THE MENTAL FEAST

We do not need your lunatics, we have our own. I came home to women who were overweight and underdressed. As well as drunk. Habitually.
My apartment mate was watching The Real House Wives of ... Someplace Gerdawful. She herself weighs half of what those ladies do, but then she's Cantonese and not an alcoholic. Other than some minor peculiarities she would not make good television. You'd have to know her.


Knowing her is a good thing. Knowing me, likely far less so.
I tend to have obsessions more intense than hers.
And I can't seem to drop subjects.
Plus I'm too full of myself.
Like Peter Ustinov.
Bad Poirot


A friend in New York has said "the heck with cholent, we're having beef bourguignon for supper on Saturday". Which is a very lovely idea.
It sparked my recollection.

BOEUF BOURGUIGNONNE
Posted on Wednesday, May 2, 2012
No, it isn't a recipe, but a description of procedure and eye-balled proportion. It always works, though.

Cholent, Beef Bouguignon, Dhansak (also part of the memory string), and several dishes that since becoming single again I never cook anymore.
I miss them, but there is nobody with whom to eat.

Instead of complicated stuff, I had fuzzy melon and pork soup, with garlic bread for dinner tonight. Home made, and easy to prepare.

Sort of Chinese meets Italian American.

It was good.




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