under soapy hot
water and most banal chore
skin glows red with joy
7.30.2009
7.27.2009
day 28
day 28 on kitchen island. everyone has deserted me, and i am left to fend for myself. luck was on my side this evening, though, and i was able to spear a small fish.
on saturday i ate quinoa for the first time. people had boasted about this complete protein, and after eating it, i see what all the fuss was about. this dish had a basil-lemon dressing and was served cold with craisins and raspberries. tonight i was determined to recreate it, but dominicks had no quinoa to be found, so instead i bought cous cous. the end result was nothing like the dish from saturday, but considering i dumped all the ingredients for the cous cous into the pot at the same time as opposed to letting the liquid ones boil first then adding the cous cous, i'm pretty pleased it's even edible.
i truly did cook up a small fish--a salmon. that was terrifying. try cooking a meat that's the same color before it's prepared as it's supposed to be after it's prepared. these things should come with some kind of bell or light to indicate their ready. i think i cooked it in a little too much oil, but that's probably for the best as it helps mask the fish's overdone texture.
to add some green to the plate, i did up some broccoli and green beans very plain but tasty. they went well with the salmon unlike the cous cous which was sort of like eating peanut butter with bacon-- i've done it, but most wouldn't.
i paired this dish with a screw top red wine that had been allowed to breath for exactly 7 days. because this was a last minute discovery and a much needed drink, it was consumed at a slightly cooler temperature than typically recommended--refrigerator temperature.
no fires, no food poisoning, no trips to the hospital.
all in all, quite a success i'd say!
* * *
okay, so i'm not really stranded on an island, although when it comes to cooking i often feel that way. i'm giving it my best attempt, though, and with the friends i have and the knowledge they have i should be able to make at least 4 dishes come 2012.on saturday i ate quinoa for the first time. people had boasted about this complete protein, and after eating it, i see what all the fuss was about. this dish had a basil-lemon dressing and was served cold with craisins and raspberries. tonight i was determined to recreate it, but dominicks had no quinoa to be found, so instead i bought cous cous. the end result was nothing like the dish from saturday, but considering i dumped all the ingredients for the cous cous into the pot at the same time as opposed to letting the liquid ones boil first then adding the cous cous, i'm pretty pleased it's even edible.
i truly did cook up a small fish--a salmon. that was terrifying. try cooking a meat that's the same color before it's prepared as it's supposed to be after it's prepared. these things should come with some kind of bell or light to indicate their ready. i think i cooked it in a little too much oil, but that's probably for the best as it helps mask the fish's overdone texture.
to add some green to the plate, i did up some broccoli and green beans very plain but tasty. they went well with the salmon unlike the cous cous which was sort of like eating peanut butter with bacon-- i've done it, but most wouldn't.
i paired this dish with a screw top red wine that had been allowed to breath for exactly 7 days. because this was a last minute discovery and a much needed drink, it was consumed at a slightly cooler temperature than typically recommended--refrigerator temperature.
no fires, no food poisoning, no trips to the hospital.
all in all, quite a success i'd say!
7.26.2009
once, i was a little girl, and i didn't ask questions. i talked to strangers about their dogs and favorite colors. in the middle of the day i would announce an evening concert and perform a tap dance wearing a polka-dotted leotard and pink plastic pearls. i yelled when i was angry, and i cried when my animal balloon popped. i didn't hesitate.
then, i was very old and reminiscing one early morning, huddled into the paisley comforter, unable to sleep because of aches. i contrasted this little girl to the decades that ensued and wondered where all that uninhibited zest went. moreover, i wondered why i wasted all those years--all those years that went by like tics on the second hand--worrying rather than doing.
then, i was very old and reminiscing one early morning, huddled into the paisley comforter, unable to sleep because of aches. i contrasted this little girl to the decades that ensued and wondered where all that uninhibited zest went. moreover, i wondered why i wasted all those years--all those years that went by like tics on the second hand--worrying rather than doing.
7.17.2009
6.22.2009
6.16.2009
death by cotton
tomorrow my nephew turns 9. i was 14 when we was born, and i have no recollection what 14 felt like anymore. on the phone yesterday my mom sounded exactly like my grandmother used to: she kept interrupting me because she thought she knew what i was going to say, or else she just couldn't really hear. i've been out of high school for a decade.
on monday i was sitting on the red line subway with my sunglasses on and my ipod in. i wasn't in a bad mood by any means, just in the post-work zone out. i was listening to grizzly bear's veckatimest for the second time. something about the music, the motion of the train, the way i had isolated myself in this sea of people, it all led me to thinking about death. in the time it took to go from the chicago stop to the north/clybourn stop, i felt more alarmed about dying than i had in a long time. i used to say i wasn't afraid to die, and i think that was true. i also don't think i was looking it square in the eyes.
this morning, when walking to the el, there were thousands of the those little cottony things that come from who knows where this time of year. there were so many it looked like it was snowing, and i was admiring the beauty of the feathery wisps and marveling at this snow scene in june when all of the sudden one of those little fuckers flew directly into my eye!
that's what i imagined death to be like the other day on the train.
on monday i was sitting on the red line subway with my sunglasses on and my ipod in. i wasn't in a bad mood by any means, just in the post-work zone out. i was listening to grizzly bear's veckatimest for the second time. something about the music, the motion of the train, the way i had isolated myself in this sea of people, it all led me to thinking about death. in the time it took to go from the chicago stop to the north/clybourn stop, i felt more alarmed about dying than i had in a long time. i used to say i wasn't afraid to die, and i think that was true. i also don't think i was looking it square in the eyes.
this morning, when walking to the el, there were thousands of the those little cottony things that come from who knows where this time of year. there were so many it looked like it was snowing, and i was admiring the beauty of the feathery wisps and marveling at this snow scene in june when all of the sudden one of those little fuckers flew directly into my eye!
that's what i imagined death to be like the other day on the train.
6.13.2009
i cannot lay out these pictures/captions as i wish.
my parents have finally mastered the technology of a scanner. in their excitment they've been sending family photos all day. i love looking at old photographs, even if they're not of my family. there's something about the colors and textures that amazes me as if the world really looked different then. i love the picture of my grandpa. there are so many of him like this that make me nostalgic for a time i never experienced.
my brother striking a deal with yosemite sam. probably selling him his soul. camp richard is the overnight camp where my brothers went. apparently one of the camp counselor's told chris such a scary story that it has "scarred him for life." he hates talking about camp richard, which i find hilarious. my dad with the governor of illinois. what kind of creepy handshake is that?
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