Now I’ve Got That Awful Squeeze Song In My Head

I haven’t had much time for posting lately, so it’s fitting that this meal took very few minutes to make. Just like this post!

Mussels: fresh, shiny, and clamped tightly shut like good Christian vaginas before marriage, and yet expertly debearded, suggesting a lascivious desire to be prised open and eaten. Fresh-picked gardeny goodness, in the form of garlic scapes, snap peas, baby carrots, arugula, and a fat handful of herbs. A dollop of smoked pork fat from the pulled pork I made lewd jokes about on Twitter but did not document for the blog because sometimes living a real, unmediated life is more important than its vicarious virtual simulacra. Some whey, and fish sauce. A good baguette, toasted and torn into chunks for dipping and mopping the blessed elixir that results from such torrid alchemy. A bottle of Provençal rosé. Decadence is its own reward.

4 comments to Now I’ve Got That Awful Squeeze Song In My Head

Yours Truly



I'm a painter who happens to also spend a lot of time growing, making, and writing about food. I'm particularly interested in the intersection of frugal peasant cooking techniques and haute improvisation. And I have a really great personality.

Rage Against The Vitrine

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