Hey, guys- if you dig spicy, order a bottle or two of this stuff! It’s Sukang Maanghang, Filipino-style spicy vinegar, and it’s addictive, wonderfully sour HEAT. A fellow designerly coworker makes it, and is taking orders now! It goes on my eggs and with my salad most often, and can go on pretty much anything you deem worthy. Tonight, I made this mondo-rific turkey burger- doused the greens and mixed the stuff in with some mayo as well. I’ve refilled mine enough that it’s time to order another. Here’s the link to get some too, if you’d like:
When your coffee’s lookin’ back at you. Ordered a Mayan mocha with chipotle and cayenne from a little haunt of a coffee shop, Burial Grounds, down in Olympia. They ask how spicy you’d like it, and the highest number was no joke. Burning lips and a slight cough just a few sips in. Hurt so good, I’d order it again! ♦
I love a Crock-Pot day.
Sure, it’s not as fancy schmancy as the spicy herbed butternut squash I made for a side at Christmas (one of many), but if walls had nostrils, mine would clap. And clapping nostrils, well, that’s pretty spectacular. An animated gif justing waiting to happen!
Have the likes of this jolly pile to house away with Around the World In 80 Days as company. First up though, pine needle patrol. Break out the Hoover, er, Dyson. Watching an old Christmas tree bounce off the pavement from the balcony above was strangely enjoyable this morning. I usually prefer my trees upright and well rooted. Anomalies can be good though, like this screenshot of my Pinterest feed, how it chose to populate itself recently. Not particularly useful, but oh so patternrific!
The reward for all the hustle ’n’ bustle will be a trip to see Big Eyes later on, looking forward! I shan’t blink but once. ♦
Those crispety crunchy kernels were meant to be spicy caramel bacon popcorn (just the ticket, yes?) for a family BBQ this past weekend. My thought process went as follows: Spicy, what’s better than spicy? Why, MORE Spicy. Sadly, heavy-handed heat did nothing but to entirely and completely mask any and all sweetness to be had from the caramel (six cups of sugar muted and even the bacon in all its boldness might as well’ve stayed home.) And actually, it did stay, as I was bummed that I’d botched the batch, and was none too keen on sharing it. Though now that I rethink it, this stuff could’ve made for an excellent squirrel deterrent in keeping the rascally rodents far from my dad’s bird feeders. Once at the BBQ, all was blue sky and sunshine, a day-on-into-the-night that was good for my soul. ♦
You know it’s good when your lips are burning. ♦ #GinosWickedPrawns
Made a brief stop in the bathroom stall of a local Mexican restaurant some time back only to find I was being watched. (Recall the once-blogged-of fork find? Yep, the very one!) Couldn’t take my eyes from the face ingrained in the faux wood laminate paneling on the door.
Yes, my dad’s fairly fixated on that particular restaurant at the moment. It began just after the overhaul to his diet in the quest for optimal health last February. By mid-March, he raved regularly over their tortilla soup, a dish he’d once found “too”. Too spicy! St. Patrick’s Day rolled around along with an invitation to accompany him to dinner for the holiday’s traditional fare. Tortilla soup? He frequents their establishment a little more than frequently these days. A recent dinner there, found the entire staff stopping by our table off and on throughout the meal, my dad greeting each by name, and they in return. Love that! It speaks to the sense of community I wish to reside in now and always. Inside jokes and bits of prior conversation ensued and it was more than good to get a glimpse of the spell he casts when foregoing his hermit-like ways.
• One greets him with “welcome home!” each and every.
• Another brings “the usual” without asking.
• With Thanksgiving and Christmas, came sincere invites to join yet another’s family for the holidays.
And, at last, he understands the joy of spicy food.
And, at last, he understands the joy of spicy food. A cohort! (Insert “ode” here.) Months and months ago, he’d be found inevitably hacking away at some point during the meal, the heat found in the broth having built to a point where it’d catch him up. Now he constantly says, “It’s just not as hot as it once was, it needs more heat,” to which I continually respond with something to the affect of, “It’s one of two things: the cooks’ve learned already, having long since tired of your hacksome displays and now forego the addition of any and all heated elements. Or, you’ve acclimated. Congrats!” In a semi-related item, I want THIS! I swear, that little deviled monkey winked at me as I walked by at the grocery store a few days back.
Other found faces? Try this one. A little “yikes,” right? That poster creepeth me more than a little out. Bean once displayed it on her closet door in order to take advantage of this very fact. Le yelp! Adore the beloved Lecter, a perfect man, he is, more or less- wry and witty, cultured and culinary, perceptive and analytical, calm and collected, thorough and impassioned, those drawings- extraordinaire!- and an obsessive fixation for one woman like no other. Problem: serial killer? No. Fictional. That’s one staring contest (the only), I’ll not be winning any time soon.
Lame scare of the week, a face lurking at the bottom of the coffee cup. My cup. My face! Jumped even. Jiminy. Suppose you’d jump, too, though, were you to find my face at the bottom of your coffee cup, yes?
Gifts bestowed from Bean and Shane’s recent travels included this here looking glass. Ha. Looking … glass …
Through all of October and much of November, the following face could be viewed just across the way. Existing purely of a tassled curtain and the blinds which twisted themselves in such an odd way as to produce, well, that, at some point, curiosity found me enquiring of others, did they see what I saw? Affirmation came quickly in Shane’s response, “You mean that insane scary-ass death skull cackling in the window?”
