On Food
You can add anything to eggs. Today it was sausage, tomatoes, pepper cheese, and onion, served with guacamole and fresh tortillas.
Poutine may be the most perfect food ever invented. I wish I could remember the name of the place we went in Montreal (no, it wasn't Frites Alors), but my brain was suffering from too many Cheval Blanc blanche, and I could barely remember anything outside the poutine. I know I was there, though--Magda and Joey have pictures.
On Fashion
It sucks when a cheap and well-reviewed makeup line is sold exclusively at Wal-Mart in the US. Rimmel is supposed to stay put, not smear, be incredibly inexpensive, and not cause breakouts. But I can't shop at Wal-Mart. I just can't.
And how come Old Navy clothing is sized so strangely? I can't wear a 12 in most of their pants and shorts, but a 14 falls off my body as soon as I button the waist. And I wear an eight or ten in their skirts. Whassup with that?
On Fine Literature
I've gotten Chef Boy interested in the original Tom Swift series of books. We read interesting passages to one another out loud and comment on the dialects spoken by the "darkies" (yes, the term is actually used and was acceptable at the time) and the Irish cooks (all named Bridget). Although Tom's a nice guy, in my mind, he still doesn't compare to Frank Merriwell, student leader and officer at Fardale Academy. Why, in two chapters, Frank saved a person from a burning house, then a person from torture, then a sinking ship, then another person from *another* burning house! All this and offensive ethnic characters from such far places as Vermont, too!
All Tom ever does is thrash Andy Foger, the red-haired, squinty-eyed bully, and invent stuff.
In all seriousness, there's a lesson to be learned from comparing such books as the Frank Merriwell series (first published in 1899 or 1900) and Tom Swift (the books I have date from 1910-1911) and the Nancy Drew series of the late 1920's and early 1930's. Nancy Drew books contain all the offensive racial and religious stereotyping of the others, but thankfully skip the offensive gender stereotypes. Even Bess, the wimpy one of the Bess/George/Nancy triad, isn't such a pantywaist as she is in the yellow-backed 1950's rewrites.
On Nursing
I go back to work tomorrow after an unprecedented four days off. I hope I remember where the brain is.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Brain on the top, spine down the back.
Speak
LINKAGE
Old
-
▼
2005
(183)
-
▼
August
(18)
- Well, I'll be darned.
- *sigh*
- Overloaded
- Nightmare
- And the Stepford Award goes to....
- Wahooooo!
- There ain't nothin' like a DRAAAAIIINNNN....
- Links o' the morning!
- Which reminds me...
- Musings
- What do geckos eat?
- How Half the World Doth Conspire Against Me!*
- So here's a question....
- I think that's enough imagination for one day, tha...
- No, Mom, I didn't forget.
- Who thinks this shit up, anyway?
- "Great Scott!" I cried, springing from my chair
- Isn't it ironic, don't'cha think?
-
▼
August
(18)
4 comments:
Quebec has such good beer. Have you tried Fin du Monde, Maudite, or Trois Pistoles (dark) from Unibroue? Usually it comes in 750ml bottles, and some of the gourmet grocery stores here have it.
I'll have to look for Le Cheval Blanc next time we're seeking a little Canadian refreshment.
Montreal is a wonderful city, as well as is Ottawa, but for food/drink, people-watching, and general laying about I think Quebec City is one of the most wonderful places.
SP, of *course* I've tried all of those. Had a Trois Pistoles last night, as a matter of fact. The weird little gas-station-cum-Pakistani restaurant down the street has 'em all, too.
When I went beer shopping in Montreal, I bought a four-pack of Maudite. The cashier couldn't do a price check over the intercom, because "maudite" is apparently some sort of oath in Quebecois.
It translates literally as "the damned," but probably is more equivalent to the American English expression "goddamittohell" often used by lousy golfers of my parents' generation.
One of the nice things about our cultural era was the explosion of variety of well-crafted beers. Back in the day, the only thing we had besides mass-produced plonk was Molsons, which was of course itself mass-produced plonk.
I am very happy for you and your appreciation of Unibroue and other fine brews, and your general concern for good food and drink. Bon appetite!
I myself put together a white lasagne with bechamel, red onions, bacon, mushrooms, roasted-red-peppers, and Jack layers this morning.
Looks pretty, tastes good. I'm really not bragging. I just think that good slow food, family, delicious beverages, meaningful work, and maybe toss in a little good music, well, that's what life is for.
Probably you would remember where the brain is if you were trained.
bwaha,
yrsis
Post a Comment