After consuming a derby pie over course of the past week, I was in the mood for traditional southern food, so I bought parts for southern style kale (which falls way past the “Vegtables cooked in pork count as pork” line) and biscuits. I got around to cooking it for dinner earlier, and it was terribly satisfying in its own salty, strangely textured way. Not a style of food I cook, or even eat often, and, unusually for traditional southern food, not terribly likely to kill you in short order.
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So Humbert and cubus schemed and dreamed – and the red sun of desire and decision (the two things that create a live world) rose higher and higher,— Vladimir Nabokov
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