Saturday, December 6, 2014

Everyone steals a penguin from the cake. Or a window.

I forgot I live in a place with seasons until THIS happens.
The sun slinks off by four o'clock, and I'm stubborn about walking everywhere, headphones warbling Serial as the little black umbrella David got me from the States gets more and more bent by the rain day after day.

The coming winter is still a novelty to me, and I'm frankly delighted every morning when I act out what someone who lives in a cold place might conceivably wear: YELP LIFE fingerless mittens, Paddington Bear coat, and always the back-up beanie.

Witch fyre all.
I'm making stews and curries, and big leafy beany piles of hippie mush. Two eggs a day still, sometimes four, so on a monthly basis, that's like 70 eggs. Chickens a'laying indeed.

I figure as it gets colder, I'll just have people over to cook dinner together more. Huddling for warmth against the darkness and all those good cave people instincts.


A woman with a yellow origami head wrap chats to me about the jug of smoky pine tea I'm slugging around, and when I'm excited she has a paper sack of scotch bonnet peppers, she gifts me one. I've never cooked with the fruity little blaze of a pepper, but she says I've been missing out. So cheers to Melea, and it made the vegan laksa mighty tasty.

I hate that I watch Into the Wild and the cheesy shit totally gets to me, and I'm like, "Why aren't I in a shrub somewhere?"

Natasha and I went ice skating on Google's dime at Somerset House, and upon arrival, a trio of aristocrats from Panem lift my shirt and tell me that my trousers aren't high-waisted enough to merit a score higher than 3.6.


Waves of cassis & prosecco, and I surprise myself by actually managing to zoom around the rink, even if I'm not the prettiest skater.

We're told that mulled wine stops pouring in ten minutes, so we tramp around in damp socks until little bowls of food get snatched up.

And why wouldn't you have a massive cake in the shape of the building you're in. And penguins.

Nina continues to hold the prize for Most Thoughtful Person Ever. As a belated birthday treat, she waves me into the NHV (Nina/Hannes Van or the Something Hippie Van) before we putt putt into New Malden.

Also known as where the Korean food flows cheap and plentiful.

Pretty amazing Saturday, and I started off with some galbitang. Beef bone broth, clear but oh so rich.


We walk off the food stupor, surrounded by deer and autumn at Richmond Park. The sun just ditches us on our walk back, the darkening gates closing behind us. We backtrack, loop, and weave over to Korean products stacked to the ceilings.

Korean grocery fantasies fulfilled, we end with more soup, a seafood noodle in a rich velvet broth, and then a little jug of quince & honey for me to bring to work to ward off the winter.

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