According to a well-placed source, I am a "nasty old scunge". Primarily because I have repeatedly ignored the Turkey-vulture Bill of Rights, and neglected my obligations to give him regular feetsie-rubbies and let him eat the occasional small creature. He is saddened by my blithe disregard of the proprieties. I'll offer him a chockie to distract him. Because I have no wish to stroke his feetsies, and small creatures, whether visitor or resident, are not to be gobbled up under any circumstances. As the head roomie, Ms. Bruin, agrees.
There is presently a despondent turkey vulture sitting in the other room.
He is sulky, because he has been severely spoken to again.
And I have failed to support him in this.
I am, he avers, defective.
Yeah, look little dude, there's no way I'm touching your nasty feetsies. And I am a nasty YOUNG scunge (whatever that is), if you please. I am not old!
I am being laughed at by several small critters.
Discretely behind furry paws.
Last night the weather outside was fit for neither man nor beast. And, with the bus line that runs past the building out of commision because two trees fell over in the wind, smashing up three parked cars, wiping out the bus shelter, and dragging down the overhead lines, as well as blocking the entire street and the sidewalk opposite, public transit necessarily had to be re-routed. I was not going to walk over several blocks in cold wet weather to find a possible alternate route to Chinatown, so I called the bookseller and told him sorry but next week.
Instead, I spent the evening contemplating the concept of claypot ginger chicken.
If this were Guangzhou, Hong Kong, or Kuala Lumpur, the bus line would not be down, and fresh claypot ginger chicken would be readily available mere minutes away. Which would be perfect in last night's weather, except that they would not have such weather. Low eightes, mid seventies, and low nineties, respectively. And only slightly rainy, all three.
Though there will be a downpour for an hour or so in KL.
Singapore: high eighties, scant rain.
The same recipe can be modified with the addition of sliced black mushroom, and, if you're a Dutch American scunge in San Francisco, some chopped bacon frazzled at the bottom of the clay pot before dumping in the partially cooked chicken chunks (stir once or twice, add sherry and soy sauce to sizzle after a good fire). That same D. A. scunge would probably have also added some chili paste and sherry (or rice wine) to the mixture earlier, and the judicious use of Indonesian style sweet soy sauce (ketjap manis) speaks to me.
Young Dutch American Scunge cooking; it's a concept.
I'm surprised no one has discovered it yet!
It was cold and wet all of February in Jakarta (around eighty degrees). They probably ate tonnes of ginger-rich food during that time. Warming, and comforting. Both qualities much needed during continuous inclement weather. Also, chilipaste.
Sambal goes with everything.
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