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The fossilization of memory. Sounds too scientific, too pedagogic. Very much like the notes I used to write in Zoology, only in a sentimental context. Note that this blog is a hole in my failing consciousness. Should you leave this blog wondering about things, e-mail me at utakgago [at] gmail [dot] com for questions, job offers, and for-the-lack-of-a-breather e-mails. Subscribe via RSS.

Hey, I have a monstrous flu spell.

Wow. I don’t know where I got this flu but I had it and it was wow.

It has crippled my ability to cook (or at least, to taste what I have cooked).

Yesterday I cooked Braised Short Ribs with lots of red wine on it and basil and thyme and tomato purees and I can’t even TASTE if it’s good. My Dad told me it tasted very well, that it was surprisingly sweet (given that the recipe was full of tomatoes).

A while ago, I de-scaled the tuna belly leftovers last New Year’s Eve and made them Tuna Fillets (soaked it in cayenne pepper and flour, egg, and bread crumbs) and I can’t even TASTE the garlic-mayo sauce I made! I can’t believe it myself that even the strong, garlicky taste was totally bland for my taste buds.

Meals are so bland when you have flu. Well it’s good for people who diet but how about chef wannabes like me? How can I even establish a cooking empire?

Wait, did I say I was on a diet? No?

I hate this flu spell. It was bad. I attended a Saturday night party somewhere, a debut celebration, and all I did was sneeze a bit and put my handkerchief on my nose and blow my brains out. I could have enjoyed the party and the beer (heck I didn’t even finish my beer) and the food (my friends said the fried chicken’s great, and that the pseudo-Mongolian vegetables are spicy) but the flu’s a big killjoy I went home at around 10PM just because I can’t stay any longer in the party sneezing my way to live.

Anyway, I’ve finished reading Running with Scissors and I’ll post a review someday. I’m now reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey, and hopefully it’ll be a good read. I think this book is included at Time Magazine’s 100 Best Novels. Sadly, it involved an asylum of some sort. Strike two for me, since Running with Scissors had an asylum-like atmosphere while reading.

Oh, and I’m thinking of installing an anti-spam plug-in in this blog. Any suggestions? I’ve checked the comments and I had 283 comments: one non-spam comment I was able to rescue, and it is from Skron (thanks for dropping by!) and the rest were Viagra promoters and nude DVDs salesmen. Nice try, really.

I’m sorry I’m lazy to post something halfway decent today. The flu may have also crippled my ability to blog. Oh, I also posted something similar in my Tumblr. Go visit! No?

January 11, 2009 at 10:46 pm, filed under Gastrorgasmic, IRLs, Slang and random, Stress ball narratives. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

Timeline

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