Milk Ads Quotes

Frank stared at her. "But you throw Ding Dongs at monsters." Iris looked horrified. "Oh, they're not Ding Dongs." She rummaged under the counter and brought out a package of chocolate covered cakes that looked exactly like Ding Dongs. "These are gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulations." "All natural!" Fleecy chimed in. "I stand corrected." Frank suddenly felt as queasy as Percy.

today, I added a new concoction to my recuperative regime; I began drinking honey and milk. Taken together, they form a powerful antioxidant that has been used by many cultures for centuries. As the saying goes—“ it couldn’t hurt.

Honey or condensed milk with your bread?” he was so excited that he said, “Both,” and then, so as not to seem greedy, he added, “but don’t bother about the bread, please.

He met his day in the shower, washing his hair with shampoo that was guaranteed to have never been put in a bunny's eyes and from which ten percent of the profits went to save the whales. He lathered his face with shaving cream free of chlorofluorocarbons, thereby saving the ozone layer. He breakfasted on fertile eggs laid by sexually satisfied chickens that were allowed to range while listening to Brahms, and muffins made with pesticide-free grain, so no eagle-egg shells were weakened by his thoughtless consumption. He scrambled the eggs in margarine free of tropical oils, thus preserving the rain forest, and he added milk from a cartn made of recycled paper and shipped from a small family farm. By the time he finished his second cup of coffee, which would presumably help to educate the children of a poor peasant farmer named Juan Valdez, Sam was on the verge of congratulating himself for single-handedly preserving the planet just by getting up in the morning.

She had gradually changed her name. "Jane" was too dull. Last year, she'd added a "y", becoming Jayne, which had more personality.

And if you have any doubts," Peter added, "Corinithians overtly tells us that the parables have two layers of meaning: 'milk for babes and meat for men - where the milk is watered-down reading for infantile minds, and the meat is the true message, accessible only to mature minds.

Aw, he's just you know...entrenched," Matt said. "Gotta adjust to the perspective and deal from there." Then he added, "Not that I'd want him as my dad...." Mike practically sprayed his milk. "Dude! Can you imagine?" Then Matt gave my dad a slap on the back and said, "No way. I'm sticking with my main man here." My mom grinned from across the kitchen and said, "Me too." I'd never seen my father cry. And he didn't exactly sit there bawling, but there were definitely tears welling up in his eyes.

Don’t worry,” he said letting me go and adding a brownie and chocolate milk to my tray. “All they see is me fucking with you. They’d never suspect—” “That you were serious?” He grinned to himself and dumped a bag of pretzels and some French fries on my tray. “No, that you like me.

But now? Now? Children in the twentieth and this early twenty-first century hated the Alice books, couldn't read them, and why should they? Their world had strayed into madness long ago. Look at the planet. Rain is acid, poisonous. Sun causes cancer. Sex=death. Children murder other children. Parents lie, leaders lie, the churches have less moral credibility than Benetton ads. And the faces of missing children staring out from milk cartons-imagine all those poor Lost Boys, and Lost Girls, not in Neverland but lost here, lost now. No wonder Wonderland isn't funny anymore: We live there full-time. We need a break from it.

The ads have also helped manufacture a sense of panic about time, depicting families so rushed and harried in the morning that there is no time to make breakfast, not even to pour some milk over a bowl of cereal. No, the only hope is to munch on a cereal bar (iced with synthetic “milk” frosting) in the bus or car. (Tell me: Why can’t these hassled families set their alarm clocks, like, ten minutes earlier?!)

Every man, when he first sees light, is commanded to be content with milk and rags. Such is our beginning, and yet kingdoms are all too small for us!

He wasn’t quite sure when he made it, somewhere between turning on the shower and stepping in, perhaps, or pouring the milk and adding the cereal, or maybe a dozen tiny decisions had added up like letters until they finally made a word, a phrase, a sentence.

Non è cattivo l'amore siamo cattivi noi l'amore non è un gioco siamo noi ad aver reso l'amore un gioco

Il modo in cui ti ami è il modo in cui insegni ad altri ad amarti

I closed my eyes, flared my nostrils, and let the scents flood in. The strongest of them, caramel and brown sugar, smell as yellow-orange as the sun, came first. That one was easy. The one that anyone would notice coming into the shop. And then chocolate of course, the bitter dark and the sugary milk chocolate. I don’t think a normal girl would’ve smelled anything else, and part of me wanted to stop there. But I could feel Sam’s heart pounding behind me, and for once, I gave in. Peppermint swirled into my nostrils, sharp as glass, then raspberry, almost too sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple, crisp and pure. Nuts, buttery, warm, earthy, like Sam. The subtle, mild scent of white chocolate. Oh, God, some sort of mocha, rich and dark and sinful. I sighed with pleasure, but there was more. The butter cookies on the shelves added a floury, comforting scent, and the lollipops, a riot of fruit scents too concentrated to be real. The salty bite of pretzels, the bright smell of lemon, the brittle edge of anise. Smells I didn’t even know names for. I groaned.

What You Need to Cut from Your Diet: 1.   Vegetable oil 2.   Added sugar and honey (to tea, coffee, etc.) 3.   Soda 4.   Juice, except fresh squeezed. (Why not just eat the fruit? It’s got more fiber and more antioxidants!) 5.   Energy bars and “health” bars 6.   Boxed cereals 7.   Fried fast foods 8.   Powdered “proteins,” and powdered milk 9.   Salad dressings made with any kind of vegetable oil, including canola 10. Low-fat products, including milk, cheese, salad dressings, cookies, and other baked goods 11. Snacks and desserts—if you want to lose weight

The average American now consumes 46 slices of pizza, 200 pounds of meat, and 607 pounds of milk and other dairy products, and washes it down with 57 gallons of soda pop a year. We consume 8,000 teaspoons of added sugar and 79 pounds of fat annually. We eat 4.5 billion pounds of fries and 2 billion pounds of chips a year.

Apropos of Eskimo, I once heard a missionary describe the extraordinary difficulty he had found in translating the Bible into Eskimo. It was useless to talk of corn or wine to a people who did not know even what they meant, so he had to use equivalents within their powers of comprehension. Thus in the Eskimo version of the Scriptures the miracle of Cana of Galilee is described as turning the water into blubber; the 8th verse of the 5th chapter of the First Epistle of St. Peter ran: ‘Your adversary the devil, as a roaring Polar bear walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.’ In the same way ‘A land flowing with milk and honey’ became ‘A land flowing with whale’s blubber,’ and throughout the New Testament the words ‘Lamb of God’ had to be translated ‘little Seal of God,’ as the nearest possible equivalent. The missionary added that his converts had the lowest opinion of Jonah for not having utilised his exceptional opportunities by killing and eating the whale.

There was a rhythm to the process. First, a pot of equal parts water and milk was put on the hob. To this, Camellia added a few spoons of Assamese tea, two slices of ginger, and a fistful of fresh lemongrass leaves and mint. After arriving at a gentle boil, a tablespoon of sugar went in, and the brew cooked for five minutes.

I suggested she write down her thoughts" He said, "...and, well, my daughter is a very thorough woman." "I can see that." Waxillium said. "I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk" Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear "She seems likely to throw a cow at you just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

Knowing no better, they are content to drop a bag of poorest quality blended tea into a mug, scald it with boiling water, and then dilute any remaining flavour by adding fridge-cold milk. Once again, for some reason, it is I who am considered strange. But if you’re going to drink a cup of tea, why not take every care to maximize the pleasure?

For decades, chalk and alum have been added to bread, and burnt corn and peas ground up to make coffee. Vinegar is rendered sharper by the addition of sulphuric acid, arrowroot is added to milk to thicken it, mustard is eked out with flour, strychnine is added to beer for bitterness and green vitriol to encourage a foaming head. And these are but the harmless manipulations.

Sir Thomas More, son of Sir John More, a justice of the King's Bench, was born in 1478, in Milk Street, in the city of London. After his earlier education at St. Anthony's School, in Threadneedle Street, he was placed, as a boy, in the household of Cardinal John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Chancellor. It was not unusual for persons of wealth or influence and sons of good families to be so established together in a relation of patron and client. The youth wore his patron's livery, and added to his state. The patron used, afterwards, his wealth or influence in helping his young client forward in the world. Cardinal Morton had been in earlier days that Bishop of Ely whom Richard III. sent to the Tower; was busy afterwards in hostility to Richard; and was a chief adviser of Henry VII., who in 1486 made him Archbishop of Canterbury, and nine months afterwards Lord Chancellor. Cardinal Morton—of talk at whose table there are recollections in "Utopia"—delighted in the quick wit of young Thomas More. He once said, "Whoever shall live to try it, shall see this child here waiting at table prove a notable and rare man.

but be sure not to have it boil. Remove from the fire, and add a piece of butter the size of an egg. This is sufficient for eight people. =Potato Soup= 4 Potatoes 3 Pints of Milk Piece of Butter size of an Egg Small piece of Onion Take four large potatoes, boil until done and mash smooth, adding butter and salt to taste. Heat the milk in a double boiler, cook the onion in it a few minutes and then

I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk,” Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear. “As she seems likely to throw a cow at you, just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

Les pieds de Dieu. Do not tell my superior, but the smell of God’s feet is heaven to me.” The monk smiled. Threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Eight months ago I added milk, rennet, and a little salt together in a wooden vat. Pressed it, shaped it, and put it on the shelf to age. Today I have a delicious cheese to share with a guest. But the flavor, monsieur, that grows from something I did not add.

We had a strict routine that nothing could change: we'd get up at six, and it would be my job or Meinhard's to get milk from the farm door. When w were a little older and starting to play sports, exercises were added to the chores, and we had to earn our breakfast by doing sit-ups. In the afternoon, we'd finish our homework and chores, and my father would make us practice soccer no matter how bad the weather was.

Galen picking you up for school?" "No, I'm driving myself." Vinegar turns to acid. Sure, it's irritating to take a lukewarm shower when you intended to scald the flesh from your body. But not being able to see Galen today is more disappointing than not having hot water all winter. And I hate it. Spending all of yesterday with him slaughtered my intention of keeping him at a distance. Even if he weren't worthy of his own billboard underwear ad, he's just too likeable. Except for his habit of almost-kissing me. But his obsession with trying to order me around is too cute. Especially the way his mouth gets all pouty when I don't listen. "You two fighting already?" She's fishing, but for what I don't know. Shrugging seems safe until I can figure out what she wants to hear. "Do you fight often?" Shrugging again, I ladle enough oatmeal into my mouth to make talking impossible for at least a minute, which is more than enough time for her to drop it. It doesn't work. After the exaggerated minute, I reach for my glass of milk. "You know, if he ever hit you-" The glass in mid-tilt, I swallow before the milk can escape through my nose. "Mom, he would never hit me!" "I didn't say he would." "Good, because he wouldn't. Ever. What's with you? Do you have to interrogate me about Galen every time you see me?" This time she shrugs. "Seems like the right thing to do. When you have children, you'll understand." "I'm not stupid. If Galen acts up, I'll either dump him or kill him. You have my word." Mom laughs and butters my muffin. "I guess I can't ask for more than that." Accepting the muffin-and the truce-I say, "Nope. Anything more would be unreasonable." "Just remember, I'm watching you like a hawk. Except for right now, because I'm going to bed.

