Today didn’t start well, I got a call from my therapist, she has to cancel today’s session. I could just blog what I wanted to talk about. Do all of you promise therapist-patient confidentiality? I trust you but I think I better not rely on it.
I’m often proud of my cooking. Yesterday I tried an innovation that made me feel stupid for not realizing this decades ago. I love my roast chicken, the keys are the seasoning, but more importantly not overcooking it. I find most chicken, even in a restaurant, too dry. The problem with my oven roasted chicken is that the skin isn’t crispy. Last night I popped it in the broiler for two minutes after roasting and the problem was solved. It came out perfect. How have I not been doing this all along? I don’t make whole chickens, I’m just one person, I make thighs, the juiciest piece. I roast it for 30 minutes at 425°F then broil it for two minutes. Make it like that and it will come out perfect every time. I’m still amused that I give cooking advice. I’m not exactly the domestic type. What I was always good at was grilling, but now I don’t have a grill. Maybe I should get one.
Remember I told you that I acted in a music video by Bobtown. It’s been released. I play death. Katherine asked herself who was silly enough to play a lonely death? and came up with me. If the question is “Who is silly enough to __________?” It’s a safe bet that I’m the answer.
I pride myself in being both intelligent and silly, thus the name of this blog. I’m happiest when the entries are funny. Cooking tips are not why I write this. I include them because it’s something I spend time thinking about. Sharing the way my mind works, is my reason for blogging. The one thing that always strikes me about how other people’s minds work is the total obliviousness to empiricism. Baseball announcers will blithely make pronouncements on things that could be objectively determined, often have been objectively determines, but they prefer to say what came into their head at the moment. On Facebook I discovered that there are baseball fans who detest analytics, they don’t want facts, they judge by how things make them feel. We get the same thing in politics, which has important consequences. The things that I hate about Trump are the very reason others love him. He has no use for experts and facts, he goes with his gut.
And now I’m going to go with my gut and make breakfast. It’s a good one, French toast made with chocolate chip brioche.
Wise Madness 