Which became clear this morning.
As it turns out, a lovely hot meal that includes spinach, noodles, and cheese, is not improved by the addition of more cheese. Much more cheese.
As well as hot sauce.
And miscellaneous meats, including spicy linguiça.
And crunchy bits.
Plus tomatoes, chilies, and capers.
Salt, pepper, curry paste, and a touch of horse radish.
It tasted wonderful, though. I ate all of it.
Appropriate term: "single man kibble".
Alternatively: "big bowl of muck".
No, there was no love involved.
The term love refers in this case to the mature couple I observed yesterday evening while having a quiet smoke at the Occidental, and their bad decision.
It did not involve food.
For her, the decision was probably worse than for him.
Liquor had far more to do with it, for both of them, than appetite or "hunger".
However, their flamboyant behaviour with each other last night was quite as misguided as what I did with the contents of the pantry when I got home, and just as likely both of them woke up with profound regrets, too.
In retrospect, my kitchen activities were also obscene.
My internal organs are still chastising me.
But it was very delicious!
Heck, after six bowls of tobacco, anything strong flavoured tastes fine.
Burnt tire dipped in cod liver oil and cayenne? Dee-lish!
Something similar probably informed their spur of the moment courtship at the Occidental – they were both on their third or fourth cigar when they left, and one suspects that their sense of smell and their common sense had been effectively neutralized by Caribbean leaf at that point.
He ponged of cheap aftershave, she reeked of floral perfume, both stank of stogies.
All three are the common characteristics of cigar afficionadoes.
Quite unlike civilized pipe-smokers.
We’re calmer, too.
All I really want is a peaceful place where I can smoke and have a cup of tea in the evenings.
No one makes bad decisions following a pipe and a cup of tea.
It’s just not possible.
I'm going straight home after work today. Planning on having a cup of tea or two while smoking in the kitchen. One bowl of a matured Virginia, one of a sooty English blend.
It will be an evening marked by good sense and good taste.
Without cigar smokers.
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