So my sweet surviving cat ate some of her kibble this morning (don't worry - it's not any that was recalled. And I know kibble is bad, but she'll eat it as opposed to all of the other foods except for really really really crap food). She ate her kibble, and she must have eaten just a little too much of it, because she started to gack it up. I heard her. Except this is how much my kitten loves me. She gacked it up in the litterbox. I love her.
And on a not quite so disgusting note, I get to make up my own bread recipe in class using the guidelines for the bread formula and all of the ingredient functions we've been learning over the past week. The seven functions of egg. The five functions of salt. The nine functions of sugar. And yeast, oh, yeast. Our sourdough starter (named Mr. Bubbles in honor of the starter that sacrificed itself to another class's clumsiness) is quite the -er- lovely (yeah, that's it) glob of nastiness. I can't imagine anyone would think, "Hey, lets COOK with this." But then, I also don't understand duck confit. Or chocolate covered ants. But maybe that's just me.
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