#have some shmaltz

[asurius]

Wukong with a Reader spouse he absolutely adores to bits back before he got sealed under the mountain and when Tripitaka comes to free him reader is with him and Wukong is so happy that he’ll have them with him on this journey and-

Why don’t they remember him?

Nothing they’re saying is making sense, they don’t remember Flower Fruit Mountain? Or Water Curtain Cave? All the monkeys?

This must be a case of amnesia or something, that’s it. He’s not focused on the implications of this, his spouse is in-front of him now and that’s what matters! He’ll helpfully fill in the blanks and tell them everything!

Reader is a bit put off by the strange monkey who insists he knows them and talks about things that couldn’t have happened, but he’s fun to talk to so they at least listen.

It’s not until the White Bone Demon Arc when Wukong gets banished and takes Reader with him and returns to FFM that he finds out what really happened.

A lot has happened in 500 years and not every monkey made it.

His partner died. They died years ago. From either Erlang’s fire or from one of the numerous hunter attacks.

He’s been traveling with their reincarnation this whole time.

He doesn’t…He doesn’t know how to feel. He should be relieved right? Atleast they’re technically back with him before he even knew of their death right? It can be like nothings changed but-

But they died. Their reincarnation isn’t them. Not fully. Gods how did he not see the differences before? Because he was lying to himself. He didn’t want to see the obvious conclusion.

He mourns. He respectfully apologizes to reader and then distances himself. What would’ve been a time for celebration at his return is instead a wake for all those lost.

But reader is confused. All those stories he was telling were true? He wasn’t technically confusing them for someone else, they were that someone else! Reader has definitely been developing their own feelings for Wukong in the meantime but never acted on them because how could they? All this time they’ve thought Wukong had them confused!

But now they’re in a weird place. Wukong doesn’t know how to feel anymore, he does care for reader, he still loves them, but even if they’re so much like his reader that it hurts it’s not them, but it is? But he loves them as he’s come to know them not just as the them he thought they were. It’s too much for him and he needs time to process.

And then Bajie comes to collect them and it’s a much harder sell this time but reader convinces him they have to go back. And he has always listened to them if nothing else.

When all is said and done and Tripitaka is saved once more Reader takes Wukong to the side away from the others and sits him down.

They have a long long talk. They both want a relationship but both agree it would be better to start from scratch. And so they have a moment of proper introductions.

“Hi, my name is (Y/N)”

“Hello (Y/N), my name is Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, you might’ve heard of me.”

“Oh yes I’ve heard you’re pretty great!”

“And I’ve heard the same about you! Tell you what, a couple of greats like us would be even better together wouldn’t you say?”

“I think I’d like nothing more!”

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

What are Chabat pesach customs?

Assuming that this is in reference to the post about the Facebook group and therefore specifically about food customs:

We only eat handmade shmura matzah, not machine-made matzah

We don’t eat gebrokts (matzah that has gotten wet) except on the 8th day, so nothing made with matzah meal or other ways of incorporating matzah into a recipe with other ingredients.

We don’t eat processed foods because even if it’s certified for Pesach, we want to be completely sure we know what’s in our food on Pesach. What exactly “processed” means varies from family to family. It’s pretty typical that people will rely on matzah they didn’t personally make, store-bought wine, and olive oil. But some families bake their own matzah, make their own wine, and use shmaltz rather than oil. Some will use store-bought potato starch. Some will eat certain unflavored dairy items, some only give those to little kids, and some won’t have them at all for anyone. Many people will buy processed snacks like potato chips for little kids but older kids and adults won’t eat them.

Other than romaine lettuce, which we use for maror, we only eat fruits and vegetables that can be peeled.

[amuppetreference]

recipe 1

as per my deal with a hungry entity, i am posting the occasional recipe. i am not a professional chef, and these are not written formally. i hope these humble offerings will still suffice.

avgolemono soup

this is basically a creamy soup with no dairy, instead using a mixture of eggs and lemon juice. many different cultures have versions of this as a sauce or a soup. i'm using the greek name as it is the most common in the u.s.

personally, i'm familiar with it through sephardic cusine. kosher law forbids mixing dairy with meat, and thus most cream sauces and soups were forbidden. this proved a wonderful substitute. the ingredients are easy to come by, and while it requires some concentration it doesn't take that long to make.

tools

a pot. i use my dutch oven but pretty much any pot will do. just don't use a saucepan.

large heat proof bowl

whisk

spatula. i prefer to use a wooden one.

ladle.

cutting board

knife. it just needs to be sharp enough to chop onions

ingredients

salt and pepper. i like kosher salt and have a pepper grinder with a blend of black, white, and red peppercorns, but that's just me.

