Batfort

Style reveals substance

Tag: zero carb (page 3 of 5)

One Year with Batfort

Twelve hours ago, I crouched determinedly over a fire ring. After a full night’s rain, the morning had dawned clear and blue and sunny (for the time being) but a chill still clung to the lake like a mist. I was in charge of our morning fire. Armed with tissue and little bits of mostly-dry tinder, and shavings of wood, I lit the little bits on fire. (I must confess, I’d never done this before). I was determined to do it the old-fashioned way, without accelerant, but I could only go by feel. I blew on the little flames when I shouldn’t have, at first, but fortunately they didn’t go out.

As the fire grew bigger, I added larger and larger pieces of wood, until at last it crackled merrily and blossomed into a real, honest-to-goodness campfire. That was when we plunked on a few big logs and settled in for a nice long camp morning.

Of course, there was a canoe adventure too.

***

Twelve months ago, I hunched determinedly over my laptop. After years of trying to keep up a blog, my recent conversion to carnivory had given me a whole new type of energy (for the time being) but doubt still clung to my mind like a cobweb. I decided to post every day in a little blog called Batfort. Armed with my thoughts and writing abilities, I started writing daily posts. (I must confess, I was terrified at first.) I was determined not to miss a day, but still had to come up with a post, so I went mostly by feel. I wrote some subpar things at first, but I didn’t give up.

As the blog grew bigger, I wrote longer and more creative posts until at last it resembled somewhat of a real blog. After the 6 month mark it even started picking up honest-to-goodness views. Batfort has picked up momentum and has settled in as a daily habit.

Of course, there are online business ideas too.

***

Friends, the goal has been reached. Back a year ago I decided to follow the advice of Mike Cernovich and post in a blog every single day for a year to see what would happen. To force myself to publish something, no excuses, daily.

I committed, and that commitment has paid off. I proved to myself that I could do it, even through new jobs and moves to entirely different cities, work trips and camping trips, illnesses and internet outages.

There were no restrictions on the content that I posted, and I decided not to care about the quality of any of the posts–only that they were published. I’ve had to work through feelings of looking-stupid-on-the-internet because writing takes time to refine, and ideas as well.

But with that, over the past year I’ve become a stronger writer, more confident in myself. My content has expanded greatly–so much politics at first–into all sorts of things that I’m interested in. I have a better idea of what I like to write about, and what I think, and what my strengths are.

Aside from the decision to go full carnivore (which was the best decision I’ve made in the past several years), I’m so glad I committed–really committed–to posting daily on Batfort. There were difficult days, and I still haven’t settled on a daily routine for getting these things done, but I have built something that I’m proud of, something that I can keep feeding wisps of kindling to so that it becomes a friendly, crackling fire.

Even though my year is over, I have no intention of letting this Batfort flounder. I’ve trained myself to the habit of posting every day without fail, so I will not fail for the time being. But I’d like to turn Batfort into something a little better, give it a little more coherence and care.

I’m still working out exactly what that looks like, but you can bet that I’m working on coaxing my tiny flicker of words into a steady flame.

 

Carnivore Food Journal

Some people Instagram all their meals. I dissect the play by play.

I just got back from a work conference, which meant that I was living out of a hotel in a strange city for a couple of days. Keeping myself well fed was a top priority, as I had no idea about the food “landscape” of Salt Lake City. Challenge accepted.

Some additional considerations:

  • I absolutely refuse to check bags, which means that packing food is a big more difficult. It’s harder to get food through security, plus it’s heavy.
  • The conference organizers tried to be “healthy” in their food choices this year. That meant nearly vegan, fiber everywhere, stuff that makes my gut cry just looking at it.
  • Recently I quit drinking coffee and eating dairy, and I’ve seen some health gains from this. I was determined not to throw off my new pattern of eating.
  • However, as a splurge, I planned on going to a distillery tour and tasting. (How could you not in Salt Lake City??) I knew this was a potential risk, but it’s calculated, and I wanted to save all my potential for cheating on this.
  • I carry a little snuffbox of salt from Jacobson’s Sea Salt just in case. This way, I’m never out of seasoning that I know is quality and free of dextrose or other fillers.

