Emchap's Shit from the Internet 06/15/22 🍠
A friend today was saying to me this week that she wasn’t feeling well, and that as best as she could tell, it was simply existential malaise manifesting in general physical blech. Today, after a long and mostly boring workday, I went out to a bar, got one (1) drink, and slept for an hour, which I never do. Whatever’s in the air is catching, it seems like.
Even the weather, which was blessedly sunny yesterday, is back to some June gloom-ass grey today. At this point, it feels like everyone’s trying to white knuckle it to July and crossing their fingers the Willamette doesn’t make a break for it and take out the waterfront.
It’s particularly weird because I had a brief moment of energy this week and cooked a bunch of things with spring produce, all of which were tremendous. (I’m just buying from Whole Foods, not a farmer’s market, so I’m sure none of it is as fresh as I think it is, but it at least makes me feel better to be cooking somewhat seasonally.) It’s hard to get excited about perfect strawberries when the general environmental vibe is a whole Grey Havens-ass mood.
I was reminded that Pride is this weekend, so hopefully things will cheer up by then and we’ll have sun and a minimum of Proud Boys, which feels like the best one can hope for at this point.
Shit to read
I was heartened by this piece on a bunch of Texan clergy working together to ensure abortion needs for members of their communities are met.
Enjoyed this piece on evangelism and the author’s eating disorder; I am reminded again that many female saints had stated patterns of fasting that would likely qualify them for an anorexia diagnosis today.
Fuck Louis C.K., but this piece was interesting for me, as I was unaware that the French really don’t do stand up.
Everyone should be paying attention to their local school boards.
This piece is several years old at this point, but I enjoyed seeing how multiple people would spend $30 at Whole Foods, since it’s the grocery store I use. (Less because I’m a bougie bitch and more because it’s the only one that’s really convenient to my house without a car.) I will say I think my grocery bill was lower this week for having read it.
Shit to eat
Buy a bunch of asparagus in a fit of Seasonal Eating, and when you return home, blanch it in salted water and freeze it on a baking sheet. You will feel vaguely magical about the fact that the pieces stay separate.
Toss the remainder of some milk that’s about to go off into a pot with some heavy cream; bring it to just below a simmer and add salt and lemon juice and let it sit. When it doesn’t curdle for some-ass reason, repeat the process, but add vinegar. After 10 minutes of round two, pop it into some cheese cloth and let it strain. Put it into the fridge. Feel like Baba Yaga.
The next day, move a pound of that asparagus to the fridge to thaw.
At lunch, make that same galette dough from last week, except this time don’t fuck up the measurements due to your recipe saver having barfed on the recipe formatting.
Admire how much easier the dough is to handle if you make it right.
In the evening, take the asparagus salt it, realize you should have started this an hour ago, and let it sit in a colander for 15 minutes. Roll it in a dish cloth to dry it out as best you can.
Roll out your gallette dough into a 16 inch let’s-call-it-a-circle.
Mix your ricotta with a cup of other grated cheeses, trying to minimize the amount of your fingers that go in the mix due to poor grater technique.
Spread the cheese onto the dough, toss your asparagus with some olive oil and pepper and lemon juice, and toss it on top.
Fold up the edges, painstakingly transport it to a baking sheet, and egg wash the sucker.
Into the oven at 400 for 35 minutes.
The recipe says this is 8 servings; and it is lying. But it is very good.
Shit to watch
This woman’s ASMR videos are really the only thing keeping me going.
Shit to buy
I have a work retreat coming up and needed some swimsuits that were as work appropriate as a spandex version of my underwear can be, so I got this stripey boi and this long-sleeve number (both have straight-size equivalents). Hopefully reasonably cute and reasonably unlikely to show my junk to my colleagues, plus if the sleeved one works out I’ll be delighted as someone who is forever burning her shoulders outside.