3ish tablespoons olive oil. just enough to cover the pan and cook the onions. i've tried shmaltz and butter as well, and while i wouldn't recommend substituting it can be done in a pinch.

1 yellow onion. or a white onion. just not a red one. i've tried using a few shallots instead and i wasn't a fan, but some people might like it.

3 or 4 eggs. this will impact texture. 3 eggs to 1/2 cup of lemon juice will result in a slightly lighter and fluffier soup and four eggs to 1/2 cup lemon juice will be slightly thicker and creamier soup.

8 cups chicken broth. i just use better than bullion. if you want more control over the saltiness, i'd recommend getting low-sodium broth and salting to taste.

1/2 cup lemon juice. use fresh lemon juice. it's one of those cases where you really can taste the difference, and citrus juicer are inexpensive. if you're unsure how many you'll need, just grab a bag.

1 cup orzo. arborio rice (a starchy short grain rice used to make rissoto) can also be used, although i'd recommend only using 1/2 to 3/4 cups of that.

shredded chicken. just get a rotisserie chicken and shred it yourself. i prefer breast meat in this dish, but you can add dark meat or even chicken skin if you want. add as much as you want. i'm not your mom.

fresh dill.

instructions

shred the chicken

chop or dice the onion according to your preference. if you don't know how, just google some techniques. and use the cutting board. if you don't have one, get one. you need it. season with salt and pepper.

if you haven't already, juice those lemons and measure it out.

gather all your ingredients and tools. trust me, it's way easier.

heat the olive oil in your pot/dutch open/whatever over medium heat

add the chopped/diced onions and sautée until softened. how much is up to you.

add the chicken broth and bring to a boil.

add the orzo and cook until tender.

in the mean time, combine the eggs and lemon juice in the heat-proof bowl and whisk together. don't half ass this. you should end up with a fluffy, light mixture.

now here comes the tricky part. when the orzo is cooked, reduce the heat until the soup is at a gentle simmer (i'd aim for low-medium). then, SLOWLY add about one cup of hot broth to the egg-lemon mixture WHILE WHISKING THE MIXTURE. you can use a measuring cup or your ladle. this can be tricky to do alone, so if you prefer you can get someone to pour the broth or whisk the mixture for you.

then, slowly begin to add the mixture into the soup while CONSTANTLY WHISKING THE SOUP. if done incorrectly, the soup will curdle and you'll end up with something more like egg drop soup. go slow, and pay attention. if the soup gets above a gentle simmer, turn down the heat more. don't stop whisking for more than a few seconds though. i told you this part was hard.

add the chicken. it shouldn't take more than a minute to heat through.

remove from heat and adjust seasoning. serve hot, and garnish the soup with fresh dill. you can skip that last part if you want to, but i think it really brings the dish together flavor wise.

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #19:

Comes A Time

Much like my underpants, I've always undervalued Comes a Time, Neil Young's 78 Nashville record that features at least 27 different rhythm guitar players.

You've got to own Comes a Time, of course, just like you gotta own some underpants. But both seem too mainstream, too boring, and too readily available in the Dollar Bin to really appreciate.

But there Comes a Time when one must stand back and appreciate their own underpants: after all, they work hard for you; they don't take your indifference personally; come to think of it, your underpants are actually pretty great.

And so I donned a pair this morning then dropped the needle on Comes a Time.

Much of my dismissive gesture towards the record comes from Shakey himself: after plodding his way through Lotta Love on Live Rust he seemingly apologizes for the song, the album, and that entire phase of his manifold musical identity, bringing a twin tone of disgust and eagerness to his next directive to the band: "let's play some rock and roll."

What's more, the album's B Side is pretty dull. Ben Keith and Neil keep themselves in cages of their own creation on just about all of it (okay, I admit, the steel guitar solo on Four Strong Winds is pretty sweet) and the result is some seriously Shakey Shmaltz.

Which is too bad, because listen to how great a song like Already One could have been if Neil hadn't surrounded himself with autoharps and happiness.