So how did this all play out in real life? Pretty dang well. I didn’t succumb to coffee or cheese (although I was tempted a few times), navigated some dinners out with colleagues, and never went hungry (although occasionally I got hungrier than usual between meals because I had to deal with the conference schedule and not my own).

Here’s a play-by-play.

Day 1

After I checked in to my hotel, I ventured out to the nearest Whole Foods (which I had checked out online prior to the trip, of course, because I am a compulsive googler). At Whole Foods, home of delicious roast chicken and hands-down the best quality salad bar, I stocked up on some staples:

  • A plain roast chicken
  • Shredded chicken and 6 hard boiled eggs from the salad bar
  • 2 cans of just-salt tuna with a pop top
  • A shrimp cocktail pack

Now I had a portable meal that I could take somewhere if needed (the tuna) and some snacks to stash in the hotel fridge. This “fridge” ended up being more like a cooler, so I grabbed the liner from the ice bucket, filled it with ice, and used that to keep everything cool. I kept the chicken until Day 3 and wouldn’t have eaten it past that, given these conditions.

When I got back to the hotel that night, I ate the shrimp out of the shrimp cocktail pack and the dark meat of the chicken. And all of the skin, because it is delicious. And maybe a hard boiled egg, because I was hungry.

Day 2

Breakfast from a restaurant nearby, scrambled eggs and bacon. For lunch, I was in a rush so I grabbed a hard boiled egg and some of the shredded chicken from my fridge.

Dinner, though, was a “welcome reception” for the conference. I quick scout of the meal offerings detected some beef skewers with onions and peppers, with a lot of seasoning on. I ate a few of the skewers at the reception, scraping off the seasoning and avoiding the veggies, and then stole a bunch more to take up to my room afterward. There, I rinsed them off in the sink–which gives you slightly waterlogged meat, but I’d rather have that then the other consequences. For dessert, I finished off the shredded chicken.

Day 3

I ran out of time for breakfast, so I snarfed my last 2 hard boiled eggs. By the time lunch rolled around, I was so hungry that I bolted out of the session I was attending and headed straight to Apollo Burger, where I ordered a bunch of burger patties and a side of bacon, to go. I ate most of it there, but the remaining burger patty I took back to the hotel and stashed it in my fridge/cooler.

Dinner was with colleagues at Oyster Bar. I ordered a 1/2 pound broiled halibut steak, which was very tasty but also very expensive. After the meal, I went home and ate my remaining burger patty and the rest of the roast chicken with some butter I stole from our table at the restaurant. I am shameless about stealing butter these days.

Day 4

Bacon and eggs breakfast again, patties and bacon for lunch (although this time with a friend), and patties again for dinner after the distillery tour. However, the dude at the burger place by the distillery misunderstood my order so I got one lone patty and a side of bacon. A snack, but certainly not dinner. So I ordered more patties and bacon from the location near my hotel when I got back.

Day 5

Bacon and eggs breakfast again, because it is delicious and filling. Consequences from the distillery tasting were nonexistent (yay!). For lunch, I found a nice place outside to eat my cans of tuna. I hadn’t needed them during the conference, and didn’t want to risk them being thrown out at the airport.

For dinner, I was planning to check out a Brazilian steakhouse nearby, but I ran into a colleague and we ended up getting barbecue at a place he liked. It was great barbecue, but they put a rub on all of their meats. Even though I’ve historically had issues with seasonings, I went for it anyway. It was the last night, what did I have to lose?

(I can tell you that–I could definitely feel the next morning. Nothing horrible, but definitely a step in the wrong direction.)

So, my friends, that is how I fed myself during a conference in Salt Lake City. Could I have been more adventurous? Yes. Could I have also just stayed with the steakhouse in the hotel and spent a million dollars on food? Also yes.

I’m happy with my choices, and I’m more happy that I’m seeing continued positive gains in the gut department even though I did stressful things like travel and work conferences.

Apollo Burger appreciation post

Update: this appears to apply only to the downtown location.

Travel changes everything, y’all. Because that’s all I”m posting about. Travel and food.

In this case I have a purpose. I would like to express my deepest appreciation for Apollo Burger for existing a block away from my hotel.

Not only do they serve 1/3 pound burgers (really!) made out of high-quality beef, the server didn’t bat an eye when I asked for my usual. (That’s 4 patties to go in a box with a side of bacon, please.)

