I just can't seem to get the pictures from our visit this weekend transferred onto the computer and put together into a blog, so that's still to come. Although I don't know when.
Yesterday I noticed that the date was May 28th. And that I'm supposed to have 24 hours of CPE (Continuing Professional Education) completed by June 1st for maintaining my CPA license, which I would like to sport for a few more years since I worked so ridiculously hard to earn it, not to mention all the $$ spent on the stupid test... Unfortunately, by yesterday I only had 12 hours completed. I also got an invitation to attend a premiere of a movie called "Nourish" over in Berkeley. I had tried to RVSP to the event about a month ago, but was informed that it was all sold out. Yesterday, I got a notice that a few people had cancelled and that I could bring myself and a guest, if I wanted to. There was to be a wine and cheese reception before-hand, the movie and then a dessert and wine reception after the movie. So, I was torn. Should I be a good, respectable CPA and work hard to finish my CPE? Or should I play hookie from the CPE for another day (I've already procrastinated for an entire year, after all) and go play in Berkeley?
I compromised. I rushed through one of my self-study courses at lunchtime, skimmed all 91 pages of the text, and then rushed through the test, which was open-book. So, I aced it. :) 95%. And I argue that the 5% missed is due to the fact that I was just trying to get through the test and not checking my answers. (I only needed a 70% to pass, for goodness sake) So, with 8 more credits under my belt, I allowed myself to put the other self-study course (10 credits) off until tomorrow, and go play.
My friend Linnea and I BART-ed over to Berkeley, missed our stop, and BART-ed back in the other direction. We had a lovely dinner of burritos and tostadas at "Cancun", and then headed to the wine and cheese reception at the Brower Center. I asked the bartend which wine she recommended and she asked what I was looking for. Fruity, of course... She poured me a Merlot (which I don't usually like) and it was FANTASTIC!! I guess that's what you get when you spend more than $3 on a bottle of wine. Then we sampled the hoers d-ouvres (Also very yummy) and perused the displays. One of the displays was for an organization called Heifer International, which gives animals to people in need. Sounds a little strange, but wait for it - so you buy a sheep for a family, and that sheep produces the wool that the family can then sell for income. Cows = milk and ploughing power, Goats = milk, bunny rabits = Angora bunny rabbit fur and Llamas = ? Wait, let me check the brochure. Llamas = wool and packing capabilities. So you can either "buy" the animal outright, or buy a "share" of an animal. For $5,000, you can buy an "ark", which is two of every animal. And, AND, they send all the animals pregnant and, as a condition of the gift, the recipient must give the baby to one of their neighbors when it is born. Kind of a cool idea, right?
So then we watched the movie. The organization WorldLink is starting a new initiative, called Nourish, to "open a broad public conversation about our food system that encourages citizen engagement, particularly among young people and families." This includes many different types of media - website, TV, educational curriculum, etc. One of the ways that they are trying to reach the public is through a 30-minute DVD. This is the movie that we were there to watch.
Here is a link to the trailer for the movie: http://www.nourishlife.org/videos.html
And, on the Nourish website, there are also 4-5 other short films made for the initiative as well. All in all, most of the movie was stuff that I had heard already, but it's always good to be reminded. It's so easy to get comfortable, complacent, when so many parts of our society are dragging you down into the fast-food complex. There's not that much out there bombarding you to eat leafy greens, vegetables, and cut down on sugar. So, any time you can stop and re-focus, it's good.
The real treat was the panel discussion afterwards, which featured Nigel Walker, the owner/farmer of Eatwell Farms, Nadine Burke, a pediatrician and Bryant Terry, a chef and food activist. A lively and informative discussion was underway right off the bat, with people asking really challenging questions about how the whole local/sustainable/organic movement will manifest itself. The panel members really thought about their answers and answered very honestly and passionately. When one audience member asked about the lack of people going into the farming profession these days and if there will be enough farmer's to sustain the movement, Nigel Walker agreed that this was a challenge and mentioned that it's not really a lucrative or appealing profession - he is only 50 yrs. old, but is considered a young farmer. And, at the age of 50, he already has half a million dollars in debt. It will probably only grow. And he is considered one of the "successful" organic farmers.
We didn't stick around for the dessert afterwards, as I was supposed to be getting home to my accounting texts (that didn't happen), although the wine was calling pretty loudly. But the evening was thoroughly enjoyable and entertaining and informational. I'm glad that I decided to play.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Gems from a 4-year old
My Mom, Dad, Sister and 4-year old nephew visited us in San Francisco and while I hope to write more extensively about their visit, I wanted to relate one little nugget of Devin's experience here.
We picked Chelsea and Devin up from the airport on Saturday afternoon and were going to stop briefly back at my apartment to drop some stuff off before heading out to ride public transportation (cable car, MUNI trains, etc.). We came to the front door of our building, and I opened the door to let Devin into the entry-way, which happens to be a dingy, dimly lit, 8 foot by about 20 foot corridor leading to a flight of stairs. He took two steps in, paused, and said, "This is nice... Where's the living room?"
Ah, yes, that is the question...
We picked Chelsea and Devin up from the airport on Saturday afternoon and were going to stop briefly back at my apartment to drop some stuff off before heading out to ride public transportation (cable car, MUNI trains, etc.). We came to the front door of our building, and I opened the door to let Devin into the entry-way, which happens to be a dingy, dimly lit, 8 foot by about 20 foot corridor leading to a flight of stairs. He took two steps in, paused, and said, "This is nice... Where's the living room?"
Ah, yes, that is the question...
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
My Garden is Magic
So, little did I know when I first got my plot that I was getting a magic garden. I slunk over to my garden last night after work, with my head hanging low, just knowing that everything in it would be wilted, brown, shriveled and dying from our heat wave last weekend. When I failed my maternal instinct test and instead of lovingly watering and caring for my baby plants, I went to the beach instead.
I put off the moment of reckoning a little bit longer by stopping by the local Crossroads before heading up to the garden, and found 4 super-cute shirts for only $36. I heart Crossroads. But, finally, it was time to face the music. But, when I crossed the garden to my little plot, instead of deep, dark foreboding music - it was frisky, lively, happy healthy music - my plants looked FANTASTIC!! The lettuce was bigger and leafier than it was last time, my cilantro is growing like gangbusters and the peas were doubled in size. Apparently, I have somehow inherited a garden plot that loves neglect, and thrives on being thirsty and water-starved. IT'S THE PERFECT GARDEN FOR ME. The only downside was that the baby plants that I started a few weeks ago - carrots, parsley, broccolini, and onions, were not really so happy. I guess the magic can only do so much. Baby plants need water. period. So, I will probably re-plant those later this week. But, I brought home three more heads of beautiful red butterhead lettuce and a huge handful of cilantro. And there is more where that came from. There is something so wonderful about eating food that you (or nature, with no help from you at all) grew and nurtured from just a baby seed. Delicious.
After stalling at Crossroads for an hour before getting to the garden, and after the 45 minute bus-ride home, I didn't get home until 8:15 and by that time I was totally starving. The perfect antidote to starving? Potato-Leek soup. I know I have sung the praises of this soup before on the blog and I'm going to do it again. Wonderful, WONDERFUL soup. It tastes like a delicious baked potato with lots and lots of butter. It would probably be even more fantastic with fresh chives and some bacon sprinkled across the top. It just perfectly hit the spot - it took a while to simmer and then to cook after I stirred in the cream, but once I sat down with a bowl full and some crusty bread, it was a little slice of food heaven. I settled in and watched "The Kennedys" on American Experience. I have a weird fascination with the entire Kennedy family and all of their exploits. They were just such an interesting group of people.
And, AND - I didn't even have to share any of the soup with Neil. He was out galavanting about the town with friends, celebrating their successful installation of the Vernissage show and didn't come home until 1:00. That's fine - no soup for you.
Oh yeah - this morning, when I regaled Neil with tales of my magic garden, he brought me down in one sentence by saying, "maybe someone watered it for you." Oh... yeah. maybe.
I put off the moment of reckoning a little bit longer by stopping by the local Crossroads before heading up to the garden, and found 4 super-cute shirts for only $36. I heart Crossroads. But, finally, it was time to face the music. But, when I crossed the garden to my little plot, instead of deep, dark foreboding music - it was frisky, lively, happy healthy music - my plants looked FANTASTIC!! The lettuce was bigger and leafier than it was last time, my cilantro is growing like gangbusters and the peas were doubled in size. Apparently, I have somehow inherited a garden plot that loves neglect, and thrives on being thirsty and water-starved. IT'S THE PERFECT GARDEN FOR ME. The only downside was that the baby plants that I started a few weeks ago - carrots, parsley, broccolini, and onions, were not really so happy. I guess the magic can only do so much. Baby plants need water. period. So, I will probably re-plant those later this week. But, I brought home three more heads of beautiful red butterhead lettuce and a huge handful of cilantro. And there is more where that came from. There is something so wonderful about eating food that you (or nature, with no help from you at all) grew and nurtured from just a baby seed. Delicious.
