Last Thursday the office went out for happy hour in honor of a fallen comrade. That is a falsehood. He didn't fall, he was simply departing to colder climes. We ate a lot of french fries and I had a Troeginator and a Rogue Chocolate Stout.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Pizza and Beer
On Wednesday I went over to C. and R.'s (and Brutus'...Brutus's) with every intention of eating pizza and drinking wine. But, just to mix things up, I left my laundry at home. The pizza was a particularly good vintage, while the wine was not...though we went with white for a change.
Last Thursday the office went out for happy hour in honor of a fallen comrade. That is a falsehood. He didn't fall, he was simply departing to colder climes. We ate a lot of french fries and I had a Troeginator and a Rogue Chocolate Stout.
Last Thursday the office went out for happy hour in honor of a fallen comrade. That is a falsehood. He didn't fall, he was simply departing to colder climes. We ate a lot of french fries and I had a Troeginator and a Rogue Chocolate Stout.
Non-Mystery Beer and Sliders c/o Brigids...Flowers c/o the Street
Last Tuesday I read an internet article about how Brigid's was going to be cleaning out its beer cellar and selling mystery beer in brown bags for $3. This seemed like it might be fun, as Brigid's generally has a nice selection of beers and who doesn't need a little more mystery in their lives (hint: everyone). So L., AK and I went on over. In very short order we learned that the mystery bag event had been cancelled. But we stayed there anyways. I had a porter of some kind and then a Young's Chocolate Stout.
I ordered their veal sliders and was quite pleased. Two years of working in a not-so-great-but-everyone-who-patronized-it-thought-it-was-awesome coffeehouse left me entirely unimpressed by roasted red peppers (ugh, we had these giant cans of the things, and they were so slimy and we had to cut them and put them on things and the slime, ugh ugh ugh) but their taste actually did add a positive element to the overall presentation of the sliders so I'm not going to hate on them. We also shared a basket of fries with shallot aioli that I found entirely pleasing.
So, the trade-off, I'm finding, of a high ISO in low light is that things quickly become 'noisy' (in old photo terms you'd say that you could see the grain...or I think that's what you would say). I knew this, but seeing it makes it more real (putting theory into practice bitches). I'm still loving the 3200 setting, but I'm realizing that the pictures come out at a price. That price is a small piece of my soul. That is not true at all.
We then decided to go somewhere else. At first we headed toward London Grill, in fact we even went inside, but it smelled weird and was crowded. So, at that juncture, L. and I bid Ak adieu and headed on down to the Belgian Cafe. On our walk we came across a fair amount of trash cans and whatnot, it being trash night. At one point I saw what looked like a huge flower arrangement and I said, out loud, 'those can't possibly be real' before taking a petal between my thumb and middle finger to establish the truthiness of the buds. Turned out that they were real. So L. and I then deconstructed it and walked away, respectively, with about two dozen white and pink roses. Win!
At the Belgian Cafe I had Troeg's Mad Elf, a fine beer.
S., my roommate, ended up being there too, so we asked him to take a few photographs of us with our booty. And this is what happened.
I think this might be the best shot, and as usually is the case, it was also the last.
Well, except for this one.
I ordered their veal sliders and was quite pleased. Two years of working in a not-so-great-but-everyone-who-patronized-it-thought-it-was-awesome coffeehouse left me entirely unimpressed by roasted red peppers (ugh, we had these giant cans of the things, and they were so slimy and we had to cut them and put them on things and the slime, ugh ugh ugh) but their taste actually did add a positive element to the overall presentation of the sliders so I'm not going to hate on them. We also shared a basket of fries with shallot aioli that I found entirely pleasing.
So, the trade-off, I'm finding, of a high ISO in low light is that things quickly become 'noisy' (in old photo terms you'd say that you could see the grain...or I think that's what you would say). I knew this, but seeing it makes it more real (putting theory into practice bitches). I'm still loving the 3200 setting, but I'm realizing that the pictures come out at a price. That price is a small piece of my soul. That is not true at all.
We then decided to go somewhere else. At first we headed toward London Grill, in fact we even went inside, but it smelled weird and was crowded. So, at that juncture, L. and I bid Ak adieu and headed on down to the Belgian Cafe. On our walk we came across a fair amount of trash cans and whatnot, it being trash night. At one point I saw what looked like a huge flower arrangement and I said, out loud, 'those can't possibly be real' before taking a petal between my thumb and middle finger to establish the truthiness of the buds. Turned out that they were real. So L. and I then deconstructed it and walked away, respectively, with about two dozen white and pink roses. Win!
At the Belgian Cafe I had Troeg's Mad Elf, a fine beer.
S., my roommate, ended up being there too, so we asked him to take a few photographs of us with our booty. And this is what happened.
I think this might be the best shot, and as usually is the case, it was also the last.
Well, except for this one.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Fish Tacos c/o Lucky 7
Without meaning to, I have managed to go a record amount of time without grocery shopping. It's been so long, I can't even remember the last time my feet wandered the aisles of Shop Rite or Whole Foods. This lack of proper providing for myself led to a lot of dining out over the past two weeks. Last week, for example, I met up with A.S. to try out Lucky 7's fare, as it is generally in the 'hood, and I'm always looking for a new option for dining/drinking that doesn't necessitate a walk into Center City. I ordered a Heiffeweissen. It was very tall and cloudy, just like I like my men. That made no sense.
I wanted to try their truffle fries, so I ordered them. They had a lovely aroma, and if they hadn't been billed as truffled they would have been entirely acceptable in eating form, but they didn't quite have that fabled truffle taste when chewed. What?
For my main meal I ordered the fish tacos. They were pretty good. I liked the mayo sauce and the tomatoes weren't as anemic as some you come across at this time of year.
A.S. ordered nachos. They looked pretty great, and the top layer was to her liking...but, as with many nachos throughout time, once you got past that top layer there wasn't a lot going on.
End thoughts? Perfectly nice place. Food wasn't really exciting (I didn't go for the burger that included a pork roll and scrapple, that could have been exciting...well heart stopping in any event) but the atmosphere was fine.
I wanted to try their truffle fries, so I ordered them. They had a lovely aroma, and if they hadn't been billed as truffled they would have been entirely acceptable in eating form, but they didn't quite have that fabled truffle taste when chewed. What?
For my main meal I ordered the fish tacos. They were pretty good. I liked the mayo sauce and the tomatoes weren't as anemic as some you come across at this time of year.
A.S. ordered nachos. They looked pretty great, and the top layer was to her liking...but, as with many nachos throughout time, once you got past that top layer there wasn't a lot going on.
End thoughts? Perfectly nice place. Food wasn't really exciting (I didn't go for the burger that included a pork roll and scrapple, that could have been exciting...well heart stopping in any event) but the atmosphere was fine.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Orchids, Dog and Soup
On Sunday I spent a good part of my day wandering around the house taking pictures of things. I also was working on a soup for the return of Mr. Ass and his parents. On Saturday I turned the left over chickens into stock, which on Sunday I worked into a pretty good soup.
This is Pipo. I will admit that I have some longstanding issues with the Jack Russell breed. Or I thought I did. But these issues were entirely tempered by Pipo and Yma. This, in spite of the fact that the whole family had prepared me for some epic growling and dog fights based on everything from a mail man to positioning in the bed. I was certainly conscious of these possible triggers and did a was generally vigilant in my avoidance of them, but, still, I liked these two.
Here is the soup. It had the fresh stock as its base. I added a few cloves of garlic, chopped cilantro, salt, carrots and noodles. And maybe, like, four other things. Oh yes, the juice of one lemon. Simmered it for a long time then added the chicken. I really do love making chicken soup. Maybe because it seems like you can never go wrong. As long as you have a good base and moist, fresh meat, you can add anything to it and the chances of it turning out well, assuming you have good common taste sense, must be well in the 90th percentile. Mr. Ass and his father both, independently of one another, commented on how this would be a great soup if they had a cold. I would like to make chicken soup from scratch for someone with a cold. It would be cooking with a purpose. I think I like cooking best when it takes all day and it is the only thing I have to do.
