GG Mora

Self-buttering toaster.

Yum! Recipe?

Sexiest or most sensual? Big diff. Yeah, there are all those delightful soft-focus slow-moving caress-and-savor-the-food scenes. But does anyone else recall the scene in the remake of "The Postman Always Rings Twice" in which Jack Nicholson's character nails Jessica Lange's on the kitchen table, flour and bread dough be damned? Now that raised some goose-flesh.

I was surprised to see that olive oil is an ingredient in my Dove skin toner! My husband spent some time in Greece when he was in the Air Force & learned there to use olive oil as a skin moisturizer, tanning oil and, umm, lubricant. Still does.

Pack a few small bags full. Leave them conspicuously in church pews (on Sunday), on Post Office work tables, in the passenger seat of unlocked cars, on stranger's doorsteps. A fellow in town here takes those that have grown to baseball-bat size and impales them at strange angles on his fence posts.

Rots, man. I'm outta town for the next 5 days, so I'll miss out. Bloggedy.

I like plain lemongrass tea. Nothing added. It has a natural sweetness and hints of vanilla under the bright citrusy stuff. It's hugely refreshing and thirst-quenching, especially on beastly hot summer days...if we were ever to get any, that is. I used to have a Viet/Thai food stand at the local farmer's market & every week we'd make 3 gallons of lemongrass tea. We set up at 8:30; the tea was usually gone by 10.

Correct. There's always Five O'Clock. But things haven't gotten that bad...yet. In truth, the pendulum is on the return swing, and I'm eyeing the Charbay vodkas salaciously.

You don't eat crow? I'm too late to help Varmint, but a caterer I used to work for would scoop out blanched baby pattypan squash and fill them with tuna tartare. Of course, it wasn't really the squash that made this so delicious. But it sher was purty.

This being My Year of Living Penuriously, it's a half-gallon jug of Schmirnoff's red, replaced as necessary.

Umm...no. No border there. They ARE theft. Some of you folks have me thinking I must live in a parallel universe – one where integrity for its own sake is a charming relic from the olden days.

Andouillette.

You commute to work on your bike. Excellent. All year long? How far? BTW, I love the first sorbet photo. Composition, color, texture, contrast....Nice.

Oh, goody: young blood. Welcome to Blogworld! Lucky Charms.

Um...the meals might be pretty good, actually. My visits to Costco always result in 4 cases of Capris and at least 5 lbs. of Honey-Nut Cheerios in addition to shocking quantities of other stuff that may seem unsavory until I explain that I have an 11- and 13-yr. old eating me out of house and home (and that I only get to Costco about every 2 months). I'm not in love with the idea of Capri Sun juices, but since the kids have real grapefruit juice at most breakfasts and drink about a quart of milk each PER DAY and the Capris are one-a-day in the lunch box, I don't feel too bad. I think I'm coming across a bit defensive here, but really I'm as shocked as you are since I'm still adjusting to the growing kids arrived newly in my life just 2 years ago. I happened to slip into Costco one day with my best friend in tow...she's known me since before the husband and kids and she was pale and speechless by the time I checked out. indeed.

Wow. Would that be ChefGEB for Graham Elliot Bowles? Welcome® to Gullet, and congratulations on being named one of F&W's Best New Chefs. I have not been to your place, yet, but it is #1 on my list. I'm just down in South Londonderry. My employment of late has kept me from dining out as I would like to, but a new contract will have that tidied up in a month or so. I've heard & read so many good things about Jackson House & can't wait to check in. The restaurant scene in SoVT is pretty dodgy – seems most of the high-end joints are sticking to the tried and true; many of the places attempting "creative cuisine" are way off the mark. Sounds like you're breaking the mold. You still using Diane St. Clair's butter?

My first andouillette experience was in Sancerre, and I had no idea what I was about to eat, until it was too late. I was with a group, touring a few of the vineyards, and we were offered a choice of andouillette or something else (can't remember what). The andouillette was described simply as a sausage. There was a distinctly intestinal smell wafting from the kitchen, and my tablemate explained things just as my plate was set in front of me. But I'm adventurous enough, so I dug in. They were small and delicate looking, served with sautéed young potatoes and a tart, buttery sauce made with a reduction of the local white wine. The sauce was a perfect foil for the sausage – really, um, "cut the shit", if you will. Another time I ordered andouillette at Brasserie Lipp (hoping for repeated deliciousness) and fared only slightly better than Jack. This sausage was big and ungainly and looked rather like the penis of a mid-sized farm animal. Its presentation was somewhat artless: smacked on a plate with some plainish potatoes on it, a large crock of mustard on the side. When I cut into the beast, the tightly coiled intestinal matter within sprang forward, sort of like one of those slinky-snake-in-a-can numbers, only without the delight. Clearly, the guts of this sausage were not handled as conscientiously as those in my Sancerre variant – the smell and flavor were strong, pungent and unpleasant. I managed to choke down half the andouillette, all of the potatoes, and copious amounts of beer as a chaser. I didn't get sick (my sympathies, Jack) but I certainly considered it. As Bux describes so well, the andouillette experience varies wildly. If I could be assured of something like my Sancerre sausage every time, I'd go for it again and again. But there's always the danger of a Brasserie Lipp repeat. Edited to add l'esprit de l'escaliers: guess ordering andouillette is always a crap shoot.

After my first full day in XMhelL ( You mean people do this for a living? Oh, wait...I'm one of 'em ), make it a triple vodka and tonic. Vodka brand doesn't matter (Schmirnoff Red is what's on hand), Canada Dry Tonic, please, and about a quarter of a lime. Edit: Make it a quadruple.

Creamy, vinegary Vidalia onion slaw.

Yum. Not exclusively a southern thing in the least. I like it vinegary and hot, and I do make my own – with garlic, onion, poblanos (adds an interesting flavor component), jalapenos, sweet red pepper, red pepper flakes, cayenne and cumin seed. Great on fresh biscuits, served alongside cream-cheese scrambled eggs. Because peppers have little or no natural pectin, making pepper jelly requires adding pectin. So far my recipe always comes up a little hard; I want to try experimenting with making my own pectin this year.

Nothing too wierd....ketchup, cheddar (melted), thinly sliced onion, sliced tomato (in season). My heresy goes inside the burger: A1 Steak Sauce mixed into the meat, with a little Woosterchestershire®. Anyone make their own burger buns? I use the recipe from "City Cuisine". A good bun hides a multitude of sins.

Ah, now it's my turn: Bündnerfleisch. See? We can all learn a thing or two from one another. When you put it like that, it sounds pretty damned good.

Curious that Phonak, the Swiss team, is comprised mostly of Spaniards. To truly honor Hamilton, perhaps one should serve a nice bundesfleisch (sp?) paella.

Amen to that, sister. Undersalting or, worse, failing to salt altogether, is the #1 all-time worst crime against food.

Tyler Hamilton is from Marblehead, Massachusetts. They may not go over well with the French palate, but fried Ipswich clams and Boston baked beans would be appropriate. Tyler's really going to be one to watch this year. Let's not forget the he placed 4th overall in the 2003 Tour, even after breaking his collarbone in the Stage 1 crash...and so riding compromised for the entire Tour.