It's Valentine's Day today. Which means that if you are like me, you are in a gently sneering mood, quite un-Christian, and resolved to let chili peppers, caffeine, and cigars stand in for a woman or man of your dreams.
I've made a start on two of those already.
Nothing says Valentine's Day like a cigar.
I'm sure that your significant other will agree. And you'll have to admit that it would be a bold statement, especially in a place like San Francisco where tobacco triggers so many little wheat germ heads.
Do it. Go on.
See, that's one of the reasons I like Chinatown. The local people aren't easily offended, and everybody has lovable relatives who smoke. And there are no glandered Protestants to whine about hot sauce being a sign of the devil, non-nutritional, an effete affectation, and indicative of Catholicism and a seedy Latin temperament. Or to start weeping when I light up a pipe, because it just smells so strong and hurts their pure little feelings.
Some Chinese do celebrate Valentine's Day.
Hip, modern, young people, mostly.
The plastic urbanites.
Hallmarkians.
NOSHING ON DAINTIES
One truly great thing about Valentine's Day is that I don't need to worry about it being a thing in any of my favourite restaurants in Chinatown, because I favour cheap eaties for us common folk: hearty rice plates, chachanteng specials, dumplings, noodle soup, and pork chops. Late yesterday afternoon I had eggplant and fish over rice, with hot sauce.
Last Friday it was steamed dumplings and chili oil. A charsiu pastry on Wednesday, pork chops on Tuesday. Both of those places also have hot sauce. The week before that at some point mui choi kau yiuk (and hot sauce), plus baked Portuguese chicken rice (and hot sauce).
To me this is all glorious, and very romantic.
梅菜扣肉，焗葡國雞飯 。
And 热奶茶！
I dream of taking someone to these places.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
YOUR PRECIOUS TIME
Somebody on the Facebook page for pipe smokers today whined that there were too many selfies, pictures of pipes, and mentions of recent tobacco purchases. What he wanted was information! Nothing but good solid knowledge and data, soberly presented, and nothing else at all.
He wished to have the admins see to that.
Dude .....
Just scroll right on past it. There is both everything and nothing to see here. The drama is in your own head. There is very much on the internet that I do not wish to read, but I neither expect nor demand that it not be posted.
The internet is a grand garbage dump, and attentive reading means that sometimes you must NOT read. Or watch.
For instance, I always deliberately ignore videos of Trump, rabbi Yosef Mizrachi, Rachael Ray, and Vani Hari. There's a word for shite like that.
I do watch kitten videos. But I don't expect everyone to do so.
He mentioned "the last six tobaccos purchased".
As a subject of particular irritation.
Why did people do that?!?
So I posted a little something there.
"Please list the last six pipe tobaccos you bought. I'll start: Pease's Stonehenge Flake, Montgomery, Laurel Heights; Dunhill's Dark Flake, Ready Rubbed. Gawith's Golden Glow."
It caught on.
Tim: C&D Bayou Morning Flake, Five Brothers, C&D Crooner (2oz out of curiosity,) C&D Bayou Morning (one pound in bulk,) Sutliff Balkan II (my mainstay at the local head shop which serves as the closest thing to an actual tobacconist,) Samuel Gawith Kendal Cream (I have discovered that I like Lakelands.)
Silvestre: Pease SixPence,and JackKnife Plug, Dunhill 3 Year Mature Virginia, Gawith and Hogarth Black Irish X, Daughters and Ryan AP and AB.
Markus: I'll try a list in reverse chronological order: Mac Baren Mixture Flake, some local blend by Thomas Holzkunst Darasz, C&D Constellation, C&D Star of the east gold, Capstan blue, DTM's The Mellow Mallard.
Adam: Wessex Brown Virginia, Dunhill Dark Flake, McClelland St. James Woods, Butera Royal Vintage Mature Ribbon, McClelland 2025, and Fribourg and Treyer Cut Virginia Plug. Haha, a bit of a trend there I guess.
Gunnar: Mac Baren Golden Extra, C&D Crooner, Mac Baren Vintage Syrian, McConnel Honey Dew, Paul Olsen Pure Burley, Samuel Gawith Black Forest.
Jared: Father Dempsey, Old Dog, Key Largo, Dominican Glory, Stokkebye Black Coffee and HH Dark Fired I think.
Rob: Pure Semois (green), C&D Tuggle Hall, C&D Bow Legged Bear, GLP Gaslight, C&D Captain Earlie's 10 Russians.
Chris: Reverse order (trying think☺): And So To Bed, Vintage Syrian, Gawith's Balkan Flake, Quiet Nights, Triple Play.
Maybe. I don't buy that often so it's over nearly six months I'd say.
Tony: Scottish Cake, Scottish Flake, 40th Anniversary, St. James Woods, Virginia Woods and Dunbar.
Steve: Quiet Nights, Jack Knife Ready Rubbed, HH Bold Kentucky, Pirate Kake, Night Train, and Billy Budd.
Al: Old Joe Krantz, Black Twist Sliced, Brown Twist Sliced, Irish Flake, Peretti Dundee, Billy Budd.
Andrew: Local B&m blend Riegels Baker Street, another Rielgels Danish Heather, Drew estate Gatsby Luxury Flake, Peter Stokkebye 3 Cherry Blend, Frog Morton. Oh and Riegels Thee blend!
That's twelve respondents, six tobaccos each. I am still waiting for Mary, Kaz, Adrian, Jerome, Mason, and others, to chip in, which I hope they will. Seeing what all these people are smoking is fascinating.
Gage and Oullette will be particularly interesting.
By the way: a selfie below.
Lagniappe: Here's a tobacco review of by Justin at 'The Tobacco Diaries':
Samuel Gawith Skiff Mixture
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
He wished to have the admins see to that.
Dude .....
Just scroll right on past it. There is both everything and nothing to see here. The drama is in your own head. There is very much on the internet that I do not wish to read, but I neither expect nor demand that it not be posted.
The internet is a grand garbage dump, and attentive reading means that sometimes you must NOT read. Or watch.
For instance, I always deliberately ignore videos of Trump, rabbi Yosef Mizrachi, Rachael Ray, and Vani Hari. There's a word for shite like that.
I do watch kitten videos. But I don't expect everyone to do so.
He mentioned "the last six tobaccos purchased".
As a subject of particular irritation.
Why did people do that?!?
So I posted a little something there.
"Please list the last six pipe tobaccos you bought. I'll start: Pease's Stonehenge Flake, Montgomery, Laurel Heights; Dunhill's Dark Flake, Ready Rubbed. Gawith's Golden Glow."
It caught on.
Tim: C&D Bayou Morning Flake, Five Brothers, C&D Crooner (2oz out of curiosity,) C&D Bayou Morning (one pound in bulk,) Sutliff Balkan II (my mainstay at the local head shop which serves as the closest thing to an actual tobacconist,) Samuel Gawith Kendal Cream (I have discovered that I like Lakelands.)
Silvestre: Pease SixPence,and JackKnife Plug, Dunhill 3 Year Mature Virginia, Gawith and Hogarth Black Irish X, Daughters and Ryan AP and AB.
Markus: I'll try a list in reverse chronological order: Mac Baren Mixture Flake, some local blend by Thomas Holzkunst Darasz, C&D Constellation, C&D Star of the east gold, Capstan blue, DTM's The Mellow Mallard.
Adam: Wessex Brown Virginia, Dunhill Dark Flake, McClelland St. James Woods, Butera Royal Vintage Mature Ribbon, McClelland 2025, and Fribourg and Treyer Cut Virginia Plug. Haha, a bit of a trend there I guess.
Gunnar: Mac Baren Golden Extra, C&D Crooner, Mac Baren Vintage Syrian, McConnel Honey Dew, Paul Olsen Pure Burley, Samuel Gawith Black Forest.
Jared: Father Dempsey, Old Dog, Key Largo, Dominican Glory, Stokkebye Black Coffee and HH Dark Fired I think.
Rob: Pure Semois (green), C&D Tuggle Hall, C&D Bow Legged Bear, GLP Gaslight, C&D Captain Earlie's 10 Russians.
Chris: Reverse order (trying think☺): And So To Bed, Vintage Syrian, Gawith's Balkan Flake, Quiet Nights, Triple Play.
Maybe. I don't buy that often so it's over nearly six months I'd say.
Tony: Scottish Cake, Scottish Flake, 40th Anniversary, St. James Woods, Virginia Woods and Dunbar.
Steve: Quiet Nights, Jack Knife Ready Rubbed, HH Bold Kentucky, Pirate Kake, Night Train, and Billy Budd.
Al: Old Joe Krantz, Black Twist Sliced, Brown Twist Sliced, Irish Flake, Peretti Dundee, Billy Budd.
Andrew: Local B&m blend Riegels Baker Street, another Rielgels Danish Heather, Drew estate Gatsby Luxury Flake, Peter Stokkebye 3 Cherry Blend, Frog Morton. Oh and Riegels Thee blend!
That's twelve respondents, six tobaccos each. I am still waiting for Mary, Kaz, Adrian, Jerome, Mason, and others, to chip in, which I hope they will. Seeing what all these people are smoking is fascinating.