Not only do they serve breakfast, but when I ordered their biggest breakfast without hashbrowns or cheese, they made up for it by giving me an extra egg and some extra bacon.

Not only is their store impeccably clean and stylish, but their service is fast.

The food is freeking delicious, too. Even cold, the burgers are juicy. There’s just the right amount of char on them from the grill, but they’re not overdone at all. And the size is so satisfying.

And, my usual is roundabouts $10. That’s cheaper than Burgerville, and I owe them an appreciation post as well.

If you’re ever in Utah, check out Apollo Burger.

Full carnivore on the hunt at a conference

This is going to be an uncertain couple of days with the food situation. Apparently the organizers of this conference are trying to be “healthy.” What that means is “as close to vegan as possible.”

Today’s snack options were fruit, some fiber-laden handmade energy bars, and/or a handful of nuts.

Even at the peak of health before I went carnivore, only one of those things would have been considered a snack!

Tomorrow’s breakfast is supposed to be a continental buffet, which means a tableful of decorative pastries but no real food. I doubt even a hard-boiled egg will be in sight.

That is why I took a trip yesterday to a nearby Whole Foods to stock up. My fridge contains the remains of a seasoning-free roast chicken and some hard-boiled eggs from the salad bar. And if I get really hungry, there are a few pop-top cans of tuna. If I were still eating dairy, I would have gotten some Babybel cheese or some similar portable cheese as well.

A couple weeks ago I decided to lock down my consumption to only meat and eggs, and I’m determined not to cheat because of a stupid conference.

This morning I went exploring around the hotel and found a Mexican grill, a Brazilian steakhouse, and a burger place that does breakfast. (And who gave me extra bacon in place of hash browns. Score.) There’s also a McDonald’s a few blocks away if things get really desperate.

I never would have done something like this when I was in the depths of my SCD low-FODMAP food elimination adventure. It would have been much too stressful and it would be difficult to take that much food on a plane.

Switching to all meat has been freeing in so many ways. (Not the least of which was me stealing a bunch of beef kebabs from the buffet tonight.)

The world isn’t set up for full carnivores–let alone aware that we exist–but it’s way easier to hustle food with this way of eating.

Want to learn about processed meat?

You know you do.

Despite being thirsty, overproduced, and a sign that the Portland hipster vibe is becoming too mainstream to function, these “ask an expert” style Epicurious vids are an interesting way to learn about food.

I just wish they would make the challenge a bit more obvious. Pedantic doesn’t belong on YouTube.

Excuse me, I just looked at the thumbnail again. If you put Buzzfeed in a blender with Bon Appetit.

ANYWAY.

I like the cured meats episode because the expert explains a lot of things. We learn how cured meats are made, and what are details to look for in each style of curing. We learn what goes into a high-end/traditional product, and what goes into a mass produced product.

After watching this, I never want to eat a supermarket processed meat product again. No wonder our bodies hate us.

Nitrates. Nitrites. Liquid smoke. Collagen casings. Fake mold made out of rice flour (!). Laquer’d sugar. All sorts of weird stuff that goes into hot dogs, or salami, or ham.

The more I go without all that stuff (I had to quit eating cured meats, with the exception of the occasional prosciutto, after I realized that the microbes in things like salami were contributing to my health problems) the more I realize that all those curing agents and stabilizers make digestion more difficult. They might even make living more difficult.

(Certainly it would be difficult to live if you’re prematurely cured, amirite.)

This won’t scare me off of cured meats forever–they are delicious and I hope to add them back to my diet someday–but it does make me more motivated to purchase only high-quality cured meats.

In fact, now I want to plan a trip to Spain to eat my bodyweight in jamón ibérico. Maybe in 5 years.

You can totally fry eggs on a Foreman grill

In this episode of “I’m a carnivore I do what I want,” I’ve decided to do all my cooking on a George Foreman grill.*

Mostly I don’t want to bother cleaning up multiple cooking surfaces, so when I break out the Foreman, I want to make as much use of it as possible. So far this has included

  1. Burgers (obviously)
  2. Shredded smoked pork that crisps up like carnitas (extra good with Hawaiian red sea salt)
  3. Fried eggs (what!?)

Hear me out: it’s not all that different from frying eggs on the stove. The Foreman grill is a heated nonstick surface, much the same as your basic frying pan. Yes, there are the grill ridges but the surface is so nonstick those don’t seem to matter.

