TASTE

It’s Robbie Burns Day

Speaking of which, I spontaneously gave one of the characters in my current work in progress a love of haggis as a plot device. As a means of bringing a chapter to an end.

The general idea I was going with was to have both my main characters conclude the first phase of their quest by landing on an island that was near-paradise for one of them but the other was eager to flee as soon as humanly possible. The locale I ended up devising for this purpose is called ₪BRANSONVISTA (a name I formed by combining the names of two second-rate things, which I might change in later drafts), an island famous in-universe for its live bluegrass performances that almost always end in violence, and for the local culinary specialty: haggis balls on a stick. A favourite of one of my heroes. Who just happens to be the guy in charge of navigation. It was the haggis that lured him to this island. The other guy is more turned off by the violence than the haggis.

Said violence is not exactly like this, but vaguely similar.

The Green Grass of SILVER BROWN

That Shit I Ate For Breakfast

Chocolate blueberry pancakes started out as just a concept that came to me one morning during a wake n’ bake. One I translated into a tangible product the following Sunday. (If you can dream it, you can do it?) The first batch turned out like this…


They were pretty good. The chocolate taste was detectable yet subtle. But some crazy part of me wanted more chocolate. So the next weekend I added an extra teaspoon of cocoa to the pancake cauldron, and a few handfuls of these things…

If Count Chocula had a nasty case of the runs, it would probably look like this.
The maiden pancake in its early embryonic stage. I’m aware of how scatologically suggestive this picture is, so there’s no need to point it out to me.
The finished product. It should be pointed out that accidentally making the pancakes extravagantly huge is one of the associated risks of doing this while high.

It was immediately apparent after the first couple of bites that there’s only so much chocolate one can put in pancake batter before the resultant product tastes more like a certain dessert than actual pancakes. I thought to myself: Gadzooks, am I eating chocolate cake for breakfast? Have I turned into one of those people?! The blueberries kicked in around Bite Number Three, instantly bringing my gastronomical chi back into balance and salvaging the whole experience from my nightmares. They didn’t overpower the chocolate flavour, opting instead to lurk in the background. Occasionally reminding me of what I was actually eating.

If the blueberry goodness was a character in this taste bud theatre, it’d be something like a benevolent version of Michael Myers.

These were actually way better-tasting as leftovers. Something about refrigerating them overnight restored the innate flapjackitude lost during the cooking process. Pancakes from the first bite, albeit weird-ass ones from another dimension. A dimension my stomach was pretty convinced was evil…


The next Sunday I nixed the cocoa entirely and only put in a small handful of chocolate chips. One of the pancakes from that batch looked at me funny…


The Journey of SILVER BROWN

Meditate on This, I Will

More of the summer will be spent on conceptualizing than on writing, methinks. The upcoming season will be ideal for that. I do my best thinking when I’m somewhere near a beach…