasted beans were only slightly darker than the original ones, but they were much oilier. Also, though the flavor of the coffee was milder than the Trader Joe's stuff, I noted that two cups of it didn't wasn't making me dizzy like the past couple days. Also, the kitchen smelled heavenly.

I might try roasting the stuff longer tomorrow morning; we'll see. Am glad, though, to have found a workaround, even though it is a bit of a pain in the rear. We have like a pound and a half of the city roast left, and it was getting to be painful to drink.

Dad posted
something kind of sweet last night.



Loved him in his tight leather pants phase; love him even more nowadays. (Words in English; Traduction a venir, bien sur!)