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Jan. 17th, 2010 01:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yagathaiSo it's just past 1:30 AM. I had fallen asleep early tonight, after a really long day full of ashes and staircases and painful decisions, then I got a brief late-night phone call and couldn't get back to sleep.
The contents of the fridge were a little smokey, but still mostly OK. The orange juice has a bit of an unusual tang to it and I'll have to make sure to wash any produce off especially carefully, but overall it's not so bad. Roommate and I transferred the contents of the fridge from our old place to our respective hotel room fridges -- we've got separate rooms now, each with a kitchenette and a lounge area, like a very large, very pleasantly appointed studio apartment. well, the kitchenette only has two electric coil burners and no stove, but it will have to do and is a damn sight better than nothing.
I'm seized with the ridiculous urge to cook at 1:30 AM. I don't have much, but I could whip together some butternut squash soup (I salvaged my blender, which needs a good wash but seems otherwise intact. The kitchen is at the rear of the apt and was the least damaged of any room -- were the blender in the office, it would have been a total write-off), or some orange-and-ginger-glazed carrots and asparagus, or some rice noodles in a chorizo and spinach cream sauce, or some sour turnip cakes with a french-fried onion crust, or a gluten-free pasta salad with hearts of palm and artichoke and a balsamic mustard vinaigrette, or southern-fried pork chops with an acorn squash and apple salad, or a steak with rosemary-mushroom pilaf -- wait, no, I had to throw out all the rice. Well, maybe a cold mushroom salad and a peach glaze for the steak, or turnip-and-pea mash with parmesan cheese? I dunno. I seem to be developing a gut lately and eating this late probably isn't helping, and though I've been trying to watch what I eat, that's pretty much gone out the window this last week.
And yet. My mind is whirring and I really want to cook. Psychologically, that's very interesting.
Also, goddamn I'm hungry now. In part I blame![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
skzbrust. I've been rereading his Vlad Taltos novels these last few days (I am very wicked, because I've been reading PDF versions of his books that I acquired from the interwebs, though I feel like I should take pains to point out that I own dead-tree versions of all of them as well, which are currently outside of my reach through no choice of my own and I'm much rather be reading them but, you know, big ol' fire, and if you're reading this skzbrust I really enjoyed Cowboy Feng's quite a bit) and he uses delicious-sounding food in those books so very often that they keep me in a state more or less constant ravenousness. Is ravenousness a word? I don't know.
This stream of consciousness brain vomit brought to you by stress, exhaustion, and (just now) coffee dosed with honey, cinammon, allspice and nutmeg.
The contents of the fridge were a little smokey, but still mostly OK. The orange juice has a bit of an unusual tang to it and I'll have to make sure to wash any produce off especially carefully, but overall it's not so bad. Roommate and I transferred the contents of the fridge from our old place to our respective hotel room fridges -- we've got separate rooms now, each with a kitchenette and a lounge area, like a very large, very pleasantly appointed studio apartment. well, the kitchenette only has two electric coil burners and no stove, but it will have to do and is a damn sight better than nothing.
I'm seized with the ridiculous urge to cook at 1:30 AM. I don't have much, but I could whip together some butternut squash soup (I salvaged my blender, which needs a good wash but seems otherwise intact. The kitchen is at the rear of the apt and was the least damaged of any room -- were the blender in the office, it would have been a total write-off), or some orange-and-ginger-glazed carrots and asparagus, or some rice noodles in a chorizo and spinach cream sauce, or some sour turnip cakes with a french-fried onion crust, or a gluten-free pasta salad with hearts of palm and artichoke and a balsamic mustard vinaigrette, or southern-fried pork chops with an acorn squash and apple salad, or a steak with rosemary-mushroom pilaf -- wait, no, I had to throw out all the rice. Well, maybe a cold mushroom salad and a peach glaze for the steak, or turnip-and-pea mash with parmesan cheese? I dunno. I seem to be developing a gut lately and eating this late probably isn't helping, and though I've been trying to watch what I eat, that's pretty much gone out the window this last week.
And yet. My mind is whirring and I really want to cook. Psychologically, that's very interesting.
Also, goddamn I'm hungry now. In part I blame
skzbrust. I've been rereading his Vlad Taltos novels these last few days (I am very wicked, because I've been reading PDF versions of his books that I acquired from the interwebs, though I feel like I should take pains to point out that I own dead-tree versions of all of them as well, which are currently outside of my reach through no choice of my own and I'm much rather be reading them but, you know, big ol' fire, and if you're reading this skzbrust I really enjoyed Cowboy Feng's quite a bit) and he uses delicious-sounding food in those books so very often that they keep me in a state more or less constant ravenousness. Is ravenousness a word? I don't know.This stream of consciousness brain vomit brought to you by stress, exhaustion, and (just now) coffee dosed with honey, cinammon, allspice and nutmeg.
