Jon

Last night, dinner was Twice-Baked Samosa-Stuffed Potatoes. This was a mixture of our normal baked potato recipe and the samosa recipe from The Moosewood Cookbook.

First, we took two large potatoes and baked them. We used Idaho Russets (not what we normally use, but perfect for this) and baked them for about an hour at 450 degrees. I run a metal skewer through each potato, so that it cooks faster, and rub the skin with a bunch of salt after washing them.

When the potatoes were nearly done, We took one small yellow onion, and chopped it finely. We also minced about one tablespoon fresh ginger and two cloves garlic. Then we sauteed these about ten minutes in one and a half tablespoons butter with one teaspoon mustard seeds, one teaspoon ground coriander, one-half teaspoon turmeric, and one and a half teaspoons salt. Get the butter nice and hot before adding the other ingredients.

When the potatoes came out, we split them in half and scooped them out, leaving enough on the outside to maintain structural integrity of the potato skins. We took the insides of the potatoes, and mixed them with the sauteed onion-spice mixture, one-half teaspoon cayenne pepper, and two tablespoons lemon juice. In fact, we used the immersion blender to puree them together until smooth.

Then we took one and a half cups frozen peas, and stirred these into the mixture gently. We took the potato-onion-pea mixture and refilled the potatoes, putting them on a baking sheet using aluminum foil to hold them upright. We sprinkled these with paprika, and baked for ten more minutes at 350 degrees before turning on the broiler for a couple of minutes. If you do this, make sure that you stop as soon as the potatoes start browning on top!

If I was doing it again, I'd probably sprinkle on a little extra paprika after taking them out of the oven: the turmeric stains the potatoes a beautiful yellow, the peas are a brilliant green, and the deep red of the fresh paprika would be very appealing, visually.

Very tasty, filling, and healthy!

So I've been remiss in announcing the holiday have-people-over gathering. Laura was mostly handling it.

Anyway, if you're in Seattle, and you're mobile in the weather (or in Ballard), and you'd like to come over, cocktails start at 3 and dinner sometime between 5 and 6.

If you don't know where our new place is, e-mail me or call. And if you don't know how to do either of those things, comment here.

Tonight for dinner, Laura and I took four smallish eggplants from the farmer's market, peeled them, and sliced them about an inch thick. This was about four cups of eggplant. We misted a baking sheet with olive oil, put the eggplant on the baking sheet, sprinkled with salt and pepper, misted with olive oil again, and put the sheet in a 400 degree oven.

We took about 1 3/4 pounds Roma tomatoes from the farmer's market, cored them and cut them in half, and placed them skin-side-up in a baking dish which we'd sprayed with olive oil. We peeled about eight or ten cloves garlic and put them in the baking dish. We misted the tomatoes with more olive oil, sprinkled salt and pepper on them, too, and put them in the same oven.

While the tomatoes and eggplant cooked, we chopped about a third of a cup of basil that we got at the farmer' s market, too. (I also made a "smashed cucumbers with ginger" dish that's challenging but rewarding to eat.)

After about fifty minutes, the eggplant was fork-tender, and we pulled it out of the oven along with the tomatoes. We pulled the skin off of the tomatoes, mashed them up in the roasting pan a little bit, and put them under the broiler (on high) for about ten minutes.

Meanwhile, we heated about a teaspoon of olive oil in a medium saucepan and cut the eggplant into cubes, and got water boiling for the pasta.

When the tomatoes came out of the oven, we put them in the saucepan with the basil and the eggplant and cooked them on medium heat for about twenty minutes, mashing them with the spoon every once in a while.

Eventually, we threw the pasta in the boiling water, cooked it, and drained it, reserving some liquid to thin the very thick eggplant-garlic-tomato-basil sauce. We added the liquid and a pinch of salt, mixed it together, and served with parmesan on top.

It was spectacularly delicious, hearty and creamy and satisfying. It wasn't difficult or expensive, and it was almost all local. (Everything except the olive oil, salt, pepper, parmesan, and garlic were local. This week my favorite garlic, from Jones Creek Farm, has returned to the market, so next week that will be local, too.)

We do have a few ideas to improve it. I think we'll cook up some bacon, then saute mushrooms and onions in the pan with the bacon, and dump the tomatoes eggplant and basil in there instead of using olive oil. Finally, we'll probably squeeze some fresh lemon juice in the sauce at the end, too. That will add top and bottom notes flavor-wise that this was missing. (The flavors were all middle, but a big fat delicious middle.)

