I was feeling pretty damn good and had a little extra cash, so I decided to make breakfast for Ben. I've recently made crepes, I could do pancakes, omlettes, biscuits, muffins or even a parfait. But I wanted something new, and relatively simple. In comes the idea of fruit, but I wanted to make it a little special.
I know Ben has a taste for bourbon, and I was in the mood for peaches, so I went with it. There's quite a few recipes for this and similar dishes, but I think you should just use them as a guide and kinda make it up as you go.
The thing that really brings it all together though is fresh whipped cream, which is something my Dad showed me how to do. It's so amazingly easy, an it really adds a nice touch to whatever you cook up. All you need is heavy whipping cream, some sugar, and I like to add either lime juice or even orange juice for a little bit of tanginess. Pour the cream into a bowl and mix on high with a handmixer (do not be ambitious and use a whisk, you'll be there forever). It takes about 3 minutes or so, but you'll start to see the cream thicken up somewhere around two. When you decide to stop mixing is really up to you, you can have more of a smooth cream or keep on mixing for fluffier cream. Either way, at 3 minutes you need to add your sugar, again this is personal taste, and anything else you would like. And that's it.
For my peaches, I made a syrup to soak them in as I made the cream. Basically I mixed sugar, bourbon and a teeny tiny bit of melted butter, I did a very rough estimate, but for the bourbon, a little goes a long way-I used almost a shot and it worked out pretty well for the 3 peaches I had.
Once I cut up my peaches into nice thick slices, I layed them in a saucepan along with the bourbon syrup and simmered them on low heat for about 10 min, mixing them around once or twice. Obviously, the longer you keep them in the pan, the more bourbon you're going to taste in them, so its all personal taste. Many recipes I came across advised soaking the peaches in the syrup in the fridge for at least half an hour, but I'm not that proactive about cooking and I also prefer warmer fruit when paired with cream. either method will work, mine was more of a quick fix, but you could get a more concentrated bourbon taste by soaking in the fridge.
Once I was happy with the peaches, I spooned them into little bowls and topped them with cream and sprinkled walnuts on top and then that was that. Even though this meal was super easy, I still felt pretty good about it and will be experimenting with other fruits and sauces.
Got Milk?
So my boyfriend has brought it to my attention that in Europe it is en vogue to eat ice cream (wait for it...), made of human breast milk. Yes, breast milk, because nobody cares about hungry babies. Not even this furry pink one:
Moving on to things we actually care about, ahem, when he brought this to my attention I just had to find out a little more. Mostly I wanted to know where the milk came from, I KNOW where it comes from (thanks, Miracle of Life: The Movie!) I just wanted to know from whom.
Apparently any chick can donate the white stuff, for example, at this creamery (it's like I don't even have to try) in London they just put up an ad on a website asking for breast milk. Questionable ad aside, what kind of person (mother in this case) answers to that kind of ad? A stand-up-kind-of-a-girl named Hiley, thats who. Hiley works to promote breastfeeding in the U.K. and was quoted as saying, "what's the harm in using my assets for a little cash?". You can't fight that logic, apparently:
For those of you worried about the diseases and bacteria that can be exchanged through any bodily liquid, the breast milk is pasteurized, just like cow's milk.
The proponets of this dessert tell thier customers to not think of it as 'gross' or a 'biohazard' but to think of it as organic free-range milk. From women. Women with newborn babies.You can't say it's not profitable, though, a scoop of this delicacy will set you back almost $25, depending on where you go. The flavor? "Baby Gaga", of course. Do you love the idea of Madagascan vanilla beans, lemon zest and a starving baby's cry? Well you don't have to hop on the next trans-atlantic flight to get your fix, breast milk ice cream is currently available at Whole Foods Market and will be offered at Walmart, Costco and Kruger this month.
Personally, I don't think I want to try it. It just freaks me out, that I'm drinking milk from another woman, but apparently this is a hit with everyone in the old world, everyone except Lady Gaga.
Got the itchies?