This is Pipo. I will admit that I have some longstanding issues with the Jack Russell breed. Or I thought I did. But these issues were entirely tempered by Pipo and Yma. This, in spite of the fact that the whole family had prepared me for some epic growling and dog fights based on everything from a mail man to positioning in the bed. I was certainly conscious of these possible triggers and did a was generally vigilant in my avoidance of them, but, still, I liked these two. 
Here is the soup. It had the fresh stock as its base. I added a few cloves of garlic, chopped cilantro, salt, carrots and noodles. And maybe, like, four other things. Oh yes, the juice of one lemon. Simmered it for a long time then added the chicken. I really do love making chicken soup. Maybe because it seems like you can never go wrong. As long as you have a good base and moist, fresh meat, you can add anything to it and the chances of it turning out well, assuming you have good common taste sense, must be well in the 90th percentile. Mr. Ass and his father both, independently of one another, commented on how this would be a great soup if they had a cold. I would like to make chicken soup from scratch for someone with a cold. It would be cooking with a purpose. I think I like cooking best when it takes all day and it is the only thing I have to do.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Snow About Field
On Saturday morning I woke up very early, well, relatively early, and drove into Philadelphia because my pretty new computer and boots had been delivered on Friday, and I simply could not wait to see them and make them mine. I left a little after 8 and returned by 10:45. It was some of the lightest 95 traffic on that stretch that I have seen. Soon after my return, it began to rain. That rain then became sort of slushy before finally becoming wet snow. And snow it did for the rest of the day.
The next morning the snow began melting off quite quickly, but the light was still pretty and view pleasing to my set of eyeballs. I decided to take some photographs while trying out my new boots out in the world.
New boots! They kept my feet quite cozy and are much lighter than my last pair of warm-feet-making-waterproof-winter boots.
A little coat cuff vignetting.
The next morning the snow began melting off quite quickly, but the light was still pretty and view pleasing to my set of eyeballs. I decided to take some photographs while trying out my new boots out in the world.
New boots! They kept my feet quite cozy and are much lighter than my last pair of warm-feet-making-waterproof-winter boots.
A little coat cuff vignetting.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Soft Boiled Eggs on Toast
On Friday morning I soft boiled two eggs and gently placed them on a piece of buttered toast.
Topped with a bit of salt and pepper.
It was a lovely way to start the day. I really could do it every day. Perhaps that should be a small goal I set for myself: have eggs and toast for breakfast more often, not only on weekends in another setting.
Topped with a bit of salt and pepper.
It was a lovely way to start the day. I really could do it every day. Perhaps that should be a small goal I set for myself: have eggs and toast for breakfast more often, not only on weekends in another setting.
Scraps
Things written on scraps of paper, strewn about my desk:
To Do:
Worry not about the shape and size of the world.
Worry, instead, over the contents within the world.
Move forward through one hour and thirty six minute conversations with past friends.
Remember Amish Diners and strange vibes and electrical tape over car clocks.
(found on the back of a CVS/pharmacy receipt for a bottle of Dasani water)
No straws in your drink.
Let's make a scene.
My ears have gone numb from the performance of strangers.
Scottish strangers, some of whom, I'm sure, could help me lead a beautiful life.
We'd go on the road and make babies, and I'd take sub-par pictures, and they, the Scottish strangers, would rock 'n roll.
I would feel superior to, and threatened by, the girls dancing in their boots at the front of the stage, and wonder what happened to my youth.
(found on what looks like a receipt, except it is entirely blank on both sides)
To Do:
Worry not about the shape and size of the world.
Worry, instead, over the contents within the world.
