Oh [Meat]balls!   1 comment

I heart Tyler Florence  because of his meatballs.  Seriously.  I made this last night and I swear I felt peace on earth and the end of global warming. Join Tyler’s Meatball Coalition and you too will experience nirvana.

This is not the first dish I’ve made from Tyler’s Ultimate big teevee show. The fishcakes were also a big hit, but did not make the angels sing the way these meatballs did. Gloating side note: my polenta rocks.

Here’s my apology to Mr. Florence: Normally when I make a recipe for the first time I follow it to the “t,” but I couldn’t get chantrelles and I had the most beautiful eggplant and zucchini in the garden.  Here’s my apology to everyone else: I’m the world’s worst photographer using the world’s worst phone cam so the photo is unworthy of the ambrosial nature of this dish.  Make it anyway.

Just do it.

Posted July 17, 2011 by oceangal in Journal

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Drinking and Driving   Leave a comment

Last week I dumped a can of diet pepsi into my emergency brake well (accidentally). Yesterday I emptied 600ml of water into the same (I only have the one car) emergency brake well (also accidentally). Does the last accident cancel out the first? Do I need to look into a car that doesn’t have the emergency brake in the same spot that I set my beverages?

Poor little (Fjord) Focus.


Mood: Parenthetical :-~



Posted June 30, 2011 by oceangal in Journal

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Attention: Wilson Tennis Ball Co.   1 comment

If you should wish to use this photo in an advertising campaign, Poppie and I would consider allowing you to use this for a small fee and a sack of kibble.

Posted May 4, 2011 by oceangal in Journal

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Existential Crisis Level: Ennui   Leave a comment

Which is better than yesterday’s level which was “overwhelmed by meaninglessness.”

Posted May 4, 2011 by oceangal in Journal

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I had a dream the other night the I presume was about monkeys as I woke with The Specials “Monkey Man” earworm and had recently watched Jumanji on the teevee (Monkeys!).

Which of course reminded me of this:

If you don’t know how I got from one to the other, google Terry Hall, my fave 80’s pretty boy.

In case don’t want The Specials earworming you, here’s another Monkey Man:

Posted May 4, 2011 by oceangal in Journal

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Collecting, Using, or Both?   Leave a comment

supersoundcollection1A dear friend of mine, who shares my interest in music, shared this interesting article from the BBC. It’s about a fellow named Guy McKenzie who collects guitars and bought a collection of rare, British made guitars that had been stored in a basement for ages. First of all, the article confuses me. Is the fellow who said this, the current owner of the guitars, or the collector who had them in the basement: “I don’t actually play,” he said “but I just love them in the same way that people collect old paintings even though they can’t paint.”
I guessed the first, and after further research, found that I am right. The analogy doesn’t make sense. Isn’t it more akin to a non-artist collecting paintbrushes, rather than the paintings? Paintings weren’t made to do anything, other than be viewed. Guitars are an instrument by which one creates music.  A second friend said ” Wow! Who buys all those and doesn’t play them? I hope the new guy gets them into the hands of guitarists. Good looking instruments too.” Yes, they do look good, but it doesn’t sound like those guitars are going to be played.  The friend who originally posted the article responded, ” Same kind of person who buys a library of books that are never read? I hope they are played, too, otherwise what a waste of such fine instruments.” Even Jimmy Page, who once reportedly had a collection of over 1200 guitars, reduced his collection, reportedly because who can play that many guitars? And the dude can play guitar!

Doesn’t a person who buys a library full of books want to present an image of a)being smart enough to have read all these books, or b)having high enough status to have a ‘library’ in one’s mansion. He’s blown the first notion by fessing up that he doesn’t play guitar, so maybe he has a ‘music’ room in his mansion and is decorating it. Now that makes sense. But after rifling through Mr. McKenzies website have decided the real reason is closer to ‘c’. This fellow has a f*ing serious guitar collection. More of a museum really. That is pretty high status.

My other obsession  is books. Recently the Valmadonna Trust Library was offered for sale at Sotheby’s in New York.  It is private collection of Hebrew books, collected by Jack Lunzer, who is getting old and wants the collection to go into the right hands so they “they are well kept and respected.” The reserve is $40 million, so I unless Bill Gates wants it, or Oprah, it will be bought by a museum. In which case anyone who goes to the museum can view the books as works of art. They will never be read, as many of them would crumble if they were handled by a ham-fisted reader such as myself.

But one of Mr. McKenzies guitars is not going to fall apart if I play Mary Had A Little Lamb on it. Just ask Pete Townshend. In fact, if you get a bit rough with one, it’ll damage you, Krist Novoselic will testify to that. I’m different than him, if I owned a library full of books, I would be reading them. If I owned a music room full of instruments I would take lessons so I could at least play Mary Has A Little Lamb on most of them (maybe he can).

maybelle-banjo-uke-012Which brings me to my ukelele banjo. Belonged to my great-grandmother who played it and the violin (I have that too, but it’s not in playable condition) and piano (which I don’t have). I’ve dug the uke out of the garage and have managed to tune it, and learn a note (C) and a chord (G7). Now I need to put my pith helmet on and hunt out Mary Had A Little Lamb. Also need more bookshelves so the piles of books that litter every flat surface in my home (and yes I’ve read most of them, and fully intend to read all of them) can have their own special place.

Anyways (heh), nice collection Guy!

Posted April 16, 2009 by oceangal in My Humble Opinion

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Reading and Writing   Leave a comment

A couple of years ago bunch of book-worms at my place of employment got a book club together, and while some may tease us about being a wine and gourmet food club, we do read the book and discuss it for at least five minutes. Them’s the rules. Book Club was epic last night, stuffed myself with great food and a delightful Riesling. The highlights were beet and onion salad , cheddar and beer soup , and “Better Than Sex” cake. The pork sampler with fruited sauerkraut was delicious with grainy mustard and brought back memories of dining out in Munich. The book was Skeletons at the Feast, by Chris Bohjalian, which was good to read if light in character development, heavy in subject matter.  Set in Eastern Germany at the ending of WWII, it follows a German family in their trek to get away from the invading Russians, and a group of female Jewish concentration camp prisoners being moved to another camp. The two groups finally intersect at the end to a quasi-Hollywood ending. Of the two war novels we read, I preferred Atonement, better characters and no false redemption or Hollywood ending. I’m an appreciator of well-written tragedy and pathos. That said, I’m ready for something light and perky, to go with my new-found spring is in the air/happiness and light/rainbows and unicorns attitude. Any reccies?

As opposed to the stories I like to read, the stories I write are light humor; bawdy and fun are how most of them could be described. I’m not sure it’s that I’m afraid to turn my hand to drama or that I truly can’t write it. I keep throwing out hints to one of my friends, who has a way with the deep stuff, of a story I would like to read. The dratted woman just ignores my hints. I’m going to have to figure out if tragedy truly is beyond my capabilities or if it’s just fear, and try writing it myself. I read something recently that summed up how I feel: ” Human language is like a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, when all the time we are longing to move the stars to pity.” – Gustav Flaubert – Madame Bovary (Gerard Hopkins’s translation)

I long to move the stars to pity.