The Library of Table

Given an infinite combination of games & food . . .

Out of the VeganMoFo Gate . . .

. . . very, very slowly.

Having some trouble with WordPress here, which I suspect will be resolved in due time, but it does mean that my plans to make a brilliant post on vegan snacks and gaming have been thwarted. Time to improvise . . .


Tonight’s a TV night, which, more importantly, means tonights a popcorn night. And I’m having trouble waiting for the appropriate popping hour. This, above all else, is the secret to popcorn. Pop too soon, and you’ll eat all your popcorn before your show starts. Too late, and you’ll miss that first self-contained skit that happens just before the opening credits that, because it’s so small and has no real bearing on the overall plot, you’ll probably never bother to watch later on Hulu, and that makes some small part of you die just knowing that the moment has slipped away from you into the swirling eddy of time. Which of course reminds you of all the moments you’ve lost to time, like tears in the rain.

This is the existential peril of popcorn. So for Frith’s sake, don’t fuck up the timing.

The popcorn porn pictured above is actually the documentation of a sad tale from years past. Of a time when I made myself a delicious bowl of nooch*-dusted popping corn, settling in for a delightful evening with the Doctor and my inner spaz ended up scattering corn and nooch across my living room floor.

Post A-pop-calyptic Cornage

Post A-pop-calyptic Cornage

But as cruel as that fate was, it pales in comparison to the fate that lays before me tonight. For I have no nooch to adorn my pillowy white puffs of corn–

Okay, hold on a moment. We’ll get back to the nooch crisis in a moment, but it just occurred to me that I’m not particularly comfortable with describing popcorn this way. There’s something too gentle about it. There’s nothing gentle about popcorn. Each one is an explosion, frozen in time, waiting to implode under the crushing power of your jaw and dissolving action of your saliva.

And they aren’t without their defenses! Oh no. Tightly bound kernels, which endured the searing heat of the oil, wait to dash their rock-hard bodies against your enamel walls. Razor sharp husks, shrapnel from explosions, lie in wait to serrate your gums. This not a helpless food. This is an army to be conquered.

–but all is not lost. Even in a nooch-less household, I have a plan. A secret recipe I like to call Thanksgiving Popping Corn. I’ll share it with you, but only if you promise never to share it with anyone else.

Thanksgiving Popping Corn


  • Oil, one amount.
  • Popping corn, plenty of.
  • Salt, generous helpings of.
  • And the secret ingredient (highlight to see): Sage


  1. Heat the oil in a big ass pot. One you’ve got a cover for. If you don’t have a cover, you’re going to be very sorry after step two. While you’re at it, drop a few kernels in the oil. When they pop you’ll know it’s ready. I like to use three for this, because I know black magic.
  2. Dump the rest of your popping corn in the pot and cover it! Quick! Seriously. I’m not responsible for any personal injury or loss of property.
  3. Listen to those angry pops. Ha! The fools! They think they can escape the heat if they jump high enough. But you’ve covered it and now they’ve no way out. You should be shaking it during this part. Just to let them know who’s boss. Put them in their place.
  4. Once the popping dies down, remove from the heat and dump the lot of them in a bowl. Something that can take the heat. You don’t want oily plastic melted all over your popcorn.
  5. Sprinkle the popcorn with liberal amounts of salt and sage.
  6. Hurry your ass up, your show is about to start.


* Did anyone else catch that nutritional yeast is sometimes referred to as yeshi, which is an Ethiopian name meaning “for a thousand”? I rather like that.


  kittee wrote @

oh man, you had me crouched down waiting for the secret ingredient. but you’re right it really is about timing. also, i have to eat popcorn really slowly, when i want to chow on it big time, because dazee eats his sooo slow and if i finish mine and he still has some left, it is pure torture.


  Epidiah wrote @

Pacing yourself is the worst. Especially when you’ve got to share. Why can’t people be more considerate and devour with vigor like normal human beings?

  Angela wrote @

Yes Yes Yeshi! We just pass it around the table and everyone loves it – truly is “for a thousand!”

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