The Gull Reef Club

Recent Comments:

12/23/2016 · 8:43 am· lordhelmet · Merry Christmas Eve Eve Eve!
Merry Christmas to you and Mike as well as a Happy New Year!... | Read More

11/3/2016 · 1:30 pm· Jaime · See Something, Say Something, A First Hand Account
Sure doesn't, which in no way explains why the Cubs won! Interesting that we all woke up this... | Read More

11/3/2016 · 12:21 pm· LH · See Something, Say Something, A First Hand Account
No good deed goes unpunished. But at least the Cubs won.... | Read More

10/28/2016 · 6:42 am· lordhelmet · Official Release – Jaime 2.0
I already voted for Trump of course. He was my last choice in the primaries (I supported Kasich)... | Read More

10/27/2016 · 5:40 pm· Jaime · Official Release – Jaime 2.0
Thanks LH! Getting ready to vote for Hillary, right?!?! Hahahahaha. As you can see, I still... | Read More

11/27/2007

Visions of Sugar Molecules Dance in My Head

Filed under: — Jaime @ 12:26 am

A geek Christmas joke ganked from Alton Brown via Iron Chef America:

hohoho

C’mon, beachcombers. You know it’s funny…glaven…

11/25/2007

Turkey Weekend, Sunday Evening Edition

Filed under: — Jaime @ 11:52 pm

For posterity’s sake and before I forget – here is our menu from Thanksgiving:

  • Shrimp dip (appetizer)
  • Crab soup (appetizer)
  • Roast turkey and gravy
  • Stuffing
  • Mashed potatoes
  • Sweet potatoes
  • Green bean casserole
  • Collard greens
  • Cranberry sauce
  • Rolls
  • Pumpkin pie
  • Pecan pie
  • Baked apples
  • The remains of the turkey are now incorporated into a creamy mushroom soup. The bird that keeps on giving. But I’m now ready for a meal involving a huge hunk of beef. Four days of turkey dinners is enough for one season.

    Turkey day lived up to my expectations and remains my favorite holiday of the whole year. Now it’s time to start thinking about the Christmas cookie line-up. Aw yeah.

    11/20/2007

    The Great Cranberry Coverup

    Filed under: — Jaime @ 7:33 pm

    No Thanksgiving dinner is complete without a side of cranberry sauce. In every home I’ve ever eaten this holiday dinner, the necessary sauce has always come from a can.

    I’ve had the honor of eating the meals of some pretty accomplished cooks (both my grandmas, Mike’s mom…), yet even they served us up canned cranberry sauce. This led me to believe that cranberry sauce must be ridiculously hard to make. I mean, if my mom’s mom was willing to get up at 4 am every year to stuff a 25 lb turkey as a start to her cooking day, and she wasn’t willing to bother making homemade cranberry sauce, then it must be too herculean a task to even consider.

    Well, consider we did; so consider it done. Out of curiosity, Mike and I looked into a basic whole cranberry sauce recipe. Ocean Spray, kings of the cranberry kingdom, shares this recipe. Seems pretty easy, right? I can assure you it was. We made ours last night. As I type, there is a perfectly jellied cranberry sauce sitting in our fridge. It was tremendously easy. Plus, it is one of the sides that you can make early and it won’t negate the freshness factor.

    So what gives with all the cans? A cranberry cover-up conspiracy brought to you by the aluminum can industry? Damn you, Big Aluminum.

    11/19/2007

    Scraps

    Filed under: — Jaime @ 11:58 pm

    I’ve read a few short stories as of late in a futile attempt to sate my appetite for non-western lit. I’ve learned there isn’t much available in the form of free e-texts out there that qualify.

    I first picked up Vsevolod Mikhailovich Garshin’s The Signal. Typically Russian – terse, brutal, bloody, and oddly communal. For what it was, I enjoyed it. It did go to reinforce some stereotypes I carry about Russian literature – well, except that this was only 6 pages.

    I followed this up with Brazilian Tales, which was a translation of 6 short stories by -wait for it- Brazilian writers. I only read 5 of the 6. I got about 40 lines or so into ‘Life’ and knew there was not a chance I would finish it. The remaining stories were incredibly dull and lacking emotion, with the exception of Joaquim De Assis’s ‘The Attendant’s Confession.’ I quite enjoyed ‘The Attendant’s Confession.’ I found it to be in the vein of Edgar Allan Poe. One of those stories where the battle of conscience is at the core. I recommend you read that story and skip the rest of the Brazilian Tales.

    In the mood for a Thanksgiving story, I set into Rebecca Harding Davis’ Jane Murray’s Thanksgiving Story. All I can tell you is – don’t bother. It’s complete tripe.

    Despite my utter disregard for Davis’ Thanksgiving story, I think I’ll give her Life in the Iron Mills a shot. The biographies of Davis available online all seem to laud her as some socially progressive writer (before such terms were tainted with the stink of modern Democrats), which piques my interest. Iron Mills is allegedly one of her best works. We’ll see about that.

    And like you care, but I’ve added a new category for things I read and review. That way you can skip these entries if fiction bores you to tears…ahem…Mike…

    11/10/2007

    Found me

    Filed under: — Jaime @ 12:28 am

    Top 5 search terms for The Gull Reef Club for October 2007:

    1 if you sprinkle when you tinkle
    2 ivory soap
    3 bj novak
    4 if you sprinkle
    5 ryan howard the office

    [[[ Insert appropriately witty, slightly obscure comment here ]]]

    11/6/2007

    Moll Flanders and The Blind Owl

    Filed under: — Jaime @ 12:53 am

    Finally managed to drag myself through Daniel Defoe’s Moll Flanders. Ugh, what a waste of time. A 17th century Jerry Springer episode. Woman born into crappy circumstances learns that she can get what she wants by using specific parts of her anatomy. Money grubbing and manipulating. But don’t worry, God comes in at the end and our Ricki Lake heroine repents. It was the 17th century afterall. So back to – ugh. Don’t waste your time.

    I took an 180 degree turn after Moll Flanders and inhaled The Blind Owl. Inhaled is truly the only word to describe reading this Iranian classic by Sadeq Hedayat. I have absolutely no idea how to describe this novella. The plot was as elusive as the opium smoke quite often referenced in this book. Haunting, Poe-like imagery and Kafka-esque perplexity. I liked the story, but felt confused the entire time I was reading it as to whether I was missing something. After reading some reviews I found on teh interwebs, I believe this was the point.

    I was happy to find Hedayat and think I need to expand my reading into more non-Western literature. Any suggestions?

    The Gull Reef Club