Mix cocoa powder and sugar 50/50 and add enough water to make a syrupy substance. Beat with fork until lumps vanish.
Meanwhile, in a pan, bring to a simmer a mixture of half water and half milk that also contains crushed coffee beans, vanilla, red pepper, black pepper, cloves, cinnamon, and vanilla.
When hot, add A to B. Strain, and drink.
Orange peel, cinnamon sticks, whipped cream, and brandy or whiskey optional. Moaning encouraged.
Careful, it's hot.
I'm still reading Peter Ackroyd's "authoritative" Shakespeare: The Biography. (please note direct article.)
He's doing a nice job of rounding up the various legends and getting them all in one place, at least, and apocrypha are clearly marked. And some of the actual details of setting and history are priceless. (What was the flooring material used in the Henley Street house? Ackroyd knows.) His writing style is clear and engaging, and I am loving the span of his grasp on period history.
But here we go again with the reliance on textual analysis to 'prove' or 'disprove' various lines of speculation. What's especially priceless is that in one paragraph, he'll comfortably dismiss a spate of competent naval terminology with an airy wave of his hand to Shakespeare's teeming imagination, and a bit further on, start claiming that the man's comfort with legal terminology indicates he was a law clerk or scrivener.
Yes, and I'm a linguist from Perth.
Grr. Will somebody please explain to these alleged scholars that writers do, in fact, write about things they haven't done and places they haven't been? And that we do on occasion pop by with a basket of scones and ask the nice neighbor for details of his military service, because it might come in handy to know someday?
Also, at least kick a few leaves over the bias, would you?