My little brother used to spend the first fifteen minutes of his day itching all over, and when we would impatiently tell him to get ready for school already he would whine, "but MO-OOM, I have the ITCHIES!" and everytime I think of it I think of bugs. So during a meaningful conversation with my significant other, we were talking about how much we hate bugs. As if, together, we are a super bug-hating machine. But then I realized two things:
1. NO ONE really likes bugs.
2. I must be the most boring girlfriend to talk to
Then I remembered my summer in eastern Tennessee for an internship and how it was Danielle vs. Wild every single day in my humble abode. If you've never been to Tennessee before, let me tell you, it's not called 'Tennessee rain' for nothing, it's so humid all the time and it rains almost weekly. Bugs love moist places. That being said, throughout my stay I realised I had never really seen bugs until I went to Tennessee. Note that these are in ascending order of hate:
Mosquitos
These things are everywhere and I've run into them before, I just never knew these guys could attack in numbers. They also love drinking and carry a lot of diseases, which, in addition to the first two things, make them the sorority girls of the insect world, only better looking. One or two bites aren't too bad, but four or six is just awful. Have you ever sat in on a meeting and tried fighting the urge to scratch both of your knees furiously?
The Wolf-Spider and her Babies
Imagine sitting down to your $1.99 pomegranate-cranberry oatmeal, and while you're eating, you glance at your newly painted toes, and then see THIS not four inches away from your foot. I did not eat all day after that morning and wore my work shoes (heavy duty steel-toe shoes) around the house the rest of the day, which actually was almost a workout, I think I might be unto something.But back to the spider. She had all her nasty little kids on her back so I automatically got my tennis shoes and crushed her. And then again. and AGAIN. She finally stopped twitching and I felt a grim satisfaction. Until, I realised, some babies had survived. they began to scuttle across my linoleum really fast in all directions. I then started to jump around and squish them one by one, because I knew that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and it was only a matter of time before these tiny beasts would drop THIER load of children on me next. After I was done killing, I stood up, panting, and looked at the floor. It was the most grotesque-looking confetti I had ever seen, little spots of spider parts all over the place. I quietly sweeped them up and chunked them into the garbage half a block away. Problem solved.
The Brown Recluse
When I was first moving in, you know, knocking around cabinets and moving my dishes around, I came face to face with my first brown recluse. They might not seem scary because of thier size, but believe me, they are. They also run pretty fast, they won't chase you or anything, but they really hate people and light so they haul ass to the nearest closet (much like our LARP-ing bretheren).The only reason I don't hate these more is that they won't bite unless you really piss them off or they think you might accidently squish them. But if they do..... you're screwed. Just kidding. sort of. If you don't get medical attention within 48 hours, then yes, you are screwed. After hours of research, I then created a ritual where I would shake all of my fabrics and shoes before putting them against my body. Looking back, I'm glad I didn't have a lot of house guests, because a lot of people aren't experts on brown-recluse-attack-prevention like I am and would've thought I was a freak for beating my couch pillows and shaking out my bedsheets all the time.
The Gejigeji
Just look at that abomination for a second. Sure, they're not intristicaly poisonous, but they're still as scary as hell. These are native to Japan and can get pretty big. The one I 'found' was about 4 and half inches long. They're not poisonous to humans and not really aggressive, but the one I met was definitely was a jerk. I was watching that movie Dear John at my apartment (as it turns out, the Redbox at our one Walgreens didn't have a great selection) and at one point I had to go to the bathroom. So I walked to the little 1/2 bathroom in my living room, and for whatever reason, I got the urge to look to my right, directly at the wall. And there it was, moving every one of his legs seperately at almost eye level to me. You have no idea how scared I was, because this thing actually looks WORSE in the faint blue light of a bad movie. I hit myself so hard in the elbow against the opposite wall that I was stunned for a second, and this is when I learned that these bugs jump. Yes, jump. He jumped unto the carpet and I did a weird leaping-crawling thing to get away. I ran upstairs and got my steel toe boots (not- messing-around-boots) I creeped my way down the stairs, careful to not make noise, because I knew it was there. Waiting. It took several times, but I finally crushed him; he was so big I could hear the crunching as I killed it. So big, I felt like I was making an offering to a twisted Orkin-god or something. After that fiasco, Dear John didn't seem that bad at all.
