This applies to life, but also to recipes. There are times when the instructions that you're given don't make sense, and there is no way to quickly get into contact with the author of those instructions. In cases like those, I ask that you follow mindfully, not blindly.
There was a recipe that I'd seen for a certain tofu dish. It read like any other: press tofu, pat dry, add spices, add 2 tablespoon of salt, 2 tsp of pepper, and 1 tablespoon of red pepper flakes. At that moment, I put the brakes on my train of thought. It was like hearing loud, screaming claxons, warning me away from disaster. How is it possible that you have almost equal amounts of salt and heat? That seemed way excessive. I assumed that it was a typo, and scaled the red pepper flakes back to a much more reasonable 1 tsp. The dish turned out delicious at the end. It was a tiny bit on the spicy side, but still quite tasty. If I had gone with that full tablespoon of chile flakes, I shudder to think of the pain that would result from that level of heat.
Years ago, when I was visiting Quito, Ecuador on a class field trip, one of the people there knew the directions to a specific place we all wanted to go check out. For the sake of this story, we'll say it was a ... library. Yes. A library. Stop looking at me like that!
Anyway. On the way to the library, we had to cross multiple intersections. I was able to follow along, because the street signs for stop, go, and walk/don't walk are pretty universal. Unfortunately, the guy who was leading the way wasn't paying close enough attention, and wandered into traffic. My friend yanked me back before I was about to do the same. "That's the DON'T WALK sign, Dino. What are you, nuts!? Just because that idiot is walking into oncoming traffic doesn't mean that you need to be a lemming and follow him off the cliff!"
Whether it be adding entirely too much heat to a recipe, or walking into oncoming traffic, both are situations where a bit of mindfulness, and careful attention would prevent some pretty horrible disasters. It's the reason why when I make a recipe for the first time, I'll go through and read it thoroughly. I'll make sure I understand the instructions. If there's a technique that I'm not familiar with, I'll go onto a popular video posting website, and look it up. Why? Because when I'm on unfamiliar ground, I want to make sure that the path is going to be as smooth as possible. Even with all that preparation work, there are times when I'll miss a step completely, and slap myself on the forehead for being such a dunce.
Similarly, when I'm in a new city, or following directions for the first time, I'm extra careful about looking all around, making note of the road that I'm on (and the road I need to be on), checking frequently with the GPS (sorry, but printed maps confuse me, since they don't have a giant arrow pointing me to where I need to go) to ensure that I'm not going the wrong way. Even then, I still manage to get myself lost with hilarious frequency.
Think what would happen if I were to take a recipe or a new city without all those precautions!
The point is that by being careful, I'm not guaranteeing that I'll be perfect. There's no such thing. What I'm doing is stacking the odds in my favour that I will end up successful in my ventures. When I'm reading or making a recipe for the first time, I don't like distractions (TV turned on, someone chatting to me casually, my MP3 player in my ear), because I find myself losing my spot as I follow along the recipe. Similarly, when I'm trying to navigate a tricky set of directions (or even a simple one; I really am pretty hopeless at getting to the right place the first time), I pull my earphones off, and clear my brain of erroneous thoughts. In the car, I'll ask that the radio be turned down, and that any conversation not involved in getting us there in one piece be put on hold (I don't drive, so I'm frequently assigned the role of navigator).
There are memorable flubs in both cooking and life that I could tell you about, but that's for another day.
7/15/13
Don't expect things to turn out exactly.
I've said this before a bunch of times when it comes to life, but it also applies to cooking: don't expect things to be exactly the way you've wanted them to be; life has a way of throwing you a surprise from time to time, and it helps to be open to it.
A couple of months back, I went down to Virginia to visit my brother (and his wife, and their two kids). It just happened to be the same weekend that my 2nd brother was able to get his son for the week, and had flown up from Florida. Also the same week that my dad had flown up from Florida too. At that point, my mother and nephew (sister's son, for the record) had already been in Virginia for a couple of months, and were nearing the end of their stay. Because everyone else was coming down to VA, my sister made the flight out from Arizona (her husband was working, and couldn't get the time off). For that reason, I and my husband made the trip down (since everyone else was there).
My mom mentioned that she got her wish (a large family reunion; we haven't all been together under one roof in over 20 years), but not quite the way she expected it to happen. In her mind, she had just casually put out to the Universe (or G-d, or the Powers That Be, or whatever you choose to call it) that as she hit her sixtieth year on this planet, she'd like all her children to be together under one roof, over there in Arizona, where my sister has an extremely large house (for the record, my eldest brother's house is also enormous). The reason being that my mother would be in her comfort zone, while still having everyone together. My sister's house has a pool, a large back yard, and pretty much all the amenities you could hope for.
But, as life goes, things don't always turn out just so. With the majority of the family living on the East coast (me, my husband, brother, his wife, their two kids, my 2nd brother, his kid), it would have been a logistical nightmare to coordinate everyone's time off and flights to get out to Arizona. A trip down to Virginia, however, is a short bus ride for my husband and me (also, one that doesn't require much planning; the bus I take lets me book up to the night before, and still costs the same).
Somehow, what started off as a visit to her son and daughter-in-law became a massive family reunion, without her realising it. We still had a good time. We still all got to be together. I didn't have to take time off from work.
But it didn't quite end up how my mother thought it "should" be. Rather, it ended up like it was.
This applies to food. I was at the grocery store, shopping for vegetables and the rest. I was going to be cooking for a friend, and wanted to make him some of the South Indian dishes that my mother would cook when I was a kid. Lemon rice is one of those dishes that pretty much everyone loves, and is fairly simple to make. Unfortunately, the store's lemons looked awful. They were hard, and unripe, and didn't smell of citrus. Also, they were 2 for $1. Ouch! The limes, on the other hand, were plump, thin skinned, fragrant, and half the price.
