Food

I don't think of myself as a fancy cook. Talking to single people reminds me that, by comparison with them or previous-me, I really am.

I just sliced up some chicken to marinate in bourbon and chipotle powder. This sounds all fancy (and is), but it's mostly that the chicken's been sitting around for a couple of days and I'm going to cook it tonight. Bourbon will do a fine job of keeping it unspoiled between now and then, and then the alcohol will cook away.

Any microbes that can thrive in bourbon and chipotle pepper powder deserve to win over a lightweight like me, come to think of it.

The Joy of the Unexpected

It's wonderful cooking for me. 'Cause if I screw something up, I'm perfectly willing to eat it, even if it's not great.

When I made the quinoa stuff, it came out as a weird porridge/casserole thing. The bourbon chipotle chicken came out genuinely spicy.

I am engaging in the enormous luxury of experiments that are permitted to fail.

I'd still prefer to have Krissy and Shanna and Calli back here. But living the middle-aged boring geek faux-bachelor life still has its consolations.

Such as video games. The one I've been really looking forward to is scheduled to land on Friday.

Yay!