The Hell-Cave Spiders
One time I went to the mall in Chattanooga and was talking to the cashier at Dillards(?) and ended up giving him my number because he said he could show me around the city. Other than the fact I cannot grasp the idea of 'picking up' (he later took me out to dinner), I gave it to him because I told him I wanted to do all the outdoorsy things you can do in backwoods Tennessee; He said he knew of a police chief that regularly went rockclimbing, caving and rafting.
So 'Chief ' eventually got into contact with me and he invited me to go caving with his son and his girlfriend, I said yes and before I knew it I was in a wetsuit and had safety straps going all over my body and an inescapable fear that this would be the last thing I ever wore. I was then lowered into this narrow, dark and slimy cave. I felt the ground and tugged on the rope to let them know I was down. I watched the rope get pulled back up to the surface and then decided to see exactly where I was. I adjusted my little flash-light hat and turned around.
The cave became a tunnel-esque hole a few feet in front of me, so I crouched down and my gaze froze when I saw dozens of these giant grasshopper-daddy-longlegs-bugs(the first picture) along the rock walls. The light agitated them and they started crawling around just as Chief straightened out next to me and says, "My wife really hates those cave-spiders". I just gaped at him and tried to think of an excuse to bail me out of this when he said, "These aren't that bad, wait until you see the whip spiders". People, this is a whip spider:
These bastards are also pretty big, almost the size of my hand (thier legs extended). I also do not know what those claws in front are for, and never ever want to know. I did not get that close to one (I wouldnt even know, it was so dark) but the entire time I kept my hands and close to my body as possible, as I already was hated in the bug world. I hate these the most because not only do they live in dark, cold places, they also love to hang around the ceiling.
Our adventure ended when we found a pool inside the cave, complete with a waterfall, and swam for a bit. Then we went back the same way. Back down the cave water streams, over crevices and through chest deep pools with 'surprise' holes in them. Caving is NOT easy at all and I instantly regretted not telling anyone where I was the moment I was roped in. What they don't tell you until the end is that getting back out is the worst part of the whole ordeal, you have to find footholds and then slide your harness up. Its much easier said than done, especially when you have short legs like I do. I kept slipping from my footholds and would swing violently in the dark empty air. Eventually I got out and drove straight home, and never again complained about boring weekends at my apartment.
Dramatic Beyblade Auction
I haven't posted in a while, but I found this story and found it mildly interesting, it's about some mom who posted a picture of her crying kids on Ebay. Why Ebay? Because she was selling off their favorite toys.
Apparently these kids had a collection of Beyblades, these toys like are bascially like tops, and they were using a bathtub in thier house as a arena for them. An image search on Bing gave me this:
So this mom freaked out when she realised that they had damaged the bathtub, breaking off the soap dish, scraping the enamel and even knocking a piece of the tub out. I have to say, I think these children just might be the beyblade kings, as I'm not sure how they managed to break off a "chunk" out of the tub. ANYWAYS, she "solves" the problem by posting a listing on ebay for their beyblades to pay for the repairs. Here's the actual description:
"We are selling 8 Beyblades, 2 of them light up. As you can tell they are not happy about this! They have been using their bathtub as a 'battle arena' and Beyblades+Bathtub = Destruction!!!! With the metal ones they have managed to scrape the enamel off of the tub, take a chunk of tub out and break off the soap holder. SO if you'win' this auction, DON'T play with in a bathtub!!!! We have received a quote of $500.00 to replace the tub, some tile and soap holder + labor of course! They had approximately $125.67 in their piggy banks that will be going to toward the cost. We will use the profit from this auction towards the balance and then it is onto other toys! Good Luck bidding!!! Paypal only"
And of course, the actual picture itself:
Maybe I'm a softie, but I think this lady needs to get a grip. Obviously, she buys a lot of expensive toys for her kids so she doesn't have to watch them much and then cries foul when they do things kids always have and will always do: destroy things. I think it definitely sets the stage for kids to think "this is how you deal with problems" instead of direct communication and compromise. This is the kind of thing you have little "family meetings" about, not publicly humilating them like this. In that facebook movie, that ex-gf of Zuckerburg remarked that when 'you post something online, it's written in ink, not pencil' and a lot of memes have been made, including one made to have the bag filled with sex toys, which I don't think I can post here, but heres a couple:
Good job, mom.
