At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Monday, June 23, 2008

SMELLING THE HAIR OF A YOUNG LADY

No, this post is not about halacha. Nor shall I speculate on the contortions a yeshiva bocher on the bus would have to perform in order to get a whiff of a sweet young thing's fragrant head-hair....... Given the sheitels and tichels that would have to be "accidentally" knocked aside or disarrayed, who knows what absurd motions and pretexts would be required. Besides, as you can imagine, on a mehadrin bus our bocher would also need to experiment with cross-dressing in order to even get near the young lady, and that begs the question: 'Are his tzitzis showing?' Siz a shverre shailoh, as of course even desperate perverts must remain shomer mitzvos.

Or at least, we hope they remain so. Personally we do not know any desperate perverts, nor expect to ever meet any, so their shomeric status is purely academic.


Onwards to better things.

[There's a recipe at the end of this post, if you're impatient.]

Instead, this post will touch upon the intellectual (meaning that I've hardly ever had the experience) conceit of being on a San Francisco bus filled with brilliant teenage females after class at Lowell High School has let out. For those new to this blog I should explain that years ago Lowell High School was nicknamed 'The Finishing School For Nice Intellectual Jewish Girls', but because of the changing demographic in the city, it is now known as 'The Finishing School For Nice Intellectual Chinese Girls'. It has extremely high academic standards, and students struggle mightily to get admitted.

[As an aside, let me kvell - Savage Kitten is a Lowell girl, and has not one but TWO university degrees (graduated magna cum laude). In addition to several gold and silver medals for martial arts (which the stuffed animals tend to steal and wear - they think the things are bling, and I must admit that the vampyre hamster looks like a stylish gangsta rapper wearing them).]

Imagine yourself on the number one California heading home to Chinatown. The back of the vehicle is filled with four-foot-six inch tall female seventeen year olds, squealing and screeching. School is out, adults are at work (which is why the experience is hardly familiar to me), the afternoon is still young; these girls are full of piss and vinegar, feisty, spirited, high octane, and they must vent.
They are, because of their energy level, 'delicately' bedewed with sweat - their hair wafts a heady blend of aromas and perfumes. Is that Alfred Sung I smell? Joy by Jean Patou? A whiff of lime and tangerine? Jessamine from Himalayan foothills? Hmmmmmmm!

Inhale deeply. Hold. Let an imaginary tongue taste the roundness of the smells in your nasal cavity.
Now slide to the floor of the bus as your knees give way.


Yes, some of them are wearing Hello Kitty Perfume. It does not matter.


Please contrast the above with the disgusting perversion which is chocolate sauce. Some people cover their lovers (one hesitates to use the word lover - victim may be more appropriate) with such things as chocolate sauce. Or raspberry syrup. It boggles the mind. How can they even notice the fragrance of clean hair under those circumstances? Is the hair itself even clean under the chocolate sauce or raspberry syrup? And then adding whipped cream. That's insult to injury. All of these degenerate behaviours negate the exquisite whuft of fine clean hair, soft and raven hued. Sauce trolls, we must have none of these. We have no fetishes. Mmmmmmmmmh, perfume.


Heh heh heh.


Now, having thoroughly awakened your minds, I wish to mention two things:

1. One out of sixteen (one million) Dutch people are diabetic. I suspect I know why. I'm guessing chocolate sauce or raspberry syrup.

2. Several years ago, the nasty South Indian woman who worked at the Indian restaurant where I was the cashier-bookkeeper got into a screaming match with the Punjabi headwaiter. Not unusual. Except that this time she grabbed a bucket of rice pudding and dumped it over his head. In front of a full house - it was a busy evening. Over a hundred and fifty people stared, mesmerized, at what appeared to be a yeti made out of creamy white goo. The headwaiter clearly did not know what to do - "should I ice her? Should I throw her against the wall? Smack her? Which of these?".
He stood immobilized.

While he tried to figure out his next move, I noticed, over the general spice fragrance of the restaurant, the distinct aroma of the saffron in the rice pudding, mixed with the faint musky perfume of his hair oil..........

Had I been female, it could have turned me on no end.


I now rather wonder if any of the women customers wanted to lick him.


Chocolate sauce, or raspberry syrup, would've spoiled the moment.


----------------------------

NOTE: Went to an Indian restaurant with Savage Kitten yesterday evening. It was very good. We did NOT have any rice pudding.

CHAWAL KI KHEER

[Indian Rice pudding]

One cup milk.
One cup heavy cream.
One cup cooked rice.
Half a cup cane sugar.
Four or five green cardamom, seeds only.
A generous pinch of saffron.
Sliced almonds and golden raisins as you see fit.

Gently heat rice and milk to a barely boiling state. Add sugar, turn low and simmer, stirring, till much thickened. Now add the cream, cardamom seeds, the saffron, and the almonds and raisins. Simmer stirring till again thickened. Cool.

Serve garnished with a sprinkling of crushed pistachio.