The biggest logistical challenge is the slope of the grill top. This is great when you’re trying to drain fat off of burgers, but problematic when you’re trying to keep runny eggs in place until they start to cook and solidify.

Fortunately this one is easy to solve. Simply prop the front feet of the Foreman grill up on the fat-catcher. It doesn’t make the surface of the grill completely flat (at least for my grill), but it’s enough of a change that it does the trick. I use a spatula as a backstop to catch the small amounts of runny egg white that try to escape down the slope.

Ask me how I figured this out — and I’ll show you the entire raw egg that plopped its way into the fat-catcher.

That’s all great, I can hear you saying, but what about the top of the egg? Are you going to flip it? The answer, my friend, is no. The egg stays in place. BUT, to cook the top quicker, I lower down the top hinge until it hovers over the egg. The grill can’t close all the way, because that would smash the egg yolk, but I can get a pretty good hover going by bending down and peeking in between.

By doing this, the top hotplate acts as a salamander to help the top of the egg whites cook a little quicker and the yolk get all velvety.

We all know the final verdict is how the eggs are cooked. Not bad, as it turns out. While they’re not the best fried eggs I’ve had in my life, they’re pretty good. Not rubbery at all (but that’s because I watched them like a hawk, like one must do with fried eggs). Just don’t expect a pretty round shape, because between the grill ridges and the anti-slope spatula backsplash, that ain’t happening.

Now that I’ve cooked eggs with a Foreman grill, I feel like I can cook anything.

What’s next?

 


*That’s a lie, I also make heavy use of my crock pot.

 

My year of living carnivorously

It has been a year since I ate a vegetable.

Carrots, if I remember correctly. They were the filling for Bò Cuốn, Vietnamese beef rolls, pickled and sauteed with onions. I spent way too much time picking off the onions and the sesame seeds, as they were on the “do not eat” list at the time.

Most vegetables were, at that point.

I have a lifelong, chronic autoimmune illness called Crohn’s disease. As with all autoimmune ailments, my body decided to pick a fight with itself, and the battleground that it chose is my digestive system.

This time last year, I was at my wit’s end. I had tried almost every diet recommended for Crohn’s, with the exception of veganism, and nothing was working. I was eating off a ketogenic diet plan, hoping that the ketones would somehow kickstart healing in my body. (Spoiler: they didn’t.)

Through another round of research, I reached a crossroads: in one timeline, I would be influenced by the movie Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead and The Wahl’s Protocol and would start juicing; in another, I listened to the advice of Ted Naiman and Shawn Baker (both MDs) and just ate meat.

I cannot tell you how glad I am that I chose the carnivorous life.

While it still sounds a little crazy, because from birth we are taught that food is both plants and animals, choosing to at only animal products was one of the most freeing decisions I ever made.

Once I decided to stop eating plants, I was elated. Giddy. I didn’t have to worry about vegetables anymore. Vegetables had been giving me anxiety – which ones to eat, how to cook them, which ones I could tolerate.

And then, suddenly, I didn’t have to think about them anymore. It was amazing.

Do I miss vegetables? Not a lot. Every once in a while I wish I could eat a little asparagus or endive or avocado, but those desires pass. I’ve found that I can’t even tolerate a squeeze of lemon on shrimp or a spice rub on BBQ, so I doubt I could tolerate an entire stalk of asparagus.

My guts need a lot of TLC, and this diet has been the first one to give it to them.

Nothing has healed overnight. There are no miracle cures. But my skin is a lot clearer and better (when I’m off dairy). My guts are under control enough that I can go on a long road trip without anxiety (which was not the case a year ago).

The biggest indicator that something had changed was not even a month later, I decided to post in this blog every day for a year. I have failed at every blog previously, but this time I have succeeded. Somehow I knew that this dietary change had given me the energy that I needed.

That energy has gotten me through a stressful living situation, public humiliation thanks to leaky guts, a big move to a new town and a new job, and a minor surgery, all without causing a flare up with my gut situation.

That is kind of a big deal.

Over this past year, I’ve gone through steak phases and meatloaf phases (I’m currently in a shredded crock-pot beef and frozen burger patties on the Foreman grill phase).

