History is my pornography. The past doesn’t require my compassion or my pity or my measured response. “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair” said Shelley, but that’s not what I do. Not despair, but a throb between my legs. Perhaps despair and a throb? Yes. That, then. Both is better.
Thanks so much for this recipe and bravo for cooking with your hands. All these people with their disposable plastic gloves creep me out. It's bad for the environment. A good, thorough handwashing with soap, water and a nail brush is perfectly adequate.