Thursday, July 06, 2006

Worth A Million In Prizes

The past few days have been something of an ordeal - if in the times of war, torture and swimsuit season one can describe several days of intense effort and suspense as an ordeal. Even so, I spend half my time laughing at my own idiocy. To continue from yesterday's idiocy:

Dad: I like the board and the card is funny. But they were addressed to John Heatwole's house. He's a famous Civil War writer, sculptor, painter and cetera.
Tata: My stars, a girl could start a revolution, sending Father's Day gifts to the wrong man. In fact next year, I think I'll send Candygrams to the Republican National Committee.
Dad: They would tout it as a return to traditional family values. And take credit for it. And say that everybody who doesn't think it's a good idea is part of the terrorist organization called "Down-With-Fathers" who want to bomb maternity shops. The bastids. By the way, I'm at 4290 [Dad's street.]
Tata: Did I transpose digits? Make up my own address? I copied off the funny screen-thing but I'm good for seeing things that are - IS THAT A SHINY OBJECT?
Dad: SHINY OBJECT...? Darla says I don't have ADD, I have Attention Surplus Disorder. SHINY? Too many things occupy 100% of my capacity to concentrate... IT *IS* A SHINY THING... but I think... AND LOOK - OVER THERE. ANOTHER ONE...! 52 [Dad's street], the package said. Yeah, transposed. In the Bantu numbering system.

There it is. He's invoked a seldom-used plot device: Steve Biko. And Peter Gabriel's singing in my head. So we talk about food, because other than our mutual fondness for Hugh Laurie, what is there in life but calling each other up and shouting recipes? In this case, email was a lot quieter and didn't tip off my co-workers, which is good because contemplating moisture at work is at least...unsanitary...

Dad: Beer bread recipe:

3 cups self-rising flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 can beer (12 ounces)

To make your own self-rising flour,

For 1-cup substitution
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt

Tata: I'm big on whole wheat flour, which I probably mentioned. How can I make self-rising whole wheat flour? The moisture levels differ, I know.

I probably should have seen this coming. But I didn't. My cover was blown when my co-workers demanded to know why I'd turned blue. Wind up and...

Dad: According to Linda McCartney, one of the culinary wizards of our time and a vegan (inherent hyper-oxymoron, although not as good as the three-pronged "constructive government program" wherein everything contradicts everything), the recipe is...
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon salt
She goes on to say, in that crisp British way... oh, wait she was from Schenectady or someplace like that... "When measuring flour, lift and stir it lightly with a fork or spoon to aerate it before measuring." And, no, I don't think she said "aereate." Apparently the word "sift" was too rarefied.

Whole wheat flour will give a more dense finished result than the already rather dense white flour product, to compensate for which I have no suggestions. A pinch of extra gluten might help, but I haven't tried it. Hyper-oxymoronic means it's more than just a contradiction, in the same way as "more than perpendicular" means, um, that it's, er, you know, more than merely perpendicular. Or perhaps more unique than perpendicular.

She was a true and genuine moronic ignoramus fuckwit, but I mean that in a good way. "This cake contains no sugar, relying instead on the natural sweetness of dried fruits and fruit juice. Wrapped tightly and stored in an air-tight tin, the cake will keep very well. 2 cups golden raisins 1 1/2 cups currants 2 1/3 cups halved candied cherries 1 cup chopped raisins 2 Tbs. chopped candied ginger 1/4 cup light corn syrup 7 Tbs. margarine 2 cups unsweetened fruit juice 1 cup soymilk 2 cups whole wheat flour 2 cups whole wheat self-rising flour." Unfortunately, she wasn't "Wrapped tightly."

See, no sugar. It's "natural sweetness" from fruit and corn syrup. And "candied cherries" or perhaps "candied ginger." No sugar. Whew. I was worried about sugar. Don't want to be in the SAME ROOM as sugar. GodDAM sugar. FUCK SUGAR!

Fortunately, I'm listening to Jim Croce on my iPod, so I'm impervious to veganism. SHINY OBJECTS for the ears. How I keep grounded or centered or whatever they're saying nowadays - Croce. And Willie Nelson. Nine-inch Nails as interpreted/improved by Johnny Cash. Nana Mouskouri.

Soy milk has a profound effect on my digestive tract that doesn't feel altogether spiritual. And I do so worry about how they kill the adorable little soys.


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