Move forward through one hour and thirty six minute conversations with past friends.
Remember Amish Diners and strange vibes and electrical tape over car clocks.
(found on the back of a CVS/pharmacy receipt for a bottle of Dasani water)
No straws in your drink.
Let's make a scene.
My ears have gone numb from the performance of strangers.
Scottish strangers, some of whom, I'm sure, could help me lead a beautiful life.
We'd go on the road and make babies, and I'd take sub-par pictures, and they, the Scottish strangers, would rock 'n roll.
I would feel superior to, and threatened by, the girls dancing in their boots at the front of the stage, and wonder what happened to my youth.
(found on what looks like a receipt, except it is entirely blank on both sides)
You Were Burning Like A City In Electric Light
So I kept on getting entirely taken with the way the light was working the scene on Thursday, or maybe Friday. I would look up and exclaim to the dogs 'ooooh, the light!' and then run outside and take a photograph. Then, settling back to work, I would forget about the pretty...until I looked up again and I would squeal 'it's even prettier!' and repeat the process of slipping on shoes for one shot before returning back to the warmth of the kitchen.
Country Work, Kind Of
My employers were kind enough to allow me to work remotely for the two days of the week I was up in Bucks. So, for a short time, I was kind of living my dream life...only in someone else's house, which meant that it was better designed and decorated, and had more food on its shelves and in its refrigerator. And there were Jack Russel terriers to boot. I set up my office away from the office in the kitchen with a nice view of pretty.
This is Yma.
This first day was ridiculously lovely. I believe it definitely hit sixty degrees, if not more. I was pretty bummed that I couldn't spend more time out in it before the sun came down, but I was, after all, still working.
The pup on the upper right is Pipo. She is a girl dog, but lifts her leg to pee.
This is Yma.
This first day was ridiculously lovely. I believe it definitely hit sixty degrees, if not more. I was pretty bummed that I couldn't spend more time out in it before the sun came down, but I was, after all, still working.
The pup on the upper right is Pipo. She is a girl dog, but lifts her leg to pee.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Chicken Dinner and a Rusty Nail
Last Wednesday I went up to Bucks County to have dinner with Mr. Ass and his family before they departed for a long weekend in Florida, during which I would be watching their dogs, Yma and Pipo. D. made two chickens, which I believe she brined in some sort of magical brine solution that led to them being ridiculously moist and flavorful but not toooo salty. That, or she's just good at brining things. I have never tried it thus am amazed by anyone who can do in on a Wednesday. Wednesdays don't seem like good brining days somehow. Though I imagine that, on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the number of fowl in brine solution jumps quite significantly.
Oh man what lovely chicken. People continue to hate on my chicken tattoo idea, I continue to think about it occasionally, like the idea, but know I will probably never actually do it.
D. made a lovely cake, and as my birthday had happened earlier that week, or late the last, There was a candle in the leap of age's honor. Mr. Ass tried to light the candle back y the flame and the smoke (this is some sort of simple science thing I don't understand and am happy to leave as a non-religion based myrical). He did it one time, but I missed actually seeing it.
Then Mr. Ass and I went out to a local watering hole, the name of which I would supply if I remembered. I guess I could be proactive about this and googlemap it or ask Mr. Ass. Alas. Heh.
Mr. Ass ordered a rusty nail (question: does one capitalize established drink names/are drink names proper nouns?), which suddenly seemed like a very interesting choice of beverage. Mainly because I couldn't think of the last time I had one but knew exactly my glass was going to smell and taste like. Thank you to the whole Mr. Ass clan.
Oh man what lovely chicken. People continue to hate on my chicken tattoo idea, I continue to think about it occasionally, like the idea, but know I will probably never actually do it.
D. made a lovely cake, and as my birthday had happened earlier that week, or late the last, There was a candle in the leap of age's honor. Mr. Ass tried to light the candle back y the flame and the smoke (this is some sort of simple science thing I don't understand and am happy to leave as a non-religion based myrical). He did it one time, but I missed actually seeing it.
