Foodies

In an effort to put more content on this blog, I've decided to start cross posting. Hence, you'll be able to find this review on my Goodreads page too.

I just finished tearing through "Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen," by Julie Powell. It was a raucous read and very enjoyable for someone who loves experimenting in the kitchen and just recently started to rebound from her own prolonged self-pity party.

I realized, after reading it, that I've been on a bit of a "schtick" kick with my non-fiction reads lately. It started with "A Year of Living Biblically" and continued onto "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle." (I suppose "Eat, Pray, Love" was in somewhat the same vein as well.) Julie/Julia is also a gimmick, the deal is this woman who was on the eve of her 30th birthday, working in a depressing job, decided to take on a project to cook her way through the entire oeuvre of Volume I of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" or as she calls it "MtAoFC." In so doing, she transformed her life and got this book deal after her blog about the project got super popular. (Not to worry any dear readers, I have no such aspirations!)

What I did get from this book though was a good report on kitchen adventures, a candid look at self-absorption and hilarity, and the story of how great friendships withstand low times and grow only stronger. It was great... it also caused me to make crepes at around 10:30 PM last night. Then I had crepes for dessert while watching "35 Up" last night, crepes for breakfast this morning (sort of blintz style with IKEA lingonberry jam and yogurt), and because my craving was (apparently) insatiable, two crepes for dinner tonight at Ti Couz - savory and sweet. I better cut back on the crepe intake tomorrow or you'll be able to roll me down the street just like I plan to roll up another crepe for breakfast manana.

In other news... I repotted some plants today. I ruined my favorite black cardigan by vigorously cleaning my bathroom. The super-heavy duty scary shower cleaner necessitated opening the window and turning on the fan so as to avoid killing too many brain cells or passing out due to the fumes. It was freezing cold in the bathroom as a result so I kept the cardi on and bleached the right sleeve completely. The elbow is now an unattractive neon coral color. It looks sort of like hypercolor gone terribly wrong.

This morning I threw a minor fit at Radio Shack when the aggravating sales associate refused to process the headset I bought to use while Skyping for a return, because he couldn't find the bar code. I bought it two days ago, had the receipt, and was so annoyed! Turns out the lesson to be learned from this is that my tantrums are best avoided since I realized I can send the headphones to Mr. Dirteens since they'll work with his laptop. Woohoo! No money lost here.