9622.net

heh, I remember my family using powdered milk for a brief period when I was a wee lad.

mmm chalky milk.

I think I do anyway, Marty tells me I've hallucinated half of my childhood.

oh wait, that's milk milk? dude, that's just WRONG.

hmmm.
That prob'ly wasn't milk, then.

I stopped drinking milk when I realized where it came from.

When I was a kid in Canada, the milk used to come in limp plastic bags. Like a cross between water balloons and aquaria fish bags. You could bite off the corners and squirt milk at each other.

I like to use evaporated milk for my coffee instead of cream.

But I too prefer it to be refrigerated.

witchy, I think it's only a problem if you keep the parmalat in the cupboard after you've opened it ;)

Octobersurprise: When I was a kid, my dad would take us on fishing trips to nova scotia. I remember the milkbags very well. I haven't been up there since I was a kid, so I always assumed that they still sold it that way.

I'm a coffee snob, but the idea of putting evaporated milk in a cup of coffee makes my stomach turn.

Honestly, I used to drink half and half in the coffee, but after trying liquid coffee-mate, I can't go back. It tastes better, methinks, and is better on the stomach.

When I was about twelve I got a Norwegian Elkhound puppy. He had papers and all that from the AKC, and was something of a gourmand. Loki's dietary needs as a puppy apparently consisted of half a chicken mixed up with puppy chow, yoghurt, and evaporated milk. Now, whenever I see a can of evaported milk, I smell puppy smell.

And think about this: evaporated milk's #1 brand is named PET! Coincidence....or is it?

Adam you will surely rot in coffee snob hell for using coffeemate.

My sister in law stores butter on her counter in a cool little jar thing. The butter stays spreadable and it will keep for weeks. She says that she's never had a problem with keeping her butter out of the fridge.

I still ain't trying it, though.

See, no. Milk is one of those things you don't tamper with. You don't serve it on ice, you don't drink an add-water version and you definitely don't drink the stuff if it hasn't been refrigerated.

*vomit*

Also, the new thing now is to add KoolAid mix to your milk. You know...for kids.

Yummm...purple milk.

*spew*

gen: i know, i know, it's refrigerated after it's opened.

but what's going on in there before it's refrigerated? that's what i want to know. well, perhaps i don't.

Nova Scotia is where it was, jpoulos. Small world. Milkbags are still sold in Canada but I haven't been there in years, either.

Parmalat! Ugh! Why would Americans even think of drinking stuff that lasts for years in warm cupboards? It's a symbol of all that's wrong with Europe.

I love milk, but it must be ice cold, whole, pasteurized and consumed in a great big, tall glass. The way Americans intended it to be drubk.

I'm constantly remembering an old movie with Mickey Rooney, the story of young Edison, and his mother keeps bringing him glasses of cold, white milk and slices of hot, sugar-sprinkled apple pie. Drool. I was about six and it was probably my first gastro-porn experience.

It's as good as Margaritas and freshly roasted almonds. Well, as far as well-meaning lies go, it is.

oh, if only margaritas didn't have tequila in them, they might be palatable.

*shakes rueful fist at heavens*

Witchstone, I'm with you on the Margaritas. I prefer my gin and tonics to be gin-free. That's the only way to drink 'em.

or something

I never said that I didn't want alcohol in my drinks! I just prefer that the alcohol NOT be tequila. *blech* I'm more of a vodka or rum type. Or vodka and rum. Or vodka on the run.

Adam you will surely rot in coffee snob hell for using coffeemate.

I understand, but I just can't help it. I think that coffeemate (non-powder) is better. It even has less of a taste than half and half, I think, allowing me to taste the coffee more. I think.

I'm constantly remembering an old movie with Mickey Rooney, the story of young Edison, and his mother keeps bringing him glasses of cold, white milk

That...wasn't...milk! Aiiieeee!

And, actually, I think it can be stored at room temperature until opening because it's vacuum selaed or something?

Finally, concerning butter: My family always kept it on the counter, one stick at a time. I think it's a british thing. Of course we ate butter like candy bars, back then. We'd have butter fights too! And make butter hats!

Mmmmmmm .... butter hats.

It all came to an end when the Norwegian elkhound ate Kaf's butter fort.

My mother keeps butter on the counter. It only occurred to me recently that it may not be a good idea. I never even thought about it growing up--not even in the summer, when the stick would melt into a blob. I probably have brain damage from eating it all those years.

The tee-hees at milkbags will not be stood for. It's better for the planet (I promise), cheaper at the grocery store, and it's what made Tom Green famous. And for a while, that was a good thing.

