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I took Friday as a vacation day, and will take Monday and Tuesday. So far:
The right-wing groups who announced a demo for Saturday in Nathan Phillips Square mostly backed out, but we and another few hundred people showed up for the counter-demo anyway. I also wrote some gratuitous (gratuitous to the plot, anyway) nazi-punching into a recent ongoing fic.
I bought some cheap fabric to try out an idea I have for a ‘twenties-style dress.
Andrew told me about a dream he had last week: he went to talk to the late Steve Ditko, who wouldn’t come out of his apartment but who did slide a note under the door, which turned out to be a recipe for “Mr. A’s Absolute Cookies.” They were one-half chocolate and one-half vanilla, and there were detailed, illustrated instructions not only on how to make them, but the proper way to eat them.
Today we went to The Monkey’s Paw, a used bookstore. Andrew found The Last Days of Pompeii (a tie-in edition to the 1935 movie) and I found the 1960 paperback of Peg Bracken’s The I Hate to Cook Book. I may even try some of the recipes. It has at least given me another possible explanation for the prevalence of paprika in mid-century North American cooking (to make beige dishes appear less boring).
ETA — I’m beginning to think there were two schools of thought on paprika — recipes invented/brought by actual Europeans immigrants call for at least two tablespoons of the stuff; and then there’s the “use a quarter teaspoon as a garnish” trick that Bracken references. (Unfortunately my mother used the latter in a chicken recipe she’d make when tired, with the result of turning me against paprika for decades).
Further ETA — so that’s what paprika tastes like? It tastes kind of... burnt. But Andrew seemed to like it, so I shall continue to explore it. I think tonight’s supper could have used less paprika and more garlic. type="_moz" />
The right-wing groups who announced a demo for Saturday in Nathan Phillips Square mostly backed out, but we and another few hundred people showed up for the counter-demo anyway. I also wrote some gratuitous (gratuitous to the plot, anyway) nazi-punching into a recent ongoing fic.
I bought some cheap fabric to try out an idea I have for a ‘twenties-style dress.
Andrew told me about a dream he had last week: he went to talk to the late Steve Ditko, who wouldn’t come out of his apartment but who did slide a note under the door, which turned out to be a recipe for “Mr. A’s Absolute Cookies.” They were one-half chocolate and one-half vanilla, and there were detailed, illustrated instructions not only on how to make them, but the proper way to eat them.
Today we went to The Monkey’s Paw, a used bookstore. Andrew found The Last Days of Pompeii (a tie-in edition to the 1935 movie) and I found the 1960 paperback of Peg Bracken’s The I Hate to Cook Book. I may even try some of the recipes. It has at least given me another possible explanation for the prevalence of paprika in mid-century North American cooking (to make beige dishes appear less boring).
ETA — I’m beginning to think there were two schools of thought on paprika — recipes invented/brought by actual Europeans immigrants call for at least two tablespoons of the stuff; and then there’s the “use a quarter teaspoon as a garnish” trick that Bracken references. (Unfortunately my mother used the latter in a chicken recipe she’d make when tired, with the result of turning me against paprika for decades).
Further ETA — so that’s what paprika tastes like? It tastes kind of... burnt. But Andrew seemed to like it, so I shall continue to explore it. I think tonight’s supper could have used less paprika and more garlic. type="_moz" />
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Date: 2018-08-13 01:37 am (UTC)From:I love the Monkey's Paw.
Monkey's Paw
Date: 2018-08-13 04:55 am (UTC)From:With that name I was always afraid that you'd end up with one of those "Evil Dead" type books for every great one that you found.
Re: Monkey's Paw
Date: 2018-08-13 10:40 am (UTC)From: