Pianissimo

Xylophobe - a person who can't stand tinkly piano music...

The Choir Of Antarctica by I Love Doodle (who has a fabulous website, and sells his prints on Etsy) 

Much less common is the bagwuss, who runs and hides at the first sound of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo and has a penchant for wearing pink stripy tops...

Bagwusses - sorry, bagpusses - by geese on Flickr a sea of pink and white stripy feline humbugs! These ones look considerably less jowly and rotund than the original, though...

Between the Other Penguin and me, we cover both bases. Whether it's Alicia Keys, ballroom music or The Whitlams, I do enjoy a piano (where he tends to prefer guitars and synthesisers, and I haven't yet encountered a bloke who enjoys The Whitlams). But busking bagpipers will send me bolting down the road with fingers in my ears quicker than nails down a blackboard...

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Why “Up” When You Can “Re”?

There are some words that I just don’t understand the point of. These tend to be synonyms for words that just don’t seem need to have an alternative... the first one that got my goat was purchased. What’s wrong with bought? There are plenty of variations on how to come by something other than in the transactional sense, but when you hear somebody say that the “went to the shops on the weekend to purchase a new TV”, it just seems a terribly precious sort of phrasing*. Although they may very well think that’s also true of people who waffle and use far more punctuation than required.

There are others, too – the current pet one is upcycled. This seems to be the new and fashionable word for something that used to be called recycled. And, presumably, is different to plain old re-used. I guess there’s a bit of a point, in that recycled suggests a different sort of subsequent use to the original use, whereas re-used just implies repeated use of something in the same way. So then, upcycling would involve using it not only differently, but better. Or maybe just making it better. Perhaps these things just need a lot of turning over and shaking in order to make sense...

It happened, though - I was converted to upcycling (the practice, if not yet the word). And it happened with this...

NYC record clock by Pavel Sidorenko

Turning an old record into a clock isn't wildly unexpected just by itself (the recycling bit), but cutting a city skyline (and not just any city, but New York City) around the edge is just brilliance (the upcycling bit - it really does improve on the original article). And it made the leap from things that look cool online to things that look cool and you want to have in your house in real life.

I'm not sure if this cake stand will make the same leap, but for a crafty-minded soul with a stash of old and questionable LPs, it's a thought. It could be the perfect way to serve some recycled cookie cake, though...

Record cake stand from The Bothered Owl

All this analysis was prompted** by food (quelle surprise!)... particularly this food...

Recycled cookie cake from Fig Jam & Lime Cordial 

Things to do with leftover cookies – break them into little pieces and drown them in chocolate. It’s like the baked goods version of rocky road. Rocky biscuit, perhaps? This looks like a great idea, especially for those of us prone to making far more baking than can possibly be eaten before it starts to get a little bit crunchy round the edges (for squishy things), sticky in the middle (for crunchy things) or otherwise not quite as good as it ought to be, but still eminently suitable for being coated in chocolate.

It’s not at all that I’m averse to there being innumerable different ways to describe things. So many things (the world, my life, food reviews/blogs and, possibly most significantly, fiction) would be unutterably the worse for a lack of synonyms, adjectives and other-ways-to-say-stuff. But I’m not sure I can even begin to find the words to describe the wonders of new ways to use chocolate...

* Heaven help me with the toilet / lavatory and the napkin / serviette debate debacle – articulateness may well (but certainly not always) be an indicator of intelligence, but choice of words really shouldn’t be an indicator of class. Well, if I’m wishing for that, I’ll go the whole hog and wish there weren’t any “classes” to be distinguished between in the first place. Sorry to come over all bolshie and colonial all of a sudden...
** Wow! A reason for unnecessary analysis... that doesn’t normally happen...

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Not Your Regular Guacamole

Devil's advocacy is a grossly underrated (and often underappreciated) skill*. I even loved the movie. And I've never been the world's biggest fan of avocado. But that didn't stop me laughing out loud when I found this poster...

Devil's avocado poster from Funky Gibbo on Etsy

* Although I'm not sure whether it's so much as skill as perhaps an innate tendency, especially for a bolshie penguin.

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Everything Is Always About Cheese*

Sometimes I wonder if I just don’t pay enough attention (because who pays attention to the radio, really?). And sometimes I’m sure that however hard I concentrate, I’d still be convinced I’d heard what I thought I heard (shades of Tweety Bird here – I taut I taw a puddy tat!).