I think milkbags are a great thing, marquis. I remember that it was kind of a skill--at least for us awkward Americans--to get the milk from the bag into the bottle. My uncle always got the job. Apparently he had The Touch.

9622.net: It all came to an end when the Norwegian Elkhound ate the butter fort

9622.net: "...and we don't get our butter delivered no more"

Witchstone, I agree. I think tequila causes personality disorders. But rum and vodka, mmmm, much better. And bourbon, better still.

... to get the milk from the bag into the bottle...

Uh. No wonder you had problems. The milk doesn't go from bag to bottle. You can buy a little pitcher into which the milkbag slips. Then you snip the end and pour. Canadian innovation again at work!

For a full illustrated How-To, see here.

Did you know we invented the zipper?

And the monkeys can get ice cream as the market burns down!

And all the boys get the girls in the back!

Hard butter is evil. If I am served hard butter at a restaurant, I am a very sullen customer indeed.

*cries*

Is there anything sadder than bread torn by hard butter?

*shudder*

and what's up with the evil salted butter in the US? don't they know unsalted is where it's at?

Oh man. Have you guys had Plugra? That stuff is the shiznit! Look for it at Trader Joe's!

I'm with you, adam. Worst of all is dealing with a little brick of rock-hard wrapped butter at a sunday morning brunch, coming down.

JIHAD!!!

Jihad on hard butter!

*dons aviator helmet and goggles*

Let's ride!

Bog butter!

Hard butter is evil

Agreed. My favorite restaurant in Miami would bring your corn-on-the-cob with a little styrofoam trough of freshly melted butter for your to roll the ear around in. This was basically the saturated-fat equivalent of orgasmic bliss.

Truffle Butter" is a gastronomic orgasm.

The lazy option is to store your truffles in a sealed container along with the butter.

The peculiar option is to slather your pigs in butter before they even sniff out the truffles.

this double posting thing is weird.

Right, you'll all get yours *starts plotting*

9622: the saturated-fat equivalent of orgasmic bliss.

so many taglines...

Come on now, hard butter makes an excellent appetizer. Just peel and eat! Crackers be damned!

9622.net: Crackers be damned!

My word, looks like me and romakimmy had simultaneous food orgasms. It's a culinary orgy in here.

That reminds me of the overweight lady at the health camp in the book Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, where she had a fantasy about pastries and...ya know...

Witchstone: the Margarita was nvented in the Fifties a variation on the Sidecar, because no cognac was at hand.

The triple combination still stands: spirit plus Cointreau plus fresh lemon or lime juice.

So you make a lovely cocktail by using rum (1 and a half measures), Cointreau and lime juice (I measure each); or by using vodka (1 and a half measures), Cointreau and lime juice(1 measure each).

For a Sidecar it's best 1 measure cognac and 1 each Cointreau and lime juice.

The principle, though, is always the same. A little orange juice is sometimes a blessing. Just shake it up with lots of ice and smile! It's the Margarita that's the arriviste, not the others. I'd look up the names but I'm in a terrible rush.

L'chaim (To life!) and Shanah Tovah, a Jewish happy new year, to all of you!

vodka (

how that vodka ( get in there? If anything, it shoulda been vodka )!

I'm coming for you, little Miggy!

You can't hide forever!

Bring it on, beeyotch!

That's what the boss says when she looks in my desk drawer: how that vodka ( get in there?

I love how Miguel can be in a terrible rush, but still take the time to swap drink recipes with 9622.

He really is the last of the famous international playboys.

Speaking of funny, do you know what's funny? This is funny:

This'll probably never get seen, but what the hell:

Sing along with this midi file on my server!
I am the very model of a Mefi net contributor,
I've information topical and facts that always fail to bore,
I know the links off by heart and love the flame-fests political,
From the Middle East to Dubya Bush in order categorical.

I'm very well acquainted with matters controversial,
I won a Tivo like the rest and now see no commericials,
About the laws on handguns I am sending off a counterblast,
With many cheerful facts about the years fossil fuels'll last,

(Repeat 'With many...' three time)

I'll call you out on your insult, why, to say that I'm a 'dork',
And throw you to the wolves at that dark place they call Metatalk,
In short in matters topical and facts that always fail to bore,
I am the very model of a Mefi net contributor

(In short in matters topical and facts that always fail to bore,
He is the very model of a Mefi net contributor)

I post about all matters of grave trans*national* importance,
Yes, pancakes, Apple Macs and Israel-Palestinian rants,
I really can't believe that free signups are now mythical,
And my three digit ID is worryingly old and atypical,

