Wednesday, October 28, 2009

It's Decorative Gourd Season!

The following writing is by Colin Nissan, and is orginally located here.

I had to post this because it made me laugh so hard. Harder than I think I've ever laughed about something written. My pleasure was doubled when I read it out loud to my Australian husband who just... didn't get it but all the same thought it was funny that it was so funny to me.



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I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I'm about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it's gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is—fucking fall. There's a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant fucking squash.

I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I'm going to get to work on making a beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like, "Aren't those gourds straining your neck?" And I'm just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and quietly reply, "It's fall, fuckfaces. You're either ready to reap this freaky-assed harvest or you're not."

Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does? Performing a all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Different Strokes—specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn't it? Felonies and gourds have one very important commonality: they're both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that's upsetting, but I'm not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.

The next thing I'm going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I'm going to do lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it's not summer, it's not winter, and it's not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it's fall, fuckers.

Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you're going to fucking love my house. Just look where you're walking or you'll get KO'd by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you're going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh coming from me. Consider yourself warned.

For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to summer.

Welcome to autumn, fuckheads!

Monday, October 12, 2009

Vegemite, Marmite, and Vegemite Cheesybite

I love them all.

I fell in love with Marmite in 2004 when I studied in England for a year. I tend to get really excited about foods that I know a large portion of the population hates the taste of. So of course, I went and got some marmite and it was love. So much so that I would occasion to wander around my boyfriend's English university asking his house mates if they wanted to have some marmite toast with me. Surprisingly, the answer was usually no, with the excuse that they didn't actually like marmite! (Thus demonstrating the love or hate drama with the product in the U.K.)

This relationship is not rivaled in Australia, with most Australians actually liking Vegemite. At least most that I have met save one investment banker who spoke of his detest while his colleagues made toast with Vegemite on top every morning in the office. So much Vegemite toast that I, as the mail room clerk and general office minion, had to go pick up 4-5 loaves of bread each morning for the month that I worked there. (Rest assured that if you do your investment banking through Macquarie that your money is being handled by well-fed and well-dressed men and women who shall never lack for a cookie or a bite of toast.)

My love of marmite was once extended to the point that I made a marmite recipe. Marmite pasta to be precise. With a simple, yet flavorsome sauce of only butter and marmite. Hey, I was a college student, and it beats Ramen. Plus, it's more worldly.

This photo was taken while I was having my wedding makeup done. Our photographer found one of the 10 jars of Vegemite my husband brought with us to Hawaii to share with our American guests, and decided it would make a nice photo. Surprisingly, none of our guests would even taste the Vegemite due to it's smell. Fortunately the rations were used up by the Australian guests who had neglected to bring their own supply, and took delight when they learned of our stash. Tim Tams (which I detest!) were much more popular with our American guests.

Regarding the latest edition of the yeasty extract family, Vegemite Cheesybite (as newly christened): this stuff is delicious! It's actually reawakened my yeast extract desires. (Is that a weird sentence?) I can really give or take Vegemite, but this 2.0 version I crave. It's creamier, cheesier, more like Marmite, and a bit less harsh than the original.

And yes, I have considered the fact that I may have a B vitamin or folate deficiency, but I'm cool with that.

Monday, October 5, 2009

What I did on the long weekend....

1) Relaxed, saw Mao's Last Dancer
2) 3 homework assignments for my makeup course including a 15 page cosmetic chemistry research assignment and 20+ slide powerpoint presentation.
3) Lamented that Rundle Mall wasn't open on Labour day for shopping purposes.
4) Baked!

First was a rhubarb and strawberry tart of my own design, on a sour dough (store-bought) crust, accompanied by mascarpone cheese mixed with powdered sugar and lemon peel. I'd never had rhubarb before but it looked delicious, and indeed it was. Nice and tart but cut by the sweet creamy cheese.

Then it was an eggplant, parmesan, and ricotta bake. The filling had eggs and basil as well. It was sort of like an eggplant lasagna quiche.

Doing one of the eggplant layers...