although my olives are less green and my hands are more purple.
I’ve started so I’ll finish. I’m making a bread oven / pizza oven / oven-type-thing, down the steps towards the fish pond, and (as is the bread oven way) I’m going to try and document the process with images and a few notes. In planning and executing this oven, I’m trying to balance a desire to read about, and factor in, other overneers’ tips and experiences with two stupider and related inclinations: i) to try and ‘do something a bit different’, and ii) to rely upon my own oven making instincts. We’ll see. If you’re an oven maker (with a finished oven, or a patch of turf and a dream) and have anything you want to suggest or ask, then do get in touch.
I’ll start uploading photos when I can find the damned connector thing for the camera. Meanwhile, I should reveal, up front, what my secret ingredient is going to be: pumice.
According to Montana bread expert Suki Kitchen of the Helena Independent Record, serving the town of Helena, Montana, “tucked along the crooked path where Last Chance Stream once meandered” – Suki Kitchen? really? – well according to Suki:
The only thing better than walking into a room filled with the smell of baked bread is taking a warm bite from the slice in your hand.
Usually I’d defer to Ms Kitchen on matters bread-related, but I have to say that’s not the only thing better. What about when supermodel and actress Devon Aoki turns up at the marina in just her pants with a bag full of bread, and a car boot full of bread, and her head made entirely of bread?
I would say that is better.
Life is good at the British Potato Council.
I mean, not only do they get all the potatoes they want, and get to call themselves a Council, they also have people pay them money:
We are funded through a statutory levy on 5,500 potato growers and potato purchasers and we aim to stimulate, develop and promote the GB industry to consumers and our customers.
And what do they do with this money? Well, mainly this:
Which, in practical terms, means doing things like getting Sharron Davies to tell us why she thinks potatoes are like the best thing ever and what her favourite potato is:
“Potatoes epitomise British food, theyâ€™re versatile, they taste great and they are healthy too. They are perfect for making quick, simple and nutritious meals – for me nothing can beat a delicious baked potato. An Estima is an ideal choice for a baked potato.”
So. Sharron Davies likes the Estima. That much we know. Does that come under Research & Development?
Just how queasy do you currently feel? Not queasy enough, I fear. If you really want to feel the bile rise, click here to watch a properly sick video. (You might need to repeat it a couple of times before vomiting).
It’s the heavy breathing in the background that really gets to me.
and my heart is tired from pies
I give us all another 6 years.
“Oh, it’s at the Art Museum. It’s martinis. That sounds like a really nice sophisticated event. We should be a part of it, and we had no idea,” said Erinn Lobdell of Glow Salon & Spa. The salon had a booth at the first-annual MartiniFest, a semi- formal event organized by Clear Channel Radio.
“You could see the crowd. It started out really nice. Everybody was having fun, and then, somewhere along the line it turned into the most drunk people I have ever seen in my life,” Lobdell said.
“Hindsight is 20-20 . . . it was probably too cheap,” Kerry Wolfe, a local programming director for Clear Channel, said of the event’s premise: unlimited martinis for $30.
“In our five years of experience, we have never had any problems with rental events,” David Gordon, the museum’s director, said in a brief written statement responding to questions about the event. “It was not an appropriate event to be held in the museum, and we have reviewed our procedures for bookings.”
As was the case with prior events, the sculptures lining one of the long gallerias in the museum’s Calatrava-designed building were in close proximity to serving areas during Martinifest. But this time, food, drink and vomit were on and around some of the artworks by night’s end, according to some accounts.
“It was crazy,” said attendee Kathleen Christians, 39. “People were shoving people over. People were getting sick, screaming, shouting, messing with the artwork.”
A group of four young men climbed onto “Standing Woman,” a tall, bronze sculpture of a goddess-like woman with exaggerated features by early 20th-century American artist Gaston Lachaise. “They were standing on it, grabbing the boobs, and somebody was just taking pictures with a cell phone,” said Laura Collins, 35.
Asked whether artworks had been damaged or are in need of cleaning, the museum said two sculptures had been removed for “review” and more would be known in two weeks, after the senior conservator returns to the museum and has had a look. The sculptures are made from resilient materials such as bronze.
“We were hoping for a little sophistication, maybe,” said Casey Rataczak, 27, a bartender. “People were shoving their martini glasses in my face. . . they were just worked up about getting their booze.”
At the event, several vendors ran out of food, drink mix and vodka early on. Some who ran out of mix started pouring straight shots of vodka, according to several accounts.Â
“We were sardined in,” said Collins, a first-time museum visitor. “People, boy, they wanted their martinis.”
Denise Curran, 34, a lab technician who was injured when someone leaned onto a table that fell onto her legs, said, “You couldn’t go anywhere, there was no flow.”
“My whole calf is one big, nasty bruise,” she added.
“We had seen this girl who had fallen,” said Jamie Zwicky, 29, an emergency room nurse who attended the event. “She had a laceration on her head and some blood coming down . . . she looked very intoxicated.”
A man who got into what Wolfe called a “family feud” with another man jumped from an outside terrace on the south side of the museum, several reported. The hospital where the man was taken told Wolfe the man was going to be fine.
Zwicky said that when she left about 11 p.m., four ambulances were outside the museum; Wolfe insisted there were two.