Saturday, October 25, 2008

the fat little weirdoes epilogue

okay...i've decided to get my life together in earnest.  so, even though i started the day with one of those breakfast sammies from carousel bakery in st. lawrence market (peameal, egg, american cheese, soft squishy kaiser), i also went to yoga class, and now i'm headed off to meet dr. rei to go to this vintage/estate sale thing and then we're going to do a rainy saturday walkabout on queen east and gawk at expensive mid-century modern furniture and gentrificaton.  i think maybe hanbo might join us too!  

i'm shopping for a little black 20sish, 50sish cocktail hat with a veil that i can use as part of my performance ensemble.  trying to find a performance venue in toronto that's halfway decent is like, impossible.  there's no where cute and fun and low key...there's like 10 different spots that everyone uses downtown and the rest are all banquet halls and stuff.  it just goes to show you what a lame-ass third rate city toronto is.  you can't even get hitched in a PUBLIC PARK without all these restrictions.  laaaame!!!  and u of t is a total fascist.  you can't do just the ceremony on a saturday, you can only do that on a friday or sunday and even then, you need to guarantee a minimum of 150 peeps.  it's like, what business is it of YOURS how many peeps we have?  

anyway, so i'm going to be doing a lot of walking today...and i've promised myself that i'm also going to do my crunches and half-assed tricep dips and push ups.  that plus yoga plus walking seems like a decent amount of physical exertion for a saturday.  

tonight for dinner i'm making a recipe from suzanne goin's "sunday suppers at lucques." goin is a chef after my own heart.  according to my friends A&C who read this book recently about cooks (i think it was "stanley park"), the author divides cooks between bloods and crips.  apparently, i'm a blood.  here's the definitions i was provided:

"blood cooks were respectful of tradition, nostalgic even...linked to 'local' by the inheritance of adoption of a culture, linked to a particular manner and place of being." 

Crip cooks, "were post-national. They called themselves artists. They tended to stack things like mahi mahi and grilled eggplant in wobbly towers glued together with wasabi mayonnaise, and were frequently suspicious of butter."

that's a little too dichotomous and a trifle dated for my liking, but since i like the bloods gang-sign better and that's the one i can do, it's sufficiently accurate to suit my purposes.

anyway, i love suzanne goin and really respect her as a cook.  i love the book too, but i hate the's organized by menu, by season.  i can handle by season, but i prefer stuff to be organized by course so that i can assemble my own menus.  at any rate, i'm making her "deviled chicken thighs with braised leeks" with a LOT of streamlining.  for one thing, i'm not marinating my chicken legs (drums and thighs) for 24 hours before-hand...i'm kind of inherently suspicious of marinades penetrating the meat, and in this case, the chicken is heavily browned, doused in a dijon mustard-shallot mixture, and then coated with browned butter thyme breadcrumbs (i'm omitting the brown butter) and baked on a bed of braised leeks.  i don't think the marinade flavour will be missed.  i'm serving this on egg noodles with a baked parmesan squash gratin.

for dessert, we're carrying on the autumnal theme with an apple tarte tatin in an oatmeal crust with vanilla ice cream and movies and knitting in front of the soothing glow of le television.


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