The first time Olly's dad gets afternoon drunk--violent drunk... He'd been home all day, arguing with financial news shows on television. One of the anchors mentioned the name of his old company, and he raged. He poured whiskey into a tall glass and then added vodka and gin. He mixed them together... until the mixture was no longer the pale amber color of whiskey and looked like water instead. Olly watched the color fade in the glass and remembered the day his dad got fired and how he'd been too afraid to comfort him. What if he had--would things be different now? What if? He remembered how his dad had said that one thing doesn't always lead to another. He remembered sitting at the breakfast bar and stirring the milk and chocolate together. How the chocolate turned white, and the milk turned brown, and how sometimes you can't unmix things no matter how much you might want to.

The trend is for the following new coffee drinks: espresso, a shot of hot strong caffè served in a small cup with hot cream and sweetener; cappuccino, a blend of espresso and steamed and foamed hot milk; caffè latte, same ingredients as cappuccino but with more steamed and less foamed milk; and cafe mocha, mostly steamed milk with a shot of espresso and mocha syrup. All these coffees may have cinnamon, chocolate, plus additional flavors added.Δ

He could smell the readiness of onion in every one of its stages of cooking and knew exactly what stage worked best for each dish. He could identify the exact rapidity with which milk had to boil before adding the lemon to make the cheese curd separate into paneer. He could sense exactly when to add the tomatoes to tie together the onion, garlic, and ginger so that the curry came together perfectly with the oil separating from it in syrupy rivulets.

Even today, chocolate is made by fermenting the beans for several days to allow richer and more complex flavors to emerge. They are then dried, roasted, and cracked open so that the nibs—the meaty part of the bean—can be extracted. The nibs are ground into a powder or paste that, along with a little sugar, becomes dark chocolate. If milk is added, it becomes milk chocolate. And if the fat, called cacao butter, is extracted by itself and mixed with sugar, that is white chocolate.

I was in the mood for some savory scones- I couldn't eat only sweet things, no matter what Mrs. T said. I cut cold butter into flour with my pastry blender, added minced sun-dried tomatoes, fresh Parmesan, salt and pepper, sprinkled in oregano, and then, on a whim, tossed in crushed fennel seeds. I mixed in an egg and some milk. I kneaded the dough a few times, cut out rounds, and plopped them on a cookie sheet. I brushed the tops with more milk and slid the sheet into the hot oven.

Sulphuric acid was added to vinegar for extra sharpness, chalk to milk, turpentine to gin. Arsenite of copper was used to make vegetables greener or to make jellies glisten. Lead chromate gave bakery products a golden glow and brought radiance to mustard. Lead acetate was added to drinks as a sweetener, and red lead somehow made Gloucester cheese lovelier to behold, if not safer to eat. There was hardly a foodstuff, it seems, that couldn’t be improved or made more economical to the retailer through a little deceptive manipulation.

added soap to powdered milk destined for East German schools; were in possession, when arrested, of a large quantity of the poison cantharidin, with which it was planned to produce poisoned cigarettes to kill leading East Germans; set off stink bombs to disrupt political meetings; attempted to disrupt the World Youth Festival in East Berlin by sending out forged invitations, false promises of free bed and board, false notices of cancellations, and so on; carried out attacks on participants with explosives, firebombs, and tire-puncturing equipment

Breast milk is so beneficial that a more or less well-nourished mother need not do any more than suckle her baby to ensure it is receiving a healthy diet. When it comes to the nutrients it contains, breast milk provides everything that dietary scientists believe children need in order to thrive - it is the best dietary supplement ever. It contains everything, knows everything, and can do everything necessary for a child's well-being. And, as if that weren't enough, it has the added advantage of passing on a bit of Mom's immune system to her offspring.

Prep Time: 15 minutes Cook Time: 20 minutes Serves: 6 Ingredients BISCUITS 2 cups flour 1 tablespoon baking powder 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1/2 cup shortening (butter, lard or vegetable shortening) 3/4 cup milk or buttermilk SAUSAGE GRAVY 1-pound breakfast pork sausage 1/3 cup flour 3 cups milk salt and black pepper, as needed Preparation Preheat oven to 450°F. In a large bowl, combine flour, baking powder and salt; cut in shortening until mixture has a crumbly texture. Add milk and mix into a dough, adding flour as needed until dough pulls away from side of bowl. On a lightly floured surface, roll or pat dough ¾-inch thick. Using a biscuit cutter, cut out biscuits, place on a baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes, or until lightly browned on top. To make gravy: pan fry breakfast sausage until fully cooked, breaking up large pieces. Using a slotted spoon, transfer cooked sausage to bowl. Add flour to pan dripping and whisk until golden. Slowly add milk and whisk over low heat until thickened. Add reserved sausage and stir to blend. Season to taste with salt and black pepper. Serve split biscuits topped with gravy.

Some lurid things have been said about me—that I am a racist, a hopeless alcoholic, a closet homosexual and so forth—that I leave to others to decide the truth of. I'd only point out, though, that if true these accusations must also have been true when I was still on the correct side, and that such shocking deformities didn't seem to count for so much then. Arguing with the Stalinist mentality for more than three decades now, and doing a bit of soapboxing and street-corner speaking on and off, has meant that it takes quite a lot to hurt my tender feelings, or bruise my milk-white skin.

So—there were still four hundred scabs, and it was painful to think of them as scabs because they were just like the others, but they were frightened. They were frightened because they were hungry now, but if they lost their jobs they would be hungrier, and winter was coming. Winter haunted them all because there was only scrub cotton to pick for awhile, maybe a few oranges now and then, maybe not anything. There were colds and flu and pneumonia, and babies being born and unborn, and school, and shoes wearing out. There were old men and women dying, and sometimes the young died before their time. Babies died. Life was just a little thing to them: a shrunken breast, a colorless tent wall in their curious sight, hunger without name and explanation, pain, and the dark. Sometimes in the short winter days, the mothers looked at old magazines and saw ads for milk and pretty blankets and lacy pillows, and insurance for your baby’s education, and sometimes they found articles about how to care for a baby, and they knew why their babies died. They knew anyway. Often they wondered why their babies did not die, how they could survive without all the things necessary to babies in the outside world.

Seventy-five percent of the time when I'm ordering my "almond milk matcha latte with no sugar added, lukewarm, please," I'll be recognized by an employee. And yes, my order is a pin in the ass, but I'm determined to enjoy the liquid indulgences of modern life. Might as well take advantage of it all before the zombie apocalypse. I have no practical skills; I'm fully aware that I'll be one of the first ones "turned." Instead of learning motorcycle repair or something else disaster-scenario useful, I'll order the drink I want until I become a shambling corpse. AND I WON'T BE DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT, OKAY?

That night I make my special pasta carbonara. You fry fresh rosemary in olive oil, with a pinch of salt and insane amounts of finely chopped garlic. Add a little chopped pancetta, then make the sauce by adding a pint of whole milk and curdling it with a tablespoon of vinegar. Boil it down for ten minutes, and mix in a couple of beaten eggs right at the end. Sprinkle on some finely shaved fresh parmesan—never the pre-grated stuff—and coarsely ground black pepper. Good stuff. When I ask Dad the significance of Nineveh, he’s so excited that he can’t stop talking even with long thin worms of sauce-flecked spaghettini burrowing greedily into his mouth. “Ashurbanipal. Assyrian

food processor with the honey. Blend while slowly adding milk to thin the mixture. Watch carefully, as you may need more or less than the ½ cup of milk. You are looking for the texture of soft-serve ice cream. Once this texture is achieved, transfer to a bowl and place in the freezer for at least 3 hours or overnight. Before serving, add mix-ins, if desired, like chopped nuts, dark chocolate chips, or peanut butter. Top with fresh berries. Chef Tips: • For chocolate ice cream, add 2 tablespoons of natural (non-alkalized) cocoa powder at the end before you chill the “ice cream.” As you blend the mixture, make sure there are no lumps. You may have to first pass the cocoa powder through a sieve

On sale were radium jockstraps and lingerie, radium butter, radium milk, radium toothpaste (guaranteeing a brighter smile with every brushing) and even a range of Radior cosmetics, which offered radium-laced face creams, soap, rouge, and compact powders. Other products were more prosaic: “The Radium Eclipse Sprayer,” trumpeted one ad, “quickly kills all flies, mosquitoes, roaches.

And I almost forgot, my father wants this added to the dessert course. He said to use the pits, too. For all her jokes about pills and pigs, there was nothing pharmaceutical in the wrinkled, thumb-sized dates Aida gave me. I bit into one. As I didn't collapse, or foam at the mouth, I blitzed both fruit and pit into a powder that I folded through batter, the surface glossing rusty, red.

Passion was the opposite of power. Passion was the forsaking of power. In passion, she had offered herself as a canvas for somebody else's pen, mutely receiving his designs on her skin. In passion, she had allowed herself to dream of a new name, adding his name to her own, chopping off a part of herself as an offering. In passion, she had cut herself up, lost herself, lost days, lost months.

The Majoon, or Hemp confection, is a compound of sugar, butter, flour, milk and sidhee or bang. The process has been repeatedly performed before me by Ameer, the proprietor of a celebrated place of resort for Hemp devotees in Calcutta, and who is considered the best artist in his profession. Four ounces of sidhee, and an equal quantity of ghee are placed in an earthen or well-tinned vessel, a pint of water added, and the whole warmed over a charcoal fire. The mixture is constantly stirred until the water all boils away, which is known by the crackling noise of the melted butter on the sides of the vessel. The mixture is then removed from the fire, squeezed through cloth while hot—by which an oleaginous solution of the active principles and colouring matter of the Hemp is obtained—and the leaves, fibres, &c. remaining on the cloth are thrown away. The green oily solution

I never leave home without my cayenne pepper. I either stash a bottle of the liquid extract in my pocket book or I stick it in the shopping cart I pull around with me all over Manhattan. When it comes to staying right side up in this world, a black woman needs at least three things. The first is a quiet spot of her own, a place away from the nonsense. The second is a stash of money, like the cash my mother kept hidden in the slit of her mattress. The last is several drops of cayenne pepper, always at the ready. Sprinkle that on your food before you eat it and it’ll kill any lurking bacteria. The powder does the trick as well, but I prefer the liquid because it hits the bloodstream quickly. Particularly when eating out, I won’t touch a morsel to my lips ‘til it’s speckled with with cayenne. That’s just one way I take care of my temple, aside from preparing my daily greens, certain other habits have carried me toward the century mark. First thing I do every morning is drink four glasses of water. People think this water business is a joke. But I’m here to tell you that it’s not. I’ve known two elderly people who died of dehydration, one of whom fell from his bed in the middle of the night and couldn’t stand up because he was so parched. Following my water, I drink 8 ounces of fresh celery blended in my Vita-mix. The juice cleanses the system and reduces inflammation. My biggest meal is my first one: oatmeal. I soak my oats overnight so that when I get up all I have to do is turn on the burner. Sometimes I enjoy them with warm almond milk, other times I add grated almonds and berries, put the mixture in my tumbler and shake it until it’s so smooth I can drink it. In any form, oats do the heart good. Throughout the day I eat sweet potatoes, which are filled with fiber, beets sprinkled with a little olive oil, and vegetables of every variety. I also still enjoy plenty of salad, though I stopped adding so many carrots – too much sugar. But I will do celery, cucumbers, seaweed grass and other greens. God’s fresh bounty doesn’t need a lot of dressing up, which is why I generally eat my salad plain. From time to time I do drizzle it with garlic oil. I love the taste. I also love lychee nuts. I put them in the freezer so that when I bite into them cold juice comes flooding out. As terrific as they are, I buy them only once in awhile. I recently bit into an especially sweet one, and then I stuck it right back in the freezer. “Not today, Suzie,” I said to myself, “full of glucose!” I try never to eat late, and certainly not after nine p.m. Our organs need a chance to rest. And before bed, of course, I have a final glass of water. I don’t mess around with my hydration.