After stalling at Crossroads for an hour before getting to the garden, and after the 45 minute bus-ride home, I didn't get home until 8:15 and by that time I was totally starving. The perfect antidote to starving? Potato-Leek soup. I know I have sung the praises of this soup before on the blog and I'm going to do it again. Wonderful, WONDERFUL soup. It tastes like a delicious baked potato with lots and lots of butter. It would probably be even more fantastic with fresh chives and some bacon sprinkled across the top. It just perfectly hit the spot - it took a while to simmer and then to cook after I stirred in the cream, but once I sat down with a bowl full and some crusty bread, it was a little slice of food heaven. I settled in and watched "The Kennedys" on American Experience. I have a weird fascination with the entire Kennedy family and all of their exploits. They were just such an interesting group of people.
And, AND - I didn't even have to share any of the soup with Neil. He was out galavanting about the town with friends, celebrating their successful installation of the Vernissage show and didn't come home until 1:00. That's fine - no soup for you.
Oh yeah - this morning, when I regaled Neil with tales of my magic garden, he brought me down in one sentence by saying, "maybe someone watered it for you." Oh... yeah. maybe.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Summer weekend, sunburns and all...
Vernissage has come and gone now and, as predicted, I will most definitely have to return to Fort Mason to actually look at the art. Although the warehouse was huge, the number of people attending the reception was even huge-er(?) and it was nearly impossible to concentrate on anything. Not to mention the elbow-throwing struggle it took to get anywhere near the food. The first time through the line, I was polite and took just one of each item. The second time through, I had learned my lesson and piled my plate as high as I could get it. After being pushed and shoved and cut in front of, there was no going back a third time. But there was excitement in the air and a lot of really really good art, from what I managed to see.
Pre-Vernissage, our house was used for a staging area for everyone to get "ready" for the event. Unfortunately, there was no advance notice that this would be happening, and our house was a complete and total pigsty. It's a fact that I only really ever clean my house when I know people will be coming over. The rest of the time, I clean just enough to keep living there without being completely disgusted. I know, it's shameful. But I just hate cleaning - it's not how I want to spend my time. Everyone arrived way before I got home from work, too, so I had to depend on Neil to do a hasty clean. Which meant that he just threw everything into the closet. It worked. No one made any mention of the 1/4-inch thick layer of dust on the bookshelves and end tables, so it must not have been too big of a deal.
Interestingly, Neil's closest friends that he has made at SFAI are all girls, so there were 5 girls plus Neil all primping and preening in our apartment. Vernissage ending up being a chance for everyone to dress up, so there was fancy dresses and makeup and hairdryers. Neil fit right in, getting clothes advice from the girls.
Then, it was off to the show to throw elbows around the food table, and congratulate all the graduates on making it through to the end. At 9:00 on the dot, they ran out of alcohol, which pretty much shut the reception down. I think this was actually the plan. So we headed off to the "after-party". Unfortunately, I had made the extremely unwise decision to wear the pair of Payless high heels that I had bought for Vegas and only worn once. The super-strappy heels that pinch my feet in about 15 places. Not to mention the pain in the balls of my feet from being in heels. My feet are extremely accustomed to being in flat shoes, and objected strongly to being at a steep angle all night long. Of course getting to the after-party meant walking about 10-15 blocks. Oh, the pain. By the time we actually made it to the club, I was almost completely incapacitated. And when we finally made it inside the club, we realized that about 500 people were trying to squeeze into a room made for about 50. It was ridiculous! At one point I got bumped into and thought I might fall over for a second, but then I realized that wasn't possible - there was no space to fall over in. I just sort of tipped over a few inches onto the people right behind me.
So, as soon as we could, we squeezed back out of the club and headed to another bar for the rest of the night. About 12:00, I finally had enough and called it a night. Clubs/Bars are just really not my thing. I can't hear a word anyone is saying, and so I feel like I just sit in my little bubble, alone, head bobbing to the music. By that time, however, my feet had had it - there was no way I could take another step in those shoes. So I took my shoes off, and walked the 10 blocks home barefoot. Even having seen how those sidewalks look in broad daylight, and knowing what I was probably walking in, it didn't matter. There was no way I could take another step in those heels.
Neil finally straggled in around 1:30. An early night for him, lately.
Saturday dawned bright and SUPER hot! At 11:00 when I left for the market, it was already 70 degrees. Summer continues. There were a few nice surprises at the market - peaches and blueberries!! And red onions, cucumbers, zucchinis and squash. The market is starting to explode with options - it's almost too much. I want to bring everything home. But then half of it would rot. By the time I got home from the market, Neil had returned from watching all of his friends graduate, and we were both ready for a nap. It was the perfect nap conditions - all the windows open, warm, humid air streaming in, and the sounds of summer drifting through the apartment - the sounds of the baseball game in the park, people in their backyards enjoying the sun, the call of the parrots and other birds. We slept for two hours.
After naptime, we headed to Alamo Square Park for a potluck/barbeque with a bunch of the people who graduated. It ended up being less of a barbeque and more of a potato chip potluck - the only food there was potato chips. But it was a perfect evening for sitting in the shade in the park with nice people, just hanging out. For those of you not familiar with San Francisco, Alamo Square Park is the park with the view of the "Painted Ladies" - the row of Victorian Houses with the city in the background made famous in such pop-culture classics as Full House.
Sunday was a pretty laid-back day as well. Neil was feeling generally down in the dumps. I think because a bunch of his friends have graduated and are probably leaving the City, and things are changing and he probably realizes that he only has a year of the good life left now. Whatever the reason, though, he was pretty blue. So, to counteract that, I dragged him out into the sun. We headed down to the beach at Crissy Field. There's a nice wide, sandy swath next to the Bay, so it's calmer waters, with no waves. We basked in the sun and watched the kite-boarders and sail boats. Unfortunately, we basked a little bit too much in the sun and Neil got completely toasted. Apparently, he takes a little while to "develop" his redness, because it didn't look bad at all when we were out in the sun. Only when we got back to the house after eating lunch did he turn beet-red. Poor guy
Pre-Vernissage, our house was used for a staging area for everyone to get "ready" for the event. Unfortunately, there was no advance notice that this would be happening, and our house was a complete and total pigsty. It's a fact that I only really ever clean my house when I know people will be coming over. The rest of the time, I clean just enough to keep living there without being completely disgusted. I know, it's shameful. But I just hate cleaning - it's not how I want to spend my time. Everyone arrived way before I got home from work, too, so I had to depend on Neil to do a hasty clean. Which meant that he just threw everything into the closet. It worked. No one made any mention of the 1/4-inch thick layer of dust on the bookshelves and end tables, so it must not have been too big of a deal.
Interestingly, Neil's closest friends that he has made at SFAI are all girls, so there were 5 girls plus Neil all primping and preening in our apartment. Vernissage ending up being a chance for everyone to dress up, so there was fancy dresses and makeup and hairdryers. Neil fit right in, getting clothes advice from the girls.
Then, it was off to the show to throw elbows around the food table, and congratulate all the graduates on making it through to the end. At 9:00 on the dot, they ran out of alcohol, which pretty much shut the reception down. I think this was actually the plan. So we headed off to the "after-party". Unfortunately, I had made the extremely unwise decision to wear the pair of Payless high heels that I had bought for Vegas and only worn once. The super-strappy heels that pinch my feet in about 15 places. Not to mention the pain in the balls of my feet from being in heels. My feet are extremely accustomed to being in flat shoes, and objected strongly to being at a steep angle all night long. Of course getting to the after-party meant walking about 10-15 blocks. Oh, the pain. By the time we actually made it to the club, I was almost completely incapacitated. And when we finally made it inside the club, we realized that about 500 people were trying to squeeze into a room made for about 50. It was ridiculous! At one point I got bumped into and thought I might fall over for a second, but then I realized that wasn't possible - there was no space to fall over in. I just sort of tipped over a few inches onto the people right behind me.
So, as soon as we could, we squeezed back out of the club and headed to another bar for the rest of the night. About 12:00, I finally had enough and called it a night. Clubs/Bars are just really not my thing. I can't hear a word anyone is saying, and so I feel like I just sit in my little bubble, alone, head bobbing to the music. By that time, however, my feet had had it - there was no way I could take another step in those shoes. So I took my shoes off, and walked the 10 blocks home barefoot. Even having seen how those sidewalks look in broad daylight, and knowing what I was probably walking in, it didn't matter. There was no way I could take another step in those heels.
Neil finally straggled in around 1:30. An early night for him, lately.
Saturday dawned bright and SUPER hot! At 11:00 when I left for the market, it was already 70 degrees. Summer continues. There were a few nice surprises at the market - peaches and blueberries!! And red onions, cucumbers, zucchinis and squash. The market is starting to explode with options - it's almost too much. I want to bring everything home. But then half of it would rot. By the time I got home from the market, Neil had returned from watching all of his friends graduate, and we were both ready for a nap. It was the perfect nap conditions - all the windows open, warm, humid air streaming in, and the sounds of summer drifting through the apartment - the sounds of the baseball game in the park, people in their backyards enjoying the sun, the call of the parrots and other birds. We slept for two hours.
