A day of consolidation. Joe, a friend at work, had asked last week how to cook black beans. I recited my variation of the takes the Gas out method, same one that I found and posted here later that evening (without even remembering its source, just found by coincidence!). I thought that would be the end of it, but today he brought our team a big jar of black bean dip with a bag of chips, and it was delicious. I had brought in some Red Gold Salsa-Medium, but that was lame compared to his homemade dip. First time he had made it and it was perfect, pasty (pronounced "paste", not "past", unlike a Cornish Pasty) enough to dip, speckled with pearly black beans that pleased the eye. Light enough on the hot stuff so everyone could enjoy (I broke out my shaker of green jalapeno powder for the capheads - can't recommend enough, it's great, just be careful not to accidentally inhale it. Konriko's is another brand, a mixture, also incredible). Joe says he made about 3 quarts of black bean dip for half the cost of a jar of Arriba! and, to further make his point, the presentation was made in an emptied jar from Arriba! (punctuation included, like Lamar!) with the label still intact. It did not open easily and the upper surface of the contents was perfectly flat, so I'm guessing he hot-packed it while the contents were still relatively liquid and the vapor condensation from cooling gave it a modest seal when refigerated.
When I arrived home, my 2 copies of The Ragpicker's Dream by Mark Knopfler had arrived. When I first heard his guitar, it was The Sultans Of Swing on a car radio, back when car radios used to play real music. It was a dramatic announcement that a major artist had arrived on our planet, unmistakable virtuousity. Good to have him around still, not just pass us by like a comet. James Taylor's October Road, and The Flatlanders' Now Again have made this a great year for old fart music, if nothing else. New ideas from old friends. There are two copies of the Knopfler because I bought one for Liz too, who likes his music as much as I do. I'm taking it with me to meet her for a beer right now, y'all come now, y'hear?
It felt like autumn today, gusty and a high of 68. Carolina spends a lot of time flirting with winter before remembering it doesn't freeze in heaven. Well, hardly ever. Another week or two before the balcony plants come in, the ones that survived the drought (they just know there's a drought, even if you water them). A sad fatality, I fear, was my 6 year old poinsettia, which just shriveled and died mysteriously. The new arrival is an amazingly thriving pineapple plant that took root when its bristly top was shoved into the dirt after I'd made roasted pineapple salsa from the Noriega part (tequila instead of lime juice!). Assorted herbs survived , including a catnip plant that will stay outside - standing a better chance in winter than in the company of housecats Twyla and Claudette. Time for a beer.
5:19:54 PM 
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