Despite living in a red state, I'm frequently confused by the behavior of its denizens. And there is a lot about Southern people that strikes me strange, but I've not spent more than one night in Texas or something. I hope I've never allowed it to become like hate though. If I have, I'm sorry. I also apologize for watching the South turn red on election night and mumbling "Fuckers! We should've let 'em go when we had the chance." It was a momentary lapse and I didn't mean anything against anybody's sister or anything. But I did it, and I should own up. "What do you like about yourself?" Are you sure you wouldn't rather ask me how they suck the water out of Tulane? I can google it. Uh, I guess my way with words? DW, if you want to leave, you don't need to on my account.I think you fit fine.

Yeast-feeding is a whole other thing. If sugar (or any reasonable facsimile or substitute) is itself a substantial ingredient, not there to help something else along but purely for its own sake, it's cake. In my brain, sugar that's helping yeast be yeasty is like a whole other thing. If that's all it's doing in the recipe, it's bread.

This is all so very much ex cloaca I can't even tell you, but I stand by it nonetheless.

My eye seems to be fine. A little weepy, but not in an oh my god BUFFY DIED!!!1! kind of way...

Are you saying that if you can taste the sugar it's cake, JZ? Because I swear Wonder Bread is sweet (not to mention challah or hard dough bread).

Not just if I can taste it, but if the sweetness is one of the main points of the whole enterprise (or possibly the entire point). I can taste the sugar in challah, but there's other stuff going on, and I've had challah that was more sweet, less sweet, and really not very sweet at all, but still clearly and distinctly challah. Un-sweet cake to me is cake with no point, cake of unreason.

Also, Wonder Bread has no point, and really no earthly justification, except for sculpting and wadding up into small projectile weapons.

My position paper on the muffin, with several appendices on improper bagelry, is not yet completed, but whatever the final work turns out to be, it will be dwarfed by the towering achievement of R. Hernandez's stunning thesis Eat A Muffin, Whitey! Truly I shall be but a dwarf standing on the shoulders of a giant.

My ass has spoken.

What makes challah for me is the egg, the texture, and the color.

I am not here.

No, really.

Okay, I am, but pay no attention.

No, really.

I'm just hiding over in this part of the room because the painting on the drawing board keeps giving me a look. Y'know that look. The look that says, "Oh, c'mon. I'm easy; you can paint this, it'll be no problemo. C'mon, slap some paint on, y'know you want to."

It lies.

Painting never gets any easier. So, d'ya thing my time away from Buffistas has improved my sanity? No, me neither...

Cake and bread are like art and/or porn: I know it when I see it.

I love Leif's new way of saying he's hungry or full. Hungry is "my tummy is sad", while full is "my tummy is happy".

I am SO using this! (FTR, my tummy is currently happy -- chicken/apple sausage and sweet potato fries. Possibly some veggies momentarily.)

Tried the painting upside down approach, Pete?

Tried the painting upside down approach, Pete?

The blood rushes to my head and I get a headache, so not much use.

Nah, it's no good when you're dealing with facets of form that need to be accurate.

eta: Though sometimes, checking out the image in a mirror helps.