Once Hopkins showed that this worked in creating one atomic network, the effort could be repeated in building the second, third, and so on: We proved out this plan in several cities of moderate size. Then we undertook New York City. There the market was dominated by a rival brand. Van Camp had slight distribution. In three weeks we secured, largely by letter, 97 per cent distribution. Every grocer saw the necessity of being prepared for that coupon demand. Then one Sunday in a page ad, we inserted the coupon. This just in Greater New York. As a result of that ad, 1,460,000 coupons were presented. We paid $146,000 to the grocers to redeem them. But 1,460,000 homes were trying Van Camp’s Milk after reading our story, and all in a single day. The total cost of that enterprise, including the advertising, was $175,000, mostly spent in redeeming those coupons. In less than nine months that cost came back with a profit. We captured the New York market.

With time, the ‘wheat bargain’ became more and more burdensome. Children died in droves, and adults ate bread by the sweat of their brows. The average person in Jericho of 8500 BC lived a harder life than the average person in Jericho of 9500 BC or 13,000 BC. But nobody realised what was happening. Every generation continued to live like the previous generation, making only small improvements here and there in the way things were done. Paradoxically, a series of ‘improvements’, each of which was meant to make life easier, added up to a millstone around the necks of these farmers. Why did people make such a fateful miscalculation? For the same reason that people throughout history have miscalculated. People were unable to fathom the full consequences of their decisions. Whenever they decided to do a bit of extra work – say, to hoe the fields instead of scattering seeds on the surface – people thought, ‘Yes, we will have to work harder. But the harvest will be so bountiful! We won’t have to worry any more about lean years. Our children will never go to sleep hungry.’ It made sense. If you worked harder, you would have a better life. That was the plan. The first part of the plan went smoothly. People indeed worked harder. But people did not foresee that the number of children would increase, meaning that the extra wheat would have to be shared between more children. Neither did the early farmers understand that feeding children with more porridge and less breast milk would weaken their immune system, and that permanent settlements would be hotbeds for infectious diseases. They did not foresee that by increasing their dependence on a single source of food, they were actually exposing themselves even more to the depredations of drought. Nor did the farmers foresee that in good years their bulging granaries would tempt thieves and enemies, compelling them to start building walls and doing guard duty.

Aida swung by with cookbooks, dietary stipulations, menus. To nouvelle and classique French fare we added Neolithic recipes free of dairy, medieval Italian recipes heavy on squash and almonds, early agrarian recipes so crammed with husky, fibrous grains that they would, in Aida's words, Make you shit till you see god. Modern additions included a vegan diet beloved of the world's best cricket player, astronaut supplements for bone density, foods charcoal-infused and nitrate-free.

With orchards and gardens bursting with delicious Kentish apples, now is the time to fetch out those favourite recipes. Spiced Apple Cake is simple to make and a nice change from a pie. It works well served warm with custard, or cold with a cup of tea in place of a traditional fruit cake. 3 apples, peeled, cored and sliced 2 tsp golden syrup 1 tbsp butter 1 tsp ground cinnamon Sponge mix: 4 oz butter 2 tbsp golden syrup 4 oz caster sugar 2 eggs 4 oz self-raising flour 1 tbsp milk Simmer the apples with the syrup, butter and cinnamon for a few minutes until tender but not mushy. To prepare the topping, soften the butter and golden syrup in a bowl over a basin of hot water. Remove from the heat and beat in the sugar and eggs. Fold in the flour, adding milk to give the consistency of lightly whipped cream. Place the apple chunks in a greased tin or ovenproof dish and pour over the topping. Bake at Gas Mark 4 for 25 to 30 minutes until the sponge is golden brown and springy to touch.

Bread plays favorites. From the earliest times, it acts as a social marker, sifting the poor from the wealthy, the cereal from the chaff. The exceptional from the mediocre. Wheat becomes more acceptable than rye; farmers talk of losing their 'rye teeth' as their economic status improves. Barley is for the most destitute, the coarse grain grinding down molars until the nerves are exposed. Breads with the added richness of eggs and milk and butter become the luxuries of princes. Only paupers eat dark bread adulterated with peas and left to sour, or purchase horse-bread instead of man-bread, often baked with the floor sweepings, because it costs a third less than the cheapest whole-meal loaves. When brown bread makes it to the tables of the prosperous, it is as trenchers- plates- stacked high with fish and meat and vegetables and soaked with gravy. The trenchers are then thrown outside, where the dogs and beggars fight over them. Crusts are chipped off the rolls of the rich, both to make it easier to chew and to aid in digestion. Peasants must work all the more to eat, even in the act of eating itself, jaws exhausted from biting through thick crusts and heavy crumb. There is no lightness for them. No whiteness at all. And it is the whiteness every man wants. Pure, white flour. Only white bread blooms when baked, opening to the heat like a rose. Only a king should be allowed such beauty, because he has been blessed by his God. So wouldn't he be surprised- no, filled with horror- to find white bread the food of all men today, and even more so the food of the common people. It is the least expensive on the shelf at the supermarket, ninety-nine cents a loaf for the storebrand. It is smeared with sweetened fruit and devoured by schoolchildren, used for tea sandwiches by the affluent, donated to soup kitchens for the needy, and shunned by the artisan. Yes, the irony of all ironies, the hearty, dark bread once considered fit only for thieves and livestock is now some of the most prized of all.

PARTY CHOWDER Take a cod of ten pounds, well cleaned, leaving on the skin. Cut into pieces one and a half pounds thick, preserving the head whole. Take one and a half pounds of clear, fat salt pork, cut in thin slices. Do the same with twelve potatoes. Take the largest pot you have. Try out the pork first, then take out the pieces of pork, leaving in the drippings. Add to that three parts of water, a layer of fish, so as to cover the bottom of the pot; next a layer of potatoes, then two tablespoons of salt, I teaspoon of pepper, then the pork, another layer of fish, and the remainder of the potatoes. Fill the pot with water to cover the ingredients. Put over a good fire. Let the chowder boil twenty-five minutes. When this is done have a quart of boiling milk ready, and ten hard crackers split and dipped in cold water. Add milk and crackers. Let the whole boil five minutes. The chowder is then ready to be first-rate if you have followed the directions. An onion may be added if you like the flavor. This chowder is suitable for a large fishing

GRAHAM CRACKER CAKE Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position. ½ cup salted butter, softened (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound) ¾ cup white (granulated) sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 large eggs 2 teaspoons baking powder ¼ teaspoon salt 2 and ¼ cups graham cracker crumbs 1 cup whole milk 1 cup chopped nuts (measure after chopping—I used walnuts)   8 and ¾ ounce can crushed pineapple WITH juice ¼ cup white (granulated) sugar Hannah’s Note: You can either crush your own graham cracker crumbs by placing graham crackers in a bag and rolling the bag with a rolling pin, crushing them in the food processor by using the steel blade, or you can buy ready-made graham cracker crumbs at the store. Spray a 9-inch square baking pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray and sprinkle the inside with flour. Shake out excess flour. You may also use Pam spray for baking, which contains a coating of flour. Both will work well. In an electric mixer, cream the butter and the sugar, adding the sugar gradually with the mixer on MEDIUM speed. Add the vanilla extract and mix it in thoroughly. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, incorporating the first egg before you add the second. Add the baking powder and the salt, beating until they’re thoroughly mixed. Mix in half of the graham cracker crumbs with half of the milk. Beat well. Mix in the other half of the graham cracker crumbs with the remaining half of the milk. Remove the bowl from the mixer and fold in the chopped nuts by hand. Pour the Graham Cracker Cake batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top with a rubber spatula. Bake your cake at 350 degrees F. for 30 minutes. Take your cake out of the oven, turn off the oven, and place the cake on a wire rack to await its topping. In a saucepan on the stovetop, combine the contents of the can of crushed pineapple and juice with the white sugar. Cook the pineapple mixture over MEDIUM HIGH heat, stirring constantly until it boils. Turn the burner down to LOW and cook the pineapple mixture for an additional 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Pour the hot pineapple sauce over the hot cake. Cool in the pan. Serve the Graham Cracker Cake with sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

The feeling behind words is often most evident in our tone of voice. Adding humiliation violates the basic concept of mutual respect. It also changes what could be a logical consequence into punishment, which won’t achieve positive long-term effects. If a child spills milk on the floor, the logical consequence (or solution) would be for her to clean it up. It remains a logical consequence (or solution) so long as the adult engages the child through kind but firm words, such as “Whoops, what do you need to do about that?” Notice how much more engaging it is to ask the child what needs to be done instead of telling her. Asking instead of telling is one of the most effective Positive Discipline methods you will learn and is discussed in more detail in chapter six. Telling invites resistance and rebellion. Respectfully involving children invites them to feel capable to use their power in contributing ways. A request becomes a punishment when adults don’t use a tone of voice that is kind and respectful or adds humiliation, such as, “How can you be so clumsy? Clean that up right now, and let me pour the milk from now on since you can’t seem to get it right.

Starting with the chocolate version, I swap out some of the cocoa powder with melted bittersweet chocolate and add some sour cream for balance and moistness, as well as some instant espresso powder, my secret ingredient for anything chocolate, which doesn't so much make something taste like coffee, but rather just makes chocolate taste more chocolaty. While the chocolate cupcakes are baking, I turn my attention to the vanilla recipe, adding some vanilla bean paste to amp up the vanilla flavor and show off those awesome little black-speck vanilla seeds, and mixing some buttermilk into the batter to prevent it from being overly sweet and unbalanced. The banana version uses very ripe bananas that I've been stashing in the freezer, as well as a single slice of fresh banana that has been coated in caramel and is pushed halfway into each cup of batter for a surprise in the middle of the cupcakes. Herman's frostings are close to the frostings of my youth, simple faux buttercreams made with softened butter and confectioners' sugar. Nothing fancy. In my newer versions, the chocolate gets melted chocolate and chocolate milk mixed in, the vanilla gets more vanilla bean paste and a tiny hit of lemon zest, and the peanut butter gets a blend of butter and cream cheese for some tang.

Small Change Snack Tips 1. Limit a snack to approximately 200 calories maximum. 2. Turn coffee or a tea into a snack by adding a cup of low-fat milk or soymilk. 3. Do not have a carbohydrate alone (such as an apple or a serving of crackers); you will still be hungry. Instead, pair a carb with a lean protein or healthy fat. Have low-fat cheese with your apple, or some peanut butter on your whole grain crackers. 4. It’s okay to have carbs alone before bed (such as a piece of fruit) because it doesn’t need to keep you full—you’re about to go to sleep. 5. Don’t double dip. For instance, don’t do string cheese and nuts, or string cheese and yogurt. Instead, choose one high-fiber carb and one lean protein or healthy fat; otherwise your calories (and fat) can add up. 6. When you eat straight from the bag, box, or can, you’ll consume more. Preportion items like nuts in resealable snack-size bags. 7. Try to keep snacktime to three hours after you have eaten. If you eat it too close to your last meal, it won’t do its job for the next meal. 8. If buying an energy bar, read the label and look for more fiber and protein, less calories and fat. 9. Just because it’s a “100-calorie pack” doesn’t mean it is a healthy snack. Make sure it offers some fiber and protein or healthy fat—and if not, skip it.

