Isn't it just the dernier cri? Hahahah....psych. I did buy it recently, though. Whee! The bummer is that it's a real cookbook under the surface -- a different author actually wrote most of the recipies. I was sort of hoping it'd be chock-full of horrible smoothies with saccharine and skim milk dessert fake-outs and rye crispbread treats and vaguely carcinogenic food subsitutes of all kind. It's actually, bizarrely enough, not the world's worst cookbook. Has good advice about feeding one person, which I think is tricky and often ignored. Eggs and cheeses, etc. And nutritionally it focuses a lot on protein, which is kinda cool. It's swung around through all the 9,000 intermediate food fads to be halfway...helpful. Instead of finding this book completely ridiculous (it still is, somewhat), I found myself surprisingly touched thinkin about this generation of women tryin to make chic little meals on tiny apt. stoves...dunno how different it is from my life in 2008. Still trying to figure out how to feed myself without dying of boredom or effort/not go broke/keep ahead of the spoilage rate in the fridge/occasionally have others over without killing myself...What it still also has, thankfully, are hilarious chapter dividers, illustrations, and lots of breathless commentary from the great Helen Hurling B. Lots of psychotic division between what you feed Him and what you yourself (the single gal) eat. Basics for the new girl cook, What to eat in bed, He's mad for sports, Foreign food is fun, Food for the affair, phases I - V... Foods to binge on during heartbreak, dips to make for when he brings his friends to watch the big game, Helen's personal breakfast smoothie recipe, which uses Gladys Lindberg's powdered yeast-liver mix...
If Thursday was for Doris, today is for Bette. Great lineup on TCM -- today -- now! (The Bride Came C.O.D., The Letter, Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, Now, Voyager, All About Eve, Jezebel, Dark Victory, Dangerous, Pocketful of Miracles.). Her 100th birthday was last week; there was a great article in the Times by Terrence Rafferty about her that I thought caught a lot of what is so amazing about La Bette.BTW I am really not feeling Rose McGowan on The Essentials. Was Molly Haskell too knowledgeable or something?
Strangest yootoob find in recent months. A high school marching band playing Leonard Bernstein's Mass. And yet...it makes some musical sense. Drums, horns.
I've been gilmoregirling again (reruns) and I have to say this. The two things they never got right: 1) Emily would never have attended Yale as they seem to imply; in fact, she couldn't have been able to, if she's anywhere near the age she's supposed to be. She would have gone to a Seven Sisters school, probably Vassar, since she was dating a Yale guy. 2) We would know Emily's maiden name.
Enemy mine: radicchio. I'm giving up on it. I hate it. I love lots of bitter, sour, tart, mustardy, pepper things, I just don't like radicchio. It's mean.
Husker du? I learned this song as a kid and sing it all the time, but since I learned it then I have all sorts of expected gaps in lyrics and oft-repeated mistakes that sound right to me now. Never occurred to me to look it up until recently (duh). This is such a great tune. How can you not love "little solar plexus meow meow meow"? Shan't swamp you with all the lyrics, but yay!
O Senor Don Gato was a cat.
(we always sang 'Senor Don Gato was a mighty cat,' I think)
On a high red roof Don Gato sat.
He was there to read a letter,
- (meow, meow, meow)
where the reading light was better,
- (meow, meow, meow)
'Twas a love-note for Don Gato!
"I adore you," wrote the ladycat,
who was fluffy white, and nice and fat.
There was not a sweeter kitty,
- (meow, meow, meow)
in the country or the city
- (meow, meow, meow)
and she said she'd wed Don Gato!
O Senor Don Gato jumped with glee!
He fell off the roof and broke his knee,
broke his ribs and all his whiskers,
- (meow, meow, meow)
and his little solar plexus
- (meow, meow, meow)
"Ay Caramba!!" cried Don Gato...
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