After naptime, we headed to Alamo Square Park for a potluck/barbeque with a bunch of the people who graduated. It ended up being less of a barbeque and more of a potato chip potluck - the only food there was potato chips. But it was a perfect evening for sitting in the shade in the park with nice people, just hanging out. For those of you not familiar with San Francisco, Alamo Square Park is the park with the view of the "Painted Ladies" - the row of Victorian Houses with the city in the background made famous in such pop-culture classics as Full House.
Sunday was a pretty laid-back day as well. Neil was feeling generally down in the dumps. I think because a bunch of his friends have graduated and are probably leaving the City, and things are changing and he probably realizes that he only has a year of the good life left now. Whatever the reason, though, he was pretty blue. So, to counteract that, I dragged him out into the sun. We headed down to the beach at Crissy Field. There's a nice wide, sandy swath next to the Bay, so it's calmer waters, with no waves. We basked in the sun and watched the kite-boarders and sail boats. Unfortunately, we basked a little bit too much in the sun and Neil got completely toasted. Apparently, he takes a little while to "develop" his redness, because it didn't look bad at all when we were out in the sun. Only when we got back to the house after eating lunch did he turn beet-red. Poor guyAfter all the hard work of sitting on the beach, needless to say, we were ready for another nap. Another lovely, soothing, perfect 2 hour nap.
Then, while making dinner and doing the laundry, I learned a valuable lesson. Never, ever believe that you have time to run to the laundrymat and put the wet clothes in the dryer while you are cooking pasta. You WILL overcook the pasta. Everything was going fine - I had all of the clothes moved over from the washers to the stacked dryers in about 4-5 minutes. Then I started to put the quarters in. And of course, one of the machines got jammed and stole my quarter. I proceeded to move the clothes to the dryer right below it, and as soon as I got all the wet clothes moved, realized that the dryers are stacked - the top and bottom use the same change slot. BAH! So by the time I had moved the clothes to their third dryer of the evening, and got it running, I was well past the 12 minutes it takes to boil pasta. And dined on a lovely meal of big, mushy rotini. Yummm. Neil declined to eat dinner, not being such a fan of pasta anyways.
Looking back on the weekend, it was pretty low-key, laid back, with lots of napping. Not such a bad thing, I guess, but with the sunny, warm weather, I feel like somehow we should have accomplished more.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Summertime...and the livin's easy
Today is a summer day in San Francisco. I've decided that there is not really any such thing as a summer "season" in San Francisco, there are just a number of summer-like days that get sprinkled randomly throughout the year. So December 14th, when it was 85 degrees, that was summer. Today, when it is 70 with a light, cool breeze coming off the Bay, it is summer. Tomorrow might be winter again, or spring, or fall...you just never know. But actually, it looks like summer will stick around at least through the weekend - I have seen forecasted temps of 88. And I like it. Might be the time to be spontaneous and head to the beach! Because when you never know when summer might strike, you have to be ready to take advantage of it when it does!
Tonight is "Vernissage" which is French for, "Graduating SFAI Graduate Students Final Art Show". Actually, the real French for that would be, "Graduation SFAI Étudiant de troisième cycle exposition d'art finale" (thanks to Yahoo for the translation) or something like that. "Vernissage" rolls off the tongue a tad bit nicer. Interestingly, when I asked for the translation of Vernissage from French to English, it spit out the word "Varnishing". Hmm... Not nearly as fancy sounding, or applicable in any way, in English.
All appx. 100 graduating students will have all of their final pieces displayed in one huge warehouse down at Fort Mason (which is, if you recall, delightfully close to our house). From 5:00-7:00 tonight is the opening reception that you have to buy tickets to get into. I couldn't ever find a listed price for the tickets anywhere, but Neil assures me it's for the high rollers. I seem to recall him saying something about $800 a ticket. The rest of us peasants, who can't afford to pay that kind of moola to look at art will attend the reception from 7:00 - 9:00. Which hopefully will feature some excellent wine and hoer d'ouvres. It's always hard to look at art during an opening, everyone is schmoozing and drinking and yapping, and blocking the art. It's just an excuse for a big party. So I'll probably have to go back later to actually see the work.
Then, THEN, because I am the wife of a current grad student, this makes me eligible to attend the VERY exclusive after-party. Actually, I have absolutely no idea whether or not it is exclusive, but it's in OUR NEIGHBORHOOD!! And the reason I am so excited about this is that nothing ever happens in our neighborhood. None of our friends live there, events always happen elsewhere - we're always trekking all around the city to get to stuff. Well, this time, it came to us! Which means that I can stumble home at 11:30 ( hehe - yes I am 30 now) and only have to stumble for 6-8 blocks, instead of catching two buses and a train and arriving home an hour later. Fantastic. So, that will be interesting and probably a little crazy. 100 grad students who have had their nose to the grindstone for the past two years, finally cutting loose.
This weekend holds no firm plans whatsoever, which is kind of nice. Tomorrow there is the market and then my garden will need watering - beyond that, I might just pull up a patch of grass and enjoy the 87 degree weather we are scheduled to have. On Sunday, there's an event here in the City called Bay to Breakers - which is basically a 12K run/walk from the Bay side of the City to the Ocean. It's been going on for 98 years now, and has morphed (from what I understand) from just a race, to an all-out party. People dress up in costumes (San Franciscoites are always looking for an excuse to dress up in costume), there are floats, a lot of alcohol is consumed, and basically it's just one big party from the Bay to the Beach. Neil and I haven't completely decided whether or not to do it. If we do, we will probably join a group that is going to be dressing up in a Kentucky Derby theme - big hats and frilly dresses and whatnot. I've been suggesting that Neil also do a frilly dress and big hat, but he is resisting. I think he is envisioning old Kentucky gentleman, with tweed and a bowler hat. We'll see. However, it is still 12K, which is a long long way, and it's supposed to be 92 degrees in the City on Sunday - which is pretty unheard of here, really. So a beach somewhere is looking pretty tempting, also. I guess we'll see what wins out in the end, excercise or sloth. :)
Neil has been helping other students hang the show at Fort Mason, and so, consequently, I haven't been seeing much of him the last few days. Last night he came home at 2:00am. And I'm not usually very motivated to cook when he is not around to cook for. For example, last night, after our oyster bar get-together after work, I heated up some old Pad Thai in the micro, poached two eggs and finished it off with a large slice of 5-day old birthday cake. Not the most well-rounded meal. But, on Wednesday, I was just craving a good, home-cooked, healthy meal. So I put in the effort and had Lime-Ginger Salmon, Multi-grain pilaf with dried cherries and sauteed asparagus with lemon. It was just what the doctor ordered - my body thanked me profusely for giving it food it could do something with. Not to mention totally delicious.
So, here is the Ginger-Lime Salmon recipe. For all to enjoy... And if it is summer anywhere else in the country today, this would be a perfect dish!
Ginger-Lime Salmon
from Food to Live By
grated zest of 1 lime
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
1 Tbl. fresh ginger (or 1-2 tsp. from a jar)
4.5 tsp. soy sauce
2 Tbl. canola oil
1 Tbl. sesame oil
1/4 cup fresh minced cilantro
4 salmon filets
1. Position a rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat the oven to 500F.
2. Combine the lime zest and juice, shallots, ginger, soy sauce, canola oil, sesame oil, and 2 Tbl. of the cilantro, if using, in a shallow baking dish just large enough to comfortably hold the salmon filets in a single layer. Add the filets and turn them to coat all over, then arrange them skin side down, if any.
3. Bake the salmon filets, without turning, until the fish is just firm to the touch and the interior is nearly opaque but still moist, 6-12 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fish.
4. Transfer the salmon filets to plates, drizzle some of the sauce from the pan over them, and garnish with the remaining 2 Tbl. of cilantro, if using.
Tonight is "Vernissage" which is French for, "Graduating SFAI Graduate Students Final Art Show". Actually, the real French for that would be, "Graduation SFAI Étudiant de troisième cycle exposition d'art finale" (thanks to Yahoo for the translation) or something like that. "Vernissage" rolls off the tongue a tad bit nicer. Interestingly, when I asked for the translation of Vernissage from French to English, it spit out the word "Varnishing". Hmm... Not nearly as fancy sounding, or applicable in any way, in English.
All appx. 100 graduating students will have all of their final pieces displayed in one huge warehouse down at Fort Mason (which is, if you recall, delightfully close to our house). From 5:00-7:00 tonight is the opening reception that you have to buy tickets to get into. I couldn't ever find a listed price for the tickets anywhere, but Neil assures me it's for the high rollers. I seem to recall him saying something about $800 a ticket. The rest of us peasants, who can't afford to pay that kind of moola to look at art will attend the reception from 7:00 - 9:00. Which hopefully will feature some excellent wine and hoer d'ouvres. It's always hard to look at art during an opening, everyone is schmoozing and drinking and yapping, and blocking the art. It's just an excuse for a big party. So I'll probably have to go back later to actually see the work.
