Ooh, we've got a goodly store of smoked paprika, and we may already have some liquid smoke too. Thanks, Hil!

Today was one of those days everyone should be grateful I don't have access to nukes.

Foul enough mood that while I may box up the cookies tonight, but I am unfit to deliver them.

"Let me lick you up and down until you stay stop."

Sorry, I'm stuck in a time/genre warp.

What's a good (or anyhow adequate) vegetarian-friendly (for very loose values of vegetarian, obviously, since we're talking about fish soup in the first place) substitute that'll add some nice salty smoky density to it without any actual pig?

Thanks--I think it worked out pretty well. Well enough that I'll be sharing it with the neighbors tomorrow, anyway (I like the neighbors). I think the pig bits are as much for fat as for flavor. (Although the flavor they add is very nice.) So I'd go with the smoked paprika and liquid smoke, and then be sure to add a fair bit of extra oil. Maybe double the butter? Olive oil is my usual go-to, but I'm not sure it's right here. Maybe canola oil or something else that isn't going to add flavor that goes in an unexpected direction. And you'll probably need to salt it more at the end, since the potatoes will take a fair bit of that out of the picture.

Late to the party, as usual. Sue and Juliana, I'm so sorry--they're with us for just too short a time.

I'm thinking of adding butterscotch chips to the flourless oatmeal cookies instead of craisins. Opinions?

And "When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me..." and so on.

Also, "You, darkness, that I come from
I love you more than all the fires
that fence in the world,
for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone
and then no one outside learns of you.

But the darkness pulls in everything-
shapes and fires, animals and myself,
how easily it gathers them-
powers and people-

it is possible a great presence is moving near me.

I have faith in nights."

And not forgetting, "How shall I hold my soul, that it may not
be touching yours? How shall I lift it then
above you to where other things are waiting?
Ah, gladly would I lodge it, all-forgot,
with some lost thing the dark is isolating
on some remote and silent spot that, when
your depths vibrate, is not itself vibrating.
You and me-all that lights upon us, though,
brings us together like a fiddle-bow
drawing one voice from two strings it glides along.
Across what instrument have we been spanned?
And what violinist holds us in his hand?
O sweetest song."

Thank you, Ron Perlman and Beauty and the Beast. The last two are translations of Rilke, and let me tell you, I went through bookstores and libraries, rejecting volume after volume until I found those precise translations, because having heard them first, no others ever sounded right, even if they were more literal, or more literary translations. The heart loves what the ear hears...or something.

And since about fourth grade I'm incapable of seeing anything a moon anywhere close to full on a cloudy night without being haunted by: "And still, of a wintry night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
And the moon is a ghostly galleon, toss'd upon cloudy seas,
And the road is a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor
The Highwayman comes riding, riding, riding
The Highwayman comes riding up to the old inn door."

"... and he lay in his blood on the highway, with a clutch of lace at his throat."

Yes, yes he did. Dammit.

Ooh, we've got a goodly store of smoked paprika

Smoked paprika is SO GOOD on roasted cauliflower.

I am so sad that I remember the hook of a poem I composed in high school. I wish I could remember the whole thing--it was a Michael Jackson/Nik Kershaw blend, with maybe some Robin of Sherwood (that's the UK Michael Praed series, in case I got the name wrong)--it was called "The Hooded Man."

But right now I can quote only SPN and Buffy quotes. And the odd Firefly (sorry Angel!).

"Boys II Men going on, not too hard, not to strong."

Oh, yeah, and lyrics from the golden age of hip hop (don't argue, I'm old, but not OLD old).

Oh, and just as a bonus, IO9 got me to read this story by Bradbury which I'd somehow forgotten to back when I was going through his work: [link]

"Full Fathom five my father lies

His bones they are of coral made

Those are the pearls that were his eyes

And nothing of him doth fade

But he doth suffer a sea change

Into something rich and strange

Sea Nymphs hourly ring his knell

Ding dong, Ding dong, Ding dong Bell

I was a great memorizer - could memorize as much stuff as I wanted, and it would fade when I no longer needed it. But I never memorized that one. It just stuck. And unlike what I deliberately memorized stayed with me.