Margaret Pilgrim

Sorry indeed about your mishap and confounded by your horrible food. Next time, and I hope there isn't one, opt for CPMC Van Ness in SF. Truly outstanding food. Order yourself from an extensive menu. Delivered individually within 20 minutes. Great orthopaedic care.

Note that different brands, maybe even different jars, are hotter than others. I'd taste carefully before adding brine to other dishes. (I have one expensive jar in the fridge that is too hot for anyone in the family.)

Bouncing off "Don't ask; don't tell", Don't look, don't smell. Sorry, but you asked.

Okay, I'll bite. We were seated for dinner at a favorite tiny restaurant in Paris. Young cadre, working their hearts out. Two older women were seated next to us, one quite pleasant, the other a real doozy. The doozy croons to the waiter, "I'm a vegetarian. I just know that your wonderful chef will whip up something amazing for me!" Their first course arrives and the jerk forks through hers, glancing across the table at her companion's plate, finally announcing, "Why, mine is exactly like yours but without the meat!" I had to resist a triumphant fist pump!

Same here. It is one of those classics that family members verbally fight over before you go. Like, "The juicer is MINE!" "No way! I was using it before you were born!" "Not true! Anyway, I've used it a lot more than you." And, yes, as I remember, cost $3 at a garage sale.

Word.

Instant mashed potatoes (Ore-Ida or Betty Crocker) are my country go-to on first night rotis-chicken night. Fast gravy from canned chicken broth + rotis drippings. Warm comfort after a long car ride.

Some time ago I wrote about my frustration trying to cook for someone with different taste, Most responders counseled that they simply cooked things their sweeties liked. I couldn't get across that the problem was different taste rather than preferred dishes. Like pepper in this thread.

My go-to for 65 years https://www.thebuenavista.com/home/home.html

Something definitely weird here. I find both swordfish and shark to be very mild fish. As suggested, freshness must have been a factor here.

The brewing method shown in the video reminds me of "camp coffee" my mother used to make in the Sierras when I was a child.

margarine, the kind with the yellow dye blob cut out. (Blue Bonnet?) In the US, this was the norm during WWII. My mother used to save "top milk", the cream on then unhomogenized milk, and beat it into the shortening-like margarine along with the coloring capsule. She was highly incensed by an in-law who served the white stuff untreated. AKA slovenly.

I used to make something very similar that was a Greek walnut pie. Always a lot of bang for the effort. Think "coiled baklava". Thanks for the reminder.

Sounds like you are intuitively on a good track. vis a vis...

Using a peeler (and if so, what kind) or boiling water?

Bresse chicken is an interesting product. Hard to top as a source of superb broth, but temperamental in other dishes. I have had some pretty awful renditions in good restaurants in Bresse. Finally learned to choose something else.

I am reminded of a charity garage sale I attended. I gave the cashier my paddle-type grater for pricing. "Oh, that's awfully nice", she croons. "What does it go on." Feeling frisky, I answered, "The end of your arm."

Amen, Sister. In our house, it's "Where are the eggs?" or "...the bread?" The fragile things you pull out of the cart and set in the area before the belt...and which you leave, essentially abandoned, in that limbo area while the rest of your order proceeds through checkout.

God bless her! She is giving vegans a good name.

Holy Sheep is a lovely (slightly) aged sheep gouda. At West Coast Grocery Outlet now. Quite addictive.

Snowdonia Green Thunder (with herbs and garlic) makes a killer grilled cheese sandwich, especially with slices of kosher dills. And kiss of Dijon,

I had a relative who “overhydrated” with that ‘ice water’.

This is devastating news. I wish I had taken time to tell her how much I appreciated her input. Very hard for me to digest much less accept.

It's an inside joke I tell myself when I realize that my habits don't parallel those of my alter-ego. In this case, choosing convenience over the daily ritual of choosing products from individual specialty vendors.

You'll never be French either. 🙃