Avett Love, continued.

What makes them tick? asks the filmmaker.  Hint: "Love one another" is a good place to begin. I can't wait to see this movie.


This remains one of the most exquisitely crafted songs ever written:

It's not every day that the word "Lust" is printed on my birthday presents

But then, it's not every day that my birthday presents are in German. I had to do a double take when I saw this label. 

But fear not, it has an innocent meaning (though I'm sure that some of the eloquence must be lost in translation):

And when we're talking Römertopf  (Deutsch for “Roman pot”), "delight" is surely the operative word! I received a lovely 6 qt clay roaster for my birthday. It happened one or two years ago, but I'm only getting round to blogging about it now. (Procrastination is an ongoing issue; I'll deal with it someday.)

Contrary to what many might assume (that I received it from my daughter who speaks German and spent time working in Germany), it was given to me by my sister, Mrs. Doris Rose Jones, and she bought it in Saskatoon. But it was made in Germany, as all genuine Römertopf  products are. 

A friend once told me that she didn't collect things like this because she was not a gourmet, and to that I must respond by saying I DO collect things like this for exactly the same reason. 

I don't love Römertopf (or clay bakers in general) because I am a gourmet, but because such cookery is absolutely, positively idiot-proof​, and thus entirely suited to my culinary skill level. I quote from the (1970s era, thus the goofy title) Romertopf Cooking is Fun (why did everything have to be fun back then? I guess it was better than everything being an unconscious-bias microagression) cookbook my SIL gave me:

"Overdone" and "burnt" are words which are competely unknown in the Romertopf kitchen. Once a dish is in the oven nothing can go wrong. (bolds mine)

What's not to love about that? Especially for cooks like me, who can vanquish even the simplest "No Fail" recipes. 

The baker is made of (mostly) unglazed and porous clay; you soak it in water for 15 minutes before patting it dry and putting the food in. The moisture given off during cooking prevents the food from drying out. Thus the clay baker is not so much a vessel as a process; it really can't be compared to glass or metal (even cast iron, which would probably give similar results, given the heaviness of the lid). Clay bakery produces the most succulent roast chicken and beef/bison/pork roasts we've ever eaten. Plus the heavy clay keeps the food warm for much longer than most other roasters (and if you like 'rustic', it's pretty enough to go straight to the table.) 

Fresh herbs make every chef appear Pinterest-worthy!

Das ist mir Wurst!

Translation: "That is my sausage/It's all sausage to me/I don't care"
(it's apparently an idiom, not just a declarative sentence.)
.

The world can end now (the Rhubarb Files)

Because I finally found a rhubarb cookie recipe that I like.

Rhubarb and I go way back. (It probably began because Auntie Anselma, God rest her soul, did not put enough sugar in her rhubarb pie. For that matter, neither did Mom, but she used more than Aunt Anselma).

I have never, ever understood rhubarb. I think it is one of the mysteries of the food universe, like tofu. I'm not alone: even the Wizard of Id made regular fun of rhubarb.