And now, an ode to my Hungarian beef stew:

Goulash on the stove
Red as a babboon's backside
Suck it up, noodles!

Haiku. 5-7-5 adds a touch of class to any occasion.

I had crepes for breakfast. I made them in my crepe pan. With crepe batter I made Sunday, specially formulated so that it can sit in my fridge all week for my crepe-making pleasure. I rolled my crepes around veggie sausage and drizzled a little amber maple syrup on them. It was all terribly delicious.

I think I'm interviewing a production assistant intern on Thursday. She hasn't yet accepted the day and time, but I expect she will.

My brain is full of writing ideas. It makes focusing on work difficult, but I'll manage. I'm still not willing to say if I'm writing a book or not. I'll know when I hit 40k words.

Vegan snickerdoodles and maple-oatmeal-raisin-nut cookies FTW. I'm theorizing that cookies without animal ingredients might be best for shipping long distances -- like, say, the Persian Gulf. I wouldn't want them going rancid or something.

That said, Mom tells me packages are getting through quickly...buuuut I like hedging my bets.

Plus, cholesterol-free cookies are love!

I went to Penzeys for my cinnamon. It was worth it. A snickerdoodle is really only as good as its cinnamon. And this cinnamon is awwwwesome.

I really ought to do some housework tomorrow.

The Abridged Yu-Gi-Oh is super special awesome. There are a zillion 5-8 minute episodes. You should watch them all.

I am going to bake snickerdoodles and cook tomato sauce and make up a mess of polenta this weekend. Yippee!

I just made three dozen cupcakes. I thought it might be funny to make a cupcake for every year, but realized quickly when I saw the mounds of chocolate batter that I was going to overshoot that figure by Quite a Lot.

So then guess who accidentally dragged her kitchen towel through a few of them while she was busy rotating the pans?

Yeah. And guess how many cupcakes I now have left?

Yeah.

Maybe if I drop a few more I'll wake up 25.

So anyway, two kinds of cupcakes (chocolate and hummingbird), three kinds of frosting (vanilla buttercream, peanut buttercream, and cream cheese-vanilla), and assorted toppings (toasted pecans, toasted almonds, chocolate chips). It's in my nature to want to bake my own cupcakes on my birthday. Go fig.

Yes,
I am pretty sure
that I
will be making
pain au chocolat
for the GameMaster party
@ SimuCon.

The odometer flips over next week. This birthday is a power of two. The only reason I am cognizant of this is because I work for a game company, and sometimes I have to make DDS files with dimensions with powers of two. Fascinating.

I'm still trying to decide if I will make my birthday outing a reasonable, everyone-friendly request (Old Spaghetti Factory) or a only-for-the-adventurous demand (India Princess). Very likely the former, as we can walk over to the beers-and-cigars place after to watch the game, drink exotic brews, and play pool.

I am thinking about making a large batch of cherry-chocolate cupcakes for work on Monday.

So.

What flavor should the frosting be?

Also: People in Portland are not exactly used to icy weather. I might point my finger and laugh at this, except that I would have probably done the exact same thing if I hadn't been living in Missouri for the last ten years.

Homemade ricotta cheese!  Yes!  I will never buy ricotta again.  Well, unless I have to.

The Vampire game is going away.  I may buy Ptolus, I may not.  Fact is, though I like running campaigns, I do not have the brainjuice to come up with all the plots and crap that go with them.  My frugal brain screams that if I have the time to come up with massive political stories and settings, then I should be writing, and it's probably right.

Ptolus is not a light investment; $120 retail.  Going to see how my tax break works out.  If it's good, I'll get Ptolus.  If it sucks, I won't.  Simple, neh?

I've been listening to a lot of Rancid recently.  And I think I know what I want for my first tattoo.  These two things are not, as far as I know, connected.

I finished cooking and washing everything.  Everything!  Gasp in astonishment at my productivity, mortals!

Not surprisingly, after all that cooking all I had for dinner was a PB&J. 

And now that I have cooked enough food for an army of one, I realize I forgot to make a calzone-type thing.  Sigh.  I might be able to whip something up tomorrow night.  I really like calzone-type things, and I made plenty of tomato sauce, and so...and thus....

My life feels empty without The Sharing Knife to read.  Damn you, Lois.

I have joined novel_in_90 and written my own pretentious introduction!

Half-time for the cook-a-thon.  Two soups, one quick bread, a casserole, and one beer-braised brisket down.  To go: scones, two vegetable stews, tomato sauce, and a lo mein.  I had truly hoped to have it all done, but I underestimated all the things I needed to buy.