Gage and Oullette will be particularly interesting.
By the way: a selfie below.
Lagniappe: Here's a tobacco review of by Justin at 'The Tobacco Diaries':
Samuel Gawith Skiff Mixture
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
A PIPE SMOKER WITH CIGARS: THE FOUR PART PROJECT
This post will be updated as things progress. At nine thirty A. M. on Tuesday morning, February thirteenth, I'm only twenty five percent through the process. So the rest of it will come over the next day or two.
And I've got a cup of strong coffee.
Which is a good start.
"Ah, that first cigar of the day. Smells like low tide and discarded mattresses in the salt marsh. Good thing I've opened the windows; she'll never notice."
A few days ago a sales rep came bounding in, all bright-eyed and cleanly pressed. He wished to introduce three new products, and they were glorious! Three!
Some sales reps are charming when they've had caffeine.
I certainly warmed to him.
The net result was that I ended up with a total of four cigars to try. One of which I had already smoked twice, but I did not tell him that. They're good products, made in Nicaragua. Many of the finest stogies come from there nowadays, and they blow the mediocre shite from Cuba right out of the water. Fortunately Europeans, Arabs, and Chinese don't know it.
They're still smoking that crap from Havana.
And paying for the "privilege".
Here's some news, guys. The United States lights up over twenty percent of Cuban production. Yet of the top twenty five cigars for 2017, only four were actually Cubanos. Just four. Only four. Nebbech.
Probably a mistake. I've smoked 'em.
They are really not very good.
Nicaraguans are better.
And Hondurans.
CORNELIUS & ANTHONY
The brand was reborn two years ago, and the backstory is a little too fey and pretentious for my taste, but the cigar industry has always been more than a little goofy in it's marketing anyway -- "nothing says Valentine's day like a cigar" -- and many of the younger set who smoke cigars are tattooed monsters and junior lawyers, so you have to make allowances for that.
Thank heavens they broke away from Jägermeister and craft beer.
Now if we could only get them to vote rationally.
In any case, damned fine cigars.
FIRST REVIEW: VENGANZA ROBUSTO
8:40 AM to past 10:15 AM. Feb. 13, 2018.
Presently down to the last inch. It burned a little irregular ten minutes in, and I had to retouch it with the flame twice. But it has a very uniform and even burning zone right now, and I'm not putting it down. It's satisfying and earthy. As well as presenting some spicy woodsy notes. Quite enjoyable. The day looks very promising at this point.
Wrapper: Ecuadorean Habano of a warm silky umber hue.
Binder and filler: Nicaraguan.
UP NEXT (AS I GET TO THEM):SEÑOR ESUGARS, MERIDIAN, AND THE DADDY MAC.
Expect changes to this post.
All of them are robustos, of a very appetizing appearance.
I think I may go downtown and trigger some office workers by smoking in front of their building. But first I must bathe and do laundry. My clothes smell all fusty after a week among the cigar aficionados.
I might have curry for breakfast.
RE: "nothing says Valentine's day like a cigar"
Actually, what a cigar very probably says is that you're a crusty old dingus anywhere between twenty and one hundred years of age, without romance in your life, and probably Latin or Dutch. And that Tuesday and Wednesday are your weekend, your tolerant apartment mate has a poor sense of smell and wishes some woman would civilize your stinky ass ("it's been years, fercrapsakes!"), and you eat by yourself most of the time.
Yeah, Kipling said something about that.
A very Victorian sentiment.
Dry old bean.
Update no. 1
SECOND REVIEW: DADDY MAC ROBUSTO
11:30 AM to 12:59 PM. Feb. 13, 2018.
Started this one just before eleven thirty. It is rich and satisfying, but not blow-your-head-off full. More of a solid medium. A nice morning smoke. The wrapper appears to be a corojo, possibly even somewhat rosado. Not as uniform in appearance as the Venganza, variegated and a little shiny, but this cigar is a much more well-behaved smoke. The ash tends toward darker on the outside, fine and white within. It is utterly delicious.
Hands down a top notch cigar. Creamy, faint chocolate, a whisp of fruit.
Did not need any touch-up with the flame at all.
Great with another cup of coffee.
Wrapper: Brazilian.
Binder: Ecuadorian.
Filler: Nicaraguan.
I still need to head out and do laundry.
But this cigar isn't finished yet.
May have to pong a bit.
Update No. 2
THIRD REVIEW: SEÑOR ESUGARS ROBUSTO
9:54 PM to 11:12 PM. Feb. 13, 2018.
On Tuesday nights I often head over to Chinatown to meet the bookseller for drinks and madness at a dive we've been going to for years. It's a tradition. So I left the house an hour and a half earlier, intent on smoking the cigar before his bus landed at Grant Avenue at eleven thirty. I spent over an hour watching the rats in Spofford Alley. The city announced a scheme to improve and beautify the place over a year and a half ago, with great fanfare, and it was supposed to be done this past Autumn. With typical efficiency it isn't even approaching the finished stage. But, as a direct consequence of their labours, it now supports a vast population of rats.
Who traverse the various levels of unfinished pavement and ditch like familiar and beloved village streets, sometimes speeding down the entire length of the alley from point A to point B, singlemindedly heading for the garbage dump where it intersects at Clay Street. They are charming, lively, and bold. At least three out of more than two dozen are a whitish-tan.
They are elegant and lovely creatures.
This blogger loves animals.
The cigar is quite nice. Dark and spicy. Not quite as good as the previous one (Daddy Mac), but nevertheless the perfect cigar for watching wildlife. Medium body, earthy and peppery. It has a sweetness.
It is nevertheless packed with flavour.
Stephen Bailey, the owner of Cornelius & Anthony, named it after his dog.
Wrapper: Mexican, dark (San Andres).
Binder: American (what ?).
Filler: Nicaraguan.
This review was written after three in the morning.
It was a very good evening, by the way.
Update No. 3
FOURTH REVIEW: MERIDIAN ROBUSTO
10:13 AM to 11:48 AM. Feb. 14, 2018.
Having been a pipe smoker since my teenage years, I don't often go through so many cigars. It's enjoyable, but weird and intoxicating.
The apartment building is quiet, but from the nearby intersection I hear the noise of earth moving equipment. Rarely any other sounds.
The Meridian Robusto, by Cornelius and Anthony is an enjoyable mildly resinous product, that while it does not make any brash statements does hold your attention and gild the time you spend with it. The last two inches are contemplative. A classic and very lovely wrapper leaf, with a slight sheen. The cigar is semi firm, soundly constructed, no touch-up required. Woodsy notes with spice. Easy draw, regular burn, and a hint of oak.
I enjoyed our time together, and wish there were more.
For the first smoke of the day this is truly top notch.
Wrapper: Ecuadorian.
Binder: Nicaraguan.
Filler: Nicaraguan & Dominican.
The only problem was that during the final inch the flaky white ash kept depositing on my keyboard as I typed. I need to vacuum.
Best weekend in a long time.
It was fun.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
And I've got a cup of strong coffee.
Which is a good start.
"Ah, that first cigar of the day. Smells like low tide and discarded mattresses in the salt marsh. Good thing I've opened the windows; she'll never notice."
A few days ago a sales rep came bounding in, all bright-eyed and cleanly pressed. He wished to introduce three new products, and they were glorious! Three!
Some sales reps are charming when they've had caffeine.
I certainly warmed to him.
The net result was that I ended up with a total of four cigars to try. One of which I had already smoked twice, but I did not tell him that. They're good products, made in Nicaragua. Many of the finest stogies come from there nowadays, and they blow the mediocre shite from Cuba right out of the water. Fortunately Europeans, Arabs, and Chinese don't know it.
They're still smoking that crap from Havana.
And paying for the "privilege".
Here's some news, guys. The United States lights up over twenty percent of Cuban production. Yet of the top twenty five cigars for 2017, only four were actually Cubanos. Just four. Only four. Nebbech.
Probably a mistake. I've smoked 'em.
They are really not very good.
Nicaraguans are better.
And Hondurans.
CORNELIUS & ANTHONY
The brand was reborn two years ago, and the backstory is a little too fey and pretentious for my taste, but the cigar industry has always been more than a little goofy in it's marketing anyway -- "nothing says Valentine's day like a cigar" -- and many of the younger set who smoke cigars are tattooed monsters and junior lawyers, so you have to make allowances for that.
Thank heavens they broke away from Jägermeister and craft beer.
Now if we could only get them to vote rationally.
In any case, damned fine cigars.
FIRST REVIEW: VENGANZA ROBUSTO
8:40 AM to past 10:15 AM. Feb. 13, 2018.
Presently down to the last inch. It burned a little irregular ten minutes in, and I had to retouch it with the flame twice. But it has a very uniform and even burning zone right now, and I'm not putting it down. It's satisfying and earthy. As well as presenting some spicy woodsy notes. Quite enjoyable. The day looks very promising at this point.
Wrapper: Ecuadorean Habano of a warm silky umber hue.
Binder and filler: Nicaraguan.
UP NEXT (AS I GET TO THEM):
Expect changes to this post.
All of them are robustos, of a very appetizing appearance.