Then, THEN, because I am the wife of a current grad student, this makes me eligible to attend the VERY exclusive after-party. Actually, I have absolutely no idea whether or not it is exclusive, but it's in OUR NEIGHBORHOOD!! And the reason I am so excited about this is that nothing ever happens in our neighborhood. None of our friends live there, events always happen elsewhere - we're always trekking all around the city to get to stuff. Well, this time, it came to us! Which means that I can stumble home at 11:30 ( hehe - yes I am 30 now) and only have to stumble for 6-8 blocks, instead of catching two buses and a train and arriving home an hour later. Fantastic. So, that will be interesting and probably a little crazy. 100 grad students who have had their nose to the grindstone for the past two years, finally cutting loose.
This weekend holds no firm plans whatsoever, which is kind of nice. Tomorrow there is the market and then my garden will need watering - beyond that, I might just pull up a patch of grass and enjoy the 87 degree weather we are scheduled to have. On Sunday, there's an event here in the City called Bay to Breakers - which is basically a 12K run/walk from the Bay side of the City to the Ocean. It's been going on for 98 years now, and has morphed (from what I understand) from just a race, to an all-out party. People dress up in costumes (San Franciscoites are always looking for an excuse to dress up in costume), there are floats, a lot of alcohol is consumed, and basically it's just one big party from the Bay to the Beach. Neil and I haven't completely decided whether or not to do it. If we do, we will probably join a group that is going to be dressing up in a Kentucky Derby theme - big hats and frilly dresses and whatnot. I've been suggesting that Neil also do a frilly dress and big hat, but he is resisting. I think he is envisioning old Kentucky gentleman, with tweed and a bowler hat. We'll see. However, it is still 12K, which is a long long way, and it's supposed to be 92 degrees in the City on Sunday - which is pretty unheard of here, really. So a beach somewhere is looking pretty tempting, also. I guess we'll see what wins out in the end, excercise or sloth. :)
Neil has been helping other students hang the show at Fort Mason, and so, consequently, I haven't been seeing much of him the last few days. Last night he came home at 2:00am. And I'm not usually very motivated to cook when he is not around to cook for. For example, last night, after our oyster bar get-together after work, I heated up some old Pad Thai in the micro, poached two eggs and finished it off with a large slice of 5-day old birthday cake. Not the most well-rounded meal. But, on Wednesday, I was just craving a good, home-cooked, healthy meal. So I put in the effort and had Lime-Ginger Salmon, Multi-grain pilaf with dried cherries and sauteed asparagus with lemon. It was just what the doctor ordered - my body thanked me profusely for giving it food it could do something with. Not to mention totally delicious.
So, here is the Ginger-Lime Salmon recipe. For all to enjoy... And if it is summer anywhere else in the country today, this would be a perfect dish!
Ginger-Lime Salmon
from Food to Live By
grated zest of 1 lime
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
1 Tbl. fresh ginger (or 1-2 tsp. from a jar)
4.5 tsp. soy sauce
2 Tbl. canola oil
1 Tbl. sesame oil
1/4 cup fresh minced cilantro
4 salmon filets
1. Position a rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat the oven to 500F.
2. Combine the lime zest and juice, shallots, ginger, soy sauce, canola oil, sesame oil, and 2 Tbl. of the cilantro, if using, in a shallow baking dish just large enough to comfortably hold the salmon filets in a single layer. Add the filets and turn them to coat all over, then arrange them skin side down, if any.
3. Bake the salmon filets, without turning, until the fish is just firm to the touch and the interior is nearly opaque but still moist, 6-12 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fish.
4. Transfer the salmon filets to plates, drizzle some of the sauce from the pan over them, and garnish with the remaining 2 Tbl. of cilantro, if using.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Day 5 of being 30
I am officially 30 years old now. Three decades into my existence, over the hill, whatever... I'll tell you, 30 feels pretty similar to 29 and to 28 and to what 31 will probably feel like. There's no earth-shattering feeling - like suddenly all my joints start aching and the arthritis instantly sets in. No, I still feel pretty good. Although I have to say, after my wonderful party in the park, I was ready to curl up in bed by 7:30. Thinking back to my last significant birthday, 21 - that's a pretty huge difference. I think that night we were probably out until at least 3am. I like 30.
For the party, I wanted to do something really mellow and fun and laid-back, so we had a get-together in Fort Mason meadow, which is across from our house. It's basically a big, open meadow above Fort Mason, with a nice view out over the Bay towards the Golden Gate Bridge, and a great view of the Pacific Heights neighborhood of S.F. The weather was nearly perfect - beautiful sunny day, not too hot. The only drawback was the ever-present wind. Many days, though, the wind can really make things miserable. Today it was just a small nuisance - it wasn't too cold and the wind wasn't blowing quite as hard as it can.
We lugged blankets, beer, food and lawn games over at 3 and immediately set to chowing down. It was a potluck, with many many good eats. We had pesto pasta salad, tequila lime chicken wings and thighs, corn and black bean salad, more corn and black bean salad, a corn and avacado salad (there was an unusually large ratio of corn dishes for some reason), spinach dip, baguettes, cookies, more cookies, and popsicles. I stuffed myself with delicious food.
We just hung out on the blankets chatting, and then I got to work putting my new lawn game together - Ladderball. We played this with our friend Jordan in Portland before we left, and I loved it. When I spotted it in Sports Authority, I couldn't wait to play! It's basically just a bunch of PVC pipe put together with three horizontal bars. Then you play with two balls connected by a thread, trying to loop it around the bars. Okay - I'll just show you a picture:
You play with teams of two, standing opposite each other, and the low bar is worth 3 points, mid-bar worth 2 and top bar is 1 point. You get three tosses each turn. Whichever team gets to 20 points first is the big winner. I must humbly admit that my team was the winner twice. And in one turn I scored 9 points (that's three throws on the 3 point bar for non-math types). I love it.
Here's an action shot of Neil:
And here's what it looks like when you earn 2 points (1 point for each set of balls on the top rung):
Me, winning: :)
After ladderball, we moved on to Bocce ball.
And then we finished up with cake around 7:15. Not too much to report, as we all just kind of hung out, which was what I wanted. All in all, a perfect day. And I was ready for bed by 7:30...In other birthday news, on Monday my garden gave me a great little birthday present by having lettuce and cilantro ready to be picked! I brought home two heads of red butterhead and one head of green leaf lettuce and a few sprigs of cilantro. We've been eating the lettuce on sandwiches the last two days (yummy) and I had the cilantro on some salmon last night. I have to say, it was pretty darn delicious, straight from the garden. Not to mention, just beautiful:
And finally, on Tuesday night, we went up to our favorite burger joint, Polkers, for dinner. We ordered our burgers (cheese for me, BBQ Bacon for Neil) and then proceeded to have a really nice, leisurely conversation. I guess more leisurely than I even noticed, because apparently our waiter forgot to put our order into the cook and so the burger's were taking a long time. I was completely oblivious to this fact, having a nice chat with Neil, but the waiter apologized profusely and comped our beers. I never get stuff for free - and even better, for late food that I didn't even realize was late. Cool!! So we got two cold, delicious Widmer Hefewiezen's for 0 dollars (my favorite price). And the burgers were mouth-wateringly wonderful, perfectly cooked, and the curly fries were scrumptious with ranch dressing. Lovely.
Last night I went and ordered four bridesmaid dresses from JCrew - free shipping when you order them through the store and you can also return them directly to the store - YAY! Let's get some opinions, which ones do you all like?
My favorite is #2. And they are going to 3-day air them to me, so they'll be here when Chelsea comes to visit in 2 weeks. She can choose which one will work the best.
And then, tonight, unrelated to my birthday, but still nice, I am going to an oyster bar after work with some co-workers and the Ferry Building, which has a lovely view of the Bay. It should be perfect on a really nice, sunny afternoon. It was perfectly warm when I sat outside for lunch today.
Neil gave me a pasta maker for my birthday and I can't wait to fire it up and eat some fresh pasta. That will probably happen this weekend!
All in all, a great birthday week. And more to come - my mom, dad, sister and nephew are all coming to visit next weekend, so there should be more celebration to come. See, turning 30 - not so bad! :)
All in all, a great birthday week. And more to come - my mom, dad, sister and nephew are all coming to visit next weekend, so there should be more celebration to come. See, turning 30 - not so bad! :)
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sometimes I dream of automobiles...
It was a completely exhausting weekend, capped off with a really nice celebration at the Fort Mason meadow for my birthday.
But the birthday story will have to come later. First I want to tell you about Saturday. Saturday was one of those days that I would have given anything to have a car. A day that public transportation was the very bane of my existence. A day that took me 6 hours to complete two tasks where in the normal world - the world of automobiles - it would have taken me 2. Or something like that.
