poke poke poke

Off To A Delicious Start

The Midgardians with whom I live believe that whatever one does on the first day of a New Year is what one will continue to do for the rest of the year.  They are taking no chances on going hungry in 2018, so we have all gone out for lunch.

The weather is gray and very wintry, so something warm would be welcome.  This place is known for its wood-fired pizzas, salads, sandwiches, and soups.

Sigyn has other ideas.


If you are very good, my love, you may have a treat afterwards.  We need to get you some proper food first.

Great Frigga’s Corset!  Sigyn, if you begin the year by needing to be rescued — in this case, from the menu rack — what does that bode for the rest of the year?

BlueBaker-menu holder

Come, we can play with these crayons while we wait for our food to be ready.  They have both our favorite colors.  Plus orange.


Ooooh!  Look at this!  Piping hot Southwestern green chile cheese soup!  Just the thing for a frigid winter day.  And see how clever!  The very bowl is made of bread.  You can eat the dishes!  (I would not recommend that with other sorts of dinnerware; you would probably not like the results.)

(poke, poke, poke) The crust is very good, but the best bit’s the soft part in the middle.

BlueBaker-soup aftermath1

Evidently the human female thinks so, too.  She has managed to eat mostly just the inside.  Behold the sourdough wasteland.

BlueBaker-soup aftermath

I think I will fill up my pockets with crumbs, take them home, introduce them to the human female’s bed, and get her New Year off to a scratchy, itchy start.

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All of this larking about in the “downy feather-flakes from the woolly welkin” has made us all cold and hungry–and disinclined to cook.  We have, therefore, taken ourselves off to a local eatery.

The human female has selected a Rubik’s Sandwich.  I presume that means that it comes all nicely sorted out and the eater’s task is to disassemble and reassemble it  as quickly as can be.

I believe this dish is meant to have past rami in it, which is a dark pink sort of meat.  I guess that stuff is aged.  This meat is light pink, so it must be newer—i.e., I give you present rami.  


Who knows what future rami looks like.

(poke, poke, poke)  There is also melted cheese, of which I approve.  The final layer is some sort of old, sour cabbage…stuff.


Eeeeww!   She’s eating it!  Or, rather inhaling it.  The human male does not like this cabbagey stuff, so she is getting  it while the getting is good.  The human male is suitably appalled.

But because I cannot allow a joy of hers to remain unalloyed with disappointment, I have caused the sandwich-maker to interpret “very easy on the mustard” to mean “slather that stuff on with a bricklayer’s trowel.”  The human female is now busy scraping it off.

Sigyn, ever the dainty one, is pleased with this healthy side of steamed vegetables.  The human female had her choice of these or chips or fruit and is disgustingly smug.


Ehehehehe!  The joke’s on her, though, because I saw to it that the kitchen staff gave her the piece of broccoli with all the dirt left on.


Builds character.

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They’re Celebrating…Something, Part II: Stuffing Ourselves With Stuffed Things

It’s time to cook all the little stuffies the humans brought home from the market.

Poor, sad, cold little bao.  A nice hot sauna will fix you right up!

bao in steamer

It’s a double-decker sauna, so there will be room for the shoe thingies as well.

shumai in steamer

I hope they’re prettier when they’re cooked, because that raw-looking, fishy-pink filling is sort of grossing me out.

The little pot-sticker dumplings are having a hot bath of their own.  Careful, Sigyn, that pan is likely quite hot!

potstickers cooking

The lumpy cylinders are in the oven and will have to be turned halfway through their cooking time.

All done!  I fiddled with the sauna, so the goodies in there took much longer than anticipated, but everything is finally ready.

The bao might be a little overdone…


… but their innards are still tasty!  Mmm.   Porky bits.

(poke, poke, poke.) I STILL don’t trust these things.

poke shumai

The little dumplings and the Lumpy rolls came out all right, though, so we will not starve!

Let’s open the package of tiny moon cakes. The humans bought these because they were TOO CHEAP to buy one of the fancy gift boxes of cakes from the display  near the checkout.

Hmm.  Like the red and green color scheme, but somehow I don’t think this is a seasoning or icing packet…


Think the humans will eat it if I tell them that it is?

Let’s try one of the purple cakes.


