I have 43 unpublished drafts on my blog posting list. So I’ve decided to fill in some empty spaces during then during this boring month when I am not eating or drinking. (sad face emoji)
I don’t know how this never got published except that it is incomplete. I current;y have 1,742 published posts.
This is my thousandth post. Actually my 1,001st. Here is some stuff I liked.
Tomatoes, the reason for living
Spring brings the promise of summer which exists only to produce tomatoes. And basil. Well, corn, too. But primarily tomatoes.
A recurring theme.
It was edible. Or, in any event, I ate it.
Something I say a lot. Except about anchovies.
But in the mood for cheese and crackers I walked over to the store and bought a bunch of different kinds of crackers. These, the Pepperidge Farm “Baked Naturals,” (whatever that means) Simply Cheddar, multi-grain cracker chips were disgusting.
I complain a lot.
I am a little daunted by Indian food since I have the highly critical Ashish watching my every move when I make it. I make an awesome biryani that I love but he finds inauthentic. His comments are usually something along the lines of “it’s good, but it’s not Indian.”
The Royal Indian Mounted Food Control Police…
This is the perfect use for iceberg lettuce. In fact, no other lettuce will work as well. Chop the lettuce into cubes, you hope that some of it will stay in that cube shape but no worries if it doesn’t. Slice up some tomatoes, onions and chop some olives (I used some Mediterranean herbed, dry-cured pitted, things I get at Whole Foods in their olive bar) and you can add capers and pepperoncini (although technically this is getting a little too fancy). Feta cheese is nice too.
Douse it well with white wine vinegar (must be vinegary) and olive oil. Salt and pepper and
let it sit for 2 hours at least. At room temp.
Still love it.
(And there are more pickles, olives and capers on the other shelves.) The thing about pickles and peppers, and I particularly like hot banana peppers, they kill my appetite when I get home. So rather than opening a box of, say, yellow cake mix, and eating the whole thing with a spoon the second I get in the door home from work, I can slam down a half of a jar of pickles and feel like I’ve eaten something and kill my raging appetite for a good 14 minutes.
I love pickles.
I have no wine, no food. It’s time to pay the piper. I have had enough food and beverage in the last 30 days to last me for 5 months. I don’t need to weigh myself to know that my pants are hurting me and when your pants become an implement of torture it is time for drastic action.
January, the Month of Pain
It is an outrageously beautiful city. I have been to Bruges, a city in Belgium known for its beauty, a mecca for tourists, and it is lovely, but it’s tarted up to attract visitors. Venice is glorious and so are Paris, Florence, Madrid, London, all the, you know, typical hot spots of Europe but none is lovelier than Ghent. Venice, maybe, but Ghent is a real live city with people, an incredible transit system, real shopping (as opposed to touristy trinket shops), and no matter where you look it’s glorious. OK, the weather’s a little psychotic. And that Flemish language, ugh. Everyone speaks English, though, and that’s a help when you are trying to decide if they are speaking to you or clearing their throats. You can just say “English?” And they actually answer you in something comprehensible.
I love Ghent, Gent, Ghand
I love the Belgians….