If I had been one of those folks who's careful about following a recipe to the letter, I'd have ignored those beautiful limes, and opted for the bottled lemon juice. Instead, I decided to try the lemon rice recipe (which is one of those dishes that my mother gets asked to make pretty much universally) using limes instead of lemons. The flavour was divine! Who knew that you could change a fundamental component of a recipe that much, and still have it be delicious?
There have been times when I'm at a friend's house, and making hummus, and we don't have any lemon juice. I've managed to substitute the lemon with cider vinegar to excellent results. My friend who is allergic to soy was coming over for lunch. Instead of using the soy sauce that a particular recipe called for, I used a mix of chickpea miso dissolved in the broth from soaking shiitake mushrooms and kombu. It didn't taste like the original recipe, but it tasted better.
Whatever your challenge is, whether it be in life, or in cooking, face it with an open mind, and find a different solution. Or, in some cases, expect the odd turns and twists that life has sent your way, and enjoy them.
A couple of months back, I went down to Virginia to visit my brother (and his wife, and their two kids). It just happened to be the same weekend that my 2nd brother was able to get his son for the week, and had flown up from Florida. Also the same week that my dad had flown up from Florida too. At that point, my mother and nephew (sister's son, for the record) had already been in Virginia for a couple of months, and were nearing the end of their stay. Because everyone else was coming down to VA, my sister made the flight out from Arizona (her husband was working, and couldn't get the time off). For that reason, I and my husband made the trip down (since everyone else was there).
My mom mentioned that she got her wish (a large family reunion; we haven't all been together under one roof in over 20 years), but not quite the way she expected it to happen. In her mind, she had just casually put out to the Universe (or G-d, or the Powers That Be, or whatever you choose to call it) that as she hit her sixtieth year on this planet, she'd like all her children to be together under one roof, over there in Arizona, where my sister has an extremely large house (for the record, my eldest brother's house is also enormous). The reason being that my mother would be in her comfort zone, while still having everyone together. My sister's house has a pool, a large back yard, and pretty much all the amenities you could hope for.
But, as life goes, things don't always turn out just so. With the majority of the family living on the East coast (me, my husband, brother, his wife, their two kids, my 2nd brother, his kid), it would have been a logistical nightmare to coordinate everyone's time off and flights to get out to Arizona. A trip down to Virginia, however, is a short bus ride for my husband and me (also, one that doesn't require much planning; the bus I take lets me book up to the night before, and still costs the same).
Somehow, what started off as a visit to her son and daughter-in-law became a massive family reunion, without her realising it. We still had a good time. We still all got to be together. I didn't have to take time off from work.
But it didn't quite end up how my mother thought it "should" be. Rather, it ended up like it was.
This applies to food. I was at the grocery store, shopping for vegetables and the rest. I was going to be cooking for a friend, and wanted to make him some of the South Indian dishes that my mother would cook when I was a kid. Lemon rice is one of those dishes that pretty much everyone loves, and is fairly simple to make. Unfortunately, the store's lemons looked awful. They were hard, and unripe, and didn't smell of citrus. Also, they were 2 for $1. Ouch! The limes, on the other hand, were plump, thin skinned, fragrant, and half the price.
If I had been one of those folks who's careful about following a recipe to the letter, I'd have ignored those beautiful limes, and opted for the bottled lemon juice. Instead, I decided to try the lemon rice recipe (which is one of those dishes that my mother gets asked to make pretty much universally) using limes instead of lemons. The flavour was divine! Who knew that you could change a fundamental component of a recipe that much, and still have it be delicious?
There have been times when I'm at a friend's house, and making hummus, and we don't have any lemon juice. I've managed to substitute the lemon with cider vinegar to excellent results. My friend who is allergic to soy was coming over for lunch. Instead of using the soy sauce that a particular recipe called for, I used a mix of chickpea miso dissolved in the broth from soaking shiitake mushrooms and kombu. It didn't taste like the original recipe, but it tasted better.
Whatever your challenge is, whether it be in life, or in cooking, face it with an open mind, and find a different solution. Or, in some cases, expect the odd turns and twists that life has sent your way, and enjoy them.
7/10/13
Reducing (not removing) fat
There are times when you want to give your soup or stew a bit more of a creamy consistency, without adding screaming amounts of fat to it. The "easy" way is to dump a bunch of coconut cream onto the whole thing, or creamed cashews/almonds (lightly roast the nuts, add them to a blender, add water until they're just covered, then blend on high until smooth; strain through a sieve for a finer consistency). Even though these are healthy fats, at the end of the day they're still fats. If you're trying to be sensible about your fat consumption, there are other ways to add some creaminess. I'm not suggesting that you skip the soy/almond/cashew/coconut milk all together. Instead, it's best if you use those ingredients in moderation, towards the end of cooking, while still building a creamy base. This is very easy to do, with a few simple ingredients.
Cauliflower 1 tsp canola, vegetable, or olive oil 1 large onion, diced 3 potatoes, peeled and diced 1 head cauliflower, chopped (stems and all) Water, to cover the vegetables 1/4 cup coconut milk/cashew cream Salt & Pepper to taste 3 scrapes of nutmeg Start in a stock pot, and add your onions. Crank up the heat to high, and let the onions sizzle. Add the oil at this point. The reason that you get the onions going in a dry pan is because you want the onion liquid to come out quickly, which lets you reduce the amount of oil that you'll need. If you added the oil first, some of it will evaporate, and the onions will tend to absorb them. This way, you're still going to get them cooked through, while adding the least amount of oil possible. Once the onions are softened and translucent, add the potatoes. Add enough water to cover the potatoes. Let the potatoes boil at a rapid pace, until they're half cooked. Then, add the cauliflower. Don't stir. Don't worry if there isn't enough water to cover the cauliflower. It's OK. They have plenty of water in them. Cover the lid, and let the whole thing cook until the cauliflower is tender, and the potatoes are cooked through. Then, with a blender or immersion blender, puree the soup until it's smooth and creamy. Stir through the coconut milk, and season to taste. At the end, scrape in a touch of nutmeg. If you only have ground nutmeg, add a couple of scant pinches. For some reason, nutmeg makes creamy things taste more creamy. Stir, and taste. The soup should be creamy and smooth. If it's not quite creamy enough for your liking, keep reading.
