Monday, February 5, 2018
The ingredients are simply dark chocolate (real dark chocolate), pretzels and sea salt. The short, straight, thin pretzel pieces (not the curved minis pictured) sit in a flat chocolate bark, providing a much higher chocolate/pretzel ratio than the usual chocolate-covered, twisted pretzel. A 10 oz. package costs $8.99 at Fairway Market, 2131 Broadway. At $14.38 a pound, you get a lot of chocolate for your money, but much less less salty crunch. You decide.
Fortunately, the overlap is minimal.
Thanks to Republican Congressman Devin Nunes for demonstrating his investigative and analytic skills. I hope that he turns his attention next to bit coins.
. . .
We returned to Earth today from a weekend in an alternate universe, Super Bowl-obsessed suburban Boston. The majority of families seen out in public were bedecked in New England Patriots garb, mother, father, Jack and Jill. The late night news broadcasts were similarly preoccupied. They were just about 30 solid minutes of Super Bowl. Even the weather forecast toggled between Boston and Minneapolis, as if a local viewer was likely to be catching a last minute flight to Minneapolis for the big game.
Boston's tunnel vision continued long after Philadelphia's upset victory. The game ended about 10:20 P.M., Eastern Standard Time. All three local affiliates of the major networks, ABC, CBS and NBC (I have no use for or knowledge of the F-word network), each immediately had a team picking apart what had transpired for the preceding hours. None of the stations paused for any news at 11 o'clock and kept churning out nuggets of inanity until at least midnight, when, tiring of twirling channels to find something of transcendent interest, I shut the television.
Tuesday, February 6, 2018
You don't have to be Jewish to enjoy this story from a Jewish woman acquaintance who had to travel to Chicago alone during Passover. She was pleased to receive a dinner invitation from an aunt and uncle and was reassured after she advised them of her vegetarianism. Dinner was served and, respecting her religious and personal scruples, she was presented with a healthy portion of spaghetti with clam sauce.
. . .
. . .
The Boyz Club eschewed spaghetti with clam sauce, but seemed to eat everything else in sight today at Jing Fong, 20 Elizabeth Street, the giant dim sum establishment. At first I announced that I would record everything that we ate, but the speed that dishes hit the table overwhelmed me. I was only able to recap when the check came: 22 plates, probably 14 distinct dishes, 8 duplicates. Lunch cost the six of us $19 each, including a generous tip, as always.
Thursday, February 8, 2018
Andy Borowitz reports that the "Pentagon has turned down Donald J. Trump’s request for a grand military parade in Washington, D.C., citing a sudden outbreak of bone spurs that would prevent men and women in uniform from participating."
Andy Borowitz reports that the "Pentagon has turned down Donald J. Trump’s request for a grand military parade in Washington, D.C., citing a sudden outbreak of bone spurs that would prevent men and women in uniform from participating."
. . .
Kungfu Kitchen, 805 8th Avenue, sits one door away from Real Kung Fu Little Steamed Buns, 811 8th Avenue, an unrelated enterprise. Both are very small, KfK holds about a dozen two tops and cramped four tops. At 1 PM, every table was occupied, at least in part. I ordered Kung Fu Noodle w/ Special Spicy Sauce ($9.75), lo mein, minced pork, chives, peanuts, and red pepper flakes, hot stuff. I also had Pan-Fried Bun w/ Egg & Chives ($5.95 for 2 pieces), looking like large empanadas, rather bland tasting. The menu had another dozen and a half dim sum items that seem worth trying next time. The only inhibition is the $6 charge for a pot of tea. On the other hand, KfK simplifies matters by adding 15% to the bill as a tip.
Friday, February 9, 2018
I thought that I would tie up some loose ends from last week. First, the matter of photographs appearing in newspaper death notices, something that aroused no interest whatsoever, giving me license to explore freely. I asked whether you would choose to have a picture of a younger you or an older you appear posthumously. Today's New York Times offers an interesting variation on the issue. It carries two long death notices of a distinguished attorney, who lived 93 years. Each was illustrated with a photograph, different photographs, each reflective of the source, although in both he is dressed in very lawyerly fashion. One submission came from his firm, one of the most powerful in the world. I would guess that it showed him at no more than 60 years old, serious gaze, mouth firm. The other, from his family, showed him 15-20 years later, with a friendly grin, "Come, sit down." I am glad that he was able to muster a pleasant expression after decades immersed in the cutthroat world of Wall Street law.
Next, there's the issue of chocolate-covered pretzels. I explained the need to seek real chocolate-covered pretzels, preferably dark chocolate, avoiding the brown Crisco versions. Right afterwards, I came across an interesting alternative, barkTHINS, infelicitously named, but quite delicious.
The ingredients are simply dark chocolate (real dark chocolate), pretzels and sea salt. The short, straight, thin pretzel pieces (not the curved minis pictured) sit in a flat chocolate bark, providing a much higher chocolate/pretzel ratio than the usual chocolate-covered, twisted pretzel. A 10 oz. package costs $8.99 at Fairway Market, 2131 Broadway. At $14.38 a pound, you get a lot of chocolate for your money, but much less less salty crunch. You decide.
. . .
Except during my first marriage, I've led a dog-free existence. My starter wife owned a toy Pomeranian when I met her, kept him throughout our seven-year marriage, and had him depart her life well after I did. He actually was a pleasant little fellow, not given to the yippiness typical of his breed. We coexisted fairly well; at least neither of us took the other to court. However, once apart, I had no inclination to replace him in my life. Sharing almost any ordinary New York apartment with another person is challenge enough, adding a four-legged friend would push me into witness protection. Therefore, I approach this article about New York's favored breeds with only modest curiosity. https://www.nytimes.com/
Except during my first marriage, I've led a dog-free existence. My starter wife owned a toy Pomeranian when I met her, kept him throughout our seven-year marriage, and had him depart her life well after I did. He actually was a pleasant little fellow, not given to the yippiness typical of his breed. We coexisted fairly well; at least neither of us took the other to court. However, once apart, I had no inclination to replace him in my life. Sharing almost any ordinary New York apartment with another person is challenge enough, adding a four-legged friend would push me into witness protection. Therefore, I approach this article about New York's favored breeds with only modest curiosity. https://www.nytimes.com/
The data comes from the city's Department of Health and Mental Hygiene’s dog license registrations from 2012 to 2016. Besides the data by breed, Yorkshire terrier #1, and geographic distribution, lap dogs and pit bulls rarely occupy the same zip code, I found the names given to dogs very interesting, although ultimately inexplicable. With no provision for gender fluidity, male Max (3,990) edges out female Bella (3,985) as the most popular name, followed by male Rocky (2,769), female Lola (2,677) and male Charlie (2,590). For comparison, here are 2017's favorite baby names. http://www.babynamewizard.com/
Fortunately, the overlap is minimal.
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