Tonight I'm going over to Tim and Jamie's apartment for Halloween.
Watch cheesey movies, play rock band, pass out candy, and maybe even
play a game of Arkham Horror
Sometimes I take it for granted,
It can be so easy to forget.
When your soul is already on fire,
Sometimes you can forget to eat.
But when the soul runs dry,
At the times when I feel hollow and empty,
In the midst of moments where your soul feels like it's wasted away,
As if there were no feelings of its own.
That's when I need music.
Hurt,
Anger,
Fear,
And apathy,
These forces, they eat at the life inside of me.
They are not feelings, they are the absence of passion and desire,
Indulgence in them feels at first like true emotion,
Each one gives the illusion of substance,
As they fuel your actions,
By burning away at the core of your being,
Their existence taking the space of the things you need.
And then, when they are all gone... nothing left upon which they may feed...
Music is there with every emotion there ever was,
Sadness,
Happiness,
Laughter,
Love,
Things that the English language is literally insufficient to describe,
What word is there to describe the feeling where you need to dance,
To describe that you need to dance like you need music?
That you need to cry and dance,
And smile,
And fall down,
And get back up again,
And to hug someone,
And listen to music...
I was sampling a rail car, and I had just pulled up my zone sampler
full of tar, thick and heavy and drizzling all over the outside of the
tool, when this bug flew right at it. right into it. Its wings stuck
grotesquely in the tar and they became immobile on its back as it
struggled, falling down onto the funnel but not down into my jar. From
this moment it was dead. The tar would kill it, and anything that
might wash the tar off would kill it. It was dead, it just didn't know
it, yet. Crawling about on my bucket and on my sampler and funnel. Two
or three rail cars later, it tried to climb the rope, and as I worked,
it's oil weighted body fell... catching on the side of the hatch to
the car.. the oil keeping it from falling even as it kept it from
holding on... slipping.. sliding horribly downward, slowly losing as
its limbs moved slowly.. as though pushing through water even in the
air.
It finally fell. Landing on the dense tar, a heart wrenchingly slow
submersion into the semi liquid. Flailing legs and squirming, coating
itself ever more thoroughly as it sunk. The black ichor swallowed it
whole, and swallowed it slowly. Forced to stand still while my work
slowly drizzled the vile substance into my collection jar, I watched.
Fascinated, sympathetically, filled with a sort of sickness. How
watching this thing die in such a way made me feel... for something
that I might have squashed without a second thought.
How it occurs to me that it is the way it died that tore at my soul. Slowly.
Nothing should ever die slowly. What worse thing is there for a good
person than to watch the suffering of another being? I ought to have
crushed it when first it landed in my work. Crushed it and forgot it.
Better to have killed it quickly than to watch it drown, never to
return.
I wonder what the dinosaurs that fell into tar looked like.
Psychiatrists have developed and evolved the most brilliant and
coercive and subversive verbage the world has ever known. Every word
they use is carefully aimed like a precision cut to tiptoe around your
emotions and thoughts, passively avoiding questions till they need to
be asked. I was told by a therapist I knew once about the way working
with a schizophrenic goes. Say the schizophrenic has delusions that
the underside of their bed is plagued with snakes that will kill them
any time they try to leave it. As a given, they are convinced of this,
and no direct evidence could ever dispel it from their heads. Their
brain has convinced itself of the snakes' existence. This is an
unhealthy view, how can you live a fulfilling life if you never leave
your bed? You don't confront the delusion, you work around it. You ask
everything you can about the snakes. You find out if there are any
perceived ways that the person can use to get around the snakes
without them attacking. Would it help to tiptoe? Why are the snakes
there? What do the snakes want?
A person gets mad when you tell them that something they believe isn't
true. I think it's because you're challenging their world. I'd
certainly get mad if you tried hard enough to convince me that the
house I lived in wasn't mine. Everything in my universe consistently
supports that I live here, and that I have a tangible right to be
here. It is the same for a man who feels that way about a location
where he does not belong. The same for a stalker who believes that the
person he is chasing belongs with him.
