Posts Tagged With: lutefisk

Join Bacon & Chocolate Party’s Invitational Virtual Riot, August 10.

Bacon & Chocolate Party supporters rarely stage mass riots. We have many differing views and would just cancel each other out. And what’s the point of expending a lot of energy to do that?

However, we do have opinions. It’s just that we don’t like to take rioting too seriously, if indeed we attend a riot at all. Brr! A lot of cranky people out there if you ask me. So what to do?

The answer is simple. The virtual riot. Yes, riot from the comfort of your own home. Why you can even watch reruns of I Love LucyTM while doing so.

Simply attend the FacebookTM event, Bacon & Chocolate Party’s Invitational Virtual Riot (BCPIVR), on August 10. Post pictures and short videos of riots. Funny signs and funny moments from riots are especially desired as we are a fairly shy bunch who appreciate a good laugh even during moments of intense civil disobedience. Set the world on its ear. Set the world on its tush. Join us!

Invitations will go out soon.

Paul De Lancey, Rabble Rouser






Rizogalo (Rice Pudding)

Greek Dessert

(Rice Pudding)


¼ cup butter
4½ cups whole milk
½ cup short-grain white rice
½ cup sugar
1 egg yolk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon corn flour
¼ teaspoon cinnamon.

Makes 4 cups. Takes 3 hours.


Add butter, milk, rice, and sugar to large pot. Bring to boil, stirring frequently. Reduce heat to low. Simmer for 45 minutes or until rice is soft. Remove from heat. Whisk egg yolk in small bowl. Add egg yolk, vanilla extract. and corn flour. Mix with whisk until well blended. Ladle rice pudding into cups. Let cool at room temperature for 15 minutes, then in refrigerator for another 45 minutes. Sprinkle with cinnamon.


1) There is quite a bit of stirring in this recipe. Doesn’t that all that stirring get tiring? Yes, it does. Which is why the Greek Aeronautics and Space Agency (GASA) has developed an autonomous robot designed for voyages to the asteroid belt.

2) Greek astronauts can’t afford to take their eyes off their rocket’s window for even one minute as asteroids and space rocks could crack their window. Whoosh! The astronauts would be sucked out by the vacuum of space. That would be horrible. So, you can see why GASA puts a rizogalo-making robot (RMR) on all missions.

3) RMRs are expensive. It needs enough artificial intelligence (AI) to make rizogalo without human aid. I also needs to cook in zero-gravity. Have you ever tried preparing rizogalo in outer space? It isn’t easy. The last time a human tried this the International Space Station was closed while Greek cleaning women were shuttled in. Getting all those globules with mops proved frustrating. The women had be trained for six months. The clean up took seven months. The Greek government ran up such a debt paying for this that it had enormous difficulties meeting its international obligations. Massive infusions of cash from Germany and other governments saved off default. Even so, the Euro almost collapsed. This would have destroyed the world economy. No one would have had money to buy clothes and most food. We would have been running around naked and eating lutefisk! So again, you can see why RMRs are essential on lengthy space flights.

Chef Paulcookbookhunks



Bad Advice Friday, 3-10-17


MA asks: This has been bothering me…Is it true that cannibals won’t eat clowns because they taste funny?

Dear MA: It’s partially true. All cannibals, and especially gourmet cannibals, are food connoisseurs. Any dish that is not prepared correctly will taste funny to them. For example ribs, and every human body has them, just cry out to be barbecued and with the highest quality barbecue sauce. And oh my gosh, pair your meal with the correct wine. White meat goes with white wine and dark meat goes with red wine. However, it is not true that cannibals don’t like clowns. Indeed, cannibals also like actors and are avid fans of dinner theater. Go to a show with them, they really know how to have a good time.


MH asks: How do you deal with that school parent who is “that mom” as she brags about her son’s grades and how well he punches kids in the stomach during gym class that always wants you and your kid to hang out with them, even giving your kid a kiss on the forehead and ordering her to sit next to him on the bus ride home?

