tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-319604872024-03-07T01:15:18.436-03:00Eating Pie ElsewhereStill in touch.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.comBlogger216125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-50312971767555045002013-02-01T04:00:00.000-03:002013-02-01T04:00:00.637-03:0030 DaysThirty days from today I am leaving for Chile.
The night I left, I didn't think I'd ever go back. A boy took me to the airport and we kissed good-bye and he said that maybe he'd come see me in New York. At the time, I wasn't even sure I was coming back to New York. But I was sure that I wasn't going to be waiting around for this boy. It was sweet of him to take me to the airport. He even bought me a keychain in the shape of an Easter Island Moai. To remember him. I lost it. Perhaps this sounds cold or heartless, but I want you all to rest assured that he is very happily living with a girl he started seeing right after I left. Or maybe it was even before I left that they started seeing one another.
I walked through security and waited around a bit, then got on the plane. I was getting settled into my seat for the overnight flight when my rickety Nokia cell phone started ringing. And it wasn't the boy I had left at the security gate, it was Carlos. He said he was glad I answered, that he thought I was gone. I said that I was gone almost, but I was glad he called. He said he had been thinking about me all day. I said I had been thinking about him. It was hard to hear and they were making announcements over the loudspeaker, so I had to hang up quickly. He said he'd talk to me the next day.
I didn't really think he would. The next day I would land in Houston, then Dallas, then Boston. My dad would pick me up at the airport and we would go get a root beer and a bagel before we went back to my parents' house. I would snap photos of the dinner my mom cooked (salad and fish, a twelve dollar bottle of wine... but it was at home). The sheets would have the supple softness that isn't possible when all of your laundry is air dried. Maybe I would sleep for days.
Whenever I surfaced again, there were messages from Carlos. He couldn't stop thinking about me, about our last night together. He thought it was crazy, to be thinking about it so much. He wanted to know how he could call me and when.
That was almost three years ago now. I spent months wishing and thinking about seeing Carlos again. About how it could work between us. We talked as much as we could, sent messages more often. Talked about plans, about futures, but always got caught up on logistics. And eventually I gave up. Because it was too difficult to be happy being where I was when I spent all of my time wishing I was with someone 5,000 miles away. Because he always seemed ardent, but never practical. We didn't speak for a year and a half. I tried on another love. And it helped for a while, but eventually it fell away.
When we started talking again it was an accident. He messaged me out of the blue, friendly. He asked and I mentioned that the old love was gone, that it was over. That it was never... Well. And I told him that I still think about him. And he told me that he never stopped thinking about me.
It's easier, nicer, to gloss over the intervening months. The attempts to plan. The impatience I felt with his visa process. My lack of trust, in him and in my own feelings. I'll return to them sometime to give you the full story. But then I realized that the only thing that was stopping me from knowing whether this vague, unbelievable love feeling that I had been having for the last three years was real, was a plane ticket.
And in thirty days, I will know.
Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-83634823004063642682013-01-31T03:53:00.001-03:002013-01-31T03:53:56.746-03:00Fresh StartsI got an email the other day from a dear friend. I don't think she's an "old friend," not because I have only known her a short time (I've known her for longer than seems possible). And not (unfortunately) because I am currently in such great touch with her. She's not an old friend because there is no bookend on our relationship. But it was one of those lovely, out of the blue, missives that makes keeping in touch feel like a much easier project after all. Which is true and not true. It's very easy. But you have to do it. Like laundry. Simple to do but overwhelming when you put it off. Exactly. Keeping in touch is like laundry. I should have been a poet.
Anyway, I wrote an email to this friend, updating her a bit on the basics. But she mentioned that she still sometimes looks for news of me on this blog. And it occured to me that eventhough from my perspective there seems to be very little to relate about me, I still have lots of keeping in touch to do. There are so many things I haven't told you over the years, that I know you'd like to know. And because there are all of these limitations keeping you from pulling up a chair in my yellow-walled kitchen and talking it all over with me, I think I should talk to you here.
The thing is, I cannot write about my life right now. At least not directly. Really because I hate how unhappy I sound when I talk about my life. Hate it because I am unhappy, yes, clearly. But also hate the way I can't see my situation in any more positive light. There is one. And I know I'll see it some day, but right now it's beyond me.
So I am going to tell you a story. It's a story that I have been wanting to tell you, my dear- but not really <i>old</i>- friends. And you'll like it because it's a love story. I think. I don't know the ending yet, but I'll tell it in parts. And then when I go off and try for this- very possibly- crazy idea of a relationship you'll be hoping that it works out. Or maybe when you hear about it all you'll call me on the phone to tell me what an idiot I am. But that might be a nice ending too, right? Cause we'll be talking on the phone and you'll be giving me advice, just like when we saw eachother all the time. Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-82876642758623707172011-04-01T14:52:00.005-03:002011-04-01T15:11:11.064-03:00Victory QuicheThanks to my doting father, I recently received a beautiful, custom built maple counter top for my kitchen. And thanks to my doting boyfriend, it is finally installed. I made a quiche to celebrate having twice the counter space to work on. Hooray for dads! Hooray for boyfriends! Hooray for open plan apartments! Hooray for job-quitting!