I just learned that Nutella can be thinned with milk and turned into a delicious sauce.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
concerning the Life, Studies, Opinions, and Friends, of ERK
'bout Me
Considering
- Biller's Love Witch
- Herzog's Lo and Behold, Reveries of the Connected World
- Schrader's First Reformed
- Howard's Solo
- Sciamma 's Bande de Filles
- Bergman's The Seventh Seal
- Reed & Rosenberg-Lee's Passing
Winks
Our Chives
-
▼
2008
(432)
-
▼
April
(52)
- Deadbeats
- From the UW Archive:Carrillon Tower before 1962
- Some Rustic Biscuits
- Precipitous It
- We were really hummin'
- Pink
- How Many Cups??
- The Full Force of Spring: Special Feature - Behind...
- Still Scratching
- Scratch Paper
- Spot Sequins - Update
- From the UW Archives: Langdon Street Antics
- The Full Force of Spring
- The Full Force of Spring: Some Souces, A Preface
- You Know Chicken and Dumplings?
- Towards the Light
- Kenneth: I wonder if you can get personal lubrican...
- Dumplings Not Alone
- Along the way
- Breathing In
- Smooth E.
- All the leaves!
- Spring Fashions
- Return of the Regular
- Great Lines
- From the UW Archive:Bourgeois and protestant
- My Love
- A Large Hood
- Notebook Unearthed
- Great Lines
- For Internal Use Only
- Spot Sequence - Update
- Lexicon Devil
- From the UW Archives: Octopus
- "Ink...
- Message for Michael: Lagerfeld's Happiness
- She were m' cover.
- Melt
- Brownie w/ Nutella Sauce
- Shameless Sequence
- Back With Interest Back
- Synchronicity 2
- These days we so love a good old-fashioned shrimp ...
- Synchronicity 1
- Mt. Olivet Cemetery, Nashville, TN (4 - Music Vide...
- Provisioning
- Mt. Olivet Cemetery, Nashville, TN (3 - Tree)
- If I must...
- Salmon with Cassoulet
- Supposedly
- From the UW Archives: Listening Party
- Glum
-
▼
April
(52)
6 comments:
In 1988, I hid a container of Nutella in the back of my left-hand desk drawer and surreptitiously ate it in fat spoonfuls late at night and certain afternoons.
Last week I had homemade hazelnut gelato in Los Feliz. Which was the greater pleasure?
The older I get, the more I think that intensity diminishes with age: my world was shaken with great regularity before I turned-- say-- 25, but not so much these days. (I recently moaned to Kenneth, "But I don't want to learn any more ugly lessons about the world!!") Also, when it comes to pleasures, the hidden is often more provocative than the homemade. I vote for 1988 desk-drawer Nutella (despite my greater desire for the gelato).
the Nutella offered a darker thrill, made all the more potent by adolescent defiance dosed with guilt. the gelato was auburn, well-crafted, delicious, but I've already forgotten what it tasted like, while the Nutella afterburn still hangs at the back of my throat.
I hold on to hope that intensity ebbs and flows, or that at the very least, if our worlds are no longer shaken at the drop of a hat, we're still able to register sensation and feeling with acuity (dare I say it, sophistication?), in memoriam to the sharp, sweet, earth-shattering pang.
Oh yes: I haven't lost my register for sensation and feeling. I'm no titanium alloy. If my talk of diminished intensity seems cynical, I must point out that I'm not sure I could sustain persistent earth-shattering pangs. I love the notion of living in memorium of past intensities. Perhaps that begins to explain my obsession with adolescence.
Also so important to live in memorium of childish vision. But, as with an existence shaken at the drop of a hat, I would never want to return to childhood.
Word. And you didn't sound cynical at all! I can easily romanticize the weird promise that having my earth shattered seemed to offer (I'm thinking here about college & early twenties), but am SO grateful I'm no longer there... what I want to return to, and what is beginning to return to me, is a sense of enthusiasm, joy, possibility, play... as long as I can shush the naysaying voices (yay, panopticon) and strip away the resentment that gunks up the works. . .
Double word! I gotta create faster processes for stripping away the gunk.
Now, off to work. Must work.
Post a Comment