A few fresh rose petals on top are also a nice edible touch of colour.


The term 'kheer' refers to the thickened sweetened milk preparation. One can also have sevian (fried thin vermicelli) in kheer, or Sabudana (tapioca) ki kheer. But most often it will be long-grain rice. It is a dish with many affectionate and ritualistic connotations.
None of which involve soggy Punjabis.


No chocolate or raspberries were harmed in the making of this post.

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15 Comments:

  • At 9:14 PM, Blogger Spiros said…

    A couple of points:
    1.) When paraphrasing PRIZZI'S HONOR, it is important to remember to include the word "One", i.e., "Do? Do what? Do I marry her, do I ice her...which ONE of these things?".
    2.) You and S.K. appear to be on and Indian cuisine kid lately; is it seasonal?
    3.) I expected to hear about a man who goes to see his guru because he is wishing to be called "Swami".

     
  • At 9:44 PM, Blogger e-kvetcher said…

    "You know, maybe it's really not that bad that the Netherlands will be destroyed," Petra Faile said. "I don't like it here anymore. Take immigration, for example. They keep letting people in. And then we have to build more houses, which makes the Netherlands even heavier. The country will sink even lower, which will make the flooding worse."

    link

     
  • At 9:53 AM, Blogger The back of the hill said…

    The country will sink even lower, which will make the flooding worse

    [Sound of hysterical laughter.]

    Petra Dingbat seems to believe that buildings form a tight sealing layer across the country, like a lid, that presses the country down. Truly a unique perspective.

    I've always believed that the main reason why so many Dutch are sub-clinically neurotic (i.e. stark-raving bonkers) is because of the density of the population - that seems to form a tight sealing layer across the country, keeping in the febrile heat of quivering minds and twisting the perspectives of the weak-in-the-head.

    All of which makes the sane people rather dry.

     
  • At 9:54 AM, Blogger The back of the hill said…

    Or, in short: many Dutch are loonies, and cause unrest.

     
  • At 10:29 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Rahab, Rahab.

    Rahab, Rahab, Rahab....., Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab, Rahab!

    Rahabarahabarahabaharabab!

    Sh*t, it isn't working, I'm still limp! Need more hair.

     
  • At 11:01 AM, Blogger The back of the hill said…

    Anonymo, I'm quite baffled as to why you must repeat the name Rahab. Something having to do with this week's sidra, no doubt. Please elucidate. A dank foroys.

    -----------------------------

    Regarding the chawal ki kheer recipe, tayere lesers, please note that if you are cooking for castes other than your own, you should, if you are concerned with ritual matters, put a little ghee in the pot before anything else. Ghee is considered the great purifier, and if the first thing that the food touches is ghee it will be suitable for other castes. This of course necessitates cooking the rice in milk, after adding it to the pot - one reason why Brahmin rice pudding is thicker tasting (and, perhaps, less appealing).

    Those of us unconcerned with Brahmocharic details need not worry about the ghee, and probably enjoy our food more.

     
  • At 11:35 AM, Blogger e-kvetcher said…

    Rahab was supposed to be so beautiful that even saying her name would lead to a "spilling of seed"
    BT Megillah 15a

     
  • At 11:51 AM, Blogger Spiros said…

    I suspect that "those of us unconcerned with Brahmocharic details" enjoy just about everything more.

     
  • At 11:56 AM, Blogger The back of the hill said…

    E-kvetcher,

    Thanks. I did not know that about Rahab till now.
    But a quick search on the internet, combining her name with the terms megillah 15, yielded: "just saying her name can make men climax (Megillah 15b)", "Rachav was one of the 4 most beautiful women in the world (Megillah 15a)", "...could cause the speaker to be aroused sexually (tractate Megillah 15a)", "...(prostitute) the gemara in Megillah also details her proficiency at this latter profession..."

    Sounds like quite a character. Who says Talmud is dry and boring?

     
  • At 12:18 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    We have no fetishes.

    Hoohah!!!!

    There are several.

    You have a gift for unhderstatement.

    Or you are in deep denial.

    Possibly both.

    I say ni. And again, ni.

     
  • At 1:51 PM, Blogger Alexander said…

    I like both hair, and rice pudding. I must say, however, that my thoughts on hair -and- rice pudding had not yet been entirely formed, until now.

    A.

     
  • At 8:39 PM, Blogger e-kvetcher said…

    Hmm, blogger ate my comment? Or blimey, what did I give the wife?

    Virgins!

     
  • At 11:56 PM, Blogger Spiros said…

    Sandwiches???

     
  • At 11:46 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Kheer is blessed if left out during full moon nights. Why this is so I do not know.


    ---Grant Patel

     
  • At 1:28 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    You realize, do yo not, that putting a recipe for rice pudding (so much sugar!) smack bang in a post that also mentions that so many Dutch people are diabetic, certainly falls in the category of "adding insult to injury"?

    Or 'adding more injury to injury' - take your pick.


    Lev

     

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