landmark 650th post!

A few random items.

It's been a while since I posted anything about food or cooking. Last night was pizza night here, which can mean some combination of things. Last night I made my famous notorious gorgonzola béchamel sauce and schmeared one pizza with that, adding fresh mozzarella, parmigiano reggiano, scallions, kalamata olives, and crimini mushrooms (which I always pronounce like a euphemism for "Christ" that some folks enjoy, notably my Dad). I also made what I would love to call pizza sauvage or something equally pretentious, which is just dough with a coating of olive oil and sprinkled sea salt with toppings (the salt is, in this case, Hawaiian red salt, dried and cured in clay pots, old school, because, as has been mentioned in this space from time to time, I am a foodie snob in possession of 8 different salts and 5 peppers at any given moment, and let he among ye who isn't some kind of junkie cast the first paraphernalia). The naked pizza had diced tomatoes, criminis, fresh mozza, etc. etc., and spinach on it. It was one of the best pizzas I've ever made, in my estimation.

In my mind, the pizza orgy was to celebrate being 99 44/100% done grading for the semester. Lawdy, do I hate grading. But there it is. I have one paper, for one orphaned student for whom I am volunteering my work to be a project adviser, to go.

I already have received one complaint about grades, and it's a valid one, I think. Most grade complaints are, in my experience. I'm not perfect. I don't even add well.

Before I stop wasting everyone's time with this useless post, I'll pause to mention two things:

(1) That I'm planning a series of Year In Review posts, and

(2) I'm off to play a guitar lesson for an elaborated fingerstyle version of "Oh Come Oh Come Emmanuel."

...

And also that I dreamed all night of weird goings-on on our campus (though topographically, architecturally, and geographically transformed) involving former students suddenly getting married; festivals suddenly ending in ways that prohibited my access to my Loveliest, my old Japanese-built Takamine classical, and my car (regarding which, proceed with caution, Dan or Jackson, whoever in my dream world is driving Eddie Jetta); a rude security guard; and creepy people from the university doing creepy things (who shall remain nameless).