Lastly, was entirely egg faced a while back now. Huevos rancheroed! Sitting at a 3-way stop on a 2-lane road, I pulled up to the line as the car to my right drove straight on through. My turn! Began to accelerate and instead tromped on the brakes as the next car on the right appeared to piggy-back on the tail of the first guy, but was instead turning left. Into me! Nearly. I squinted my death ray vision in his general direction and the choice word of “Assssho-“ began its escape from my mouth in finding my turn so rudely skipped when I suddenly realized, hey, I know that guy. Johnny! The way-friendly, super awesome dude who sells me far too many movie tickets. We often talk it up, exchanging opinions and recommendations. I then see that there’s an entirely separate turning lane making his assumed piggy-back really just a slow-to-start perfectly rightful turn on his part leaving me the one in the wrong. Bad enough it was, wronging someone, but then to actually know the person that I was delivering such a term of disaffection to on top of it. Headed to the movies the very next day in need of apologizing pronto. He wasn’t there. In fact, for one seen so regularly, over three months passed before another encounter occurred. Upon the occurrence, noticed Johnny’s so-nice longish hair was all buzzed off. When commented on, he mentioned that he makes a habit of growing it out and chopping it off for charity. Meanie, miney, me!
Lesson learned: see beyond all the hunks-a-metal on wheels out there on the road to the people inside, the faces, remembering there’s always a heart n’ soul in there, no matter the offense given, whether it be merely perceived or the real deal. ♦
Last night I sat at the window on a stool at my favorite coffee shop, Bauhaus Books & Coffee, looking out to what could be seen of the skyline, mostly the Space Needle, as the rain came down in true Seattle fashion. Always wanna be one of those people sitting in the window looking out at the passersby, and it was finally time, as I’m upstairs most often. I was awash in pink and plum. I like to arrive having made it a point to wear something colorful as that place is often filled with moody glass-half-empty boys donning head-to-toe black. Nevermind that nearly half my wardrobe is black as well. It’s good to defy their status quo and win an occasional smile from the predominantly glum in heart.
I have the drive, the desire, the fortitude, the dogged determination
This week, I managed to reread through all my prior posts. Just over two years of them. Looking at the dates, it seems that I posted twice a week at times, and if not, at least twice a month, for the first year. How’d I manage THAT?! In taking stock, I see just how very much I’ve allowed myself to become side-tracked here and side-tracked there and generally cowered into a corner, like a big yellow chicken, instead of having completed the necessary tasks at hand already to get to where I wanna be. With every day that passes I check something off the list towards my greater goals, it just feels like I’m moving underwater as I go! How can I be so fearless and strong (says I) in some areas and in others, the ones that seem to matter most, be the complete opposite? I’m just gonna act my way outta this. Act as if I have the confidence to get up and over, which I totally do, I know full well what I can do and what I have to give, and I’m bursting to do so, but my fear lies in presenting it all, literally laying it all out on the table, only to be told, no. We don’t want you. We can’t use you. To not be allowed a place to plug in would near kill me. My comfort lies in telling myself I only need one “yes.” Just one. I suppose it’s very much like finding someone to love and be loved in return by, and I generally have no fear in that department, trusting that it’s all working itself out as it should in its own time. Another plus, I have the drive, the desire, the fortitude, the dogged determination, if I could just stop getting lost in myself along the way. Does that make sense? Let’s say, I’ve got potential. By chance I DO get lost in myself again and you witness no signs of victorious proof of progress, would you just slap me really, really, hard?
That brings me to the banana peel on my car windshield. Sat down only to look up and- voila! A really large brownish-yellow leaf kinda startled me in its size and peculiar shape splayed out on the glass. Le peel de banana! I envisioned some disgruntled morning commuter flinging it out in a moment’s frustration on the way to their bread and butter.
Saw Across the Universe, finally! You know, that movie of the musical variety, set in the 60’s to the tune of many a covered Beatles song. I was mildly disappointed, though, the cameos by Joe Cocker and Bono along with the scene including the making of messy, messy art involving strawberries (my current favorite fruit, if not food, even!) made it worth it.
Alcoves containing secluded booths draped in rich, deep burgundy
Lastly, devastatingly good Thai food! The night before last. Dinner with friends. New restaurant! Only problem? I love, love, love spicy food! It really kicked in somewhere around age 23ish and now comes in these fits of NEED. The friends were only up for 2 stars, though, as it was family-style dining, when I really wanted to give 5 stars a shot. Had 4 before and was approaching that happy pain mode. Curries! I’ve tried and tried to like them to no avail. Triumph, at last! Delicisioso! And the green beans, H-E-A-V-E-N. How I can despise canned green beans and have a mild love affair with those freshly prepped ones is a marvel. Sooooo, yuuuuummy. The atmosphere. Alcoves containing secluded booths draped in rich, deep burgundy and aubergine fabrics and lit with warm, glowing, glass sconces in jeweled colors. Multi-colored tiling in citron greens and pumpkin orange along the walls and deep mahogany woods for the tables and flooring. Candles galore. Quality chopsticks (I have a collection!), I so appreciate when others understand the importance of details! It can make a place. And an experience. ♦