I started the day off at the Farmer's Market - arriving around 11:30. I figured I could wrap it up by 12:15 or so and get back home before leaving to get to my haircut at 1:30. Two hours is plenty of time, right? WRONG! On a sunny Saturday in San Francisco, at the Ferry Building Farmer's Market, it most definitely is not enough time. I did finish up my shopping around 12:15 but realized that every tourist and their mother and their grandmother was out and about and trying to catch the F-line. By the time the F-train gets to the Ferry building, it's usually packed even on regular days. When I saw the crowd of 50 people just waiting for the F-train to come, I knew I was screwed. There was no possible way for me to go home before going to the hair appointment. So, I decided to just go straight to the haircut, lugging the two loaded bags of produce all the way. I headed the other direction on the F, down Market Street. Just a little side-note, if you ever come to San Francisco to visit, at noon on a Saturday, every other tourist is trying to catch the F-train from downtown to Fisherman's Wharf. Avoid this route at ALL COSTS.
At this point, I was really kind of worried about getting to the hair salon too early - I figured I just had to ride the F to 47 and I would be there by 1:00. No, no - there was no need to worry. By the time I got on the F, it was already 12:30 and didn't get to my next stop until 1:00. 30 minutes just to go down Market St. Then, by the time the 47 came, I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't get to the salon by 1:30. I finally walked in to the busy Academy of Esthetics at 1:25 - right on time - with my two full bags of produce. When I asked the front desk lady if I could leave the bags behind the front desk, she looked at me like I was crazy and hemmed and hawed for awhile, saying, "Well, it's really not very secure back here..." Yes, because I'm extremely worried that someone might take off with my priceless leeks and strawberries. Good call. So I finally just told her that I'd just take them to the haircutting chair with me. Unfortunately, I had a really strong smelling red onion in my bag that was really stinking the place up. Everyone who walked by me sneezed.
The haircut went really well - the girl I got was nice and overall was more competent than the last person I was with. The haircut only took 2 hours this time. Although, now that I think about it, I had a lot less hair this time... The girls are so timid - they're so afraid of cutting off too much. I finally had to just tell the girl that I'd rather have her cut off too much than not enough. Atleast if you cut it too short, it will grow out. If you don't cut it short enough, I have to pay more money and come again right away. So after I said that, she was much more aggressive and I came away with just what I wanted. Yay! So by the time I finished, it was 3:30. We were going to a party at 6:00 in Oakland, and I still needed to get to Trader Joe's to pick up some groceries to make a dip.
The 47 picked me up at 4:00 and I didn't walk into my door until 4:50. I had to admit that the dip just wasn't going to get made, and I would just have to buy something pre-made. I had just enough time to fix the "styling" that the haircut lady did and rush out the door to go to Trader Joe's and try to get out to Neil's studio by 5:45 to catch our ride over to Oakland.
So for a full day of efforts, I got two things accomplished - Farmer's Market and haircut. It's just so frustrating sometimes when you know you could get somewhere in 10 minutes, and it takes 50. Bah! Plus, I actually did a complete circle around the core of San Francisco. I went East towards Fisherman's Wharf, South towards the Ferry building, West down Market St., and the North again up Van Ness back to my house. A perfect square.
Oh well, I guess I should be happy that public transportation exists to get me to two places in one day. Or something like that.
Time for bed - Neil and I are heading off to work together tomorrow morning. He starts his first day helping out in the membership department. I'll have to pack us each little matching lunches and we can ride the bus together. :) It will be interesting - we've never worked in such close proximity before... Can we stand each other for an entire day? :)
But the birthday story will have to come later. First I want to tell you about Saturday. Saturday was one of those days that I would have given anything to have a car. A day that public transportation was the very bane of my existence. A day that took me 6 hours to complete two tasks where in the normal world - the world of automobiles - it would have taken me 2. Or something like that.
I started the day off at the Farmer's Market - arriving around 11:30. I figured I could wrap it up by 12:15 or so and get back home before leaving to get to my haircut at 1:30. Two hours is plenty of time, right? WRONG! On a sunny Saturday in San Francisco, at the Ferry Building Farmer's Market, it most definitely is not enough time. I did finish up my shopping around 12:15 but realized that every tourist and their mother and their grandmother was out and about and trying to catch the F-line. By the time the F-train gets to the Ferry building, it's usually packed even on regular days. When I saw the crowd of 50 people just waiting for the F-train to come, I knew I was screwed. There was no possible way for me to go home before going to the hair appointment. So, I decided to just go straight to the haircut, lugging the two loaded bags of produce all the way. I headed the other direction on the F, down Market Street. Just a little side-note, if you ever come to San Francisco to visit, at noon on a Saturday, every other tourist is trying to catch the F-train from downtown to Fisherman's Wharf. Avoid this route at ALL COSTS.
At this point, I was really kind of worried about getting to the hair salon too early - I figured I just had to ride the F to 47 and I would be there by 1:00. No, no - there was no need to worry. By the time I got on the F, it was already 12:30 and didn't get to my next stop until 1:00. 30 minutes just to go down Market St. Then, by the time the 47 came, I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't get to the salon by 1:30. I finally walked in to the busy Academy of Esthetics at 1:25 - right on time - with my two full bags of produce. When I asked the front desk lady if I could leave the bags behind the front desk, she looked at me like I was crazy and hemmed and hawed for awhile, saying, "Well, it's really not very secure back here..." Yes, because I'm extremely worried that someone might take off with my priceless leeks and strawberries. Good call. So I finally just told her that I'd just take them to the haircutting chair with me. Unfortunately, I had a really strong smelling red onion in my bag that was really stinking the place up. Everyone who walked by me sneezed.
The haircut went really well - the girl I got was nice and overall was more competent than the last person I was with. The haircut only took 2 hours this time. Although, now that I think about it, I had a lot less hair this time... The girls are so timid - they're so afraid of cutting off too much. I finally had to just tell the girl that I'd rather have her cut off too much than not enough. Atleast if you cut it too short, it will grow out. If you don't cut it short enough, I have to pay more money and come again right away. So after I said that, she was much more aggressive and I came away with just what I wanted. Yay! So by the time I finished, it was 3:30. We were going to a party at 6:00 in Oakland, and I still needed to get to Trader Joe's to pick up some groceries to make a dip.
The 47 picked me up at 4:00 and I didn't walk into my door until 4:50. I had to admit that the dip just wasn't going to get made, and I would just have to buy something pre-made. I had just enough time to fix the "styling" that the haircut lady did and rush out the door to go to Trader Joe's and try to get out to Neil's studio by 5:45 to catch our ride over to Oakland.
So for a full day of efforts, I got two things accomplished - Farmer's Market and haircut. It's just so frustrating sometimes when you know you could get somewhere in 10 minutes, and it takes 50. Bah! Plus, I actually did a complete circle around the core of San Francisco. I went East towards Fisherman's Wharf, South towards the Ferry building, West down Market St., and the North again up Van Ness back to my house. A perfect square.
Oh well, I guess I should be happy that public transportation exists to get me to two places in one day. Or something like that.
Time for bed - Neil and I are heading off to work together tomorrow morning. He starts his first day helping out in the membership department. I'll have to pack us each little matching lunches and we can ride the bus together. :) It will be interesting - we've never worked in such close proximity before... Can we stand each other for an entire day? :)
Friday, May 8, 2009
Redemption in a crepe
For anyone worried about the state of my mental health after the falafel incident, take heart. I have pulled myself up out of the depths of dispair, out of the bottom of the barrel, with the help of breakfast.
With the hot oil burns still on my finger to remind me of my total, complete falafel failure, last night I felt like I really needed to do something that would be fabulous, delicious, and make me feel better about my kitchen prowess. The answer was strawberry crepes with whip cream, home fries and bacon. Homey, comforting, delicious - just what the doctor ordered! And really, it's not possible to go wrong when bacon is in the equation, is it? It came off without a single hiccup. The strawberries marinated in their own juices and sugar, until they sat patiently in their perfectly sweet little bath. The crepes came out exquisitely browned from the skillet. Neil cooked the bacon to absolute perfection and then we used the bacon fat to fry up the potatoes to a delicious, browned crunch, sprinkled with Johny's and some pepper. At the last second, I whipped the cream in the Kitchenaid, with just a hint of sweetness, and we sat down to a perfect meal. It was just what my bruised/burned ego needed.
Neil is in his final week of classes, and as each day gets ticked off the list, I get more and more excited to have him to myself for the entire summer! No more critique deadlines, paper deadlines, gallery deadlines. Three whole months where he will be available on Sundays and Saturdays! Marital bliss will be ours. We have quite a travel agenda lined up - in June we are returning home to Portland for a weekend and a couple of nights out at Cannon Beach with the whole fam (always a good time at Cannon Beach). Then, at the end of June we head to Ottawa, Canada to visit my best friend for a weekend and will day trip to Montreal, as well, which I think feels a lot like a European city. In mid-July, we will road trip back up to Portland again to partake in the festivities at my sister's wedding. And then, at the end of July, we will celebrate our 7th anniversary with a 6-day trip to NYC. We're both really looking forward to that trip - I haven't been since I was little and Neil was there for a weekend while working at Nike, but he was working the whole time. We will thoroughly enjoy being tourists.