*<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODMFyDzyO8Fv28qw-J9bcH2OxmfzkWUhF-GiQPqtDoeHnfDw4t6mnYV0qNQqIGNWA_eyT9idRxuw0EHrc32smYKmKTsurQE1G1zom170y7-A2-MW8D20h3IT_2dp1VaLeNw101g/s1600/kitchen1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODMFyDzyO8Fv28qw-J9bcH2OxmfzkWUhF-GiQPqtDoeHnfDw4t6mnYV0qNQqIGNWA_eyT9idRxuw0EHrc32smYKmKTsurQE1G1zom170y7-A2-MW8D20h3IT_2dp1VaLeNw101g/s320/kitchen1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590678444244103570" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Tg21DsxRX82nmnJdx3FKHCPOrzxFeCrkheJteGgjttER8HbthIzi5xca58TfK56CuEq50RSGM1j7a1A4UtLHR7R7TPUdfIAGfoDliyPo-SMMob2dXl683sYoaBTEnwZf-FXdDA/s1600/kitchen2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Tg21DsxRX82nmnJdx3FKHCPOrzxFeCrkheJteGgjttER8HbthIzi5xca58TfK56CuEq50RSGM1j7a1A4UtLHR7R7TPUdfIAGfoDliyPo-SMMob2dXl683sYoaBTEnwZf-FXdDA/s320/kitchen2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590678624173135154" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWIQ1tHCrLQ9J2Dc0InDmFAkiZuk2BW63glmcnRsm6MoZx5XcR7E82q0BX8bqCTgF51OLHX9-p87mwuxDxFz6kLZ3BllXAsupo39InfhhcDB0L6I_o24OjS4zB1DpC24iLx2Aiw/s1600/counterquiche.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWIQ1tHCrLQ9J2Dc0InDmFAkiZuk2BW63glmcnRsm6MoZx5XcR7E82q0BX8bqCTgF51OLHX9-p87mwuxDxFz6kLZ3BllXAsupo39InfhhcDB0L6I_o24OjS4zB1DpC24iLx2Aiw/s320/counterquiche.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590678822530880146" /></a><br /><br />For the curious, a Victory Quiche is made with a whole wheat crust, shitake mushrooms sauteed with shallots and butter, bacon and cheddar cheese.<br /><br />*See how I just snuck that in?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-84384395523777512342011-03-30T10:09:00.002-03:002011-03-30T10:10:43.451-03:00RecommendedI know it doesn't really count, but I made <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2009/01/warm-butternut-squash-and-chickpea-salad/">this</a> last night (another miraculously delicious meal accomplished without any grocery shopping). It is so good, I am about to eat it again for breakfast.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-8620507539945761222011-03-15T19:23:00.008-03:002011-03-15T21:43:34.277-03:00Pi Day:A Candied Bacon is PossibleI must begin my pie day post with two warnings. The first is: no matter how many pies you have made, you must never be cavalier about how much water you add to your dough. Wet dough won't roll out. It's as simple as that. The second warning is more dire: you might have the means of making candied bacon in your house right now. I know, you're thinking, "Candied bacon is a rare delicacy, reserved for artisan confectioners with booths at flea markets and bespoke neckties." But it is not. It is easy to make. And- unsurprisingly- it's a delicious addition to nearly anything.<br /><br />I decided late in the game to observe the pun-influenced celebration of pie on March 14. Things have been pretty tough in my professional life lately and it seemed like a good way to blow off steam. And nothing makes a bad week shorter than coming home to a slice of pie every night. I wanted to do something fun and interesting, but I didn't want it to be too experimental. I thought about variations on crust and variations on filling. In the end, I was inspired by two recent desserts I've eaten. One was the promising, but ultimately disappointing Bacon Apple Cheddar Pie at <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/the-blue-stove-brooklyn-2">The Blue Stove</a> (it is a peril to my health that this store is so near my house) and the other was a simple but transcendent apple crisp at <a href="http://www.dumontrestaurant.com/">Dumont</a>.<br /><br />Over the course of the day I tossed around various apple pie experiments I might try. A part wheat crust. Cheddar cheese. Peanut butter. I remembered reading a recipe recently that described a simple method for making candied bacon. Eager to correct the failed crumble topping from my Pancake Bread Pudding, I began to dream up an apple pie topped with crumbled, salty-sweet bacon bits. Many of you know that I am no stranger to having a piece of bacon or two with a slice of apple pie. I can think of few breakfasts I would rather eat. I had never put bacon into a pie before because it seemed so likely to take a wrong turn (as in the case of the Blue Stove). By candying the bacon I could preserve it's crispy texture and prevent the fat from overpowering the other ingredients. I laughed a bit to myself, imagining crunchy bits of bacon and pecan all over toothsome, sweet apples. How was I the first to think of this??<br /><br />I was pleased with the plan. A simple apple pie with a crumb topping. I began to make my crust, whirling the ingredients (I do half butter, half shortening) in my Cuisinart. Then I made my big error. My mother, who is my personal pie guru, swears that while the food processor is ideal for mixing your fats with your flour, you can only get a proper texture by adding the water to bind the crust by hand. I have gambled in the past and won, but yesterday I was not so lucky. The crust seemed softer as I put it in the fridge to chill, but I assumed that was because I had used room temperature shortening (oh vain mortal!). When I tried to roll it out the first time it got all over the rolling pin and was impossible to lift. So I added flour and chilled it again. Still the crust was completely impossible. I ended up finger pressing it into the pan, chastened by the experience. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXqFV1x7OqtZJj8Zp3uSSz8R1kZhnZdxd42NEO3fZyDS5BCsnwqjEUbS74Nxm58dABpcz01qS3OT6B8Vo64Fgj2gNRD3Rhc5yfUlpbf2Rm2qU-qX4IevpTnLRREmy4IF1GJyJP0g/s1600/pieindrged.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXqFV1x7OqtZJj8Zp3uSSz8R1kZhnZdxd42NEO3fZyDS5BCsnwqjEUbS74Nxm58dABpcz01qS3OT6B8Vo64Fgj2gNRD3Rhc5yfUlpbf2Rm2qU-qX4IevpTnLRREmy4IF1GJyJP0g/s320/pieindrged.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584470523824058722" /></a><br /><br />As I mentioned the candied bacon was a total breeze. I took three strips of bacon from the freezer (I freeze bacon in individual servings because I am a lonely spinster) and let them defrost. I covered both sides of each strip with maple syrup and put them under the broiler. I turned them pretty regularly with tongs and took them out before they looked too crispy. Once it had cooled, the bacon was shiny and hard (do not try to drain it, it is very sticky when hot). I chopped it up into little pieces and mixed it with pecans, butter and brown sugar. I tasted the mixture to make sure it wasn't poison. It was not. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtY0UmSRDVGl9i0oYHZuhFQxOYPqvHfuHUkAsZmoks9_qlh5_dgth4bTmC5mFoa5N3a6DdsjhX1b9MrpF7v4zc1qsfPI_FjTvDbpxkF9vq3kdp71_rMDC1h0I3nOTl176t-W5ow/s1600/piedone.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtY0UmSRDVGl9i0oYHZuhFQxOYPqvHfuHUkAsZmoks9_qlh5_dgth4bTmC5mFoa5N3a6DdsjhX1b9MrpF7v4zc1qsfPI_FjTvDbpxkF9vq3kdp71_rMDC1h0I3nOTl176t-W5ow/s320/piedone.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584470876658637602" /></a><br /><br />I used two apples (one granny smith, one red of some sort) tossed with a couple teaspoons of sugar and cinnamon (I repeated the process of mixing the cinnamon and sugar beforehand). I filled the crust and sprinkled on the topping. I baked the pie for about 25 minutes. The apples still had a bit of crunch. The topping didn't cover the pie tightly so I wanted to be sure that the filling didn't dry out too much. I have to say, this is one to repeat. The crust wasn't pretty, but the flavor was great. I really liked the texture of the apples (gotta slice em real, real thin). And the scant distribution of the topping kept it from getting too rich.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-31978058916191629862011-03-09T11:43:00.007-03:002011-03-10T00:53:23.015-03:00Beta Test: Pancake Bread PuddingIt seems writing this blog has inspired me to be a bit more creative in my kitchen endeavors. It will also (hopefully) motivate me to cook more methodically: try something out, see what works, try again. I read a lot of recipes. I guess my most recent experiment was inspired by pudding week on <a href="http://www.food52.com/">Food 52</a>. Puddings are so delicious and, in many cases, you can incorporate leftovers. And I love cooking with leftovers. So there you have it.<br /><br />Perhaps you have never had the problem of leftover pancakes? I must confess that I really don't like pancakes very much. 19 times out of 20 I will chose a savory breakfast over a sweet one (yesterday's breakfast was braised cabbage!). But on Sunday pancakes seemed like a good idea, mostly because it was rainy and I had all of the ingredients in the house. The simplest way to deal with leftover pancakes is obviously to heat them up and enjoy them for breakfast another day. But my mind was stuck on pudding and so I began to concoct a recipe.<br /><br /><b>Crust</b><br />I started out reading recipes for bread pudding. Mostly I was looking at milk and egg ratios, but I also noticed that Paula Deen (that minx!) <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/the-best-bread-pudding-recipe/index.html">puts a crust on hers</a>. Crunchy, buttery edges on a bread pudding? Yes, please! Deen uses butter, pecans and sugar for her crust (a fun game is to start the sentence "Deen uses butter, pecans and sugar for her..." and see how many true statements you can make). That idea swirled around in my head and became a sort of paste of almond flour, melted butter and brown sugar. The forward thinking among you will realize that this is (a) not going to distribute evenly across the top of a pudding and (b) not going to crisp up without burning the shit out of the rest of the pudding. So, <span style="font-weight:bold;">pudding crust is half baked idea number one.</span><br /><br /><b>Custard</b><br />I knew that this bread pudding was not going to rely on the pancakes soaking up eggy custard for its texture. But since pancakes are eggy already, I figured, "no big deal." I kept thinking of components that would create a really rich, heavy dessert. Since this was a Monday night project, I thought it would be best to scale back on richness. So I used whole milk where I might have used cream and decided to forgo the idea of mixing melted butter into the dairy mixture (you read one Paula Deen recipe and you start thinking about pouring melted butter into everything!). I used two eggs and one cup of milk (arbitrarily decided from glancing at the bread pudding recipe currently on my computer screen). I thought about parcooking the custard a bit so it would form up before I layered it with the pancakes, but ultimately made the lazy choice not to. I did have the epiphany that separating the eggs and beating the yolks with the sugar and spices, then adding the milk and finally folding in the beaten whites would produces some sort of alchemical velvety texture. Guys, this was not correct. Or maybe it could have been, had I been using a better ratio. Again, you forward thinkers may have already guessed that two egg yolks beaten with three tablespoons of sugar is not going to retain any of it's thickness when mixed with an entire cup of (pretty cold) milk. Additionally when I attempted to fold in the egg whites, they did not blend so thoroughly and ended up separating out again in the pan. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Mistake number two was custard ratio.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88cjGFfV9SLkY_5-7FUzkE8oByBeBwPPYeBfRar9hcsufdf958dShHJCq2xFyoKhB6qd1lO_jFUC6UZPNm5aw5XcTiKcXlko81DvwcXdNuaveTRnLscWo_npCAZTcUnsWQG5HDQ/s1600/ingred.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88cjGFfV9SLkY_5-7FUzkE8oByBeBwPPYeBfRar9hcsufdf958dShHJCq2xFyoKhB6qd1lO_jFUC6UZPNm5aw5XcTiKcXlko81DvwcXdNuaveTRnLscWo_npCAZTcUnsWQG5HDQ/s320/ingred.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582292261214476354" /></a><br /><br /><b>Seasoning</b><br />I love cardamom. It is, however, quite strong. I used one green cardamom pod in the pudding. I discarded the husk and crushed the seeds with the back of a spoon.* I added a bit of cinnamon and a dash of nutmeg. I mixed these spices with sugar so that the spice oils would bind to the crystals (this is the only advice I really took from the very comprehensive Food 52 pudding coverage). I had about a quarter cup of sugar in the spice bowl but only used two or three scant tablespoons. Mostly I was eyeballing to see that the sugar blended completely with the egg yolks. I did not remember to add vanilla extract, unfortunately. I think this would have rounded out the flavors a bit. The cardamom was pleasantly present in the finished product, but the flavor had an almost tonic quality. In my experience (with eating desserts) cardamom and vanilla show one another's best qualities: cardamom makes vanilla taste exotic and vanilla makes cardamom taste sweet. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Next time I won't forget the vanilla.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWym-c0tunoblsN7NxdN3mxEQq8f9VnKzfY4WxJkIBM4wjUcZ3Gwpelq43a7UdTYw3nqYvKlD6aB_bQ4ql2GOub5thNF5G3YWabwnLRXCuaJEhy3zgzdZKDh1ESLW6Jmj_y9S0Qw/s1600/raw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWym-c0tunoblsN7NxdN3mxEQq8f9VnKzfY4WxJkIBM4wjUcZ3Gwpelq43a7UdTYw3nqYvKlD6aB_bQ4ql2GOub5thNF5G3YWabwnLRXCuaJEhy3zgzdZKDh1ESLW6Jmj_y9S0Qw/s320/raw.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582292524225515682" /></a><br /><br /><b>Assembly and Cooking</b><br />I decided that 350 was the correct temperature at which to cook a bread pudding. I decided this not merely based upon the fact that is the default temperature for my oven, but also because it just felt right, you know? I cut all of my pancakes into strips that were about half an inch wide. I greased a small, ceramic casserole with butter and laid the strips along the bottom. I tore them to fit into a more or less even layer. Then I added the custard and pressed another layer of pancake scraps into the fluffy top (recall that the egg white separated out again). Then I sort of gobbed my "crust" on top. I really should have just left it off. It looked a lot like poop before and after baking. Some of the top layer of pancakes stuck out of the custard and created an alarming burning odor during the baking process. This led me to preemptively remove the pudding after less than 20 minutes. After I realized it was still very liquid-y I returned it to the oven until it was set in the middle. I imagine that it was about 35-40 minutes, but it's easy to tell it's done because there is no liquid when you push on the pancake pieces. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinRXT0y-_ScOYkTSAeQhTxRUBJR1wnDMSWRKCzmgZ7kH-BZZmJ_UZgf9pVQeBHH-Qup0D1C9E7aFFWw_D91NNcncjGRfTPr6j_nK2sk6-L2QsR6YUFCxp_mCHEXNTY7TeUA92ICg/s1600/done.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinRXT0y-_ScOYkTSAeQhTxRUBJR1wnDMSWRKCzmgZ7kH-BZZmJ_UZgf9pVQeBHH-Qup0D1C9E7aFFWw_D91NNcncjGRfTPr6j_nK2sk6-L2QsR6YUFCxp_mCHEXNTY7TeUA92ICg/s320/done.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582292752001363986" /></a><br /><br /><b>Reflection</b><br />Some time during the cooking process- maybe after the first bought of baking- I realized that this recipe could as easily be a variation on kugel** as a variation on bread pudding. I decided that in the second round I will try to incorporate more kugel-like methods. Mostly in the custard creation. I have been toying with the idea of substituting one half cup of the whole milk for sour cream (or, let's be honest, Greek yogurt). I don't think am ready for using a cheese product, though I think we can all agree that ricotta would be heavenly. I think that this would solve the issue I had of white and milk separating. Though I might also add another yolk or two (they are, after all, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/09/dining/09vegetarian.html?_r=1&ref=dining">the best part</a>). I could also have benefited from more liquid or less pancake. In addition to the above mentioned addition of vanilla, I have thought that a tiny scrape of citrus zest (orange?) to brighten up the spices. My line of thinking goes something like: "I would totally order any dessert that said it was orange, cardamom, vanilla flavored." It is important to remember that I am not a pastry chef. Maybe this would be taking on too much? Finally, though I think that my flavors are much more suited to almond than pecans, the texture of my crust was woefully wrong. I think in version 2.0 I'll try slivered almonds tossed with some of the sugar-spice mixture. They'll spread evenly over the surface and maybe even toast up while the pudding cooks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcItTm_HZ6hdqAX6b6_ngSQlXSgujRz-6p42lBRhUNvRWzwJyRldDeG-MIUvOYTwMFwN1g56UNfCQ12d00lKsGCCL23fTVjOhqTHMKn3VS9GHOCbKUItmJhYRk6dNOklQgLV517w/s1600/slice.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcItTm_HZ6hdqAX6b6_ngSQlXSgujRz-6p42lBRhUNvRWzwJyRldDeG-MIUvOYTwMFwN1g56UNfCQ12d00lKsGCCL23fTVjOhqTHMKn3VS9GHOCbKUItmJhYRk6dNOklQgLV517w/s320/slice.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582293322611614370" /></a><br /><br /><b>Verdict</b><br />I was surprised by how much I liked eating it. It was sort of intensely egg-y warm, but I drizzled on some maple syrup and it was actually pretty nice. I enjoyed a piece cold the next day as well. Generally it is chewy and formed, rather than soft and gushy. Which is stylistically valid, I suppose. I would like it to be a little softer and less formed in future incarnations though. I am particularly interested in any feedback any of you might have.<br /><br />Less successful than: Paula Deen's Best Bread Pudding<br /><br />More successful than: <a href="http://eatingpieelsewhere.tumblr.com/post/1411317476/leilacohanmiccio-i-have-no-idea-how-you-eat">Pudding and Yogurt cubes</a>.<br /><br />*Dear Santa: Please bring me a mortar and pestle. <br /><br />**It must be noted that everything I know about kugel I learned from my goy of a mother. She's a beautiful, inspirational cook, but I have no idea if her recipe is authentic.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-47987508225307790662011-03-04T00:03:00.007-03:002011-03-04T00:53:44.274-03:00Pantry PastaI was talking to my roommate the other day about how I manage to cook so often. He likes preparing food and likes the idea of cooking for himself, but seems to lack the follow through. While there are basic recipes and methods you can learn to make cooking easier, I realized over the course of our conversation that I really like the process of cooking. I like that it's methodical and creative (and delicious). I even- increasingly- like the process of organizing and cleaning up after myself. I often recline on the sofa after a meal and survey the sparkling kitchen* from my position of satiated repose. But assuming you have that drive to cook and merely lack the will to go to the grocery store (this winter has brought about four day stretches during which I don't leave my apartment), this is a good recipe building on scraps. <br /><br />The base