Ooo, wow. Nora Ephron not only makes delicious movies, but she also makes delicious pies. This is the chocolate cream pie Amy Adams' character makes in the first fifteen minutes of Julie and Julia . I found this recipe and three others connected to the film on the Internet, so I think it's okay to share here. I haven't had any of the finished product yet. I put the chocolate custard into the pie crust, swooped a few pretty flourishes on the top, then mashed them down with a cover of plastic wrap. It's in the fridge to cool and congeal and will be ready for consumption in the morning. (I'll have a taste then, but I'm waiting until I have someone to eat it with before eating a whole piece.) But there were several spoons to lick after I'd finished cooking, and let me tell you ... WOW. The finished custard was a little bitter, like semi-sweet chocolate. But it'll be between a sweet graham cracker crust and whipped cream with sugar and vanilla mixed ...
The friend I visit teach said something Tuesday night that made me say DUH in a big way: "If it's ugly and you can't do anything about it, then work on top of it so it looks like you did the ugly stuff on purpose." Why didn't I think of that years ago?! I've griped to everyone at one point or another about my kitchen. I live in a one-bedroom flat in SoCA, and I've been there for almost thirteen years. The kitchen is spacious and has lots of cabinet and drawer space, but the color combination is not one I would have chosen. The cabinets are ancient (the silverware drawer is falling apart) and varnished a dark-but-bright orangey-brown color. The counter tile, on the other hand, is a bright baby pink. It's like putting a bright pink sweater on a Weasley; you just cringe. The landlord, lovely man that he is, did a ton of plumbing, carpeting, and painting improvements to the flat a year ago, so I don't want to antagonize him by asking for new cabi...
I'm used to being alone. I've always liked it, even when I was a baby. I am a social animal like everyone else, but efforts to be social has usually led to me being by myself again (either excluded or overwhelmed). I've spent the last decade sitting in front of the computer, writing stories and blogging and socializing via the Internet. Not the best way to conduct my life. Then came Max, lots of dates, and having conversations with someone without our computers connecting us. It's been scary and delightful, and I've never been happier, even though I am the personification of insecurity. But I'm a little less insecure after a year of this, and acceptance from one source has given me the courage to think that maybe I don't have to be a cringing mess for the rest of my life. Not that everything's perfect. After several months of having more of a life than just LiveJournal, the solitary beast within has thrown back its head and howled, I can haz alone...