Tweety Bird cake from Fantasticakes on Flickr - the detail is just brilliant!

Mondegreens can occur at the slightest provocation (in this case in a taxi with a pile of Christmas shopping – perhaps all those bags blocked my ears?). A song came on the radio, and I was certain, almost positive, even, that the lyrics related to cheese sticks. And, much as I never have food very far from mind, I didn’t think that was terribly plausible. Or that I was hungry enough to be imagining it.

The joys of the interwebs led me, via the ARIA chart, to this:

Like A G6 by Far East Movement

Which leads to the other source of mondegreens – your mind inserting random possible lyrics because the actual words are stuff it hasn’t heard of. Which makes me feel pretty ancient. Or at least like I don’t run round drinking until I fall over anymore (see ‘pretty ancient’, just before)**.

Perhaps I should just have a cup of tea, a cheese stick and a nice lie down...

Cheese sticks from Mein Kleiner Kuriositatenladen



* Even if you don’t think it is. Even if you don’t understand how or why. Everything. And the Pioneer Woman's panko cheese sticks in particular...

** {insert ‘granny voice’} I remember back in my day, songs had some real romance to them. None of this going about getting tipsy business. We used to listen to proper music like {insert artists of choice, such as James Brown, Led Zeppelin, Madonna, etc, etc}

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I’m So Tired Of Waking Up Tired

Reluctrance – a glazed state brought on by a lack of desire to focus on something, especially something productive

When you have to go back to work after days of pootling round in bare feet and a carefree (and dishevelled) manner, snacking vaguely when the urge takes you, making spontaneous plans and taking long walks and, of course, doing lots of baking for anybody who stands still long enough to be offered a brownie...

When it feels like the end of a very abbreviated summer holiday and a slide into (eep!) reality is imminent... no, make that is here...

There’s only one thing for it. Especially if you want to get up on time...

Picture from The Fox And The Polar Bear on Flickr

Yep, you need a completely bonkers racoon with a loud alarm clock and a total disregard for sleeping polar bears penguins.

Wake up and welcome to 2011!

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Sniggling – When Words Aren’t Stationary

Sniggling – expression of mirth combining sniggers and giggles, much in the manner of Muttley from Wacky Races. Sniggling is frequently encountered when the source of mirth is in some way inappropriate

Sometimes you have those moments of wondering how on earth you got by for so incredibly long without knowing about something. Salted caramel for instance. Or TiVo. Or how easy it is to make your own pizza dough. And sometimes that something’s not a thing, but a word.

Smiggle (not to be confused with sniggle sells brightly coloured stationery – it’s not as sophisticated as Kikki K, or as quirky as Typo, but it’s cute and colourful, and perhaps for more suited to a younger market. But all those times I walked part (or into) Smiggle at a shopping centre... I never thought of sniglets.

Pictures: box, bookends and light all from Smiggle

Sniglets, I’ve only just discovered, are words that should exist but don’t. All this time, I’ve been having them without knowing what they were. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!

But if you’re going to have a word for something that should exist but doesn’t, there’s a lot of pressure on that very word itself to be perfect. A shining light of a word that doesn’t exist, the holy grail for all those little sniglets to aspire to grow up into. And the trouble with sniglets is that the word’s actually so good that it suits so many other uses...
- Sniffling piglets
- Sneaky little people – like sproglets, but a bit more Machiavellian (your average two year old, then)
- Ends of sausages – like giblets, but far, far tastier and less squeamish
- Putting your singlet on back to front – this is definitely my favourite (meaning that is. When it actually happens, it’s just a nuisance)
- And, of course, the furtive laughter mentioned at the beginning

The other problem with sniglets is that they’re just a bit too much like Twiglets. Thinking up new non-existent words works up quite an appetite already – thinking about Twiglets only makes that worse!

Picture: via the Cornell Sun (which just doesn't get Twiglets)... for the other side of the argument, there's A Whole Lot Of Crunch...

So, what do you think a sniglet should be?

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A Confederacy Of Dunces*

These sunny-looking, innocent flowers look so pretty, but they carry an awkward burden...

Picture: Flore Del Sol on Etsy

They are called craspedia. It’s not hard to see why they have a variety of nicknames as well (billy buttons, billy balls, woollyheads).