Tofu Soft tofu is a wonderful ingredient to have around. When you puree it with a bit of soup base, it lends a very creamy texture and taste to the soup, without adding much fat, and boosting the protein content. Take a ladle of soup, and puree it with about 6 oz of soft tofu. Stir through the soup, and taste for seasoning. You shouldn't be able to taste the tofu at all, as it's a small amount that gets incorporated into the soup. In fact, if you want a sort of tofu sour cream, just blend that same amount of tofu 1/4 cup soymilk, and 1/2 tsp of lemon. Puree in a blender until completely smooth. If it's not getting blended enough, add more soy milk as needed. You want the smallest amount of soy milk possible while still being able to blend the mixture. Taste for sourness. If it's too sour, add a bit more tofu, and blend again. If it's not sour enough, add a few squeezes more of lemon. When your soup is ready to serve, throw a dollop of the sour cream on top, and let each person blend it into their own portion.
I have a soy allergy. I'm sorry to hear that. Living with allergies can be tough, but it doesn't mean you can't eat healthy! If you can't have tofu, feel free to substitute some canned white beans (cannelini works great) with the same way I mentioned tofu above. You won't get that same thickness, but you will definitely get a lot of creaminess. In fact, there's no reason why you couldn't add some cooked white beans directly to the cooked soup base, and puree it directly there.
It's creamy. Now what? The reason I gave you this simple base is not to eat it as-is (although that would be extremely delicious). It's so that you have a creamy base with which to work into other recipes. For example, if you want a gravy, add a bit of nutritional yeast (about 3 TB per 1 cup of soup), 1 1/2 TB potato starch (or cornstarch works too), dissolved in 2 TB cold water, and whisk well. Heat over medium high heat until thickened. Let it cool. If you want it a bit thinner, whisk in a bit of water. It'll be an awesome, gluten free, low fat gravy that you can use over mashed potatoes, as a dipping sauce for cooked vegetables, or anything else that suits your fancy. To make a more substantial soup, feel free to add any additions you have lying around. I like a few handfuls of baby spinach in the bottom of the bowl with the piping hot soup ladled over it. It also works great with roasted vegetables, frozen peas, frozen corn (for a delicious tasting corn chowder, add frozen corn, and leftover diced roasted or baked potatoes), chopped green beans, roasted red peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, or whatever else your imagination can come up with. The point is that you have a starting point, from where you can expand and reach out further, until you find something that you enjoy, and is your own creation.
4/19/13
What's all this stuff?
Recently, we've been getting questions about our fermented foods that we feature on the menu. I wanted to explain a little of the process that goes towards making these foods, so that everyone has an idea of what it is you're eating, and how to make some of your own!
Kimchi. We used to order sauerkraut from the same people who supplied our pickles. They make excellent food, but it bothered me that we weren't making our own fermented cabbage when it's so easy and delicious when it's made in house. I can add a lot more flavour, and control exactly what goes into the dish, and I can control the quality of the ingredients to ensure that only the best of the best ends up in the final dish.
Kimchi is made from napa cabbage, daikon radish, scallions, ginger, garlic (a lot of garlic, actually), a bit of sugar (to get the cultures started), and salt. It's left to ferment for three days to get the initial juices going for the cabbage and daikon, and then it's aged for two weeks or so to mellow out some of the harsher flavours. By the time it's ready to use, the kimchi has become sour, and has all the flavour of the ginger and garlic infused through it.
We don't add any soy sauce or anything that's got an oceany taste (like nori, or kombu), or any hot pepper flakes, because we want the cabbage taste to come through. It tastes like a sauerkraut with a more rounded flavour. I'm glad that we switched to making our own kimchi, because it ensures that I know exactly what's going into it, and can make sure that it works well with the other ingredients in the dish it's served in (the Tempeh Rueben, to be specific).
Cashew Kefir (kee-fur). Kefir is yoghurt product. It's used in Eastern Europe and Russia. We make our kefir with rejuvelac, which is a fermented grain beverage. Rice or quinoa (or both) are soaked overnight. The water is discarded, and fresh water is added to the grains. They are left to ferment for three days to get the wild yeasts and bacteria going. That liquid is poured off, and used to soak the raw cashews. The cashews soak overnight in the rejuvelac, and are pureed the next morning in the blender. That is then left to ferment for another three days to really get properly sour.
The cashew kefir is the base for the cashew sour cream. More cashews are added to the liquidy cashew kefir, and blended together. That is then allowed to ferment for three more days, so that it gets thickened and tangy.
The instructions for making rejuvelac and a host of vegan dairy products (cheese, yoghurt, sour cream, cream cheese) can be found in Miyoko Schinner's book Artisan Vegan Cheese. It's filled with interesting and different cheeses, using techniques that dairy cheese makers use, but adapted to vegan ingredients and needs.
Kimchi. We used to order sauerkraut from the same people who supplied our pickles. They make excellent food, but it bothered me that we weren't making our own fermented cabbage when it's so easy and delicious when it's made in house. I can add a lot more flavour, and control exactly what goes into the dish, and I can control the quality of the ingredients to ensure that only the best of the best ends up in the final dish.
Kimchi is made from napa cabbage, daikon radish, scallions, ginger, garlic (a lot of garlic, actually), a bit of sugar (to get the cultures started), and salt. It's left to ferment for three days to get the initial juices going for the cabbage and daikon, and then it's aged for two weeks or so to mellow out some of the harsher flavours. By the time it's ready to use, the kimchi has become sour, and has all the flavour of the ginger and garlic infused through it.
