Slow Boat
Posted: July 16, 2004 Filed under: Uncategorized 2 Comments »I wrote a story for that contest. I don’t think it’s very good, but it has to be in England by the 23rd, so my sister says I should just send it. What have I got to lose, I guess…
I went to the doctor today about my numb extremities. She mentioned the thyroid. She set me up with a massive rash of blood tests and now we wait some more.
Sourdough bread making is my new passion. It takes a long time and appeals to my gross side. And I have a lot of time for grossness right now.
My father and stepmother arrive on Monday. Today I am off for my weekend at the Cape, at Jenya’s. It is my favorite place in the United States.
That is all. I am so, so tired. Everything is just so, so slow.
sourdough is a bit gross. D always has yogur containers sitting around the kitchen bubbling, brewing, and fermenting. It makes you careful where you put your hands.
I like the bit in Kitchen Confidenial (A. Bourdain) where he talks about the totally insane, substance-abusing guy who makes the most brilliant bread in the entire world, and how he has this massive bulk of starter and he’ll call up AB in a drug stupor, unable to come in that day, and then begs him to “feed the bitch, feed her or she’ll die” and AB has to get The Bitch out and feed it with whatever you feed it with, mix it all up, and then put it back in the cold room. Then he has to clean the kitchen and get back to his line cooks.