Pet Peeve. Only One of...Many...

I went online this evening to find a good recipe for short ribs.  I have a freezer full of beef that I need to "download", so to speak, and so I decided to hit the internet instead of my collection of cookbooks to find an interesting recipe.

I cook - a lot.  And I love to cook.  I'm fairly knowledgeable about nutrition, cooking, cuisine, whatnot.  I am not a food snob, nor would I like to be called a "Foodie". 

I cook, we eat.  I think we eat well.

OK: my pet peeve.  It's an internet sensation to post a recipe, first by giving a brief  (or maybe not-so-brief0 sobriquet of a recipe, and then proceed to (HERE COMES MY PET PEEVE!!) a photo journal of how to make the stupid dish.  These insipid articles, written by - I don't know - gourmet wannabes? - first show us the oil in the pan.  And the next giant photo to download shows the diced onions in the oil in the pan.  We see a photo of pancetta or bacon or a bag of potatoes or dried squid.  And then there is a photo of liquid, being poured into the pan. and it goes on and on.  I can scroll down for hours it seems, and then: voila!  The recipe, in text. 

TEXT.  Thank you very much.  I just want the recipe.  Nothing more. 

And more interesting stuff from rural Kansas: that Spouse o' Mine and I went to the Manhattan Arts Center play yesterday: Harvey.  It was very enjoyable.  In fact, that Spouse o' Mine said it was more entertaining than a movie.  (In part, I think, because we were only a few feet away from the stage, and also because he liked the fact that they served Harvey Wallbangers at intermission.)

Tonight that Spouse o' Mine has a "Strategic Planning" meeting at church.  I am not sure what that entails.  Is Christianity like a chess match?  I always like church service to be a quiet service of prayer and contemplation, and some really good choir & organ music. Should I have to think about strategically-aligning myself anywhere in the sanctuary?  Ok, maybe in the fellowship hall.  If the coffee is good. 

 

Old Dog dislikes new tricks, I suppose.

 

I am, of course, fifty-four.