plate cooking

From the 8th:

  • After disembarking from a big ferry on a clear afternoon onto an industrial-scale concrete wharf, I was walking with a group (consisting largely of WU friends, I think) north along it. There were cranes also rolling along slowly on the wharf that we had to avoid getting in the way of, and occasionally there were story-high rises in the concrete that we had to surmount via steps or maybe just clambering up them at some points.
  • Later, though it seemed to be forenoon at that point, I reboarded on a sunny atrium level of the ferry. There was a person standing behind a podium who reviewed each person’s blood type as they went by. I had B type, most others had A.
  • On a late afternoon, maybe outside or just inside, I was sauteing breaded chicken and white rice in a tomato sauce on a china plate. It took a while to roll all the rice into the mix. The plate was eventually wider than it had been; I put it on another plate or dish to be able to put it on the table and eat the food, since the one plate was really hot from being cooked on.
  • I was inside a Jeep whose interior had all kinds of pastel/saturated-color inserts and children’s program things in the dashboard, which all seemed asinine.

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