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Jasonlizard asks "What does your life mean to you?"
I have no idea. Never have, really. The usual stuff - be decent to other people, leave the place better than you found it and have a good time in the process, that's all sensible advice but it doesn't really touch on what life means, really. So I dunno. I give up.
Frederic wonders "If you owned a bar or restaurant, what strange drinks would you have on the menu?"
Those cute little drink menus with the unique and special cocktails, I love those. I'd change the menu on monthly basis, or maybe seasonally, whatever the wait staff and I could dream up. I want some sort of martini garnished with a rifle bullet. I want a drink flavored with honey, citrus and saffron, with iridescent dust floating on top, I'd call it the Golden Monkey Daemon. And I want something cold, ice cold and pale blue, served in a glass wired to deliver a tingly electric current when you take a sip.
ChristianB desperately needs to know "What's your favorite kind of cheese?"
Manchego! No, fresh Mozzarella di Bufalo! No, aged Parmesan Reggiano! Argh!
Alleged : "What's your biggest regret in life?"
At certain times, in certain situations, I have not been as kind as I could have been to certain people. I am slowly learning that sometimes you can be considerate and sensitive to another person's feelings without compromising the truth, insulting their ability to cope, or projecting limits to your own freedom. When I leave this planet, I suspect that I will look back and regret every single time someone close to me was hurting and I failed to make them feel better.
Bloodcicle wants to know: "When it comes to preparing a meal. What is your specialty?"
I think my specialty is having a good time when I'm cooking, which means prepping and measuring and putting ingredients in little bowls before the guests arrive, know where everything is and when everything's supposed to go in, so when the burners go on I can relax and pour drinks and hang out at the same time I'm simmering, stirring and sautéing.
Insist that everyone eat their steak bloody rare. Lay the oyster shells on a bed of crushed ice to keep them upright and cold. If at all possible, finish the pan with liberal splash of cognac and light it on fire. Always cook with music - cool bossanova in the summertime, the Bulgarian Women's Choir in the winter.
It's important to name your lobsters and talk to them tenderly before plunging them into the boiling water.
Mr. Zero inquires "What are we drinking in our next martini?"
Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Pax Industria asks "What’s the air speed velocity of a fully laden swallow?"
It's always bugged me a little bit how "air speed velocity" is redundant; makes me wonder if they said it on purpose. Irregardlessly, I'm absolutely positive that a fully laden swallow would fly slower than the speed of light. Wait, is that African light or European light?
I have no idea. Never have, really. The usual stuff - be decent to other people, leave the place better than you found it and have a good time in the process, that's all sensible advice but it doesn't really touch on what life means, really. So I dunno. I give up.
Frederic wonders "If you owned a bar or restaurant, what strange drinks would you have on the menu?"
Those cute little drink menus with the unique and special cocktails, I love those. I'd change the menu on monthly basis, or maybe seasonally, whatever the wait staff and I could dream up. I want some sort of martini garnished with a rifle bullet. I want a drink flavored with honey, citrus and saffron, with iridescent dust floating on top, I'd call it the Golden Monkey Daemon. And I want something cold, ice cold and pale blue, served in a glass wired to deliver a tingly electric current when you take a sip.
ChristianB desperately needs to know "What's your favorite kind of cheese?"
Manchego! No, fresh Mozzarella di Bufalo! No, aged Parmesan Reggiano! Argh!
Alleged : "What's your biggest regret in life?"
At certain times, in certain situations, I have not been as kind as I could have been to certain people. I am slowly learning that sometimes you can be considerate and sensitive to another person's feelings without compromising the truth, insulting their ability to cope, or projecting limits to your own freedom. When I leave this planet, I suspect that I will look back and regret every single time someone close to me was hurting and I failed to make them feel better.
Bloodcicle wants to know: "When it comes to preparing a meal. What is your specialty?"
I think my specialty is having a good time when I'm cooking, which means prepping and measuring and putting ingredients in little bowls before the guests arrive, know where everything is and when everything's supposed to go in, so when the burners go on I can relax and pour drinks and hang out at the same time I'm simmering, stirring and sautéing.
Insist that everyone eat their steak bloody rare. Lay the oyster shells on a bed of crushed ice to keep them upright and cold. If at all possible, finish the pan with liberal splash of cognac and light it on fire. Always cook with music - cool bossanova in the summertime, the Bulgarian Women's Choir in the winter.
It's important to name your lobsters and talk to them tenderly before plunging them into the boiling water.
Mr. Zero inquires "What are we drinking in our next martini?"
Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Pax Industria asks "What’s the air speed velocity of a fully laden swallow?"
It's always bugged me a little bit how "air speed velocity" is redundant; makes me wonder if they said it on purpose. Irregardlessly, I'm absolutely positive that a fully laden swallow would fly slower than the speed of light. Wait, is that African light or European light?