We don't add any soy sauce or anything that's got an oceany taste (like nori, or kombu), or any hot pepper flakes, because we want the cabbage taste to come through. It tastes like a sauerkraut with a more rounded flavour. I'm glad that we switched to making our own kimchi, because it ensures that I know exactly what's going into it, and can make sure that it works well with the other ingredients in the dish it's served in (the Tempeh Rueben, to be specific).
Cashew Kefir (kee-fur). Kefir is yoghurt product. It's used in Eastern Europe and Russia. We make our kefir with rejuvelac, which is a fermented grain beverage. Rice or quinoa (or both) are soaked overnight. The water is discarded, and fresh water is added to the grains. They are left to ferment for three days to get the wild yeasts and bacteria going. That liquid is poured off, and used to soak the raw cashews. The cashews soak overnight in the rejuvelac, and are pureed the next morning in the blender. That is then left to ferment for another three days to really get properly sour.
The cashew kefir is the base for the cashew sour cream. More cashews are added to the liquidy cashew kefir, and blended together. That is then allowed to ferment for three more days, so that it gets thickened and tangy.
The instructions for making rejuvelac and a host of vegan dairy products (cheese, yoghurt, sour cream, cream cheese) can be found in Miyoko Schinner's book Artisan Vegan Cheese. It's filled with interesting and different cheeses, using techniques that dairy cheese makers use, but adapted to vegan ingredients and needs.
4/3/13
Customer Service: How to do it right.
Boss-man bought some crocs. He went onto their website, and picked out a pair for himself, and for his son. His fit perfectly, and he had no problem with them. His son's were too tight. We wanted to exchange them for a slightly larger size. The options are as follows:
- Go into a physical store, and return them, with your Internet receipt. They'll sell you a new pair. Now, seeing as how we bought the shoes online, there is a reason that we didn't go into a physical store: we lack time, or the inclination to schlep across town in a busy section of the city, which is perpetually crowded with crazy people looking to spend their money. We want the experience of shopping from home, getting our stuff, and moving on with life.
- Contact a customer service rep, who will create a return shipping label for you. This part was very easy, because they have an online chat function, meaning that I don't have to sit on the phone on hold, and listen to musak. Good deal. There is no option to just exchange the shoes for a bigger size. Whatever. We chose this option.
The issue with the second option, is that Crocs won't pay for return shipping. So now, we need to package the shoes into a bag, slap on the mailing label, go to the post office, and pay for shipping. Then, crocs issues you a coupon to use on your next order, so that you can get free shipping on your next pair. Essentially, this took entirely too much time and effort to fix a problem. It also means that we won't be buying from /their/ website, when so many others have much better policies.
Enter Zappos. I've shopped with them before, and trust them. When I had to buy a new pair of sneakers, I went through Zappos. Why? They offer free shipping to you AND back to them. When a pair of shoes doesn't fit right, you return them with a pre-paid mailing label. Then, you get an email saying, "We're so sorry that the shoes didn't fit right. To make up for your trouble, here have a free overnight shipping on your next order." Not only did they pay for me to get the shoes in the first place, they also paid for me to return them when they didn't fit right. Then, they rushed to make it even faster to get my next pair of shoes. At the time that I bought those shoes, I didn't have a lot of money to spend, so I could only afford to buy one pair of shoes at a time. This meant that I had to order a pair, try them on, and then send it back if it didn't fit well.
It took three tries, but Zappos was very good every single time I ordered.
Mind you, it's not a huge thing. Shipping a pair of crocs that you shove into a bag is not that expensive. However, I now have a bad feeling towards the crocs website, because they're making me go through more work than was necessary. Zappos, even though it did take a few tries, will have my business, because they made every step of the process very easy on me. So now, I asked Bossman to return the shoes, and just buy the next pair from Zappos, and move on with life. Congratulations, Zappos: you've got a new customer on board.
- Go into a physical store, and return them, with your Internet receipt. They'll sell you a new pair. Now, seeing as how we bought the shoes online, there is a reason that we didn't go into a physical store: we lack time, or the inclination to schlep across town in a busy section of the city, which is perpetually crowded with crazy people looking to spend their money. We want the experience of shopping from home, getting our stuff, and moving on with life.
- Contact a customer service rep, who will create a return shipping label for you. This part was very easy, because they have an online chat function, meaning that I don't have to sit on the phone on hold, and listen to musak. Good deal. There is no option to just exchange the shoes for a bigger size. Whatever. We chose this option.
The issue with the second option, is that Crocs won't pay for return shipping. So now, we need to package the shoes into a bag, slap on the mailing label, go to the post office, and pay for shipping. Then, crocs issues you a coupon to use on your next order, so that you can get free shipping on your next pair. Essentially, this took entirely too much time and effort to fix a problem. It also means that we won't be buying from /their/ website, when so many others have much better policies.
Enter Zappos. I've shopped with them before, and trust them. When I had to buy a new pair of sneakers, I went through Zappos. Why? They offer free shipping to you AND back to them. When a pair of shoes doesn't fit right, you return them with a pre-paid mailing label. Then, you get an email saying, "We're so sorry that the shoes didn't fit right. To make up for your trouble, here have a free overnight shipping on your next order." Not only did they pay for me to get the shoes in the first place, they also paid for me to return them when they didn't fit right. Then, they rushed to make it even faster to get my next pair of shoes. At the time that I bought those shoes, I didn't have a lot of money to spend, so I could only afford to buy one pair of shoes at a time. This meant that I had to order a pair, try them on, and then send it back if it didn't fit well.
It took three tries, but Zappos was very good every single time I ordered.
Mind you, it's not a huge thing. Shipping a pair of crocs that you shove into a bag is not that expensive. However, I now have a bad feeling towards the crocs website, because they're making me go through more work than was necessary. Zappos, even though it did take a few tries, will have my business, because they made every step of the process very easy on me. So now, I asked Bossman to return the shoes, and just buy the next pair from Zappos, and move on with life. Congratulations, Zappos: you've got a new customer on board.