I think I may go downtown and trigger some office workers by smoking in front of their building. But first I must bathe and do laundry. My clothes smell all fusty after a week among the cigar aficionados.
I might have curry for breakfast.
RE: "nothing says Valentine's day like a cigar"
Actually, what a cigar very probably says is that you're a crusty old dingus anywhere between twenty and one hundred years of age, without romance in your life, and probably Latin or Dutch. And that Tuesday and Wednesday are your weekend, your tolerant apartment mate has a poor sense of smell and wishes some woman would civilize your stinky ass ("it's been years, fercrapsakes!"), and you eat by yourself most of the time.
Yeah, Kipling said something about that.
A very Victorian sentiment.
Dry old bean.
Update no. 1
SECOND REVIEW: DADDY MAC ROBUSTO
11:30 AM to 12:59 PM. Feb. 13, 2018.
Started this one just before eleven thirty. It is rich and satisfying, but not blow-your-head-off full. More of a solid medium. A nice morning smoke. The wrapper appears to be a corojo, possibly even somewhat rosado. Not as uniform in appearance as the Venganza, variegated and a little shiny, but this cigar is a much more well-behaved smoke. The ash tends toward darker on the outside, fine and white within. It is utterly delicious.
Hands down a top notch cigar. Creamy, faint chocolate, a whisp of fruit.
Did not need any touch-up with the flame at all.
Great with another cup of coffee.
Wrapper: Brazilian.
Binder: Ecuadorian.
Filler: Nicaraguan.
I still need to head out and do laundry.
But this cigar isn't finished yet.
May have to pong a bit.
Update No. 2
THIRD REVIEW: SEÑOR ESUGARS ROBUSTO
9:54 PM to 11:12 PM. Feb. 13, 2018.
On Tuesday nights I often head over to Chinatown to meet the bookseller for drinks and madness at a dive we've been going to for years. It's a tradition. So I left the house an hour and a half earlier, intent on smoking the cigar before his bus landed at Grant Avenue at eleven thirty. I spent over an hour watching the rats in Spofford Alley. The city announced a scheme to improve and beautify the place over a year and a half ago, with great fanfare, and it was supposed to be done this past Autumn. With typical efficiency it isn't even approaching the finished stage. But, as a direct consequence of their labours, it now supports a vast population of rats.
Who traverse the various levels of unfinished pavement and ditch like familiar and beloved village streets, sometimes speeding down the entire length of the alley from point A to point B, singlemindedly heading for the garbage dump where it intersects at Clay Street. They are charming, lively, and bold. At least three out of more than two dozen are a whitish-tan.
They are elegant and lovely creatures.
This blogger loves animals.
The cigar is quite nice. Dark and spicy. Not quite as good as the previous one (Daddy Mac), but nevertheless the perfect cigar for watching wildlife. Medium body, earthy and peppery. It has a sweetness.
It is nevertheless packed with flavour.
Stephen Bailey, the owner of Cornelius & Anthony, named it after his dog.
Wrapper: Mexican, dark (San Andres).
Binder: American (what ?).
Filler: Nicaraguan.
This review was written after three in the morning.
It was a very good evening, by the way.
Update No. 3
FOURTH REVIEW: MERIDIAN ROBUSTO
10:13 AM to 11:48 AM. Feb. 14, 2018.
Having been a pipe smoker since my teenage years, I don't often go through so many cigars. It's enjoyable, but weird and intoxicating.
The apartment building is quiet, but from the nearby intersection I hear the noise of earth moving equipment. Rarely any other sounds.
The Meridian Robusto, by Cornelius and Anthony is an enjoyable mildly resinous product, that while it does not make any brash statements does hold your attention and gild the time you spend with it. The last two inches are contemplative. A classic and very lovely wrapper leaf, with a slight sheen. The cigar is semi firm, soundly constructed, no touch-up required. Woodsy notes with spice. Easy draw, regular burn, and a hint of oak.
I enjoyed our time together, and wish there were more.
For the first smoke of the day this is truly top notch.
Wrapper: Ecuadorian.
Binder: Nicaraguan.
Filler: Nicaraguan & Dominican.
The only problem was that during the final inch the flaky white ash kept depositing on my keyboard as I typed. I need to vacuum.
Best weekend in a long time.
It was fun.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, February 12, 2018
I CAN DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT!
A passerby recently told me that my pipe smoke was objectionable.
Seeing as I was standing outside the building where I live, at ten thirty in the evening, on a nearly empty sidewalk on a deserted street, my response was probably not conducive to his mental health. And it was not meant to be a positive experience for him in any case.
If, well after dark, I am standing in front of an apartment building, please assume that I've had a long day, I am out here as a politeness to at least one person inside, I do not care for your opinion, and I would far rather be inside with the wife, kids, and precisely two and a half gold fish that make the ideal family, watching Mash or the Bionic Woman on the telly.
Do not bother me. This tobacco is more important.
And I have pissed-off tunnel vision.
Still, I shouldn't have fat-shamed him for the shape and size of his head. That was ungentlemanly. Instead, I could have sincerely offered to correct that for him pronto. Surgery, not diet, might have cured him.
A blubberectomy right about where his ears were.
I am truly sorry he's such a fathead.
But it can be helped.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Seeing as I was standing outside the building where I live, at ten thirty in the evening, on a nearly empty sidewalk on a deserted street, my response was probably not conducive to his mental health. And it was not meant to be a positive experience for him in any case.
If, well after dark, I am standing in front of an apartment building, please assume that I've had a long day, I am out here as a politeness to at least one person inside, I do not care for your opinion, and I would far rather be inside with the wife, kids, and precisely two and a half gold fish that make the ideal family, watching Mash or the Bionic Woman on the telly.
Do not bother me. This tobacco is more important.
And I have pissed-off tunnel vision.
Still, I shouldn't have fat-shamed him for the shape and size of his head. That was ungentlemanly. Instead, I could have sincerely offered to correct that for him pronto. Surgery, not diet, might have cured him.
A blubberectomy right about where his ears were.
I am truly sorry he's such a fathead.
But it can be helped.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, February 11, 2018
WHERE THE BAD FOR YOU FOOD IS ORGANIC
As Sunday outfits go, it made a statement. Raincoat. Thigh-highs. Speedo. Net tank top and a dark-side of the moon tee-shirt. No idea what the statement was, but a good guess would be "hi, I'm batshit, ya wanna partay?"
Still not as quite as bold as the gentleman who comes in regularly, but this time called instead to blame the government for tracking him through his cell-phone. Who, because of our patience and tolerant "uh-huh"ing, now thinks that we are in cahoots with the dark state.
That was a conversation I wish to forget.
One the way back from Marin several passengers on the bus demonstrated what an entitled part of the universe the county to the north of SF is.
I am really not a nice person; I want to slap them.
There's a sign on our garbage bins that says "please, no wet garbage".
Many people in Marin ARE wet garbage.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Still not as quite as bold as the gentleman who comes in regularly, but this time called instead to blame the government for tracking him through his cell-phone. Who, because of our patience and tolerant "uh-huh"ing, now thinks that we are in cahoots with the dark state.
That was a conversation I wish to forget.
One the way back from Marin several passengers on the bus demonstrated what an entitled part of the universe the county to the north of SF is.
I am really not a nice person; I want to slap them.
There's a sign on our garbage bins that says "please, no wet garbage".
Many people in Marin ARE wet garbage.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
FLAKES OF ASH ON MY KEYBOARD
Occasionally I joke about certain cigars that one really needs a white linen suit, Panama hat, and a hacienda with a deep veranda, to fully enjoy them. These are usually the afternoon-long smokes. Please imagine sugar fields, palm trees, and bare tanned backs sweating as they labour. The impeccably dressed colonial imperialist, exploiter of the third world, relaxing in a cane chair and enjoying the fruits of his tyranny.
With an iced beverage.
[Cue the salsa music.]
Some cigars, however, call a different ambiance to mind.
GLORIA CUBANA WAVELL MADURO
[Hecho por El Credito, República Dominicana]
A very charming robusto, consisting of a dark Connecticut broadleaf over a Nicaraguan binder and a lovely sensible blend of Nicaraguan and Dominican leaf. Complex, with a broad spectrum of flavour, mild spice.
It has oomph, but is not so bold as to floor you before breakfast.
Exceptional with the first, second, and third cup of coffee.
Tempered incense and a mild florality.
The mental scene playing in my mind is of a cavernous warehouse space, cool and dark, with light coming from the office area. Nearly empty, almost no one around; the end of the season, all the bales have been shipped, every one has been paid, all that needs to be done is filing bills of lading and counting the last facturas. There is music from far away.
I highly recommend this satisfying cigar.
A box of these would make a lovely birthday present to me. My birthday is coming up in October, nine months hence. But there is no reason to wait, feel free to jump the gun.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
With an iced beverage.
[Cue the salsa music.]
Some cigars, however, call a different ambiance to mind.
GLORIA CUBANA WAVELL MADURO
[Hecho por El Credito, República Dominicana]
A very charming robusto, consisting of a dark Connecticut broadleaf over a Nicaraguan binder and a lovely sensible blend of Nicaraguan and Dominican leaf. Complex, with a broad spectrum of flavour, mild spice.