Craspedia... a compendium of faux pas**

There’s been quite a few ideas lately of words that should exist, or of things that need words to exist for them, but this might be the first one I can remember of words that do exist, but really ought to belong to something else.

* The title of this post (and, very probably, this line of thinking) was prompted by Sarah Wilson, who came up with “A Municipal Council of Dunces” on the wonderfully distracting Twitter about “lesser books”.
** For some reasons, probably because I know it’s wrong, but find it entertaining, faux pas always feels like it should be said as “fox pass”. And repeat offences as “fox passes”. A bit like “horses’ doovers”.

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Chance Of Light Kittens

Forecats... the perspicacious ability of felines to anticipate when it’s going to rain, when to get out of a sticky situation, and who doesn’t like them*.

Picture: Tag Team Tomkins on Etsy

I just love this illustration by Tag Team Tomkins... they have all sorts of interesting quotes and things, which run more to irreverent than to cute – always a good thing. I like the idea of having a row of them framed above the bookcases in our spare bedroom. To make it feel a little less like a cross between a library and a walk-in wardrobe...

Pictures: all from Tag Team Tomkins on Etsy

They're a little bit of a cautionary tale, and a little bit of an incitement to mischief - perfect!

* Which, if you’re a cat, requires paying vast amounts of attention to these people, in an effort to convert them. Cats, it appears, don’t cut their losses...

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That Sinking Feeling

Disconcerto – music that gives you a distinctly unsettled feeling...

Picture: Jaws movie poster via MoviePoster.com

Perhaps these are the solution?

Earmuffs: via La Vie Jaime (last year's Monsoon)

Although, given the current warm stickiness pervading Sydney, I suspect those are more indicative of my hankering after recently-departed colder climes. Penguin by name, penguin by nature.

Which prompts a confession, and maybe a small apology, for six weeks of scheduled posts - I've just returned from gallumphing far and wide on a thoroughly enjoyable, thoroughly gluttonous honeymoon. And so will try to tend to my poor semi-abandoned blog a little more regularly in person! The confession / apology is thus accompanied by a warning about the glut(tony) of eating-while-abroad posts about to be unleashed...

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Gangway!

Overcompenseating – what happens after way too much self-control. Don’t stand between me and a carbohydrate unless you want to be flattened in the stampede...

The usual redeeming nutritional feature of a burger (if a burger has any need of redeeming features, and much of the time, they don’t) is their carnivorousness. But this one combines two good things without even going near carnivorousness. No redeeming features, then, and yet so very appealing...

Picture: Palachinka

And, while pizza bianca isn’t anything new to me, the idea of mashed potato on a pizza definitely is...

Picture: Another One Bits The Crust

But somehow, I’m just not entirely convinced. It’s a little like when kids at school had tinned spaghetti in their sandwiches!

After puzzling after this for a little while, I’ve concluded that maybe a difference between a meal and a snack is that a meal often benefits from elements other than solely heaps of starchy tastiness (like some of that carnivorousness, perhaps, or at the very least, some cheese), whereas a snack can be enjoyable (sometimes all the more so) for being more narrowly focused. Having committed this idea out loud, of course, I’m sure there’ll be a deluge of diverse snacks, and of stodge-heavy meals, leaping (lethargically) out at me for weeks to come. It’s safer on the fence... but it's never as much fun!

Picture: Demakersvan via Design Fetish (it has its own website, too!)

PS: Thanks to Pioneer Woman for prompting this thought with this post; not sure those fences'd stop a leaping Basset hound, though! 

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The Kitchen Keeper

Custardian – the keeper of all secrets (and portions) of crème brulee, trifle, clafoutis, crème caramel, crème patissiere and good old plain regular custard. AKA the trifle-eating cat’s mum!

Trifle: the trifle-eating cat's mum; picture: me

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Roast Dinner For One

Inconguroast* – things that you just don’t quite expect to see turn up in a “baked dinner”.

Picture: Pot roast quail with a creamy chanterelle sauce from My Glorious Food

Pot roast quail? First, get a really small pot...

It makes me think of the condiment thimbles at the Donna Hay General Store. I do wonder what those are for (other than looking neat, if that’s not a good enough reason by itself). They look like they should contain some sort of paté or potted meat sort of thing, but paté requires much more generous servings. Perhaps they could be to steam petit four sized Christmas puddings? Or for coddled quail eggs (keeping with the theme of the day)?

Any ideas about their actual purpose would be greatly appreciated!