of the dish was a bundle of chard stems I saved from Saturday. I had eaten braised chard stems before and it seemed they would cook down nicely to accompany pasta. I had a can of chickpeas, a shallot, some garlic and a bit of roasted red pepper (about half a pepper). As you remember (perhaps) I had lemon and parsley from a fish dish earlier in the week and I always have parmesean cheese on hand. I also always have wine around (a professional hazard) but broth or water would work fine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ewp5tPIcMdkHSbeVdxs3MOzoPWx5jQGXSaGOCZOsLPIv4bkm0h_sU-ozt2u4Lg-V878MT7jsr39RNAJYRhizo6xzhQ66ovPkulYnwXAEAI-3mbCpZ5QPE0yR6Jj-GmRw0NQ1Og/s1600/ingred1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ewp5tPIcMdkHSbeVdxs3MOzoPWx5jQGXSaGOCZOsLPIv4bkm0h_sU-ozt2u4Lg-V878MT7jsr39RNAJYRhizo6xzhQ66ovPkulYnwXAEAI-3mbCpZ5QPE0yR6Jj-GmRw0NQ1Og/s320/ingred1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580059868951260290" /></a><br /><br />I started out chopping everything up. I put on some water to boil and heated up a tablespoon or so of olive oil in a pan. I sauteed the shallot and garlic for a minute and then added the chard stems. After they were bright green on the edges I added the chickpeas and red pepper. I think that chopped canned tomatoes would have been even better in this and had a similar aesthetic affect, but I used what I had. <br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LW3FipoRkWmx8NgUFCB5uzA2Ikh8RlR8B0s6ROfgn2gw_KoJg5zGa6pONAo-piwBX0aVMrxPD6ffzTCO0pI89lqkDbu_mYm1IrnXYG5r-PswB8XhyphenhyphenouCEbE7kbd58zLkWKR6AQ/s1600/process.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LW3FipoRkWmx8NgUFCB5uzA2Ikh8RlR8B0s6ROfgn2gw_KoJg5zGa6pONAo-piwBX0aVMrxPD6ffzTCO0pI89lqkDbu_mYm1IrnXYG5r-PswB8XhyphenhyphenouCEbE7kbd58zLkWKR6AQ/s320/process.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580060800438592434" /></a><br /><br />I added salt and black and red pepper (I love my little red pepper mill!), about a quarter cup of white wine and a squeeze of tomato paste. Then I covered the pan and turned down the heat. While the stems were braising themselves into an edible softness, I grated lots of cheese and a bit of lemon zest. I also chopped up some parsley pretty fine. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuDhNfvzR1X8YmcrUbyWsy-MvvDH5nOjBX8HgmvT6xJf-d5pClxS-6qAl0TU9xCsCRZMYmrxwe2-jDjJsH2eLrZsR0d12FXDB6ncYsQD3JejuzMI0TYCMVk-InYlXRXTApI6B7rg/s1600/ingred2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuDhNfvzR1X8YmcrUbyWsy-MvvDH5nOjBX8HgmvT6xJf-d5pClxS-6qAl0TU9xCsCRZMYmrxwe2-jDjJsH2eLrZsR0d12FXDB6ncYsQD3JejuzMI0TYCMVk-InYlXRXTApI6B7rg/s320/ingred2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580063915686396418" /></a><br /><br />The trick at this point is to make sure that the veggies cook enough. Really, over cooking is not going to happen. The stems are very tough and have a sort of grassy bitterness to them. The chickpeas will also get softer and break apart a bit as cooking continues. I put (about 3/4 cup dried?) pasta into the salted water once the greens were pretty soft. When it was tender I drained it (saving a bit of the water) and put it right into the pan with the stems and chickpeas. Then I added the grated and chopped things and a bit of the pasta water and mixed it all together. That's all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4WSmHhgeoO8CxtdDkT4h8L8QRZOSQDfd4qGdHrF8-WqRDZL-xOzYWg13Dq-LGAcGB6lWdgR8y4txVV2gWledXfcrFCLCHAK9ou1l2VNSfCZ9d-OQRt7WP5r7WBKvep5djOWbYyg/s1600/product.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4WSmHhgeoO8CxtdDkT4h8L8QRZOSQDfd4qGdHrF8-WqRDZL-xOzYWg13Dq-LGAcGB6lWdgR8y4txVV2gWledXfcrFCLCHAK9ou1l2VNSfCZ9d-OQRt7WP5r7WBKvep5djOWbYyg/s320/product.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580064198193899330" /></a><br /><br />This dish made enough for two hungry people (or one hungry person who is happy not to have to make lunch plans for tomorrow). I grated more cheese on at the end, because it's technically a good idea when consuming that much fiber (whole wheat pasta, chickpeas and chard stems? try to contain your colon envy). I was very happy to have the brightness of the lemon zest and the freshness of the parsley to balance the richer braised flavor of the other vegetables. It took about an hour, start to finish, but there was nothing especially complicated. It's a balanced, satisfying (and vegetarian!) meal.<br /><br />*This is poetic license. I live with three other people. The kitchen is never that clean.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-37452207081132405462011-03-01T12:58:00.007-03:002011-03-01T15:41:43.386-03:00I thought I was your fish cake!**Assiduous devotes of my Internet presence will remember that I have a particular fondness for making fritters with leftover fish. Over the weekend S and I cooked some Shad (so delicious! I'd never tried it before). We just broiled it for a couple minutes with butter and lemon. The fish was super tasty, but I just wasn't jazzed about eating a plain fillet leftover. Somehow the texture of reheated fish just doesn't appeal. And so last night I put together this easy dinner of fish cakes and salad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Fish Cakes a la Rose</span><br /><br />This can be done with any leftover fish. I've used sea bass, imitation crab meat and even swordfish. The rice works well as a binding agent and, conveniently, it is often my starch of choice for a fish dinner. You can get crazy with adding veggies, but don't go too over the top or you will ruin your texture.<br /><br />Some leftover fish (we'll say 8 oz?)<br />Some leftover rice (we'll say 1/3 cup?)<br />3 Scallions (diced)<br />1 Clove garlic (a small one, minced)<br />Grated zest of half a lemon<br />2 tbs. chopped parsley <br />Bread crumbs*<br />An egg<br />Salt<br />Pepper<br />Olive oil suitable for frying<br /><br />-Flake the fish so it is in manageable chunks. If you're using something denser it might make sense to dice, but generally all cooked fish can be broken up with a fork.<br /><br />-Mix in the rice, scallions, garlic and lemon zest.<br /><br />-Adjust seasoning by tasting first, then adding salt and pepper (the fish is already seasoned, so you don't want to go overboard). <br /><br />-Mix in the egg. The mixture will be wet and uniform.<br /><br />-Form into balls of about 2 tbs. each. Flatten the balls into patties and drag each side through bread crumbs.