Apparently these kids had a collection of Beyblades, these toys like are bascially like tops, and they were using a bathtub in thier house as a arena for them. An image search on Bing gave me this:
So this mom freaked out when she realised that they had damaged the bathtub, breaking off the soap dish, scraping the enamel and even knocking a piece of the tub out. I have to say, I think these children just might be the beyblade kings, as I'm not sure how they managed to break off a "chunk" out of the tub. ANYWAYS, she "solves" the problem by posting a listing on ebay for their beyblades to pay for the repairs. Here's the actual description:
"We are selling 8 Beyblades, 2 of them light up. As you can tell they are not happy about this! They have been using their bathtub as a 'battle arena' and Beyblades+Bathtub = Destruction!!!! With the metal ones they have managed to scrape the enamel off of the tub, take a chunk of tub out and break off the soap holder. SO if you'win' this auction, DON'T play with in a bathtub!!!! We have received a quote of $500.00 to replace the tub, some tile and soap holder + labor of course! They had approximately $125.67 in their piggy banks that will be going to toward the cost. We will use the profit from this auction towards the balance and then it is onto other toys! Good Luck bidding!!! Paypal only"
And of course, the actual picture itself:
Maybe I'm a softie, but I think this lady needs to get a grip. Obviously, she buys a lot of expensive toys for her kids so she doesn't have to watch them much and then cries foul when they do things kids always have and will always do: destroy things. I think it definitely sets the stage for kids to think "this is how you deal with problems" instead of direct communication and compromise. This is the kind of thing you have little "family meetings" about, not publicly humilating them like this. In that facebook movie, that ex-gf of Zuckerburg remarked that when 'you post something online, it's written in ink, not pencil' and a lot of memes have been made, including one made to have the bag filled with sex toys, which I don't think I can post here, but heres a couple:
Good job, mom.Inside Gaddafi's Closet
Right now, there's a lot of talk going on about the protests and civil uprisings in Libya and how the President, Muammar Gaddafi is "controlling" the situation. I'm using control in the loosest of terms possible, because what he's really doing is imposing a really messed up form of martial law. In his case, bascially his troops are under orders to shoot protestors. Unfortunately, really no one likes him in Libya (or anywhere else, for that matter) and we're all holding our breath to see what he does when he realizes he cannot commit mass murder of his country.Aside from that I just wanted to comment on Gaddafi's all-female personal guard.I mentioned before that Gaddafi is relying on his army right now to take care of the protestors, but I really need to stress that this guy really, REALLY depends on his armed forces like crazy. His personal guard is made of entirely of young women, as per special request by Mr. Presidente.
The strange part? They all have to be virgins. Once it's confirmed they are virgins, they go through extensive and extreme training in martial arts, firearms and combat. When they pass these, which only a few will, Gaddafi hand picks a few and they are officially a part of his guard, for life. The life part is true, they swear to stay by his side forever, they literally do not leave him day or night. He also claims they are still virgins, but there is always talk of him demanding sexual favors of them. These soldiers have a single goal- not to protect the country (have you not gotten a feel for this guy yet?!) but to protect Gaddafi at all costs, including their own lives and the lives of ordinary citizens. Another interesting fact is the women have to wear make-up, style their hair and wear nail polish at all times and their uniforms sometimes consist of heels.
To really put in perspective how dedicated to the job these guards are, one woman took a bullet for him during a assasination attempt and did in fact, die. She was rumored to be Gaddafi's "favorite" guard and he went on to name his daughter after her.
The strange part? They all have to be virgins. Once it's confirmed they are virgins, they go through extensive and extreme training in martial arts, firearms and combat. When they pass these, which only a few will, Gaddafi hand picks a few and they are officially a part of his guard, for life. The life part is true, they swear to stay by his side forever, they literally do not leave him day or night. He also claims they are still virgins, but there is always talk of him demanding sexual favors of them. These soldiers have a single goal- not to protect the country (have you not gotten a feel for this guy yet?!) but to protect Gaddafi at all costs, including their own lives and the lives of ordinary citizens. Another interesting fact is the women have to wear make-up, style their hair and wear nail polish at all times and their uniforms sometimes consist of heels.
To really put in perspective how dedicated to the job these guards are, one woman took a bullet for him during a assasination attempt and did in fact, die. She was rumored to be Gaddafi's "favorite" guard and he went on to name his daughter after her.
Coupledom on Steroids
Ready or not, Valentine's Day is only a week away and soon you'll see enamored couples littering the streets like glitter in a strip club. People tell you that it's not a real holiday and that it's just another corporate sell-out birthed here in the USA, but what they won't tell you is that they're single, lonely and miserable and most likely won't get anything but a macaroni picture from thier little sister. Your best bet is to just join in on the lust-tivities and enjoy this round-up of old Valentine's day traditions from around the world:
France: This one was one of the most interesting, here it was custom for persons to literally walk into the homes directly across them and claim a lover for the day. It gets even better, If they see the inhabitants are unfit to their tastes, they would leave and just go to another house until they found a worthy Valentine. Inevitably, there would be some genetically inferior women (and men) who were left valentine-less and would proceed to make a bonfire where they throw in and curse at pictures and/or belongings of men who scorned them. Angsty women(and men) of yore definitely didn't screw around in acting out OR arson.
Japan: Because they always have to be the black sheep, women of Japan are actually the ones who buy gifts for their lovers. But don't worry, even if they don't love you (or even like you) they will give "giri-choco" out of sheer obligation. "Giri Choco" literally means obligatory chocolates, so I totally wasn't kidding about the required part. Thanks to Confucianism (?) the Japanese hate accepting gifts because they feel obligated to give a gift in return and/or feel embarrased for getting one in the first place, as in, they don't want you to think they need your stupid candies. So, one can be confused as to whether it's even a good thing to get chocolates in the first place, whether by martial law ("giri chocolate") or because you're loved. As it turns out, it doesn't really matter, because exactly one month from Valentine's day, on March 14th, on what they call "White Day" the men who received chocolate are supposed to give even pricier chocolate to the women who gave THEM chocolate. I can't help but wonder if this would result in a never-ending circle of unwanted obligation and forced gift-giving.
Russia: They didn't even fully recognize our fluffy holiday up until recently. School kids may have given each other cards, but it was frowned upon in the Orthodox country. And you thought you had it rough, getting only three valentines in your box in grade school.
Ireland: A little offbeat, but still charming. In the Emerald Isle, the traditional gift is a bouquet of flowers, however if you really want to woo a girl, you'll make her chocolates and cookies, and if she loves you back, she'll present you with pink-colored food like pink bread, red cake, and pink mashed potatoes; you'll be ingesting a lot of red lake #44 (bugs). Otherwise, it's just another day to celebrate just for the hell of it.
Italy: I found these to be the most heartfelt, probably because Valentine's Day is named after a St. Valentine, who was martyred ('killed for others' benefit' for those of you too lazy to google that) so that men and women could marry whomever they wanted, in a big "fuck you" fashion to betrothed marriages. Depending on where you are in Italy, you'll find a bunch of shops selling traditional Italian gifts like chocolate, perfume, satin pillows, cheeses and wines; what makes these stalls interesting is that they are arranged to make a giant heart. Or you can participate in love letter or poetry competitons and coctktail making. They also have this cute thing where you write your name and your significant other's on a paper heart and attach it to a fishing net hung from buildings on the harbor. The catch is that whichever hearts are left tied to the net after all the wind, rain and bitter singles(probably) have had at the pieces of paper, those are the relationships that will last forever.
Mexico: Flowers are king here, the all-time best gift everyone wants is arranged flowers. The gifts aren't really what shines here, it's the dances, festivals and even balls that take place. Traditionally, men would have a mariachi band sing beneath the window of a woman he loved. School children might also write love notes and tie them to balloons and then just let them go (they didn't really think that one through, did they?). I've never been to Mexico on Valentine's Day, but this is what the internet told me happens there. I am Mexican and the family parties I've been to have over-dressed relatives with more alcohol (tecate or budlight) than there are children (this IS an accomplishment) and brisket is the food of choice. Maybe it's just mine.
Australia: It didn't seem much different from American Valentine's day but it did say they like to give "bandaged bears" to children and that popular gifts are tickets for canoeing, helicopter rides and skydiving. Because if there's no chance of you dying, than it's just not love.
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