Two more quart jars of brandied cherries are in the fridge. This time, it's Skeena cherries not Vans, and they're delicious, even if the kitchen makes me a bit sympathetic for Lady Macbeth. Sadly, I don't think I can justify more fridge room for spiced brandied cherries, and I suspect that Laura's patience with cherry season is wearing a bit thin.

I made a batch of tomato sauce, too, as Alvarez Farms had good-looking plum tomatoes. I'm usually too lazy to do it, but I decided not to worry about peeling or seeding the tomatoes. It manages to taste wonderful anyway, and I'm freezing half of it for later.

Dinner was salmon roasted in butter with basil, and sugar snap peas sauteed with butter and olive oil. Simple, but tasty.

For brunch today, Laura and I went to Smith. I didn't mind the decor (lots of animals on the wall, and lots of fairly terrible paintings) except that it was trying to be ironic, and I'm not much for aesthetic irony. Unfortunately, the food was very good so I'm likely to find myself back there occasionally.

On the subject of irony, it occurred to me that there was a difference between literary and aesthetic irony, and that I liked the former much more than the latter. This may be why I think Mad Men is overrated.

Hopefully this week at work will be less stressful than last week, during which one major customer had a series of blowups that should now be resolved. I had to stay late at work on Tuesday instead of leaving early to volunteer, as I usually do on Tuesdays, and had a number of twelve-hour days. Oof.

Cooking plans for the week include steak salad, something involving a whole chicken to be served alongside sauteed zucchini, pasta with the aforementioned tomato sauce, and pepperoni pizza. We've been making pizza pretty much every week since I discovered that even I could make decent pizza dough almost instantaneously in the food processor (thank you Mark Bittman!), and that one batch of dough is two pizzas, as is one batch of sauce.

I'm going to need to make some chicken stock this week, to get the chicken backs and necks out of the freezer. I'm concerned as to whether we have enough containers for freezing stock, but I'm sure I'll figure it out.

Finally, around two in the morning on Friday, I got home. Friday I slept in, and yesterday I even overslept in. Today I dialed it back and hopefully I'll be able to get up on time, or near on time, for work tomorrow.

It's good to be home.

It's also a good week to be shopping at the farmer's markets in Seattle, especially if you like cherries. At the U District Farmer's market yesterday, I saw sour cherries, and said aha! Now there's sour cherry soup cooling in the fridge, for dessert or maybe a light dinner. Yesterday, we also bought Rainier and Van cherries, about two pounds total, almost all of which I munched on while watching movies. There's about a half-pound of Rainiers left that I'm hoping to not eat until at least later tonight. Today, I bought more Van cherries, since they were so sweet, and made spiced brandied cherries, which are currently in the fridge. Sadly, I'll have to wait two days to eat them. I'm not quite sure how I'll manage.

Did lots of other prep cooking this weekend: cleared out scraps from the freezer and made several quarts of veggie stock; made mayonnaise; made zingy cucumber salad (with red onion, rice vinegar, bell pepper, and red pepper flakes). Basically got in a good position for eating well this week.

What else? Not much. Travel for work was tough, but I managed. (Nine days! Five states!) em_yrt was in town for a conference, so ironheadjane and I went out to dinner with her Friday. I'm not quite ready to go back to work, but I know there's more than enough to do... I'm dreading it more than a little, not because I don't want to be there, I just don't want to have to catch up.

I didn't write about the one dive that ironheadjane and I took last Sunday, at Redondo. Twenty-five minutes or so underwater, and I really felt that I'm getting back in the groove regarding buoyancy control and general underwater comfort. So tomorrow's not a bad time to start pushing my boundaries: it's the first dive of our Advanced class, a night dive at Redondo.

Unlike my previous night dive in Bonaire, I'll have a really decent light, and I've dived the site before. That should help, a lot. My previous night dive was a bit confusing, and a little stressful, but very exciting: everything underwater looks different at night. I can hardly stand to wait another twenty-four hours.