I thought about this, because I was thinking about the verbage I use
to talk to people. I've never thought much about it before, but I
think that it is time that I began paying close attention to the way I
treat and talk to everyone so that I am more aware of my standings. On
some level, I can never understand people when I try to look at them
like a puzzle. They simply aren't puzzles, and it is confusing.
RED-EYE RIBEYES
Source: Recipe courtesy of Steven Raichlen
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 4
For the rub:
2 tablespoons ground dark roast coffee
2 teaspoons coarse salt
1 teaspoon pure chile powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
4 ribeye steaks, at least 1-inch thick (8 to 10 ounces each)
You'll also need:
Red-Eye Steak Sauce (recipe below) for serving (optional)
1-1/2 cups wood chips or chunks (optional), soaked for 1 hour in cold
water to cover,
then drained
Make the rub: In a small bowl, combine the coffee, salt, chile powder,
onion powder, garlic powder, coriander, black pepper, and cinnamon.
Mix well.
Place the steaks on a platter and sprinkle on both sides with the rub.
Let them sit for 15 to 20 minutes while you prepare the grill.
Set up the grill for indirect grilling and preheat to high. If using a
gas grill, add the wood chips (if using) to the smoker box before
preheating. If using a charcoal grill, toss the wood chips on the
coals. When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate. Place the
steaks on the hot grate and grill, turning with tongs, until cooked to
taste, 4 to 6 minutes per side for medium-rare. Transfer the steaks to
a warmed platter and let rest for 3 minutes.
Serve with Red-Eye Steak Sauce, if desired.
RED-EYE STEAK SAUCE
Makes about 1-1/2 cups
1 tablespoon butter
1 shallot, finely chopped (about 3 tablespoons)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon minced celery
1/2 cup brewed coffee
1/4 cup ketchup
1/4 cup tomato sauce
2 tablespoons heavy cream
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons bourbon
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon style mustard
1 teaspoon liquid smoke
Coarse salt (kosher or sea) and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan. Add the shallot, garlic, and
celery and cook over medium heat until lightly browned, 3 minutes.
Stir in the coffee, ketchup, tomato sauce, cream, soy sauce, bourbon,
Worcestershire sauce, vinegar, mustard, and liquid smoke and gradually
bring to boil.
Reduce the heat slightly and simmer the sauce until thick and richly
flavored, 8 to 10 minutes, whisking from time to time. Correct the
seasoning, adding salt and pepper or any other ingredient to taste
STEAK FROM HELL
MESQUITE GRILLED STEAK WITH FIRE-CHARRED TOMATO SALSA steakmell.jpg
This recipe comes from an unassuming steakhouse in Juarez, Mexico,
called Mitla. Mitla's steaks owe their extraordinary flavor to the
fact that they're cooked over blazing mesquite logs. You can
approximate the flavor by tossing a couple cups of soaked mesquite
chips on a backyard barbecue grill. The fire-charred salsa reinforces
the smoky flavor of the beef.
Source: The Barbecue! Bible by Steven Raichlen (Workman, 2008)
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 4
2 to 4 chiles de arbol (4 give you a nice heat)
2 large ripe tomatoes
1/3 medium onion, sliced
1 clove garlic, sliced
3 tablespoons coarsely chopped cilantro
1 to 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
4 T-bone steaks or sirloin steaks (each about 3/4-inch thick)
4 large or 8 small flour tortillas
You'll also need:
2 cups mesquite wood chips, soaked in cold water to cover for 1 hour,
then drained (optional)
Soak the chiles in a bowl of warm water until pliable, about 20
minutes. Meanwhile, set each tomato directly on a gas stove burner and
roast it over high heat until the skin is charred and blistered on all
sides, 6 to 8 minutes in all. (Or do the tomatoes in a previous
grilling session.) Transfer the tomatoes to a plate and let them cool.
