Putt ... putt ... putt.

I used to have one named Putt. For good reason.

Drive you away, eh. Par for the course.

Shanked itself into the weeds years ago, thankfully.

Made you feel trapped, did it. That's the reason
many of my friends have given up on pets.

To me whole wheat pasta is worse than no pasta
at all. Not least because it seemt to come
pre-rancidized.

Some aren't that tasty, but sometimes it's good.

I seem to be a lot more sensitive to off flavors and
odors than many - mildew, for eample, and many kinds
of oxidation, such as maderization in wine (not
always a bad thing) and rancidization of oils and
whole grains and whatnot (almost always a bad thing).

Oddly, PEPCO, which was responsible for DC-area
electricity, had frequent outages due to exploding
transformers.

Lousy maintenance from the sounds of 'er. BOOM generally means
moisture got in there. Or a squirrel. Or some politicians. I'm not
sure why politicians would do the trick, but it's the DC area.

It's happened a couple times near the house in my
presence, which was maybe 250-300 days in 12 years.
I'm voting for lousy manufacture and kickbacks to
the utility executives from the suppliers.

corruption and incompetency stories kept people in
stitches all evening.

That's good for dinner, and lousy for anyone living with the consequences.

The stories were good for dinner and didn't affect those
living with the consequences.

Just as well. I just hope there weren't consequences from dinner.

Considering I cooked the majority of it, I hope not.
Two of the other guests are 89 going on 90, and so
far as I hear, they're still alive a week later.

True ... and they have usable train service.

You do as well, but only from the coastal corridor.

Like I said.

As I recall, the Connecticut Valley had extensive
flagstop service at one point with changes at New
Haven for either Boston or New York.

Sort of. Used to.

Things used to be possible if not easier. I remember
riding the milk train between Boston and New York in
the '70s - there were something like 5-8 stops between
Springfield and New Haven, some of them flags. Plus
one used to be able to flag unscheduled trains back
before the late 20th century - I used to date a woman
whose father would flag a freight train to the nearest
city and then take passenger service to his destination.
That was rural Maine, though, where any kind of human
contact is welcomed.

It was listed as a Rhode Island recipe, so it's fitting.

The author of that recipe was a Brown student.

Figures!

An Italian Brown student, not a brown student.

It's a loony left recipe, so the color of the student isn't relevant.

Turns out she is centrist-rightist with an emphasis on
the "right" part. This does not seem unusual for Brown
kids and East Greenwich kids. She's also an amazing
go-getter in a distinctly non-lefty way.

(except I've never heard of Black folk locally eating too many
avocados, never mind avocado salad.)

Black northeasterners, probably not so much, just because
of the calorie to dollar ratio, but there's a big world
to consider (including the US south), where the fruit are
more easily available and there's the possibility for the
less affluent to indulge.

Summerÿs End Fishwich with Lemon Cole Slaw
categories: sandwiches, Rhode Islander, Connecticuteer, seafood
Yield: 2

h - Lemon Cole Slaw
2 c red cabbage, shredded
2 md carrots, shredded
1 c white cabbage, shredded
1/2 lemon, juice of
1/2 ts salt
1/2 ts ground black pepper
1 c creamy Italian dressing or cole slaw dressing
h - Fishwich
1 1/2 c all-purpose flour
1 c milk (any type)
1 ts salt
1 ts ground black pepper
1 lb cod, cut into 4" filets
1/2 c canola or coconut oil
tartar sauce
brioche buns, toasted
Bibb lettuce
pickles (optional)

To make lemon cole slaw, mix all ingredients in a large
bowl until well combined. Set aside.

Whisk together flour, milk, salt, and black pepper in a
small bowl. Submerge cod filets in batter. Heat oil in
a large skillet over medium-low heat. Fry fish filets
in oil for 3-4 minutes on each side until fish is
golden brown. Transfer fish to paper towel lined dish.

To assemble sandwich, spread tartar sauce on brioche
buns. Add Bibb lettuce and then fish. Top with cole
slaw. Serve with pickles and fresh lemon. Eat!

Anessa Petteruti via Providence Journal
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* Origin: Fido Since 1991 | QWK by Web | BBS.DOCSPLACE.ORG (1:123/140)

Putt ... putt ... putt.

I used to have one named Putt. For good reason.

Drive you away, eh. Par for the course.

Shanked itself into the weeds years ago, thankfully.

Made you feel trapped, did it. That's the reason
many of my friends have given up on pets.

Putt was a car. Genie is the cat. She's more of a furry slave
driver, but I don't complain much.

To me whole wheat pasta is worse than no pasta
at all. Not least because it seemt to come
pre-rancidized.

Some aren't that tasty, but sometimes it's good.

I seem to be a lot more sensitive to off flavors and
odors than many - mildew, for eample, and many kinds
of oxidation, such as maderization in wine (not
always a bad thing) and rancidization of oils and
whole grains and whatnot (almost always a bad thing).

So one would think. I taste a lot of it, but sometimes simply ignore
it.

transformers.

Lousy maintenance from the sounds of 'er. BOOM generally means
moisture got in there. Or a squirrel. Or some politicians. I'm

not

sure why politicians would do the trick, but it's the DC area.

It's happened a couple times near the house in my
presence, which was maybe 250-300 days in 12 years.
I'm voting for lousy manufacture and kickbacks to
the utility executives from the suppliers.

That's always a possibility.

Just as well. I just hope there weren't consequences from

dinner.

Considering I cooked the majority of it, I hope not.
Two of the other guests are 89 going on 90, and so
far as I hear, they're still alive a week later.

One hopes. Or not. Some people react to things as simple as raw
vegetables in quantity. You don't generally have the problem of
course.

Things used to be possible if not easier. I remember
riding the milk train between Boston and New York in
the '70s - there were something like 5-8 stops between
Springfield and New Haven, some of them flags. Plus
one used to be able to flag unscheduled trains back
before the late 20th century - I used to date a woman
whose father would flag a freight train to the nearest
city and then take passenger service to his destination.
That was rural Maine, though, where any kind of human
contact is welcomed.

That was in the days when there were real railroads instead of what
we've got now.

An Italian Brown student, not a brown student.

It's a loony left recipe, so the color of the student isn't

relevant.

Turns out she is centrist-rightist with an emphasis on
the "right" part. This does not seem unusual for Brown
kids and East Greenwich kids. She's also an amazing
go-getter in a distinctly non-lefty way.

Except when she eats? That happens.

(except I've never heard of Black folk locally eating too many
avocados, never mind avocado salad.)

Black northeasterners, probably not so much, just because
of the calorie to dollar ratio, but there's a big world
to consider (including the US south), where the fruit are
more easily available and there's the possibility for the
less affluent to indulge.

I even put the question out on Facebook. The only "yes I eat that"
answers came from Caucasians and Spanish of assorted varieties. Go
figure. It's probably different when people can grow their own.
--- Platinum Xpress/Win/WINServer v3.0pr5
* Origin: Fido Since 1991 | QWK by Web | BBS.DOCSPLACE.ORG (1:123/140)