Heya!

This is because there are two parts to memories - their encoding and their recall. The encoding determines their availability, their recall determines their accessibility. The reason why trauma memory and childhood amnesia are different is in this distinction. Trauma memory is often encoded differently, bypassing to the limbic system where it is stored as intrinsic memory. It can’t be recalled because it was never encoded. Childhood amnesia, however, seems to indicate that the memories are encoded, but we lose access to them as we age. This is most likely due to the development of brain structures that fundamentally change our encoding and recall of memory as we get older.

I am a pretty competent cook, so don't worry about that bit. I just want to know if this dish sounds familiar, so someone can fill me in on the parts I don't remember. It's a chicken dish made with flat chicken cutlets. I think she used to hammer them a bit with a kitchen mallet, dredge them in flour, and pan fry them in a little butter so they would brown nicely. The sauce is the part I am a little lost about. She used white wine (probably chardonnay) and sour cream, that part I am sure of. There were canned peaches too, which were slightly browned and served on top. I'm sure there was something more to it than that, any thoughts? The flavor was tangy, not particularly sweet except for the peaches, and the sauce was opaque and kind of a beige color. Does this sound like a dish you are aware of? While her food was great, her dishes were usually pretty simple. It is likely that this is not something she invented herself, but it might be something that she simplified. Does anyone know what this is or what it is called so I can look it up and try and get it right? She used to serve it with grilled zucchini brushed with garlic butter. Thank you. Edit -- I am blown away with how helpful and kind you all have been. I have taken little hints from each of your posts and a lot of them have jogged my memory. I think some sort of composite from these suggestions will produce something close. I am going to try to make it when I have the chance, and I will update when I do. Thank you, reddit. <3

Update 6 days later:

My mom passed away a few years ago. I needed help trying to recreate a chicken recipe of hers that I have been craving, because I could only remember a few ingredients. You amazing people of r/recipes came through and gave me so many wonderful suggestions. With a mix of all your advice, I made it tonight. I was nervous as I was putting it together. I felt like there had to be something more to it, but I went with using just the ingredients I knew (as suggested by Ethril). I felt like there was something I was forgetting. Something about brown specks in the sauce. I went with it anyway, and figured I would know what to add at the end by taste. I took chicken cutlets and hammered them flat. Dredged in flour and sauteed in butter (high heat). I burned the butter a little. I remembered my mom saying that butter is the one thing that is ok to burn (as long as it is not smoking furiously) so I left it alone, and smiled at the memory. I was pleased to see the chicken brown to the color I remember. When I flipped the chicken I added the zucchini spears and browned those too. When the chicken was done (just a couple minutes) I set it aside and covered it in tinfoil to keep it warm, then turned the zucchini and browned the peaches in the same pan. It only took a few minutes to brown everything and when the zucchini and peaches were done I put them aside with the chicken. I deglazed the empty pan with chardonnay. My mom wasn't a big wine person, so I went with the cheapest they had. I suddenly remembered that sound the wine would make when it hit the hot pan, a huge hiss. Mom used to tell me to step back before she poured it in, because it would splash a little. I felt like I was nine years old again. I added three big dollops of sour cream and dissolved it in the hot wine. I didn't know what I was going to do next, this was all I had planned. Then I saw the little brown flecks come up. It was that burned butter! I just about cried. I tasted it, and suddenly in my mind I was standing in her kitchen as a kid watching her cook. This was it. It was that simple. I added a couple spoonfuls of the liquid from the canned peaches to take away a little of the wine's tartness, and the sauce was perfect. Just like she used to make. Keep in mind that I am no food stylist, but I assure you that this tasted 10x better than it looks: http://i.imgur.com/Qgk6u.jpg The whole thing took less than 20 minutes to make. And I fucking nailed it. Thank you so, so much reddit! You brought me back, and I love you. The smell is still lingering in the house.

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The consumer electronics industry built its current business model around batteries that degrade, cannot be replaced at home, and create a natural upgrade cycle every two to three years. The EU just legislated that model out of existence in the world's largest regulatory market.

Apple, Samsung, and every other manufacturer now faces a choice between redesigning their devices for the European market or accepting that their current hardware architecture is no longer legally sellable there.

See, we were talking about how movies are pretend and how in real life, animals don’t talk. I mentioned that there are some birds who talk a little bit, but not like the animals in movies, and she just looked at me like “???”

So I informed her that some kinds of parrots can copy sounds that people make, and can learn how to say words. I thought this would give her a giggle, as fun new facts often do, but she was just deeply perplexed and a little worried about this.

“Birds can talk?” “Do they ask questions?” “What do they say?” Why do they talk?” “Do chickens talk?” “What about Blue Jays?” “Why do some birds talk?” “How do they talk?” “Birds TALK???”

We showed her a video of a parrot doing the “Hello, pretty bird, give a kiss” thing, and she was dead silent the whole time, hugging her comfort pillow with her knees to her chest. We asked if she wanted us to turn it off, and she shook her head. But we also asked if she wanted to see another one, and she shook her head even harder.

I don’t know why it has distressed her so greatly to learn that some birds can mimic human speech; but then again, I don’t know why it doesn’t distress the rest of us more to know that some birds can mimic human speech.

But more importantly they love the sound of human laughter. No one knows why. But it is totally, 100% possible, and it happens to this day, to walk along the paths in the Black Forest and suddenly hear a strange kind of giggling sound, or maybe even a very clear, definitely human sounding “hello?” “Hiiiii!” Or “let’s go!”.

However, it takes a lot of practice for them to copy sounds as perfectly as they do, so you’re equally likely to hear something that definitely sounds human-like, but the words make no sense and the sound is unlike any language you know.

Ravens at the Tower of London do this all the time. Theyre pretty sociable with humans though, so they do it quite openly. I have seen videos of people, mostly Americans, look absolutely spooked out of their skins when a big ol’ raven (mind ye, these are birds that are 2 feet tall with a 5 foot wingspan) comes waltzing up on the deck and starts talking to them.

And ravens, especially the ones there that have been bred and raised by humans for centuries, don’t just imitate - they have one of the same language processing genes we do, and they understand the way a toddler might that things, places, and individuals have names, and can string together basic sentences much like an african grey.

I know because I used to work with one, Darlene, who knew, quite well, what she wanted and how to ask for it. If you were preparing her breakfast, she would hop on up and investigate. She used to be an illegal pet, and had been taught “manners”. That is to say, if she went for something and you told her, sternly, “mind your manners missy!” She would stop, look at you, perhaps for up to a minute, and then point with her beak to what she wanted. If that did not work, she would ask, in plain English, “grape?” Or “Darl have grape?” And lord help you if you gave her anything less than what she asked for. She would throw it at you, and try to bite you, sometimes while saying “No!” In the same tone as I imagine she was reprimanded in her home.

back then i made a bunch of these but by now i lost the pic and dont know how to find the original post anymore

so anyway here is the diagram for anyone else who is interested!!

this requires pretty big carboard pieces, if you have a really big box or something you can make it from one piece, but if you don't, you can also just make each of the pieces individually and then tape them together

and then in the end you put it together like this!!

and then when you make a bunch you can put them all next to each other and stack your books like crazy