04 February 2010

It's hard to cook when you're sad.

So, Hi friends. I got dumped juuuust a few days over a month ago, so that's why I never posted a single thing all through-out January. I was simply too depressed to eat, and too depressed to cook. I did, however, do a lot of drinking. I also learned a few things during my pathetic attempts to conjure up something edible on the stove through tears. Please, allow me to share some of them with you. But before that, let me share my new favourite song, which pretty much sums up exactly how I feel right now. Thank you, pop music.

When I met you, I was just a kid
Hadn't built up my defenses
So I gave my heart completely
Vaseline over the lenses

Memories don't go away
I remember every day

I never, ever stop wondering
Wondering if you still think of us
I don't need a photograph
Because you've never left my mind
No, you've never left my mind

I remember feeling like a ship
Whose captain was too drunk to steer
And you watched as I was sinking
Waving sadly from the pier

Memories don't go away
I remember every day

I never, ever stop wondering
Wondering if you still think of us
I don't need a photograph
Because you've never left my mind
No, you've never left my mind

It's such a burden to carry around
The vestiges of dead dreams
And I don't want to make a wake out of my life
I just have to let you go



Nice, right?

So, here's what we learned in the past few weeks: A 7-cup capacity Cuisinart does not have enough space for a double-batch of our favourite easy-ass cookies. (Did you know they can go in the Cuisinart? It's actually a Cuisinart recipe, and it's so easy to do when you don't have to mix anything by hand!) Anyway, on top of that, we also learned that the blades of the brand-new Cuisinart are VERY, verrrryyyyyy sharp. So sharp, in fact, that whilst you are stirring your over-flowing batch of cookie dough with your soft rubber spatula, you may accidentally cut off chunks from the spatula, and not knowing this, proceed to blend them right up into the cookies. So, I'm sorry if anyone dies of some kind of plastic toxicity or poops out a chunk of rubber. This is my fault.

So, but back to the Drinking. Yes. You knew we'd get here. We're even gonna do a little recipe.
Well, did you know that Everclear is now legal to sell in Washington? Yes kids, that's right! Now, we don't get any kind of 190-proof moonshine in these parts (a tragedy for sure) but you CAN buy 150-proof (75%) pure grain alcohol, aka Everclear. So, since it smells and tastes like a cocktail of rubbing alcohol and nailpolish remover, we don't want to drink it straight. Thus, we use the high-proof alcohol to mane an infusion!
Yes! Now, if you are a little bit classier than me or have a bit more skrilla to spare, you can always buy a nice quality high-proof vodka or some 151 rum, just so long as you have at least 75% alcohol - we need all the alcohol we can get to make our infusion just right.
What, exactly, are we infusing?
I'm really glad you asked.
We are going to recycle in a way all hippies would be proud of!
You remember all those pot-stems you've been saving, for no real reason, but you feel like there's just got to be a bit of meat left on those bones? Well, good think you saved them, because there is, and we're gonna make broth. Hell yeah. Gross analogy. Sorry.
So taking our little bundle of branches, and a generous donation of trim (you know - leaves and such, the non-smokable parts), we shoved them into the bottle of everclear and closed the lid.
Then, we let it sit. For two weeks.
When we finally did crack it open, the everclear had taken on a rich, dark green hue. Viola! We have Green Dragon :)
We poured it into shot glasses and took some throat-burning drams. The stuff tastes like pure "getting high," my taste-testers declared. It also gets you instantly drunk, and progressively stoned. So, awesome.
I recommend mixing yourself a shot with a little juice or flavored liquer, to cut the harshness...we are working on a Weed-tini, recipes to come!
Enjoy responsibly, kids.

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