Personal Library: # 19, The Kitchen, Part 2

Book Tally So Far:  695

No. of Cookbooks on Kitchen Counter:  41 (Which means self definitely needs to knock off buying cookbooks)

695 + 41 = 736 Total Books Tabulated So Far

Cookbooks inlude:  Williams-Sonoma Essentials of Roasting;  Martha Stewart’s Hors d’OeuvresThe Official Presto Pressure Cooker CookbookEating Well For a Healthy Heart:  A Cardiologist’s Guide to Adding Years to Your Life, by Philip A. Ades, M.D. and the Editors of Eating WellPhilippine Recipes Made Easy, by Violeta A. Noriega (Self uses this one all the time, the recipes are pretty simple);  Fu Pei Mei’s Chinese CookingThe New York Times Cookbook for Special Occasions:  400 Recipes for Perfect Picnics, Parties, Brunches, Buffets, Romantic Dinners, Holiday Meals and Other Celebrations, by Jean Hewitt;  Reader’s Digest Secrets of Better Cooking:  A Treasury of Time Tested Methods of Good CookingMemories of Philippine Kitchens:  Stories and Recipes From Far and Near, by Amy Besa and Romy Dorotan;  The Philippine Cookbook, by Reynaldo Alejandro;  and Stirring the Pot, by Tyler Florence.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Personal Library 18: The Kitchen

The kitchen, naturally, contains cookbooks.  Lots of cookbooks.  Which might lead dear blog reader to think that self is a whiz at cooking.  Which unfortunately is not the case.

On the shelf directly above the refrigerator, self counts 10 cookbooks.

685 + 10 = 695 Total Books counted so far

On this shelf are:  Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volumes One and Two, by Julia Child, Simone Beck, and Louisette Bertholle; four Time/Life Foods of the World cookbooks, of which self’s favorite is The Cooking of Spain and Portugal, by ____  (They don’t give the authors, self presumes the book was put together by a committee); and a cookbook called, simply, Prosciutto, Pancetta, Salame, by Pamela Sheldon Johns, which self purchased years ago when she was signing books at the Los Angeles Festival of Books, and which she bought precisely because The Man was an ardent fan of prosciutto, pancetta, and salame.  Self has never tried a single recipe from this book, not even something as simple as the bresaola, Parmigiano, and pear salad, or peas with prosciutto, but that sounds like such a waste, so she immediately resolves that 2013 will be the year she cooks at least one recipe from this book, something simple like the goat cheese, salame and olive panini.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Byrne’s Manila Chapter: A Parade of Rich People, Trying Their Best to Impress

When self picked up Bicycle Diaries, by the Talking Heads’ David Byrne, she was so looking forward to reading it!

She’d heard all about how Byrne biked around famous cities of the world, trying to see people outside the prism of celebrity.  She was enchanted by the fact that one of these cities was Manila.

So what happened?  Byrne arrives in Manila, and he is immediately cornered by — the rich.

And he muses about power.

The rich Manileños impress him by taking him to a chicken restaurant that is small and not pretentious (but which is all the more pretentious, because it’s a chicken restaurant patronized by the rich, see?  But you’re not supposed to look as if you know you are rich and hanging out with David Byrne.  You’re supposed to look as if you don’t care, and as if eating in an unpretentious chicken restaurant is how you preen your “maka-masa” chops, and . . . )

OK, after chicken, Byrne is taken to a karaoke bar.  This at least is a place where no one can wheedle him into singing along with “Burning Down the House,” though someone does have the bad taste to try.  Then, one of his pretty, rich companions, (wearing plaid pants in subtle homage to Byrne’s appeal to nerdy American college kids —  you’d have to be really rich to pull off the plaid pants look, in Manila no less) starts to sing in an exuberant way.

Self would just like to say that Byrne is completely taken in by this crowd, and doesn’t meet any real plebes.  Hoy, Mr. Byrne, for your information, the Manila rich are not real Filipinos.  They’re Fake Americans.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Personal Library 17: Still the Dining Room

Self is still tabulating books in the dining room.  The books she just finished counting are on a small side table right in front of Bookcase # 1.

