Zen, you can also make mayo in a blender, which is a lot less whisking.

I dunno, but I think I'd rather be a Man-pony than a confused horse. At least a Man-pony knows what he is!

Of course, then your name would be Schmacky.

Yeah, but then you have to clean a blender afterwards when you COULD be making a BLT with homemade mayo.

[Also I don't have a blender-mayo recipe memorized. When I want to make some right away, whisking is faster 'cause I can just grab an egg and go.]

Gronk. I think I have reached my Good Deed Quota for the year now.

Last night after the first Olympians show, I went out with the cast to a bar, and as the night wound down, I offered rides, as I am wont to do. I gathered a caravan of women, taking one to Inner Richmond and one to the Mission ("Where do you live?" "Oakland." "Oh, so you're just being kind."). It was now one in the morning, and my final charge, whom I'd met in the Theban Chronicles, was a few blocks away.

Except she was frantically searching through her purse. Because she had forgotten her keys at work. And her roommate was out of town. And she lived on the fourth floor. And her "office" was her boss's house. She tried calling various people she knew in the city in hopes of finding a place to crash, but no one picked up. The one person that did pick up...she had forgotten lived in Oakland.

So I took her back to my place so she wouldn't have to sleep on her doorstep. She kept asking if it was okay, and I kept telling her there wasn't really any other option. Hell, I had convinced her not to get a second drink; if she hadn't come with me and had just taken a cab or Muni home before discovering she was locked out, she would have been even more fucked.

Then this morning I got up stupid early so I could get her to West Portal by 8 (a half-hour car ride vs. a two-hour ride on BART and Muni). She bought me breakfast, but she's also trying to think of what the hell she could possibly do to repay me.

Then again, we did have this conversation on the way back to Oakland:

"Guys like to feel useful."
"I especially."
"You're welcome!"
"Thank you for making me feel useful."

P.-C., you're a good guy.

Thanks for the how-to-make-mayo, Jessica and Vortex!

I love iced tea, but I do not love sweet drinks. I wany my iced tea to taste like TEA.

I hate sweet tea. Mighty Leaf has some fruit flavored teas that aren't sweet, but my current iced tea is the 1 liter Tejava (available at TJ's). I drink three or four bottles a day.

then add the oil in a thin stream, whisking constantly

OK, how do you do that? I can't whisk anything unless I'm holding the bowl with my left hand and whisking with my right, and then I have no more hands with which to pour the thin stream of oil.

Grow a third arm, Zaphod.

-t, you need to have the bowl on something that'll keep it from scooting across the counter; I use a rubber glove (the cuff part, not the hand part ... just to overclarify). A towel might work, too.

-t makes a good point. I can see myself making a huge mess. I don't think a towel or rubber thing would stop me from whisking the bowl right off the counter. See, this is why I don't cook! Too dangerous.