Drain the chiles and remove the seeds if you prefer a milder salsa.
Place the chiles in a blender with the cooled tomatoes and the onion,
garlic, and cilantro, and process to a coarse paste. Add the lime
juice and season with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer the salsa to
a serving bowl.
Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high. If using a
gas grill, add the wood chips (if using) to the smoker box before
preheating.
When ready to cook, if using a charcoal grill, toss the wood chips on
the coals. Brush and oil the grill grate. Salt the steaks generously
on one side. Arrange the steaks on the oiled grate, salt side down,
and grill, turning once with tongs, until cooked to taste, 2 to 4
minutes per side for medium-rare. Transfer the steaks to a platter and
let rest for 3 minutes.
Meanwhile, arrange the tortillas on the grate and grill until soft and
pliable, but not browned, about 20 seconds per side. Serve the steaks
with the tortillas and the salsa on the side.
BARBECUED ONIONS
Sneak preview! Here's a recipe from "Primal Grill with Steven
Raichlen" that hasn't been posted yet at www.primalgrill.org.
Method: Indirect grilling
Serves: 8
8 Vidalia or other sweet onions, peeled
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 slices good-quality bacon, cut crosswise into 1/4-inch slices
1/2 cup your favorite brand of sweet red barbecue sauce
Freshly ground black pepper
You'll also need:
8 pieces of aluminum foil, twisted into 2-inch rings or grilling rings
1-1/2 cups of wood chips or chunks, soaked for 1 hour, then drained
Using a sharp paring knife and working opposite the stem end, cut a
cone-shaped cavity in each onion by angling your knife toward the
center and cutting in a circle. Finely chop the onion you've removed.
Set each onion on a foil ring with the cavity facing up.
Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the
bacon and chopped onion and cook over medium heat until lightly
browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Drain the bacon in a strainer over a bowl.
Place a spoonful of the bacon mixture in the cavity of each onion. Cut
the remaining 4 tablespoons of butter into 8 equal pieces. Spoon 1
tablespoon of the barbecue sauce into each onion and place a piece of
butter on top. Sprinkle with pepper.
Set up the grill for indirect grilling and preheat to medium. If using
a gas grill, place all of the wood chips or chunks into the smoker box
or a smoker pouch and run the grill on high until you see smoke.
Then reduce heat to medium. If using a charcoal grill, place a large
drip pan in the center and preheat the grill to medium, then toss all
of the wood chips or chunks on the coals.
When ready to cook, place the onions on their rings in the center of
the hot grate, over the drip pan, and away from the heat, and cover
the grill. Cook the onions until they are golden brown and tender, 40
to 60 minutes. To test for doneness, pinch the side of an onion; it
should be squeezably soft. If the filling starts to brown too much
before the onions are fully cooked, cover the onions loosely with
aluminum foil. Transfer the grilled onions to a platter or plates and
serve at once.
FIVE-SPICE SHANGHAI SHORT RIBS WITH SHANGHAI BARBECUE SAUCE
Simplify the preparation of these ribs by substituting Best of
Barbecue "Five Spice Barbecue Rub" and "Shanghai Barbecue Sauce" for
the homemade versions here. Find both at www.grilling4all.com.
Method: Indirect grilling
Serves: 4 to 6
Advance Preparation: 4 to 6 hours for marinating the meat
3 to 4 pounds beef short ribs, bone-in
For the rub:
2 tablespoons Chinese 5-spice powder
1 tablespoon teaspoon fine grained sea salt
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons ground white pepper
For the Shanghai Barbecue Sauce:
1 cup hoisin sauce
1/3 cup Chinese rice wine (Shaoxing) or dry sherry
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup ketchup
2 tablespoons unseasoned rice vinegar, or more to taste
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon peeled, minced ginger
2 scallions, white and green parts minced
You'll also need:
1-1/2 cups wood chips or chunks, soaked for 1 hour in water to cover, then
drained
Make the rub: Combine the 5-spice powder, salt, sugar, and pepper in a
small bowl and whisk to combine.
