I feel sorry for people who don’t drink. When they wake up in the morning, that’s as good as they’re going to feel all day.
Thought for the day:
It seems to me that the aging process presents only two viable options to the high-strung, outgoing creative type, namely, either to mellow or surrender to the temptation to go all Bette Davis in the later years. Having recently relocated from New York to San Francisco, I’m working on getting my cool on, but I must admit it’s a struggle.
So which will it be, folks, battle the madness or start coloring outside the lines with my lipstick as we roll on into crazy town?
I think you know. I think we all do.
Another oldie but goodie. Bear with me folks. I’m relocating, and moving house is not as easy as it used to be.
Originally posted on Kitchen Slattern:
Love her or hate her, Miss Lawson is for many the original short-cut taking, taste-as-you-go then eat-with-abandon kitchen slattern, and for that alone I will always be a fan. I stumbled upon Nigella Bites in 2001 and loved the show’s clever editing, Nigella’s girlfriend-y chatter and her refreshingly relaxed approach to both cooking and eating.
Over the years, however, as the domestic goddess juggernaut picked up steam, I began to feel a creeping unease, and by the time we got to Nigella Express in 2007, the experience of watching her cook had begun to make me squirm, and not in a good way. With adjectives multiplying like randy bunnies and the chatter taking on a, how shall I say, slightly overheated feel, the experience became more than I could reasonably endure, at least without a partner.
Witness the foreplay for a chocolate raspberry pavlova recipe:
“You just cannot beat a
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