Dear MH: Clearly words are working anymore. You need to take drastic actions. You need to get head lice for your daughter. Have your daughter put her head on the oafish boy’s shoulder. Many of her head lice will seek out the green pasture of the boy’s head and stampede there. Now getting head lice is getting harder and harder in America due to those pesky hygiene campaigns. In this case, go on a cruise, they’re fun, and head to a beach on your last port of call. Don’t give your daughter a towel. Have her put her head directly on the lice-infested beach. That ought to do it. And if the doltish boy is bald, feed your daughter lutefisk, the most evil food in the world, for breakfast. She’ll puke on the lout for sure. The kid and the mom will never want to bother you and your daughter ever again. Oh, I almost forgot. Head lice are distracting. His grades will suffer.


JP asks: what do you do when your next door neighbors who just moved has a boyfriend who lets his kids ride round in a kids motorized vehicle that its hood is painted as a confederate flag. A flat bottom boat a giant boxed in trailer and a speed boat, 2 hammocsk and s..t lying over year oh and a home made brick firepit. Help redneck invasion call out the troops.
Dear JP: You can’t let yourself be intimidated. Go to the army surplus store and buy yourself a small tank. (Like the guy in San Diego did some years ago.) Be sure to get one with tires. Tanks with treads aren’t road compliant. Highway Patrol will give a ticket. Take your tank to your neighbors house and yell, “This is for Fort Sumter.” The clods will either back down or rush for their guns. You now have two choices. One, fire an armor piercing round into their pickup truck and machine gun their home. However, if you are anti-guns, may I suggest driving your tank over their pickup truck and smashing into their home. What stops a thirty-ton tank nothing? Their truck will be flatter than a pancake and their home will be spectacularly ventilated. When the police come by to investigate, simply say, “But office, they never invited me over for barbecue.” The law will understand.


RAP asks: How do I get rid of my addiction for creating cookbooks?

Dear RAP: You are making the classic mistake of making good food, of making food with a nice aroma. You want to share your wonderful creations with the world. Stop it. Stop it, I say. Start making lutefisk, hasenpfeffer, and Limburger cheese. You’ll never want to write another cookbook. Indeed, you’ll probably never feel the need to cook again. So, it’s a good thing that Taco BellTM has a $5 box meal special going on.


SP asks: Dear Abby De Lancey: I have a gorjus neighbor who has begun to sunbathe in the nude. The fence between our yards isn’t high enough to block the view, if I go to the top floor and stand on my toes. My question is, do you know of any telescope repair shops in my neighborhood that will accept a rush order? Thanks in advance for your bad advice.

Dear SP: Aww, thanking me in advance, what good manners! Anyway, why the high-tech solution? Why the shyness? Simply place your ladder on the fence and clamber over with a jar of pickles. She’ll appreciate your directness. Women hate wall flowers. Say to her, “These pickles suck. Speaking of sucking pickles, how about getting to know me better?” I guarantee an immediate response.


SMC asks: What about my “naughty” problems?

Dear SMC: Make money off you “naughty” problems! Get your own reality show. Now you’ll have to have a gimmick to make your show stand out from all those other naughty-problem reality shows. May I suggest constant ad-lib haikus to accompany whatever you’re doing? T.V. listeners will eat it up.


BRW sends us this delightful photo.

Dear BRW: What a clever cat you have, able to think cogently and bilingual at least. Everyone likes clever cats. Take your cat to your boss’s house. He’ll impressed as all get out when your cat imparts the above advice to his dog. Career mobility will be assured.


DZ asks: Sometimes people send me a text saying only to give them a call. How do I make them send the information to me in a text like a normal person?

Dear DZ: Give them beans and tell them to under no circumstance to stuff the beans in their ears. Naturally their contrary nature will win out and they will stuff the beans in their ears. (I know this will work. Decades ago, a bright mind came to my father’s elementary school and told all the kids not to stick beans in their ears. The children, who up to then had never considered the idea, went home and pushed beans in their ears.) Anyway, the ear will swell up around the bean–pinto beans are the best–so tightly that they won’t be able to hear. They will be forced to text. Now the beans can be removed by a doctor, so the bean isn’t permanent, but the memories will be. They’ll never ask you to call again. And don’t stick beans in your ears, DZ.


RSD asks: If i want to beat the best chess player in time and history (Michail Tal or Bobby Fischer) Do I need to go to heaven or hell or what/where/how? 🙂 I need advice, you being the world chef I thought I came to the right place as everyone needs to eat.

Dear RSD: The best chess players are not dead. Their deaths were faked by the CIA. Indeed they work for the CIA. You can find them at Area 51. Just drive up to the main gate and tell the guard that you want to play chess with Tal and Fisher. You’ll be amazed how quickly the guard will wave you in. May you bring your best game with you.


TLR asks: I’ve been feeling the urge to get another tattoo, Paul. What should I get?

Dear TLR: Either a tattoo of all the recurring items you need to get from the supermarket, but always forget. I mean how many times have you made out a grocery list but forgot to bring it. Or a list of your family’s and friends’ phone numbers. Of course, once you tattoo their names and numbers on your arms, you will need to speak rather forcefully about the dire consequences of changing their phone number.


Doctor Paul De Lanceycookbookhunks






I used GoogleTM Translate to translate the above phrases into the following languages. You might never need to use these words in your global travels, but do you want to take that chance? Read and remember.

Afrikaans – Geen lutefisk, asseblief, dit maak my siek. Waar is die naaste taco vragmotor?
Albanian – No lutefisk, ju lutem, kjo më bën të sëmurë. Ku është më i afërt kamion taco?
Arabic – لا lutefisk، من فضلك، يجعلني سوء. أين هي أقرب شاحنة تاكو؟ (Apparently, this language doesn’t have a word for lutefisk. Who knew?)
Chichewa – palibe lutefisk, chonde, IT kupanga chilichonse choipa. uli yapafupi taco galimoto?
Chinese, traditional – 沒有lutefisk，請，這讓我生病。 最近的taco卡車在哪裡？(What? The Chinese don’t have a word for tacos and they have nuclear weapons. Oh, this doesn’t sound good.)
Dutch – Geen lutefisk, alsjeblieft, het enig ziek. Waar is de dichtstbijzijnde taco truck?
French – Pas lutefisk, s’il vous plaît, IT faire tout mauvais. Où est le camion taco le plus proche?
German – Kein lutefisk, bitte, IT jeder krank machen. Wo ist der nächste LKW Taco?
Greek – Δεν lutefisk, παρακαλώ, αυτό με κάνει να άρρωστος. Πού είναι το πλησιέστερο taco φορτηγό; (What? The Greeks don’t have a word for taco and they call their country the Cradle of Western Thought?)
Hindi – कोई lutefisk, कृपया, यह मुझे बीमार बना देता है। निकटतम टैको ट्रक कहां है? (See? You can order a taco in India. All you have to do is read Hindi and pronounce it correctly.)
Hungarian – Nem lutefisk, kérem, ez teszi beteggé. Hol van a legközelebbi taco teherautó?
Latin – Lutefisk non placet, si male me. Ubi est proxima taco dolor? (If by accident you end up in ancient Rome, you’ll be able to ask for a taco truck?)
Polish – Nie lutefisk, proszę, to sprawia, że chory. Gdzie jest najbliższy ciężarówka taco?
Russian – Нет лютефиск, пожалуйста, это не делает меня больным. Где находится ближайший тако грузовик? (The fact that the country is run by an opportunistic dictator must be balance with the fact that Russians have a word for taco.)
Scots Gaelic – Chan eil lutefisk, feuch, tha mi tinn. Càite bheil a ‘fhaisge taco làraidh?
Spanish – Sin lutefisk, por favor, TI tiene ningún enfermo. ¿dónde está el camión de tacos más cercano?
Swedish – Ingen lutefisk snälla, gör mig sjuk. Var finns närmaste taco lastbil?
Vietnamese – Không LUTEFISK, xin vui lòng, nó làm cho tôi bị bệnh. Trường hợp là xe tải taco gần nhất? (Vietnam has no word for lutefisk. Had France and America known this the Vietnam War might never been fought.)
Yiddish – ניט קיין לוטעפיסק, ביטע, עס מאכט מיר קראַנק. ווו איז די ניראַסט טאַקאָ טראָק?

My spell checker went nuts with this blog.

Chef Paulcookbookhunks




Shrimp Soup (Chupe de Camarones)

Chilean Soup

(Chupe de Camarones)


6 slices white bread
1 12-ounce can evaporated milk
1 medium onion
1 small carrot
1 stalk celery
1 red bell pepper
2 cups water
½ cup white wine
1¼ pounds shrimp, deveined with shells still on
2 tablespoons butter
½ teaspoon oregano
¼ teaspoon pepper
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon thyme
¼ pound grated Parmesan cheese
½ teaspoon parsley



Makes 6 bowls. Takes 50 minutes.