Make the barbecue sauce: In a nonreactive saucepan, combine the hoisin
sauce, wine, soy sauce, sugar, ketchup, vinegar, garlic, ginger, and
scallions. Cook over low heat, stirring frequently, until the sauce
thickens (5 to 10 minutes).
Generously sprinkle the ribs on all sides with the rub. Cover the ribs
with plastic wrap and refrigerate them while you set up the grill.
Set up a charcoal grill for indirect grilling and preheat to medium.
Place a large drip pan in the center of the grill. When ready to cook,
brush and oil the grill grate. Place the ribs in the center of the
grate over the drip pan and away from the heat. Toss half of the wood
chips on each mound of coals. Cover the grill and cook the ribs until
they are well-browned, cooked through, and tender enough to pull apart
with your fingers, about 1-1/2 to 2 hours. When the ribs are done, the
meat will have shrunk back from the ends of the bones by about 1/4
inch.
Just before serving, brush the ribs on all sides with the Shanghai
Barbecue Sauce and move them directly over the fire. Grill until the
sauce is sizzling, 1 to 3 minutes per side. Watch carefully so the
sugars in the barbecue sauce don't burn. Transfer to a large platter
or cutting board and let rest for a few minutes. Serve with the
remaining barbecue sauce on the side.
He pushed her body against the backdoor of the car, her legs
spreading, welcoming him between them in the dark as her skirt pushed
up her thighs, her left leg hooked around his hips. The smell of
grease filled the garage as his fingertips pulled across her bared
thighs. His lips caressed her smile, as she opened wide to accept his
invading tongue as it slid warm and muscular between her lips, licking
at the roof of her mouth as she sucked on it gently, her panties
already damp and feeling constraining about her sex.
Both of his hands rubbed up her body as his hips pressed hard enough
between her spread legs to support her against the body of the car,
her feet locked tight around his ass as both his hands pushed her
shoulders back and her lips away from his kiss before he ripped open
her blouse, exposing her barely covered bre#%!s to the air, pushing
down her bra and leaning in, his lips wrapping tight around her right
nipple, swirling his tongue around it.
Smiling, he closed his teeth around the hard nub of the nipple and
flicked it as fast as he could up and down with his quick tongue
sending electric shivers through her body, her hips forcing themselves
harder against the hard bulge in his jeans. Her fingers pushed through
his hair as she gripped his head and held him close, encouraging every
movement of his lips and tongue. Every single muscle in her body went
taught and ready to go at the grinding of that hard shaft against her
motor, and his fingers knew just how to stroke her.
Delicately, her fingers reached down below his working lips and
between her legs, undoing the restraints covering him, letting out the
bare flesh that she craved against her body as her mouth opened and
moans filled the air, mingling with the smell of sweat and used oil as
she accidentally knocked a wrench to the floor off the top of the car
behind her when she threw her head back.
Nothing was better than a mechanic inside of her... they just always
seemed to know how to rev her engine...
Can you find it in yourself to forget any reason you ever might have
thought of to stop yourself from letting your head roll back, and
exposing yourself for me, like a gift, a simple surrender. Helpless as
my touch gropes at your hips and belly, pushing your shirt up your
body till you feel my fingers, strong and determined wrapping around
your breast, the curve of your tit, and giving it a firm squeeze,
handling it like it is my own personal plaything. Can you forget any
reason not to arch your back and give them both to me, to take and
show you how well I treat my toys?
Can you forgive yourself for being compromised if it was all me?
Pushing myself upon you, taking you helpless to the carpeted floor as
my fingertips trace your breast, its smooth curves, its soft surface,
always getting so close to teasing your hardening nipple, but never
quite flicking across its sensitive tip. My attentions maddeningly
making you want more, but stubbornly denying it as your breathing
quickens underneath my tall body holding you to the ground, my lips
moving slowly, steadily, with a mind of their own up and down your
neck, making it difficult for you to think with the hot moist massage
of my steamed and ever heavier breath on your neck, behind your ear,
on your skin behind your hair as it falls out of place.