Do it very gradually, a little bit more every day. That way, you’re less likely to experience intestinal distress. In other words, if your current diet is heavy on no-fiber foods such as meat, fish, poultry, eggs, milk, and cheese, and low-fiber foods such as white bread and white rice, don’t load up on bran cereal (35 grams dietary fiber per 3.5-ounce serving) or dried figs (9.3 grams per serving) all at once. Start by adding a serving of cornflakes (2.0 grams dietary fiber) at breakfast, maybe an apple (2.8 grams) at lunch, a pear (2.6 grams) at mid-afternoon, and a half cup of baked beans (7.7 grams) at dinner. Four simple additions, and already you’re up to 15 grams dietary fiber.

She asked the girl for a guitar. “Sure,” said the girl, switching off the radio and bringing out an old guitar. The dog raised its head and sniffed the instrument. “You can’t eat this,” Reiko said with mock sternness. A grass-scented breeze swept over the porch. The mountains lay spread out before us, ridgeline sharp against the sky. “It’s like a scene from The Sound of Music,” I said to Reiko as she tuned up. “What’s that?” she asked. She strummed the guitar in search of the opening chord of “Scarborough Fair.” This was apparently her first attempt at the song, but after a few false starts she got to where she could play it through without hesitating. She had it down pat the third time and even started adding a few flourishes. “Good ear,” she said to me with a wink. “I can usually play just about anything if I hear it three times.” Softly humming the melody, she did a full rendition of “Scarborough Fair.” The three of us applauded, and Reiko responded with a decorous bow of the head. “I used to get more applause for a Mozart concerto,” she said. Her milk was on the house if she would play the Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun,” said the girl. Reiko gave her a thumbs-up and launched into the song. Hers was not a full voice, and too much smoking had given it a husky edge, but it was lovely, with real presence. I almost felt as if the sun really were coming up again as I sat there listening and drinking beer and looking at the mountains. It was a soft, warm feeling.

The broth... it's made with a mix of soy milk and charred miso. But how could you get a flavor this robust with just those?" "I mixed in grated ebi taro root. It's a strongly flavored tuber that mashes easily into a smooth, thick paste. Adding that to the broth gave it a creamy texture and a richer flavor." "Weird. All of a sudden I'm starting to feel warm." "That's the chili oil and grated raw garlic and ginger taking effect. The soy milk took the edge off of the spicy bite... so now it just gently warms the body without burning the tongue." "The rest of the ingredients are also a parade of detailed work. Thin slices of lotus root and burdock deep-fried to a crispy golden brown. Chunky strips of carrot and turnip grilled over an open flame until lightly charred and then seasoned with just a little rock salt to bring out their natural sweetness. Like a French buffet, each side ingredient is cooked in exactly the best way to bring out its full flavor! But the keystone to it all... ... is the TEMPEH!" TEMPEH Originating in Indonesia, tempeh is made of soybeans fermented into a cake form. Soybeans are lightly cooked and then wrapped in either banana or hibiscus leaves. When stored, the naturally occurring bacteria in the leaves causes the soybeans to ferment into tempeh. Traditional food with a history over four hundred years long, tempeh is well-known and often used in Indonesian cuisine. "Mm! Wow! It's really light, yet really filling too! Like fried rice." "It has a texture a lot like that of a burger patty, so vegetarians and people on macrobiotic diets use it a lot as a meat substitute. I broiled these teriyaki style in a mix of soy sauce and sake.

Weak and trembling from passion, Major Flint found that after a few tottering steps in the direction of Tilling he would be totally unable to get there unless fortified by some strong stimulant, and turned back to the club-house to obtain it. He always went dead-lame when beaten at golf, while Captain Puffin was lame in any circumstances, and the two, no longer on speaking terms, hobbled into the club-house, one after the other, each unconscious of the other's presence. Summoning his last remaining strength Major Flint roared for whisky, and was told that, according to regulation, he could not be served until six. There was lemonade and stone ginger-beer. You might as well have offered a man-eating tiger bread and milk. Even the threat that he would instantly resign his membership unless provided with drink produced no effect on a polite steward, and he sat down to recover as best he might with an old volume of Punch. This seemed to do him little good. His forced abstemiousness was rendered the more intolerable by the fact that Captain Puffin, hobbling in immediately afterwards, fetched from his locker a large flask of the required elixir, and proceeded to mix himself a long, strong tumblerful. After the Major's rudeness in the matter of the half-crown, it was impossible for any sailor of spirit to take the first step towards reconciliation. Thirst is a great leveller. By the time the refreshed Puffin had penetrated half-way down his glass, the Major found it impossible to be proud and proper any longer. He hated saying he was sorry (no man more) and he wouldn't have been sorry if he had been able to get a drink. He twirled his moustache a great many times and cleared his throat--it wanted more than that to clear it--and capitulated. "Upon my word, Puffin, I'm ashamed of myself for--ha!--for not taking my defeat better," he said. "A man's no business to let a game ruffle him." Puffin gave his alto cackling laugh. "Oh, that's all right, Major," he said. "I know it's awfully hard to lose like a gentleman." He let this sink in, then added: "Have a drink, old chap?" Major Flint flew to his feet. "Well, thank ye, thank ye," he said. "Now where's that soda water you offered me just now?" he shouted to the steward. The speed and completeness of the reconciliation was in no way remarkable, for when two men quarrel whenever they meet, it follows that they make it up again with corresponding frequency, else there could be no fresh quarrels at all. This one had been a shade more acute than most, and the drop into amity again was a shade more precipitous.

Sugar and other expensive ingredients were often stretched with gypsum, plaster of paris, sand, dust, and other forms of daft, as such additives were collectively known. Butter reportedly was bulked out with tallow and lard. A tea drinker, according to various authorities, might unwittingly take in anything from sawdust to powdered sheep’s dung. One closely inspected shipment, Judith Flanders reports in The Victorian House, proved to be only slightly more than half tea; the rest was made up of sand and dirt. Sulphuric acid was added to vinegar for extra sharpness, chalk to milk, turpentine to gin. Arsenite of copper was used to make vegetables greener or to make jellies glisten. Lead chromate gave bakery products a golden glow and brought radiance to mustard. Lead acetate was added to drinks as a sweetener, and red lead somehow made Gloucester cheese lovelier to behold, if not safer to eat.

From the height we had now reached, the sea no longer appeared, as it did from Balbec, like an undulating range of hills, but on the contrary like the view, from a mountain-peak or from a road winding round its flank, of a blue-green glacier or a glittering plain situated at a lower level. The ripples of eddies and currents seemed to be fixed upon its surface, and to have traced there for ever their concentric circles; the enamelled face of the sea, imperceptibly changing colour, assumed towards the head of the bay, where an estuary opened, the blue whiteness of milk in which little black boats that did not move seemed entangled like flies. I felt that from nowhere could one discover a vaster prospect. But at each turn in the road a fresh expanse was added to it and when we arrived at the Douville toll-house, the spur of the cliff which until then had concealed from us half the bay receded, and all of a sudden I saw upon my left a gulf as profound as that which I had already had in front of me, but one that changed the proportions of the other and doubled its beauty. The air at this lofty point had a keenness and purity that intoxicated me. I adored the Verdurins; that they should have sent a carriage for us seemed to me a touching act of kindness. I should have liked to kiss the Princess. I told her that I had never seen anything so beautiful. She professed that she too loved this spot more than any other. But I could see that to her as to the Verdurins the thing that really mattered was not to gaze at the view like tourists, but to partake of good meals there, to entertain people whom they liked, to write letters, to read books, in short to live in these surroundings, passively allowing the beauty of the scene to soak into them rather than making it the object of their conscious attention.

Thick and creamy egg, fragrant roast quail... and the rice! It all makes such a hearty, satisfying combination! Wait, something just crunched? "See, there are five parts to a good chicken-and-egg rice bowl. Chicken... eggs... rice... onions... and warishita. *Warishita is a sauce made from a combination of broth, soy sauce and sugar.* "I seared the quail in oil before putting it in the oven to roast. That made the skin nice and crispy... while leaving the meat inside tender and juicy. For the eggs, I seasoned them with salt and a generous pinch of black pepper to give them some bite and then added cream to make them thick and creamy! It's the creaminess of the soft-boiled egg that makes or breaks a good chicken-and-egg bowl, y'know. Some milk made the risotto extra creamy. I then mixed in onions as well as ground chicken that was browned in butter. I used the Suer technique on the onions. That should have given some body to their natural sweetness. For the sauce, I sweetened some Madeira wine with sugar and honey and then added a dash of soy sauce. Like warishita in a regular chicken-and-egg rice bowl, this sauce ties all the parts of the dish together. Try it with the poached egg. It's seriously delicious! Basically I took the idea of a Japanese chicken-and-egg rice bowl... ... and rebuilt it using only French techniques!" "Yukihira! I wanna try it too!" "Oh, uh, sorry. I only made that one." "Awww! You've gotta make one for me someday!" "There is one thing I still don't understand. When you stuff a bird, out of necessity the filling has to remain firm to stay in place. Something soft and creamy like risotto should have fallen right back out! "How did you make this filling work?!" "I know! The crunch!" "Yep! It's cabbage! I quickly blanched a cabbage leaf, wrapped the risotto in it... ... and then stuffed it inside the quail!" "Aha! Just like during the Camp Shokugeph!" It's the same idea behind the Chou Farci Shinomiya made! The cabbage leaf is blanched perfectly too. He brought out just enough sweetness while still retaining its crispy texture. And it's that very sweetness that softly ties the fragrant quail meat together with the creamy richness of the risotto filling!

The tofu pocket is soaked with butter, every bite of it drenching the lips... ... sending rich waves gushing through the mouth. Just one taste is enough to seep both tongue and mind in a thick flood of butter! "The tofu pocket is so juicy it's nearly dripping, yet it hasn't drowned the filling at all. The rice is delectably fluffy and delicate, done in true pilaf style, with the grains separate, tender and not remotely sticky. Simmered in fragrant chicken broth, the prawns give it a delightful crunch, while ample salt and pepper boost both its flavor and aroma!" "The whole dish is strongly flavored, but it isn't the least bit heavy or sticky. The deliciousness of every ingredient, wrapped in a cloak of rich butter, wells up with each bite like a gushing, savory spring! How on earth did you manage to create this powerful a flavor?!" "Well, first I sautéed the rice for the pilaf without washing it- one of the major rules of pilafs! If you wash all the starch off the rice, the grains get crumbly and the whole thing can wind up tasting tacky instead of tender. Then I thoroughly rinsed the tofu pockets with hot water to wash off the extra oil so they'd soak up the seasonings better. But the biggest secret to the whole thing... ... was my specially made Mochi White Sauce! Normal white sauce is made with lots of milk, butter and flour, making it really thick and heavy. But I made mine using only soy milk and mochi, so it's still rich and creamy without the slightest hint of greasiness. In addition, I sprinkled a blend of several cheeses on top of everything when I put it in the oven to toast. They added some nice hints of mellow saltiness to the dish without making it too heavy! Basically, I shoved all the tasty things I could think of into my dish... ... pushing the rich, savory flavor as hard as I could until it was just shy of too much... and this is the result!" Some ingredients meld with the butter's richness into mellow deliciousness... ... while others, sautéed in butter, have become beautifully savory and aromatic. Into each of these little inari sushi pockets has gone an immense amount of work across uncountable steps and stages. Undaunted by Mr. Saito's brilliant dish, gleaming with the fierce goodness of seafood... each individual ingredient is loudly and proudly declaring its own unique deliciousness!