Remove crust from bread. Add bread and evaporated milk to 1st mixing bowl. Let sit for 15 minutes. Mix with fork

While bread/milk mixture sits, mince onion. Dice carrot, celery, and red bell pepper. Remove shrimp shells from shrimp. KEEP shrimp shells. Add water, white wine, shrimp shells, carrot, and celery to pot. Bring to boil using high heat. Stir occasionally. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from heat. Pour pot through colander into 2nd mixing bowl. Discard shrimp shells, carrot, and celery.

Add onion, bell pepper, and butter to pan. Sauté at medium-high heat for 5 minutes or until onion and bell pepper softens. Stir frequently. Add oregano, pepper. salt, and thyme. Stir.

Add soaked bread and sautéed onion and bell pepper to pot. Cook at medium heat for 5 minutes. Stir frequently Add shrimp and Parmesan cheese. Cook for 3 minutes or until shrimp turns pink and cheese melts. Garnish with parsley.


1) Tyrannosaurus Rexes had tiny arms.

2) Shrimp have tiny arms.

3) Coincidence?

4) No. Culinary archeologists–Woo hoo, spelled it right the first time–have long known that shrimp are descended from T-Rexes.

5) About 65 millions years ago a massive meteor hit Earth. The impact threw up so much debris that no sunlight got through. It was like going off daylight savings time, getting up at 6 a.m. and finding it still dark outside. Then you have to drive your kid to school in the dark and struggle to get in and out of the school parking lot. But you can’t get through the parking lot because one million other parents are driving their kids as well and oh my gosh, someone cuts in front of you and you were just trying to get out of the parking lot and you honk so your horn.

Oh my gosh, that parent who cut you off, just flipped you off!

“Jerk!” You honk again.

Oh my gosh, she flips you off once more.

“Eat lutefisk, telemarketer,” you find yourself saying.

She gets out of the car and strides towards you. You get out of your car. She sprays you with air freshener. You do the same to her. It’s about to get really ugly when the principal runs between the two of you. “Leave this parking lot at once,” he roars. So you and your nemesis get back in your car. But you can’t leave the parking lot, there are still two millions cars trying to turn left at the signal and the signal stays green for only twenty seconds.

6) Same with the extinction of the dinosaurs, except their parking lot was metaphorical.

7) And that long-ago meteor caused blocked out the Sun for decades, resulting in the death of most plants. The herbivorous dinosaurs died off for lack of food. The carnivorous dinosaurs starting dying off along with their prey.

8) Except for the T-rexes who happened to be at a convention by the ocean. One powerful hungry T-Rex, his name was Billy, saw a fish swimming close to the beach. His tiny arms were just the right size to grab this meal.

9) The rest of the rexes saw this and entered the ocean in search of sustenance. The numerous rexes began to deplete the fish supply. Fortunately, the kings of the dinosaurs didn’t need massive bodies, huge heads with dozens of knife like teeth to catch fish. So over time, the rexes diminished in size until they became the shrimp we see today.

10) Okay, okay, along the way they grew a lot of arms, but that development is harder to explain.

Chef Paulcookbookhunks




Italian Dessert



6 lady fingers
6 egg yolks
⅔ cup sugar
½ teaspoon rum extract or 2 tablespoons rum or Marsala wine
1 pound marscapone*
½ cup room-temperature espresso
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa

* = You could use cream cheese as a substitute, but then the ghosts of thousands of Italian chefs would arise to terrorize the world and you don’t want that, do you?


8″ x 8″ casserole dish
double boiler (This utensil makes this recipe easier. However, the recipe is written for those who don’t have one. Life is fraught with difficult choices.)

Serves 6. Takes 6 hours 15 minutes.


Add egg yolks and sugar to mixing bowl. Mix with whisk until well blended. Add rum extract. Mix with whisk until well blended. Add egg yolk/sugar mixture to pan. The pan needs to be just wide enough not to fall into to the pot that will go beneath it.

Add water to pot until it is 2/3 the way to the top. Heat on high heat until water is nearly boiling. Reduce heat to low and rest pan on the pot. Stir egg yolk/sugar mixture for 10 minutes or until it starts to thicken. Stir constantly. Remove from heat and cool in refrigerator for 15 minutes or until mixture is cold. Add marscapone. Mix gently with whisk until mixture is creamy.