No one in the world would find blame in you for spreading your legs
for me at the moment my fingers finally flick just barely across the
tips of your exposed nipples, to let me have what I want, to save
yourself from the force I would have to use if you tried to stop me.
When you're mugged, you give your wallet, when you're here, under me,
you give yourself. It only makes sense to spread your legs, your knees
raising up, your skirt falling down till it is spread out and rumpled
around your hips at the moment that you feel that hard bulge again,
pressing against your underwear, pressing into it, grinding, hard
enough that you can feel how thick it is, as the lips under your
dampening fabric spread out, you feel it between them, the barrier of
our clothes like hateful wall, preventing you from feeling the heat of
naked flesh. If it isn't your fault, you might as well be satisfied by
it, after all.
You might as well use your fingers to undo the clasp on my slacks..
and pull your underwear aside when I thrust down, letting you feel the
round slippery head of my flesh, dripping with thick fluid all the way
down the length of your spread lips, stroking commandingly along your
exposed pink center. You might as well thrust your hips up when you
feel it, round, wet, in charge, pressing just barely over where it
fits inside, pressing just barely a quarter of an inch, sinking inside
of you too slow. Is there any reason not to pound your hips forward
and let out a little scream, here, in the elevator, where no one can
hear whether it's a cry for help or for more, a scream of pleasure at
the feeling of that whole length thrusting deep inside of you as My
lips finally touch yours, wrapping around your lower lip, tugging on
it with my teeth, my right hand tracing circles around the curve of
your ass, bumping over the scrunched up line that tugs to let the
center of your underwear pull aside and let me in, and back down again
before I pull my hand back and swat it right on you, just as I am
grinding inside of you, the pain of the hard smack feeling like pure
ecstasy as it mingles in your body with the heated pleasure shooting
up your spine, till you can't tell which is which.
Is there any reason left why you shouldn't buck your hips hard enough
to roll me down underneath you when I'm not moving fast enough for
you. Is there any reason left in the world that you shouldn't buck and
grind and rip at my throbbing probing flesh inside of you till your
whole body is battered with the spasms of overwhelming o%g#@!s, your
whole body cumming with the beat of your wild hips against my willful
control over you....
I hope you can let yourself imagine that...
It never even occurred to her that she'd looked away from the movie
screen entirely. Both eyes were closed, anyway. His lips made full use
of her fully exposed neck, available completely for the attention of
his lips as she felt his fingertips slide under her shirt, and then
the quick pop of the button on her jeans slipping free. This wasn't
why she was here, she didn't really want this. She didn't have to stop
him just yet, it wasn't as bad as it could be. She hadn't kissed him
yet, there wasn't even anything that she would have to tell her
boyfriend. Those fingers just knew what they were doing too well to
stop them when all they were doing was lightly rubbing her belly.
Just a few more minutes and she would go and get a drink, and that
would be that. Solutions were never any simpler, she thought as she
turned her back to his chest, spreading her legs as his fingers began
to trace the edge of her underwear.
"Thank you," Simon replied very simply, smiling. His heart was in his
work, and he felt it was visible how much care he placed in it. Few
people ever said much to him about it, though. Simon didn't really
expect them to, they frequently had so much else on their minds. He
wasn't sure whether she knew that it was his work her compliment had
gone to.
He didn't know her name, either, but she was pretty. Her hair did that
thing where the sun glittered off of it around the edges and made it
look like it was giving off light on its own. She sat down next to him
at the edge of the pond. It was Simon's favorite spot. Not because of
how pretty the pond looked, or the view, though they were both quite
excellent. It was really the sound of the babbling of the tiny
fountains churning the water that he liked.