I also didn't write about Easter dinner: neutrinoj and zetreehugger came over for lamb (which I braised in red wine using the crock pot while Laura and I dove), gravy, and roast veggies (which zetreehugger made). We played a round of some card/word game whose name I forget, which was entertaining. It was nice and low-key, and tasty, too. Monday I took much of the lamb leftovers and made lamb jalfreze again, which was yummy.

It's been a crappy week for food since then, for the most part: I've been training on the Eastside for work (ITIL v3 Foundation certification), which has meant junk food at lunch (burritos, McDonald's, pizza) and exhaustion at dinner (plus a non-dive Scuba class last night too). Right now, though, I've got ham in the oven, greens on the stove, and I'm prepping for ham-and-bean soup for tomorrow night before diving.

Tonight I'll have to put my dive bag together, so that we can eat, grab bags, and go tomorrow. I can't wait.

Finally, today would have been Michael Jackson's 66th birthday. Raise a glass to the Beer Hunter, if you don't mind, in honor of his memory.

I wish I was feeling better. Dinner tonight was spectacularly good.

We had ham and bean soup, made with alder-smoked ham from Sea Breeze Farm, my favorite local purveyor of pork, duck eggs, chicken liver pate, and more, and with cranberry beans from Stoney Plains Organic Farm. I finished it up with water, carrots, onions, celery, salt, pepper, and lemon thyme, and it was spectacularly good.

Preparation was simple: cut the ham and veggies up, toss them and the beans in the crockpot with the salt, pepper, and thyme, and cover with water, then simmer all day long. Not bad for 15 minutes of prep work last night and fewer than five minutes this morning. Extremely filling, and I'd estimate the cost at about $2.50 or $2.75 a bowl, because it made about eleven servings. (The ham isn't cheap, nor the beans, but they're the best-tasting I can buy -- I can't say enough good things about Sea Breeze Farm's bacon or ham!) The only trick I missed was that I'd forgotten to put in a bay leaf or three, which I'd intended to do. Still, it was quite nearly perfect.

On the side, we had mustard greens I'd cooked on Sunday night for just this occasion. Two big bunches (about eight cups chopped, raw), one slice of the half-pound of ham for the soup, a couple of dried red peppers, half a head of garlic, salt, pepper, white vinegar, and some veggie stock I'd made from scraps. The stock isn't as useful as I'd like, because I was ignorant and had a bunch of carrot greens in there, which made it rather astringent (though not really bitter), but that perfectly complimented the greens, which were sharp and smokey and quite good.

Laura, a good Kentucky girl, gave the meal her seal of approval -- not bad for a northern boy improvising without a net.

Last night I'd cooked a leg of lamb, also from Sea Breeze farms. I'd de-fatted it the night before, and yesterday morning I rubbed it with salt and pepper, and tossed it into the crock pot with a head's worth of garlic cloves, a medium onion, sliced, and about a bottle of red wine. (I'd meant to put the thyme in that, but I forgot.) At the end of the day, I took it out, dried it off, and browned it nicely, then reduced the wine in that pan to make a gravy, adding two tablespoons of butter.

For veggies, we had carrots and parsnips braised in home-made chicken stock, cooked with salt and pepper, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Laura tossed in a tablespoon or two of apple juice, which made it lovely and pie-like, and at the end I tossed in another tablespoon of butter to turn the leftover stock and spices into a lovely glaze. Except for the apple juice, the carrots and parsnips are my mother's recipe.

Later that night, I snacked on some beets I pickled on Sunday according to Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything, which I do several times a winter. The beets (Chiogga Beets), as well as the carrots and Parsnips, were from Nash's Organic Produce.

The lamb was pricey, but excellent. And we're getting eight to twelve person-meals out of it, about six portions of lamb with veggies on the side, plus probably four portions of Lamb jhal fraizi I'll be making tomorrow with a portion of the lamb I set aside last night when alloquating the leftovers.

Way back on Sunday night, I made pasta puttanesca, which is always different, since I make it by ear and it depends on what I've got on hand. This time, we were a little light on the olives, and I wanted to tone the garlic down from the usual, so I used some extra anchovy paste. Laura approved of that as well.

Thursday, the plan is to make a hot soba soup, making the dashi myself (mmmm... bonito flakes!). I might toss a raw egg in my portion and let that cook, depending on how I feel about it. I'll have beets on the side, most definitely.