This white broth... ... is soy milk!" "That's right! I mixed a dash of parmesan cheese and a little dollop of miso paste into the soy milk and then lightly simmered it. This is my pike dish... Pike Takikomi Rice, Ojiya Style!" OJIYA Also called "Zosui," Ojiya is soup stock and seasonings added to precooked rice, vegetables and fish and cooked into a thick porridge. It is distinctly different from dishes like risotto, which is uncooked rice that is first sautéed in butter and oils before adding liquid... and Okayu, which is a rice gruel cooked to soupy softness in extra water. "Soy milk?" "Ah, so you finally see it, Alice. Like all soups, the most important part of Ojiya porridge is the stock! He built this dish to be porridge from the start... ... with soy milk as the "stock"!" "Soy milk as soup stock?!" "Can you even do that?!" "So that's what it is! Soup stock is essentially meant to be pure umami. Like kombu kelp- a common stock- soy milk is packed with the umami component glutamic acid. It's more than good enough to serve as a sound base for the Ojiya porridge! Not only that, umami flavors synergies with each other. Adding two umami components to the same dish will magnify the flavor exponentially! The inosinic acid in the pike and the glutamic acid in the soy milk... combining the two makes perfect, logical sense! " "Soy milk Ojiya Porridge. Hm. How interesting!" " Mm! Delicious! The full-bodied richness of the cheese and the mild, salty flavor of the miso meld brilliantly with the rice! Then there are the chunks of tender pike meat mixed in... ... with these red things. Are they what I think they are?" "Yep! They're crunchy pickled-plum bits!" "What?!" "Again with the dirt cheap, grocery store junk food! Like that cracker breading and the seaweed jelly pearls..." "He totally dumped those in there just for the heck of it!" "These pickled plums are a very important facet of the overall dish! They have a bright, pleasing color and a fun, crunchy texture. Not only that, their tart flavor cuts through the rich oiliness of the pike meat, giving the dish a fresh, clean aftertaste. And, like all vinegary foods, they stir the appetite- a side effect that this dish takes full advantage of! Finally, these plums are salt pickled! It is no wonder they make a perfect accent to the pickled pike at the center of the dish!"

I think we all collectively have gone a little crazy. We worry about the wrong things. I have an acquaintance, Christy, whose twelve–year–old son managed to get into a very violent PG–13 movie. I don’t know how many machine–gunnings, explosions, and killings this boy wound up witnessing. As I recall, the boy had nightmares for a week afterward. That disturbed his mother—but not as much as if her son had stumbled into a different kind of movie. “At least there wasn’t any sex,” she said with dead–serious concern. “No,” I said, “probably not a single bare breast.” I didn’t add that most societies do not regard the adult female breast as being primarily an object of sexual desire. After all, it’s just a big gland that makes milk in order to feed hungry babies. “You know what I’m talking about,” she snapped. “I mean graphic sex.” We were sitting in a café drinking tea. She cut off the volume of her speech at the end of her sentence, whispering and exaggerating the consonants of S–E–X as if she needed me to read her lips—as if giving voice to this word might disturb our neighbors and brand her as a deviant. “I don’t think children should see that kind of thing,” she added. “What should children see?” I asked her. I am not arguing that we should let our children buy tickets to raunchy movies. I never let my daughters bring home steamy videos or surf the Internet for porn. But something is wrong when sex becomes a dirty word that we don’t even want our children to hear. Why must we regard almost anything sexual as tantamount to obscene? I think many of us are like Christy. We wouldn’t want our children—even our very sexual teenagers—to see certain kinds of movies, even if they happened to be erotic masterpieces, true works of art. It wouldn’t matter if a movie gave us a wonderful scene of a wife and a husband very lovingly making love with the conscious intention of engendering new life. It wouldn’t matter that sex is life, and therefore must be regarded as sacred as anything could possibly be. It wouldn’t even matter that not one of us could have come into the world but for the sexual union of our fathers and our mothers. If a movie portrayed a man and woman in the ecstatic dance of love—actually showed naked bellies and breasts, burning lips and adoring eyes and the glistening, impassioned organs of sex—most people I know would rather their children watch the vile action movie. They would rather their “innocent” sons and daughters behold the images of bloody, blasted bodies, torture, murder, and death.

[the virgin birth account] occurs everywhere. When the Herod figure ( the extreme figure of misgovernment) has brought man to the nadir of spirit, the occult forces of the cycle begin to move. In an inconspicuous village, Mary is born who will maintain herself undefiled by fashionable errors of her generation. Her womb, remaining fallw as the primordial abyss, summons itself by its very readiness the original power that fertilzed the void. Mary's virgin birth story is recounted everywhere. and with such striking unity of the main contours, that early christian missionaries had to think the devil must be creating mockeries of Mary's birth wherever they testified. One missionary reports that after work was begun among Tunja and Sogamozzo South American Indians, "the demon began giving contrary doctrines. The demon sought to discredit Mary's account, declaring it had not yet come to pass; but presently, the sun would bring it to pass by taking flesh in the womb of a virgin in a small village, causing her to conceive by rays of the sun while she yet remained virgin." Hindu mythology tells of the maiden parvati who retreated to the high hills to practice austerities. Taraka had usurped mastery of the world, a tyrant. Prophecy said only a son of the high god Shiva could overthrow him. Shive however was the pattern god of yoga-alone, aloof, meditating. It was impossible Shiva could be moved to beget. Parvati tried changing the world situation by metching Shiva in meditation. Aloof, indrawn in her soul meditating, she fasted naked beneath the blazing sun, even adding to the heat by building four great fires. One day a Brahmin youth arrived and asked why anyone so beautiful should be destroying herself with such torture. "My desire," she said "is Shiva, the Highest. He is the god of solitude and concentration. I therefore imitate his meditation to move him from his balance and bring him to me in love." Shiva, the youth announced, is a god of destruction, shiva is World Annhilator. Snakes are his garlands. The virgin said: He is beyond the mind of such as you. He is terrifying but the source of grace. snake garlands or jewel garlands he can assume or put off at will. Shiva is my love. The youth thereupon put away his disguise-he was Shiva. The Buddha descended from heaven to his mother's womb in the shape of a milk white elephant. The Aztec Coatlicue was approached by a god in the form of a ball of feathers. The chapters of Ovid's Metamorphoses swarm with nymphs beset by gods in sundry masquerades: jove as a bull, a swan, a shower of gold. Any leaf, any nut, or even the breath of a breeze, may be enough to fertilize the ready virgin womb. The procreating power is everywhere. And according to whim or destiny of the hour, either a hero savior or a world--annihilating demon may be conceived-one can never know.

How delicious! Layer upon layer of exquisitely delicate sweetness blooms in the mouth like the unfurling petals of a flower! And it's different from the cake Sarge presented in one very distinct way!" ?! The flavors explode not like a bomb but a firecracker! What a silky-smooth, mild sweetness! "How were you able to create such a uniquely beautiful flavor?" "See, for the cake, I used Colza oil, flour, baking powder... and a secret ingredient... Mashed Japanese mountain yam! That gave the batter some mild sweetness along with a thick creaminess. Simply mashing it instead of pureeing it gave the cake's texture some soft body as well. Then there're the two different frostings I used! The white cream I made by blending into a smooth paste banana, avocado, soy milk, rice syrup and some puffed rice I found at the convenience store. I used this for the filling. *Rice syrup, also called rice malt, is a sweetener made by transforming the starch in rice into sugars. A centuries-old condiment, it's known for being gentle on the stomach. * I made the dark cream I used to frost the cake by adding cocoa powder to the white cream." "I see. How astonishing. This cake uses no dairy or added sugar. Instead, it combines and maximizes the natural sweetness of its ingredients to create a light and wonderfully delicious cake!" "What?!" "He didn't put in any sugar at all?!" "But why go to all that time and effort?!" "For the people patiently waiting to eat it, of course. This cake was made especially for these people and for this season. When it's hot and humid out... even if it's a Christmas Cake, I figured you'd all prefer one that's lighter and softer instead of something rich and heavy. I mean, that's the kind of cake I'd want in this weather.

she had striven to be patient and steadfast no matter what life presented, every time she learned she was carrying yet another child under her breast—again and again. With each son added to the flock she recognized that her responsibility had grown for ensuring the prosperity and secure position of the lineage. Tonight she realized that her ability to survey everything at once and her watchfulness had also grown with each new child entrusted to her care. Never had she seen it so clearly as on this evening—what destiny had demanded of her and what it had given her in return with her seven sons. Over and over again joy had quickened the beat of her heart; fear on their behalf had rent it in two. They were her children, these big sons with their lean, bony, boy’s bodies, just as they had been when they were small and so plump that they barely hurt themselves when they tumbled down on their way between the bench and her knee. They were hers, just as they had been back when she lifted them out of the cradle to her milk-filled breast and had to support their heads, which wobbled on their frail necks the way a bluebell nods on its stalk. Wherever they ended up in the world, wherever they journeyed, forgetting their mother—she thought that for her, their lives would be like a current in her own life; they would be one with her, just as they had been when she alone on this earth knew about the new life hidden inside, drinking from her blood and making her cheeks pale. Over and over she had endured the sinking, sweat-dripping anguish when she realized that once again her time had come; once again she would be pulled under by the groundswell of birth pains—until she was lifted up with a new child in her arms. How much richer and stronger and braver she had become with each child was something that she first realized tonight.

Why did you come to the United States? Perhaps no one knows the real answer. I know that migrants, when they are still on their way here, learn the Immigrant’s Prayer. A friend who had been aboard La Bestia for a few days, working on a documentary, read it to me once. I didn’t learn the entire thing, but I remember these lines: “Partir es morir un poco / Llegar nunca es llegar”—“To leave is to die a little / To arrive is never to arrive.” I’ve had to ask so many children: Why did you come? Sometimes I ask myself the same question. I don’t have an answer yet. Before coming to the United States, I knew what others know: that the cruelty of its borders was only a thin crust, and that on the other side a possible life was waiting. I understood, some time after, that once you stay here long enough, you begin to remember the place where you originally came from the way a backyard might look from a high window in the deep of winter: a skeleton of the world, a tract of abandonment, objects dead and obsolete. And once you’re here, you’re ready to give everything, or almost everything, to stay and play a part in the great theater of belonging. In the United States, to stay is an end in itself and not a means: to stay is the founding myth of this society. To stay in the United States, you will unlearn the universal metric system so you can buy a pound and a half of cooked ham, accept that thirty-two degrees, and not zero, is where the line falls that divides cold and freezing. You might even begin to celebrate the pilgrims who removed the alien Indians, and the veterans who maybe killed other aliens, and the day of a president who will eventually declare a war on all the other so-called aliens. No matter the cost. No matter the cost of the rent, and milk, and cigarettes. The humiliations, the daily battles. You will give everything. You will convince yourself that it is only a matter of time before you can be yourself again, in America, despite the added layers of its otherness already so well adhered to your skin. But perhaps you will never want to be your former self again. There are too many things that ground you to this new life. Why did you come here? I asked one little girl once. Because I wanted to arrive.

I stopped struggling, going limp in his arms. He reached around us and shoved the door closed, spinning around and facing us toward the kitchen. “I was trying to make you breakfast.” It took a moment for his words and their meaning to sink in. I stared dumbfounded across the room and past the island. There was smoke billowing up from the stove and the window above the sink was wide open. Bowls and spoons littered the island and there was a carton of eggs sitting out. He was trying to cook. He was really bad at it. I started to laugh. The kind of laugh that shook my shoulders and bubbled up hysterically. My heart rate was still out of control, and I took in a few breaths between laughs to try and calm it down. He said something, but I couldn’t hear him because the fire alarm was still going off. I had no doubt half the neighborhood was now awake from the sound. He didn’t bother to put me down, instead hauling me along with him, where he finally set me down, dragged a chair over near the alarm, and climbed up to remove the battery. The noise cut off and the kitchen fell silent. “Well, shit,” he said, staring at the battery in his hand. A giggle escaped me. “Does this always happen when you cook?” He shrugged. “The only time I ever cook is when it’s my turn at the station.” His forehead creased and a thoughtful look came over his face. “The guys are never around when it’s my night to cook. Now I know why.” He snagged a towel off the counter and began waving away the rest of the lingering smoke. I clicked on the vent fan above the stove. There was a pan with half a melted spatula, something that may or may not have once been eggs, and a muffin tin with half-burned, half-raw muffins (how was that even possible?). “Well, this looks…” My words faltered, trying to come up with something positive to say. “Completely inedible?” he finished. I grinned. “You did all this for me?” “I figured after a week of hospital food, you might like something good. Apparently you aren’t going to find that here.” I had the urge to hug him. I kept my feet planted where they were. “Thank you. No one’s ever ruined a pan for me before.” He grinned. “I have cereal. Even I can’t mess that up.” I watched as he pulled down a bowl and poured me some, adding milk. He looked so cute when he handed me the bowl that I lifted the spoon and took a bite. “Best cereal I ever had.” “Damn straight.” I carried it over to the counter and sat down. “After we eat, would you mind taking me to my car? I hope it’s still drivable.” “What about the keys?” “I have a security deposit box at the bank. I keep my spare there in case I ever need them.” “Pretty smart.” “I have a few good ideas now and then.” “Contrary to the way it looks, I do too.” “Thank you for trying to make me breakfast. And for the cereal.” He walked over to the stove and picked up the ruined pan. “You died with honor,” he said, giving it a mock salute. And then he threw the entire thing into the trashcan. I laughed. “You could have washed it, you know.” He made a face. “No. Then I might be tempted to use it again.

I love it when you can’t control yourself,” she whispered. “I love having you at my mercy. You have no idea…how much I enjoy seeing Dom the Almighty brought low.” He barely registered her words. What she was doing felt so good. So bloody damned good. If she stroked him much more… “I want to be inside you.” He gripped her wrist. “Please, Jane…” Her sensuous smile faltered. “You’ve never said ‘please’ to me before. Not in your whole life.” “Really?” Had he only ever issued orders? If so, no wonder she’d refused him last night. Perhaps it was time to show her she didn’t have to seduce him to gain control. That he could give up his control freely…to her, at least. “Then let me say it now. Please, Jane, make love to me. If you don’t mind.” She stared at him. “I…I don’t know what you mean.” He nodded to his cock, which looked downright ecstatic over the idea. “Get up on your knees and fit me inside you.” Realizing he’d just issued yet another order, he added, “Please. If you want.” Jane got that sultry look on her face again. Like the little seductress she was rapidly showing herself to be, she rose up and then came down on him. By degrees. Very slow degrees. He had trouble breathing. “Am I hurting you?” Her smile broadened as she shimmied down another inch. “Not really.” Stifling a curse, he clutched her arms. “You just…enjoy torturing me.” “Absolutely,” she said and moved his hands to cover her breasts. He was more than happy to oblige her unspoken request, happy to thumb her nipples and watch as her lovely mouth fell open and a moan of pure pleasure escaped her. His cock swelled, and he thrust up involuntarily. “Please…” he said hoarsely. “Please, Jane…” With a choked laugh, she sheathed herself on him. Then her eyes went wide. “Oh, that feels amazing.” “It would feel more amazing if you…would move,” he rasped, though the mere sensation of being buried inside her was making him insane. When she arched an eyebrow, he added, “Please.” “I could get to like this,” she said teasingly. “The begging.” But even as he groaned, she began to move, like the sensual creature that she was. His sweetheart undulated atop him, her head thrown back and her eyes sliding closed, and for the first time in his life, he was happy to give himself up to someone else’s control. To relish her pleasure, which was also his pleasure. Somehow he’d stumbled into paradise, ruled by his own personal angel. His own personal siren. “You like having me…in your power, do you?” he said. “Yes, oh, yes.” Her eyes brightened as she rode him, harder, faster. “Say it again.” “What?” He could hardly think for watching her take him. For being inside her so deeply he fancied he could feel her heart, her very soul. “Please.” Her face was flushed, rapt. “Say…’please’ again.” “Please.” Why had he never thought to say it before? This was all he’d ever wanted--to have the enthralling, intoxicating Jane in his arms, in his life. Forever. A “please” from time to time was little enough to give for that. “Please, my wanton angel.” He clutched her close, his rhythm quickening. “Please…be mine. Please…marry me.” His release approached like a carriage thundering toward the heavens. Toward paradise. And as the blood roared in his ears, he plunged his cock deeply and emptied himself inside her, crying, “Please…Jane…love me!” “I do.” With a hoarse cry of her own, she strained against him and found her own release, milking his cock with the force of it. “I do, my darling…I do.

EASY FRUIT PIE   Preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position. Note from Delores: I got this recipe from Jenny Hester, a new nurse at Doc Knight’s hospital. Jenny just told me that her great-grandmother used to make it whenever the family came over for Sunday dinner. Hannah said it’s easy so I might actually try to make it some night for Doc. ¼ cup salted butter (½ stick, 2 ounces, pound) 1 cup whole milk 1 cup white (granulated) sugar 1 cup all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) 1 and ½ teaspoons baking powder ½ teaspoon salt 1 can fruit pie filling (approximately 21 ounces by weight—3 to 3 and ½ cups, the kind that makes an 8-inch pie) Hannah’s 1st Note: This isn’t really a pie, and it isn’t really a cake even though you make it in a cake pan. It’s almost like a cobbler, but not quite. I have the recipe filed under “Dessert”. You can use any canned fruit pie filling you like. I might not bake it for company with blueberry pie filling. It tasted great, but didn’t look all that appetizing. If you love blueberry and want to try it, it might work to cover the top with sweetened whipped cream or Cool Whip before you serve it. I’ve tried this recipe with raspberry and peach . . . so far. I have the feeling that lemon pie filling would be yummy, but I haven’t gotten around to trying it yet. Maybe I’ll try it some night when Mike comes over after work. Even if it doesn’t turn out that well, he’ll eat it. Place the butter in a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan and put it in the oven to melt. Meanwhile . . . Mix the milk, sugar, flour, baking powder and salt together in a medium-size bowl. This batter will be a little lumpy and that’s okay. Just like brownie batter, don’t over-mix it. Using oven mitts or potholders, remove the pan with the melted butter from the oven. Pour in the batter and tip the pan around to cover the whole bottom. Then set it on a cold stove burner. Spoon the pie filling over the stop of the batter, but DO NOT MIX IN. Just spoon it on as evenly as you can. (The batter will puff up around it in the oven and look gorgeous!) Bake the dessert at 375 degrees F., for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until it turns golden brown and bubbly on top. To serve, cool slightly, dish into bowls, and top with sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. It really is yummy. Hannah’s 2nd Note: The dessert is best when it’s baked, cooled slightly, and served right away. Alternatively you can bake it earlier, cut pieces to put in microwave-safe bowls, and reheat it in the microwave before you put on the ice cream or sweetened whipped cream. Yield: Easy Fruit Pie will serve 6 if you don’t invite Mike and Norman for dinner. Note from Jenny: I’ve made this by adding ¼ cup cocoa powder and 1 teaspoon of vanilla to the batter. If I do this, I spoon a can of cherry pie filling over the top.

Mark came home late one frozen Sunday carrying a bag of small, silver fish. They were smelts, locally known as icefish. He’d brought them at the store in the next town south, across from which a little village had sprung up on the ice of the lake, a collection of shacks with holes drilled in and around them. I’d seen the men going from the shore to the shacks on snowmobiles, six-packs of beer strapped on behind them like a half dozen miniature passengers. “Sit and rest,” Mark said. “I’m cooking.” He sautéed minced onion in our homemade butter, added a little handful of crushed, dried sage, and when the onion was translucent, he sprinkled n flour to make a roux, which he loosened with beer, in honor of the fishermen. He added cubed carrot, celery root, potato, and some stock, and then the fish, cut into pieces, and when they were all cooked through he poured in a whole morning milking’s worth of Delia’s yellow cream. Icefish chowder, rich and warm, eaten while sitting in Mark’s lap, my feet so close to the woodstove that steam came off my damp socks.

Slow-Cooked Rump Roast INGREDIENTS  1-2 pounds beef rump roast  3-4 cups chicken broth (no sugar added)  2 large onions, roughly chopped  5-6 garlic cloves, peeled  1 (8 ounce) container of mushrooms, sliced  salt and pepper to taste  1 teaspoon garlic powder  1 teaspoon onion powder  1/2 teaspoon paprika  1/2 cup full-fat coconut milk, canned  Mushroom gravy PREP TIME: 10 MINUTES—COOK TIME: 6-8 HOURS Serves: 4-6 1. Pull out that handy slow cooker of yours! 2. Add in the broth, coconut milk, onions, garlic, mushrooms, and spice to your slow cooker and mix together. 3. Make a little room in your slow cooker around the mushroom mix and plop that cute little rump roast in the pot. 4. Turn on low for 6-8 hours.

And if you have any doubta," Peter added, "Corinithians overtly tells us that the parables have two layers of meaning: 'milk for babes and meat for men - where the milk is watered-down reading for infantile minds, and the meat is the true message, accessible only to mature minds.

Kimchi Jeon There are many different kinds of Korean pancakes using vegetables, seafood, or meat in Korean cuisine. We call this type of pancake "jeon." Among them, this kimchi pancake snack is one of the most popular Korean pancakes. Today, I want to share some secrets to make really tasty kimchi pancakes with you. When I was little, I used to visit an aunt's house and she made kimchi pancakes for me. I love kimchi pancakes, and her kimchi pancakes were the best ever. She gave me some tips about how to make good kimchi jeon. Some people asked me, why I call some Korean dishes "pancakes," even though they are not sweet, and not even close to the American pancakes that you might be imagining. Another word that could describe Korean pancakes is "fritter" - batter mixed with different kinds of ingredients: vegetables, seafood, meat, and so on. Yield: 1/2 Dozen 8-inch Pancakes Main Ingredients 1 Cup All Purpose Flour 1/3 Frying Mix (or 1/3 Cup All Purpose Flour) 1 Cup Well Fermented Kimchi 1/3 Cup Kimchi Broth 1/4 Cup Milk 1/3 Cup Water 1 Egg 1 1/2 tsp Sugar 1/8 Generous tsp Salt Directions Chop 1 cup of kimchi into 1-inch pieces. The most important tip for delicious kimchi pancakes is using well-fermented kimchi. Sour (old) kimchi works great too. When you cut kimchi on your cutting board, the cutting board will get stained. Here is a tip: Put some wax paper on top of your cutting board before cutting the kimchi. :) In a bowl, add 1 cup of all-purpose flour and 1/3 cup of frying mix. To make the pancakes a little crispier, I like to add some frying mix to the batter. However if you don't have the frying mix or don't want a crispy texture, you can use another 1/3 cup of flour instead. Add 1 1/2 tsp of sugar and a generous 1/8 tsp of salt into the bowl. Mix everything together. Adding some sugar is a secret ingredient from my aunt. Depending on how salty your kimchi is, you might need to adjust the amount of salt. Pour 1/4 cup of milk and 1/3 cup of water into the dried ingredients. Milk is another secret ingredient from her, but if you cannot eat milk or do not have it, you can use another 1/4 cup of water instead. Add 1 egg and 1/3 cup of kimchi broth. Several people have asked, "What is kimchi broth?" While the kimchi is fermenting in the jar, a liquid forms from the fermentation process of the napa cabbage. That is what I call kimchi broth. You can use it for other kimchi dishes such as Kimchi fried rice or kimchi soup, so don't throw away your valuable kimchi broth. It will give these dishes an extra burst of kimchi flavor. Before you add the kimchi to the batter, stir the batter until it doesn't have any chunks and gets a consistency like pancake batter. Add 1 cup of chopped kimchi into the batter. If you don't have enough kimchi broth, you can add a little more water and kimchi to get enough flavor. Mix thoroughly. Oh, it already looks delicious, even without frying. In a non-stick pan, add generous amount of oil. Heat the pan on medium-high. I said generous! =P According to your pan size, get 1 or 2 scoops of batter and pour it into the pan. It is important to spread the batter out thinly for crispy pancakes. ;) When the surface of the pancake starts to cook, flip it over. Pressing the pancake with a spatula helps the pancake fry better and makes it crispier. Occasionally flip the pancake, but not too often. When both sides of the pancakes are nicely brown and crispy, it is done. Again, it is a very simple and delicious dish. You should try this someday, especially if you love kimchi.

Randy Shilts mentions that Kool-Aid packets were scattered in the bay with Milk’s ashes, but he gives no indication of what it meant. Interviews conducted for this book revealed that Milk’s friends added the grape Kool-Aid in a light-hearted attempt at making fun at the relationship between Milk and the Temple.

Lactose-Free Milk Lactose-free milkΔ contains lactose that has been broken down to make it easier to digest. Lactose, an enzyme, has been added to assist people with lactose-intolerance problems in digesting and absorbing the lactose in milk.

FiberΔ, such as cellulose gel, is added to low-fat milk to enrich the texture. The milk has a thicker consistency and a whiter color due to the addition of natural coloring agents. The milk has fewer calories than fat-free milk and more calcium due to enrichment.

YogurtΔ is a cultured product that can be made from whole milk, low-fat milk with added milk solids, and skim milk with added milk solids.

Tens of millions of acres have been added to the federal wilderness system, environmental impact assessments are now required for all major developments, some lakes that were declared dead are living again. . . . Lead particulates have been impressively reduced in the atmosphere; DDT is no longer found in American body fat, which also contains considerably fewer polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) than it once did. Mercury has virtually disappeared from Great Lakes sediment; and Strontium 90 is no longer found in either cows’ milk or mothers’ milk.” And Dowie stressed: “What all these facts have in common is that they are the result of outright bans against the use or production of the substances in question.”III, 27

GRAHAM CRACKER CAKE Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position. ½ cup salted butter, softened (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound) ¾ cup white (granulated) sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 large eggs 2 teaspoons baking powder ¼ teaspoon salt 2 and ¼ cups graham cracker crumbs 1 cup whole milk 1 cup chopped nuts (measure after chopping—I used walnuts)   8 and ¾ ounce can crushed pineapple WITH juice ¼ cup white (granulated) sugar Hannah’s Note: You can either crush your own graham cracker crumbs by placing graham crackers in a bag and rolling the bag with a rolling pin, crushing them in the food processor by using the steel blade, or you can buy ready-made graham cracker crumbs at the store. Spray a 9-inch square baking pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray and sprinkle the inside with flour. Shake out excess flour. You may also use Pam spray for baking, which contains a coating of flour. Both will work well. In an electric mixer, cream the butter and the sugar, adding the sugar gradually with the mixer on MEDIUM speed. Add the vanilla extract and mix it in thoroughly. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, incorporating the first egg before you add the second. Add the baking powder and the salt, beating until

Hugo’s Prizewinning Praline Pumpkin Pie What does it take to turn out a prizewinning pie? Lots of “mouth feel,” as the saying goes. When the pie cracked as it baked, we added a last-minute ring of pecan praline and that convenient coverall, a small mountain of brandy whipped cream, for first prize in the St. Michaels contest, restaurant division. 9-inch deep-dish pie shell FOR THE FILLING 1 15-ounce can pumpkin, unsweetened 1 cup brown sugar, loosely packed 2 teaspoons cinnamon* ¼ teaspoon cloves* 2 teaspoons fresh ginger, grated ¼ teaspoon salt 2/3 cup whipping cream 2/3 cup milk 4 eggs FOR THE PRALINE 3 tablespoons flour 3 tablespoons brown sugar 2 tablespoons butter, softened ¾ cup pecan halves FOR THE CREAM ½ pint whipping cream 1 tablespoon sugar 1 tablespoon brandy Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Partly bake the pie shell on the middle oven rack for about 10 minutes until it looks set. In a food processor, blend the pumpkin, sugar, spices, and salt for one minute. In a heavy saucepan, cook this pumpkin mixture at a simmer, stirring constantly, for about 5 minutes. Remove pumpkin from the heat and stir in the cream and milk. Whisk eggs to combine whites and yolks and blend thoroughly into the pumpkin mixture. Pour this into the pie shell, adding any extra filling after the pie has baked for about 5 minutes. Bake the pie on the lower oven rack for about 20 minutes and prepare the praline. In a small bowl, combine the flour, sugar, and butter and stir in the pecans. Remove the pie from the oven and spoon the pecan mixture in a circle around the edge of the pie, inside the crust, and return it to the oven. Continue baking for about 10 minutes more until the filling is puffed and wiggles very slightly when the pie is gently shaken. Cool on a wire rack. Whip the cream and sugar together until stiff, then stir in the brandy. When the pie is completely cool, mound the cream on top, inside the ring of pecans. Serve right away or refrigerate. Serves 6 to 8. *Freshly ground cinnamon and cloves are best, but spice straight from the jar will do.

These days the type of milk added to chocolate varies widely throughout the world, and this is the main reason that milk chocolate tastes different from country to country. In the USA the milk used has had some of its fat removed by enzymes, giving the chocolate a cheesy, almost rancid flavor. In the UK sugar is added to liquid milk, and it is this solution, reduced to a concentrate, that is added to the chocolate, creating a milder caramel flavor. In Europe powdered milk is still used, giving the chocolate a fresh dairy flavor with a powdery texture. These different tastes do not travel well. Despite globalization, the preferred taste of milk chocolate, once acquired, remains surprisingly regional.

American Heart Association has reported that 75 per cent of heart involvements begin before ten years of age. My studies have shown that in about 95 per cent of these cases there is active tooth decay. The important change that I made in this boy's dietary program was the removal of the white flour products and in their stead the use of freshly cracked or ground wheat and oats used with whole milk to which was added a small amount of specially high vitamin butter produced by cows pasturing on green wheat. Small doses of a high-vitamin, natural cod liver oil were also added. At this time the boy was so badly crippled with arthritis, in his swollen knees, wrists, and rigid spine, that he was bedfast and cried by the hour. With the improvement in his nutrition which was the only change made in his care, his acute pain rapidly subsided, his appetite greatly improved, he slept soundly and gained rapidly in weight

HEART ACTION Plan a tea party to gather together some old or new friends. Even having just one person over for a cup of tea and good conversation will create a time of hospitality and connection. Make it simple so that you enjoy it and can focus on sharing your heart with your guests. A TEA PARTY HAS ITS OWN MANNERS Serving tea is a wonderful excuse for sharpening etiquette around the table. Mothers can use this time to teach their young daughters about the importance of learning and practicing good manners. • The server of teas and all liquids will serve from the right. The person being served will hold their cups in the left hand. You may adjust this if the person receiving is left-handed. • To prevent from getting lipstick on your teacup, blot your lipstick before you sit down at the serving table. • Scones and crumpets should be eaten in small bite-sized pieces. If butter, jam, or cream is used, add them to each piece as it is eaten. • Good manners will dictate proper conversation. The goodies are theatre, museums, fine arts, music, movies, literature, and travel. The baddies are politics, religion, aches and pains, deaths, and negative discussion. Keep the conversation upbeat. • A knife and fork are usually used with open-faced sandwiches and cakes with icing. • Milk or cream is always added after the tea is poured.

FOODS KNOWN TO BE HIGH IN FODMAPS THAT SHOULD THEREFORE BE RESTRICTED* Additives (sweeteners and added fiber): fructo-oligosaccharides, high-fructose corn syrup, honey, inulin, isomalt, mannitol, maltitol, polydextrose, sorbitol, xylitol Cereal and grain foods: bran (from wheat, rye, or barley); bread (from wheat, rye, or barley); breakfast cereals, granolas, and muesli (from wheat, rye, or barley); crackers (from wheat or rye); pasta, including couscous and gnocchi (from wheat); wheat noodles (chow mein, udon, etc.) Drinks: chamomile and fennel tea, chicory-based coffee substitutes, juices made from unsuitable fruits (below) Fruits: apples, apricots, Asian pears, blackberries, boysenberries, cherries, figs, mangoes, nectarines, peaches, pears, persimmons, plums, prunes, tamarillos, watermelon, white peaches Legumes: beans (all kinds, including certain forms of soy, such as textured vegetable protein/TVP), chickpeas, lentils Milk and milk products: custard, ice cream, milk (cow’s, goat’s, and sheep’s, including whole, low-fat, skim, evaporated, and condensed), pudding, soft cheeses, yogurt (cow’s, sheep’s, or goat’s) Nuts: cashews, pistachios Vegetables: artichokes (globe and Jerusalem), asparagus, cauliflower, garlic (and garlic powder in large amounts), leeks, mushrooms, onions (red, white, yellow, and onion powder), scallions (white part), shallots, snow peas, sugar snap peas

Essential Ingredients in the Paleo Kitchen   Transitioning to a Paleo lifestyle means that gradually you’ll become familiar with previously unknown ingredients. Stock your pantry with some of the foods from below and you’ll always have something quick and easy to whip up: Frozen broth (for adding to meals in a pinch – see recipe below) Plenty of dried herbs and spices (oregano, black pepper, turmeric and cinnamon are always needed and full of antioxidants) Cans of coconut milk and cream (for soups and smoothies) Coconut oil, olive oil, avocado oil (for cooking and dressings) Fresh lemons Fresh garlic and ginger Fresh herbs such as coriander and parsley (grow some on your kitchen window sill) Avocadoes A jar of tahini (a great peanut butter substitute and salad dressing ingredient) Dijon mustard (for any kind of meat) Honey Crushed tomatoes or tomato puree (avoid those brands in cans) Eggs Greek yogurt (for sauces) A bar of 80% cacao dark chocolate (for when your cravings hit!) Plenty of good quality butter

pasta carbonara. You fry fresh rosemary in olive oil, with a pinch of salt and insane amounts of finely chopped garlic. Add a little chopped pancetta, then make the sauce by adding a pint of whole milk and curdling it with a tablespoon of vinegar. Boil it down for ten minutes, and mix in a couple of beaten eggs right at the end. Sprinkle on some finely shaved fresh parmesan—never the pre-grated stuff—and coarsely ground black pepper.

You will need to increase the number of eggs and liquid when using coconut flour. The general ratio rule I follow is 1/2 cup (60 g) coconut flour plus 5 eggs plus 1/2 cup (120 ml) coconut milk (or other liquid). This ratio will vary depending on the other ingredients in the recipe; for example, if the recipe calls for mashed bananas, the bananas will add extra moisture to the batter, so you’ll need to reduce another liquid, say coconut milk, by 1/4 cup (60 ml). And if I’m adding cacao powder to a recipe, I usually adjust the flour down a little or increase the liquid slightly because cacao powder also absorbs moisture. Break Up Lumps. Coconut flour tends to be clumpy, so sifting the flour before mixing it into a recipe will help you avoid finding clumps in your baked goods. I tend to place my batters in a food processor, which helps break down the clumps without having to sift the flour. Store It Dry. Coconut flour is best if stored at room temperature in your pantry.

Cow’s blood will do, but we prefer human. You know because it’s stronger. Cows are just dumb beasts, chewing their cud and making milk, but humans, especially virgins, have so much more in their blood. All their thoughts and desires spice it. Virgins are the best because they have all that pent up frustration and need added in.” Mary narrowed her eyes. “Yes, virgins have the best blood. Are you a virgin?” The guy’s eyes about popped out of his head. He stammered a no and fled. His friends called out after him, but he kept going. A small wicked smile crossed her face as she hoisted her book bag and began shoving her way through the hall to her fifth period class.

one at a time. Beat in the lemon juice and vanilla extract. Combine the flour, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl. Add ⅓ of the dry ingredients to the butter mixture, alternating with adding ⅓ of the buttermilk. (I used a cup of milk with one tablespoon of cider vinegar instead of buttermilk.)  Pulse in the chopped strawberries until they are small pieces and the batter begins to look pink. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 40 minutes until a toothpick stuck in the center comes out dry.

WEEK#1 SHOPPING LIST   *FRUITS & VEGETABLES ALL ORGANIC AND/OR WILD *MEATS FREE RANGE, NO ANTIBIOTICS OR HORMONES ADDED *FISH OCEAN WISE & WILD *Remember to always read the ingredients and check for added sugars, chemicals and MSG etc.   1 LEMON 2 LIMES 4 MEDIUM YELLOW ONIONS 1 BUNDLE ORGANIC GREEN ONIONS 1 RED ONION 1 GINGER ROOT 2 WHOLE GARLIC 1 BUNDLE OF ASPARGUS 2 CAULIFLOWER HEADS 2 ORGANIC RED PEPPERS 2 GREEN PEPPERS 3 AVOCADOS 1 PACK BOK CHOY 15 ORGANIC TOMATOES 1 SPAGHETTI SQUASH 3 SWEET POTATOES 1 YAM 2 BUNDLES OF ORGANIC BROCCOLI 6 ZUCCHINI 4 CARROTS 3 BEETS 12-15 BROWN MUSHROOMS 1 SMALL BAG/BOX ARUGULA SALAD 1 BUNDLE OF ROMAINE LETTUCE 1 BUNDLE FRESH BASIL   2 APPLES 1 BANANA 1 SMALL PACKAGE FRESH OR FROZEN WILD BLUEBERRIES 1 ORANGE   2 PACKAGES FREE RANGE NO ANTIOBIOTIC EGGS (24 TOTAL)   1 20oz (750Ml) TOMATO SAUCE 1 CAN 14OZ TOMATO PUREE 2 8oz (250mL) CANS COCONUT CREAM 2 16oz (500mL) CANS COCONUT MILK 1 12OZ CAN PUMPKIN PUREE   JAR OF OLIVES (no sugars added)   1 - ½ LB SMALL BAG (200G) OF REAL CRAB MEAT 2 – 2 LB BAGS (400G EACH) OF FROZEN WILD SHRIMP & SCALLOP MEDLEY 1 LARGE PIECE WILD SOCKEY SALMON (FRESH) 1 LB BEEF SIRLOIN 1LB GROUND BEEF 1 ½ LB (750G) NO-ANTIOBIOTIC CHICKEN SLICES 4 NO-ANTIOBIOTIC ALL NATURAL CHICKEN BREAST 7OZ (400G) ORGANIC GROUND TURKEY 1 PACKAGE MSG-FREE, NO NITRATE BACON   100G DRIED FRUIT (BLUEBERRIES, CRANBERRIES) 200G HAZELNUTS 100G ALMONDS 100G CASHEWS 100 WALNUTS 100G SESAME SEEDS 50G PUMPKIN SEEDS   1 BOTTLE NO SULFITE ORGANIC WHITE WINE (OPTIONAL)  

Raspberry Cupcakes (makes approximately 12 cupcakes) I top these with white-chocolate mint frosting. You could also just go with vanilla frosting … but why be normal? INGREDIENTS: 1 cup milk 1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar 1-1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking powder 3/4 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 3/4 cup granulated sugar 1/3 cup canola oil 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 6-ounce container fresh raspberries (or equal amount frozen raspberries, thawed), mashed into pulp INSTRUCTIONS: Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a muffin pan with cupcake liners. In a large bowl, whisk together the milk and vinegar, and set aside for a few minutes to curdle. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Once the milk has curdled, add in the sugar, oil, vanilla extract, and raspberry pulp, and stir. Then slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet ones a little bit at a time, and combine using a whisk or handheld mixer, stopping to scrape the sides of the bowl a few times, until no lumps remain. Fill cupcake liners two-thirds of the way and bake for 20–22 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack, and let cool completely before frosting. White-Chocolate Mint Frosting INGREDIENTS: 4-1/2 ounces white chocolate, finely chopped 6 tablespoons margarine or butter 2 cups confectioners’ sugar 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 teaspoon mint extract or minced fresh mint leaves (NOT peppermint) Up to 1/4 cup milk INSTRUCTIONS: In a double boiler, melt the white chocolate until smooth, then remove and cool to room temperature. If you prefer, you can instead melt the white chocolate in a small bowl in the microwave, heating it on high for a few seconds at a time, then stirring until smooth. (Repeat heating if necessary, but don’t overdo it!) In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, cream the margarine or butter until it’s a lighter color, about 2–3 minutes. Slowly beat in the confectioners’ sugar in 1/2-cup batches, adding the vanilla extract and either mint extract or minced fresh mint leaves about halfway through. Add the melted white chocolate to the frosting and combine thoroughly. If the frosting seems too stiff and thick, add a little milk until the right consistency is reached. Continue mixing on high speed for about 3–7 minutes, until the frosting is light and fluffy. Place in the refrigerator until firm enough to frost, about 30 minutes.

GRANDMA GLORIA’S BETTER THAN SEX CAKE 1 heaping cup walnuts, finely chopped 1 cup flour 1 stick butter, softened ¾ cup confectioners’ sugar 1 8-ounce package cream cheese, softened 1 large container Cool Whip, thawed 1 large box instant chocolate pudding 3 cups milk Preheat oven to 350°F. Crust: Mix butter, flour, and most of the nuts together (reserve 2 tablespoons for garnish) and press into a 9 x 13-inch pan. Bake for 20 minutes and cool completely. First Layer: Beat confectioners’ sugar, cream cheese, and 1 cup of Cool Whip with an electric mixer until well blended, and spread carefully over crust. Second Layer: Beat pudding and milk for 2 minutes with an electric mixer and spread over first layer. Third Layer: Spread Cool Whip generously over the pudding layer and garnish with remaining nuts. Refrigerate several hours before serving, and then enjoy! (Alternatively, let the pudding set for a few hours before adding Cool Whip Layer (makes Cool Whip easier to spread). Warning: Aphrodisiac properties well documented. Consume at your own risk!

Deep Chocolate Pound Cake Mixing boiling water into the cocoa powder is the key to creating a deep chocolate flavor: This melts the cocoa butter and disperses the cocoa through-out the batter. Adding mini chocolate chips that melt into the cake intensifies the flavor even more. Cut any leftover cake into cubes and layer it in glasses with sweetened whipped cream, fresh raspberries, and a touch of chocolate sauce for pretty individual trifles. 8 servings 2¼ cups unbleached all purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking powder ¾ teaspoon coarse kosher salt ¼ teaspoon baking soda ½ cup sour cream ½ cup whole milk ¼ cup natural unsweetened cocoa powder ¼ cup honey 2 tablespoons boiling water ¾ cup sugar ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature 2 large eggs 1 teaspoon vanilla extract ½ cup mini semisweet chocolate chips Position rack in center of oven; preheat to 350°F. Butter and flour 9×5×3-inch metal loaf pan; tap out excess flour. Whisk flour, baking powder, coarse salt, and baking soda in medium bowl. Whisk sour cream and milk in small bowl. Sift cocoa into another small bowl. Whisk in honey and 2 tablespoons boiling water until smooth. Cool completely. Using electric mixer, beat sugar and butter in another medium bowl until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Beat in eggs 1 at a time, occasionally scraping down sides of bowl. Beat in vanilla. Add cooled cocoa mixture; stir until smooth, occasionally scraping down bowl. Beat in flour mixture alternately with sour cream mixture in 2 additions each until just blended. Stir in chocolate chips. Transfer batter to prepared pan; smooth top. Bake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 1 hour 8 minutes. Remove cake from pan and cool.

She’s rather desperate to marry the lot of you off, isn’t she?” “All I know,” Anthony said with a shrug, “is that my mother invited so many eligible women last time that she had to go down to the vicar’s and beg his sixteen-year-old son to come up for supper.” Kate winced. “I think I met him.” “Yes, he’s painfully shy, poor fellow. The vicar told me he had hives for a week after ending up seated next to Cressida Cowper at supper.” “Well, that would give anyone hives.” Anthony grinned. “I knew you had a mean streak in you.” “I’m not being mean!” Kate protested. But her smile was sly. “It was nothing more than the truth.” “Don’t defend yourself on my account.” He finished the tea; it was bitterly strong from having sat in the pot for so long, but the milk made it almost palatable. Setting the cup down, he added, “Your mean streak is one of the things I like best about you.” “Goodness,” she muttered, “I should hate to know what you like least.” -Kate & Anthony

I called them “toxic foods” because they are unhealthful and can cause harm to your future baby. They include swordfish, shark, king mackerel, and tilefish, soft cheeses and unpasteurized milk, hot dogs, luncheon meats, deli meats, raw or smoked seafood, raw or undercooked meat, unwashed vegetables, raw vegetable sprouts, unpasteurized juices, liver, saturated fats, trans fats, partially hydrogenated oils, added sugars including high-fructose corn syrup, refined flour, and herbal preparations.