It was the only noise he ever heard inside of the walls of the
Lakeside Cemetery aside from the guests. It's not that there was
anything un-natural about the quiet inside the gates, or that Simon
was supernatural. He just liked a little bit of noise in the
background, something soothing.
After a moment, he turned to her and asked, "Are you here visiting
someone close?"
She nodded gently, saying, "My father."
"Were you close?"
She looked out, eyes drifting across the mild hilly landscape, filled
with trees and lattice covered trails and so many tombstones, even a
few small mausoleums. His question wen unanswered for an uncomfortably
long moment, and Simon found himself becoming quite aware of the
feeling of the sunlight on his back, hot even with the cool weather.
"No," she finally answered. "No, I wasn't really close to him. I don't
even really know why I'm here today. I just felt sad, and... well... I
don't know."
Wind blew through the grounds, a quick cool breeze that disturbed
Simon's hair. He understood. Not in any way that he could spell out or
express what she meant, but he understood. This place was beautiful,
and sometimes words just could not express why. He looked out to the
right, at the top of the nearest hill, where the sculpture of and
angel peered out, standing guard over the eternal resting places of
the permanent inhabitants of these walls.
"There's healing in this place. I've found it here."
PURE SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and
puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care
of all of the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.
BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes
them and put them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared
for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the
government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as
much milk and eggs as the regulations say you need.
FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you
to take care of them and sells you the milk.
PURE COMMUNISM: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take
care of them, and you all share the milk.
RUSSIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. You have to take care of
them, but the government takes all the milk.
CAMBODIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes both
of them and shoots you.
DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.
PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.
REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors pick
someone to tell you who gets the milk.
BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulates
what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you
not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and
pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms
accounting for the missing cows.
PURE ANARCHY: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a
fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.
LIBERTARIAN/ANARCHO-CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one
and buy a bull.
SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to
take harmonica lessons.
(Original source unknown . . . this version expanded and Illuminated by SJ.)
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
Grabbing her hands and twisting her body, the young man thrust again
against the wall, rubbing her body against it as his bulging pants
ground hard against the rising hem of the skirt above her pert round
ass. It was time to make that ass pay the checks it was writing. He
bit down on her shoulder, her skin glistening with moisture already
from the heat of the summer day, the heat that would not go out of his
head, the heat that clouded his mind, the heat that was just one more
straw on the mound of mounting stress that made him too furious to
control himself.
She moaned, her body taken, her legs spreading. Every buck of his hips
against her ass thrusting and rubbing her whole body between the wall
and his chest. Oh how she moaned, moaned out a hushed and whispered
plea, "...no... no... please no..."
His hand moved before he even thought about what he was doing. It
struck across her bared ass with a violent clap of palm and fingers
across vulnerable skin, leaving it tingling, and slightly off color in
the center of her cheek. She let out a moaning cry, thrusting her ass
against his hand before the second strike fell. Was she still
encouraging him? Her further cries from each strike silencing her
pleading lips.
His fingers grabbed and arched and finally the spanking slowed as he
tore at her underwear, his fingers pushing forward and rubbing deep
along the lips of her c%n# from behind as his palm reached down her
bare and deeply shaded ass. They probed, and prodded, feeling damp as
he stroked through the thin fabric of the garment, before tearing it
aside and stroking bare flesh. Faint curses barely even whispered
escaped her lips when his fingers began to work inside of her,
whispers lost entirely amidst the moans the feelings she was unable to
control as they made her body succumb to his teasing.
Without even a thought, his pants were undone, and his hard throbbing
shaft was buried to his balls in her tight flesh, his right hand
wrapped around her body. Her shirt was ripped open to her middle, her
breast exposed, her bra displaced as her nipples displayed openly, as
much as the wetness leaking between her thighs, her needs, and
betrayed the false nature of her struggles. Her arms twisted, her body
squirmed, all a show of resistance, each action only grinding her
body, as every inch of it had seemed to become a sensual erogenous
zone, rubbed against her aggressor.