* Strictly speaking, there probably shouldn’t be a ‘u’ in the middle. But it seems to help in the pronunciation and getting the intention across... and one of they joys of making up words is being able to break the rules!

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Being Remiss In The Morning

Negligeence – forgetting to take pyjamas with you when staying at somebody else’s house. A variation of this exists in relation to opening the door to room service breakfast while wearing a towel (even a large towel...).

Picture: Black and White of Unreality

Or, if you really get caught short...

Picture: Sarah Klassen

Can forgetting pjyamas now be used as justification for retail gluttony (to procure large and elaborate hat-boxes, and similar concealments)? Hmmm... best not to go there...

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Eyeing Pies

Mystipie – the confusion experienced when you no longer know what is a pie and what is something else...

Two (other) things confuse me about pies (and pie-like items), although these are only the beginning of all sorts of other food-related ponderings that have been cropping up lately...

Firstly, galettes – I’d always thought of these as a French buckwheat crepe with a filling in, but there seems to be a variety of galette which is a rustic type of tart. They look delicious (and rustic baking is always a personal favourite!) but have me a little concerned that, when venturing to Paris, I may be ordering an entirely unintended galette. A little like the risk of ordering sweetbreads instead of veal risotto, perhaps*, but with far less squeamish consequences.

Picture: Fig, prosciutto and thyme galettes from Citrus & Candy (top of the list of galettes to try, this one... looks so tasty!)

Picture: Peach, blueberry and lemon thyme galettes from Tartelette

The other curious pie item I’ve recently come across is hand pies. Are they so called because they’re made by hand? Or the size that fits conveniently in your hand? Or because they don’t sit in a pie dish? Is it, perhaps, a little of columns A, B and C? And how is a hand pie different to a pasty? It seems to be a much subtler distinction than, say, between a raven and a writing desk...

Picture: Apple and hatch green chile hand pies from Bless Her Heart

Picture: Prosciutto and cheese hand pies from Not So Humble Pie

On a tenuously related note, all this thinking about pies gives me an excuse to share what I think is a very cool (in a geek chic way) necklace...

Pi necklace: RGB Laboratory (I like that the numbering starts at the back, so from the front it just looks like a random sequence of numbers...)

* Beware the ris de veau...

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Disco Kitchen

Mirabelles, I have lately discovered, are a variety of plum. They are not to be confused with mirror balls. Which are completely different (well, not completely – both are round....). And sparkly. And things that're different and sparkly can surely only be a very good thing indeed...

Both, however, can be good (albeit equally different) when applied to baking. The mirabelles are a little more suited to rustic-but-tasty baking. Although Tartelette's rustic qualities are so perfect as to make the dodgily rustic among us hang our heads and get back in our boxes*. And I love that the picture makes it look like a - non-sparkly - mirror ball!

Picture: Mirabelle Plums and Almond Frangipane Tart by Tartelette

The mirror balls, on the other hand, perhaps need rather a more specific reason than just being in season and feeling like tarts, pies, galettes, upside down cakes and other tasty plum-related baked items. And much greater precision around the kitchen. But the results can be very striking...

Pictures: JPAvocat on Flickr and Food Network

* Hanging your head and getting back in your box, when undertaken simultaneously, tend to result in bumping the head as well. Harrumph!

Today's post also has some extra bonus foolishness... it was the first post I wrote in Open Office, and I discovered, to my great entertainment, that it had predictive word completion. And, before it drove me bonkers and I turned it off, I thought I'd see what it might produce if allowed to run rampant over the mirabelles. So, here's the even-less-sensible version...

Mirabelles, I have lately disappointed, are a variations of plum-related. Themselves are notoriously to be conceivable with mirror balls. Which are combination difference (wellington, notoriously combination – bothersome are round...). And sparkly. And this-and-that thankfully're difference and sparkly can surprising only be a very gooseberries this-and-that indecisive...

Bothersome, however, can be gooseberries (albeit equivalent difference) wheat-free apparently to baking. Themselves mirabelles are a literalism more suited to rustic-but-tasty baking. Alternative Tartelette's rustic-but quantities are so perambulating as to make themselves dodgily rustic-but among us hang our heads and get back in our boxes*.  And I love thankfully themselves picture makes it look like-it-or-lump-it a – non-political-sparkly – mirror ball!