It has oomph, but is not so bold as to floor you before breakfast.
Exceptional with the first, second, and third cup of coffee.
Tempered incense and a mild florality.
The mental scene playing in my mind is of a cavernous warehouse space, cool and dark, with light coming from the office area. Nearly empty, almost no one around; the end of the season, all the bales have been shipped, every one has been paid, all that needs to be done is filing bills of lading and counting the last facturas. There is music from far away.
I highly recommend this satisfying cigar.
A box of these would make a lovely birthday present to me. My birthday is coming up in October, nine months hence. But there is no reason to wait, feel free to jump the gun.
==========================================================================
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Saturday, February 10, 2018
BLACK VEGETABLE, DRIED OYSTERS, GOOD LUCK, AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Nearly a fortnight ago a friend in Singapore remarked that there was New Year's music everywhere. Because Chinese New Year is coming up. Well, in Singapore they started early. Here in San Francisco I didn't hear any till a few days ago. Okay then. Tinkly children's voices chanting 'gong-si gong-si gong-si ni' and similar cheerful stuff.
Stockton Street has a number of stalls selling new clothing, flowers, New Year's cake, and various ingredients you will need for Dried Oysters And Black Moss (好事發財 'ho si fat choi') or Vegetarian Feast / Buddha's Delight (羅漢齋 'lo hon choi') and similar good luck dishes.
Of course, all I really care about is lei si.
I'm unmarried, a bachelor.
Single.
Please ignore the fact that I am older than you, with grey in my beard. As an unmarried person, I deserve tonnes of little red envelopes!
I'm also so Caucasian that I glow in the dark.
So a lot of lei si is unlikely.
Still, I wish you and yours a prosperous and happy new year, with good health and sweet things. Here are two festive recipes, the materials for which are available all along Stockton Street.
好事發財 (prosperous affairs and strike it rich)
海參燜豬手 (sea cucumber and pork knuckle)
The Spring Festival (春節 'cheun jit') starts on Friday February 16 this year.
The parade will take place a week later, Saturday February 24.
Just like every year I shall not watch it.
I am not fond of crowds.
新年快樂 'San nin faai lok'.
萬事如意 'Maan si yü yi'.
身體健康 'San tai gin hong'.
五福臨門 'Ng fuk lin mun'.
舉家歡樂 'Geui gaa fun lok'.
==========================================================================
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LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Stockton Street has a number of stalls selling new clothing, flowers, New Year's cake, and various ingredients you will need for Dried Oysters And Black Moss (好事發財 'ho si fat choi') or Vegetarian Feast / Buddha's Delight (羅漢齋 'lo hon choi') and similar good luck dishes.
Of course, all I really care about is lei si.
I'm unmarried, a bachelor.
Single.
Please ignore the fact that I am older than you, with grey in my beard. As an unmarried person, I deserve tonnes of little red envelopes!
I'm also so Caucasian that I glow in the dark.
So a lot of lei si is unlikely.
Still, I wish you and yours a prosperous and happy new year, with good health and sweet things. Here are two festive recipes, the materials for which are available all along Stockton Street.
好事發財 (prosperous affairs and strike it rich)
海參燜豬手 (sea cucumber and pork knuckle)
The Spring Festival (春節 'cheun jit') starts on Friday February 16 this year.
The parade will take place a week later, Saturday February 24.
Just like every year I shall not watch it.
I am not fond of crowds.
新年快樂 'San nin faai lok'.
萬事如意 'Maan si yü yi'.
身體健康 'San tai gin hong'.
五福臨門 'Ng fuk lin mun'.
舉家歡樂 'Geui gaa fun lok'.
==========================================================================
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LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
WHEN THE WEATHER REFLECTS YOUR SOUL
Like many of you I have friends who live in different places, so just for the hell of it I looked up what the weather is like there during the day. Here in San Francisco, of course, everything is hunky dory. At the moment this is the best part of the universe, and most conducive to human comfort.
Please don't move here.
COMPARISON
SF: Balmy mid sixties (63°F). No precipitation. Zephyrs.
New York: Freezing (0°C). Wet.
Chicago: Bloody cold. And wet.
Vancouver, BC: Miserable, but not wet.
Hong Kong: Warmer (66°F) and wetter than SF.
Singapore: Considerably warmer (84°F) than HK, not as wet.
Hamburg: Like Chicago, not as wet by half.
Amsterdam: Warmer than the Germans (36°F). Wetter too.
Antwerp: Meh, nothing to recommend it.
Zurich: Like a'dam, but less rain.
Conway, SC: Very much like SF right now, but wetter.
Fujian: Will be as warm as us in a few days.
Shanghai: Not as warm.
Beijing: Kind of unpleasant.
Florida, where the window frogs are, is a dozen degrees warmer than here.
In Ireland, Reykjavik, Novgorod, and Stavanger, it is absolutely beastly.
No wonder those people are crazy and smell mildewed.
They might as well shift to Glasgow.
The food is better.
You can tell from these results that the Bay Area and the South China Coast are very nice places to be right now. Here in the city we have more bars and coffeeshops per capita than anywhere else. We're drunk, and we read a lot.
Tobacco is severely restricted, but potent strains of marijuana are widely and legally available. Many of us are out of our minds.
And we might be naked.
Bangalore (Karnataka), where Sunny V. C. represents the fraternity, is a lot like Singapore this time of year, but there is some rain, and the authorities are not nearly as stiff-arsed about smoking and spitting.
In Bombay and Poona it is too hot.
And the middle of the day.
Ice cream time.
AFTERWORD FOR TOBACCO MAVENS
As a side note to Joe F., I have finished the sample of Yorktown that you sent me. It was delicious. Whether or not I can get Brian to order it, I will acquire more. The first bowl was unexceptional, but after a little drying it became stellar. For a straight Virginia product it was a wonderful smoke, as a blending component I might experiment by adding up to four or five percent Perique or Firecured. Or both, in different proportions.
I think Adrian in Hong Kong would like it.
As a change from Elizabethan.
It is similar to Virginia Woods.
But much better.
JimInks on Tobacco Reviews hit it right on the head.
So did SteelCowboy.
And like BrittPark wrote, smoke slow.
Which is always good advice.
TOBACCO INDEX
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Please don't move here.
COMPARISON
SF: Balmy mid sixties (63°F). No precipitation. Zephyrs.
New York: Freezing (0°C). Wet.
Chicago: Bloody cold. And wet.
Vancouver, BC: Miserable, but not wet.
Hong Kong: Warmer (66°F) and wetter than SF.
Singapore: Considerably warmer (84°F) than HK, not as wet.
Hamburg: Like Chicago, not as wet by half.
Amsterdam: Warmer than the Germans (36°F). Wetter too.
Antwerp: Meh, nothing to recommend it.
Zurich: Like a'dam, but less rain.
Conway, SC: Very much like SF right now, but wetter.
Fujian: Will be as warm as us in a few days.
Shanghai: Not as warm.
Beijing: Kind of unpleasant.
Florida, where the window frogs are, is a dozen degrees warmer than here.
In Ireland, Reykjavik, Novgorod, and Stavanger, it is absolutely beastly.
No wonder those people are crazy and smell mildewed.
They might as well shift to Glasgow.
The food is better.
You can tell from these results that the Bay Area and the South China Coast are very nice places to be right now. Here in the city we have more bars and coffeeshops per capita than anywhere else. We're drunk, and we read a lot.
Tobacco is severely restricted, but potent strains of marijuana are widely and legally available. Many of us are out of our minds.
And we might be naked.
Bangalore (Karnataka), where Sunny V. C. represents the fraternity, is a lot like Singapore this time of year, but there is some rain, and the authorities are not nearly as stiff-arsed about smoking and spitting.
In Bombay and Poona it is too hot.
And the middle of the day.
Ice cream time.
AFTERWORD FOR TOBACCO MAVENS
As a side note to Joe F., I have finished the sample of Yorktown that you sent me. It was delicious. Whether or not I can get Brian to order it, I will acquire more. The first bowl was unexceptional, but after a little drying it became stellar. For a straight Virginia product it was a wonderful smoke, as a blending component I might experiment by adding up to four or five percent Perique or Firecured. Or both, in different proportions.
I think Adrian in Hong Kong would like it.
As a change from Elizabethan.
It is similar to Virginia Woods.
But much better.
JimInks on Tobacco Reviews hit it right on the head.
So did SteelCowboy.
And like BrittPark wrote, smoke slow.
Which is always good advice.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
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==========================================================================
Friday, February 09, 2018
WHEN I THINK OF HAMBURG ...
We Dutch have a weird streak a mile wide at times, but we are by no means the worst. That honour may fall to the Germans who are positively English in their perversion. As a strong indication thereof, I'll cite from an article in De Telegraaf (Holland's foremost newspaper) about a doctor warning against excessive masturbation.
" ... een man uit Hamburg die een plastic zak over zijn hoofd trok en zichzelf bevredigde voor de kachel. De man werd levenloos aangetroffen met plakjes kaas verspreid over zijn lichaam en een panty over zijn bovenlijf. Voor de rest was hij gekleed in een duikersoutfit en een regenjas."