Friday's going to be leftovers. Saturday probably leftovers too, if I haven't eaten 'em all by then. (I also have two hamburgers in the fridge still, from Saturday, which I'll be focusing on at lunchtime tomorrow and the next day.) Sunday, maybe, I'll use the pork butt I got at the market to make lime and chili slow-cooked pork tacos, with red onion escabeche, via Kathy Casey's cookbook. But I don't know yet, since that's something I can do any day of the week (due to the slow cooker), and I'll probably be hitting the farmer's market on Saturday this week.

Mmmm... food!

Turkey, stuffing, and gravy all came out perfectly on Thanksgiving. The crock pot burned the sweet potatoes. We now have a new crock pot, which seems to be better-behaved, though only time will tell.

Last night, we had pork chops sauteed with white wine and apples, and red cabbage braised in white wine. Yummy!

Tonight, turkey soup with vegetables. I put barley, carrots, celery, onion, red and yellow peppers, mushrooms, and herbs in with stock I made today (in the new crockpot, natch) from the turkey carcass. It was delicious! Also, tonight, beet roesti. You can't go wrong with shredded beets fried into pancakes with butter. Mmmm.

Tomorrow night, we'll have the lamb and root vegetable stew that I made today. Lamb in red wine, with carrots, parsnips, potatoes, and dill. I had a bite (to adjust seasonings, of course), and it was mighty tasty.

Yep -- 'tis the season for yummy slow-cooked meals. My dad, 3000 miles away, said he made his first stew of the season today too.

Tonight I:

• washed a bunch of dishes


• made breadcrumbs


• de-fatted and re-strained the chicken stock


• made stuffing for the turkey


• chopped all vegetables for the gravy-making


• made a list of all items to take with me tomorrow to our hosts


• put yams in the crockpot with butter and orange juice

Also, Laura made cranberry relish.

Tomorrow I:

• stuff the turkey, truss it, stick it in the rack and wrap it up well


• bag the giblets for gravy-making


• mash the yams and stick in a container


• pack everything up


• go to our host


• cook a turkey, make gravy, carve a turkey


• enjoy Thanksgiving dinner

Friday, I'll have turkey-and-stuffing sandwiches with leftovers, and make soup from the carcass and the vegetable trimmings from today's chopping. Yum!

A happy and food-production-centered holiday to you and yours!

I've been improvising more in the kitchen lately, taking recipes I'm familiar with, then rearranging them until they're new. I recently made crisp-braised duck with port wine and dried cherry sauce; I made sauteed pork chops with tomatoes and sherry; last night, I baked (poached?) halibut in the oven, in a pan also cooking rice, peppers, onions, and so on, for a very nice one-dish meal.

Tonight, ironheadjane said that she wanted to have pasta with a sauce containing cherry tomatoes and shrimp, something that we had a month or two ago at Tavolata, in Belltown.

I'd been thinking of making red and yellow cherry tomato confit anyway. So I made the tomatoes. Then I took a pound of fresh shrimp from Wholefoods and sauteed them with garlic, butter, and olive oil. Finally, I combined the two dishes, let them simmer a bit, and served on top of pasta.

It wasn't absolutely, totally, unbelievably spectacular. It was merely the regular variety of spectacular. Which isn't bad for a first try.

I have declared victory.

Dinner is in the oven: a zucchini-carrot kugel straight out of The Enchanted Broccoli Forest. We seem to have a pretty good batting average out of that and The Moosewood Cookbook, though as a non-vegetarian neither of them will replace my beloved The Way to Cook Everything.

I should cook more things that require an hour or more in the oven: it'll give me time to get my head back on right and unspool my thoughts.

( Water spirals the wrong way out the sink )

( Words and Music )

I realized it's been too long since I posted here when I realized that everything—photographs, bookmarks, and LJ posts—had scrolled off of my homepage. Oops.

I'm not dead, just working too many hours. Time not working is spent doing laundry, grocery shopping, cooking, and sleeping. But life is good, really; I like everything I'm doing, I just wish I had more time to do other stuff.

Of course, what did I do on today's day off? Laundry. And cooking: ironheadjane and I baked not one but two cakes: a lighter orange-almond cake made with olive oil, and a rich devil's food cake in two layers with orange buttercream frosting between the layers and and orange-chocolate glaze on top. I can't wait to get to tonight's event and taste both of those...