3/6/13
You've got a friend in me.
When I was a kid, I loved to read. It helped me to escape from the loneliness of being the only Indian kid in a sea of more assimilated Americans. It wasn't just the fact that I was Indian that was the issue, but also the fact that I was shy and awkward. I loved being with people. Whenever my parents would take me out with them, I'd have lots of playmates (if there were children around), or conversations (if it was just adults). I could carry on about pretty much anything, from religion to science, because I really did enjoy watching documentaries, and asking questions.
So to go to school, and be more or less ignored by everyone was difficult to cope with. I liked being around people, but it's hard to fit in when your clothes are third-hand (first someone would give the clothes to my dad, who'd wear them out, then pass it on to my eldest brother, who'd pass it on to my second eldest brother, who'd pass it on to me). They were clean, and in good repair, but never of the name brands, and never a good fit. I didn't exactly have a choice of dressing fashionably. You wore what you got, and once in a while, mum would take us to garage sales, and let us get "new" clothes from there that were more our style, as long as they cost less than $1 a garment.
Suffice it to say that I hated going to school when it involved group projects, or interacting with the other children, but loved going when it involved learning new things. I would take my textbooks home at the beginning of the semester, engrossed in all the new knowledge that they were just giving away for free without charging me anything. By the time I'd come to class the next day, I'd have already finished that chapter ages ago. This didn't endear me to my classmates. (Although all my teachers loved me.)
Over time, I began to withdraw further and further into myself. I'd bring a book with me no matter where I went, even if I knew there were going to be other children around to play with. By the time I hit 8th grade, I was starting to find myself attracted to other boys, which made me withdraw even deeper into myself, because what if someone found out this terrible secret? The worst of it was that I wasn't fooling anyone. I'm so gay that you can spot it from outer space. Either way, it made me even more lonely and isolated.
By the time I hit high school, I was paranoid, and withdrawn, and only willing to talk with or hang out with a couple of people. For a natural extravert, this is torture. Being forced into seclusion is not pleasant for someone who draws energy from being around people. I found the drama club, and found other people as lonely as I was. Other people who could escape for a while into stories, and instead of just reading it to themselves, sharing those stories on the stage. It was a heady feeling.
However, as someone for whom friends are a novelty, it was difficult for me to maintain friendships, because I didn't really understand the protocols. I wasn't really good at knowing how much to share of myself, and how much of my talents to give away selflessly. It took until senior year of high school for me to perfect my public face, and keep my inner self sheltered carefully.
In college, I became acquainted with a whole different group of people. Unlike the ones in high school, all the students really wanted to be there (as tuition was really high, which meant that you'd only attend if you could finagle the finances). It was nice to be around other science nerds, who didn't care about your sexuality, but more so about your ability to absorb the information and build upon it. After I graduated, I'd built up a tight-knit circle of friends whom I'd regularly hang out with. It was a completely different feeling. I'd still reach for a book as soon as I was on a bus, or lazing about at home. I'd still spend hours in the library, sat in between the shelves, lost in a new book.
And then came the Internet (for me) around 2004. I was online a bit before then, but around 2004 was when I really began to get involved with online forums, and make friends there.
I've come full circle, however. My husband met me online, moved in after we got married, and has been with me since. My other online friends have slowly become in-person friends.
Even so, I still have a bit of insecurity around making new friends. I still have that leftover residue of being the kid that nobody wanted to talk to, or be around. I love being around people, and have a fairly wide net of acquaintances that I've met in person and online. I've got a pretty good handle on being able to strike up a conversation with complete strangers, and enjoy myself thoroughly.
It feels weird to know that people want to be my friend; that they want to hang out with me and come to my house. That they want to eat my cooking. That they seek me out.
In other words, if you do seek me out, don't be surprised if I immediately respond. I don't like to play games, and keep the other person waiting. If you want to make an overture, I'll most likely return it immediately.
But if you don't, and you prefer to keep your distance, don't worry. I've still got my books.
So to go to school, and be more or less ignored by everyone was difficult to cope with. I liked being around people, but it's hard to fit in when your clothes are third-hand (first someone would give the clothes to my dad, who'd wear them out, then pass it on to my eldest brother, who'd pass it on to my second eldest brother, who'd pass it on to me). They were clean, and in good repair, but never of the name brands, and never a good fit. I didn't exactly have a choice of dressing fashionably. You wore what you got, and once in a while, mum would take us to garage sales, and let us get "new" clothes from there that were more our style, as long as they cost less than $1 a garment.
Suffice it to say that I hated going to school when it involved group projects, or interacting with the other children, but loved going when it involved learning new things. I would take my textbooks home at the beginning of the semester, engrossed in all the new knowledge that they were just giving away for free without charging me anything. By the time I'd come to class the next day, I'd have already finished that chapter ages ago. This didn't endear me to my classmates. (Although all my teachers loved me.)
Over time, I began to withdraw further and further into myself. I'd bring a book with me no matter where I went, even if I knew there were going to be other children around to play with. By the time I hit 8th grade, I was starting to find myself attracted to other boys, which made me withdraw even deeper into myself, because what if someone found out this terrible secret? The worst of it was that I wasn't fooling anyone. I'm so gay that you can spot it from outer space. Either way, it made me even more lonely and isolated.
By the time I hit high school, I was paranoid, and withdrawn, and only willing to talk with or hang out with a couple of people. For a natural extravert, this is torture. Being forced into seclusion is not pleasant for someone who draws energy from being around people. I found the drama club, and found other people as lonely as I was. Other people who could escape for a while into stories, and instead of just reading it to themselves, sharing those stories on the stage. It was a heady feeling.
However, as someone for whom friends are a novelty, it was difficult for me to maintain friendships, because I didn't really understand the protocols. I wasn't really good at knowing how much to share of myself, and how much of my talents to give away selflessly. It took until senior year of high school for me to perfect my public face, and keep my inner self sheltered carefully.
In college, I became acquainted with a whole different group of people. Unlike the ones in high school, all the students really wanted to be there (as tuition was really high, which meant that you'd only attend if you could finagle the finances). It was nice to be around other science nerds, who didn't care about your sexuality, but more so about your ability to absorb the information and build upon it. After I graduated, I'd built up a tight-knit circle of friends whom I'd regularly hang out with. It was a completely different feeling. I'd still reach for a book as soon as I was on a bus, or lazing about at home. I'd still spend hours in the library, sat in between the shelves, lost in a new book.
And then came the Internet (for me) around 2004. I was online a bit before then, but around 2004 was when I really began to get involved with online forums, and make friends there.
I've come full circle, however. My husband met me online, moved in after we got married, and has been with me since. My other online friends have slowly become in-person friends.
Even so, I still have a bit of insecurity around making new friends. I still have that leftover residue of being the kid that nobody wanted to talk to, or be around. I love being around people, and have a fairly wide net of acquaintances that I've met in person and online. I've got a pretty good handle on being able to strike up a conversation with complete strangers, and enjoy myself thoroughly.
It feels weird to know that people want to be my friend; that they want to hang out with me and come to my house. That they want to eat my cooking. That they seek me out.
In other words, if you do seek me out, don't be surprised if I immediately respond. I don't like to play games, and keep the other person waiting. If you want to make an overture, I'll most likely return it immediately.
But if you don't, and you prefer to keep your distance, don't worry. I've still got my books.
1/1/13
Old friends
Old friends
Sat on their park bench like bookends
Man, that song gets me all choked up every time I hear it. I remember all the friends I've left behind, the friends I've lost track of, the friends whom I'll never forget even though they're not alive anymore. I think of the friends that I hope will be my own old friends, the friends who are old friends already.
Just wanted to take a moment to remember and think about all those people who have touched my life in the past, and thank them for it.
Happy new year.
12/24/12
"Perfect" Holidays
I hear it frequently, but I think it bears repeating: the perfect holiday is one where you reflect on the things you're thankful for, and take time to love yourself. Family is wonderful, friends are great, lovers are important, but you come before all of them. Your own well-being should be your biggest concern.
When you find yourself getting stressed, angry, frustrated, or annoyed in general about having to get something done (whether it be the drive to a loved one's house, the wrapping of the gifts, the cooking of the meal, the waiting on the delivery), just stop. Stop, and breathe. Breathe, and find one thing that you're thankful for. Then, thank the universe for it. Breathe again. Breathe some more. Find your grounding, find your centre, find your peace, and connect to it.
Breathe.
Why are you doing all these things? Because there is someone in your life who loves you, whom you love back. What is the purpose of going through any of the effort that you're going through? To show your love. To show your respect, your kindness, your thoughtfulness. To show your gratitude.
Nobody (who truly matters) is keeping score (hopefully; if anyone is, that person isn't worth your time). Yes, the slow traffic is frustrating. But think of what's waiting at the other end: people who will be happy to see you. Yes, the meal is hard work to cook. But think of what happens when it's cooked: delicious food is ready, to be shared with people you care about. Yes, it sucks when the food goes wrong. But think of what you have when that happens: a funny story to share with your friends, and then Chinese food afterwards. Yes, the other humans at the store are crazy. But you don't have to be. Breathe.
It will be OK, no matter how it turns out, how late you are, how little you have to spend. It's OK. You are loved. You are cherished by someone, even if it's yourself.
You are you.
When you find yourself getting stressed, angry, frustrated, or annoyed in general about having to get something done (whether it be the drive to a loved one's house, the wrapping of the gifts, the cooking of the meal, the waiting on the delivery), just stop. Stop, and breathe. Breathe, and find one thing that you're thankful for. Then, thank the universe for it. Breathe again. Breathe some more. Find your grounding, find your centre, find your peace, and connect to it.
Breathe.
Why are you doing all these things? Because there is someone in your life who loves you, whom you love back. What is the purpose of going through any of the effort that you're going through? To show your love. To show your respect, your kindness, your thoughtfulness. To show your gratitude.
Nobody (who truly matters) is keeping score (hopefully; if anyone is, that person isn't worth your time). Yes, the slow traffic is frustrating. But think of what's waiting at the other end: people who will be happy to see you. Yes, the meal is hard work to cook. But think of what happens when it's cooked: delicious food is ready, to be shared with people you care about. Yes, it sucks when the food goes wrong. But think of what you have when that happens: a funny story to share with your friends, and then Chinese food afterwards. Yes, the other humans at the store are crazy. But you don't have to be. Breathe.
It will be OK, no matter how it turns out, how late you are, how little you have to spend. It's OK. You are loved. You are cherished by someone, even if it's yourself.
You are you.
12/19/12
Rituals
So this morning, the AM cook asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee. He'd just made himself one, and was offering me one. He's a nice enough guy, but tends to be reserved, which is why I'm always encouraging when he reaches out to me. When he recognises something I'm cooking, he'll grin, and name it (he used to work at an Indian restaurant). I'll smile back in pleasant surprise, and confirm. When he enjoys something I've made, he's usually quick to tell me. But aside from those few interactions, he tends to keep (mostly) to himself.
That's fine, though, because he's always friendly, and professional at work. That's really all I can ask from someone.
Anyway. Anyone who's known me for a while knows that caffeine hits me hard. If I have any in the morning, I'll be up all night. This goes so far as to give me issues with soda, green tea, black tea, coffee, or anything else containing caffeine. I knew that the coffee would likely have me wired all day. However, here he was, reaching out to me. I didn't want to refuse. As I sit here, sipping this wonderful tasting latte he made me, I started thinking about how we all use food as a way to connect with each other. How rituals like the morning coffee ritual at work tends to bring people together, even if they're not necessarily having a long conversation over said coffee.
