Mochas are the worst

Yesterday, my first whole day back in Montreal without packing-related stress in weeks, and full of jetlag and mucous, I dared to venture out for errands and thought I'd treat myself to a spiced hot chocolate. I've been sick on and off for over three weeks, and also travelling for about the same amount of time, first a fun friend vacation, then for work. I can't taste much of anything and thought it would be nice to coddle myself into some sort of warm wellness.

But instead of a chocolat Bogota the barista made me a mocha.

At first I wasn't sure what what wrong. I didn't have a sip, after all, until I was halfway home. This was going to be an accompaniment to curling up peacefully with a new library book before my love came home from work. My nose was plugged, but still, I was tasting more bitterness than I expected... and where was the cinnamon? Surely I would at least taste the cinnamon... 

Was this a cruel trick of my cold? Condemned to misinterpret deliciousness as funk? Or did they get it wrong, after a long wait, after the lady after me got her coffee before me. Oh, the disappointment, the first world injustice of it all!

Husband tasted and confirmed my suspicion, and even went back up to the café for me to see if they could make the right thing, but they had just shut down the machines for the day. They recalled the error and sent him back to me with conciliatory baked goods, which I had for breakfast.

So now here I am with three-quarters of a cold mocha I stashed in the fridge last night, not wanting evening caffeine nor for it to go to waste. It is not good, friends. Not good.

I used to think mochas were magical. Mom always had a little rectangular box of International Delights Swiss Mocha powder in the cupboard and it smelled like heaven. Sometimes I would get a sip, and a sticky residue of oversweetened froth on my little lips. Sometimes the empty box would come my way and I would use it to store treasures while sniffing the marshmallowy lid and dreaming of a day when I could have as much mocha as I wanted.

But real world, grown-up coffee shop mochas turned out to be a sad disappointment. I tried for a while, always expecting the sweet creamy treat it should be, always falling flat from overroasted beans or underdosed chocolate. Truly, it is the worst of all worlds, not chocolaty enough to be chocolate, not bright enough to be coffee - just creamily flat and bitter, a cruel tease and an affront to everything that's good about either.

Have a coffee or have a hot chocolate, but at a certain point you have to quit expecting magic out of a mocha.

Junk food vs. bone marrow

Unfortunately, this is not about a delicious taste-off between chips and roasted beef bones.

Preliminary research indicates that junk food changes the microbiome and causes bone marrow inflammation.

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/next/body/junk-food-can-alter-your-immune-system/

Just another reason to choose real food at every possible opportunity and feed our friendly bacteria friends as well as we can.

That said, though, I ate homemade oatmeal cookies for breakfast and just barely resisted buying Halloween-themed white cheddar Cheetos at the grocery store yesterday. They were in the shape of different bones, and you could put them together to make little skeletons! Those clever food marketers... who doesn't want to have cheesy DIY skeletons? They are scientifically designed to be delicious! Peter Pham at Foodbeast found them salty, though I would have to try and see for myself.

We prepared a box of snack veg for the week instead. Joy, rapture. I should really not be so glum about our vegetables. They are tasty and fresh, Phil did the knifework, and the celery is a real taste delight with PB & a nice fleur de sel (flaky sea salt). This is one from near where I lived and taught in France. I like the crunch it adds, and its burst of salty flavor. Almost makes up for my snack not being skeleton-shaped.

Knitting Nettles

Did you know that you can harvest nettles and spin their fiber?

In my volunteer work at the Château Ramezay, I teach visitors about the fibers that would have been used by habitants, European settlers in New France. Wool is big, of course, and so is linen (from flax).

Yesterday I discovered that nettles can be processed similarly to flax! Check out this video from YouTuber Michael Taylor, be astounded and inspired, and then save it under "post-apocalyptic survival skills."

Any country-dwellers up for giving this a try?