Happiness: it's not one of Young's greater musical qualities. Sorry Neil, but we appreciate you most when you are full of rage, humor or wacko intensity. During this famous Boarding House show Neil's guitar seemingly has 68 different strings on the bridge and he comes across as a mournful guy you'd totally marry and have babies with.

But let's talk about Comes a Time's A Side. The front of this particular pair of Neil Young's underpants has all kinds of groovy features. Goin' Back, with its foreign creates at play, is cosmically surreal, and it shimmers like a message of peace sent by the aliens Young anticipated in After the Gold Rush;

Look Out For My Love features the invention of Neil's signature windshield wiper guitar work and includes men with walkie talkies (it also happens to be the best song my buddy Ned dials up on his own 6 string) - I'm always ready to get out my flashlight and waive it around while grooving along to this track.

Lotta Love is cute, Come a Time is solid (even though Neil plays it too often) and Peace of Mind is chock full of Ben Keith level splendor.

Of course a lot of the enjoyment this record offers on a Shakey Sunday comes for that second voice you hear in these songs: Nicolette Larson sings on just about all of this record and she offers Young some of the best vocal accompaniment in his career.

Sure, she has an easier job here than Emmylou Harris had three years before on Dylan's Desire, but she pulls it off with aplomb and it's extra sweet to hear Neil step aside altogether and let her steal his bizzaro show on Motorcycle Mama.

I don't have any idea what any of this is about, though I fear heroin is somewhere in its big spike mix, but that's the way I like Shakey best: incomprehensibly silly and intense all at once. Clearly, no one's wearing underpants on this track.

Cheers, people.

[fuckkbrunch]

A classic vietnamese sandwich. I've seen plenty of bastardized versions, even made some myself at past jobs, but never tried them. I had to make a batch of do chua for one of the salads, so I figured I'd line this one up too, so I wouldn't have to make multiple batches.

More chicken livers. Instead of butter, I used most of the leftover shmaltz I made a couple weeks ago. That stuff smells like bottled essence of KFC, but splatters so hard.

Zip those up into a loose chicken liver pate. It tastes as gritty as it looks, and gives flavours of ground up pocket change. Not my thing. Surprisingly, it meshes well in the sandwich though. A good contrast.

Beautiful spam stacks, I did these with my cheapo mandoline, very satisfying to slice. I didn't photograph the can, but I swear it's real Spam. Also pictured: finely sliced bird's eye chili in the background. Seeds mostly removed because I like tasting my food.

The julienne blade for my mandoline gave me so much trouble, my fingertips hurt from reefing on vegetables. That chainmail glove protects well, but the metal of the glove really fucks with your fingers.

I should've photographed it open faced, but this'll do. Tony says the bread makes or breaks banh mi, so I'm sure this is at least partly broken. I don't have access to a vietnamese bakery, nor do I trust my abilities to bake the buns myself. He says cheap French bread will do in a pinch, so I found these sub buns. They were okay.

| Banh Mi |

Taste is a 3 out of 5. Vinegar and salt are king here. Really wish I had the right bread.

Difficulty is a 2.5 out of 5. He even says you can buy pate instead of making it.

Time was about an hour. Make the do chua the day before so it can quick pickle overnight.

I don't like cilantro, so I put less than suggested on mine, and I could stand it. My partner really enjoyed it too. I'll be making these a few more times, until I run out of either buns or Spam.

[brewyork]

Commentary: When Planning Area Beer Festivals, Consider Area Transport Modes

Blue Point’s annual Cask Festival is transit-accessible, but many other area beer festivals are not

Hey, New York-area beer festivals: we need to talk.

There have been several beer festivals I’ve wanted to attend this year that were held within 30 miles of Manhattan. But you wouldn’t know that they were held so close to New York City, which is a city of more than eight million people where more than half the population lacks access to a car and relies on public transit. These particular festivals offered only driving directions to the venue on their event pages or websites, with no mention of transit — usually because their organizers chose venues that were nowhere near any reasonable public transit option. Some even boasted about the amount of free parking at the venue. But I, like literally millions of other people in the New York metro area, do not own a car. And even if I did, I wouldn’t choose to drive it to a beer festival, because that’s pretty damn irresponsible.

It’s kind of stunning that these events don’t offer realistic options for people that might not want to drive to a beer festival (or, more specifically, from a beer festival). And it would be fairly easy for the organizers of these festivals to do something about it. They could offer a ticket that includes charter bus transportation from a nearby commuter rail station — or even partner with a bar or brewery in New York City to run a shuttle (this was done for several years when Shmaltz Brewing would hold their festival at their brewery in Clifton Park, which is nearly three hours north of the city). They could partner with a rideshare company to offer free or discounted rides from their venue (this, of course, would require holding the fest in an area that’s reliably serviced by rideshare companies — something that cannot be said for some of these fests). They could choose venues with public transit access in mind (one upcoming beer festival is one-third of a mile from a commuter railroad station as the crow flies, but the only way to access the venue by foot requires a 40-minute walk on roads with no sidewalks).

Oh, you have a Designated Driver ticket option? Great. Entrusting people who attend a beer festival to designate a driver when no other transportation option exists seems totally safe! There are far too many people who can’t be trusted and should at least be offered another option. And what about people like me, who choose not to own a car? Imagine that conversation with a friend. “Hey, I don’t own a car, but you do. Can you drive me to a beer festival and then hang around a bunch of drunk people for three to four hours and then drive me home?” I’m sure that’ll go over like a lead balloon.

The next beer festival in our city’s suburbs that makes any attempt to address the fact that people would like options to access the festival by something other than private vehicle will immediately get my business. A few have made some effort, but it’s hard to even tell if it was intentional or just happenstance. One festival on Long Island this year made no mention of public transit as an option despite being on a frequent bus line and a 20-minute walk from LIRR. Another upcoming fest says they “strongly encourage rideshare,” but neglects to even mention that the venue is a 10-minute walk from an LIRR station. Ooh, so close!

Organizers of beer festivals shouldn’t just mention transit access — they should promote it as a benefit not just for people who don’t own cars, but for people who simply don’t want to drive to a beer festival (which should, honestly, not even be a thing). Leave the car at home! Be responsible! Don’t drink and drive! That should be the message anywhere, but especially in the New York metro area.

[whatimadefordinnertoday]

Baked meat balls and rice!

Mixed together 1.5 lbs each of ground

Lamb meat

White chicken meat

Beef

And a drained brick of firm tofu

4 eggs

1 cup of seasoned bread crumbs

1 table spoon of parsley

1 teaspoon of onion powder

Garlic powder and salt and pepper to taste. You do you boo.

Make balls.... My lack of knowledge of sports is hurting me here. About the size of a jumbo sized chicken egg? Put the bigger ones on the periphery as you make them. Put in a 350 f oven for about 20 minutes. Cut one in half to check that they aren't pink inside. Some fat should have melted onto the baking sheet. If that hasn't happened yet, probably they aren't done. Let cool for at least 5 minutes before eating. They freeze great! You can reheat them by pouring a jar of marinara sauce into a sauce pot and adding the frozen meat balls and heating it on a low flame till it bubbles. Stir frequently and allow to bubble for about 10-20 minutes.

Rice is chicken shmaltz rice! When ever you make chicken, always pour the juice and fat from the pan after cooking and store in the fridge. Then add to rice before cooking. So so good.

I should probably eat a vegetable but I ate salad for lunch so meh.

[seangeekpodcast-blog]

Episode 464 – Be Good To Yourself and Thank the People Around You Seanorama is here this week to offer a heads up on his mental health, talk about his fallen comrade Shane, and offer some advice in a screwed up world. He also takes this moment to thank the people that have kept him going through all the crap. Big shoutouts to Ronald George Moore from the Manitoba Moneyshot Podcast and Stefan Richards from Padre’s Palace, Corey from Geekspin, T’Carp from High Frequency Kicks.

Also want to offer big shouts out to my co-hosts FastFret, Karen Bee, Rory Employay, and of course CoreyGeek himself. Thanks to Corey Morrissette and Mark Camire for what they do and for who they are human beings.

Enough Shmaltz, go download the episode already, wouldja?

#podcast #mentalhealth #thankyou #thanks #community

[dncinginthemccnlight]

"It is difficult to imagine being forced to socialize so gracefully so soon after birthing, but Queen Defne is nothing if not graceful. Surely, she will make it look effortless, even if it is the most difficult thing. I only hope that her and the the King get a few moments to themselves in this beautiful place." Being new parents did little to encourage intimacy, especially when the small child could be up at all hours, but hopefully the ball would give the King and Queen time to enjoy each other even more, though they were already the most in-love couple that Constance had ever seen. Such shmaltz in herself would have been unbearable, but for them, Constance was at least pleased. "Hopefully we shall have a long time before she starts rejecting all our choices. Plus, the Queen is the sweetest mother in the world. What child could hope to stay defiant with her?" Constance laughed. Still, children could be temperamental; her own daughter was all sweetness and giggles, nothing like herself. "I might choose to stay for a bit. My agent was scoping out some campaigns here and it might be nice to have a few beach days." Not to mention her brother also probably had other work to be done there as well.

