No, it's *not* bean stew. It's cassoulet. They're different.

(Last) week's Resolution Recipe: Cassoulet.

The etymology of the recipe name is kinda interesting, at least for a word geek like me. It is, of course, Fronch. Looking in the Fronch equivalent of the OED, it comes from the same root word as cassé, or "broke(n)". It's a diminutive (-let): it was originally a poor peasant dish, and so the name derives from being a meal you made when you were "a little broke".

This is going to sound like a lot of work, but it's mostly scheduling.
( Anyway, on to the recipe. )

What I'm reading: Charles Stross, The Jennifer Morgue

On prevarication.

I have a certain reputation among my friends as a prevaricator. Simply because I will tell people that "wassail" comes from the Anglo-Saxon phrase "Was hael", or "What the hell."

Or because I "documented" the Hlafclaenness Dom, or Anglo-Saxon "Bread Purity Law" of 1047.

Or because I submitted a cooking competition entry for "Theatre Viewing Dinners", or "TV Dinners" for short - an Elizabethan trencher containing roast meat in brown sauce, creamed yellow peas, and an apple tart. With an aluminum foil top (a substitute for the original lead foil).

Or... but you get the idea.

Now, I generally don't do this at work. A) It's a bad idea; B) They generally wouldn't appreciate the effort.
So it's a little odd when a cow-orker is moaning about how his orange tree produces bitter fruit, and I tell him to amend the soil with (among other things) manure. And he and everyone else in the room don't believe me.

The thing is, it's entirely the truth and they have no pattern of deception to twig to. Am I just emitting a visible lie-smithing field?