NeroW

Did you really give the cheese to a homeless guy, Dean? That's awesome! Sorry I missed it. I'm broke. Does anyone need a babysitter? I promise I can be good! And I have references, all from Kids Who Love Me To Babysit For Them, and their grateful parents. Did you guys gossip about me? **insert panting, drooling emoticon here**

I was thinking the same thing. You should not encourage my sick nature.

The title of this thread is the funniest thing I've read on eGullet yet today.

Business? Business is for squares.

Cool--I forgot about this. I have a Baking 101 practical that day, so I'll have my whiskey pants on (i.e., post-practical student uniform). Promise not to laugh.

Leftover from bake shop: my orange-zest white chocolate scones (2) mini fruit tarts (pate sucree, pastry cream, kiwi, strawberry, etc), I ate 2 Now feel as if I may vomit. Sugar.

Runs? That's no good. I'm furtively sipping a (rather cloudy, damnit) consomme in the school library. EDIT: to say I'm about to mosey over to a spot where I can turn this consomme into beer.

I regularly drink Gallo, Masson, etc., which may be considered "bad wines." But I pay no mind, and very little money. I can't think of a wine that was so bad I gave it away ( ) or poured it out ( ). You all can donate your bad wines to the NeroW Scholarship Fund.

eGullet. Mise en place. Finishing with butter. Kosher salt. "Pro method" of chopping onion. Trusting my instincts as to flavor and textural matching. Sharp-as-shit knives. Tourne.

I agree wholeheartedly. Fat Bastard is the best name for a wine. Ever.

A roast beef sandwich on "Italian" bread (does this term have any meaning?) with romaine, sharp cheddar, tomato, and mayo. Lays Kettle Cooked. A Cherry 7UP. And a few of those little chocolate-chip Famous Amos cookies. The 7UP is in preparation for the 5,000,000th Annual Kalamazoo's Blues Fest tonight, during which I will consume much beer, and be forced by my bladder to use a Portajon. Earlier today, BLTs about 3 inches thick, with jalapeno cheddar potato chips, coffee, Bloody Marys, and cranberry juice, straight out of the bottle. Too many beverages wore me out. I took a nice long nap, lulled to sleep by the sound of the neighbor's lawnmower. Summer.

That's very kind of you! When I invite dinner guests into the kitchen to assist with a course, they laugh at me. And Chef Fowke, that story makes me smile. See?

Oooh...the one at Lake and Nicollet in Minneapolis. If you show up after bar call time, they always give you one less slider than you order. When you go back to complain, they holler "you're drunk and can't count." Ha! Ha, ha! I just now read this. "You're drunk and can't count!" That's great.

No! The last one? The surface has not been scratched!

I'm glad I'm not the only person who thinks Red Stripe is shit. For a while, I thought I'd give it a go, because the bottle was so cute. Plus, dude, it's the whole Jamaican thing. Speaking of cute packaging, I'm drinking one of them Heineken's in a keg-can as I type this. I don't like Heineken in any form, but I was suckered into drinking this because 1). it's the last beer in the fridge (only-slightly-better Corona gone), and 2). the can is so cute. Just like a little keg! Alas. It still tastes like piss. I'm a sucker for cute packaging. EDIT: Jason, I like Presidente as well. It was beer-of-the-week at Quenchers (Western & Fullerton in Chicago) not long ago, and I was happy.

My mom just confessed her love for Mountain Dew when she's hungover. Which is funny, because she turns her nose up at it and calls it "hillbilly piss" at all other times.

Half-pot of coffee. A Red Bull on the train.

I guess it's the same principle as a chef's apron, eh? All mine have short ties. And I can't comprehend buying new ones for home. I can't even keep my school uniforms clean, and no laundry in my building.

Sounds and looks beautiful, Dean.

Finally, something in common. I also tourne with no board. I find that I prefer to tourne while sitting in a chair. I use a board unless I'm feeling very lazy (i.e., it's 4 AM and I MUST slice and eat 20 pieces of cheese), or if I am in a big hurry and slicing something directly into the bowl/pan, like mushrooms, or garlic.

At school, the boys stick clothespins to that piece of ass-fabric. I think it looks kind of funny, myself, especially when a girl is running down the hall in a hurry--waddling rapidly in the big boy-tailored pants, thunking clogs, and that piece of fabric in the back, like a little tail. We look a bit like mama ducks. I don't wear either a coat or an apron at home, unless I happen to have nice clothes on, which is almost never the case. If I wore a coat at home, everyone would make fun of me. A chef's apron is pretty much worthless without its coat. And I can't stand those over-the-neck aprons anymore. No place to hang the towel.

*looking at can of Sweet Mesquite BBQ Pringles discontentedly* Hmm . . . curry? Now them's chips.

You mean the excess fabric that sticks out over your butt?

torakris! I'm surprised at you. I'm wearing jeans, a brown leather belt, and a gray T-shirt. Birkenstocks with a hole in the right sole. One ring: third finger of left hand. I'm eating a random cheese that was on the counter when I got home to my mom's, Gruyere I think, warm and mushy, and some wheat-type crackers. Second Corona. No one is here to make me food, or to greet me. I believe I will search the house until I find something to eat.

Oh, man. Thanks Basildog! I can't believe I've not thought of this yet.