Cut lady fingers in half along their lengths Drizzle lady-finger halves with espresso. Arrange the bottom halves of the lady fingers in casserole dish. Add ½ of the marscapone/egg yolk mixture over espresso and lady fingers. Smooth with spatula. Add lady-finger tops and the remaining marscapone/egg yolk mixture. Sprinkle with cocoa. Refrigerate for 5 hours or until tiramisu is firm.


1) The Russia of 1611 to 1613 was ruled by a cat, Tsar Miiu. Miiu is the way Russian cats say “meow.” Now, cats do not ordinarily rule such a large country or even a smaller one like Belgium.

2) However, Tsar Miiu reign began during difficult times. Indeed, the years of 1598 are known as The Time of Troubles. Because they were troubling times. With lots of troubles. People were troubled by the troubling troubles.

3) On August 23, 1601, a young teen named Ivan stayed in bed. He should have been out helping with the harvest. Instead he daydreamed and daydreamed about the beautiful Reiko Go. The Gos ran a small restaurant in the nearby. As the only place serving Japanese noodles within thousands of miles, Go to Go’s pretty much had the Miso Soup market cornered. When the peasants didn’t have time to sit down, they ordered to go at Go to Go’s to go window.

4) Anyway, Ivan’s parents came in and raged at Ivan for his laziness. They called him: moss, a rock, a slug a sloth, and a sluggish sloth. Disgusted at this abuse, Ivan, a scant hour later, bolted out of bed and took off to Go to Go’s to see Reiko. He asked her to elope. Reiko said, “You’re as handsome as the perfect noodle, but I’d so as eat lutefisk as marry you. You have no money. You have no prospects. You’ve as much get up and go as a snail relying on plate tectonics for a burst of speed.”

5) There you have it, the first mention of plate tectonics. Reiko often mused about the Earth’s shifting plates during slow times at the restaurant. That Reiko had figured out the Earth was composed of a core composed of molten nickel, a mantle made of rockish stuff (This was a theory in its infancy, after all.), and a crust comprised of slowly moving plates. She could have revolutionized the world of science. But instead, she devoted herself to making the perfect noodle.

6) Reiko pointed her finger at the door. “Go, be like Dmitri, the son of our late Tsar.”
“But he’s dead, sweetheart. People say he staggered off a cliff.”
“Ivan, I don’t know that. I didn’t see that. No one saw him die. He could have journeyed to Paris for the perfect boeuf bourguignon.”

7) A light bulb went off over Ivan’s head. If no one saw Dmitri die and no one knew what he looked anymore like as it had been years since his last appearance and Dimitri had worn a cloth sack over his anyway due to his acne. So, Ivan showed up at the Russian Duma and proclaimed himself to be Dmitri, the true heir to the Russian throne. Most of the Russian nobles put up no resistance, having dined on lutefisk for lunch.

8) However, the nobility that had eaten chicken instead contested his claim. Civil war broke out. Battles raged all over the country. Crops were trampled and burnt. Foreign governments sensing opportunity, invaded. Land was taken. Citrus trees were chopped down. The Russian tangelo industry would never recover. More pretenders to the throne arose. Even more fighting occurred, enough to warrant an exclamation point! The Russian Duma met and withdrew support from all contenders. A new tsar needed to be crowned.

9) A that point Miiu, a cat, padded into the building, a mouse in his mouth. Boyar Koniev pointed at it. “That cat for Tsar.”
Boldin shook his head. “Nyet, that is only a cat. All it will do is catch mices and nap.”
“Bo ho,” said Koniev, “wouldn’t that be a huge improvement over all the tsars and claimants we’ve had lately?”
Everyone agreed and Miiu became Tsar. Miiu reigned for two years, By that time Russia had calmed down enough to raise a human to the throne. The new tsar’s chef and anagrammatist, created a new dessert in Tsar Miiu’s honor, tiramisu.

Chef Paulcookbookhunks



Banana Fritters From Djibouti

Djiboutian Breakfast



3 ripe bananas
½ teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons sugar
⅛ teaspoon vanilla extract
½ cup flour
¼ cup butter
2½ teaspoons honey (½ teaspoon per fritter)

Makes 5 fritters. Takes 25 minutes.


