Has been the culinary theme as of late, in a debatably successful attempt to counterract the neither hot nor spicy weather that surrounds the mid-Atlantic region. I'm really not okay with the whole idea of temperatures in the teens. Teens should be awkward, vaguely familiar looking adolescents generally to be avoided, especially in social settings and malls, most definitely not weather reports.
Saturday was a night of Thai and salsa, although the salsa was musical, not gastronomic. Spicy fumes of lemongrass and coconut soup mixed with whifs of Leroy's signature curry mix, bottled especially for the entire Williamson clan this Christmas, as Jen, Marni and I sang along to bad spanish pop and real guajiro rhythms. It was a good night. Any night that ends with CD burning and Irish coffee with brownies (to complete the cultural heterogeny) can't by definition be bad.
Sunday was spicy mac'-n-cheese made in a hurry as I watched the first half of Two Towers twice, once through, and then again with commentary. I'm such a nerd. I tried to convince myself that the spicyness along with several cups of tea would make me feel warm, but it turned out that in my poorly insulated corner room, only a wool hat and slippers could raise my core temperature to something resembling normal...while the kitchen still swelters and gushes hot air like a sauna. Nobody really understands who designed the climate control systems in this building.
And today, today is Indian food, fantastically spicy paneer and mango lassis (which, while neither hot nor spicy, are still quite yummy), care of everyone's newest favorite "public intellectual," and candidate for friend's boyfriend. Hey, if he wants to buy dinner so I'll tell her nice things about him, I'm *so* okay with that. It also helps that he's just a nice guy. And speaking of nice guys...[sigh]. I like mine.
A lot.