Natufian Rhapsody

15,000 years ago
Hungry Natufians
Mashed grain and water to make dough
For family and friends
Set fire to stone and made it glow
Cooked that dough until those stones
Turned red
Served it up sans cutlery
And called the meal flatbread

The Chili Verde of Choice

One of the many highlights of Gaming and Guinness is Pete's homemade chili verde. It is incredibly savoury and scrumptious, especially when served in a sourdough bread bowl. I'm so glad I was there tonight for this! 
 

Vernal Geekquinox 2026: Dem Bones, Dem Tasty Bones

The great thing about bones, in a culinary sense, is their ability to act as handles for meat. This year's first Geekquinox, held yesterday afternoon, was built on very sold bones: Pete and Ellen's peerless hosting and cooking skills, and friendships that now stretch back decades. Zounds! 

The lamb lollipops were so delicious that I forgot to take a photo before they'd all been scarfed down--thanks to Stephen for this photo! Moist, juicy, tender--I don't have lamb often, but wow, these were scrumptious. They certainly put a SHEEPISH GRIN on my face! 

The next course consisted of braised lamb shanks served on a bed of rice. The sauce...oh, the sauce...the meat and the rice were excellent, too, of a quality far better than, I dare say, most restaurants. 

Here's our dapper chef in his skeleton-themed shirt, alongside a couple of the cocktail recipes. I'm not a drinker, but apparently at least one of them was "face-numbing." 

Ellen took this shot of us, which means she's not in it! Still a fun photo that captures the feeling of the day. 

We took a break between courses to marvel at Pete and Ellen's just-completed library. It's utterly gorgeous, and really makes me want to do something similar in my (much smaller) space. 

Unfortunately, family matters called us away early, so we missed the steak and the duck. But we did share a piece of this amazing homemade dinosaur dig cake. Needless to say, we dug it, bones and all. 

For better photos and a more comprehensive writeup, including the dishes we missed, see Steve's story of the event! 

Tacoless Tuesday

I wish I'd made tacos tonight. I didn't. This photo of tacos and fried (actually microwaved) rice is months old. They sure look good. 

Tacos, tacos
I wish I'd cooked you
I wish I'd assembled you
I wish I'd garnished you
I wish I were eating you
Right about now

 

Pete and Ellen's Big Fat Greekquinox

 Yesterday Pete and Ellen once again hosted a spectacular multi-course meal, this time themed after Greece, where they spent their late honeymoon earlier this year. The choice may have been on-the-nose for the couple, but speaking only for myself, the menu ranks among my favourites. Check out the Pete-designed menu above and the photos below to see if you agree. 

We began with savoury vegetarian spanakopita--light, flaky, golden brown pastry stuffed with spinach, cheeses, and spices, topped with Pete's homemade tzatziki sauce. (Everything was home-made; forgive the redundant adjective.) Actually, we topped pretty much everything on the menu with tzatziki. "Keep eating this stuff, I have two more litres in the fridge!" Pete entreated us. We were happy to oblige. 

Lemonade with mint leaves and a lemon slice--incredibly tasty, tangy, and refreshing. Even the coasters and napkins were inspired by Grecian art. 

I attempted to look Greek by borrowing a gold necklace from Sylvia and unbuttoning my shirt to expose my hairy chest. Rather risqué for me, but I wanted to support the theme. Sylvia pulled it off more easily, having a wider range of choices. 

The strips of chicken souvlaki and the tangy Greek rice were superb--rich in flavour, perfectly textured, a delight for the palate. 

Jeff, Steve, Audrey, Pete, Ellen, and Mike enjoying the first course. 

Pete's apron was on point. 

A Greek salad worthy of the gods with onion, feta, tomatoes, and a dressing I assume was oil and vinegar. 

Greek potatoes cooked and seasoned to perfection. 

Slow roasted lamb with au jus. I eat lamb very unfrequently, but I'm grateful Pete served this up--so moist, so juicy. 

While attempting to get a shot of Pete framed between the black cupboards, he leaned left just as Stephen was taking a photo of the food. I call this the EyePhone effect. 

The shot I intended to take. 

Galaktabourekos, a honey-sweet pastry custard named for the Milky Way--truly a dessert from and for the stars. 

And here's a lovely shot (courtesy of Steve) of this year's hosts and guests. Thank you all so much again for yet another unforgettable evening of feasting and fellowship! 

Big Mushrooms

Mushrooms, yuck. They have no place in cuisine, but they make decent street scatter. 
 

Turnip Tuesday in Hell

 

At Hell's lunch counter Beelzebub and Mammon 
Serve everything you hate
Week after week like this: 

Liver and tripe Monday
Turnip Tuesday
Kidneys in cod liver oil Wednesday
Parsnip Thursday
Boiled cabbage and haggis Friday
Beetroot Saturday
Blood pudding and Jell-O Salad Sunday

But the worst part is
It's all you can eat
Mandatory all you can eat
Unto eternity and after

Earl's Rational Chili

Ingredients:

2 lbs extra lean ground beef
2 cans brown beans
1 tbsp garlic powder
1 tbsp onion powder
2 tbsp chili powder
1 tbsp salt
2 cans bolognaise sauce
1 can pomodoro sauce
2 cups water
1 green bell pepper
1 orange bell pepper
1 red bell pepper
1 yellow bell pepper
1 Spanish onion
5 green onions
2 cups shredded cheese
1 cup sour cream

Stir ground beef, beans, bolognaise sauce, pomodoro sauce, and water in a frying pan over high heat until beef is browned. Chop vegetables into small pieces and add to frying pan. Add spices. Stir for another five minutes. 

