On Moishe, on Herschel, on Schlomo!
Joy of joys: a Cheap Ass Monday that does not revolve around beans as a source of protein! Yea, there is nary a legume to be seen here.
Okay, that is not technically true, as there are peanuts involved and it is in fact the case that peanuts are legumes and not true nuts. But shut up, because you know what I meant. Do I come to your blog and nitpick you?*
Tonight, in a slightly fancy-pantsier version of Cheap Ass Mondays, protein and fiber-rich whole grains and veggies come together in curried summer vegetable fritters with sweet chili sauce and a peanut-quinoa pilaf. Or, for the more humble minded among us, veggie latkes with quinoa. L’chaim!
*I might, but I probably have a VERY GOOD REASON.
This edible horror originally photographed and uploaded by Just Jefa.
Yes, it’s food. But what the hell is it?
There’s tons of delicious, lavicious food pr0n out there – Tastespotting, Foodgawker and dozens upon dozens of blogs with professional quality, gorgeous styling and photography.
But where is the hilarious? The grotesque? The truly unfortunate?
I got your grotesque right here, baby. Welcome to a new daily feature: The frig? And so I ask you:
It’s not a question, it’s a statement. You WOULD like to know.
I’ve been pondering some new content for TNS. You know, to make it more of a hip, happening place where the kids will want to hang out when they’re not at the sock hop or the weenie roast.* The Smackdown will always be the heart and soul, but I’m going to start adding some shorter daily content as well.
One of the new features I’m planning is 30-second, 5-question Q&As with foodie-type people – restaurant owners, chefs, bartenders, bloggers, the donut cart guy around the corner, and the like; I think I have enough contacts to shamelessly exploit that I can get to some pretty interesting people. I already have some of the questions mapped out but wanted your input (this means you too, lurkers). So:
- Is this something you’d even be interested in reading, or are you a sociopath who is oblivious to the interests and needs of others?
- If so, what would you want to know? If you bumped into Thomas Keller on the street and he had time to answer one question for you, what would you ask?**
ALSO: FIRST THURSDAY IS NEXT WEEK, PEOPLE. I could NOT have made it any easier for you, as it’s Labor Day here in the U.S. and the theme is “the grill.” Fire it up, boys and girls.
** Note: “The fuck?” does not count as a valid question. And NO, that’s not one of the questions I already have lined up.
How is this dinner, and not dessert? Not that I’m complaining, but come now, Jews. You’re pulling my leg, right?
Where did I leave off? Oh, right, with an aborted attempt at blintz casserole and my gradual descent into the gaping maw of madness. I’m back to my standard non-psychotic level of insanity, and that can only mean one thing: I can stop throwing dozens of hours of my life away watching Olympic beach volleyball in a drug-induced stupor.* Also, baked cheese.
*Although I did like how they played the cock rock in between serves, to make it seem like they were playing at a real Jersey beach circa 1991 and not a stadium in China. Can YOU take me down to paradise city? I thought not.**
**Also at a Jersey beach the matches would probably involve more brawling, which I believe the Olympic Committee frowns upon outside of events that are supposed to involve brawling, like judo and field hockey.
Cost for 2: $0.00. Score!
Meds have been increased, added, and subtracted. Tests have been taken and statuses are being monitored. Body parts have been poked and prodded. Heads have been shrunken. Feelings have been processed. Phlebotomists have become intimate with the crook of my left arm (my arm does not reciprocate).
And things are going well, very well, although I’m a little gun shy and am still knocking on wood.
Were I at home tonight, I would have made pasta primavera tossed with some bagna cauda (a pungent saute of garlic, anchovy, crushed red pepper and olive oil).
Come Thursday night, I’m back baby.
The epic battle of modern pharmacology v. my mis-wired brain continues, with my mis-wired brain making a strong comeback effort in the fourth quarter to try and defeat modern medicine’s efforts to tame it.
And so the war rages on.
Have I mentioned to y’all lately that you’re awesome? Because you seriously are.
Modern pharmacology and I are gradually clawing our way toward stability, and most of you correctly surmised that I’d be skipping my own First Thursday for August. Which I did, because it was getting hard to adjust seasoning correctly what with all the tears in the pot fucking up the salt levels. But some of you didn’t skip it, because you are supportive and wonderful and possibly also slightly crazy yourselves, and I couldn’t deprive you of the joys of roundupedness.
Here are your seasonal, colorful veggie dishes: