The revels began at Tart & Kindly, a nom de plume of smoke name for a Bowery bar where the drinks are $10. Man, that’s not the Bowery I remember! I won’t go down there no more, as the song says. And what’s up with those whiskey-sour bartendresses? Termite walks into a bar and says “Is the bar tender here?” Nyet! This one was practically French if you know what I mean. We were there because Monstress was distributing her genius Valentines, a complex packet including stickers, Sharpie, and pamphlet (“it’s just a short pamphlet”; I think Marx started like that, too). Witty and wise (and good punctuation): The Ardor Arbiter Starter Kit, Standard Issue. This woman needs an exhibit, damn it!
Then it was back to the Cobble ranch/bachelor pad for some aphrodisiacal risotto. I also made this bread pudding/trifle combo for dessert; this award winner is sending NEONY to the Napa Valley. Gooey deliciousness. I can’t believe she could eat “five plates” of it (hell, I had to put some in a goodie bag come morning). Naturally, I made some adjustments to the recipe, since the thought of chocolate liqueur makes me wanna hurl. I used Grand Marnier instead and threw in some tristar strawberry coulis from my frozen CSA collection. Tart little berries. Tart little oranges. Sweet pudding.
Now, did you know that “pudding” is an all-purpose Britishism? It means dessert, as in soup, chop, two veg, and pudding. It can also be specific to such things as spotted dick and pig’s bum. (A strange people, it’s true.) And it can be savory, as in the Yorkshire pudding, that sublime pop-over. As is well known in philosophical circles, the proof is in the pudding. The inimitable CS, blacksheep of the Rockaways, referred to an old GF of mine as “Puddin’” See Norman Lindsay’s The Magic Pudding, the odd Australian children’s epic about an inexhaustible pudding that talks and walks, pudding bowl on its head, and tastes like whatever you want. A food source that never ends: did all those transported hoodlums shipped down under have hunger issues? Coupla Lindsay’s koala gents:
There will be pudding!