In between all the out-of-state travel, I hope we can squeeze in lots of camping trips. We'd like to head back south to Big Sur and camp right on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and explore Hearst Castle. Also we'd like to head back north towards Mendocino and the beautiful scenery up there. And finally, east towards Lake Tahoe - an area we have yet to explore. We can't really go west, as we're about as far west as you can go. :) As you can see, I plan to maximize my time with Neil before he heads back to school in September.
Also, Neil will do some work for the Foundation (where I work) starting next Tuesday, with the possibility of further work after this - which is GREAT news! With the economy the way it is, I figured that I would have an unemployed husband on my hands, which I guess is not much different from his status right now... So - YAY!
My birthday is this weekend - the dreaded 3-0. Or 20-10, as some people like to refer to it (as in... I'm not actually 30, I'm only 20-10). We have a little get-together planned at the meadow at Fort Mason on Sunday. It's a potluck and hopefully we'll have some lawn games - boche ball and whatnot - to play. It should be nice. I really don't have any worries about turning 30, either. When I turned 25, I was totally freaked out about 30, but every year, I worried about it less and less. It's just another year. And I think the 30's will be a great decade - a time for finally settling into life (at some point during the decade) and putting down roots somewhere. Neil and I should both be finished with school forever (hopefully), and ready to really move forward together. For most of our 7 years of marriage, one of us has always been in school, or trying to get into school. It will be nice to put that period behind us. Neil might disagree. :)
Tomorrow is the Farmer's Market where tomatoes (!!) have finally appeared. There's nothing like a fresh tomato. And tomorrow might be the day that I harvest some lettuce from my garden. Exciting times!
With the hot oil burns still on my finger to remind me of my total, complete falafel failure, last night I felt like I really needed to do something that would be fabulous, delicious, and make me feel better about my kitchen prowess. The answer was strawberry crepes with whip cream, home fries and bacon. Homey, comforting, delicious - just what the doctor ordered! And really, it's not possible to go wrong when bacon is in the equation, is it? It came off without a single hiccup. The strawberries marinated in their own juices and sugar, until they sat patiently in their perfectly sweet little bath. The crepes came out exquisitely browned from the skillet. Neil cooked the bacon to absolute perfection and then we used the bacon fat to fry up the potatoes to a delicious, browned crunch, sprinkled with Johny's and some pepper. At the last second, I whipped the cream in the Kitchenaid, with just a hint of sweetness, and we sat down to a perfect meal. It was just what my bruised/burned ego needed.
Neil is in his final week of classes, and as each day gets ticked off the list, I get more and more excited to have him to myself for the entire summer! No more critique deadlines, paper deadlines, gallery deadlines. Three whole months where he will be available on Sundays and Saturdays! Marital bliss will be ours. We have quite a travel agenda lined up - in June we are returning home to Portland for a weekend and a couple of nights out at Cannon Beach with the whole fam (always a good time at Cannon Beach). Then, at the end of June we head to Ottawa, Canada to visit my best friend for a weekend and will day trip to Montreal, as well, which I think feels a lot like a European city. In mid-July, we will road trip back up to Portland again to partake in the festivities at my sister's wedding. And then, at the end of July, we will celebrate our 7th anniversary with a 6-day trip to NYC. We're both really looking forward to that trip - I haven't been since I was little and Neil was there for a weekend while working at Nike, but he was working the whole time. We will thoroughly enjoy being tourists.
In between all the out-of-state travel, I hope we can squeeze in lots of camping trips. We'd like to head back south to Big Sur and camp right on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and explore Hearst Castle. Also we'd like to head back north towards Mendocino and the beautiful scenery up there. And finally, east towards Lake Tahoe - an area we have yet to explore. We can't really go west, as we're about as far west as you can go. :) As you can see, I plan to maximize my time with Neil before he heads back to school in September.
Also, Neil will do some work for the Foundation (where I work) starting next Tuesday, with the possibility of further work after this - which is GREAT news! With the economy the way it is, I figured that I would have an unemployed husband on my hands, which I guess is not much different from his status right now... So - YAY!
My birthday is this weekend - the dreaded 3-0. Or 20-10, as some people like to refer to it (as in... I'm not actually 30, I'm only 20-10). We have a little get-together planned at the meadow at Fort Mason on Sunday. It's a potluck and hopefully we'll have some lawn games - boche ball and whatnot - to play. It should be nice. I really don't have any worries about turning 30, either. When I turned 25, I was totally freaked out about 30, but every year, I worried about it less and less. It's just another year. And I think the 30's will be a great decade - a time for finally settling into life (at some point during the decade) and putting down roots somewhere. Neil and I should both be finished with school forever (hopefully), and ready to really move forward together. For most of our 7 years of marriage, one of us has always been in school, or trying to get into school. It will be nice to put that period behind us. Neil might disagree. :)
Tomorrow is the Farmer's Market where tomatoes (!!) have finally appeared. There's nothing like a fresh tomato. And tomorrow might be the day that I harvest some lettuce from my garden. Exciting times!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Hot oil burns
Last night was not a triumphant night in the kitchen. In fact, it was a pretty dismal, depressing, sit-down-and-cry kind of night in the kitchen. With no real dinner, to boot. It was the perfect storm of a recipe that takes lots of effort to prepare and an utter, total failure of that recipe, which then left us without the *main* part of the main dish.
It was probably a bad omen that Huevos Rancheros was actually what was on the menu for the night, but then I realized that I had no diced tomatoes and about 6 other ingredients required for making that recipe. So, there was a rushed flurry of recipe substitution and falafel came to the top of the menu. I first learned about falafel while in Israel when I was 16 and the flavor can instantly send me back to the bustling marketplaces of Jerusalem. It's such a delicious dish, a brilliant mixture of humble chickpeas, coriander and cumin (which is easily my most favorite spice) fried into crispy little patties, and stuffed into pita breads with hummus, tzatsiki, lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers - or whatever else you'd like to stuff in. Delicious. My mouth waters just thinking about it. However - because of all the things that you are stuffing in that pita bread, this recipe requires a lot of preparation. First of all, I like to make my pita bread fresh because, well, there just is no comparison to warm pita bread straight from the oven. Then, I had to make the hummus because, well, I wanted to. So there. Then the tzatsiki sauce, and finally the falafel patties. A whole darn lot of assembly is required.
And not to mention, last night was ANTM, so my attention was completely diverted from the kitchen until 9:00, so it was kind of a late start to the dinner anyways. There was a general feeling of being hurried and harried - which never bodes well in the kitchen.
After finally making the pita breads, the hummus and the tzatsiki, it was time to fry up the falafel and then EAT! YAY! Tiny, slight, problem. I placed the falafel patties in the hot oil to fry and the bottoms browned up very nicely. Then I went to flip them, and I have no idea what went wrong, but they completely disintegrated in the pan. Every single piece of pureed chickpea went in its own direction, filling the hot oil with millions of pieces of falafel patty. Now, granted, I was trying out a new falafel recipe last night, after I realized that I gave away my vegetarian cookbook that had my original recipe in it. BIG MISTAKE, I now realize. WHY did I NOT copy down that recipe?? But, there are not that many variations on making falafel - I figured the new, substitute recipe was safe. It looked pretty much the same as my original. Apparently not.
So, here I am with a hot skillet full of falafel mush and vegetable oil. What to do? Well, if at first you don't succeed, add more flour and try again. I added quite a bit more flour, hoping that it would make the mixture more firm, and I fired up a new skillet full of oil. I put new patties in, and let them sit, bubbling, in the oil for quite a while. When they looked thoroughly blackened (I figured that if they were burned together, they couldn't fall apart), I went to turn them. I flipped with a little too much enthusiasm for a skillet full of hot oil, and the falafel splashed back into the skillet, sending a wave of hot oil over my index finger. OW!!!!!!!! It's like the universe was trying to tell me that I should have just stopped with the first batch - that was my message. Since I didn't listen to that gentle hint, the universe decided to take it to the next level. Burning hot oil does not feel good on human flesh, let me tell you. And it really dampened my spirits about the whole undertaking. Neil kindly flipped the second patty and they both finished cooking, totally scalded/blackened on one side, and full of oil.