[Translation: "a man from Hamburg who pulled a plastic bag over his head and "satisfied" himself in front of the gas heater. The man was found lifeless covered with slices of cheese and wearing a pantie on his upper body. For the rest, he was dressed in a diving outfit and a raincoat."]
There are things, many things, that inquisitive minds might want to know after reading this, but I shan't explore them, because just seeing that paragraph above already woke me up enough.
He has come and gone.
We Netherlanders and Dutch-Americans cannot possibly top that.
I don't think any one of us wants to either.
We're happy being dull.
==========================================================================
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==========================================================================
" ... een man uit Hamburg die een plastic zak over zijn hoofd trok en zichzelf bevredigde voor de kachel. De man werd levenloos aangetroffen met plakjes kaas verspreid over zijn lichaam en een panty over zijn bovenlijf. Voor de rest was hij gekleed in een duikersoutfit en een regenjas."
[Translation: "a man from Hamburg who pulled a plastic bag over his head and "satisfied" himself in front of the gas heater. The man was found lifeless covered with slices of cheese and wearing a pantie on his upper body. For the rest, he was dressed in a diving outfit and a raincoat."]
There are things, many things, that inquisitive minds might want to know after reading this, but I shan't explore them, because just seeing that paragraph above already woke me up enough.
He has come and gone.
We Netherlanders and Dutch-Americans cannot possibly top that.
I don't think any one of us wants to either.
We're happy being dull.
==========================================================================
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All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, February 08, 2018
TWENTY YEARS OF PROGRESS
The nineteen seventies were not known for excellence or good taste, and given how gracelessly they segued into the horrors of the Reagan Era, it is good that they are forgotten.
Bell bottoms, hair, and crocodile green.
A lingering patchouli smell.
The end of a war.
The eighties through the nineties gave us 'Grunge', which was both a musical style and a rotten attitude.
Thinking back, it now seems like the best things to come out of the entire Reagan-Bush period were Hong Kong movies, Sriracha hot sauce, and real coffee. Anglo-Americans were no longer Waspifying their food.
And they finally got their beans on.
Also, once we got away from ass-tight blue jeans, there was the renaissance of boxer shorts. Which is altogether a good thing. Neither Ronnie nor George had anything to do with all this, though.
The seventies were in many ways putrid.
As were the eighties and nineties.
Be glad that's over.
==========================================================================
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LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Bell bottoms, hair, and crocodile green.
A lingering patchouli smell.
The end of a war.
The eighties through the nineties gave us 'Grunge', which was both a musical style and a rotten attitude.
Thinking back, it now seems like the best things to come out of the entire Reagan-Bush period were Hong Kong movies, Sriracha hot sauce, and real coffee. Anglo-Americans were no longer Waspifying their food.
And they finally got their beans on.
Also, once we got away from ass-tight blue jeans, there was the renaissance of boxer shorts. Which is altogether a good thing. Neither Ronnie nor George had anything to do with all this, though.
The seventies were in many ways putrid.
As were the eighties and nineties.
Be glad that's over.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
ALWAYS LEARNING
Last night I found out what a 'Vodka Aunt' is. It was also the first time I had ever run across the term, and it is surprising to me that that took so long. Because like everyone else I know a number of Vodka Aunts. Not very many of them, but enough that the type is familiar.
In my world, not all of them are male.
Some are drag queens.
I myself represent a similar concept. I am tobacco uncle. Because if a kid is going to experiment with tobacco, it is right and proper that he or she do it correctly, namely in a pipe carefully puffing good stuff -- a proper English mixture (marked by the assertive presence of Latakia) or a VaPer, which is Virginia and Perique, to be savoured slowly and calmly -- in private, and with a sufficiency of pipe cleaners. It's probably best for a teenager to start with a VaPer, because it's a little easier to hide from prudes in the family.
Don't forget the chewing gum, and wash your face before dinner.
Now, stay away from Weed Cousin. He's a bad influence.
And the less you associate with your Christian relatives, the better.
They believe all manner of goofy shiznit.
And they voted for a prick.
Kid, I'll be there to bail you out of jail for punching a nazi.
Nicotine is beneficial to the short term memory and intellectual processes, which is why so many scientists and authors were pipe smokers.
It may have neuroprotective and antioxidant effects.
And enhances cognitive function.
It saved Bertrand William Arthur Russell's life.
And it's better than eating lard.
Out of the can.
==========================================================================
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All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
In my world, not all of them are male.
Some are drag queens.
I myself represent a similar concept. I am tobacco uncle. Because if a kid is going to experiment with tobacco, it is right and proper that he or she do it correctly, namely in a pipe carefully puffing good stuff -- a proper English mixture (marked by the assertive presence of Latakia) or a VaPer, which is Virginia and Perique, to be savoured slowly and calmly -- in private, and with a sufficiency of pipe cleaners. It's probably best for a teenager to start with a VaPer, because it's a little easier to hide from prudes in the family.
Don't forget the chewing gum, and wash your face before dinner.
Now, stay away from Weed Cousin. He's a bad influence.
And the less you associate with your Christian relatives, the better.
They believe all manner of goofy shiznit.
And they voted for a prick.
Kid, I'll be there to bail you out of jail for punching a nazi.
Nicotine is beneficial to the short term memory and intellectual processes, which is why so many scientists and authors were pipe smokers.
It may have neuroprotective and antioxidant effects.
And enhances cognitive function.
It saved Bertrand William Arthur Russell's life.
And it's better than eating lard.
Out of the can.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, February 07, 2018
NICE PLACES IN CHINATOWN REVISITED
Four years ago I detailed several places in Chinatown where snacks, pastries, and dim sum items could be found, along with milk tea and nice eaties. Regular readers know that I have been a bachelor now for several years and usually dine out, because I no longer have anyone to eat with or for whom to cook, and that supper surrounded by nobody at all is rather uninspiring.
Unless one has had a few drinks and prepares oneself a late night snack with lots of chilies. Which can be fun, as well as educational.
It's not really social, though.
A while back someone asked if everything on the list was the same. No, it isn't. A number of places have changed hands or closed, like with several other businesses in the neighborhood, some of which had been there for generations. Chinatown is not the same.
The ABC大餐廳 closed nearly a year ago. Blossom Bakery ("Fortune Bakery", 幸福餅家) has changed ownership and slipped downhill, the milk tea is poor. Dick Lee (得利點心) has a for rent sign on the shutters.
[Respectively: 650 Jackson Street, 133 Waverly Place, and 716 Jackson Street.]
iCafe San Francisco appears to have been sold and is now called Tea Bear Cafe (熊茶館). I haven't tried it yet.
[57 Walter U. Lum Place.]
Maggie's Cafe is now affiliated with the restaurant next door, which may have changed hands.
[848 Grant Avenue.]
The New Anna Bakery (安娜閣) has become Sam Wo's new location after a hiatus of a few years since the closing of the old place on Washington.
[715 Clay Street]
New Fortune on Stockton (富祥點心) got sold very recently and serves plate lunches and a selection of noodles, I haven't been there yet.
Their gai bau and pork siu mai were delicious.
[815 Stockton Street.]
I haven't been to Sweet Mart (好好味) since they palmed off a thoroughly miserable beverage as HK milk tea (warm milk and a green tea bag!), and that location may be rented to a new owner soon.
[727 Washington Street.]
Wa Li Bakery and Cafe (華麗餠家) is now Little Swan (小天鵝), and entirely new. Great cakes and pastries in the window.
[1249 Stockton Street.]
. . . . .
I still go the Washington Bakery (華盛頓茶餐廳) for early dinner, and also the AA on Stockton (永興餅家茶餐廳) for truly delicious egg tarts and charsiu turnovers, Yummy Fastfood (金華點心快餐) for the soup and three dishes (三餸一湯), and the New Hollywood (荷里活茶餐廳) for lo po beng (老婆餅) or porkchops.
華盛頓茶餐廳
WASHINGTON BAKERY AND RESTAURANT
733 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-397-3232
舊金山，華盛頓街733號。
永興餅家茶餐廳
AA BAKERY & CAFE
1068 Stockton Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-981-0123
舊金山，市德頓街1068號。
金華點心快餐
YUMMY DIM SUM & FAST FOOD
930 Stockton Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-308-3819, 415-828-0856, 415-986-2783
舊金山，市德頓街930號。
荷里活茶餐廳
NEW HOLLYWOOD BAKERY & RESTAURANT
652 Pacific Avenue
San Francisco, CA 94133.
415-397-9919
舊金山，柏思域街652號。
Yummy Bakery (人仁西餅麵包) on Jackson is still thriving, good for a quick teatime snack.
人仁西餅麵包
YUMMY BAKERY
607 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-989-8388
舊金山，昃臣街607號。
The Utopia Cafe (蔘滿意粥) at 139 Waverly Place, which wasn't on that list, had excellent jook and the best yautiu. They also specialized in claypot dishes, which were very good indeed. But they are now called something else in Chinese (牛麵王), appear to be new people entirely, and the present focus is on beef noodle soup.
Across the street The Boiling Shrimp is a very nice place.
Chachanteng style, but with a smaller menu.
