Your Friday Moment of Zen

Illustration of a carp

[Illustration: Biodiversity Heritage Library]

You did it! Another week down!

We're putting up a post very much like this one every Friday afternoon, to celebrate the fact that the week is done. Down with the bad early weekdays! Up with the very good late weekday and weekend days! Awkwardly stated, but you get it!

We think of this series as something of a send-off for the week, giving you the option of a brief interlude for your Friday afternoon. Of course, if your workweek is just starting, or if you're still in the thick of it, think of this as a pick-me-up for your personal hump day or as a nice way to kick off your weekend shifts.

We hope to provide a short mix of mostly silly, mostly food-related, mostly entertaining things to look at, listen to, and read, and we hope you'll find it amusing, and maybe, sometimes, edifying and enlightening. We also see it as an opportunity to go over some of what's new on the site, which you, dear readers, may have missed.

If you have feedback, or if you run across any interesting/oddball/totally crazy stories/podcasts/images/videos during the week that you think may be appropriate for this little collection of miscellany, email us! We can't guarantee we'll use it, but we will 100% appreciate the effort.

What's New on Serious Eats

You can, of course, browse all our content in reverse-chronological order. But here are some highlights:

Our Favorite Comments of the Week

From the recipe for no-bake Greek yogurt cheesecake:

If an angel and a cloud had a baby that grew up to marry the offspring of an alchemist and a prize dairy cow, this cake would be their baby. At first bite, you feel like you're eating a cheesecake-flavored spring breeze which tantalizingly coats your palate in a tangy sheet of silken luxury, offset by the eventual crunchy salty-ish notes of a simple crust.

I halved the filling recipe but still made it in an 8 in springform pan and it came out about the same size as a normal cheesecake, but this fluffy texture could easily accommodate the height specified in the recipe. It just wasn't for a special event and I wasn't sure how much my family would wind up eating. Doesn't matter though as I'm happy to polish it off.

I used a malted graham cracker crust as I was plum out of chocolate cookies or the time to make them. I guess no-bake yogurt cake doesn't have the same ring to it, but I love this thing. I'll make it again and again and it's the perfect showstopper to unveil to a crowd. It's much lighter than a regular cheesecake but is still full of flavor and richness. Truly a magical creation.

From "Calm, Cool, Collected: The Only Way to Jelly Roll":

Printed and laminated.

Do they give a Nobel Prize for recipe technique writing? No? Well, they should.

From a commenter (who we are frankly quite worried about) on Facebook, in response to the re-featured article "Roasting Mushrooms? Save the Cooking Liquid to Make a Savory Condiment":

Should we throw the mushrooms away though?

A Brief Book Break

You have a family, Mister Riffytear? what do you do when you're not fixing figures? It was just an expression but he felt chilled, so held his teacup with both hands. He hoped for another helping. The gravy was thin and clear and pure and perfectly delicious. He'd never cared for spinach much but he cared for this spinach as if the plants were plants of his own. Nutmeg, she answered, when he asked. Ah. Where did you learn to fix figures?...cook?...They laughed at the way their questions had run together. But had she said fix? My mother. My mother was a minister's daughter. Did socials and picnics most her life. Could cook for a company. I bet she could. She stood by her stove like a sentry. I bet she did. No children, then, Mister Riffytear, love's gift to life? No, sorry, no, no wife. Yes, if it's so, then you shouldn't be sorry, oh, I too am left at the end of my line, though there must be a meaning, mustn't there be, Mister Riffytear, a meaning to being barren? I always wanted a boy, Walter confessed, to take— Not hunting, I hope, not killing in the leftover fields, Bettie said sharply. Oh, no...ah...bowling, he answered with a stupidity which made him blush, but she seemed not to have heard him, staring into the dark remainder of the room, speaking as though to a corner.

From Cartesian Sonata: and Other Novellas by William H. Gass.

Food Numbers, News, and Hijinks

Have a wonderful weekend, everybody!