We finished up the last few patties and put them on a plate to cool. 10 minutes later, they were still hot, and just absolutely dripping with oil. After all the trouble, they were just too unappealing to consider eating. Since the patties are sort of the main part of the entire meal, that put quite a damper on dinner. I loaded up a pita with everything but the falafel and sat down to eat with that pit of failure sitting in my stomach. All that work - pita baking, hummus and tzatsiki making, lettuce and tomato chopping - to feature the main star of the meal, and the star did not show up. It was still good - it's hard to sniff at fresh pita bread - but with expectations so high, overall the evening was a bust. I climbed into bed still a little bit hungry. And this morning, I have a track of burned-on oil splash marks up my finger to remember the disaster by. I guess you can't win them all.
It was probably a bad omen that Huevos Rancheros was actually what was on the menu for the night, but then I realized that I had no diced tomatoes and about 6 other ingredients required for making that recipe. So, there was a rushed flurry of recipe substitution and falafel came to the top of the menu. I first learned about falafel while in Israel when I was 16 and the flavor can instantly send me back to the bustling marketplaces of Jerusalem. It's such a delicious dish, a brilliant mixture of humble chickpeas, coriander and cumin (which is easily my most favorite spice) fried into crispy little patties, and stuffed into pita breads with hummus, tzatsiki, lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers - or whatever else you'd like to stuff in. Delicious. My mouth waters just thinking about it. However - because of all the things that you are stuffing in that pita bread, this recipe requires a lot of preparation. First of all, I like to make my pita bread fresh because, well, there just is no comparison to warm pita bread straight from the oven. Then, I had to make the hummus because, well, I wanted to. So there. Then the tzatsiki sauce, and finally the falafel patties. A whole darn lot of assembly is required.
And not to mention, last night was ANTM, so my attention was completely diverted from the kitchen until 9:00, so it was kind of a late start to the dinner anyways. There was a general feeling of being hurried and harried - which never bodes well in the kitchen.
After finally making the pita breads, the hummus and the tzatsiki, it was time to fry up the falafel and then EAT! YAY! Tiny, slight, problem. I placed the falafel patties in the hot oil to fry and the bottoms browned up very nicely. Then I went to flip them, and I have no idea what went wrong, but they completely disintegrated in the pan. Every single piece of pureed chickpea went in its own direction, filling the hot oil with millions of pieces of falafel patty. Now, granted, I was trying out a new falafel recipe last night, after I realized that I gave away my vegetarian cookbook that had my original recipe in it. BIG MISTAKE, I now realize. WHY did I NOT copy down that recipe?? But, there are not that many variations on making falafel - I figured the new, substitute recipe was safe. It looked pretty much the same as my original. Apparently not.
So, here I am with a hot skillet full of falafel mush and vegetable oil. What to do? Well, if at first you don't succeed, add more flour and try again. I added quite a bit more flour, hoping that it would make the mixture more firm, and I fired up a new skillet full of oil. I put new patties in, and let them sit, bubbling, in the oil for quite a while. When they looked thoroughly blackened (I figured that if they were burned together, they couldn't fall apart), I went to turn them. I flipped with a little too much enthusiasm for a skillet full of hot oil, and the falafel splashed back into the skillet, sending a wave of hot oil over my index finger. OW!!!!!!!! It's like the universe was trying to tell me that I should have just stopped with the first batch - that was my message. Since I didn't listen to that gentle hint, the universe decided to take it to the next level. Burning hot oil does not feel good on human flesh, let me tell you. And it really dampened my spirits about the whole undertaking. Neil kindly flipped the second patty and they both finished cooking, totally scalded/blackened on one side, and full of oil.
We finished up the last few patties and put them on a plate to cool. 10 minutes later, they were still hot, and just absolutely dripping with oil. After all the trouble, they were just too unappealing to consider eating. Since the patties are sort of the main part of the entire meal, that put quite a damper on dinner. I loaded up a pita with everything but the falafel and sat down to eat with that pit of failure sitting in my stomach. All that work - pita baking, hummus and tzatsiki making, lettuce and tomato chopping - to feature the main star of the meal, and the star did not show up. It was still good - it's hard to sniff at fresh pita bread - but with expectations so high, overall the evening was a bust. I climbed into bed still a little bit hungry. And this morning, I have a track of burned-on oil splash marks up my finger to remember the disaster by. I guess you can't win them all.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
You get what you ask for...
(Before I start this post, I must mention that you should read through to the end: There is a revelation awaiting you)
I can hear God giggling right now... And that's okay - I'm sure that we humans all provide more than enough entertainment for God. This is what I get for waxing raphsodic about the rain and posting poems and whatnot - 6 straight days of rain and clouds. I asked for it, and God provided.
I feel like I'm back in Oregon again. No, actually, I feel like I'm in Seattle, because it has been not really raining - more like spitting. A constant spit, and because it is such a fine rain, the wind whips it around and right into your face. And I have a specific association with this kind of rain and living in Seattle (probably because I was always out in it during track practice). In Portland it rains (please read in deep, beefy, no-nonsense voice). There's none of this namby-pampy drizzle - if it is going to rain, it pours. At least where I grew up.
But there is one difference in San Francisco, and that is the fog that comes along with the rain. And I have to say, the fog is really really quite lovely. So ethereal and mystic. On Sunday, Neil came home a little bit early from the studio, which was quite a treat, and we went for an evening walk along the Marina Green towards the Golden Gate Bridge while the rain had paused. We could see the fog bank off behind a stand of trees in the distance and it was creeping down over nob hill towards our apartment. It was intended to be just a short walk, and we turned around before we got to the end of the Marina. As we started walking back towards home, I noticed that a little tree off in the distance was getting hazier and hazier. We stopped and looked back behind us, and the stand of trees had completely disappeared in the fog, and it quietly crept towards us. When we started walking again, the little tree in the distance had also disappeared. It's like being slowly, quietly surrounded by a giant, damp blanket. And with the foghorn on the Golden Gate Bridge sounding in the distance, I have to say again that it really is just a lovely feeling. I'm glad that we're coming into fog season again.
trees in the distance on Marina Green
same scene, 10 minutes later...
One final difference between rain here and rain up in the PacNW, is that it is warm down here when it rains. This is no 30 degree, shivery, muddy, rainy day. This is 65 and a drizzle, which is actually a fairly enjoyable type of rain - a spring rain. So, overall, I have to say that I'm not at all dismayed with 6 days of spring rain. I don't have to water my garden, either. I guess I'll take what I asked for.
So, I'm trying a new approach to the excercise. I've fallen into the "join a gym because if you're paying for it you are more likely to use it" trap. I joined the YMCA. Primarily because they have a really nice pool and I really miss swimming. And I just really feel like I need to do something to get myself back into shape - any shape. And I've tried training for stuff (please recall the grand plans of a half-marathon) but that hasn't seemed to work. New plan = make excercise a daily part of the routine. Nothing strenous, nothing crazy, no pressure, but try to always do something. On Sunday, I tried out the pool. I did nice, easy laps of breast stroke and free for 35 minutes, and it was just bliss. I wasn't trying to train for anything, so I could just take it easy and enjoy the pool, but still get a workout. It was like an epiphany - a lightbulb went off. Then, yesterday, I took an easy spin on the stationary bike at the gym. Again, no pressure, nothing to train for and it was nice. I was supposed to follow the bike ride with some weight lifting, but at a brand new gym, I am always intimidated by machines that I don't know, and big beefy guys lifting lots of weights and grunting. So I wussed out. I called it a night after the bike ride and walked home, without a coat, in the drizzle.
Neil has a show tonight at his little school gallery. As the culmination of one of his classes, everyone in the class is showing a piece of art. So Neil is putting in a new piece of art that he is still kind of working on. But it will be nice for him to have it seen, and to get feedback.
Finally - and it was debatable whether this should come first or last in this blog post, because I am SO excited about it - I have discovered the holy grail of cooking steak. I settled on end of the post, because you should save the best for last. And lure your readers into reading the entire post because of the promise of something wonderful at the end. So, without further ado, the secret to mouth-wateringly tender and moist steak is: SALT!! Lots and lots of SALT! I found this method on a food writer's blog, and I have to say I tend to trust food blogs more than cookbooks, because there is the feel of an actual person on the other end of the recipe. Someone is testing and tasting and actually cooking the recipe and because there is usually writing beyond just the recipe and instructions, I can discern whether or not I trust the person and their opinions.
Here is the link to the original article: I will try to do a brief explanation for all of you who don't care to link...
http://steamykitchen.com/blog/2007/08/28/how-to-turn-cheap-choice-steaks-into-gucci-prime-steaks
So here we go: 30-40 minutes before you are going to cook your steaks, pat them dry and then cover them liberally with salt. And when I say liberally, I mean you shouldn't be able to see much meat through the salt. Also, you should use kosher salt. Then, just let it sit. Apparently (from my own research and it being noted on the food blog) this is blasphemy to most people, because salt is supposed to suck all the moisture out of the steak. HOWEVER - if you let it sit for a longer period of time, the moisture dissolves the salt, and some of it gets sucked back into the interior of the meat. Don't worry - it's not that much. Then, after a suitable period of time (timetable to follow), rinse all of the salt off of the meat (I just ran mine under the faucet) and pat it completely dry. Don't worry if the meat feels like an old, dry leather bag at this point. Mine did, and I was totally freaked out. It's ok. I promise.