Think about it. What do most people remember about their favourite holidays, aside from the enjoyable times that they have with their family? The festive meal. This goes double for any religion (like Judaism or Hinduism) that has prescribed dishes for said festive meal. On Pesach, you eat those bitter herbs, that horseradish stuff, the fruit & date mixture, the matza. On Thai Pongal (a Tamil harvest festival), you eat bowls of sweet or savoury pongal (lentils and rice dish, also called kichadi in the North). These foods are woven into the fabric of those holidays, and are important parts of anyone's memories of those holidays. It's a Very Big Deal.
So what do you do when your morals and the specific holiday in question don't quite line up? Do you eat before you leave home, and skulk in a corner with your plate of dry salad? Do you bring something with you? Do you starve? Do you respectfully (and far in advance) ask for something special to be made for you?
I don't know. The answer will vary depending on your situation. Here, however, I'm going to cover a couple of dishes that anyone can sort out, anywhere they live, even if they don't have access to Weird Vegan Ingredients™. Whether you ask someone to make it for you, make it yourself, or make a quick trip to the supermarket on the way there (or once you arrive there), these are all dishes that can be sorted out fairly quickly, with a minimum of fuss.
I encourage you, however, to ask the host if they'd be willing to make you the thing, if you can. Why? Because my coworker this morning got a good feeling by doing something nice for me: making me a cup of coffee. People reach out to each other with gifts of food. Whether that dish is complicated like a tofu lasagna, or simple, like a cup of coffee with some soymilk in, it's the gesture that matters, not the specific food. Either way, I hope you get some ideas on how to figure out what to eat when you're in non-vegan territory.
Roasted Potatoes For as much as I adore green vegetables, roasted potatoes have a sweet spot in my heart. They're so delicious, and easy to sort out, no matter where you are. Depending on the neighbourhood you're in, you may or may not be able to find all different kinds of potatoes. My favourites are the fingerling potatoes, and the baby red potatoes, but it will work with whatever you have. Toss the potatoes in just enough oil to coat them, and lay them (in a single layer) onto a baking sheet. If you're using a typical baking sheet, you'll need 2 of them for a 5-lb bag. Roast at 350°F for 40 minutes, then remove from the oven. Toss lightly to re-coat in the oil, and crank up the heat to 450°F. Let them roast at the higher heat for another 20 minutes or so.
Pasta with Tomato Sauce: A quick, cheater version of tomato sauce involves getting an onion, a can of crushed tomatoes (use diced or whole if that's all you can find), some olive oil, and some fresh herbs of your choice. Cook the onions in olive oil until they're softened. Add the herbs, and stir around with the onions until you can smell them. I personally like dried oregano, and basil, but you can use whatever you have on hand. Add the can of crushed tomatoes, and cook over high heat until the sauce reaches the thickness you want. For me, it takes about five to seven minutes. You may need more or less time. Then, dump the cooked pasta into the sauce pot, and stir to combine. Let the whole thing come to a boil, and shut off the heat. Sprinkle on a bit more olive oil, some salt and black pepper, and you're set.
QUICK Beans & Rice: There are times when beans and rice just get the job done. If you or the person in question doesn't know how to cook rice, just get some from the local friendly Chinese restaurant. Listen, I know I'm supposed to encourage you to cook, but sometimes, you have to work with what you have. To make really fast beans, you'll need a can of beans, some curry powder, and an onion. Cook the onion in oil, along with 2 tsp of curry powder (for every 1 can of beans, you'll want one large onion, 2 TB of oil, and the 2 tsp of curry powder). When the onions soften, add the can of beans, water and all, and cook on high until the beans come to a boil. Add the rice, stir to combine, and keep cooking on high until it's thickened to your liking. Serve with salsa, guacamole, or any kind of raw vegetables you like (I like sliced cucumbers and carrots). The whole thing takes like ten minutes when you've got the rice cooked already.
Cheater Pilaf: Technically, pilaf should be the best quality spices, along with the best basmati rice you can find, and fresh cut vegetables. And then you realise that you're in a town where the good grocery store has three varieties of potato, five varieties of onion, and a few wilted leaves of something that looks like lettuce, but you don't actually eat it. It's for decoration, apparently. Even the dodgiest grocery store has a bag of mixed frozen vegetables. Every store I've been to has at least a box of rice in there somewhere.
Here's how you do it. Purists will be cringing, but it does taste delicious at the end of it all. Put two cups of rice to cook. In a separate pot, cook 1 large onion, 3 cloves of garlic, and 1/2 tsp of turmeric in 3 TB of whatever oil you have lying around. If you don't have turmeric, use about 2 tsp of curry powder. When the onions and garlic are softened, add 12 - 16 oz of frozen mixed vegetables of your liking. I'm fond of the "california mix" (it has cauliflower, broccoli, and peppers or something of that sort). Sautee the vegetables until they're not frozen anymore. Season with salt, red pepper flakes, and black pepper. Keep cooking until the vegetables are cooked. When the rice is cooked, toss it through the cooked vegetables, and serve.
If you can get access to couscous, millet, or quinoa, this works equally well with them.
Aside from the usual suspects of hummus and pita (or sliced carrots, if you're gluten free), salsa/guac and tortilla chips, white beans & rosemary dip with crostini, bruschetta, or any other number of easily vegan dishes, these are just some ideas to get you thinking about vegan food in terms that even the most basic cook can master. Mind you, if the person who's cooking is more creative, please go for the best you can find by all means.
That's fine, though, because he's always friendly, and professional at work. That's really all I can ask from someone.