He filled her up, violating her. It was quick, and violent. Both
bodies sweat from the exertion as he forced her again and again, mixed
fluids dripping down her thighs. They grew sticky with sweat and seed
clinging together whenever their sides touched.
When he had done with her, he pulled back, dripping, his pants about
his ankles and threw her to the bed in anger, his c%!* still raging
hard from the heat of the moments. She lay there, her clothes ripped,
every hidden bit of her flesh exposed, sweaty, and covered in the
secretions of their sins.
Her lips parted, and she moaned, "I've been waiting for you to get the
balls to do that for weeks..."
Those words drizzled through the air like oil as they massaged their
way into his ears, her form twisting as he stood, towering over her as
she lay spent on the bed, her fingers reaching upward... wrapping
around his c%!*.. and followed shortly by her briefly still unsullied
lips...
"Harlem" by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
American-Burger.jpg
Source: The Barbecue Bible by Steven Raichlen (Workman, 2008)
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 6
For the burgers:
2-1/4 pounds ground beef (preferably ground chuck)
6 slices (each 1/2-inch thick) Vidalia or other sweet onion (optional)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, or 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 hamburger buns
For the toppings– any or all:
Iceberg lettuce leaves
Sliced ripe tomatoes
Sliced dill pickles or sweet pickles
Cooked bacon (2 slices per burger)
Ketchup, Mustard, and Mayonnaise
Divide the meat into six equal portions. Lightly wet your hands with
cold water, then form each portion of meat into a round patty about 4
inches across.
Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high.
When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate.
If using onion slices, brush them on both sides with melted butter and
season with salt and pepper. Place the onion on the hot grate and
grill until nicely browned, about 4 minutes per side, then transfer to
a plate.
Brush one side of the meat patties lightly with melted butter and
season with salt and pepper. Arrange the burgers, buttered side down,
on the hot grate and grill until the bottoms are nicely browned, 4 to
5 minutes. Brush the tops lightly with some of the melted butter and
season them with salt and pepper. Using a spatula, turn the burgers
and grill until they are browned and cooked to taste, 4 to 5 minutes
longer for medium. Meanwhile, brush the cut sides of the buns with the
remaining melted butter and toast them, cut sides down, on the grill
during the last 2 minutes the burgers cook.
Set out the toppings. Put the burgers and onion slices on buns and serve.
WASABI GOAT CHEESE LAMB-BURGER
Source: Recipe courtesy of Steven Raichlen
Method: Direct grilling
Serves: 6
2-1/2 pounds ground lamb
1 3-inch log of goat cheese, chilled
Coarse salt (kosher or sea) and freshly ground black pepper
6 pita breads
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Wasabi Cream for serving (recipe follows)
Lightly wet your hands with cold water and divide the ground lamb into
12 equal portions. Form each into a round patty about 1/2 inch thick.
Cut the goat cheese into six equal rounds.
Place a round of goat cheese on a lamb patty; top with another patty
and seal the edges.
Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high.
When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate. Brush one side of
the lamb patties lightly with olive oil and season with salt and
pepper. Arrange the burgers, oiled side down, on the hot grate and
grill until the bottoms are nicely browned, 4 to 5 minutes. Brush the
tops lightly with olive oil and season them with salt and pepper.
Using a spatula, turn the burgers and grill until they are browned and
cooked to taste, 4 to 5 minutes longer for medium. Meanwhile, brush
the pita breads with the remaining olive oil and toast them on the
grill during the last 2 minutes the burgers cook.
Split or slice the pita breads to accommodate the burgers. Serve with
Wasabi Cream.
Wasabi Cream
Makes about 1 cup
1 to 2 tablespoons wasabi powder, or more to taste
1 tablespoon lemon juice (or more as needed)
1 cup mayonnaise (Hellmann's preferred)
Combine the wasabi powder and lemon juice and mix until a smooth paste
is formed. Let sit for 5 minutes for the flavors to develop. Add the
mayonnaise and whisk to combine. Refrigerate until serving time.
