racheld
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Posts posted by racheld
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165---The Prince of Egypt? I haven't seen the movie, but I read the Book.
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A couple enter a restaurant, and the lady goes off to the ladies' room to neaten her hairdo. She returns and is majorly P.O.ed that her gauche escort has not only ordered for himself, but is too busy gobbling oysters to rise and hold her chair.
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I asked on another thread: What's with the Purple Prose all of a sudden?
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It may be just my computer, but what's with all the Purple Prose?
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Ducky, Dear, you're still here!!!
I'm glad you're persevering---every day it brights me to see your spot still perking along.
And I, too, admire your new avatar. I DO wish the gallant magenta feather still sat royally on your chapeau---it makes a lovely beacon for us short folk as we follow along in your avant garde steps, onward and upward to better music, better cooking, better times.
Sally forth forever.
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#155 = Mary Poppins! Tuppence a bag!
Supercalifragilisticexpealidocious!!!
A spoonful of sugar for you!!
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Definite DIVE!!! And I've never understood before the lure of climbing a mountain. . .
Wow. You DO know how to lead with your best shot. That's a picture for the Wall of Fame.
Welcome, DesertCulinary!
Marlene--- there you go again, with the Walk Right In chocolate.
And Great Big Ole Kudos to everyone---every day and every picture is a lovely surprise and revelation.
I've steamed some cauliflower and dressed it with lime-seasalt butter, and have a pot of little Calrose pearls awaiting the lamb curry with coconut milk. Fruit salad on the side.
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162---TWISTER?
FOOD!! FOOD! FOOD!
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Diminishing Ducky Dear,
It's been a lovely week, a joyous ride, and a Grand Tour of fooderies. Thank you for the invitation---lovely pictures, lovely prose, and lovely music-by-proxy.
rachel
Voluntary Quillette
Order of the Magenta Feather
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Had to resurrect this thread to add: olive, green pepper, mushroom and sausage pizza, dipped in a batter made from fettucini alfredo with shrimp, mashed potatoes, pancake batter and milk, deep fried, then wrapped with ham and seaweed, sprinkled with furikake and dipped in barbecue sauce. I wouldn't have believed it myself if one of my friends hadn't mentioned it again this morning.
Edited to add, as my memory becomes less hazy: The night started off with three pounds of shrimp, which went into the aformentioned pizza, as well as:
Shrimp chowder/bisque made with shrimp stock (made with the heads, some red onion, and just about every spice and herb in the kitchen, simmered for a few hours), salmon cream cheese, butter, milk, mashed potatoes, and more shrimp.
Deep fried shrimp shells sprinkled with salt, deep fried shrimp shells filled with salmon cream cheese and pureed shrimp.
Deep fried shrimp dipped in hot sauce/barbecue sauce/cream cheese.
Also, everything was deep fried in olive oil, which is the only oil my friends had.
Somewhere in the great and illustrious history of eGullet, someone christened me the Goddess of Lily-Gilding.
I hereby renounce, abdicate, forswear and relinquish all claim to said title, giving all rights and appurtenances thereto into the greasy hands of jkonick. Wear the laurels with pride and do not drop the scepter.
(And mop a lot; sliding off a cloud is WAY dangerous).
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154: Added Clue: Every meal in the movie was disrupted by SOMETHING, but no other by money.
155: Added CLUE: BAGS OF breadcrumbs. Cheap.
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Now THIS excerpt MOOOOVED. Engrossing and interesting---an evocative, tastebud-tingling and Right THERE description of how much heat there really IS in that kitchen.
And I wonder if you STILL taste your salt.
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#140 sounds like Neverending Story to me!
Un-Hunh. You're an Atreyu fan, I can tell.
Me---couldn't hear enough from the snail.
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I've never made the cake, and the only recipe I've ever known was the one for twenty or so cakes, recited by dear Julie Harris in Belle of Amherst.
She stood on the stage, naming off endless ingredients in enormous quantities, all the while stirring an imaginary bowl cradled in her arms. I would imagine that the REAL bowl would be the size of a bathtub, needing a canoe paddle to stir.
I'm glad to know a real person who carries on the tradition. Could you post a photo?
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Add-a-Clue for #155: Breadcrumbs.
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140: Added clue: A potful of wiggly things, sampled by the cook.
154: Add to clue: A floor picnic of roast chicken, rudely interrupted by monetary concerns and time constraints.
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Oh, Ducky Dear!!! It's YOU!!
You've brightened this rainy thundery Monday like Dorothy's door.
Looking forward to following that purple feather high and low, and enjoying every minute of your fun life. And onward and outward, of course.
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Potato gratin with Locatelli Romano.
