"Capricorns worry like no other sign. You can literally make yourself sick. Any illness you suffer is probably stress-induced, a result of holding too much inside or being too hard on yourself. Caps are prone to obsessive-compulsive disorder, depression and addictions, like Capricorn Kate Moss."
Kate Moss? What about Richard Nixon? Mel Gibson, Joseph Stalin, J.D. Salinger? Hermann Goering? Mao Tse Tung? You got addictions? We've got Elvis Presley. You want to talk obsessive-compulsive? How about J. Edgar Hoover? Howard Hughes?
The nice thing about being a depressed, obsessive-compulsive worrier is that when it turns out that the situation you are worried about is not nearly as dire as anticipated, that sigh of relief is worth all the money in the world. Until next time, anyway. Because we Cappies always have something to worry about. If we don't have something, we find it. Search it out. Dig for it. Imagine it.
So it turns out the auto da fe' was unnecessary, and all my worry with it's accompanying gastric disturbances and eye-piercing headaches, was for naught. Great! Let's move on then ...
The Spiral Galaxy sock is coming along nicely, nicely:
. . . and the Kink scarf is almost done. I've discovered the Donovan Creed crime series, written by John Locke - I'm not making this up, that is his name, or at least his nom de plume. I've zipped through his first three books, and then veered off into a completely new genre for me - vampire detectives. And I'm thinking about food. There are still lovely leftovers, including a styrofoam container filled with curried goat. I did not prepare the curried goat, nor have I tasted it. My husband has a number of clients from foreign countries, and some of them are unfailingly gracious. As a result, we are often the lucky recipients of Russian chocolates and wines, hand hooked rugs, and homemade curried goat. I really would like to try the goat - after all, I got brave enough to try alligator this past year, and then there was the incident with the frog's legs - but my husband has advised me, through the tears streaming down his face, that the curry was hot. Very hot. Incendiary. Which did it for me. No goat, sadly enough. At least not the curried goat prepared with loving hands by someone's dear old Bangladeshi mom. Just for once I wish I had an asbestos palate.
I still have some of the goat available to photograph. The smell wafting out from the box is intoxicating. You can see the rich curry color from the sauce. Bangladeshi Mom also provided a container of cooked basmati rice, and sliced tomatoes and cucumbers. I know my family has been enjoying it, bones and all.
The incident with the frog's legs took place at the Cock 'n Bull Restaurant in Lahaska, Pennsylvania. We were with our friends Vicki and Dan, and their daughter Mandy. My son Cory was a toddler, and Mandy must have been all of 7 or 8 at the time. We wanted to introduce our friends to the buffet there because we'd had so many wonderful meals over the years, off the menu, at the King Henry Feast, and the weekend buffet. The food was incredible. And I thought those were the sweetest, most tender chicken wings I'd ever eaten. You know where this is going, right?
Incidentally, if anybody has a recipe for the Cock 'n Bull apple dumpling with that incomparable vanilla sauce, please share it with me. I've been dreaming about them for over 30 years.
1971
Since I brought up Vicki and Dan, I should tell you that Vicki has been one of my best - maybe "the" best - cooking buddy I've had throughout my life. I met Vicki when we were assigned to be suitemates in DuBois Hall at SUNY New Paltz. That was 1971, and we've been friends ever since. We've also been sharing recipes since that time, and have learned a lot from each other. We both got married at about the same time - Rob and I in 1974 (and 1978), and Vicki and Dan in 1975. Back then, our favorite form of entertainment was to visit each other's homes and share a meal. I still think of this as Vicki's signature recipe. It is so simple, and so good and it never goes out of style.
2005
Cook like there's nobody watching, and eat like it's heaven on earth.
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