How does one make a Spanish tortilla? I keep trying, and somehow end up with scrambled eggs and home fries. Help!
If you focus on your destination, then the journey will betray you. Many a traveler has set off for El Dorado and wound up at a discount hotel. Do not start with ground corn, water and spices. Depart them, wordlessly, and make the tortilla seek you out. There will break a dawn when you will find yourself on a street in Venice. A radio will play a song you’d forgotten you’d remembered. Turn around twice. Embrace your fear. That’s when the tortilla will hand you an umbrella.
I have a really nice ass, but I don’t have a boyfriend. How can I get someone to love me?
’Cause it’s 2009. Two thousand and nine is the year of the killer rack. Two thousand and eight was the year of the really nice ass. Wait till it cycles around again in 2015.
My neck is super sore after a night of dancing. How can I find out why this is the case?
A night of dancing? In Houston? Be happy it’s only your neck that’s sore.
There’s a nice, small, family-run grocery store on my block. Recently I’ve been reading about the upsides of feeding your dog real food, not the cardboard that passes for “dog food.” Anyway, I fed him some carrots and beef from this grocery store and now my dog is dead. Do you think I could sue the grocery store, and is it possible to sue for a new dog?
James David Lighton
Dear Mr. Lighton,
“Carrots and beef”? I’m going to assume you served your dog sliced carrots and some sort of ground beef, possibly chuck. Quaint, tasty, and simple, yes? It’s clear your dog died not from any foodborne illness but from mortifi cation. Any pairing of a root vegetable with “upper- half” meats (chuck, rib, short loin, the three sirloins and round) should also include a dark, bitter vegetable to counteract the intensity of the beef and the sweet/starchy quality of the root vegetable. When your dog realized he was forever shackled to such a culinary philistine, he surely willed his bodily functions to cease.
I shudder to think of your idea of a wine pairing. The poor mutt probably died with the sad tang of an overpriced Neb biolo on his tongue.
When I moved into my house, the former occupants notified me that the trees in the backyard were lemon trees. However, the fruits so far have been small, green, hard, and gives all indications of actually being limes. Is there a way to determine whether these are undernourished lemons or impostors?
Trying to taste the difference between a lemon and a lime? It’s the age-old conundrum, and also a swell XTC lyric! Hey, why doesn’t XTC tour anymore? Someone told me Andy Partridge was afflicted with crippling stage fright, but then someone else told me he’s kind of an asshole and doesn’t like his bandmates. Either way, it doesn’t stop Drums and Wires from being one of my favorite albums. And all that nonsense about Skylarking being overproduced makes me want to throw a tin toy at a policeman! “Another Satellite” is a perfect, soaking-in-a-hot-tub-at-the-end-of-a-hard-day groove. And don’t even get me started on “Summer’s Cauldron”!
I have what I believe is an unnamed phobia and I’m looking for some insight. I can’t bear to see my “bite mark” or rather “teeth profile” left behind when a piece of food is set back upon a plate. This usually occurs after the first bite of, for example, a piece of toast. Cream cheese only makes it worse. I then respond by quickly nipping the corner or edge off of the offensive shape with another, smaller bite. Thoughts?
Oh. My. God. After all these years of searching, hoping to avenge the death of my sister. The Neatly Nibbled Morsel Killer, falling into my trap. Stay right where you are, fiend!
Do you know of a full-body ergonomic sling I could drape myself in while typing? Something that could keep me suspended in a position of bliss and faux-zero G? Even now, as I type these words with one fi nger (it’s a quick fi nger!), I feel shooting pains lancing up my wrists and through my shoulders, causing a cascade of aches to shudder across my back. My lower back is a repository of pain. Also, I think my left leg is shorter than my right.
Huh. Besides the Belly-Down Typ-o-matic BlissCradle from WombCrave Office Furniture, I’m drawing a blank. Sorry.