❛too soon, i'm sure this is the last place she wants to be.❜ but naz has known they wouldn't sit it out even if they had wished to. given the cause behind the ball, almost everyone was attending and english monarchs would be no different. so, nazli had taken the stress of packing and organizing out of defne's hands entirely, and naz herself is grateful for the blonde's help. constance has no need to be assisting as this was solely's naz's job, one she was more than happy to do, but it was nice to have the other's company while defne is occupied and attended to by her husband. upon arriving, she and the blonde had begun unpacking and organizing the childrens clothes. as it went when ecrin is born, unpacking her clothes was the complicated of both children, and also the most fun as both women organized the princess's by event, outings, etc. the turkish woman grins, ❛which is why i'm milking every chance to pick up clothes for her before defne nor i will be able to do so.❜ she knows her best friend would miss that aspect, along with any others when the princess was elder. ❛jane is a one lucky little girl to have such dotting uncles, really, it's so rare to see other relatives dotting on their siblings children. do you all intend to make this trip a vacation?❜ this is her first time portugal, and naz definitely wanted to go sightseeing.

[lumityowo]

Theory/concept

HEAR ME OUT!!!!!

Spoilers Btw//

With the theory thats been going around about how Luz getting possessed by the Collector it got me thinking.

What if the collector ended up cursing Luz or in other words leaving some of themselves in Luzs body making her that yellow and blue hue we've seen from the teaser dana gave us of that mysterious character we've yet to see.

Now this is where it gets a little less theory like and more concept like bc it just sounds cool to me more then a possibility.

Amitys necklace being a crescent moon and associated with the moon may entail to a foreshadowing of some kind with the moon.

Now what if Luz did end up (theoretically) getting the collecter left in her or cursing her. We've yet to see a cure for curses in the show but we have seen it be shared. I.e The owl beast curse being shared between Eda and Lilith.

What if amity ended up using that spell to split that "collector curse" from Luz and ended up leaving Luz with the Yellow half of the curse and giving amity the blue half. Blue representing the night or "moon" and Luz getting the Light side because her name is literally "Light" in spanish.

That would leave some sort of magic in Luz now that she has some type of demon like remneant in her and allowing her to use (ill be it minimal) magic and able to actually become a witch like shes always wanted.

NOW IK IK THIS SOUNDS CRAZY AND STUPID bUt thats why im calling tjis more of a concept or maybe even AU if anything then a full on theory. I needed to write this down somewhere and this is the first place i could find, so if anyone else happens to read this then i hope you aswell can maybe enjoy this thought alongside me. Bc this honestly sounds cool as heck to me and would honestly be super sweet if amity were willing to share a curse with Luz if it meant she wouldn't be fully cursed forever. Cute shmaltz is my favs

[heretherebedork]

Yesterday was my friend group's annual road trip to books, as we call it! In which four nerds drive downstate (three hours each way) in order to go to a giant used bookstore and get nerd books.

It's great!

We did a picnic at a rest area on the way down, I got a small pile of books including Muppet Show comic and a fun anthology and some puzzles for my students.

But, most importantly, we stop at White Fence Farms in the way home. And they have the best fried chicken. Just... in general. It's so good.

Even better? The relishes. The cottage cheese and the kidney bean salad and the delightfully vinegar coleslaw and, most importantly, the corn fritters. The sweet and delicious corn fritters. They're just the best.

And the coolest part? Two of my friends gave me their leftover chicken and the waitress grabbed us entire bags of corn fritters to take home and she let me take the chicken gravy that's basically shmaltz but somehow chicken-ier... magically.

Anyway yesterday was long but good and now I'm chilling out before the farmers market and eat popcorn for breakfast instead of chicken because chicken is a better lunch than breakfast.