I thoroughly enjoy going there.
浩味茶餐廳
THE BOILING SHRIMP
150 Waverly Place
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-658-7168
舊金山，天后廟街150號。
There are four places I have not been to in a few years. Not because they've changed or gone downhill, but purely because I myself am a bit peculiar about certain things. At one of them the waitress, a very nice woman, seemed to be interested in me, and at another restaurant wanted to set me up with her friend. Now, while I speak Cantonese sort of well, I do not think in that language, and I really doubt that I would be ideal for someone who did. Especially if they could not do so in English. There would be too many expectational differences, and as a presentable white dude I am deceptive; what you think you see is not entirely what you get.
That right there is a flaw in the ointment.
At a third restaurant, the attractive young lady who worked there all the way through school has left. First they had an uncle replace her, then some country cousin. It just wasn't the same.
At the fourth place I just stopped going for a while, and that became a habit. But their food never ceased being wonderful, and they will be a great place to start going back to eventually. Perhaps with someone.
Just like the third one I mentioned.
And maybe the first two.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Unless one has had a few drinks and prepares oneself a late night snack with lots of chilies. Which can be fun, as well as educational.
It's not really social, though.
A while back someone asked if everything on the list was the same. No, it isn't. A number of places have changed hands or closed, like with several other businesses in the neighborhood, some of which had been there for generations. Chinatown is not the same.
The ABC大餐廳 closed nearly a year ago. Blossom Bakery ("Fortune Bakery", 幸福餅家) has changed ownership and slipped downhill, the milk tea is poor. Dick Lee (得利點心) has a for rent sign on the shutters.
[Respectively: 650 Jackson Street, 133 Waverly Place, and 716 Jackson Street.]
iCafe San Francisco appears to have been sold and is now called Tea Bear Cafe (熊茶館). I haven't tried it yet.
[57 Walter U. Lum Place.]
Maggie's Cafe is now affiliated with the restaurant next door, which may have changed hands.
[848 Grant Avenue.]
The New Anna Bakery (安娜閣) has become Sam Wo's new location after a hiatus of a few years since the closing of the old place on Washington.
[715 Clay Street]
New Fortune on Stockton (富祥點心) got sold very recently and serves plate lunches and a selection of noodles, I haven't been there yet.
Their gai bau and pork siu mai were delicious.
[815 Stockton Street.]
I haven't been to Sweet Mart (好好味) since they palmed off a thoroughly miserable beverage as HK milk tea (warm milk and a green tea bag!), and that location may be rented to a new owner soon.
[727 Washington Street.]
Wa Li Bakery and Cafe (華麗餠家) is now Little Swan (小天鵝), and entirely new. Great cakes and pastries in the window.
[1249 Stockton Street.]
. . . . .
I still go the Washington Bakery (華盛頓茶餐廳) for early dinner, and also the AA on Stockton (永興餅家茶餐廳) for truly delicious egg tarts and charsiu turnovers, Yummy Fastfood (金華點心快餐) for the soup and three dishes (三餸一湯), and the New Hollywood (荷里活茶餐廳) for lo po beng (老婆餅) or porkchops.
華盛頓茶餐廳
WASHINGTON BAKERY AND RESTAURANT
733 Washington Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-397-3232
舊金山，華盛頓街733號。
永興餅家茶餐廳
AA BAKERY & CAFE
1068 Stockton Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-981-0123
舊金山，市德頓街1068號。
金華點心快餐
YUMMY DIM SUM & FAST FOOD
930 Stockton Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-308-3819, 415-828-0856, 415-986-2783
舊金山，市德頓街930號。
荷里活茶餐廳
NEW HOLLYWOOD BAKERY & RESTAURANT
652 Pacific Avenue
San Francisco, CA 94133.
415-397-9919
舊金山，柏思域街652號。
Yummy Bakery (人仁西餅麵包) on Jackson is still thriving, good for a quick teatime snack.
人仁西餅麵包
YUMMY BAKERY
607 Jackson Street
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-989-8388
舊金山，昃臣街607號。
The Utopia Cafe (蔘滿意粥) at 139 Waverly Place, which wasn't on that list, had excellent jook and the best yautiu. They also specialized in claypot dishes, which were very good indeed. But they are now called something else in Chinese (牛麵王), appear to be new people entirely, and the present focus is on beef noodle soup.
Across the street The Boiling Shrimp is a very nice place.
Chachanteng style, but with a smaller menu.
I thoroughly enjoy going there.
浩味茶餐廳
THE BOILING SHRIMP
150 Waverly Place
San Francisco, CA 94108.
415-658-7168
舊金山，天后廟街150號。
There are four places I have not been to in a few years. Not because they've changed or gone downhill, but purely because I myself am a bit peculiar about certain things. At one of them the waitress, a very nice woman, seemed to be interested in me, and at another restaurant wanted to set me up with her friend. Now, while I speak Cantonese sort of well, I do not think in that language, and I really doubt that I would be ideal for someone who did. Especially if they could not do so in English. There would be too many expectational differences, and as a presentable white dude I am deceptive; what you think you see is not entirely what you get.
That right there is a flaw in the ointment.
At a third restaurant, the attractive young lady who worked there all the way through school has left. First they had an uncle replace her, then some country cousin. It just wasn't the same.
At the fourth place I just stopped going for a while, and that became a habit. But their food never ceased being wonderful, and they will be a great place to start going back to eventually. Perhaps with someone.
Just like the third one I mentioned.
And maybe the first two.
==========================================================================
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LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
A STREET WITH SCATTERED GINGKO LEAVES
Getting older is an adventure in discovering new peculiarities about myself of which I was not previously aware. Now, cynical friends (enemies) would say that there is enough material there to fill a library, and I should have started that journey years ago. Honestly, dude, it's long overdue.
To which, naturally, I would respond that they smell bad.
I am surprised they were ignorant of this.
No self-knowledge, evidently.
And complacent.
Looking at the tray of briar pipes near my chair I realized a fair number of them are in my mind associated with times and places, almost as if they have assumed a souvenirness, a mnemonic clarity. One pipe is Tuesday and Friday, sunny days only. The Hardcastle standee reminds me of grilled pork and iced Vietnamese coffee (and wet wintry weather), yet another of late summer evenings. There is Broadway in September and October, with a Perique mixture and bright sunlight.
Some pipes suggest an engineer or architect in the fifties and sixties, before the hippie revolution. Also pipes that are more seventies, but not the time with wide lapels and ugly colours. These pipes had previous owners.
Whom I know only by their passing.
And there are three briars that automatically bring up the intersection of a favourite alley and a street with ginkgo trees. Two of them are Chinatown during dark winter months, but not particularly cold or wet. A pastry at teatime, then a walk over the fallen yellow leaves outside the housing project, or past brick walls and the MaTsu temple towards Jackson.
The third is a reminder to have porkchops for lunch.
Which I think I will do. That restaurant near the alleyway closes in early afternoon, and the staff get a little antsy if you come after two.
So I will leave the house shortly after twelve PM.
But I will not bring that pipe with me.
Instead, GLP's Laurel Heights, after lunch, in a Peterson bent bulldog. Then after teatime, Stonehenge Flake in the black sandblast Peterson I bought in Woensel the last time I visited my father before his death, or the Dunhill sandblast which is permanently associated with insta-noodles.
I'll be lurking further up, near more ginkgo trees.
The afternoon sunlight is perfect there.
February, shirtsleeve weather.
Definitely not normal.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
To which, naturally, I would respond that they smell bad.
I am surprised they were ignorant of this.
No self-knowledge, evidently.
And complacent.
Looking at the tray of briar pipes near my chair I realized a fair number of them are in my mind associated with times and places, almost as if they have assumed a souvenirness, a mnemonic clarity. One pipe is Tuesday and Friday, sunny days only. The Hardcastle standee reminds me of grilled pork and iced Vietnamese coffee (and wet wintry weather), yet another of late summer evenings. There is Broadway in September and October, with a Perique mixture and bright sunlight.
Some pipes suggest an engineer or architect in the fifties and sixties, before the hippie revolution. Also pipes that are more seventies, but not the time with wide lapels and ugly colours. These pipes had previous owners.
Whom I know only by their passing.
And there are three briars that automatically bring up the intersection of a favourite alley and a street with ginkgo trees. Two of them are Chinatown during dark winter months, but not particularly cold or wet. A pastry at teatime, then a walk over the fallen yellow leaves outside the housing project, or past brick walls and the MaTsu temple towards Jackson.
The third is a reminder to have porkchops for lunch.
Which I think I will do. That restaurant near the alleyway closes in early afternoon, and the staff get a little antsy if you come after two.
So I will leave the house shortly after twelve PM.
But I will not bring that pipe with me.
Instead, GLP's Laurel Heights, after lunch, in a Peterson bent bulldog. Then after teatime, Stonehenge Flake in the black sandblast Peterson I bought in Woensel the last time I visited my father before his death, or the Dunhill sandblast which is permanently associated with insta-noodles.
I'll be lurking further up, near more ginkgo trees.
The afternoon sunlight is perfect there.
February, shirtsleeve weather.
Definitely not normal.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
DO NOT TOUCH HER TEA CAKE!