For dinner, herb-marinated grilled pork chops and corn on the cob. Soon, fireworks at veovix's place.

( A funny dream from the other night )

I've done a lousy job of keeping up with movies I've seen in this space, but recently I've seen Prairie Home Companion (it was about what I expected) and Beowulf and Grendel, which I liked a bunch. (You might not give a damn if you don't think "Squee! Vikings!") Like I said, I've mostly been working. Speaking of work, we're hiring tech support people in both Seattle and the Bay Area. If you're smart, you like Unix, and you like Internet protocols, let me know and I'll send you some additional details...

I'd say something like "more to come later," but I can't imagine when.

...was a smashing success. Just what I was going for. I'm thinking that this will be a pretty regular meal.

Finally, this week at work I felt pretty productive straight through. We got a pretty significant customer due in part to technical problems that I helped solve; I've got a feel for the older generation of hardware; and I'm beginning to feel not totally incompetent as regards the software, though there are still huge areas that I don't yet understand.

Unfortunately, I'm showing up at work at seven in the morning, which means waking up at half past five and going to sleep by ten at night. Worse, it's not terribly painful to do so anymore, and I'm worried that I might soon start enjoying it. (I think I'll like it better when it's not the dead of winter any more.)

I cut myself with my fancy new kitchen knife while chopping garlic.

Then again, I also cut myself with my vegetable peeler. (Somehow I knew to leave out the bag with all of the bandages and such in it... how did I know?)

(The knife is strange, by the way: ceramic, thin enough to be translucent. Extremely light, and extremely sharp. It's an incredible cutting instrument, but it feels so toy-like that it's particularly dangerous. The pink color doesn't help with that, either.)

First, you can't have too much garlic. Several tablespoons is good.

Second, you can't have too many olives. More olives, chunkier sauce, not a bad thing at all.

Third, you can have too many hot peppers. One should be fine; three is definitely too many. Not unbearably spicy (for me), but spicier than the sauce should be.

Will try again on Tuesday with all this in mind.

Dinner tonight was pork chops (pan-fried, no big deal, but still tasty) and a little something that couldn't have been more decadent.

Yesterday at the farmer's market, I bought about a pound of lobster mushrooms. I've always wanted to try them, and the guy had them priced at a mere $10/pound, a virtual steal. Lobster mushrooms are in fact a secondary fungus that grows on other mushrooms. On the outside, they're the color of a cooked lobster.

I washed the mushrooms and chopped them into moderate-sized chunks, then sauteed a small onion in butter. I tossed in the mushrooms and some salt, and when the mushrooms were more-or-less cooked, I tossed in two ears' worth of corn I sliced off of the cob. When that was warmed through, I took it off the stove and ate it.

It's delicious. The mushrooms aren't just the color of lobster, but they have a briny seafood taste to them, which goes well with the sweetness of the corn and the onions. I ate about 2/3 of what I cooked, and the only thing that's holding me back from finishing it off is that ironheadjane hasn't tried it yet, being at work and all. I'm not sure she'll like it — it may be too seafoody for her palate — but if not, I'll be happy to finish the rest of it.

Soon I'll be all formally employed again. In the meantime, I'm doing just about everything I need to do before then.

( New York: Movies and Nothingness )

This week, so far I've done a bunch of stuff. Orientation for work; software updates in a million different places—Mac OS X 10.4.2 seems to fix a bunch of the performance problems I've been having, both with the swap and with Camino; writing book reviews I've long owed my editor; submitting fiction and poetry to magazines; and running errands all around town. I finally updated Two Ideas, which I just haven't been up to in a while. I'd like to keep up with it, but what with the new job it's hard to promise.

In addition to that, I took the car in this morning. They haven't even given me an update of the original estimate yet, which I'm guessing means it will be expensive. Still, it has to be done: the driver's door was having problems, which apparently became even more serious after I brought it in.

Laura and I made two Chicago-style pizzas, Monday and Tuesday nights. Both were better than any deep-dish pizza I've had in Seattle, and they were our first attempts. Finally, tonight we took the bus up to the U District and saw Howl's Moving Castle. I enjoyed it, but suspect that the book's ending is far darker than the movie's.

Tomorrow: get the car back, write more, submit more stuff (eight more submissions and I've averaged one every other week for the last eighteen months—far short of what I need to do, but not as terrible as I could be doing), maybe edit road-trip photos.

