Jul. 25th, 2016

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So it stayed hot today and I didn’t make any simple syrup today either. And so, tonight, looking at my liquor cabinet, I was struck by the thought that I could use honey in place of syrup in pretty much any drink.

So– brought to you by the fact that I have an enormous thing of honey sitting on my counter– I made margaritas using the technique for a Bee’s Knees. And I paid attention to amounts, and didn’t put in anything weird, so here’s a real honest actual recipe. (Margaritas were inspired by having gone for Two Dollar Tacos, which are actually $2.50, here; the joint was jumping and as we left the PA system was playing a sort of inexplicable upbeat translated-into-Spanish cover of Achy Breaky Heart, which I can’t tell whether I considered a highlight or not.)

So. Rodillas de Abejas [I knew rodillas were knees, and Google Translate assures me that abejas are honeybees, so, I’m following the chintzy bar convention of giving hokey Spanish names to anything with tequila in it, this is time-honored ok, don’t laugh], and I’ll put in here a note on how I make margaritas, which is that the ice is super important and don’t serve this over one measly ice cube. You want a bunch of medium-sized ice cubes, and fill the glass, or this will be both too sweet and too sour. If you don’t like ice in your drinks, you probably won’t like my recipes; they rely on the dilution.

Recipe makes two servings. Start with one of those medium-sized Mason jars, 500 ml/1 pint. Handily, they have ounces marked on the sides, so, use that so you don’t get a shot glass dirty. (You found me out. That’s the only reason I have a recipe to recount; I looked at the side of the jar.) (I own fancy mixing glasses. I don’t use them.)

4 oz tequila (I prefer anything with actual agave in it, but if you feel fancy, whatever reposado is on sale is usually a nice change. I think I used Sauza here tho)
2 oz Grand Marnier knockoff (I think it’s called Gran Gala? I’m fancy about some things but not my flavored liqueurs.)
dump in between 1 and 2 ounces of honey. I was pouring from a gallon jug so it’s hard to control that.
Shake that up, those are all your room temp ingredients.* 

When all is combined and the honey dissolved, add:
1 ounce of lime juice and 1 ounce of lemon juice.
Shake that up too, then fill your glass with ice, I’m not kidding, fill it all the way, crack those cubes if you only have giant ones. Then pour the whole thing into two glasses, or store it in the mixing jar room temp with no ice in it while you finish your first one. (I’ve learned– if you stick an over-strong drink in the fridge while you finish the first one, the second one won’t melt the ice properly.)

A note on salting rims and making frozen drinks and such– that’s cool, I’ve done those things, I hate frozen drinks but it is a good way to make sure there’s enough ice. IDK how to use a blender, it’s always a pain in the ass. 

But if you want to salt or sugar a rim, just get a shallow saucer and fill it with whatever granular substance your heart desires, then the usual bar technique is to take a lime wedge and run it around the rim, but you could also moisten your fingers with water or lime juice and do the same if this is for your personal/family consumption. Then gently press the glass into the saucer and voila. It’s a mess and I don’t care for it, but if you’re entertaining or like to feel fancy, you ought to do you.

And like. Weird old lady tip. I’m old and can’t drink like I used to. My general rule is I put a ton of ice in my drink, and drink it slow enough that the ice all melts, and that way I don’t drink enough that I get a hangover. I am so old you guys. 
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yo the air just got mad heavy and it’s black as pitch here even though the sun was up, and there’s all this thunder, and i’m annoyed because chita was chilling with me and now she has had to go hide under the bed, but if we get like, an inch or six of rain, that would be totally cool by me and would make up for the oppressive terror of the rumbling sky, I’m just saying
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I love this documentary of your shopping trip! I did the same on Friday, isn’t capitalism soothing to the soul? And GREAT BRA, dude!

Ha ha, thanks! I’m so pumped about those bralettes. I have been wanting something like that for years and I wistfully poke at the Waif-Sized Fashion and get all sad now and then. 

It is literal years, maybe approaching a decade, since I Went To A Mall, and actually there was a horrible traumatic mall trip once when I was like, twenty, where there was literally no clothing for me to buy– too large for the size 13s in the Misses-sized stores, too small for the size 14s in the Fat Lady store, and they literally laughed me out of the Fat Lady Store, and I spent two hours at the mall including crying in a bathroom, and shortly after that, ecommerce became a workable thing. [I have also actually done the thing where I go to a website, find every single thing they have in my listed size, and add every single one to my cart, and wind up with like, four things, two of which are identical but in different colorways, so, I’ve learned to not be real picky. I was just glad to be able to do that virtually instead of with my physical body under the judgy eye of the sales clerk. Because there was literally not a single garment in that mall that I could wear, and while that happens all the time on websites, it stings a lot less to back-button than it does to get empty-handed into the car.]

Not long after, I gained a bunch of weight, and went into the Fat Lady Store and was like hah! you can’t kick me out now! and of course they were totally bemused by this, but. (”Wait,” the sales lady said, “you’re happy you’re fat enough to shop here??”) The sting remains. (And to be fair, there are many stores that carry a range of sizes, but none of them were in that mall [by the way, the second-largest mall in New York State], and none of them were in the rural area where I grew up.)

So acquiring new things is great therapy, but actually finding new things is often An Ordeal. And I was recently (ok like 2 years ago) burned by buying some cute lace bralettes from an online-only retailer and discovering, of course, that they were completely not in any way compatible with my me-shaped self. Because of course, despite my being the listed size, I have apparently extra-dimensional additional boob tissue that exists solely to make me look terrible in bras, which isn’t fair. So. I was maybe more excited about the Torrid bralettes even than I could convey, which is saying a lot. And it was enough to induce me to go step into a bricks-and-mortar retail space, which I almost never ever do. So me in a fitting room= an extremely, extremely rare sight.

While I was in the fitting room, btw, my dude was sitting in the cushy armchairs in the middle of the fitting room area, and another dude was sitting there while his wife tried on things, and came out asking for his opinion, and meanwhile the dude’s other male friend came in from wherever he’d been shopping, and was like “no that dress is great” and the woman wasn’t convinced, and the husband was like “it’s phenomenal, buy it,” and the woman was like ehhh [I couldn’t hear her voice, I could only hear the dudes], and Guy Friend turns to my dude and is like “isn’t that dress great?” and I hear my dude answer, “That dress is great, she should buy it,” and I’m like, why is there a committee of dudes out there, and that’s why I was taking photos to see if the bra fit instead of opening the door and saying “dude does this fit” because I really didn’t need the opinion of the committee, y’know? 
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So yeah an actual line of rain just advanced across my yard, which was keen. Not as epic as you usually see, because my yard consists of about ten feet by ten feet of dead grass bounded in on all sides by garages, but it was still pretty neat. 

I might forgive you for scaring my cat, Terrifying Rumbling Sky, though I’m going to need at least two inches of rain before I am fully appeased. Also I’m going to need this heat wave to break, mmkay. Also this weather system better keep going east because it has basically not rained this entire year on the farm and if the creek dries up I will be Most Put Out.

Weirdness: I know the smell of rain on dirt is called petrichor, it’s like, the Internet’s favorite thing, I get that, but what’s blowing my mind is that right now it smells like the cornfields of my childhood and there is no corn here, only grass and weeds, so that’s weird. But it distinctively smells like a wet cornfield. I’m a writer, I should be able to describe that better. 

The thing about cornfields. If you’re not from an area where field corn is grown– sweet corn gets tallish, six feet or so, but field corn, the kind harvested dry in late October to feed to livestock, is a massive plant, often eight feet tall, and it’s planted in dense rows. The stalks are thick, maybe two inches around or more, and along the length of the stalk there are several ears that stick up, and a number of leaves. The leaves are tough, slightly fuzzy, and the edges are so sharp that as you run along the space between a row, if the leaf gets caught on your body it will funnel into the crevice caused by your shoulder meeting your neck, and will cut the skin there, giving you a superficial slashed throat, and it stings like the dickens and will draw blood if you’re going fast enough. 

