No one should be without banana pudding. The entire world would benefit both physically and emotionally from a big dose. Unfortunately, as of several months ago, vanilla wafers have been notably absent from our stores here.
There is a specialty store not far from my house that specializes in stuff imported from the U.S., such as fondant for cakes, spices, buckwheat pancake mix, etc. They may or may not have vanilla wafers, but the prices in the place are outrageous. It's cheaper to drive to Laredo and stock up on cooking ingredients. But never fear, the Internet is here!
Yes, it's true, I found a recipe for vanilla wafers. I will report on the results as soon as I have a chance to try it out. Banana pudding looms in my future, and probably on my butt as well.
viernes, 6 de abril de 2012
A claim to fame...
Today I managed to trot over a kilometer, with the Toots acting like a totally civilized dog. Now he pays attention to verbal corrections, and it looks like we are on our way.
After Beto staggered away from the table after lunch (sweet potato stuffed ravioli with brown butter and hazelnut sauce, smoked porkchop with fresh, roasted pineapple, and fig and arugula salad with prosciutto and shaved parmigiano cheese), it brought to mind that Monterrey has the dubious claim to fame of having had, at one point, the world's two fattest men living here.
They were HUGE. Their legs were so fat that the couldn't keep them together, and they stuck out at right angles to their bodies. In fact, you would be hard pressed even to identify the limbs as legs, since they had no real recognizable shape. "Grotesque" doesn't cover it.
One of these men literally ate himself to death, and the other pleaded for help and got it. Hordes of people descended upon his humble abode, put him on a diet, helped him exercise even while bed-ridden. (Neither of these men had gotten out of bed in years since neither could move under his own steam.) This man probably no longer holds the record as the world's fattest man, because he has lost a couple of hundred pounds and seems to be forging ahead with his diet and exercise program. I think he still hasn't gotten out of bed on his own, although he has been hauled out by pulley and taken for medical evaluations.
Let's face it, these men are the victims of attempted--or successful--murder. If you are bedridden, you can't chow down unless someone brings you the masses of calories and crap that are keeping you too fat to move. One of the mothers was interviewed for the Discovery Channel (and surely there are others things more inspiring to discover than this), and she was a humble, passive woman who seemed simple-minded, no doubt trained from birth to cater to everyone's needs except her own. She was no sylph herself, mind you, but it is probable that no one every taught her anything about nutrition. She entered into the diet regime with gusto, though, so her heart is in the right place. According to her, her son threw such temper tantrums when he didn't get enough food that she would wind up giving in. They live in a tiny house with only three or four rooms, so maybe she was afraid the neighbors would intervene if he kept up the ranting. Poor woman!
Every now and then, our local paper comes out with some article about this man, and believe you me, I've seen enough of him. I'm not amused by his massive self, unable to wear clothes in the summer because nothing fits him, wrapped barely in a sheet. But morbidity seems to be the byword in television viewing too, so if you want to look up this individual, just google "world's fattest man", and you may find him even though he has probably lost his title by now. But you never know.
After Beto staggered away from the table after lunch (sweet potato stuffed ravioli with brown butter and hazelnut sauce, smoked porkchop with fresh, roasted pineapple, and fig and arugula salad with prosciutto and shaved parmigiano cheese), it brought to mind that Monterrey has the dubious claim to fame of having had, at one point, the world's two fattest men living here.
They were HUGE. Their legs were so fat that the couldn't keep them together, and they stuck out at right angles to their bodies. In fact, you would be hard pressed even to identify the limbs as legs, since they had no real recognizable shape. "Grotesque" doesn't cover it.
One of these men literally ate himself to death, and the other pleaded for help and got it. Hordes of people descended upon his humble abode, put him on a diet, helped him exercise even while bed-ridden. (Neither of these men had gotten out of bed in years since neither could move under his own steam.) This man probably no longer holds the record as the world's fattest man, because he has lost a couple of hundred pounds and seems to be forging ahead with his diet and exercise program. I think he still hasn't gotten out of bed on his own, although he has been hauled out by pulley and taken for medical evaluations.
Let's face it, these men are the victims of attempted--or successful--murder. If you are bedridden, you can't chow down unless someone brings you the masses of calories and crap that are keeping you too fat to move. One of the mothers was interviewed for the Discovery Channel (and surely there are others things more inspiring to discover than this), and she was a humble, passive woman who seemed simple-minded, no doubt trained from birth to cater to everyone's needs except her own. She was no sylph herself, mind you, but it is probable that no one every taught her anything about nutrition. She entered into the diet regime with gusto, though, so her heart is in the right place. According to her, her son threw such temper tantrums when he didn't get enough food that she would wind up giving in. They live in a tiny house with only three or four rooms, so maybe she was afraid the neighbors would intervene if he kept up the ranting. Poor woman!
Every now and then, our local paper comes out with some article about this man, and believe you me, I've seen enough of him. I'm not amused by his massive self, unable to wear clothes in the summer because nothing fits him, wrapped barely in a sheet. But morbidity seems to be the byword in television viewing too, so if you want to look up this individual, just google "world's fattest man", and you may find him even though he has probably lost his title by now. But you never know.
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)