Anyway. Anyone who's known me for a while knows that caffeine hits me hard. If I have any in the morning, I'll be up all night. This goes so far as to give me issues with soda, green tea, black tea, coffee, or anything else containing caffeine. I knew that the coffee would likely have me wired all day. However, here he was, reaching out to me. I didn't want to refuse. As I sit here, sipping this wonderful tasting latte he made me, I started thinking about how we all use food as a way to connect with each other. How rituals like the morning coffee ritual at work tends to bring people together, even if they're not necessarily having a long conversation over said coffee.
Think about it. What do most people remember about their favourite holidays, aside from the enjoyable times that they have with their family? The festive meal. This goes double for any religion (like Judaism or Hinduism) that has prescribed dishes for said festive meal. On Pesach, you eat those bitter herbs, that horseradish stuff, the fruit & date mixture, the matza. On Thai Pongal (a Tamil harvest festival), you eat bowls of sweet or savoury pongal (lentils and rice dish, also called kichadi in the North). These foods are woven into the fabric of those holidays, and are important parts of anyone's memories of those holidays. It's a Very Big Deal.
So what do you do when your morals and the specific holiday in question don't quite line up? Do you eat before you leave home, and skulk in a corner with your plate of dry salad? Do you bring something with you? Do you starve? Do you respectfully (and far in advance) ask for something special to be made for you?
I don't know. The answer will vary depending on your situation. Here, however, I'm going to cover a couple of dishes that anyone can sort out, anywhere they live, even if they don't have access to Weird Vegan Ingredients™. Whether you ask someone to make it for you, make it yourself, or make a quick trip to the supermarket on the way there (or once you arrive there), these are all dishes that can be sorted out fairly quickly, with a minimum of fuss.
I encourage you, however, to ask the host if they'd be willing to make you the thing, if you can. Why? Because my coworker this morning got a good feeling by doing something nice for me: making me a cup of coffee. People reach out to each other with gifts of food. Whether that dish is complicated like a tofu lasagna, or simple, like a cup of coffee with some soymilk in, it's the gesture that matters, not the specific food. Either way, I hope you get some ideas on how to figure out what to eat when you're in non-vegan territory.
Roasted Potatoes For as much as I adore green vegetables, roasted potatoes have a sweet spot in my heart. They're so delicious, and easy to sort out, no matter where you are. Depending on the neighbourhood you're in, you may or may not be able to find all different kinds of potatoes. My favourites are the fingerling potatoes, and the baby red potatoes, but it will work with whatever you have. Toss the potatoes in just enough oil to coat them, and lay them (in a single layer) onto a baking sheet. If you're using a typical baking sheet, you'll need 2 of them for a 5-lb bag. Roast at 350°F for 40 minutes, then remove from the oven. Toss lightly to re-coat in the oil, and crank up the heat to 450°F. Let them roast at the higher heat for another 20 minutes or so.
Pasta with Tomato Sauce: A quick, cheater version of tomato sauce involves getting an onion, a can of crushed tomatoes (use diced or whole if that's all you can find), some olive oil, and some fresh herbs of your choice. Cook the onions in olive oil until they're softened. Add the herbs, and stir around with the onions until you can smell them. I personally like dried oregano, and basil, but you can use whatever you have on hand. Add the can of crushed tomatoes, and cook over high heat until the sauce reaches the thickness you want. For me, it takes about five to seven minutes. You may need more or less time. Then, dump the cooked pasta into the sauce pot, and stir to combine. Let the whole thing come to a boil, and shut off the heat. Sprinkle on a bit more olive oil, some salt and black pepper, and you're set.
QUICK Beans & Rice: There are times when beans and rice just get the job done. If you or the person in question doesn't know how to cook rice, just get some from the local friendly Chinese restaurant. Listen, I know I'm supposed to encourage you to cook, but sometimes, you have to work with what you have. To make really fast beans, you'll need a can of beans, some curry powder, and an onion. Cook the onion in oil, along with 2 tsp of curry powder (for every 1 can of beans, you'll want one large onion, 2 TB of oil, and the 2 tsp of curry powder). When the onions soften, add the can of beans, water and all, and cook on high until the beans come to a boil. Add the rice, stir to combine, and keep cooking on high until it's thickened to your liking. Serve with salsa, guacamole, or any kind of raw vegetables you like (I like sliced cucumbers and carrots). The whole thing takes like ten minutes when you've got the rice cooked already.
Cheater Pilaf: Technically, pilaf should be the best quality spices, along with the best basmati rice you can find, and fresh cut vegetables. And then you realise that you're in a town where the good grocery store has three varieties of potato, five varieties of onion, and a few wilted leaves of something that looks like lettuce, but you don't actually eat it. It's for decoration, apparently. Even the dodgiest grocery store has a bag of mixed frozen vegetables. Every store I've been to has at least a box of rice in there somewhere.
Here's how you do it. Purists will be cringing, but it does taste delicious at the end of it all. Put two cups of rice to cook. In a separate pot, cook 1 large onion, 3 cloves of garlic, and 1/2 tsp of turmeric in 3 TB of whatever oil you have lying around. If you don't have turmeric, use about 2 tsp of curry powder. When the onions and garlic are softened, add 12 - 16 oz of frozen mixed vegetables of your liking. I'm fond of the "california mix" (it has cauliflower, broccoli, and peppers or something of that sort). Sautee the vegetables until they're not frozen anymore. Season with salt, red pepper flakes, and black pepper. Keep cooking until the vegetables are cooked. When the rice is cooked, toss it through the cooked vegetables, and serve.
If you can get access to couscous, millet, or quinoa, this works equally well with them.
Aside from the usual suspects of hummus and pita (or sliced carrots, if you're gluten free), salsa/guac and tortilla chips, white beans & rosemary dip with crostini, bruschetta, or any other number of easily vegan dishes, these are just some ideas to get you thinking about vegan food in terms that even the most basic cook can master. Mind you, if the person who's cooking is more creative, please go for the best you can find by all means.
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