[arterrorist]

If there was something I didn't see comming it's me becoming an Alice Copper fan. It hit me by surprise. I mean big time. I knew Alice since his 90's hit „Poison”, which I liked, but checked the album it was on, called „Trash” and I thought to myself: what an appropriate name for this hair metal garbage! and didn't bother to check anything more.  So I've come quite a long way from regarding him a pedestrian rocker to become an acolite fan. I've accumulated all these records within last month or so. It's my top ten of AC. It happens to contain five Alice Cooper band albums and five from Cooper solo period, mostly from the 70s, Dada being the only 80s album.  

Now, getting to know all these records, I consider Alice Cooper (as a band and solo), as one of the most unique artists in the 70s and it's the era full of brilliant bands.

When they rock, they outrock The Who and are equal to Stones, but they are much more than that. Take those unbelivable theatrical arrangements – all those cheesy, or rather kampy choruses, vaudeville inspirations, strings, brass, along with bluesy harmonica and creepy passages with Alice many times being more of an actor than singer with his incredible interpretations of particular lines. Broadway shmaltz mixed with rock played with swager  – brilliant, catchy and provoking mixture!

And then there are all those wonderfully weird and wacky covers with billion dollar bill in the wallet, pants in the schooldesk, callendar with the hangman, cartboard package, book cover, face being the door to assylum and what not!  

And those clever, witty lyrics, sometimes provokingly schocking, sometimes pointing out important social problems, sometimes achingly honest, horror-themed (often in burtonesque way) or speaking directly to the mind of adolescents and sometimes utterly bizzare. Like the one song which is a dental horror, complete with the drilling noises with the story about pulling the teeth, being druged to the point when you halucinate being in a spy movie, with the triumphant fanfare moment of pulling the teeth out. All perfectly accompanied by evershifting musical soundtrack: bombastic when needed, sparse when necessery, cinematic at times and rocking hard when it fits the purpose. And it's only one song of the album, on which others are no less adventurous, but in it's own different way and still remain cohesive. And it's only one album with at least ten others full of their own intricacies to discover and complement the picture of this versatile phenomenon know as Alice Cooper.  

Of course there are more, I just happen to like those ten here the most, but there may be some others comming. I seem to geting like the so called blackout period. „Flush the fashion, Special Forces, Zipper catches skin” - they all have some good material plus I'm still digesting the first two albums by the band, so who knows. I'm not much into later (to this day) Alice period as I think he kinda dwarfed himself to this hard rock/metal persona abandoning most of his uniquness in the process. I mean it was always a rock band of course, but also something more than just it and I feel all the rest is gone now. Anyway those early Cooper stuff is amazing and in constant rotation on my turntable for about a month, and I'm sure, for many years to come.

[nonasuch]

So, I am furious and sad and furious again about the Tree of Life shooting and basically everything around it. But it has been some relief to see so many people, both Jewish and gentile, posting about fundraisers and looking for ways to help in the aftermath.

Unfortunately, the notes of those posts are often full of anti-Semitism, whether from the overt hatefulness of alt-right neo-Nazi shitheads, or the concern-trolling of self-proclaimed leftists who think this is a great time to start up the I/P debate. 

(Hint: It is not.)

(I just saw, with my own actual eyeballs, a post in which someone asked whether the shul and the victims were Zionists or not, because they didn’t want to support or mourn for them if they were.)

After a while, it’s hard to see the point of trying to refute the shitty arguments of shitty people, and you can only say “fuck you” so many times before it starts to lose all meaning. 

Fortunately, there is something to fall back on. Gentile allies, may I introduce you to the wonderful world of 

Yiddish curses

Some of my favorites:

May you turn into a blintz and be snatched by a cat.

May you either have to use the toilet every three minutes or every three months.

May I have the pleasure of sewing your funeral shroud.

May all your teeth fall out but one and may that one give you a toothache.

May you have thunder in your belly and lightning in your pants.

May he have a hundred houses, each house with a hundred rooms, each room with twenty beds, and may a delirious fever toss him from bed to bed.

May you eat chopped liver with onions, shmaltz herring, chicken soup with dumplings, baked carp with horseradish, braised meat with vegetable stew, latkes, tea with lemon, every day - and may you choke on every bite!

Yiddish curses: For when “fuck you, you fucking fuck” lacks sufficient flair.

[fuckkbrunch]

This one was only slightly better than I thought it would be. Doesn't sound appetizing to me in the slightest, and is yet another recipe that really shows you the era Tony came from. That and obvious New York City influences.