I’ve eaten eggs and dairy, or not. I’ve drank coffee, or not. (I’m currently sticking with meat and water to aid healing.)

I have so much more energy, my guts are much more cooperative (although there’s still a long road of healing ahead), and so much more confidence in myself since going full carnivore.

I don’t regret it for a minute.

When you’re a carnivore, you make your own choices

ISince going carnivore, I order what I want at restaurants.

When I was on the “some plant foods are good but some are bad” diets, eating at restaurants always stressed me out. The waiter wouldn’t understand my request well enough to convey it to the chef. The chef wouldn’t care and would think I was being one of those attention-seeking people who follow whatever fad is going on. Everything might have nuts on it, or breading, or sugar, or whatever. There would be nothing on the menu in my “approved” categories.

Anxiety isn’t a good look.

I’d still eat out – I found a small group of restaurants that worked for me, and ate there almost exclusively. Burgers, pho, Mongolian grill, that type of thing.

But since going carnivore, I’ll eat anywhere. If they have a steak, or burgers, I’m there.

Sure, it was a little tough at first when I would try to be nice, order the whole plate of food, and eat around the veggies. (Don’t do that.)

And I’ve certainly run into a few places where they put extra stuff in the burger patties, like parsley or filler ingredients. (Literally that’s what they said: “It says ‘filler’ on the package.” No thanks.)

The trick is, I don’t worry about any of the sides or the vegetables. I scan the menu until I find the meat that I want to eat, and then I as the waitress something like “Hey, I’d like the ribeye. Is it possible to do just steak and salt? Nothing else on the plate.”

Most of the time, that works like a charm.

(Usually it comes out with some sort of garnish, though. It’s kind of sweet and funny how many kitchens can’t resist.)

If I’m out at a burger joint, the questions escalate from “Do you have all-beef patties?” to “Please just sell me plain patties, but stack up three of them like pancakes and put a piece of cheese (and/or slices of bacon) on top.”

Most of the time, they look at you kind of weird, but it still works.

Every once in a while there will be a place that focuses on sandwiches, or something else, and doesn’t provide a hunk-of-meat option on the menu. This is where negotiation skills come into play.

If you can see a dinner menu, look if there’s an option there, and then ask the waiter if he’ll check with the kitchen about prepping it early.

This approach takes the courage to push back against the social conventions of eating at a restaurant (YOU’LL EAT WHAT’S ON THE MENU, AND YOU’LL LIKE IT) so it may take some time to get used to, especially if you’re new to the pantheon offroad dietary choices. Negotiating with waiters is something you’ll get better at over time, and something that eventually you won’t think twice about.

I be polite but firm, mention that there’s a medical reason for the way I eat, and ask if they’ll “just check.” So far this method has been successful for me.

I’ve even gotten a restaurant manager to sell me a straight up pound of smoked pulled pork that they took out of the smoker an hour earlier. Completely off menu. We talked, agreed on a price, and went our merry ways. (And I made sure to tip well.)

Next up, I want to see if I can convince a BBQ pit to smoke me a thing or two without any rub.

THAT’s going to take some ninja-level persuasion.

In the meantime, my local grocery store smokes pork every Tuesday so I’m sitting pretty.

Trickle down design trends

This is how I know I’m getting older: I have now watched a graphic design style slide from the indie to the cool kids to the normies.

Obviously this has happened many times in history, but it was a notable moment in my own history when I stood in line at the co-op and thought to myself, That’s strange, I’ve seen that design before.

But enough of a weirdo generalist introduction. Let’s talk about magazines.

Taste of Home. It’s not a sexy magazine, or something that’s after the hot new trend. It’s a solid magazine for solid people. I think the appeal in the grocery store checkout is for moms who don’t want to think up what to cook for dinner. It’s a magazine that has a real purpose, but not much excitement.

It used to look like this:

Now that I’m learning more about copywriting and sales letters, this magazine looks like a magazine-sized visual sales letter. Bright colors, enticing taglines, the number of things you’ll find inside that is inevitably a lie (even Vogue does this). Just trying to sell more copies at the checkout, ma’am.

The design reminds me of the blocky titles of the 90s but updated with the “we can never capitalize a word, ever” attitude from the early 2000s.

