Das eez kaput! Sometime around 2002 I spaced the entire database table that mapped individual entries to categories. Such is life. What follows is a random sampling of entries that were associated with the category. Over time, the entries will be updated and then it will be even more confusing. Wander around, though, it's still a fun way to find stuff.
I came across
this
thanks to a friend who emailed the link with nothing more
than the words :
study hard...
Normally, any book aspiring to such Koolhaas-ian proportions — especially books about cooking; how fucking practical is something this big in the kitchen?! — will set off the bullshit detectors. Corn sorbet, anyone?
But this one came from someone whose opinion I trust so I pass it on to you with minimal commentary.
The sommelier and I got along fine after I told him that
I had absolutely no idea whether or not it took our bottle
of wine some time to
open up
but , yes, we liked it very much. We talked for a few
minutes about how and where to get wines that are imported
in to Québec but not sold at the
SAQ
and agreed that even if they are producing some decent wine
in Ontario it's still hard to feel good about buying
them.
The rest of the wait staff was not nearly so much fun. There seemed to be a different person for every aspect of our meal whether it was clearing the plates or bringing the bread or peddling desperately over-priced water . And they became visibly nervous when you asked them to do something that was, apparently, the domain of another waiter. I guess one of the side-effects of only being given one job is that you stand around all night waiting, with bated breath, for an opportunity to do it. I try to sympathize with situations like that but there is no getting around just how annoying it is while you're eating.
(No one thought to ask when the English had suddenly become the arbiters of quality fizzy water but by the end of the night we might have.)
I have good friends and the other night they took me to Les Chevres which only after being told many time that it was West of Parc Avenue did I figure out was in Outremont and not some tiny little spot tucked into the industrial buildings that ring the top of Mile End.
Les Chevres is supposed to be all the shit these days and they clearly went out of their way to hire designers to make it look that way. If you ignore the fact that they look a little too much like sheep you can sort of imagine the two goat silhouettes on the front window having a White Stripes album cover quality to them. Albeit Gap-ified and in delicate pastels. The kidney beans and other celular automata painted on the walls, also in passive-aggresive lime greens and bitter pinks, were kind of annoying but all the chairs had tasteful brown fun-fur! (Not a phrase I ever thought I'd say.)
The overall design is a bit heavy on the
intimidate anyone whose pocket book hasn't swollen their
self-esteem to new heights of arrogance and generally bad
behaviour
schtick, but it is otherwise a very nice and very elegant
place to eat a meal. Did I mention the fun-fur?
Whenever you read about this sort of fancy, high-end
restaurant, sooner or later you stumble over the word
innovation
. I'm all for innovation, in principle, but I am not
willing to overlook it's abuse as an all-purpose
get out of jail
card for the kind of intellectual navel-gazing that gave
the world colour-field painting.
I'm also always suspicious of the context; namely the rarified air that people who can afford to eat at these places, on a regular basis, breath. I'm sure that avocado soup — with oranges and cilantro, no less — seems innovative in the middle of the winter but I also go to the market every week and I know that this part of North America is enjoying a recent harvesting of avocados from Mexico or California.
It was very good, as were all the appetizers. At this point it's worth pausing, before I forget, to say these three words together : parsnip; toast; good. No, really.
Ask yourself : Is there anything that warm porcini mushrooms can't do?
[big plates, small food] — this is the place-holder I left myself while drafting this piece. It sums it up nicely but always leaves me wondering : Why do people who like to spend so much money eating out eat so little?
And why do French restaurants insist on trying to make
risotto? No one can deny the contribution the French have
made to the art, science and all-around good times when it
comes to food and the celebration thereof. But sweet Jesus,
can't they just accept the fact that this is the one dish
they are wholely unprepared to handle? You can dress it up
in tasty, carmelized
biologically pure
carrots but it's of dubious effort if you can't cook the
bloody rice
properly
!
Nothing was actually bad — I mean, except the risotto. My only disappointment was the sense that it could easily have been so much better and that the people in the kitchen didn't see any point in trying too hard. That is, it all tasted a bit too much like the art of opportunity rather than the art of eating.
At this point the waiters started trying to steal our wine glasses.
One of the bonuses of living in Québec is never having
to suffer the indignity of being told that the Brie de
Meaux has been pre-wrapped and
in the next aisle, below the grateables.
We may not have
l'Union Syndicale Interprofessionnelle de Défense du Brie
de Meaux
(I kid you not) but we do at least try to give cheese the
respect it properly deserves. In our case, we promptly
ordered another bottle of wine and started badgering the
table-monkeys for more bread.
We ordered a smattering of everything they brought to us on the cheese tray; a collection of chevres and tommes from France and Québec. The drama queen of the lot was an electric orange (some flavourless pigment which begs the question) cheese that reminded us of Parmesan in its taste and texture. Everyone else liked it but I prefered the semi-soft cheese from St. Jean.
Ask yourself: Who can you resist a sweaty goat cheese covered in ash?
In the end a good time was had by all and we sauntered out, smugly and in search of vanilla ice cream, confident that I could make a better dessert.
It's hard to know what to use as a pullquote there are so many good ones.