I have to come up with a storyline for my Vampire game.  Any ideas?  I suspect ghosts (or a ghost) will be involved, I just don't know how. 

Mike is threatening to leave the game -- something about a social life -- which is a bummer, as he is one of my favorite roleplayers.  C'est la vie.

The Sharing Knife #1 was...unusual.  It is obviously one of a set.  I sat reading it and thinking, "What the hell?  There're no explosions.  No wars.  No massive looming threat dragging the heroes by the ear.  Why am I still reading this?"

And that last was not said (or, rather, thought) with a sneer, but instead with a sort of bewildered wonderment, for even though the last half of the book is more or less "a month in the life of two people who aren't involved in any world-shattering dilemmas", it still tugged me along like the compulsive little monkey I am, driven to know just what happens next.

It is not a typical fantasy at all.  And even so, it propelled me to read and to care about the characters with far more urgency than either of the two other books* I tried to pick up in the last six months.  Both of which I will read, eventually, much as I will eat my vegetables, eventually, but Lois is like the vegetables and the new york strip.  I have a mad girl-crush on her writing, and I am not afraid to say that if she were a man and I were a man I would want her man-babies.

I'll just, um, let you all think about that one.



* To wit: The Scar by China Mieville and Banewreaker  by Jacqueline Carey.  Both are probably lovely novels, but their openings don't tug me at all.

My lemon-cornmeal cookies with golden raisins and rum are favorites of the Moms. Not hard to see why: they've got a pleasant crunch, and they're not tooth-achingly sweet. And I'm happy to make them -- don't get me wrong -- but my brain keeps panning back to the half-full bag of tart dried cherries left over from the Fruitcaking of '06 and, well....

So I think I'll compromise. One batch of the regular, and one batch of orange-cornmeal with tart cherries. They'll contrast nicely on the gift plate, and if they don't eat them, I will.

The biggest hassle of that recipe is the browned butter, but I kind of like playing chicken with dairy fat.

There was no bizarre ice cream made this year, sorry. I was all geared up to do butterscotch, but between being busy and the fine catering the party had, there was simply no time or drive.

Game tomorrow, and I still haven't a clue where it's going.

Note to shemem: Wikipedia knows all about the St. Paul sandwich.

Taste of St. Louis was a touch disappointing, though everything I ate was technically good. I think I expected more tidbits at cheap prices, less whole courses at not-so-cheap prices.

Afterward, I thought I'd skim the surface of sleep and take a short nap, but as it turns out my body was composed of 90% dreamlead, which resulted in a two hour sink that took some effort to swim back out of. I suspect my body was in shock at all that daylight and exercise and food I subjected it to.

I have my meals planned out and bought through next week. Don't call me anal!

Mmm. Pasta Fagioli....

+	cherry pie dough scraps eggs/cream/half n' half from other pie bacon from meatloaf forgotten chunk of Neal's Yard cheddar
quiche lorraine

So good. So rich. Had to bring it into work, lest I asplode from the goodness.

This is not at all unusual. Most of the office has, at some point, brought in food for the others to partake of. Our Christmas party -- which has been a potluck for eight years running -- is always a collection of odd and delectable things.

In fact, I usually plan what I'll bring months in advance. This year, it's probably going to be butterscotch ice cream, crab dip, and possibly Papo's chili. Mmm. Chili.

Okay. Time to find my brain PDA.

Also, I am fascinated by Irene Gallo's book cover weblog.

My tastebuds say the cherry pie beat out the chocolate, but only by a slim margin. It was the chocolate pie that got eaten the most by partygoers, though. Cherry, apparently, is intended for more distinguished tastebuds.

And as predicted, I'm feeling better.

Meanwhile....

I think I have just made the chocolate custard pie to end all chocolate custard pies. If the cherry pie (from the same cookbook) is half as good as its cacao brother, I am going to have to serve these puppies with a warning.

I am nearly to the end of season two of Lost. At one point, my surround sound kicked in with the distant voice of one of the characters talking during a lull point, and I damn near had a heart attack because it sounded like someone calling up to me from the basement.

The Lost writers use a huge number of what I consider classic horror techniques to make the story creepy and compelling. But then, I've always felt that a good fantasy has a hint of horror in it.

Cooking is one of my favorite pasttimes. Alas, I am now often too busy to indulge in it. Which is why it seems weird for me to even consider doing this, but I have to admit it's mighty tempting right now.

Someone else making my meals, at about the cost it takes to make my own? Sign me up. Would certainly buy me a lot of writing time.

My week has alternated between drunken joy and tech support's worst nightmare. How's yours?