bloodhounding.

I'm sure there's a more descriptive name for what I am than "obsessive", maybe someone can help remind/enlighten me as to what it is so that I don't spend another hour of my life stuck in a marginally-useful Googhole.

The symptoms: when "interested" in a subject, I tend to crave detail, beginning with the basics and quickly working towards the "most interesting" nooks and crannies I can sniff out. If the subject's entire realm of knowable detail is a tree, metaphorically speaking, then you will most definitely find me out on the tiniest dead-end branches, squinting metaphorically off into the distance in search of other branches to which I might metaphorically leap (someone witty should say something hilarious here about a brother's metaphorical weight and the likelihood of any metaphorical branch supporting his metaphorical leaping without his ending up in a tangle of detail-obsessed limbs on the floor of his Imaginary Knowledge Jungle, but...).

Which brings me to my current "interest" in the cooking of Sri Lanka. I'm not proud of it, it's just the way my mind works.

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(insert perfunctory and poorly-researched three-sentence history of Sri Lanka here)

I can see how it happened. Unbeknownst to y'all, I've been playing around with Indian food lately, a cuisine that I was once quite madly in love with but had to abandon in the interest of possible good health, or at least something we'll call "less bad health".

As a result of this previous "interest", there aren't too many regional styles of cooking over there with which I'm completely unfamiliar, but Sri Lankan is (was) one of them. And as you can imagine, I have a real problem leaving these last stones unturned.

And thus, we turn them. Tonight I'm making a Sri Lankan curry. Elements of distinction? Coconut, cinnamon, cardamom. Toasted, to boot.

Until then, here's this:

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