Yet again, I find myself running around town trying to find an ingredient that is just non existent out here. I 100% guarantee I could have found shmaltz in Montreal in a second. Checked 4 stores here, and asked online in a reddit group for my city. In the end, I made my own.

Not part of the recipe, but it wasn't difficult to get together. I recently bought some whole chickens for the roast chicken recipe, so I took all the skin from one bird and used that to render down into shmaltz. I butchered up the meat to use in other recipes, and saved the bones for stock.

This was so fucking messy. Chicken fat - unsurprisingly - splatters A LOT. Chicken livers are very wet, so there was a lot of popping and crackling going on. Smelled pretty good though.

I didn't photograph it because I forgot, but before this step I browned some onions. He says to be careful not to let them blacken, which I may have accidentally done a tiny bit. I picked them out and lived with my choice.

There's also a chopped up hard boiled egg in there. A 9 minute egg, to be exact. None of that chalky 15 minute shit up in here.

So, yup. Smoosh onto some seeded rye bread I may have used a seeded multigrain. That's it. Looks like low quality cat food. Smelled very onion-y and sweet. He said if possible, serve with some kind of soda I'd never heard of, and I bet it's hard to find outside of NYC (or maybe Montreal), so I didn't bother with that. I live out west now, shit is weird out here.

| Chopped Liver on Rye |

Taste is a 1 out of 5. The first few bites aren't bad, but I just couldn't finish it.

Difficulty is a 1.5 out of 5. Maybe a 2.5 if you make your own shmaltz.

Time was around 30 minutes.

Very old school kosher deli style sandwich. Made me laugh, because I habitually season that cast iron pan up there with bacon fat. In my house, this meal is definitely not following kosher law at all.

[nedsseveredhead2]

Katie pick up Max, meet me at Emrys’. Bring an onion

Crowdsourcing some latkes, anyone got potatoes?

[soapboxsocrates]

This past Saturday I took my daughter to the local police department’s Mounted Unit stables for volunteer training, and this experience serves as a sort of illustrating context for something I am trying to process today. You have to understand some backstory here, which, simply, is that my daughter has long held a fascination with horseback riding -- so much so that she was even taking lessons just a few years ago. The lessons were pricey, to say the least, and it was ultimately the priciness which sort of killed the idea (of her riding) for me. Her lessons were a rather far piece of driving from our residence, and so it made sense that I would stay out at the horse ranch while she received her lessons. Normally I would have stayed anyways (as I do with my 12 year old son at his karate lessons for instance) for a variety of reasons -- not the least of which at all is safety and protection from abuse and predatory behavior/individuals -- but, in the case of the riding lessons, I found myself desiring to be there, around the horses. A horse has a much slower heartbeat than a human, and that sort of thing in itself is calming and soothing (on some lesser conscious level), and they are fascinatingly empathic animals full of character (behavioral and otherwise), but I think the draw of being around horses  is inexplicably more dynamic, deeper than just the heartbeat thing -- for me, and especially for my daughter. I could wax philosophic about how “true” cowboys (and most cowboys who have no sense of aesthetics or art would even agree), when astride a well trained cutting or roping horse, are sheer artists and a thing of beauty to behold. {Indeed, I would argue it is the artistry of a cowboy astride his horse which perpetuates and sustains the mythos of the cowboy far more than shmaltz or kitsch or sentimentality. But I digress…this is about parenting, afterall.}

The Mounted Unit’s stables are a good hour’s drive away from us, and since it had been my wife who had set the whole thing up, my wife originally planned to take my daughter and both participate in the volunteer program. My wife was suffering the extreme effects of a Covid booster, and was out of commission, so I had to take my daughter. It was at the orientation that I learned about all the opportunities provided by the program, and I have to say that even if the childlike desire to run up and pet the horses hadn’t gotten me interested, the orientation’s in-depth exploration of its philosophy and approach/methodology to interaction with the animals, and the revelation of the nature of the horse and it’s “headspace” (as a prey animal, with instinctual responses and motivations as a prey animals) would have hooked me.