<br /><br />-Chill formed patties in the fridge for about 30 mins. (this step can be skipped, but it does really help the fish cakes stay together in the pan).<br /><br />-Heat up some olive oil and fry the cakes. <br /><br />-Serve with salad and maybe hot sauce. I made a little dressing for the cakes with three parts low fat yogurt, one part Dijon mustard, one part mayonnaise and a sprinkle of cayenne pepper. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlFveFL9gJR6gqPQHTX7zLQcr2rtI5YBLZI8n-jN6LdHSyEs84gXebk2MUTKtWb93D4H3R6a65ThLkxNCZtwsxPJT2I6ukq9zdZjr2RBadAGjP6_Z9jvnx05smSd1Eg3w61OBZnQ/s1600/fishcakes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlFveFL9gJR6gqPQHTX7zLQcr2rtI5YBLZI8n-jN6LdHSyEs84gXebk2MUTKtWb93D4H3R6a65ThLkxNCZtwsxPJT2I6ukq9zdZjr2RBadAGjP6_Z9jvnx05smSd1Eg3w61OBZnQ/s320/fishcakes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579168541509331458" /></a><br /><br />The recipe made five fish cakes. Though I have to warn you, I measured absolutely nothing.<br /><br />*I hate setting up my food processor for small tasks, so I made the bread crumbs using the end of a loaf of sandwich bread and a box grater. It was pretty successful.<br /><br />**You are all so lucky I didn't call this post "Hanging Shad" or "Not Too Shaddy!" Additionally, I am the reigning queen of asterisks.<br /><br />***This would be very easy to do gluten free by dredging the cakes in a rice (or whatever) flour.<br /><br />****(Record postscript use!) Shad has tiny bones! Last night when I was flossing (maybe 4 hours after I finished dinner) I found a bone lodged between my teeth. So be careful!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-88654305250231524152011-02-28T22:02:00.011-03:002011-02-28T23:08:20.601-03:00Simple Valentine's Dinner*Well, at the risk of being annoyingly food blog-y and annoyingly relationship smug, this is the very simple Valentine's Day meal I prepared with my Special Person. The idea was that the most romantic thing to do on Valentine's Day is spend time together and since SP (oh God, that's really awful) works the very worst shift imaginable (9pm to 6am), our window of time together was somewhat small. Going to a restaurant was out since I am a high-strung, demanding patron on a normal day and Valentine's crowds and menus always breed incidents. We talked about the menu in advance and cooked together and it all just went very smoothly. It's really a great idea for a date night at any time of year.<br /><br />I began to prep a bit the night before. Dessert was a sort of special surprise. In accordance with our theme, it couldn't be fancy or too rich. Chocolate is the obvious V-Day flavor (though does anyone actually feel erotic stirrings from eating chocolate?). But it couldn't be over the top or S would fall asleep after we ate and miss work and generally ruin his life forever (which would be a terrible thing to inflict on a loved one on Valentine's Day). I saw <a href="http://simmerboston.com/2011/02/chocolate-sables/">this recipe</a> and decided that it would be easy enough to be-Valentine it by forming the dough into a heart shaped log before cutting the cookies. It seemed a bit rough at first, but the cookies looked great in the end.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6EIL4TsGabNvd0bCle6FbGXL4jVQzuniJI0FeAWE5eCT57ZeyoEG41c1udGUzo0HwWKHNQIuOvJRjJ-4ryS-mRdEW6w-bte0cn_9yitNm0Au3Kfb1piahi64ILnH3HlzsCg7tQ/s1600/cookiesheet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6EIL4TsGabNvd0bCle6FbGXL4jVQzuniJI0FeAWE5eCT57ZeyoEG41c1udGUzo0HwWKHNQIuOvJRjJ-4ryS-mRdEW6w-bte0cn_9yitNm0Au3Kfb1piahi64ILnH3HlzsCg7tQ/s320/cookiesheet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578915043183308386" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Cookies on the sheet.</span><br /><br />They were sort of dry tasting (a bit overcooked- whoops!), so I melted a very small amount of bittersweet chocolate and smeared it across the top of each one. In the end this was delicious, but terribly rich.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGMVFDt-zZfS17f0pqVKvOUfUD-EldSuCRWpP_xsh0uAmN2yN08zw65lfTLWXncbN7XnG3I9Cwvx6exDKPX3u0aK813moqPvMw055kXTdGJq-g0Z_UzXCGB4636SYJC98UU_ZXg/s1600/cookiesun.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGMVFDt-zZfS17f0pqVKvOUfUD-EldSuCRWpP_xsh0uAmN2yN08zw65lfTLWXncbN7XnG3I9Cwvx6exDKPX3u0aK813moqPvMw055kXTdGJq-g0Z_UzXCGB4636SYJC98UU_ZXg/s320/cookiesun.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578915574400317122" /></a><br /><br />During the day I had to work a bit, but I put together a short playlist of songs for our meal. I also got some mustard and ice cream that S particularly likes. I share my apartment with three other people, so it's not exactly the most romantic mise en scene but I spruced it up a bit and even managed to figure out candles and cloth napkins. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi12BWvsMsh1MoNv45MQpV6mQbdOtqqHkC5jdmoIHzY6PdSg89eruA7ZQwcKFx4f_4PTrvl3Amnwvkm1KEiVNrpNLpQrPWqKOKaM2eCHwd1JBt7IGidgpA24y0rTJklglswwfBjyQ/s1600/tableset.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi12BWvsMsh1MoNv45MQpV6mQbdOtqqHkC5jdmoIHzY6PdSg89eruA7ZQwcKFx4f_4PTrvl3Amnwvkm1KEiVNrpNLpQrPWqKOKaM2eCHwd1JBt7IGidgpA24y0rTJklglswwfBjyQ/s320/tableset.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578921190478463826" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I am aware the the pet names written on our glasses only increase the appearance of smugness. Sorry.</span><br /><br />S came over in the afternoon and since it was a gloriously warm day we went for a walk to get the chicken and some bread. Our destination was one of those fancy Brooklyn food stores and we impulse bought two kinds of cheese (sign number two that this was not going to be the lightest meal imaginable). The main event of the evening was a simple roast chicken. One of my roommates had alerted me to this <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/My-Favorite-Simple-Roast-Chicken-231348">very extraordinary recipe</a> a few weeks earlier.** It was divine. And shockingly easy. I decided to risk one very small substitution and switched the thyme for tarragon, (because tarragon is really the sexiest herb, right?) but we basically just salted the bird and stuck her in the oven for an hour.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ppPq5VD1EkU_S3XyTHUF19dAYWwhzXrfjnC5BOJ71dvjx8mLX-VbpwaitR4gvgWc80kC27FOm9oG0e2lEOn7G-eSX_85vaEeAWxjhmsWPbsGgl3v8oACM1DL2BJirrtk1YNWNw/s1600/cheeseboard.