And you can’t see out of the rows, you can’t even see the sky. The stalks rattle, even when green and fresh, and so you can hear anything approaching, but the wind also sounds like something approaching, and since you can’t see, you don’t know what’s coming at you until it’s on you. It’s a great place to play, as a kid, but it’s also fucking terrifying. And sure, you can always find the edge of a field by just getting in a row and walking– and if a row intersects yours, well then you know for sure you’re almost at the edge of a field, because otherwise that wouldn’t happen– but corn is grown in massive fields, the bigger the better, and so even in the broken-up little Eastern fields you may have some serious walking to do if you’ve gotten disoriented.

The ears all have silk hanging out the ends of them, and the tops of the corn have tassels, and there’s a distinct scent to the whole thing. The leaves smell, the silk smells, the tassels smell. It’s a green smell, sharp and musty and fresh all in one, and it’s more intense to smell that smell coming off a whole field during a thunderstorm after a dry spell than it is to smell it on your hands when you’re husking sweet corn for dinner. 

This is the season when the field corn begins to get tall and loom– the same season as the thunderstorms get violent. 

There is no corn here, so I must be imagining the smell.

(If my phone weren’t missing somewhere in the house you’d’ve gotten a shaky blurry video of a thunderstorm in my tiny yard instead of this so I’m trying to make myself feel better about the fact that I have to get up now and go hunt down my fucking phone which I know is in the house because my watch is connected to the bluetooth but it’s not anywhere obvious which means it’s under something, which is a pain in the dick, fuck you real life why must you be this way?)
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monocytogenes:

A Softer TFA

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buttons-beads-lace:

I just got a fundraising email from the Minnesota DFL, which is not unusual, but:

It was written by Garrison Keillor.

And he called Donald Trump a troll.

What.
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hansbekhart:

maybe-its-mabeling:

Does anyone else get really caught up on the small details in their writing? Like you can be really good at writing situations and feelings and characters, but you get to a point when you’re writing something small like what they’re making for dinner and before you know it, you’re googling recipes with tomatoes because you think the scene won’t be convincing unless you know the cooking time and temp??

**looks shifty, closes ten tabs**

Sometimes it really affects the story, though. I spend for goddamn ever on this kind of shit, and I cannot tell you how much good it has done me. I have had invaluable character moments and even plot points revealed to me by finding out, say, how many rounds a certain gun holds, or how long it takes to prepare the food most common to this setting, or whether the average citizen could read and if so, what kind of books they’d have. And this works in fantasy, historical, futuristic settings too, even if you have to make up the facts yourself; working out consistency gives the setting a luminous depth of its own. Yeah I waste a lot of time but I know things now, and I refuse to consider it a waste. Not all my writing time is spent writing, and that’s important.
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Yeah chapter 4 is coming along just fine, I just needed like two hours and some free headspace.
Now, does my Overarching Plot make *sense*?
This, we do not ask.
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aloofshahbanou:

Pete Seeger: “Hitler is dead – why do you still have the sign on your guitar?” Woody Guthrie: “Well, this fascism comes along whenever the rich people get the generals to do what they want.”
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acmesalesrep:

“Democratic Party aids life-long Democrat against opportunistic independent” seems like it should be a smaller story than “Russia uses Wikileaks to interfere in a US election”.
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torrilin:

bomberqueen17:

buttons-beads-lace replied to your post “I used to be a professional bartender. I used to make great drinks…”

so (a) I assumed that honey would dissolve in about the same way as sugar even though I never put honey in things, which I should not have assumed. knowing a few sciences led me astray there :) (b) as far as I know, you can still dissolve a decent amount of sugar in water at cold-ish/room temps, it’s just really slow. but idk how “a decent amount” by chemist standards compares to “enough to make a drink taste sweet”.

IDK actually how much honey relative to how much sugar really dissolves– I know there are conversion charts for how much sweetness honey adds per tablespoon etc. compared to sugar, but I haven’t consulted any, I’ve just developed a working rule of thumb kind of knowledge by making a lot of iced tea in half-gallon Ball jars. 

“a decent amount” of sugar to make simple syrup is no less than 1:1, which won’t happen at room temp no matter how you stir. You can make reasonable drinks at 2:1 water to sugar, but only if you’re not really adding ice. Which I do. I like ice in things. 

I have a better grasp of the scientific method than many people, which shocks me (a lot of it is also just common-sense troubleshooting, but your average person will make repeated attempts and change multiple variables each time, which makes the procedure meaningless, and drives me crazy), but I am a disaster when it comes to actually measuring anything with numbers. 

Semi-relatedly, I was thinking the other day that I wish they taught things in school more generally. Like, the scientific method for day-to-day troubleshooting (you know, establish a hypothesis, isolate variables, run your simulation, compare results: voila, now you know it’s definitely the battery that’s shot, not the charger), but also basic food safety and sanitation practices, and like, how not to contaminate your measuring scoop, that kind of thing. I don’t mean we should make our kids do internships in restaurant kitchens, but, I mean, understanding how to sterilize a surface and what counts as recontaminating it would be really good solid information to have before you go out into the world. Do Girl Scouts do merit badges in that? Because that seems really really useful to know. 

I just find it deeply bewildering that how to sterilize isn’t about the first thing taught in biology. And that salad dressing isn’t a go to way to teach emulsion in chemistry class. And if you’re going to get a grounding in OH GOD NO DONT EAT THAT it’s probably going to happen in art class. The world is full of science. But schools act like science only happens in a lab. Not in jam jars.

And well, I’m a lot more concerned about the jam jars, y'know? Botulism isn’t fun.

I find it even more bewildering that really critical stuff like how much salt, acid, alcohol, sugar etc will preserve a food isn’t covered anywhere. Figuring out what’s safe and for how long and understanding why is kind of important for the whole being alive thing. And it’s a fascinating topic with lots of moving parts, and it tends to involve lots of biology, chemistry AND physics.

(There may be Girl Scout badges that sorta cover this stuff, but last I looked they tended to be similarly school lumpy and disconnected.)

also: danceswchopstck said: I like the idea of those kinds of things being taught. Also basic hand tool use. Preferably without having to sign up for the whole home ec or shop role.

Yeah, I mean, those used to be things parents would teach, because they were used every day. But our service-sector economy, and our educational system being explicitly structured to turn out workers suited to the factory system, have combined so that we instead have to memorize facts for standardized tests, and if we don’t wind up working in a job that is required to teach us this stuff, we often don’t really learn it! Unless we’re self-motivated autodidacts.

But I’d just love to see more everyday use of science like this. Practical stuff, so that we can appreciate the hard-won knowledge that humanity has used to get us where we are– where so much illness can be prevented or cured, etc.,– I just would love to have had a formal grounding in that, instead of yet more propaganda classes. You know? I had a great education, but I still remember that we learned the names of all the Spanish explorers in like five separate grades, why did we have to do that? 

I went to a very posh exclusive private girls-only high school and after the AP exams in May, we still had a month to fill. The AP Physics class requested, and got, a unit in basic automobile maintenance, because they knew they’d never be taught that anywhere else and that, of all the options offered, was what they were worried about: being ripped off by mechanics their whole lives because they didn’t know how the damn things worked. 

(For some reason the AP English requested a unit on Heart of Darkness, which I was lukewarm on, but it did mean that later in college when we read the same fucking book again, I already had a canned essay on it that I sleep-wrote and impressed the professor with. Seriously though, who doesn’t have a pre-prepared essay up their sleeve for Heart of Darkness, everyone’s fucking studied that book. The horror, the horror. I’m terrified of black people but really despite their savage visages it is i who am the monster. oh, the tedium. Other texts I encountered repeatedly include Othello, the Merchant of Venice, The Yellow Wallpaper (astonishingly), and the Grapes of fucking Wrath, which I managed to dodge both times (and one of them was overseas, what the fuck), and if I could go back in time and kill someone with my mind it’d be John Steinbeck. Why’d you major in creative writing, B? Because my other options were medievalism or American lit, and I’m constitutionally incapable of handling medieval literature despite my deep desire to do so, and I refuse to read either Steinbeck or Hawthorne so fuck that shit entirely.)

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