When I first saw the title of your blog I thought it said “pistachiophobic”
Well that would also be a good blog header for me seeing as I'm allergic to pistachios.
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Tree nuts
Have you ever thought about how, much like humans, trees use their nuts to reproduce?
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I'm standing here in the grocery store but I'm too excited to wait:
I just called Hostess re: one of their holiday cakes and Factory 2100 IS NOW FREE OF PEANUTS AND TREE NUTS! That's their main factory!! So 2100, 2300, and 2400 are all safe now for peanut and tree nut* allergies!!
(Note: always call and confirm these things yourself, but I had to share the good news!)
*Okay, 2100 still has coconut, which some allergists consider a tree nut. But my severely allergic kid's allergist has said he's okay with coconut cross-contamination.
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Codex Alimentarius published a report on threshold levels for non-priority allergens
Codex Alimentarius recently published another useful report on the review of scientific data to establish threshold levels for non-priority allergens (not considered in the previous reports), namely:
– specific tree nuts (Brazil nut, macadamia/Queensland nut, pine nut)– soy– celery– lupin– mustard– buckwheat– oats
For any inquiry, please contact me or Bert Popping at Food Orbit…
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Italian-Style Broccoli Rabe
Broccoli rabe is marinated in a fragrant garlic, anchovy, and olive oil paste, sauteed in a skillet, and served with toasted pine nuts in this wonderful Italian side dish.
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Italian-Style Broccoli Rabe Recipe
This delicious Italian side dish features sauteed broccoli rabe that has been marinated in a flavorful garlic, anchovy, and olive oil paste.
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Grandma's Zucchini Bread
Ingredients:
3 eggs
2 cups sugar
1 cup oil
2 cups raw zucchini, grated
2 cups flour
1/4 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
3 tsp cinnamon
1 cup chopped nuts
1 tsp (scant) salt
2 tsp vanilla
Directions:
Beat eggs, add sugar, oil, and zucchini. Add dry ingredients and mix (until just combined cuz this is basically like muffin mix). Add vanilla and nuts to mix. Pour into two greased and floured loaf pans. Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for one hour.
(Note that I'm not 100% sure the 1h time is correct from what I transcribed since she baked with a very, very old set of ovens. Modern ovens and convection bake will likely speed this up rapidly. Follow the toothpick test and think of this like banana bread or other quickbreads.)
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I have to remind myself that my characters don't have to be tortured or dramatic to be interesting.
My first DND character was a balding, paunchy, post-middle-aged human man whose wife had just left him and whose kids had grown up and moved away.
He quit his menial job and decided to take up music, something he'd never been very good at that didn't pay the bills, and become a bard.
He was bad at it. Really, really bad. His instrument was shit and he'd never had any formal lessons. On top of that, he was pretty tone-deaf.
BUT. He could play very, very bad noises very, very loud.
On our first campaign, he was cornered by a sea dragon and had no weapons, but by making a loud, horrible noise, he was able to startle it badly enough to lose grasp of the boat.
After that, he used it to herd a small crowd of goblins into a trap by sounding far bigger and more numerous a foe.
He never got much better, but he did grow his confidence, and won the affection and respect of his companions, who grew to support him in ways nobody else had before.
I had to stop playing him for a while after that, but last I had him, he was developing an interest in color and flare and fashion that he'd never paid much attention to before.
He didn't lose weight, or grow his hair back, or magically become younger, but he felt brighter, lighter, like he had a new lease on life, like he had something to offer and maybe he deserved to have a bit of fun, now and then, with good company.
He began to wonder if that was what he was missing, before. If perhaps that was why his marriage had wasted away. A lack of drive, of hope, of pride and passion.
I don't know where he would have gone on from there. I don't know if I wanted him to reconnect with his kids, or his ex wife, or his home town. Part of me likes the idea of finding his own way- settling and becoming good friends with his ex, something platonic but warm and fond, and reaching out to his kids and being there for his grandkids and someday passing away bright and loud and loved of old age, asleep in his bed, to be celebrated after by the loudest funeral with the worst music played by the most awful musicians his community had to offer, loud and proud and full of good humor.
Maybe they'd throw a festival, after that. An annual one, with firecrackers and trumpets and clanging pots and pans to scare away the monsters like he did, the roaring hero who came into his own a little later than usual, but wondrously all the same.
A symbol to show that you don't have to bend and squish and contort yourself to fit the space you're in- you can find another space, one that's just your size, and exist there exactly as you are
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