...and if she reads another recipe like this:
Core an organic apple and slice into rings. Sprinkle apple rings with organic cinnamon and drizzle with agave nectar. Now enjoy your delicious RAW donuts!
Core an organic apple and slice into thick, burger-shaped circles. Sprinkle with organic sea salt and drizzle with Braggs Liquid Aminos. Now sink your fangs into your hearty and filling RAW burger!
she is going to lose her shizz.
INTERN spent the weekend job-hunting, a task made ten times more interesting by the fact that Techie Boyfriend found a college friend of his (who is from Seattle!) wandering the streets in a manic episode, took him home, and generously offered him half of INTERN's dwindling stash of antipsychotics (Manic Friend's supply of said drug had run out several days before). Result: Manic Friend sleeps for the first time in days, and INTERN is overcome by a fit of uncontrollable frolicking.
It's all cool, though, because INTERN has now applied for a few jobs ranging from "office assistant" to "life-drawing model" and has even secured herself a few gigs as a self-described Piano Whisperer (basically a faith healer for the worn-out Little Mozarts of high-powered investment banker parents). She had her first piano whispering gig on Saturday, and it was powerful stuff:
First two minutes: INTERN arrives, exchanges professional niceties with investment banker parents.
Next two minutes: Parents depart. Their nice but obviously stressed-out eight-year old daughter leads INTERN to the grand piano and tinkles her way through the first sixteen measures of some awful sonatina.
Next twenty minutes: Eight-year old girl explodes in tears. INTERN listens and responds caringly to ensuing piano-related catharsis.
Next twenty minutes: INTERN asks eight-year old girl to run get her iPod. Rest of piano whispering session is spent listening to T-Pain. Now and then INTERN makes some casual inquiry about T-Pain and his music, and eight-year old girl (a T-Pain expert, practically an academic in the field) responds knowledgeably.
Next two minutes: Investment banker parents reappear with a cheque. Eight-year old girl's confidence appears to be restored. Appointment is made for the following week.
There's got to be a future in this.
Anyway, things are pretty good. INTERN is off to make herself a raw donut now. Mmm...
You're gonna be just fine.ReplyDelete
Oh geez...it's not like I don't enjoy an apple with cinnamon sprinkled on it, but to call it a donut? Or a Hamburger? Should be called 101 Things to Make with an Apple.ReplyDelete
Sounds like a great gig. But doesn't a cheque have to be in pounds? Or at least Canadian $$$?ReplyDelete
Couldn't the recipe have said 'fry it up nicely in canola oil and drizzle with caramel glaze'????ReplyDelete
Very depressing cookbook. A recipe isn't worth the paper it's printed on unless it involvesReplyDelete
2)Heavy Whipping cream
3) Gratuitous amounts of eggs
4)Some sort of liquor for saute-ing
I subscribe to the French cooking philosophy.
Anything that advertises itself as low-fat, low-sodium, reduced-sugar, gluten-free, Atkins-Friendly, Animal-friendly, etc., is just asking for trouble...and blandness. Beware the hyphen!
I can only assume the foray into raw food diet is financially induced. Blech.ReplyDelete
Good luck with the job hunt! Piano whispering sounds kind of perfect.
How did you ever come up with the piano whisperer idea? You're like a nice Becky Sharp--endlessly resourceful!ReplyDelete
There's definitely a future in piano whispering, math tutor whispering, spelling bee prep. whispering, essay writing whispering, private sports coach whispering, etc. People in my neck o' the woods pay $65 an hr. for someone to do flash cards with their elementary school darlings. No kidding. It's a mad mad world for children these days. Whisper on.ReplyDelete
Hurray for the Piano Whisperer! You've made that little girl happier than she's been since the day she got talked into piano lessons.ReplyDelete
Hahaha! Check out this blog...she can actually make raw donuts...http://rawgoddessheathy.blogspot.com/ReplyDelete
That is just weird! And yet funnyReplyDelete
Someday I'll tell my friends, "I knew her when."
A donut a day keeps the doctor away.ReplyDelete
Good luck with the job hunt, although I believe you have probably hit the way to Make It Rich with that music teacher gig.ReplyDelete
Now you need to teach your student to play TPain using the Suzuki method (fiddle till you learn how yourself) and the parents will nod and claim you a genius 'who is nurturing their child's exploration of her internal landscape without implying or providing false limitations' or some such. (I just made that crap up but I've heard similar stuff during my own experiences of California's 'new math' and other educational experiments.)
The Suzuki method, though, apparently works. So there is certainly room for you to hang out your shingle! :)
Decadent? Bodacious? Do words mean nothing anymore?ReplyDelete
Oh INTERN I was reminded of this blog after a phone call today.ReplyDelete
Uncle that never calls: I wanna enter an adaptation of Animal Farm in a contest. How do I get permission to adapt it into a play?
Me: You have to write to the original agent, in England.
UTNC: But you work for the publishing house that publishes it in Brazil.
Me: I'm only an intern there, uncle. And anyway, only the agent can give you permission. I'll get you the name and the address tomorrow.
UTNC: But can you get in touch with them for me? And I won't have to pay for anything, right?
We raw fooders do not make a good name for ourselves, do we? Oh dear. Those apple recipes sound unappetizing to even a real live eater of the uncooked. See? We're not all crazy! Oh wait...we kind of might be. But there's a subset of us who are maybe the good kind of crazy. I can tell I'm not making progress here.ReplyDelete
Anyway, happy piano whispering.
Food like that won't make you hippy. It will turn you into a slender hippie though.ReplyDelete
I never eat apples unless there's gravy on 'em!ReplyDelete
Haste yee back ;-)
First, high five on the awesomely lucrative piano-whispering gig. We can see this cash cow tiding you over until someone recognizes the brilliance and hires you.ReplyDelete
Second, man your roommate better write that book under a nome de plume because there is nothing meaner than me when I'm expecting a donut or a juicy hamburger and I get an apple instead. Oh yes, me no likey when the cookbook tries to trick us with the healthy food choices. No, not at all.
I actually make sliced apples sprinkled with cinnamon and agave (or plain old sugar) all the time. But I call them apples sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, not donuts. There's no fooling my taste buds.ReplyDelete
INTERN, you consistently make my day. Or night, as it were. Great, great stuff.ReplyDelete