Just lovely. I thought for a moment those were Lucy's Reblochon-topped potatoes, down to the pan with the little handles, though hers has been used and loved for a longer time, I think.
These look equally delicious, and I loved the blog with the recipe.
Welcome. agalarneau!!!
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The Stillmeadow Books, and anything else by Gladys Taber. She woke to birdsong or snowcover, drank her strong stove-perked coffee, and stirred up some sourdough pancakes from her own years-old starter. Butternut Wisdom, indeed.
They're country books, walking the woods with a dog books, pot of beans simmered all day while writing her columns books. I love the line, "I think beans in any form are elegant."
The books are dated by their devices, their appliances, the cutting of wood, the political references, but I still re-read them and the great three-ring of her columns I clipped for years from women's magazines. There's a great peace to the telling, day-to-day happenings small as a new-found bird nest, and the immense quiet of a snowbound week with a full larder, a woodbox to hand, and the sure knowledge that no one could break the solitude before the melt.
On a par in one volume is Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings' Cross Creek, with the orange groves, the corn patch, the Gullah cook whose loyalty and fierce companionship season each day as richly as her rough hands season the collards and pone and pie. The book is one long hot Summer stretching a lifetime, of swamps and the delectable froglegs and fish they yield, of coffee with cream that mounds on the spoon, of a canoe trip with her feet straddling a Dutch oven of homemade rolls which rose in the heat of the sun as they paddled. They stopped for the night, piled coals on the pan, and ate feathery rolls with pan-fried fish just pulled from the water they had ridden all afternoon.
I still re-read sections of my Larousse just for the beauty of the words and images, and just bought a 1926 French edition, which I've been meaning to get to all Winter. Might be nice to see what it gains in the translation.
And, of course, there are all my Foxfires. Cliche lined up on a shelf.
My favorite of all, I think, is the little spiral-bound cookbook from a church in Alabama. It was in a house we rented for a time, along with everything else which had belonged to the owner, an elderly woman who had gone into a nursing home. We slept in her beds, gathered the clean, fragrant sheets from her clothesline every week, ate from her cut-glass sherbet dishes, read her books.
When we were leaving, I knew the son was to auction off all the belongings, so I asked the realtor if I might buy the little cookbook with its margin-filled writing from its owner's hand. She gave it to me, and I've had it almost twenty years now. I smile every time I look at the flyleaf---in her beautifully-formed letters taught in another time, it reads:
Butter Scot Pie. Look on page where pie are.
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Another movie: Sugar and HIGH TEA.
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Another Movie:
A floor picnic of roast chicken, rudely interrupted by monetary concerns.
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Happy GREEN to everyone!!! I usually have a nice hunka corned beef simmering for this holiday, with carrots, tiny potatoes and cabbage wedges to be added later. We always have several mustards, a loaf of Shapiro's rye, and maybe a bean salad alongside.
But this afternoon is a housewarming for DS#2 and DDIL, given by several of their friends, and DDIL requested that I make her favorite "rollups"---two kinds, one with Cuisinart-whirled green pepper, jalapeno, and green onion tops mixed into cream cheese with a little crushed garlic and a bit of mayo. Spread onto big flour tortillas, rolled, and cut into inch or so slices to arrange pinwheel on the platter.
The same with mock crab, creamcheese, onion tops and garlic, ditto tortillas.
We'll be having munchies late, so dinner will probably be light (and not corned beef)
Maybe tomorrow. -
monavano is correct with Fried Green Tomatoes, which we can probably retire now.
And on Blether's latest clue: Cold hot dogs were one of the dug-out-of-the-fridge items during a mutual midnight munchie session between Debra Winger at her apartment, and Robert Redford at his, mulling a court case and their growing attraction for each other, in Legal Eagles. The beer, milk, etc., I didn't notice---I was too wrapped up in the dancing.
And would #147 be The Break-Up? Haven't seen it, but the clues lead that way---maybe she just couldn't get rid of him any other way?
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Prince of Tides it is. The tiger was a sideshow "pet" of the family, and the priceless violin was held hostage over the edge of the New York penthouse balcony at a dinner party, to make its owner apologize for insulting his own wife at the dinnertable.
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This movie has probably already appeared, but Toliver didn't say "don't"
A glass jar is dipped into a beehive and emerges filled with honey. It is then wiped "clean" with a dry cloth and presented to a picnic guest.
(AS IF it wasn't sticky as all get-out.--Hollywood makes some classic blunders)
Buford on Gordon Ramsay
in Food Media & Arts
Posted
Hey, Guys! While some of the PTB are online---could you see why the indexes seem stuck WAY back from the real "last post" counter?