Nom nom nom.   The first ingredient is sugar, isn’t it?  How many little adzuki beans gave up their tiny lives to make this sweet?  They might have died in vain, because there isn’t really any beany flavor.

(poke, poke, poke)


This is truly a  most inscrutable comestible!  I have poked it.  I have tasted it. I have read the list of ingredients thrice over—and I still  have no idea what flavor this is supposed to be!

Mmmm, yellow.

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Great Frigga’s Corset! She’s Actually Doing Work! Part I: The Task At Hand

Uh, oh.  The human female’s Tech II is out of town, right before labs start for the semester, when the team is already one person down.  That leaves the human female in charge of the two Tech I’s.  IN CHARGE.

Those words should terrify you.

So, on top of dealing with vendors who can vend but not ship, trying to ride herd on all the teaching assistants, and trying to push through the hiring of a new Tech II, the human female has become, essentially, another Tech II.  Who on Midgard thought THAT was a good idea?!

All the members of Prep Staff have their tasks to do.  The human female got stuck with her share of the scutt-work.  I have no intention of getting my hands dirty and helping her, but Sigyn and I have come to see what it is that actually has her in a lab coat, goggles, and gloves.   (I thought she couldn’t get any more hideous, but those goggles make her look like a demented insect.)

Ugh.  Sigyn, look at this mess!


Two whole counters of the main Prep room is taken up by jars of preserved plants, fungi, and algae.  Hundreds and hundreds of jars.  What are they doing out of their basement cabinets?

Oh, I see.  Heimdall’s helmet, these look bad.


I think these are the specimens that need topping-up with preserving fluid.  And it looks like that fluid can eat right through metal lids.   (poke, poke, poke)  Yes, indeed!  Rust!  So she’s got to open all these rusted-shut jars, top off the fluid, find them new caps, and then lug them all back down to the basement.  This is going to be a perfect storm of unpleasant—stuck, smelly, leaky, toxic, tedious, and heavy.

I could do it all with a wave of Gungnir, here, but I decline to assist.  This will build character.

But Oooo!  Looks like she might expand her lexicon of  profanity in the process…


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I’m Not Going To Try It. YOU Try It!

The human female has gone to some sort of fancy reception on campus.  Someone retired or got an award or was executed or something.  I don’t particularly care.  I do care that she brought back some goodies from the reception.  She has left this rectangular comestible in plain view.


Sigyn is excited.  I’m…  Let’s say I’m giving it the good old Jotun side-eye.  

(poke, poke, poke)  On the one hand, it might be some sort of sweet shortcrust pastry full of luscious cheesecake and topped with lovely pastel pink chocolate curls.

On the other hand, it could just as easily be pizza crust, full of yummy mashed potatoes and topped with little bits of savory ham…

Or cardboard, full of caulk and topped with rolled up snippets of band-aid.

It’s outsourced campus food services so, really, the odds are about even…

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The human female went to have lunch with one of her friends (Yes, she has them.  Yes, I am as surprised as you are.)  The friend works for one of the departments that falls under the College of Agriculture, and female came back with a little giftie.


(poke, poke, poke)  I don’t know about this, Sigyn…  It looks all ripe and yellow, but it has a decidedly weird texture.  I do not think it would make a good roasting ear, nor do I think we should attempt to put it in the microwave to make popcorn.

Wait!  Stop!  Get back there, you!  Where did you come from and what do you think you’re doing?!


Ah.  That explains the weird texture.  It’s not sweet corn—it’s feed corn.

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Serves You Right

So you humans are gearing up for the annual July Gaming Weekend.  That means that you, human female, are doing some baking, so that there will be goodies for guests.  Over the weekend it was a double batch of oatmeal-raisin cookies and a batch-and-a-half of gingerbread.  You wondered whose rotten idea it was that a bottle of molasses is just shy of what’s needed to make a batch-and-a-half.

I think we all know the answer to that one.

Today it is BACON ROLLS, those delectable spirals of bacon, cheddar, and thymey goodness.  They look scrumptious and smell divine.


BUT!  if you are just going to shove them in the freezer and not let ME have any while they are warm and fragrant, you can bet your miserable life that that super-hot bacon pan is going to find your stingy little hand.


Poke, poke, poke.  Does that hurt?   Yes?  GOOD!

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