Then season your steak the way you choose - I used garlic powder, onion powder and pepper - and grill or broil or fry, however you want to cook it - I used a grill pan. And when it was finished, I topped mine with 1 tsp of garlic herb butter (basically just mix butter, garlic powder and chopped parsley together) and can I tell you that I don't think I've ever tasted a better piece of meat, even in a restaurant? And to make it even better, it wasn't even a fancy piece of meat - just a top sirloin. So I saved money and had the best steak dinner of my life. I IMPLORE you to try this method - it will change your steak-eating life. Pretty-please?
Here is a timetable for how long to let the salt sit on the meat:
MEAT TIME
Less than 1″ 15 min
1″ thick cut 30 min
1.25″ -1.5″ (NY Strip, Ribeye) standard thicker steaks can sit longer to let the salt do its work throughout meat 45 min
1.25″ - 1.5″ manly-man T-Bone, Porterhouse
45 min
>1.5″ Massive ginormous “Barney Rubble” porterhouse
1 hr or more
Happy meat-eating to all!
I can hear God giggling right now... And that's okay - I'm sure that we humans all provide more than enough entertainment for God. This is what I get for waxing raphsodic about the rain and posting poems and whatnot - 6 straight days of rain and clouds. I asked for it, and God provided.
I feel like I'm back in Oregon again. No, actually, I feel like I'm in Seattle, because it has been not really raining - more like spitting. A constant spit, and because it is such a fine rain, the wind whips it around and right into your face. And I have a specific association with this kind of rain and living in Seattle (probably because I was always out in it during track practice). In Portland it rains (please read in deep, beefy, no-nonsense voice). There's none of this namby-pampy drizzle - if it is going to rain, it pours. At least where I grew up.
But there is one difference in San Francisco, and that is the fog that comes along with the rain. And I have to say, the fog is really really quite lovely. So ethereal and mystic. On Sunday, Neil came home a little bit early from the studio, which was quite a treat, and we went for an evening walk along the Marina Green towards the Golden Gate Bridge while the rain had paused. We could see the fog bank off behind a stand of trees in the distance and it was creeping down over nob hill towards our apartment. It was intended to be just a short walk, and we turned around before we got to the end of the Marina. As we started walking back towards home, I noticed that a little tree off in the distance was getting hazier and hazier. We stopped and looked back behind us, and the stand of trees had completely disappeared in the fog, and it quietly crept towards us. When we started walking again, the little tree in the distance had also disappeared. It's like being slowly, quietly surrounded by a giant, damp blanket. And with the foghorn on the Golden Gate Bridge sounding in the distance, I have to say again that it really is just a lovely feeling. I'm glad that we're coming into fog season again.
trees in the distance on Marina Green
same scene, 10 minutes later...One final difference between rain here and rain up in the PacNW, is that it is warm down here when it rains. This is no 30 degree, shivery, muddy, rainy day. This is 65 and a drizzle, which is actually a fairly enjoyable type of rain - a spring rain. So, overall, I have to say that I'm not at all dismayed with 6 days of spring rain. I don't have to water my garden, either. I guess I'll take what I asked for.
So, I'm trying a new approach to the excercise. I've fallen into the "join a gym because if you're paying for it you are more likely to use it" trap. I joined the YMCA. Primarily because they have a really nice pool and I really miss swimming. And I just really feel like I need to do something to get myself back into shape - any shape. And I've tried training for stuff (please recall the grand plans of a half-marathon) but that hasn't seemed to work. New plan = make excercise a daily part of the routine. Nothing strenous, nothing crazy, no pressure, but try to always do something. On Sunday, I tried out the pool. I did nice, easy laps of breast stroke and free for 35 minutes, and it was just bliss. I wasn't trying to train for anything, so I could just take it easy and enjoy the pool, but still get a workout. It was like an epiphany - a lightbulb went off. Then, yesterday, I took an easy spin on the stationary bike at the gym. Again, no pressure, nothing to train for and it was nice. I was supposed to follow the bike ride with some weight lifting, but at a brand new gym, I am always intimidated by machines that I don't know, and big beefy guys lifting lots of weights and grunting. So I wussed out. I called it a night after the bike ride and walked home, without a coat, in the drizzle.
Neil has a show tonight at his little school gallery. As the culmination of one of his classes, everyone in the class is showing a piece of art. So Neil is putting in a new piece of art that he is still kind of working on. But it will be nice for him to have it seen, and to get feedback.
Finally - and it was debatable whether this should come first or last in this blog post, because I am SO excited about it - I have discovered the holy grail of cooking steak. I settled on end of the post, because you should save the best for last. And lure your readers into reading the entire post because of the promise of something wonderful at the end. So, without further ado, the secret to mouth-wateringly tender and moist steak is: SALT!! Lots and lots of SALT! I found this method on a food writer's blog, and I have to say I tend to trust food blogs more than cookbooks, because there is the feel of an actual person on the other end of the recipe. Someone is testing and tasting and actually cooking the recipe and because there is usually writing beyond just the recipe and instructions, I can discern whether or not I trust the person and their opinions.
Here is the link to the original article: I will try to do a brief explanation for all of you who don't care to link...
http://steamykitchen.com/blog/2007/08/28/how-to-turn-cheap-choice-steaks-into-gucci-prime-steaks
So here we go: 30-40 minutes before you are going to cook your steaks, pat them dry and then cover them liberally with salt. And when I say liberally, I mean you shouldn't be able to see much meat through the salt. Also, you should use kosher salt. Then, just let it sit. Apparently (from my own research and it being noted on the food blog) this is blasphemy to most people, because salt is supposed to suck all the moisture out of the steak. HOWEVER - if you let it sit for a longer period of time, the moisture dissolves the salt, and some of it gets sucked back into the interior of the meat. Don't worry - it's not that much. Then, after a suitable period of time (timetable to follow), rinse all of the salt off of the meat (I just ran mine under the faucet) and pat it completely dry. Don't worry if the meat feels like an old, dry leather bag at this point. Mine did, and I was totally freaked out. It's ok. I promise.
Then season your steak the way you choose - I used garlic powder, onion powder and pepper - and grill or broil or fry, however you want to cook it - I used a grill pan. And when it was finished, I topped mine with 1 tsp of garlic herb butter (basically just mix butter, garlic powder and chopped parsley together) and can I tell you that I don't think I've ever tasted a better piece of meat, even in a restaurant? And to make it even better, it wasn't even a fancy piece of meat - just a top sirloin. So I saved money and had the best steak dinner of my life. I IMPLORE you to try this method - it will change your steak-eating life. Pretty-please?
Here is a timetable for how long to let the salt sit on the meat:
MEAT TIME
Less than 1″ 15 min
1″ thick cut 30 min
1.25″ -1.5″ (NY Strip, Ribeye) standard thicker steaks can sit longer to let the salt do its work throughout meat 45 min
1.25″ - 1.5″ manly-man T-Bone, Porterhouse
45 min
>1.5″ Massive ginormous “Barney Rubble” porterhouse
1 hr or more
Happy meat-eating to all!
Friday, May 1, 2009
The wind has stopped...
And it's raining in San Francisco. It's warmer today and deliciously drippy, with no hint of wind. It feels like the city is wrapped in a giant, warm blanket, with the low clouds and drip, drip, drip of the rain. I am in rain heaven. It feels cleansing, and comfortable and familiar - and the smell of wet concrete was tickling my nose this morning as I left my apartment for work. Another smell that brings back a miriad of memories. Usually, you don't smell that in Portland until July or August, and so, ironically, all the memories are of summer, but it's only May yet.
In honor of this lovely, rainy day, a poem:
A Spring Rain by Raymond A. Foss
The world is wet today
luxurious, damp, drenched
drops hug the leaves,
anoint the still budded lilac blossoms
before their blooming
rich purple and plum
made richer by their watery skin
New leaves under the weight
droplets heavy, hanging
bowing the white pine needles
undersides exposed to drink
drink in the morning
hushed in the rain
temperature near the dewpoint
sprouts of just planted flowers
eager from the parched soil
new puddles bloom too
on the ground, the driveway
collect and gather
without the smell of summer rain yet
splash and spread
silent shimmers, heralds, messengers
in the spring rain
In honor of this lovely, rainy day, a poem:A Spring Rain by Raymond A. Foss
The world is wet today
luxurious, damp, drenched
drops hug the leaves,
anoint the still budded lilac blossoms
before their blooming
rich purple and plum
made richer by their watery skin
New leaves under the weight
droplets heavy, hanging
bowing the white pine needles
undersides exposed to drink
drink in the morning
hushed in the rain
temperature near the dewpoint
sprouts of just planted flowers
eager from the parched soil
new puddles bloom too
on the ground, the driveway
collect and gather
without the smell of summer rain yet
splash and spread
silent shimmers, heralds, messengers
in the spring rain
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