Themselves mirror balls, on themselves other-ways-to-say-stuff hand, perambulating need a rather more specific reasonable thankfully justifiable being in season and feel-like-you’re-back-in-school-and-experience-counts-for-nothing like tarts, pies, gallivanting, upside down cakes and other-ways-to-say-stuff tasty-meets-formal-but-firmly-on-the-tasty-side plum-related baked items. And much greater pre-employment around themselves kitchen. Butterflies themselves resemblance can be very strawberry...

* Hanging your head and getting back in your box, wheat-free underpants similarities, tend to resemblance in bumping the head as wellington. Harrumphed!

Slight disclaimer: It should perhaps be pointed out that Open Office appears to be influenced in its selection of words by what's already included in a particular document, meaning that a document containing lots of blogging daftness produces... even crazier blogging daftness. But I might go for just a little less self-indulgence tomorrow!

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Evacuate Now!

What should we call the person given to mad panicking and leaping about? Note: Blue Penguin, while accurate, is not what I had in mind... It’d be useful to have some sort of identifier. They’re probably pretty self-evident already, but in writing, can be a little harder to spot.

Emergencee – the person who has identified; created or is having the crisis; the source of all panic

Picture: Little Clouds on Etsy 

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Fries With That?

Burgger! – the weak expletive uttered on realising you’ve accidentally bitten off a bit more that you should’ve at the takeaway shop. Large chips, anybody?

Picture: "Burger Eclipse" by David Schwen from Threadless

There should be limits to how many bad puns can be obtained from one source (less than one, some people might sensibly argue...), but I can't help thinking this picture should be called Total Eclipse of the Heart (Attack).

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Wishing For Butterflies

Moth-watering – those biscuits that looked so promising in the shop but turned out to be sadly disappointing. Currently gathering dust in the cupboard, where they’re only likely to be eaten if it’s by pantry moths. They should be thrown out immediately – life’s too short to eat bad baking (or drink bad wine), and nobody wants to encourage the pantry moths...

I couldn’t resist posting these pictures of the Butterfly Room at Singapore House in Adelaide, recently discovered via Apartment Therapy and Brown Button (love discovering (semi) local things from a US interiors website!)

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Total Ellipse

There are some people who, if they can’t gesticulate, are unable to speak (or, at least, have their coherence seriously reduced). This has been tested through highly scientific and unbiased experiments like getting people to sit on their hands while talking, and watching them squirm (because, of course, it’s the inability to wave said hands about that must be causing the squirming, rather than the amused observation... nothing like being put on the spot.

However, there are also those of us with a more insidious affliction... the inability to talk in writing* without abundant (some might say excessive) use of parentheses, asterisks**, italics, and Capital Letters. But the one that has been sneaking up on me lately is the ellipsis... so useful when trying to continue a train of thought that you aren’t entirely certain belongs together. So handy when seeking to leave an idea open without being so direct as to ask a question...

It has started to occur to me that perhaps it might behove me to try sitting on my punctuation (rather than my hands) for a little while. Not sure I actually will, but it provided food for thought...

I do like this punctuation mark, though...

Picture: Keys And Memories on Etsy

An interrobang. It is, apparently, a combination of a question mark and an exclamation mark. So much more interesting than just using both.

These might be more appropriate for me, though. The only problem would be that I’d want to turn them round so they matched. Perhaps a backwards semi-colon could have some other sort of meaning

Picture: Nerd Goddess on Etsy

* Because in a lot of ways, blogging and emails and so on are talking written down; writing reports for (real) work doesn’t seem to produce the same effect.
** So that we can make extra notes at the end, and limit use of parentheses just a little.

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Internalising Things

Those random, inexplicable cravings for highly specific food can strike at any time. The strength of the craving seems to have a direct relationship with the degree of difficulty to obtain the particular food. It’s inconvenient, puts you off whatever you had planned or available to eat, and generally bothersome. Why on earth does this happen?

It can happen on a full or an empty stomach. It doesn't have anything to do with pregnancy. Or vast amounts of time spent pootling around the foodblogosphere (that just makes you hungry far more broadly...). Capricious desires for awkward things to eat are something that have been around since I was a mere scrap of a penguin. There’s only one possible explanation...

It’s the tummy wombles.

Picture: Alison's Cakes

Everybody knows that tummy wombles give you the tummy rumbles.

Never mind those penguins in packing cases – the tummy wombles are the ones making all the hullabulloo...

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