Some dingbat in the advertising Standards Authority doesn't want me to enjoy my tea cakes, and that irritates me no end. Especially as until moments ago I didn't even know that I liked tea cakes.
Specifically, Tunnock's Tea Cakes.
I had to visit the internet to find out what they are.
"Soft marshmallow on a biscuit base fully coated in real milk chocolate."
That sounds pretty good.
What roused the ire of the Advertising Standards Authority was this ad:
It gave me an appreciation for tennis I never had before.
Per Wikipedia: "A teacake in England is a light yeast-based sweet bun containing dried fruit, typically served toasted and buttered. In the U.S. teacakes can be cookies or small cakes. In Sweden they are soft round flat wheat breads made with milk and a little sugar, and used to make sandwiches, with butter, and for example ham and/or cheese. In India and Australia a teacake is more like a sponge cake. Tea refers to the popular beverage to which these baked goods are an accompaniment."
And: "The Tunnock's Teacake, made in Scotland but popular throughout the UK, is a chocolate-coated marshmallow with a round biscuit base. The dome comprises Italian meringue, a whipped egg white concoction similar to marshmallow, encased in chocolate."
There's an entire world out there I did not know existed.
Normally, I associate teatime with either a wife biscuit (老婆餅 'lou po beng') or a very similar red bean confection (豆沙餅 'dau saa beng'), even a preserved egg flaky (two types: 皮蛋酥 'pei daan sou', 鹹蛋酥 'haam daan sou'). And a multitude of other scrumptious things from C'town bakeries.
In England of course hot scones with clotted cream and preserves, such as is not uncommon in Devon or Cornwall. Perhaps Dundee Cake.
The Tunnock-style item probably became better known or more widely distributed long after I returned to the United States.
I'll check at the English import shop.
They may have it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Specifically, Tunnock's Tea Cakes.
I had to visit the internet to find out what they are.
"Soft marshmallow on a biscuit base fully coated in real milk chocolate."
That sounds pretty good.
What roused the ire of the Advertising Standards Authority was this ad:
It gave me an appreciation for tennis I never had before.
Per Wikipedia: "A teacake in England is a light yeast-based sweet bun containing dried fruit, typically served toasted and buttered. In the U.S. teacakes can be cookies or small cakes. In Sweden they are soft round flat wheat breads made with milk and a little sugar, and used to make sandwiches, with butter, and for example ham and/or cheese. In India and Australia a teacake is more like a sponge cake. Tea refers to the popular beverage to which these baked goods are an accompaniment."
And: "The Tunnock's Teacake, made in Scotland but popular throughout the UK, is a chocolate-coated marshmallow with a round biscuit base. The dome comprises Italian meringue, a whipped egg white concoction similar to marshmallow, encased in chocolate."
There's an entire world out there I did not know existed.
Normally, I associate teatime with either a wife biscuit (老婆餅 'lou po beng') or a very similar red bean confection (豆沙餅 'dau saa beng'), even a preserved egg flaky (two types: 皮蛋酥 'pei daan sou', 鹹蛋酥 'haam daan sou'). And a multitude of other scrumptious things from C'town bakeries.
In England of course hot scones with clotted cream and preserves, such as is not uncommon in Devon or Cornwall. Perhaps Dundee Cake.
The Tunnock-style item probably became better known or more widely distributed long after I returned to the United States.
I'll check at the English import shop.
They may have it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, February 06, 2018
MY UNMENTIONABLE SUCCESSES
Haircut: My barber often talks crap with the customers, but he always tries to make sure they know that the middle-aged white dude waiting his turn on the couch speaks Cantonese. Just so that they're forewarned.
Because Cantonese-speaking white dudes listen in.
We're kind of sneaky that way.
Apparently I have success chasing girls by being able to speak Cantonese (hoo-hah!), get the best food in restaurants (sometimes true), have a lot of money (that's a laugh), and am desperate for the kind of attention that the woman getting her hair dyed red can give (no).
A long wait -- three people having their hair dyed or waved, one guy with a variation on the military cut -- but a very quick snip. I look clean now.
Which is precisely right for New Years, coming up in ten days.
過年，啊，好忙！
Perhaps I should have come earlier. Still, when I left more than two hours later, there were four more people waiting, including a pissed-off gentleman and his smiling wife (she didn't need a haircut, he did), and a number of phone-callers had been informed that he couldn't do them today.
Everybody is getting their hair cut for new year!
Well, being white, that means a little less to me than most normal people.
But I knew it would be a battle, so I got out of the house before noon.
After my haircut I had lunch.
Then a smoke. Then did some vegetable shopping, had a cup of milk tea and a wife biscuit, and had another smoke. Home, and coffee.
I'm feeling a slight urge to have yet one more smoke.
And my head is itchy, I must scratch.
But which pipe shall I chose?
Maybe a squat bulldog.
Or a Peterson.
AFTER WORDS: OPERATIONAL VOCABULARY
髮廊 ('faat long'): Hair salon.
理髮師 ('faat long si'): Barber.
理髮 ('lei faat'): Haircut.
追女仔 ('jeui neui chai'): Chasing girls.
奶茶 ('naai chaa'): Milk tea.
老婆餅 ('lou po beng'): Wife biscuit.
煙斗 ('yin tau'): Pipe (for tobacco).
煙草，煙絲 ('yin tsou', 'yin si'): Tobacco (for the pipe). The first term is more common than the second.
白歐石楠 ('paak au sek naam'): Erica arborea; briar, out of which smoking pipes are made.
There are no easy equivalents for the terms 'squat bulldog' or 'Peterson'.
The first is a pipe shape, the second a well-known pipe brand from Ireland, and unless otherwise specified a full bent system standard is usually meant, with a military mount and a nickel ferrule. And I shan't even try to find out how to explain that in Cantonese, though it certainly can be done.
𢯎痕 ('aau han'): scratch an itch.
痕癢 ('han yueng'): suffer an itch.
This is what "chasing girls" might look like.
I doubt that it would work.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Because Cantonese-speaking white dudes listen in.
We're kind of sneaky that way.
Apparently I have success chasing girls by being able to speak Cantonese (hoo-hah!), get the best food in restaurants (sometimes true), have a lot of money (that's a laugh), and am desperate for the kind of attention that the woman getting her hair dyed red can give (no).
A long wait -- three people having their hair dyed or waved, one guy with a variation on the military cut -- but a very quick snip. I look clean now.
Which is precisely right for New Years, coming up in ten days.
過年，啊，好忙！
Perhaps I should have come earlier. Still, when I left more than two hours later, there were four more people waiting, including a pissed-off gentleman and his smiling wife (she didn't need a haircut, he did), and a number of phone-callers had been informed that he couldn't do them today.
Everybody is getting their hair cut for new year!
Well, being white, that means a little less to me than most normal people.
But I knew it would be a battle, so I got out of the house before noon.
After my haircut I had lunch.
Then a smoke. Then did some vegetable shopping, had a cup of milk tea and a wife biscuit, and had another smoke. Home, and coffee.
I'm feeling a slight urge to have yet one more smoke.
And my head is itchy, I must scratch.
But which pipe shall I chose?
Maybe a squat bulldog.
Or a Peterson.
AFTER WORDS: OPERATIONAL VOCABULARY
髮廊 ('faat long'): Hair salon.
理髮師 ('faat long si'): Barber.
理髮 ('lei faat'): Haircut.
追女仔 ('jeui neui chai'): Chasing girls.
奶茶 ('naai chaa'): Milk tea.
老婆餅 ('lou po beng'): Wife biscuit.
煙斗 ('yin tau'): Pipe (for tobacco).
煙草，煙絲 ('yin tsou', 'yin si'): Tobacco (for the pipe). The first term is more common than the second.
白歐石楠 ('paak au sek naam'): Erica arborea; briar, out of which smoking pipes are made.
There are no easy equivalents for the terms 'squat bulldog' or 'Peterson'.
The first is a pipe shape, the second a well-known pipe brand from Ireland, and unless otherwise specified a full bent system standard is usually meant, with a military mount and a nickel ferrule. And I shan't even try to find out how to explain that in Cantonese, though it certainly can be done.
𢯎痕 ('aau han'): scratch an itch.
痕癢 ('han yueng'): suffer an itch.
This is what "chasing girls" might look like.
I doubt that it would work.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
BANANAS ARE THE WHITEST FRUIT
One really must sympathize with the Ecuadorian Embassy staff in London, because it looks like they will be stuck living with an unwashed Australian rapist for the rest of their lives. He grows increasingly irascible, and probably spends his days playing Candy Crush.
Or cruising anime porn.
變態的人。
It must pall.
Poor blighters.
I encourage everyone to mail them cans of SpaghettiOs for his sandwiches.
Home cooking might humanize him.
Embajada del Ecuador en Reino Unido
Flat 3b, 3 Hans Crescent, Knightsbridge,
London SW1X 0L
Great Britain.
[Para la atención del personal de cocina (quienes sufren mucho).]
In other news, I have realized that there are many parts of The United States that I do not wish to visit. What ties them all together is their diet.