Put everything in a slow cooker for two hours. Remove and let cool for five minutes; add shredded cheese and sour cream as toppings. Serves 1-25 depending on portion size. 

Autumnal Geekquinox 2023: The Barbenheimer Affair

"I am become Chef, creator of Worlds . . . of flavour." 

Pete could have said this, but instead he lived these words by preparing a multi-course meal inspired by two of this year's biggest critical and commercial film hits, Barbie and Oppenheimer. 

To begin with, just look at that menu. Not only is he a creative culinary force, he's also a damn fine writer and graphic designer. 

Enough fawning, on to the food and friendship: 
 

Sylvia loved her Barbies as a child, so she was well equipped to doll herself up (pun intended) for the event. The best I could do was to don my only pink shirt (a holdover from Gaming & Guinness created by Steve) to serve as a sort of bargain-basement Ken. 

Here's "Pink just looks so good on toast," a savoury concoction that burst on the palate when consumed. There's lox, capers, tomato, and avocado in there. Oof! Chef's kiss. 

I haven't seen Oppenheimer yet, but this juicy rosemary chicken breast is so named for a nude scene in the film. I'll understand the context eventually, but yesterday the flavour was far more important than the reference. The chicken may look unassuming in this photo, but it was irresistible. 

"It's so ($#&%*# good!" 

The atomic turds were hot, hot, hot, but I managed to eat two anyway. Bacon, cream cheese, jalapeno, and sausage, all wrapped up in one explosive package! 

"Is that going to be too hot too handle?"

I hate mushrooms. But I have a self-imposed rule about Geekquinox: If it's on the menu, I must AT LEAST try it. I devoured two of these thanks to the generous heaps of garlic-infused cheese Pete stuffed into these Mushroom Clouds. That's more than enough juicy flavour to overcome my distaste for mushrooms.

"Surprised you, huh?"

Call Them Trinity . . . fondant potatoes stuffed to overflowing with a trio of cheeses. A delectable accompaniment for the main meat course . . .

"MORE MEAT . . ."

No, not another serving of atomic turds, though they would have been welcome. This is Oppenheimer's Vision--pork belly burnt ends. Melt-in-your-mouth tenderness and palate-pleasing flavour in every bite.

"I am become Chef . . . wait, you already used that joke." Pete as Barbenheimer himself! 

Barbie herself dropped in to present the Barbieland Cloud, made from scratch, just like everything else on the menu. It was moist beyond belief. 

"We can't eat another bite! Look, Pete's passing out." 

"Hey Steve, did you know you can read all about this event on your blog?" 

"Yes, Earl, because I WROTE IT." 

The four Barbie girls that graced our Barbie world on Saturday. 

And of course, Ellen's traditional group photo. 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I have the best friends. Thanks to Pete and Ellen for another fantastic gathering, and to the rest of you fine folks for coming out and sharing another evening of loving laughter. 

A Fishy Culinary Tradition

 

Whose idea was it to add breading or batter to fish? Fish is delicious when fried or seared, rich in flavour and texture. Breading it just masks the flavour and makes the whole dish feel much heavier than it should. 

Maybe I'm spoiled. Mom and Dad used to catch fresh fish from the pristine lakes of northern Manitoba and clean and fry the fillets right at the campground. The pickerel and trout they prepared in those days remains my favourite meal of all time. All fish since has paled in comparison. 

Even so, I can still enjoy fish if it's not wrapped in a casing of fried lard and butter. 

Fish: better without the batter. 

Grilled Applewood Smoked Cheddar and Parmesan on Sourdough, 2020

I cooked this a few minutes ago, and then I ate it. It was really good! I can cook! I can cook...this. 

Safety Moment

These are not my hands
And these are not my flames
It's plasma flaring and
I am not to blame

Stop Battering Fish

I know it's traditional to batter fish, especially for the fish & chips staple, but honestly, fish is so much better without the batter. Earl has spoken! 

Slash and Burn

Yesterday I made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. The grilled cheese is perhaps the simplest of culinary exercises, and yet somehow I managed to burn two fingertips and slash two knuckles during the preparation of this repast. I can explain the fingertips; I flipped one of the sandwiches too suddenly, and to prevent it from leaving the frying pan, I held one edge of the bread up to shift its centre of gravity, tipping it back into the pan. Doing so burned my fingers on the hot toast.

I am at odds to explain how I slashed my knuckles, though I note that each knuckle slashed is on one of the burned fingers. 

Wandering Oven

Wandering oven, where do you roam?
What are you doing so distant from home?
Did you feel so unloved that you had to escape
Unwilling to cook what we put on your plate?