665 + 20 = 685 Total Books Tabulated So Far!

Still amazing!

And here are a few of the more interesting titles:  Cloud 9, a play by Caryl Churchill;  Author Law & Strategies:  A Special Guide for the Working Writer, by Brad Bunnin and Peter Beren;  The Sky Over Dimas, a Novel by Vicente Garcia Groyon; and The Superman Chronicles, Vol. 1:  Every Superman Story in Exact Chronological Order!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Salon.com on “Justified” Love

Today, in preparation for some really hard, serious intellectual teaching work (as opposed to the physical exertion of gardening in extreme cold and walking downtown and back), self did her usual perusal of her various e-mail accounts.  In her gmail “In” box was a notice from Salon.com alerting her to the latest articles, and when self saw something called “Raylan Givens Justified My Love” she didn’t need to be told twice, her fingers moved quicker than lightning and

OMG, dear blog readers, is this not the most gorgeous picture of Timothy Olyphant wearing the white Stetson?

Last Tuesday (Can it really have been a mere five days ago?) self waited all agog for Episode 1 of the 4th season of “Justified.”  She had to kick The Man off the HDTV in the living room, for it would have been such a waste to watch Timothy Olyphant on the teensy, old TV in son’s bedroom.

Winona seems to have gone bye-bye, permanently, and self is glad because the actress who played her was too thin.  (Self realizes this sounds extremely superficial.  But she is firm in her opinion that Raylan needs a real dame!  One with killer curves!)

There is of course Walton Goggins aka Boyd Crowder flashing his killer grin (Self recognized him immediately in Django Unchained, where he plays a stupider version of his Justified self), and of course Our Man Raylan, who still looks so adorable in those low-slung jeans.  Self wonders who this season’s Epic Bad-Ass will be.  She thinks Neal McDonough, Baddie of Season 3, was pretty good, but could not top Season 2’s Evil Matriarch Mags Bennett, and her equivally malevolent brood.

Anyhoo, here are some pertinent quotes from the Salon.com article, which is by Lorraine Berry:

  • “While Olyphant is a fiendishly handsome guy, I don’t feel an erotic attraction to Givens . . . ”  (Oh, SHUT UP, Ms. Berry!)
  • “For us, our interest in Justified commands that we not only make sure that we are home to keep our appointment with the show’s original viewing time, but then also leads us to watch the show the next night, on DVR, where we can stop it every few moments to discuss the last snippet of dialogue or to start to unpack the central conflict that drives the series.”  Why not just do what self does on Tuesday nights?  She watches the 10 p.m. show, then the repeat at 11 p.m., and even the second repeat which begins at midnight, until finally she falls asleep, the voice of Timothy Olyphant permeating her dreams . . .  (Woman, you need to get a hold on yourself!)

The article then goes on to “unpack” the following relationships:

Raylan and his boss, Art Mullen:  About this, self will refer dear blog readers to Season 1, when Raylan lost his white Stetson, and it somehow came into the possession of his boss, and the actor who plays Art Mullen, Nick Searcy, (who is, in self’s opinion, long overdue for an Emmy nomination) said:  “How’d you lose your hat?  You weren’t raped, were you?” or something to that effect.  Self knows this isn’t a funny line in print.  But you’d have to hear Nick Searcy deliver that line, and see the look on Timothy Olyphant’s face, to get the full comic import.

Raylan and Mags Bennett :  This relationship achieved glorious apogee in Season 2.  There is a scene where Raylan puts his hand against Mags Bennett’s chest, and the gesture comes off as, not rude, but firm.  How’d Olyphant manage that?  Again, dear blog readers, you’d have to see the scene with your own two eyes.

Then the article goes on and on and on and on and on, dissecting what the writer refers to as the “Raylan swagger.”  She’s not sure why the word “swagger” is used to describe Olyphant’s affect.  The man is pure sex appeal, that’s all.  If Quentin Tarantino played Raylan Givens, there’d be no article on Salon.com.  Olyphant is the Brad Pitt of television!

Oh and by the way, his deputy, the sharpshooter whose name self forgets, is also pretty cute.  And where’s Erica Taziel?  Self loves whenever episodes focus on her character.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

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