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ppPq5VD1EkU_S3XyTHUF19dAYWwhzXrfjnC5BOJ71dvjx8mLX-VbpwaitR4gvgWc80kC27FOm9oG0e2lEOn7G-eSX_85vaEeAWxjhmsWPbsGgl3v8oACM1DL2BJirrtk1YNWNw/s320/cheeseboard.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578918958314251346" /></a><br /><br />While our chicken crackled away we broke off pieces of french bread an spread them with our cheeses- a sort of domestic camembert and a very spicy blue. As the sultry scent of crisping skin filled the air, we danced around the kitchen. Sigh. It was really just so much nicer than any Valentine's day has been before. And then we got to eat!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-QgAJM09yHFtahcqG5FGsXpnFfULjeQNi462yfRAdRAvuTCXOI1t1pVpv6Kj7neRja_ulKOyQNMaIpOr0vPwXKf9LkiRmBtKcbOskEw9AW_J4xUEKmDU7atnTZAYoNjxcz5Sizw/s1600/chixwhole.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-QgAJM09yHFtahcqG5FGsXpnFfULjeQNi462yfRAdRAvuTCXOI1t1pVpv6Kj7neRja_ulKOyQNMaIpOr0vPwXKf9LkiRmBtKcbOskEw9AW_J4xUEKmDU7atnTZAYoNjxcz5Sizw/s320/chixwhole.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578922538164214722" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">She was so beautiful. I swell up with pride just looking at her.</span><br /><br />We decided that side dishes were unnecessary and just had some simple greens to satisfy my manic need for vegetables. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWh8t2914zouMrQj42_P-NNjUI18Nvrn7Wv4MqQRHrGfWIM_pp5mWiDWMXkVjEI_hN3S6gUoM4OkcjWsnW0-pFWGurzIURo33UmQX7U1BtcgVubbT_A1aa6IrfE0rV-Ho1nImzfg/s1600/plate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWh8t2914zouMrQj42_P-NNjUI18Nvrn7Wv4MqQRHrGfWIM_pp5mWiDWMXkVjEI_hN3S6gUoM4OkcjWsnW0-pFWGurzIURo33UmQX7U1BtcgVubbT_A1aa6IrfE0rV-Ho1nImzfg/s320/plate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578922919956689906" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I wouldn't say it's a flaw exactly, but it is sort of sad that S and I both like the legs best. I was eyeing the other one for lunch the next day.</span><br /><br />As you might have guessed, bread and cheese followed by delicious, salt-covered chicken left us feeling pretty full. But we managed to squeeze in dessert.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vPPI3rooFxqcuO54Xi0OqtVWDz7tEAGBgTeNiGBGgXEn_fIrmghBn2IwCgmSYQiNXLo7EBVwCd4aBuTGe9ZBKOFgHbodYBgQw_WpR2y1yIpcNrxYEVoOFQVgLqXlcNUJm2YURQ/s1600/dessert.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vPPI3rooFxqcuO54Xi0OqtVWDz7tEAGBgTeNiGBGgXEn_fIrmghBn2IwCgmSYQiNXLo7EBVwCd4aBuTGe9ZBKOFgHbodYBgQw_WpR2y1yIpcNrxYEVoOFQVgLqXlcNUJm2YURQ/s320/dessert.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578923945911345074" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Strawberry ice cream from Van Leeuwen.</span><br /><br />We had seltzer water and a bottle the Goose Island Madame Rose (pretty great name!) rather than wine. This was mostly because S couldn't have much wine before working, although the pairing ended up being quite nice. The beer could use a bit more time in the bottle, but it has a really pleasing sourness in the finish. Apparently it is cask aged with sour cherries. <br /><br />And that's all! I mean, it took a long time to explain, but basically this meal requires about 20 minutes of active time, tastes great and feels special. And if we hadn't bought the cheese the whole thing would have cost about $20 (Brooklyn ice cream is pricey!). <br /><br />*So I'm gonna write about food here more lately, I think. Not because anyone reads it. And certainly not because the Internet needs another person writing about what they cook (in their Brooklyn apartment- oh gag!). But because it gives me the sense that I am doing something. <br /><br />**Guys, can I just take a moment to express that, based solely on this recipe, Thomas Keller deserves every bit of praise people give him?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-45191425019961098012010-04-12T15:57:00.001-04:002010-04-12T16:03:03.957-04:00Machu PicchuSo this is a quick, single media note. I am in Aguas Calientes, Peru. I am still having a fight with my camera (not only is the focus off, the battery is totally wonky... did you get a warantee, Dad?). I did however manage to get a few really lovely snaps. And my friend, Daniela, who I met on Friday got some awesome ones. We walked up to Wayapicchu, which is the sacred mountain overlooking the city. It was about forty straight minutes of steep staircases in high altitude. So I'm exhausted. Fortunately, this town is called Aguas Calientes because there are natural springs here. So we're about to go sit in some geo-thermic tubs for the rest of the day. I am feeling really good right now. Still a bit preoccupied with logistics. But generally I have the feeling that everything is about to become really clear.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-66311091715464321762010-04-08T21:46:00.004-04:002010-04-11T00:41:40.718-04:00Onward, but mostly upward.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOt6ST3FnorrPcoyEIetQBaGx7HMQ0g0-yQIZITqGwrWNYPo34iztBZZZ69_BS7QiYPDLQnjgJfKPRU1zAMdoT7QI0DRi3z1tskuUsXC20mi00EKsVEtWBSYUrYMQOLFrsLnvsw/s1600/RoseTemp+008.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOt6ST3FnorrPcoyEIetQBaGx7HMQ0g0-yQIZITqGwrWNYPo34iztBZZZ69_BS7QiYPDLQnjgJfKPRU1zAMdoT7QI0DRi3z1tskuUsXC20mi00EKsVEtWBSYUrYMQOLFrsLnvsw/s320/RoseTemp+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457965371395953682" /></a><br />So today I arrived in Arica, my first stop on what is going to be a fairly whirlwind tour of Peru, Bolivia and Argentina. I basically didn't sleep last night because my flight left so early (but thanks again for the ride, Israel!) so my impressions of the city are pretty hazy. I basically fell asleep on the beach and then walked back to my hostel. Fittingly (and extremely annoyingly) the autofocus on my camera seems to be wonky. So while it's technically a malfunction, you should think of this photo as an expressive manifestation of my mental state. <br /><br />Arica is basically built around this giant, sandstone hill. It sort of just looms out of nowhere and the city hugs the flats around it. It's pretty dramatic looking. To accentuate things there is a giant statue of Jesus on top with outstretched arms. It's hard to know who started the trend of putting giant religious statues on hills overlooking cities, but it's probably time to stop. I mean it's getting a bit hackneyed if you ask me.