Tracing constellations on the panes
1. Not only can Fentiman's Dandelion & Burdock be purchased from Zing! Pizza in Porter Square, it's delicious. It hardly tastes like a soda at all—there's a sort of sweet fruit hit, and then the aftertaste is complicated and herbal. And fizzy. If you carbonated the kinds of tea I can drink, this might be the result. I don't know if it is going to displace their Victorian Lemonade, which is made with fermented ginger, juniper, and speedwell, i.e., awesome, but I would definitely go back for seconds. What I want to try now is their shandy and their ginger beer.
2. The Long Voyage Home (1940) is one of my favorite movies; I discovered it by chance on TCM a few years ago and I have no explanation for its obscurity. The script is a composition of four one-act plays by Eugene O'Neill—Bound East for Cardiff (1914), In the Zone (1917), The Long Voyage Home (1917), and Moon of the Caribbees (1918), collectively known as the Glencairn plays after the tramp steamer whose crew make up the recurring cast—and it improves on them. The cast are a true ensemble who come in and out of focus as the story turns, but of particular note to me are Thomas Mitchell, Ian Hunter, and a not-yet-iconic John Wayne. The cinematographer was Gregg Toland, who used the film to beta-test some of the techniques he would ultimately make his name with next year on Citizen Kane. John Ford directed it in between Stagecoach and The Grapes of Wrath. In short, it is the kind of movie that should be available from Criterion with a print that does justice to its densely expressionist black-and-white photography and articles by people who know more about Ford and O'Neill than I do, but failing that I was very glad to see it screened tonight by the Harvard Film Archive as part of their gigantic, multi-part John Ford retrospective.
rushthatspeaks accompanied me and liked it, which made me happy. I never have any idea which likes or dislikes of mine are going to overlap with anyone else's.
3. I watched the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. They made amazing use of folklore, projected light, and puppetry. At one point a fiddler in a witched canoe—a Quebeçois legend—was dueling his own shadow on the moon to the tune of Loreena McKennitt's "The Old Ways." The air was full of fall-red maple leaves. I really hoped
nineweaving was watching.
4. I had quiche for dinner. It contained cabbage. It was quite tasty. (
rushthatspeaks' recipe.) I am not going to dispute this fact, but still: cabbage. Does not compute.
2. The Long Voyage Home (1940) is one of my favorite movies; I discovered it by chance on TCM a few years ago and I have no explanation for its obscurity. The script is a composition of four one-act plays by Eugene O'Neill—Bound East for Cardiff (1914), In the Zone (1917), The Long Voyage Home (1917), and Moon of the Caribbees (1918), collectively known as the Glencairn plays after the tramp steamer whose crew make up the recurring cast—and it improves on them. The cast are a true ensemble who come in and out of focus as the story turns, but of particular note to me are Thomas Mitchell, Ian Hunter, and a not-yet-iconic John Wayne. The cinematographer was Gregg Toland, who used the film to beta-test some of the techniques he would ultimately make his name with next year on Citizen Kane. John Ford directed it in between Stagecoach and The Grapes of Wrath. In short, it is the kind of movie that should be available from Criterion with a print that does justice to its densely expressionist black-and-white photography and articles by people who know more about Ford and O'Neill than I do, but failing that I was very glad to see it screened tonight by the Harvard Film Archive as part of their gigantic, multi-part John Ford retrospective.
3. I watched the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. They made amazing use of folklore, projected light, and puppetry. At one point a fiddler in a witched canoe—a Quebeçois legend—was dueling his own shadow on the moon to the tune of Loreena McKennitt's "The Old Ways." The air was full of fall-red maple leaves. I really hoped
4. I had quiche for dinner. It contained cabbage. It was quite tasty. (

no subject
no subject
Thank you. I'm always looking for good examples of the genre.
Cabbage gets a far worse rap than it deserves.
She salted it and washed it before turning it into quiche, which eliminated most of the scrunching texture; I think being dissolved in cream and egg did the rest. Nonetheless, usually even the smell of cooking cabbage sends me out of a room, so I was impressed.
Brussels Sprouts as well - those you can cut in half and roast at 425 with some olive oil and a little cheese on the top (~25 - 30 min - look for the outer leaves to start turning brown) and they are unlike any Brussels sprouts you ever had, nutty and awesome and not crying out for vinegar to hide the sulfur.
It's not the sulfur that gives me trouble with Brussels sprouts; it's the fact that the taste, as with asparagus and peas, immediately triggers my gag reflex. I've never found a recipe I could tolerate. But I believe that other people enjoy them!