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bear by san

December 2021



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bear by san

I went grocery shopping yesterday, and kit_kindred is in Anaheim until Sunday, which means I get to eat all the things he doesn't like for the next four days.

There is a big basket full of clementines, pomegranates, a pineapple, and a blue hubbard squash on the table. There are apples and beets and cabbage and carrots and celeriac and so forth in the fridge. I'm making borscht today. I'd be making pieroshkis too, but I'm supposed to be eating healthier, and lovely little pastry puffs fried in butter are, alas, not healthy.

But I made a roast chicken for dinner last night*, stuffed with citrus, garlic, and onions. (This is not a stuffing you eat, but mmm is it good in what it does to the meat.) And I have fruit! All the wonderful winter fruit! I may be forced to eat clementines for a week and a half!

Oh noes! OH NOES!

Life is very good. Except that the dog food bag broke open when I tossed it over the gate into the back yard last night, so there's kibble everywhere. Whupsie. The pigeons sent a thank-you note.

*While I was at World Fantasy, my mother-in-law and my husband appear to have hidden the meat thermometers (both of them !?), so if I die of salmonella, you know who to sue.


Meat thermometer. That sounds so dirty.
It's secretly a little bit wonderful when the picky people go away for a little while, isn't it? No matter how much you love them, getting to eat all the yummy things that they turn up their noses at for a few days is glorious.
People don't like clementines?

Those people are not my friends.

(I am in fact eating a clementine as I type this. Not as I type this. But I ate two slices while reading your post, and I will eat a third approximately one point six seconds after hitting 'post comment.')
Indeed, they are fools. Fools!

Soon, I will go make tea in the Ugly Pink Fairy Book Teapot (wonking great cabbage rose on one side, pansies on the other--it's beyond girly and into Victorian) my MiL *also* gave me while I was at WFC, and then I will eat more clementines.

As soon as I clean up the dogfood I missed last night in the dark. *g*
They are my friends, because that means they've left more for me!!

I have gone through multiple (5lb) boxes of satsumas in a week. I'm surprised I didn't turn orange.
sleep in the middle of the bed...

*g* I am lucky if the cats let me have a corner...
clementines... just the word makes me happy.
We discovered, with our roasted chicken last night (must be a trend), that one can brine a chicken for a day (or two if one forgets about it) in a 16 quart camping cooler, then stuff it full of oregano and rosemary, bake it in tera cotta, and oh my oh my.
Why Bear... this is almost food porn!
*G* We have that here sometimes too.

Which reminds me--if there are any other problems you wanted to point out in Stratford Man, this would be the time to do it!
Noted. I'll get to it ASAP. Unfortunately (for my job, at least), it seems mostly perfect. No jarring historical notes have been sounded that alarmed my ears.

I did discover that 10 point type crammed on to 8 1/2 x 11 makes for a poor reading medium. I'll definitely want to re-read it when it's published.

Did I mention I was cast (briefly, then uncast) as the Earl of Oxford for faire? Bear will be thrilled, I thought. She so loathes him. He's a detestable villain.
Thank you!

Somebody noticed that I had MacBeth written twice, so I had to fix that, and I did move around the contruction of the globe a bit, but I don't think many people will twig.

If you notice any real anachronisms in speech or references, I'd appreciate them pointed out too--or any screwed up verb conjugations. I'm not looking for accurate Elizabethan, because it needs to be at least semitransparent to the casual modern reader. But I did catch myself out in "adrenaline" and an "ego" in the modern sense, so I know there are a few slips.

I am so sorry you didn't get to strut about as Oxenforde. But I bet you look better without the peascod doublet.... although we could have used pictures of the Monstrous Adversary. *g*
Interesting, I heard ego used in a rehearsal once and we nailed it. While it's Greek, it hardly enjoys the use in Elizabethan times that it does now due to a certain debunked psychology theorist.
preeecisely. *g*
Geez, you don't need a meat thermometer if you cook a chicken or turkey the way I do. When you shake the pan and the wings and legs fall off, it's done. Easy. :)
When you shake the pan and the wings and legs fall off, it's done.

If only other conclusions in life were this easy to come to. ;)
*g* That's a little overcooked for my taste. I like them *just* done.
"Just done"? Chicken? Eeeeeeeeuuuuuw... My husband, being one of those plaid-shirt lumberjack types, loves to cook on the fire. I've eaten enough pink or red fowl to develop a healthy respect for cooking the crap out of it instead. (Underdone grouse is especially nasty.)

Sorry, Bear, if you died of salmonella, no judge in the land would convict your mom-in-law or husband. :)
Well-cooked chicken is neither pink nor red, my dear. It's cooked through, juicy, and tender.

That's why you use the meat thermometer.
I think we're arguing semantics, chere. In my kitchen, "just done" is rare, while "well-cooked" is exactly what you said -- cooked through, juicy, and tender. Except for me, that also means slow-roasted to the point of falling apart.
Aha. No, we don't use that terminology. Excelsior!
pieroshkis are the Russian/Ukrainian version of the Ubiquitous In Shadow meat dumpling.

They have a flaky tender butter pastry crust instead of a noodly chewy crust, unlike pierogis.
Um. butter pastry. ;-)
Clementines and pineapple?! Wow.

I've had partners who didn't share my food preferences, but those two never hit the radar of forbidden foods.

Now, Ben and I go eating frog fat together. My all-alone indulgence is primarily natto, these days.
Mmmm.... blue hubbard squash
There's too much Jordin doesn't like. I eat it anyway though I usually only eat pork when I eat out. Except bacon. Nobody can live without bacon. Well, ok, nobody Gentile can live without bacon.

When I roast chicken I stuff it with cut up apples and onions. And I eat those apples and onions. While they have perfumed the flesh of the bird, lovely chicken juices have seeped into them and not eating them would be a Horrible Waste. You can also put thick slices of onion under a beef roast to substitute for a rack and then the same thing applies. Of course, you have to like onion, but if you don't you probably shouldn't eat at my house...