I’ve written elsewhere in previous posts that the teenage brain, according to Frances Jensen in, “The Teenage Brain,” imprints upon experiences and is (at that age) super-charged for learning, and this is why as parents we must be making ways for possible (positive) experiences for them, being ready and quick to identify those interests as they are forming. This past saturday was certainly more than just making way for an opportunity to merely be around horses, or merely to feed an interest for being so (around horses), even though I am fairly certain my daughter (in her scope of conceptualization) only saw it as an opportunity to be around horses and maybe to help out with them. Also, I was very conscious in the moment that it might have been a situation where my daughter might not had wanted me to be entirely involved with her in the program -- sure enough I asked if she did and she didn’t. So there was an intentional limiting of myself with a goal of (intentionally) making more of the experience for her, for her alone (or, rather put, for her individually and “unto” herself to be experiencing it). Simply, I knew there was a potential need I would have to just let it be her thing as much as it could be, then and definitely in the future. So, whatever it actually was , and however she saw it, I knew it was important that the experience “be her’s” as much as possible. It’s not that she didn’t want me, or want me around, but that she was seeking something of herself.

What the experience (offered in the mounted volunteer program) was/is, in actuality, was/is exposure to the applied science of animal sciences (specifically larg animal sciences) -- the very direction, goal, and area of interest of her current coursework, schooling track, and projected degree/area for collegiate career / area of study. She wants to work in large-animal sciences, and the mounted program was the nitty-gritty manifestation, the boots-on-the-ground outworking of large-animal sciences in action, albeit in one very niche arena. As the parent my primary focus is to provide the kid with some experience which will provide the ever more expansive exposures to the “things' ' in which she is interested, simultaneously recognizing her need for (at least the perceived sense of) independance and identity. In her mind her exposure to the large-animal applied science behind the mounted volunteer program will be hers, will be part of her (thus providing a sense of herself to her, a sense of who “she” is). There is no part of that which my enabling it to happen doesn’t touch, my presence always there, partnering with her even to the extent it is wanted.

Ultimately, and I feel this has been what I’ve been driving at, is that I shared it with her: i wasn’t just there as the driver but allowed myself (opened myself to) the experiencing of the joy, the fascination, the excitement and desire to jump in just as she was having, feeling, experiencing. I touched back to my own childlike excitement of being around a big animal and just wanting to pet it; I opened myself to being enraptured (as much as I could be) in the experience of the orientation and training. I did this so that, at the end of the day (so to speak) we effectively shared the moment around which she might imprint, garner some increased interest from (in terms of schooling direction and course of study)... all while it (in her mind) was all hers.

“Consider it pure joy, my brethren, when you face trials and tribulations of all kinds, for these are for the perfecting of your faith which is greater worth than gold -- [gold] which even though it passes through refiner’s fire still corrodes, perishes, wears away… Remember, you are saved by grace, through faith, and this not of yourselves it is the gift of God, the author and perfector of your faith… Remember too that that perfector and author of your faith was tested and tried in every way, just as you are, but was without sin, so he is able to be a mediator of a new covenant, offering prayers and sacrifices on our behalf with understanding, thus enabling us to approach the throne of grace boldly and receive mercy, finding grace in our times of need.” (New International Expanded Kevin Paraphrase Version).

I don’t think God wants us to suffer alone, and I believe He provides the faith beforehand for us to pass through it, is developing that faith as we do pass through it, and is ultimately providing us that faith (and even provisioning us in that faith) for us, but this is not so much what I am talking about here. What I am talking about is the joy that was upon Christ’s mind that led him to put himself in the moment, which was both compassion-making and compassion-providing as much as it was productive of a joyous "(state of) being" ultimately. In the moment at the stables I remembered the joy, the excitement (from when, as a teen) of becoming aware of what could be in life, growing aware of what possibilities existed. In my mind this is certainly how it must have been in Christ’s condescencion to us, moving from that place and existence of greater knowing and awareness to being within the moment with us, that joy set before him for which he did what he did.

If nothing else this means, for parenting, experiencing things with your children which are their experience alone (and, by implication, is your experience alone), the experiencing of which is shared with them. Such definitely equips me to better identify those next experiences, those next things within her chosen path which I might be able to identify for her that she won’t see. It will be in joy, knowing that new experience will further develop her sense of things, growing her. I definitely will have to listen to her, as I chose to do on Saturday (when I asked if she wanted me to do the program with her, and she said she did not -- but I still had to be there as the parent for the orientation). Whatever this is -- and you can call it the “sitting down in the dirt with the kid” part of parenting, the “being present” part, or something else if you need to -- it’s an open-handed, hid behind a curtain unseen, not closed-fist dictatorial thing, just so you can provide for the kid again down the road when they are needing but knowing it, sort of thing.