Where to go, What to see

Say Boo to a Goose…

A deliciously absurd saying.

I heard a Scottish actor use this phrase in an interview once. Enticed by its ridiculous-ness (the tone, the rhyme), I discovered that it means to be a little daring.

Once upon a time, in Celtic villages of yesteryear, it was the youngest girl’s chore to take care of the household geese. Generally herding them about, from here to there, mostly by startling them. So to say “He wouldn’t say Boo to a Goose” means the person in question is a namby, pamby, pigtailed wimp.

I travel alone, am an occasional hermit. But now and then, because a yearning for attention foams its way to the surface, I can find myself unwitting bell of a really nice ball.

I say this and detail some of my misadventures to prod you just to get out - even if you have no partner for your voyages. Find a reason to launch an expedition, go on a journey, see something different, look for anything outside your regular world… near or far. Maybe your road won’t take you exactly where you expect, but you’ll be so much the better for getting out there, I know. 

In other words, step outside.  Spook a goose or three. 

What to Eat

Butter my Parsnips,

Or so the saying goes.

Lacking perfect parsnips in which to butter, I instead find happiness by chomping on a fat NY Bagel.  

I eat… a lot, am greedy, perhaps gluttonous. However, every morsel that passes between my lips must earn right of entry. It must be truly desired.

 I cook… mostly for better, occasionally worse. The Kitchen, its equipment, my mundane pantry staples, enticing ingredients, gourmet or not, from wherever I find them represent an exercise in pursuit of perfection. I search for inspiration; long for excitement which I discover in both ordinary and exotic fare.

 Detailed here, you will find my hunger-driven exploits, either from my kitchen or someone else’s, where I’ve been served, or done the serving. All have, I assure you, buttered both my parsnips and my bagel… and they even might butter yours too.

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