Now: bedtime, sleep.

Friday night, several of us went to see Batman Begins. My expectations were pretty low, and the film handily exceeded them. I would have cut much of the last half-hour or forty-five minutes — the part with the traditional action-adventure plot — but I don't think other people would necessarily approve of that decision. The background material was excellent, as were the acting and the set design.

Because the best material was in the background, I don't see too much hope for a strong franchise; I could be wrong, and hope that I am.

Saturday night, ironheadjane took me to the Spoon concert. (She'd surprised me with tickets earlier in the week.) Although I love their music, and though I enjoyed the concert, I also found it a little bit frustrating. I think I'd been hoping for something that would be somehow revealing; Spoon's lyrics are frequently oblique, and the heavy production on the album further obscures things. Which isn't to say that it's not an emotional experience, because it is, but only that I don't necessarily know what it means. And I still don't. The show was technically excellent, but I'd hoped for more of a connection with the audience than I felt. This may be because of the venue, where I was fairly near the back and seated at a table, but I'm not sure.

Sunday, there was a more-or-less impromptu barbecue. It was yummy, and the company was even better.

Yesterday, Laura and I went to see Mr. and Mrs. Smith. It felt like the writer and director were trying to do a by-the-book remarriage comedy. However, it seems to me that the primary relationship discussed in the book is between the two married spies and consumer culture at large, particularly the "aspirational" segment of the upper-middle class.

Much of the movie could be described as housing porn. The filmmakers focus much of their attention on the Smiths' kitchen, a room of particular importance to aspirational shoppers, as shown by the success of Williams-Sonoma, Crate and Barrel, Dean & Deluca, and a zillion other places. The expensive refrigerator, range, oven, kitchen island, and knives are shown lovingly.

Other rooms in the house receive less attention, but many of those shots seem to be of architectural details. A critical scene takes place in a giant housewares store, where the camera lovingly gazes at the consumer goods before they're blown to smithereens.

The Smiths both drive Mercedes, and have vast quantities of high-end consumer-culture accouterments. But they're completely out of place in their suburbs: the neighbors are vapid, have children (Mrs. Smith is completely revolted when one of her neighbors asks her to hold an infant), and the conversation is completely inane.

How does the movie resolve the tension between the toys (which they want) and their revulsion at the people who are their neighbors and co-consumers — the Joneses, as it were?

It's simple: Mr. and Mrs. Smith aren't like these people. They're spies. This is their cover. They don't want to enjoy fancy kitchen toys and drive fast cars, but they have to, in order to keep up appearances.

Presumably, the film's audience is supposed to empathize with the film's protagonists, their hatred of the empty-headed neighbors, and the lust for consumer gadgetry. Is the film suggesting that they, too, are undercover? That they can have their cake and eat it too, so long as they're only maintaining an image and planning to, um, change society from the inside, or some other such garbage.

In reality, all of the neighbors also believe that they're the ones undercover, that they're the ones made uncomfortable by stuffy or foolish neighbors, that they're interesting and they belong elsewhere. Normal people frequently feel trapped and suffocated by their possessions, and their need to maintain status with their neighbors. Thus the joy in the scenes where the house is destroyed by gunfire and explosions: the audience is symbolically freed from their possessions.

Last night for dinner, I made oven-roasted pork chops with a pan sauce made of fresh cherries and Guinness. It was extremely tasty.

I've got a first draft of copy editing and suchlike corrections for a project I'm working on. Paid copy editing work; I'm so not used to working on other people's schedules that it was a bit tough to get this done. I'm not sure I'd want to make a career doing copy editing — the money isn't good enough for the amount of labor involved, and I'm just not obsessive-compulsive enough — but I do need the money right now, and it does add to my credentials for other writing and editing projects. A role as a developmental editor or ghost writer would be far more interesting.

( Technical Meep-Meep in re blogging )

( Technical Meep-Meep in re my Powerbook, and Macs in general )

( Candid thoughts about my occasional tendency to publish my candid thoughts )

But now it's time for me to make some kale. After dinner, type up my changes to the copy-editing stuff, go through the chapter once more, and mail it off to the publisher. Then I'm free, until they send me another chapter to work on. Which will probably be tomorrow.

( Eating )

( Writing, Wasting Time, and Employment )