Ok, but here’s the thing. Now Taste of Home looks like this:

The title has morphed into a compact logo and the lines are much cleaner. Instead of a tableaux of food and color, we have one featured dish on a plain background. The type is simple (although not simple enough imo) and even has a hint (but not too much!!1) of a handwritten feel.

Now where have I seen this magazine cover before?

Hmm.

Hmmmmmmmm.

I trust you can spot the visual similarities. This particular issue is from 2008, around the time of BA’s design update. I was a subscriber at the time, and the teardrop motif was big for a while until they started phasing in handwriting.

Points to Taste of Home for skipping directly to the handwriting trend, although it doesn’t look like there’s any actual handwriting on that cover.

I really liked this era of BA. The magazine was clean and fun, they used some visual storytelling techniques as a result of the clean design, and there were really good ideas for recipes and parties. Part of me wishes I hadn’t unsubscribed, but I moved a couple times and then I started eating only meat. No need for recipes that involve vegetables, so it wasn’t a priority.

So imagine my surprise when I found a BA at my local co-op the other day, looking like this:

(Actually, wait, first I should tell you that I was big into indie and alt magazines for a while. There’s a great local cigar shop in Portland that stocks magazines from all over the world. That’s why I recognized these design elements.)

Look at this. It’s like Kinfolk (the food) mated with The Gentlewoman (the design). Blocky type. Heavy underlines. Lots of framing devices. Negative space. Freeform typesetting. The only thing missing is Millennial Pink ™. Did I mention negative space?

Like literally this same cover was on the newstand. No taglines. No promises. No nothing. I’m interested to see how that works out. Maybe some simplicity is called for now that the expected magazine is gasping its last breath.

(After a while, I made myself stop buying magazines because I felt like the content/money ratio wasn’t good enough. I can get better facts, narrative, and motivation from the internet, although I do miss the glossy pictures that I could tear out and put on my walls.)

We shall end with my favorite edition of The Gentlewoman, featuring the ever-awesome Angela Lansbury wearing the ever-problematic Terry Richardson’s glasses. This is the one with the blocky type, the framing, and – yes – the pink.

The Gentlewoman is one of those magazines that reacts against the “fast/cheap/short” model of magazine journalism by doing long-form interviews with badass ladies and lots of minimalist-traditional fashion. Always a little too rich for my blood, but I appreciated how they talked to actual real women who work for a living. It was the “cool” fashion magazine, the kind that eventually make their way into Anthropologie stores because of their good aesthetics.

Is The Gentlewoman in danger of losing its spot at the top of the design food chain? BA is nipping at its heels.

My instinct says that there’s a new offroad thinking-woman’s fashion magazine in town, but I don’t know what it is.

If you have any idea of what that might be, please let me know.

I will tell you the secret of perfect shredded beef

What does a carnivore do when she’s had minor oral surgery, under strict orders to eat nothing but soft foods? Why, make shredded beef, of course!

(There’s only so many dishes of scrambled eggs one can eat.)

This recipe is based on one of my favorite dishes in the entire world, Nom Nom Paleo’s Crock Pot Kalua Pig.

Easy Shredded Beef

Ingredients:

  • 1 beef roast, preferably over 3 lbs. I’m not sure that the cut matters all too much, but for the record I prefer a cross-rib roast over a chuck roast.
  • 1.5 tsp salt (or maybe less). You really don’t want too much.
  • NO LIQUID. None. Not even a little bit.

Method:

Plunk your roast into the crock pot. Sprinkle it evenly on all sides with the salt. You seriously want just a sprinkle, since the salt will concentrate during the cook time. Put the lid on the crock pot, and set it to low if it’ll cook all day or high if you’re impatient.

5 – 9 hours later, you’ll have a beautiful roast swimming in its own jus. Grab a pair of tongs and poke your roast; if it falls apart immediately, it’s done. Give the beef a couple of stirs to “shred” it into the jus. I’m sure you could skip this step, but I then turn the crock pot down to warm and let the beef stew in its own juices for a couple minutes. At this point, you can add additional salt to taste, if needed.

Voila: super-easy shredded beef with two ingredients.

I’m convinced that this recipe is as good as it is because of the lack of added liquids, which would dilute the natural juices exuded by the roast as it cooks. Unlike the Kalua Pig recipe, the amount of juice from a beef roast is exactly the amount needed to season and moisten the shredded beef. Such a lovely synergy.

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