I will not go anywhere that does not have easily accessed restaurants with a bottle of Sriracha or a jar of sambal oelek on the premises, although I will make an exception for Boro Park and Hungarian Kosher Cuisine, for the best kosher flaishigge sushi. Every permutation of pastrami, crunchy onion, sweet patata, chicken, and mango possible. It's "absolutely delicious".
Including the (cooked) turkey and sauteed onion roll.
I'll bring my own hot chili condiments.
And oyster sauce.
I am not entirely sure that yams are edible.
Maybe add a can of SpaghettiOs.
Or oyster sauce.
Chilies.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Or cruising anime porn.
變態的人。
It must pall.
Poor blighters.
I encourage everyone to mail them cans of SpaghettiOs for his sandwiches.
Home cooking might humanize him.
Embajada del Ecuador en Reino Unido
Flat 3b, 3 Hans Crescent, Knightsbridge,
London SW1X 0L
Great Britain.
[Para la atención del personal de cocina (quienes sufren mucho).]
In other news, I have realized that there are many parts of The United States that I do not wish to visit. What ties them all together is their diet.
I will not go anywhere that does not have easily accessed restaurants with a bottle of Sriracha or a jar of sambal oelek on the premises, although I will make an exception for Boro Park and Hungarian Kosher Cuisine, for the best kosher flaishigge sushi. Every permutation of pastrami, crunchy onion, sweet patata, chicken, and mango possible. It's "absolutely delicious".
Including the (cooked) turkey and sauteed onion roll.
I'll bring my own hot chili condiments.
And oyster sauce.
I am not entirely sure that yams are edible.
Maybe add a can of SpaghettiOs.
Or oyster sauce.
Chilies.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, February 05, 2018
IT'S TOASTY
Late at night a homeless person laboriously shleps his barang up the street from Polk, dawdles a bit at the bus stop, then in a doorway one over, before trudging past. We exchange polite good evenings, he proceeds further on and further up, I return to thoughtfulness half awake in the portico of my apartment building with my pipe. Perforce I must smoke outside (for the better part of the bowl), because my housemate is upstairs asleep in her room with the Teddy Bear and the Giant Penguin, and would be aghast at the idea of tobacco fumes sneaking in and stinking them up.
I am conscientious, up to a point.
Near the end of the bowl I come back in, and do some dishes, in the kitchen next to the open window. This is not the same window that the Malaysian shrimp pickle erupted out from several years ago, when the bookseller and myself wished to sample it after our usual late night jaunt.
When I uncorked it, it spewed.
We never tasted it. And I haven't bought another bottle.
Tonight's dinner was also Malay. Sort of. Dutch Indonesian. Nasi goreng, which is fried rice with sweet soy sauce, dried salty fish, grilled meat, vegetable, a fried egg (mata sapi) on top, and various spices.
A large quantity of plain chili paste (sambal ulek).
And a dozen dark-fried birdseye chilies.
That last item is not really standard, though highly recommended, primarily for the flavour they give to the oil. And you might come a cropper next morning if you consume them. The heat is ... "much".
Eh, I'll eat a few. Sangat sedap.
A last and final cup of strong coffee before bed.
I am tempted to smoke another pipe.
But I am too tired.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I am conscientious, up to a point.
Near the end of the bowl I come back in, and do some dishes, in the kitchen next to the open window. This is not the same window that the Malaysian shrimp pickle erupted out from several years ago, when the bookseller and myself wished to sample it after our usual late night jaunt.
When I uncorked it, it spewed.
We never tasted it. And I haven't bought another bottle.
Tonight's dinner was also Malay. Sort of. Dutch Indonesian. Nasi goreng, which is fried rice with sweet soy sauce, dried salty fish, grilled meat, vegetable, a fried egg (mata sapi) on top, and various spices.
A large quantity of plain chili paste (sambal ulek).
And a dozen dark-fried birdseye chilies.
That last item is not really standard, though highly recommended, primarily for the flavour they give to the oil. And you might come a cropper next morning if you consume them. The heat is ... "much".
Eh, I'll eat a few. Sangat sedap.
A last and final cup of strong coffee before bed.
I am tempted to smoke another pipe.
But I am too tired.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
MAKING THE SWITCH
Somewhere a wild animal is grinning to himself. Because despite the monkeys watching teevee in the lounge yesterday, with their snotty attitude and utter disregard for any other creatures, despite their flinging poo while snarfing bananas, despite their being utter blisters AND supporting the wrong team, yesterday was an all-right kind of day.
No, Mr. Badger did not watch the game. I'll just imagine that it was fabulous and a cliffhanger like all previous games of its kind.
Yesterday upon returning home Mr. Badger fixed himself lunch, and cracked open a tin of truly excellent tobacco, the smell of which, fecund and complex, spoke of forest glades, slanting sunlight, sunny days, the herbs of spring and the hues of autumn, temperate weather, and the finer moments in life, such as for instance after tea time when twilight starts.
Great smokes, honeybun!
Followed by a jaunt to the karaoke bar later to dawdle in the downstairs portico, long after dark, enjoying another bowlful.
Instead of tea, I made coffee. Because I didn't want to go over to Chinatown for a cup of gong sik naai cha (港式奶茶) as I would on a day of leisure.
Such as Tuesday, Wednesday, or Friday. It felt too late for that.
Though it was still light.
STONEHENGE FLAKE
By GLP
Haven't smoked this product in a few months, as I've been having tonnes of fun with both Montgomery, and Laurel Heights (which has more red Virginia, and is more subtle), as well as revisiting two of my own blends.
Also Telegraph Hill, but there was only one tin.
Same with Fillmore.
Mr. Badger irritatingly switches back and forth between first person singular and third person fictional with the greatest of ease.
Facilitated by good tobacco.
Started the day with Laurel Heights, which was also the last pipe while at work. Three hours later lighted up the first bowl of Stonehenge. Sheerly wonderful. Last smoke of the day was also that flake.
[FILLMORE: A well-made broken Flake. LAUREL HEIGHTS: Virginias with a discreet hint of Latakia. A complex mixture which is very nice after the first bowl or two. It is rather subtle.
LOMBARD: Virginias with a light addition of Latakia and Perique. An old-fashioned blend. MONTGOMERY: Top shelf! Virginias, and a touch of firecured. TELEGRAPH HILL: Virginia and Perique. Complex, but not assertive. A jolly good smoke.]
[Yeah, I think I'll start avoiding the karaoke bar. I realize that by their hip standards I'm just the old fart who hangs around, and not quite worth treating like an equal. And I resent being asked to klink glasses when you gave every one else a shot to klink with. Twice. And even three or four times, for your "friends". Next to me on both sides. 屌你嘅。]
Three cups of coffee between leaving work and bed time.
And twirling, twirling, twirling!
Today should be good.
Stonehenge.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
No, Mr. Badger did not watch the game. I'll just imagine that it was fabulous and a cliffhanger like all previous games of its kind.
Yesterday upon returning home Mr. Badger fixed himself lunch, and cracked open a tin of truly excellent tobacco, the smell of which, fecund and complex, spoke of forest glades, slanting sunlight, sunny days, the herbs of spring and the hues of autumn, temperate weather, and the finer moments in life, such as for instance after tea time when twilight starts.
Great smokes, honeybun!
Followed by a jaunt to the karaoke bar later to dawdle in the downstairs portico, long after dark, enjoying another bowlful.
Instead of tea, I made coffee. Because I didn't want to go over to Chinatown for a cup of gong sik naai cha (港式奶茶) as I would on a day of leisure.
Such as Tuesday, Wednesday, or Friday. It felt too late for that.
Though it was still light.
STONEHENGE FLAKE
By GLP
Haven't smoked this product in a few months, as I've been having tonnes of fun with both Montgomery, and Laurel Heights (which has more red Virginia, and is more subtle), as well as revisiting two of my own blends.
Also Telegraph Hill, but there was only one tin.
Same with Fillmore.
Mr. Badger irritatingly switches back and forth between first person singular and third person fictional with the greatest of ease.
Facilitated by good tobacco.
Started the day with Laurel Heights, which was also the last pipe while at work. Three hours later lighted up the first bowl of Stonehenge. Sheerly wonderful. Last smoke of the day was also that flake.
[FILLMORE: A well-made broken Flake. LAUREL HEIGHTS: Virginias with a discreet hint of Latakia. A complex mixture which is very nice after the first bowl or two. It is rather subtle.
LOMBARD: Virginias with a light addition of Latakia and Perique. An old-fashioned blend. MONTGOMERY: Top shelf! Virginias, and a touch of firecured. TELEGRAPH HILL: Virginia and Perique. Complex, but not assertive. A jolly good smoke.]
[Yeah, I think I'll start avoiding the karaoke bar. I realize that by their hip standards I'm just the old fart who hangs around, and not quite worth treating like an equal. And I resent being asked to klink glasses when you gave every one else a shot to klink with. Twice. And even three or four times, for your "friends". Next to me on both sides. 屌你嘅。]
Three cups of coffee between leaving work and bed time.
And twirling, twirling, twirling!
Today should be good.
Stonehenge.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
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GRITS AND TOFU
Like most Americans, I have a list of people who should be peacefully retired from public service and thereafter kept away from their desks,...
