Having already checked out the Italian, Mediterranean, and European markets, today's adventure took place at the Oriental Supermarket
. This store had almost
everything my little heart desires!
This supermarket offers a full line of Chinese, Japanese, Thai, East and West Indian, and Latin market items.
I've never seen such a vast array of reasonably priced specialty items.
I could have gone nuts in there. I chose instead to get only what I needed for this weekend's vietnamese spring rolls. I'm referring specifically to the fresh and not the deep-fried variety.
The fresh, soft, aromatic filling of meat, vermicelli, lettuce, basil and mint rolled up in rice paper and dipped in a black bean/chili sauce.
I of course had to get myself a new tin of gunpowder green tea, and, Bee & Flower
Rose and Sandalwood
soaps, and fresh lemongrass.
Now I just need to find a store that stocks Johnson's Baby Cologne
Posted by Rue at 06:35 PM.
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My aunt died in Rome this morning. My father's sister was a career nun. She was uber-educated and has been a champion of education in both Italy and Venezuela where she spent years setting up schools. I met her at least three times. Each time I spent a couple of months in the convent learning how to sew and embroider, and all the other domestic skills my father felt were important for my formation so that I would be a good wife some day. That, coupled with the fact that it was cheap daycare for a pre-teen while he checked out the singles' scene in Pescara, Capri, Milan....
In 1942, at the young age of 16 she heard a calling and left her parents' house to enter the convent. She never looked back.
I know there a people who were close to her. They will grieve her passing.
Last year she telephoned me a couple of times to wish us congratulations on the birth of our daughter. Up to my elbows in diapers, I never made it to the phone in time before it went to voicemail. Both messages were pretty much the same. A cold, irate woman saying how she has called numerous times and can never get through to congratulate us on the birth of our child. Why she didn't just send me a fucking email made no sense to me.
I bet I'm going to have at least one episode when I've forgotten that she's gone.
Right now, I'm feeling really sad about her passing. I would have liked to have seen her again.
This afternoon I saw a quick flash of black gabardine adorned with black rosary beads in my peripheral vision while I was playing with my little ones. It was nice of her to drop by.
Incidentally, I have no issues with otherworldly pop-ins, someone dropping in to award me an obscene amount of money, and my father-in-law stopping by without notice. No other exceptions. Ever.
Posted by Rue at 11:14 PM.
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Kramer and Poppie in the kitchen of the restaurant, making the first 'test pizza.'
KRAMER (in a chef's hat and apron): See, anybody can do this.
POPPIE: Use your wrist! It's all in the wrist. Not too high!
KRAMER (puts the dough on the counter): Alright, put a little sauce on here... Some cheese...
POPPIE: Not too much!
POPPIE: Wait a second...what is that?
KRAMER: It's cucumbers.
POPPIE: No, no. You can't put cucumbers on a pizza.
KRAMER: Well, why not? I like cucumbers.
POPPIE: That's not a pizza. It'll taste terrible.
KRAMER: But that's the idea, you make your own pie.
POPPIE: Yes, but we cannot give the people the right to choose any topping they want! Now on this issue there can be no debate!
KRAMER: What gives you the right to tell me how I would make my pie?
POPPIE: Because it's a pizza!
KRAMER: It's not a pizza until it comes out of the oven!
POPPIE: It's a pizza the moment you put your fists in the dough!
KRAMER: No, it isn't!
POPPIE: Yes, it is!
Poppie is right, and on that there can be no debate! I am totally skeeved
with the vile, barely edible, goo that some restaurants claim is pizza.
They recognize only three types of real Neapolitan pizza: Marinara, with garlic and oregano; Margherita, with basil and mozzarella cheese from the southern Apennines, and extra-Margherita, with fresh tomatoes, basil and buffalo mozzarella from Campania, the region that includes pizza's hometown, Naples.
The dough must be rolled out manually and baked in wood-burning ovens that can reach the required temperature of 485 Celsius.
The regulations were approved after surveying pizza-makers in Naples and surrounding areas. Restaurants that abide by the rules will get a label saying their pizza is a "guaranteed traditional specialty."
I wonder if I can get a label
to tack onto my kitchen wall?
Now, can anyone tell me where I can obtain buffalo mozzarella
from Campania in the Okanagan?
« Okay, that's it.
Posted by Rue at 06:43 PM.
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