Then Mr. Ass and I went out to a local watering hole, the name of which I would supply if I remembered. I guess I could be proactive about this and googlemap it or ask Mr. Ass. Alas. Heh.
Mr. Ass ordered a rusty nail (question: does one capitalize established drink names/are drink names proper nouns?), which suddenly seemed like a very interesting choice of beverage. Mainly because I couldn't think of the last time I had one but knew exactly my glass was going to smell and taste like. Thank you to the whole Mr. Ass clan.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Dim Sum c/o Joy Tsin Lau
On Sunday C., L. and I went to Joy Tsin Lau for a round of lovely dim sum. Sticky rice was consumed.
As were these lovely fried taro ball things with mystery filling (I've had these countless times but I still don't really understand what they are).
Mmmmm gelatinous thick noodles with shrimpy shrimp on the inside and sweet sauce on the out...and now I want it.
And sesame balls for dessert.
Pleasing. Now if only I could make my Photoshop work these images wouldn't be so red. I'll stop talking about it.
As were these lovely fried taro ball things with mystery filling (I've had these countless times but I still don't really understand what they are).
Mmmmm gelatinous thick noodles with shrimpy shrimp on the inside and sweet sauce on the out...and now I want it.
And sesame balls for dessert.
Pleasing. Now if only I could make my Photoshop work these images wouldn't be so red. I'll stop talking about it.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Beers c/o Jack's Firehouse
Last Saturday I found myself at home feeling like I should be out. So, as any member of the new generation (I don't know what I mean by this), I went onto Facebook to kill time by seeing what other people were doing all over the country/world. I was surprised to find that one such Facebook friend was going to a musical event totally in my neighborhood. So, I commented upon this fact to B. and he responded and so I ended up meeting up with him and a bunch of his friends. B. and I hadn't seen each other in about ten years. I believe our last meeting was in Wales, when I was 19 and about to embark on my first, and only, European 'tour.' While we certainly didn't stay in touch, I remember B. fondly and the opportunity to catch up with him seemed like it would be far more fun than awkward, which, on the whole, it was. When I arrived I ordered a Troeg's Mad Elf and B.'s friend gave it bunny ears.
I switched to a lower alcohol content heifeweissen-y beer later on.
This photograph invokes the phrase 'double chin brigade' to me, but I mean no offense to B. (but take offense myself).
The music of the night, and the whole reason that B. and his friends were in my area was the Trailer Park Trio. I don't know how I feel about the name, but the music and dancing atmosphere it created was solid.
This dude danced with multiple ladies.
It was nice to see B. after a million years.
I also enjoyed the company of his friends K. and D.
And E.
Shots may have compromised the night a bit, but at least the new camera made it look a little prettier. Question: if you have been a relatively routine reader of the blog, have you any thoughts about the images as of late (it's okay if you haven't, I'm just wondering).
The bartender was good people too.
I look okay here. B. looks not so great. It's true. And even I look a fair bit of droopy-lidded McGee. Sigh.
An unexpected actual happening as a result of Facebook status updates.
I switched to a lower alcohol content heifeweissen-y beer later on.
This photograph invokes the phrase 'double chin brigade' to me, but I mean no offense to B. (but take offense myself).
The music of the night, and the whole reason that B. and his friends were in my area was the Trailer Park Trio. I don't know how I feel about the name, but the music and dancing atmosphere it created was solid.
This dude danced with multiple ladies.
It was nice to see B. after a million years.
I also enjoyed the company of his friends K. and D.
And E.
Shots may have compromised the night a bit, but at least the new camera made it look a little prettier. Question: if you have been a relatively routine reader of the blog, have you any thoughts about the images as of late (it's okay if you haven't, I'm just wondering).
The bartender was good people too.
I look okay here. B. looks not so great. It's true. And even I look a fair bit of droopy-lidded McGee. Sigh.
An unexpected actual happening as a result of Facebook status updates.
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