Category Archives: Hchom

So Heinz baked beans are perfectly fine, and there’s nothing wrong with them, and I eat them all the time. But I when I buy something for myself, be it food, or clothing, or sundry item, I want to imagine that somebody out there put a particular hands-on attention into designing and making it. And maybe even they liked doing it, because that is their favourite thing in life, crafting whatever that object is. This is a crazy fixation of mine, and it means that I sometimes spend a really, seriously stupid amount of money on things. But I’m so into it, see? The crafting of stuff.

And wouldn’t it be nice, if there was somebody who was really, really dedicated to making the perfect baked beans? And wouldn’t you want to be friends with that person, or at least know where to find that product? They might make unusual flavours. Maple syrup and cranberry, for instance. Molasses and sausage? Yes. Spicy curry. It would be the best thing ever.

I’ve eaten a muffin from Our Town Cafe almost every day since I’ve moved here. Really, they have the best muffins ever, wodgy and substantial. But for weeks and weeks, while sampling every kind they carried, I avoided their selection of vegan, and can you even believe it, no-sugar muffins. I’ve had the odd good vegan muffin in my day, usually thoroughly de-veganed with an unreasonable quantity of butter, but no sugar? Do they come with hair shirts and rods of flagellation?

Of course, one day they were almost sold out of muffins, and I was forced to try one, and hot damn, they were fantastic. If I don’t have one every morning for breakfast, now, then I’m a petulant wreck. Go figure.

My Scary Deadline foods of choice, at present, are meringues and strawberries. Though really they are just a stand-in for rice pudding, which nobody carries in the summer, but I’ve been yearning for it, and making Brandon walk with me to the grocery store every evening to check if any has been made.

Yesterday Claire and Brandon and I hit up ABC books on Broadway. I bought a nice chewy fantasy novel as deadline comfort reading. It had an odd fuzzy sticker on the inside front, which endeared me to it further.

And as the jewel in the crown of the day, I had a look at the sale at my favourite store, and they had just brought out from their back rooms the shirt I’d been fixated on all last year (and had thought was long sold out), now much reduced in price. Long-scattered stars aligned, and a bolt of light fell from the heavens, and I was proven the true and rightful King of England. Best shirt ever. Plus they gave me another chocolate bar.

Yoshi Kondo shirt.

I had some extra money from doing commissions, so I bought this at Lark. They even gave me a chocolate bar.

My life is perfect, and I will die happy.

Except that now I have to go work.

Things from Ganache. Fluffy little rum vanilla cakes of some sort, and sponge toffee. Whenever I go downtown, it becomes a quest for tasty things.

This toast knows what it’s all about.

They had these giant glass shinies at the dollar store. I needed one for my hoard. The waffle was damn tasty, too. It had little bits of crystalized sugar in it, so they paired oddly well.

And when I got back from Saturna, David had painted this garbage can and left it on my desk. I’m preparing my response, now.

Treasure.

Plump breads.

Tuna casserole, and hard little lozenges of corn bread.

Dog of the sea.

Tea snacks.