NEARLY SILENT SATURDAY

Photo on my street, actually taken this past Thursday.

The clouds brought a bit of snow.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Hello again.

One instruction today: don't anyone comment with "OK Boomer".

I just learned what it means.

You fellow seniors, just Google it.

It snowed here last night so let us begin with . . .

And on that cheery note, I shall bring this period of hilarity to a close with the advice to all of you to enjoy yourselves and have a spectacular weekend.

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(ooooooh, now that's a bit snarky)

FRENCH APPLE CAKE

One of the blogs I follow is that of David Lebovitz, the former pastry chef at Chez Panisse restaurant in California and for a number of years now an expatriate in Paris.

He brings not only the taste of Paris but the tastes of French cuisine, most often as interpreted by an American.

He wrote on his blog about another American living in Paris, Dorie Greenspan, and her recipe for a French Apple Cake.

The recipe looked simple enough for an amateur home cook like me so yesterday I tried it.

It turned out well and I had a wee slice of it last night after dinner.

With a splash of whipped cream it was pretty darned good, if I do say so myself.

THROWBACK THURSDAY (ON WEDNESDAY)

Back in the day when I was skinny, had dark hair, a reddish beard.

Sometime in the late 1980's in Guadalajara, Mexico.

Gadfrey!

That's over 30 years ago!

Check out that computer and that monitor with green letters on a black screen.

Would it have been a Commodore 64?

I can't remember.

But I remember that cat.

Our beloved Chulapay (Mexican slang for Cutie Pie).

She loved the warmth from that lamp.

I was, as usual, into a vodka and water it appears.  

What you can't see is my ashtray and pack of cigarettes.

Ah, those were the days.

I had lunch yesterday at the Pie Place with a couple of colleagues from my days in Phoenix television news.

After hearing many of the tales of our rollicking times, I said then and I say now as I look at the photo above, "How in hell did we survive to our present old age?"

It's a mystery.

IS IT REALLY MONDAY?

We went on a shopping trip today.

Costco and Trader Joe's.

Dinner tonight: Lobster Bisque, Croissants, Kalamata Olives, way too much Pinot Grigio.

How old must we get to learn the wickedness of our ways?

Never mind.

Our tummies and our faces are happy.

OSSO BUCO

I finished the leftover Osso Buco from our New Year's Day meal for dinner last night.

Incidentally Google Translate tells me that Osso Buco translates simply to Braised Veal.

Although this . . .

. . . looks like ours, this is simply a stock picture from the Internet.

And I didn't have mine on polenta.

But the reason for this blog post is to clear up some apparent misconceptions among my commenters.

Our Osso Buco came pre-cooked and frozen, in a package from Costco.

It only took about 20 minutes in a hot oven to heat it up.

I apologize if I unintentionally misled you Gentle Readers about the cooking abilities in my house.

And, though it sounds like a tv dinner now, I will add that whoever prepared this did a heckuva job.

It was delicious, even more so the second time around.

If you want to make it from scratch there are many recipes on the Internet.

Or you can cheat a little like we did and find it in the frozen foods section of your supermarket.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

And now, as someone wrote this morning, it's the Roaring 20's once again.

And the cartoonist apparently can't spell the word "legibly".

But be that as it may, welcome to 2020, Gentle Readers, bewildered and bedazzled by the bureaucratese balderdash.

But don't be a blockhead, it's the weekend and here's hoping you all have a fabulous one.

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .