Gay Marriage is or soon will be legal in 9 states and D.C. This map shows each state’s policy on same sex marriage.
Finally, a map. I need everything broken down this way. Bit too much mustard on it for my taste, but at least it’s clear.
Making chicken stock (and missing my grandmother) using the feet and necks of New Hampshire breed chickens from a farm i visited a few weeks ago, Moon In The Pond. the farmer talked to me for a half hour about his journey from the genetically screwed industrial cornish-cross breed that grew explosively but began to suffer from lameness at five weeks and toppled over from breast heaviness or heart attacks at seven weeks even outdoors in the best conditions, to this labor intensive and truly welfare-oriented breed, which he now raises to a whopping 16 weeks, all on pasture and kitchen scraps.
Here’s the recipe. Adapted from mark bittman:
For the weeks leading up to making stock, save the ends and skins and bits from cooking all your veggies. I had the tops of three leeks, a few old onions and shallots, skins on, old carrots and carrot tops, old thyme, ends of Brussels sprouts… Or if you decide to do this last minute just buy an onion a few carrots, celery etc.
Brown the chicken. I was just using the necks and feet, but you could of course use the whole chicken or chicken parts (with bone). Brown whatever parts have meat on them (necks not feet in my case) with olive oil in a big pot. Add in roughly chopped veggies, cover with water, about 14 cups to three lbs of chicken, to give an idea. add bay leaf and whole black pepper corns. I happened to have some Parmesan rinds, I threw them in. Being to a boil ten lower heat so it’s simmering, skim any foam that appears. Cook in total about an hour, more if you want more flavor. Store/freeze in Tupperware or freeze in ice trays and pop them into bags, to use in smaller portions.
Something new in the air today, perhaps the struggle of the bud to become a leaf. Nearly two weeks late it invaded the air but
then what is two weeks to life herself? On a cool night there is
a break from the struggle of becoming. I suppose that’s why we
sleep. In a childhood story they spoke of the land of enchant-
ment.” We crawl to it, we short-lived mammals, not realizing that we are already there. To the gods the moon is the entire moon but to us it changes second by second because we are always fish in the belly of the whale of earth. We are encased and can’t stray from the house of our bodies. I could say that we are released, but I don’t know, in our private night when our souls explode into a billion fragments then calmly regather in a black pool in the forest, far from the cage of flesh, the unremitting “I.” This was a dream and in dreams we are forever alone walking the ghost road beyond our lives. Of late I see waking as another chance at spring.
By Jim Harrison
Music for a rainy saturday, from a clear but knife-sharp friday night.
If this blog goes silent for a bit it’s because I’m busy moving to Maine. Sedgwick, to be precise.
Sedgwick, Maine has done what no other town in the United States has done. The town unanimously passed an ordinance giving its citizens the right “to produce, process, sell, purchase, and consume local foods of their choosing.” This includes raw milk, locally slaughtered meats, and just about anything else you can imagine. It’s also a decided bucking of state and federal laws.
If citizens in enough towns in enough states stand up and take a stand on their local food system based on their inalienable right to produce and choose the food they eat, the Fed might have to listen! What a concept.
From a local-food-loving, small-farmer-supporting, red-tape-cutting, farm-to-mouth-expediting level i see this as badass and awesome. From an animal welfare perspective, it can be a great thing, less/no transport stress on animals as they’re killed on farm, by the farmers who raised them, cared for them, and have the most stake in their wellbeing and stress-free death as that will produce the best product. But i’ll admit it gets scary quickly if farmers aren’t skilled enough or don’t have the correct equipment to administer a fast, painless death, not to mention potential health hazards if equipment/processing rooms aren’t sterilized. But that’s like saying it’s better to die in a hospital because there are professionals around, or that you have less risk of getting sick in a hospital. Both not necessarily true. Germs abound. Concentrations of animals and machinery make for stress on both animal and worker, mistakes happen, things are automated and speed is the priority, care is not taken because the worker has no attachment to the animal or the product… point being, overall, i’d move to Sedgwick. Would you?
Weeekend baking, to be served with a half pound of rum spiked whipped cream.
4 oz semisweet chocolate
8 TB (1 stick) unsalted butter
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
1/2 cup cocoa powder
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup sugar
Powdered sugar, for dusting
Heat oven to 350 F. Place a baking pan half full of water in oven.
Bring a saucepan of water to barely simmering. Place chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl. Place over water and stir until almost melted. Remove bowl from heat and let cool, stirring occasionally.
Sift together twice all the dry ingredients except sugar. Set aside.
Beat eggs and vanilla until foamy. Add sugar and beat until fluffy. Stir in chocolate-butter mixture. Fold in dry ingredients. Pour batter into five 8-oz custard cups or ramekins, filling nearly to rim. Place in baking pan; water should come halfway up sides of cups.
Bake for 30 minutes, or until brownie tops are cracked and firm to the touch. Let cool for 5 minutes, then serve dusted with powdered sugar.
Makes 5 servings.
The XX performs a tiny desk concert of Angel and Sunset so delicately and deliberately it is almost painful to listen. Almost.
blizzard music: jim james
babe, let’s get one thing clear: there’s much more stardust when you’re near.
I think, i’m really being sincere. I want a new life, a new life, with you.
and you know, it won’t come easy. and what’s more, it’s worth working for.
Blog post from my partner in crime from last weekend’s adventure to MoMA PS1. Why rewrite what has been written?
Complex Magazine recently put out a piece entitled The 50 Coolest Places in New York City Right Now. It’s decidedly my new go-to. Between moving and job searching and job juggling, I’ve been itching to explore and tackling this list is as purposeful a start as any.
Today I checked the M. Wells Dinette at MoMA PS1 in Long Island City. Here’s why you should go too: It’s dressed up like a school cafeteria but with a chalkboard menu boasting oysters and offals alongside seemingly banal dishes like cauliflower soup. But it turns out even the cauliflower soup is a show stopper, tasting like it was cooked with a whole ham hock but really getting it’s brothy, porky flavor from smoked marcona almonds. It arrived drizzled with an intense olive oil, chives, and a line of the potent almonds. Add in a crusty baguette and what more could you ask for as a precursor to MoMA’s three floors of exhibits?
New York City has many merits, but being easily conquered isn’t one of them. This city’s streets hold a myriad of secrets. So many, in fact, that even after living here for a decade, you can expect to regularly stumble on tiny treasures lurking just blocks away.
Luckily for you, we take exploring these streets very seriously. Here, find our favorites, both old and new, known and obscure.
Read the whole article here.
The best. The BEST!
This is a poem about
how you never get the kiss you want
when you want it;
how time twines around your neck, its thorns
digging into your skin so you can never forget
how clinging to a string of hope, threading it
between your spine, and having it unravel before you
in the span of an hour
“Here’s what our parents never taught us:
You will stay up on your rooftop until sunlight peels away the husk of the moon
chain-smoking cigarettes and reading Baudelaire,
and you will learn that you only ever want to fall in love with someone
who will stay up to watch the sun rise with you.
I dont know who this poet is but I am in literary love.