I’m still not over space lettuce, and now Modern Farmer just showed up to the astral agriculture party with some thoughts on how to fertilize potatoes on Mars.
The science of a cook’s best friend, the Maillard reaction, plus how it variously affects different foods such as bread, steak, and butter.
It’s similar to Snake, but the things you can “eat” are fruits that reveal their attributes as you eat more of them. So, for example, perhaps the first time you eat a lime, it makes you grow one segment; the second time you eat a lime, it simultaneously causes you to grow a segment and temporarily changes the game speed, so next time you see a lime you have to decide if growing a segment is worth the speed change plus whatever surprise third attribute will reveal itself. At first, this reminded me a little bit of the alchemy skill in Elder Scrolls games; every ingredient has four possible effects, but you only experience one or two effects at a lower level. So you have to make calculations as you raise your alchemy skill: at a higher level you can access previously hidden effects such as invisibility, but you may also unlock some harmful effects in ingredients you’ve been using to make health potions.
But in Serpentes, the effects are randomly distributed among fruits each time you play, so you can bring no assumptions as to what kind of effects a lime is likely to have. You have to learn afresh and perhaps (as the reviewer does) invent new mneumonics to remember. “This is homebrew neuroscience at its best, like the game is shining a dim light into the normally invisible machinery of my brain, ” he writes; “It’s a wonderful and slightly scary thing to observe the low-level engineering of your own mind.”
I appreciated the timing of yesterday’s comic, since I just wrapped up a dis chapter that references Michael Pollan’s food rules. Besides, if you hover over the original, the text is Halloween-appropriate.
I was going to include an animated .gif of this cake but honestly I can’t, I’m sure it’s very creative and skillful but cakes should simply not be so animated, the result is a terrifying nightmare cake.
This 1869 recipe for making an apple toddy may be of interest to my fellow northeasterners who keep a bottle of Laird’s applejack on the liquor shelf. Besides: “This drink ought never to be made with a suspicion of weakness. It is only drank in cold weather, and needs to be a little strong to be satisfactory to the epicurean.”
Let no one hold any suspicions of weakness of the drinks in my house, certainly.
Finally, as those of you already infected have guessed from the title: this food culture blog is now a Hamilton fan blog. Click-boom!
No one really knows how the game is played
the art of the trade, how the sausage gets made.
We just assume that it happens. . . .
but no one else is in the room where it happens.