Add bananas to mixing bowl. Mash bananas with fork. or squoosh with hands. Add cinnamon, sugar, and vanilla to mixing bowl. Mix with fork until batter is well blended. Add flour. Mix with fork until well blended. Add oil to pan. Heat butter on medium heat until it starts to bubble. Ladle ¼ cup of batter at a time to pan. Flatten with spatula. Do not let fritters touch each other. You might need to cook in batches. Cook one side for 3 minutes on medium-high heat and then for 2 minutes on the other side or till fritters are golden brown all over. Drizzle each fritter with 1 teaspoon honey.

Note: cooking times tend to go down with each batch. This is true even with the batch. Watch the fritters carefully and adjust cooking times and even temperatures accordingly. Remember golden brown, always golden brown. These fritters are crumbly, so be sure to get the spatula completely under the fritter when flipping them. Flip carefully.


1) “Shipoopi” is also a rousing song from the great musical The Music Man. Shipoopi rhymes with Djibouti. This is no accident. Artists and song writers in particular need solitude to create works of genius. Life in American cities is rife with telemarketers, neighbors blasting music, car horns blaring, television commercials, and door-to-door lutefisk vendors knocking at your door. The Djibouti of 1943 to 1966 had none of those distractions.

2) The Golden Age of Musicals was also 1943 to 1966. This is no coincidence. The great song writers all stayed in quiet, quiet Djibouti where they never had an idea driven out of their head.

3) But in 1967, Djiboutians began agitating for independence. The demonstrations were mainly non-violent and orderly. However, they were too loud and cacophonous for the sensitive ears and minds of the song writers. The writers left the country. But they had no place to go. Djibouti had been the world’s last haven of quiet. The Golden Age of musicals ended. “Shipoopi” remains an homage to this once tranquil land. “Djibouti, Djibouti, but you can eat there yet.”

Chef Paulcookbookhunks



My Resolutions for 2017


  1. Never eat lutefisk.nemesis
  2. Never eat mushrooms.
  3. Nap only when I’m asleep.
  4. Understand my new cell phone.
  5. Take advantage of the amazing healing properties of tacos.
  6. Kill no one blocking the aisles in a supermarket with their cart.
  7. Double my Slovenian vocabulary.
  8. Understand my new cell phone.
  9. Lose weight, gain weight, or stay the same.
  10. Avoid fomenting revolution.
  11. Do better on Dancing With the StarsTM or at least no worse.
  12. Understand my new cell phone.
  13. Read books.
  14. Not get angry at other drivers. This will entail baby steps. I will start from the inside of my home and work my way up to the road.
  15. Make a recipe from Croatia.
  16. Understand my new cell phone.
  17. Conduct more gravitational experiments. No, no, not the same thing as dropping things. Not the same thing at all.
  18. Become one with a bubble bath.
  19. Master tiramisu.
  20. Understand my new cell phone.
  21. Watch the last season of “How I Met Your Mother.” It’s good to see things through. Builds character.
  22. Write in complete sentences.
  23. Eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut in half diagonally.
  24. Understand my new cell phone.

Wish me luck.

Chef Paulcookbookhunks



Why You Should Never Eat Lutefisk


Lutefisk is an abomination that proves Evil still stalks the land. It offends and destroys all the senses.

Sight: It looks like boogers or broiled phlegm.

Smell: It reeks like a rat decomposing under the cellar furnace.

Touch: It has the lovely consistency of a corpse’s innards that have finally exploded in the hot summer Sun, but you’re a dectective and have to search through the body with your glove-covered hands to find the bullet that the killer used to commit this cowardly murder.

Taste: Oh gosh, you’ll want to set your razor to its highest level and shave off your taste buds off your tongue just to prevent tasting the next bite.

Sound: After eating lutefisk, just the mere mention of it will set off PTSS.

It’s been a half century since I had lutefisk. Not enough time has elapsed.

I give up lutefisk every year for Lent. I have a will of iron. I have never even been tempted to backslide.

If you ever are invited to a dinner when lutefisk is served, my I suggest that you join the French Foreign Legion and politely send your regrets from some combat zone.

Chef Paulcookbookhunks



Blog at

%d bloggers like this: