You’ll never believe this.
The Professor remains determined to pursue his interest in Indian cookery, although this is becoming less and less like a chapter out of Julia Child and more and more like The Quest for the Holy Grail (you are welcome to decide on your own if the Monty Python version is the one I refer to).
Indian cuisine calls for a host of spices I do not ordinarily stock in my cabinets, so this past week has been a hunter-gatherer mission for finding cumin seeds, whole nutmeg, cardimon and cinnamon sticks. We needed a mortal and pestal. And a nutmeg grinder. And a food processor. We needed new spice racks to store all these spices. We’ve looked at dozens of cookbooks without making a purchase. We have lentils and
We interupt this regularly scheduled entry to report that one of my “deliveries” escaped from its truck and ran headfirst into the side of my car. Plant security has just taken the damage report, but there is debate as to whether the truck driver or my company is responsible for my car. Meanwhile, there is a dent the size of two of my fists in the front left panel of my car, with the paint cracked and metal exposed. We now return you to your regularly scheduled entry.
Ever have one of those days? Anyhow, where was I? Ah yes, lentils.
We have lentils and some “prefab” spice mixes, and whatever else The Professor has brought and squirreled away at home. Friday night is supposed to be the Big Step where he makes his first dish, lentil soup. I’m glad he’s trying something relatively easy, but I still worry. He’s going to be using brand new kitchen equipment for the first time, and he is not a patient man. I don’t know if I want to be home for this or not.
I watched the Kitten from Hell make the leap to the top of the curio cabinet last night, while we were watching “Enterprise”. She refused to come down even when she realized she’d been discovered. I am too short to reach her there, so I kept blasting her with the squirt bottle. The only part of her anatomy showing was her butt, which got soaked with lemon water (KfH doesn’t mind getting wet, so we’re trying to up the ante by putting something in the water she might find unpleasant.) When I couldn’t get her to budge, The Professor took over; he’s taller so he was able to get some shots in to her face. KfH finally jumped down, but I don’t think we convinced her that the top of the curio is not her own personal domain.
I desparately need to go home and play several dozen mind-numbing games of Snood.