I used to be such a travel pro, packing a bag the size of my head that was filled with magically matching and essential clothes... Now traveling is my job, and I'm fucking it up left and right.
Author: zora
Julia!
First the Froog, and now Julia Child dies! I didn’t learn as much from her as others have, because I didn’t ever really see her TV show, but I did appreciate that she always had a nice soft stick of butter sitting around, and drank wine while she cooked. And I can’t really imagine the benighted pre-Julia era of American food, though my father has occasionally spoken of those dark days when there weren’t even fresh mushrooms in the grocery stores.
I feel a little like when the old country music greats started kicking off–first Tennessee Ernie Ford, then Waylon Jennings, then Johnny Cash. It’s all downhill from here. Shit.
I imagine that all over the country tonight, people will be cooking tribute meals to Julia and toasting her, maybe even ritually dropping turkeys on the floor. Oh, I feel so sad.
Mexico, ho!
Part of the reason I'm not writing much as that I'm prepping for another short-notice trip to Mexico. Frantically trying to finish current book so I can get started on another book. Happily, I feel like I'm over the hump in terms of terrible hotels to visit, so maybe this trip will be more leisurely...Didn't I say that last time?
Why choose?
The Grilled Duck
This weekend was really a return to the Astoria salad days, when I would spend the day toddling from one fascinating grocery store to another, and then spend hours cooking dinner.
Get Your War Cake On
My friend Adriana just alerted me to another food blog, The Amateur Gourmet, where a friend has been blogsitting and wrote a bit about baking a cake inspired by WWII rations.
Moving On
To continue the analogy of my Prune employment ending like a bad relationship, I am now happily to the point where I've pretty much forgotten we ever had sex.
More southern action
Since we're on a little bit of a 'cue tip (I crack myself up), here's a link to Timothy C. Davis, a witty southerner who knows more about the subject than me (and makes better jokes about it too).
A good day
As you might have noted from the constant references to the KC and the Rover, I haven't been getting out of my neighborhood much. Which is a great testament to Astoria, but I was going a little stir-crazy when Tal called on Saturday to urge me to go to the barbecue in Flushing Meadows.
News from a country mouse
"...lunch at applebee's which surprised me by being good... who knew? or am i really turning into country mouse, satisfied with barley? shoot me...!"