Last night I dreamed I was back in the Coast Guard.
I saw my old captain, Ltjg. Alexander.
I saw Nob, the old cook.
The sea was dark and heaving beneath our gleaming white cutter.
I was happy as a pig in shit.
Something in me does love the harsh sea.
Though I know her, and should fear her better.
Today I am making Pho. I have made a stock with chicken stock and garlic and flame-charred ginger and sweet onions and star anise and cinnamon and fish sauce and lime juice and soy sauce and brown sugar and serrano chiles.
I will yet add mint and basil and cilantro and red onion and green onion and caramelized pork chops and whatever the hell else I can find to throw in there.
Here it is:
I have cleaned the house until it gleams and ditto for the dog.
We are all for the boneyard.
Let’s eat good in the meantime, shall we?
|Bullet and Buddha, Casa De Lavaplatos Lacrimos Y La Mujer En El Borde|