|Zombie-punk bunny skull|
She apparently felt it indispensable to ring me especially to let me know this, and that her fridge is bigger than mine. What this means is that she can now stick even more rosé in there, for that is the purpose of a fridge around her place. And around ours too, to be perfectly honest: that is why we have two fridges. One for the essentials, like rosé, and another for the incidentals of everyday life, like stuff for Jeremy to graze on.
It only took an hour of time that I'm sure could have been put to better use, but I have done a geeky thing and it is good. Now if I had another spare one floating around I could do the same thing on the top floor, where the signal strength could be better too ... The only thing I've not been able to do is make them appear as one seamless network, but I'm not sure that's even possible so I rather think I'll rest on my laurels.
It's always a pleasure to find decent exotic food in France, outside of Paris anyway, and having found a place to get it we rather tend to clutch it to our collective bosom, as it were. Makes a change from Chinese too, which is nice - above all it makes a change from Chinese restaurant decor, which seems to be universally, and uniformly, repulsive. I imagine there must be a single supplier somewhere in the world, perhaps working out of a hole in the wall in a back alley somewhere in the hinterlands of Hong Kong, who makes nothing but the red and gold lampshades, the red faux lacquer medallions, the scrolls with authentic but sadly obscene Chinese pictograms and those wonderful pictures driven by electric motors where you can actually see the river flowing and things.
Sometimes, as we're all aware, Good Ideas turn out to be Not So Bloody Brilliant. We use Ethernet over power lines around our place, given that back in the 40's when the modern part was built you were pretty lucky if you got aluminium wires for the freshly-invented electricity, and very few people had the forethought or the decency to install CAT5 cables everywhere, or even just empty ducting.
So, when I set up that second Wifi network, the Netgear downstairs was connected to the router upstairs via the power lines, and I connected to the Netgear over Wifi. Great signal strength in my comfy chair: so far so good. I first got an inkling that things were not perfect when I started to download something and noted that the download speed was all of 15Kbps, which is not good. Switch over to the other, weak Wifi connection: back to my usual 1.1Mbps. Better.
With hindsight, the kind of miraculous thing is that packets were getting through at all. In fact, sometimes it astounds me that the electricity manages to circulate.
To my great disappointment there was NO SWEETCORN at the market: I shall, apparently, be forced to wait another week or so for the next crop to be ready. On the other hand the guy did have some vitelotte potatoes, which was nice. The skin is almost black, and the flesh is a brilliant violet with the odd cream swirl: I personally find that the best way of cooking the little buggers is to steam them. They stay nice and firm, so if you have any left over I really would recommend slicing them thickly and adding them to a mixed vegetable salad for a splash of colour. Mashing them would not, I think, be a Good Idea - it might turn out OK, but the thought of raising purple purée to my mouth would rather put me off.
Which reminds me that I spoke of sabayon a while back. The word comes from the Italian zabaglione and not the other way around: don't forget that the French knew nothing of the fine art of patisserie until Catherine de Medici brought a whole swag of Italian pastry-cooks into France with her in her luggage back in the 1500s, just to make sure there'd be something worth eating at her wedding with Henri II. In principle it's a very light egg custard, made with sugar, fruit juice and white wine. It can be delicious, and I for one like it as a topping lightly caramelized, which you can do if you have a really hot grill (which the French call a salamandre, and the Wikifiddlers amongst you can look it up for yourselves) or a portable kitchen flamethrower (which is more fun).
I simply cannot make up my mind. Indecision will be the death of me. Maybe I should try both.
Finally, I cannot help but note that they're really trying to do their best to discourage one from smoking. I find this particular one just so gross. Mind you, from the looks of them they've both got other things on their minds anyway: sex does not appear to be at the top of anyone's list.
|Christ, I need a fag RIGHT NOW!|