Boletus barrowsii. And I ate them.
West Seattle - Alki Beach. I've been compelled to investigate.
The beer. Seattle PI's Washington Beer Blog, "Everything beer in the Evergreen State" has coco news, straight from the Raven’s mouth:
The elusive Coco Jones is about to make a rare appearance. I’m not talking about my disowned second cousin, Ms. Coco Jones. Last I heard, cousin Coco was still doing two shows a night in Vegas, proudly walking on the wild side. Nope, not that Coco Jones. Today we are talking about Black Raven Brewing Company’s Coco Jones Coconut Porter.
We need more rich people in the state. ... We need to double the number of rich people, not increase what they pay.
Senator William E. Sharer's answer to New Mexico's economic problems was suggested Wednesday in Senate Corporations and Transportation Committee when he made an improbable comparison between state government, baking and the NBA.
Corporations and transportation is also called "corpse" since bills go there to die - like Senator Eric Griego's SB94. Proponents of the Griego tax bill spoke of "time to sacrifice" and Griego presented a strong argument explaining that income inequality is at the highest level since the Great Depression.
Somehow this reminded Senator Sharer of pie. He expressed the belief that instead of cutting it up differently, we should just get another pie! And the bigger the pie gets the better! About that time pizzas were delivered to the committee room for members and my stomach was growling audibly.
He next attempted to analogize NBA salaries and referred to Michael Jackson instead of Michael Jordan. He said, the NBA expanded the pie a lot. Is pie distributed equally? No! But, even poor guys in the NBA get paid more than people in this room.
All we need is Michael Jackson. I mean Jordan.
One of Rockin' Ray's radical Skyy Dogs was doing his thing at the Isotopes park Mom's Day. The wonderful seats, win, weather, beer, brat and entertainment made Sunday afternoon sublime and cast a happy afterglow well into Monday. Happy afterglow, not a hangover.
According to old antique people, the julep cup's form originated among Kentucky and Tennessee silversmiths before the Civil War.
Silver-plate versions were popular as horse show trophies. We preferred larger goblets. Now I wish I had a couple more.
The weight and size keeps the drink frosty and strong through multiple races. The cup fits nicely in your hand and is hard to spill.
Mush mint with sugar, add decent bourbon and crushed ice. Stir gently and garnish. Wisdom? I don't recommend using agave instead of cane syrup.
Below a photo of fabled Coco Jo - the mint chocolate cookie made in California somewhere that could save their economy. It's like a Girl Scout Thin Mint on steroids or all Tim Burtonized like Helena Bonham Carter's head.
I bought a bunch of Coco Jos in November for Christmas gifts. Didn't get one? No one did. I tasted one. Ate them all. When I went back to get more they were gone. Now they're back.
They're worth every one of the multiple dollars each costs and I'd order them online if I thought I wouldn't just eat an entire carton of them. With mint tea.
Not really. Not so much. No. But that's what corn refiners want us to think.
When I say that high-fructose corn syrup is the devil and we should tax the hell out of it, it won't surprise my few, regular, dear readers. They know I also feel strongly about land development, off-road vehicles and feeding dogs from the table. When the all-powerful corn lobby sees this they should know my range, so to speak.
From the San Francisco Chronicle is this overly-balanced, heavily-edited treasure. Important information but you'd think King Corn was in the house by the way it was written. Read the whole thing for context, but here's the sicky-sweet nougat wedged between qualifiers in a long article that the corn lobby hopes you won't read.
There's a live parade cam at Napolean and St Charles and lots of videos and pics like this one online in the Times Picayune. Watch Drew Brees as Bacchus thowing little golden footballs to the crowd during the Rex Bacchus parade Sunday.
Foodie Ellen Kanner in Huffington Post skims the fat for meaning:
French for Fat Tuesday, it's not just cheap beads and anonymous orgying (not that there's anything wrong with that). Mardi Gras is the day before Ash Wednesday, when Catholics begin the Lenten 40 days of penance, prayer and cleansing before Easter. Traditionally, Mardi Gras was a night of eating rich food, the better to endure the lean days of Lent. New Orleans embraced the concept with typical passion. It seems like half the regional recipes start with a cup of heavy cream (not that there's anything wrong with that, either). ...
Food goes beyond the plate. There's its traditions, how its sourced, its romance and history, the powerful associations it evokes. You can't eat these things and yet they deepen your experience and appreciation of your food. They add their own spice. They make you care. ... Food at its source tastes of the spirit of a place and in New Orleans, that means laissez les bon temps rouller.