Five conversations simultaneously, three of them on Facebook with people who are in two cases already wide awake, one of whom is on her second glass of Glenfiddich in fifteen years and complaining that it has rained for nearly two days solid. About which I should note that where she presently is, precisely and exactly, the precipitation is half of what it is down the road near the coast, thought the high heat and humidity are a match.
She intends to heat up some frozen Vindaloo for dinner.
Vindaloo actually sounds perfect for breakfast.
But there is a time difference.
A nice vindaloo can be enjoyed vicariously.
Same goes for pork sorpotel.
Two of the conversations are with my apartment mate, channeling for small stuffed animals, and consequently employment opportunities (slavery) and education (spanking) are in the mix. The Head Sheep is very Trumpesque. And blatherskitish.
I'm on my first cup of cofee.
Less awake than anybody.
Without caffeine, electricity, and internet sparky-sparky, differences of time, space, and reality, would be too great to handle. Obviously, vindaloo has a strong role in this too.
I actually mentioned vindaloo probably over a dozen times this weekend before the time-difference and precipitation person brought it up. Not the typical English restaurant product, nor what menus in the United States call vindaloo, but the real thing.
I'm guessing chunks of pork marinated in vinegar with garlic, then braised, with peppercorns, green chilies, some onion, and a splash of the marinade added to the pan. Simmered till the chilies have softened up and become one with the sauce.
Rule to live by: green chilies should become one with the sauce.
That goes for any number of dishes.
It's a philosophy.
Koregaon Park versus the vicinity of San Francisco Chinatown.
There are no Goan restaurants to be found here.
We've got a few dhabas.
Mutton-gosht dē vindaloo nahin kar'sakta.
The head sheep is safe.
For now.
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A couple of clarifications - it was the 2nd 15-year old Glenfiddich this evening, not the 2nd Glenfiddich in 15 years. And the vindaloo and sorpotel were from a Goan restaurant in Koregaon Park called, for some reason, 1730. Note to self - research the name of this restaurant.
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