Dear various schizophrenic- narcissistic voices in my head- because I thought you didn’t fully comprehend my bagel blog post, I added a video. Buckle up buttercup, it is quite the roller coaster ride. Enjoy. Please check it out. (also, me screwing around with video editing software)
I’ve got nothing to do and all day to do it. [any Styx fans?]. The COVID pandemic and resulting lockdown have taken me– and I suspect most people– through a series of moods that are finally culminating in pure and simple boredom. This blog itself is an archeological record of initial boredom resulting in experimental cooking, premature planning for future events, and general musings by somebody entirely unqualified to share musings.
But the truth is that the unqualified musings were only a small part of what has actually been a relatively pleasant period without much airplane travel, a lot of family time, and some cool developments.Continue reading “Surplus of Time=Scarcity of Motivation”
Looking out at the bay and watching the sailboats often leads me to be jealous of the sailors on those boats. Then, because I am a cynical jackass, I find myself wondering if they really are sailors. That is, do they meet my imagined qualification of practicing good seamanship, or are they just an accident waiting to happen.
A New York egg roll is not really Chinese food. It is a regionalized version of an Americanized version of Chinese food. A genuine experience of eating a New York egg roll should first burn the roof of your mouth just enough to be sensitive (as opposed to the molten lava/cheese burn of a genuine New York slice of pizza that ought to leave a piece of skin hanging from the roof of your mouth) and cause the crispy egg roll exterior to be a painful irritation with every bite all while at the same time a single drop of hot oil meanders down your lip to your chin leaving a 2nd-degree burn trail. But, this foodie version of self-flagellation should be overwhelmed by the crunchy explosion of the shell, followed by the natural crunch of cabbage, the savory flavors of tiny shrimp (possibly sea monkeys) and bits of discarded roast pork, all melded together with cloyingly sweet duck sauce as the Chinese mustard also seers your sinuses to the point of tears.
I needed this experience to stave off zombie-apocalypse depression. So, I set out to make them and share the relatively simple recipe here with you.Continue reading “Quarantine Craving- New York Style Egg Rolls!”
Quarantine got you down? Social distancing a drag? Family togetherness a bit too together? Why not mentally check out, and plan that 2022 voyage from the South Africa to Grenada with me? Well, that, or you can have another deep and meaningful chat about feelings, express your gratitude for quarantine togetherness through improvisational dance, or your love of life by learning the oboe.
Me, I’ll plan that passage (ocean crossing).Continue reading “Premature Passage Planning”
The ubiquitous tater tot. Uniform. Cylindrical. Mercifully, too big to fit in the average 6 year old’s nostril. And, usually containing some weird stuff in addition to potatoes such as dextrose, disodium dihydrogen pyrophosphate, dehydrated onion, sodium sulfate, natural flavoring. Gross.Continue reading “Not Your Mom’s (Frozen) Tater Tot”
Another day of quarantine and another day of trying to make sure the kids have a variety of skills with which to face the zombie apocalypse. Hopefully, the skill most needed in the event of zombies will be cooking food from scratch. (Hey, if you prefer boat talk, check this out.)Continue reading “Quarantine French Toast!”
Bagels- one of the world’s ultimate comfort foods!!! Like much of the world, we are practicing “social distancing” and staying indoors. So, we are getting a bit bored. To channel some of the pent up energy, I decided to take the kids on a walk down my memory lane . . . back to when I was a bagel baker. (prefer some boat talk? try this.)Continue reading “Quarantine Bagels”
Living in northern California means the kids get a “ski-week” off from school in February. As recent transplants from Georgia, we learned that ski-week is a mixed bag of fun, whining, fear, pain, over-priced lodging, and bruises, all compressed into tight-fitting boots and ski clothes.Continue reading “A Skiing Interlude”
Does size really matter or is it all just up to the motion of the ocean?