All the evidence suggests that I am incapable of cooking for just two people. As it sometimes happens, this turned out to be terrible gnocchi so it's not like you missed anything.
Do you suppose taking pictures of food robs it of its flavour?
<r:ingredient>
<r:Ingredient>
<!--...-->
</r:Ingredient>
</r:ingredient>Resource but the set of directions are a Collection and individual ingredients don't appear to be anything at all.Sorry for all the shit talk. But the sand and the stink and the shit are on my mind. Those poor kids, those poor fuckers. Oh, America, you break my heart. You beast, you nurse, you lover. Great conflicted bloody mess.
DocBook now has a DTD for producing slides. The DocBook project provides XSL stylesheets for creating slideshow presentations in HTML.
Instead of using HTML for presenting slides, this XSL stylesheet creates an SVG document that presents the slideshow. The idea is to have a slideshow presentation that (at least) mimics MS Powerpoint. In time, we hope to make the stylesheet create SVGs that are rich in features and allow for much flexibility in the presentation, such as non-linear slideshows.
Stasis \Sta"sis\, n. [NL., fr. Gr. ? a standing still.] (Physiol.) A slackening or arrest of the blood current in the vessels, due not to a lessening of the heart's beat, but presumably to some abnormal resistance of the capillary walls. It is one of the phenomena observed in the capillaries in inflammation. web1913
stasis n 1: an abnormal state in which the normal flow of a liquid (such as blood) is slowed or stopped 2: inactivity resulting from a static balance between opposing forces wn
Extirpate \Ex"tir*pate\ (?; 277), v. t. [imp. & p. p. {Extirpated}; p. pr. & vb. n. {Extirpating}.] [L. extirpatus, exstirpatus, p. p. of extirpare, exstirpare; ex out + strips stock, stem, root.] To pluck up by the stem or root; to root out; to eradicate, literally or figuratively; to destroy wholly; as, to extirpate weeds; to extirpate a tumor; to extirpate a sect; to extirpate error or heresy. Syn: To eradicate; root out; destroy; exterminate; annihilate; extinguish. web1913
extirpate v 1: destroy completely, as if down to the roots; "the vestiges of political democracy were soon uprooted" [syn: {uproot}, {eradicate}, {exterminate}] 2: pull up by or as if by the roots; "uproot the vine that has spread all over the garden" [syn: {uproot}, {deracinate}, {root out}] wn
Persiflage \Per`si`flage"\, n. [F., fr. persifler to quiz, fr. L. per + siffler to whistle, hiss, L. sibilare, sifilare.] Frivolous or bantering talk; a frivolous manner of treating any subject, whether serious or otherwise; light raillery. --Hannah More. web1913
persiflage n : light teasing wn
A derivative of the word "bust." Used in place of any verb.
ex. Buss me them shades, daddy-o. Hey, when you get a chance can you buss me a beer from the fridge? Buss me that can of Vienna Sausages there, pard.see also : buss dict-ified
Precipice \Prec"i*pice\, n. [F. pr['e]cipice, L. praecipitium, fr. praeceps, -cipitis, headlong; prae before + caput, capitis, the head. See {Pre-}, and {Chief}.] 1. A sudden or headlong fall. [Obs.] --Fuller. 2. A headlong steep; a very steep, perpendicular, or overhanging place; an abrupt declivity; a cliff. Where wealth like fruit on precipices grew. --Dryden. web1913
precipice n : a very steep cliff wn
Vociferous \Vo*cif"er*ous\, a. [Cf. F. vocif[`e]re.] Making a loud outcry; clamorous; noisy; as, vociferous heralds. -- {Vo*cif"er*ous*ly}, adv. -- {Vo*cif"er*ous*ness}, n. web1913
vociferous adj : conspicuously and offensively loud; given to vehement outcry; "blatant radios"; "a clamorous uproar"; "strident demands"; "a vociferous mob" [syn: {blatant}, {clamant}, {clamorous}, {strident}] wn
Quondam \Quon"dam\, n. A person dismissed or ejected from a position. [R.] ``Make them quondams; . . . cast them out of their office.'' --Latimer. web1913
quondam adj : belonging to some prior time; "erstwhile friend"; "our former glory"; "the once capital of the state"; "her quondam lover" [syn: {erstwhile(a)}, {former(a)}, {once(a)}, {onetime(a)}, {quondam(a)}, {sometime(a)}] wn
Or “What is up with the bagel meme going around these days?”
Dean Allen writes :
This is true but it remains hard to believe that such a moment can be found in Vancouver whatever other merits the city may enjoy.
In typical fashion, the New York Times gets all hot and bothered about itself claiming :
I like New Yorkers. Really, I do. I like them more than the bread donuts they so famously pass off as bagels, that much is for sure.
Insert stock Canadian hand-wringing about how our friends to the South don't properly appreciate us :
Imagine that.
Andy Huang writes :
Oop ack splat Fttttttpppppppppppppppppppppp!!!!!!!!!
Mark Pilgrim, on the subject of so-called “carb-counting” bagels, writes :
This pretty much sums it up for anyone from Montréal when presented with one of those dense and heavy steriod-rings that the rest of world calls a “bagel”.