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8 Jan

I don’t actually remember making this but lucky my friend remembered for me and there’s some horrendous picture of me during the cooking process.  It was a deadly combination of Inauguration Night and our friend’s birthday in Milan.  We stumbled home to Via Caradosso 7 and needed some food.  Spaghetti, olive oil, sauteed brussels sprouts, cayenne and black pepper all tossed together.  It’s spicy, simple, has some veggie in it and enough carbs to make you sober up.  And it’s pretty!

I revisited the Caradosso concoction last night for dinner and discovered how pretty brussels sprout stems are and their insides look kind of like brains.

Cigars and Beer

15 Dec

Almost finished with this Art History paper and I happily stumbled upon a great little poem in a book of poetry compiled by Joseph Knight in 1897 that is devoted to Pipe and Pouch: The Smoker’s Own Book of Poetry.  The tiny book gave me some great examples of how smoking, smoke, pipes, cigars and cigarettes were commonly referred to as women, brides, wives and lovers, but it also gave me these sweet stanzas:


by George Arnold


with my beer

I sit,

While golden moments flit.


They pass

Unheeded by;

And, as they fly,


Being dry,

sit idly sipping here

My beer.

Oh finer far

Than fame or riches are

The graceful smoke — wreaths of this cigar!


Should I

Weep, wail, or sigh?

What if luck has passed me by?

What if my hopes are dead,

My pleasures fled?

Have I not still

My fill

Of right good cheer, —

Cigars and beer?

Go, whining youth,


Go, weep and wail,

Sigh and grow pale,

Weave melancholy rhymes

On the old times,

Whose joys like shadowy ghosts appear, —

But leave me to my beer!

Gold is dross

Love is loss;

So, if I gulp my sorrows down,

Or see them drown

In foamy draughts of old nut-brown,

Then do I wear the crown

Without a cross!”

Knight, Joseph, compiler. Pipe and Pouch: The Smoker’s Own Book of Poetry. Boston: L.C. Page and Company, Inc., 1897.

All I Want is Your LIFE!!!

16 Nov

After my roommate and I gorged ourselves on cheap, greasy delivery Chinese food we decided to kick back, digest and have a few laughs.  Thanks to Mel Brooks’ genius we fell into Dracula: Dead and Loving It, the rest is history.  In true Mel Brooks fashion, the movie had us flirting with the possibility of peeing our pants laughing throughout the entire feature.  Peter MacNicol delivered his best performance as Renfield, the enslaved Brit of Dracula (Leslie Nielsen) with a zest for insects and an insatiable palate.

Dracula: Dead and Loving It

I particularly love that Renfield’s luncheon companion, the director of the sanitorium, thinks he’s crazy not just for eating bugs but for the way in which he eats them.

Om nomnomnom

15 Nov

In my perpetual state of crackedoutdom, preparing for my senior Art History exam, I sometimes stumble upon gems like this…

Hans Baldung Grien, Death and the Maiden, 1518-1520

Hans Baldung Grien, Death and the Maiden, 1518-20

Death looks more than a little peckish here as he takes a chomp out of this already dead looking lady’s cheek.  I’ve seen plenty of memento mori in my 4 years of studying art history but this is the first uncluttered image of Death literally owning some poor girl.  Usually, the subject is portrayed through a single skull, still lifes, dances of the dead or the wildly chaotic scenes from the Last Judgement.  The composition here is focused, central and sparse.  Of particular interest is Grien’s use of a black background which is traditional for portraiture or still life painting.  Reminds me of the lines from Snoop’s latest musical contribution to the world, Gangsta Luv, “it’s like True Blood/I sink my teeth in”.

Grill Mistress

1 Sep

So ok, my girls and I just put together our grill with no man help and then grilled some mad delicious burgers, dogs (Hebrew National all beef franks are great) and zucchini.  Real talk.  We used lamb for the burgers — and may I just say that these beat bison burgers any day.  Delicious.  And knockin’ em back with a Fort Collins Big Shot brown ale wasn’t so bad either.  Grilled up some zucchini and made the RAG salad and s’mores to finish.  Life isn’t so bad as a senior in college right now…until I realized that I actually have work.  Wee womp.

Dear Pork Belly,

27 Aug

How I love thee. You are smokey, tender, fatty, delicious.  You are lovely in a risotto which is the first way I had you.  You are also nice with a glassful of St. Bernardus 12.  You were cared for and prepared by the genius trio at Downtown 140.  Let’s be friends for always.  K thanks bye.


A Hoppy Pipper

A Sad

26 Aug

Today I had a sad.  I tried my hand at making homemade pasta.  DISASTER!  First I tried all by hand – got my big wooden cutting board, made the volcano shape out of the flour, poured the eggs inside.  Then things went terribly wrong.  One wall of my flour volcano sustained a collapse and egg lava started oozing out.  Then my hands turned into sticky doughy monsters.  So, I started over and this time used the food processor.  Things went much better but in the end the dough sucked – as in, not tasty after cooked.

fig, cheddar, big honkin knife

The fun, and successful, part of this venture was the filling.  I decided to screw around a bit in the kitchen and ended up pureeing fresh figs, marcona almonds, sharp white cheddar, cardamon (another mistake), ground ginger and black pepper.  It was unique, a touch spicy and a little sweet. I think it would be lovely if the pasta dough itself were actually tasty and bathed in a cream sauce (one of my friends suggested a saffron cream sauce) and some prosciutto crudo.  All of this was a great way to kill some time, stall packing for school and watch a documentary on Woodstock.  But I still has a sad.

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