Emchap's Shit from the Internet 6/14/17 🍠
I wound up sitting at lunch today with two Brits (one a long-time US resident), a Spaniard who lives in Australia, an Australian who previously lived in Austin, and a dude from Long Island. We wound up on the subject of food, and guys, I brought up biscuits and gravy (#dirtysouth hey) and it was amazing.
Initially we started with clarifying what biscuits were, because of course the Europeans were thinking cookies, and so we wound up specifying that they're sort of bready scone things—no, not like American scones, they're not sweet, they're just sort of bread but better, and I very politely didn't insult the culinary traditions of the northeast—and we all sort of settled on mental models.
And then we got to the gravy component, leading to the Spaniard asking what gravy is, and one of the Brits answering that it's like you put on Sunday roast, the meat dripping bit, and before I could point out that that's not quite the same as what I meant the Spaniard very politely went "Oh. We have... olive oil?" which derailed things for a minute because what a great response.
Then of course I had to explain white gravy and that it's not pan dripping gravy exactly, and I wound up pulling up a photo and then everyone was horrified because it is a hard-to-photograph food, and all things considered it was a pleasantly multicultural lunch.
(PLUS we learned that the former commonwealth folks apparently have some sort of industrial pancake making machine that just sort of extrudes pancakes? Which horrified all the Americans, it was great, and now I want one obviously.)
Shit to read
I and everyone else read Samantha Irby's We are Never Meeting in Real Life this weekend, and it was great and funny and sad and I recommend it entirely. In the meantime, go read "My Mother, My Daughter," a piece of her that reduces me to inconsolable sobs every time I re-read it.
The Toast has been gone for a year; go read the Mallory Ortberg profile and "Everything That's Wrong of Raccoons."
An OBGYN delivered a baby gorilla!
Did you know antidepressants were originally intended as TB meds, because I sure as fuck didn't.
This is a good article about plants and home and sadness.
Shit to eat
It's hot.
Just, oh my god, so hot.
Why does anyone live here.
Get 1/4 cup of tequila and pour it into a cup.
Add some blueberries (washed).
Mash it all together.
Top up the cup with Gosling's ginger beer (you can use other kinds but they are worse).
Add some ice cubes.
Take some bragging photos and send them to your family and hope the current of "oh god, why did I move here, this was the wrong call, I miss home, I could buy a house" doesn't come through too strongly.
Pop in front of a fan, the knob to hold it in fixed position of which has disappeared, and consume while being intermittently cooled and watching the last season of Girls.
Shit to listen to
I miss when Anthropologie made playlists. Listen to this summer one in the interim.
Shit to buy
This truly perfect amber glass cookware set.
A fancy personal blender for summer smoothies/f'rosé.
An outdoor kimono.
A caftan. Fuck it.