I've upset several people with my comments on the Bible,
And sent a thousand posts just to be Alpha-Male or Dog or Gal,
I always check the website for the latest messages constantly,
And my phone bill, well hell, that's just not my responsibility,

(Repeat 'And my phone bill...' three times)

I say that a post a day is good enough for anyone,
And join in poking fun at the guys at Plastic dot com,
In short in matters topical and facts that always fail to bore,
I am the very model of a Mefi net contributor

(In short in matters topical and facts that always fail to bore,
He is the very model of a Mefi net contributor)

In fact when I know how to annoy Miguel C reliably,
When I know how to figure out Clavdivs 'cos he's so damn crazy,
When I can spot a double post and shut down threads immediately,
And when I've found my true saviour and his name is Mathowie,

When I have learnt why all newbies aren't so bad at all,
And when I know that a new server will be working during this fall,
In short when I've two hundred posts to this web mailing list,
You'll say a better contributor will never be so missed,

(Repeat 'You'll say a...' three times)

For all my worldly experience although I claim to know it all,
Could barely serve to hold my own in a Mefi flame brawl,
But still, in matters topical and facts that always fail to bore,
I am the very model of a Mefi net contributor.
posted by adrianhon at 5:10 AM PST on September 3

Another relevant Gilbert & Sullivan tune would be "I've Got a Little List (they'll none of them be missed)"

A squadron of vibrating-broom riding monkeys should be dispatched to take care of hard butter once and for all. We must make the world safe for bread.

As a little kid I went to my grandma's house twice a week, where, while I was watching Captain Kangaroo and Bozo the Clown, I would be served hot buttered toast made in an iron skillet along with coffee with lots of evaporated milk and sugar...

Coffee DOES stunt your growth, but the memories are priceless.

And if you haven't tried your coffee with evaporated milk yet, don't be so sure you wouldn't like it. :-p

Man, we would have Sunday breakfasts that consisted of whatever the hell my dad felt like frying fried up in a pan. This could include some or all of the following:

Tomatoes
Eggs
Kidneys
Mushrooms
Bacon
Ham
Sausage

and the coup de grace was always the final frying item: Bread. Fried Bread!! What the hell is wrong with people?! Frying Bread?!?!?

It's like soaking up all the fat with a sponge and then eating it!

so, basically your father could bring home the bacon AND fry it up in a pan?

Strangely, no.

mmm...fried bread....

Donuts are fried bread, and there ain't nothing wrong with that.

As long as we live
Donuts are fried bread
and there ain't nothing wrong with that!

Yeah we're movin on up!
Movin on up!
To the East Side!
To a deeeeeeluxe apartment
In the sky-y-y!

Mo-ovin' on up!
Movin' on up!

*can't stop*

*help!*

If loving fried bread is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

better than beans and cornbread. almost.

So everyone eats fried bread? I'm -- I'm not alone?

Actually, no. I've never tried it, but it sounds de-lish.

I'm from New Orleans. HOME of fried bread.

nice to see fried bread finally going to a good home

Not just ANY fried bread. Fried in BUTTER!

By my great-grandma. That just made it taste even better.

She died at the age of 94,and was still cooking until about a year before that.

Take THAT, cholesterol!

Cafe du Monde! That place looks like Robin William's house after a party. During the 80's, of course.

from my honeymoon:

more available at the wonderful world of Nachtopus.net

mmmmmm ... powdered ten-dollar bill.

that's not sugar

Who's that creepy Richard Gere looking guy that I keep seeing in dem dar pictures?

kidding, kidding...

Funnel Cakes are fried bread. I grew up near the Navajo Reservation and they make wicked "Fry Bread." Also, most New Mexican restaurants serve sopaipillas with lots and lots of honey either with or after the meal.

... now if you'll excuse me, my sweet tooth is screaming for sugary sacrificies.

ahh...sopapillas....my husband is from out west and is picky about his Mexican food...when we were engaged he would take me to this cute little Mexican restaurant in Pensacola that still served cokes in little glass bottles-and hot puffy sopapillas with the requisite honey...*smile*

*singing appropo of nothing*

Oh, how I wish
I could be the mustard on your knish...

*singing appropo of nothing*

Oh, how I wish
I could be the mustard on your knish...

Is that Cafe Du Monde, Kafka?
I intelligently went the Johnny Cash route with my wardrobe on my visit there.
The breeze would pick up, and I'd suddenly be doing my best Tony Montana.

Or, I could have scrolled up 1/8th of an inch, and read witchstone's comment.

*Sigh*

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