<br /><br />I had a very informative conversation with the owner of the hostel and an amateur anthropologist about how I should proceed with my trip. It seems I will have to be pretty choosy about Bolivia. They have also really put the fear of god into me regarding altitude sickness. Because of my time constraints I can't make the recommended stop in Arequipa before going to Cusco. I will therefore be dealing with a fairly sudden altitude change of more than 4,000 meters*. So basically I could be completely incapacitated for my first days in Cusco. Which could potentially ruin my plans involving the salt flats of Uyuni. If I can't make it to the salt flats my back up plan is to spend an entire day swimming in the center of Lake Titicaca. Because I think it would be cool to be able to say I swam across an international border. I will also probably need the exercise after all the hours I'll have spent on buses.<br /><br />*Originally I wrote this as kilometers. Which would put me very close to the moon, I suppose. Let this be a testament to my exhaustion. And embarrassing lack of comprehension of the metric system.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-61578574607061938672010-04-07T22:24:00.006-04:002010-04-07T22:55:18.162-04:00Arica or bust.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPaUwsD2qebAc6qAJm_U7CC2uqA_qI4jfOszZYWUELpKTKL0czAYMgajLAdlhAPom25AkZ_It1FGUUfKgC_27GB8nQS3vccUXXpTFTGLKmjNRLoyXeifC00Y3bzBVPGo4ZxF13w/s1600/bags.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 193px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPaUwsD2qebAc6qAJm_U7CC2uqA_qI4jfOszZYWUELpKTKL0czAYMgajLAdlhAPom25AkZ_It1FGUUfKgC_27GB8nQS3vccUXXpTFTGLKmjNRLoyXeifC00Y3bzBVPGo4ZxF13w/s200/bags.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457594545210129586" /></a><br />I will be getting on a bus in seven hours to take me to the Santiago Airport (it will be my seventh time there in 2010!). The plane will take me to Arica, a port city at the northern extreme of the country which was part of Peru until the War of the Pacific. Arica is known as the city of endless spring and I plan to spend the afternoon on the beach, getting into the vacation mode. Not that things have been particularly stressful or busy or non-vacation-like here in Santiago lately. But the weather has been pretty autumnal in the last week, so it will be nice to be back in the warmth. I am considering naming the volume of my memoirs that covers this year and a half period,<span style="font-style:italic;"> Actually 500 Days of Summer</span>. <br /><br />After Arica I will take 18 hours of buses to Cuzco. People say it's a beautiful town and it's the jumping off point for Machu Pichu treks. I will probably be taking the faster, cheaper train option rather than the famed Inca Trail, but I'll consider the options once I'm there. After that I have 1675.33 miles to travel before the 19th when I meet my sister in Buenos Aires. I hoping to see as much of Bolivia as possible. The country's transportation is notoriously bad, so I'm sure that it will be extremely frustrating and uncomfortable at times. Which is great for you guys because frustration and discomfort mixed with loneliness is the recipe for great blogs! I jest, I jest. <br /><br />I am honestly a bit nervous about being on my own for so long. At the same time, it's really exciting. The experience of living in Chile has been a pretty solitary one. Starting out not knowing many people and speaking almost no Spanish was a pretty significant hurdle to forming meaningful relationships. And while I still feel like I have a ways to go in that regard, my social life has definitely filled out over the last several months. There are many people I'll be sorry to leave. I am hoping to meet many more fellow travelers on the road. <br /><br />I expect to be extremely glad for my sister's company by the final leg of the trip in Buenos Aires and Mendoza. Originally we were hoping she could come for longer, but the logistics are tough and it was all quite last minute. I am leaving my computer by taking two real books, an audiobook and a very empty journal to pass the time. I'll be in touch soon!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-79132681431518338902010-03-31T22:04:00.003-03:002010-03-31T22:21:59.126-03:00HomecomingSo it's been five months. And although I have some reservations about it, I have decided to come back to the US at the end of April. Right now my plan is to spend the next four weeks doing as much traveling as possible. I am hoping to see some of Argentina and Bolivia. I guess I got pretty discouraged with the job search. I realized that I really wasn't excited to be doing any of the jobs for which I might be qualified. I also began to see my return (originally scheduled for June) on the horizon. I knew that once I returned I would have to search for work once again. The three months for which I was seeking employment began to seem like a stop-gap. I am getting really excited for my trip. I am going to do very little planning and hope that my staying open lots of exciting possibilities will present themselves. And subsequently, of course, I will present them to you here.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-4280381977993266212010-02-27T14:00:00.008-03:002010-02-27T14:08:23.445-03:00AftershockSo my mom and I are safe and together. My cousin Dana is also safe and on the other side of Santiago. We'll try to meet up with her later today. The earthquake was incredibly scary. Many of the buildings in my neighborhood are very old and suffered some serious damages. My mom is staying in a hostel where a wall collapsed and quite a bit of debris fell from the ceiling. Right now we're not sure when she will be able to fly out. I'll keep everyone updated and write more about the situation here soon. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2Vkx3yxFZVfdN_Ed_wNu3hOgypSteky4DhlNrnq9yDtisZ3zwgpgqNlkmX3wKRwgZNwRxeZvr6pbkqNrOSJvkNYv814d9706rTH3Y_Eq51R3IpjV80TdblW9GWXR_BAXvDEIEQ/s1600-h/iglesia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2Vkx3yxFZVfdN_Ed_wNu3hOgypSteky4DhlNrnq9yDtisZ3zwgpgqNlkmX3wKRwgZNwRxeZvr6pbkqNrOSJvkNYv814d9706rTH3Y_Eq51R3IpjV80TdblW9GWXR_BAXvDEIEQ/s320/iglesia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442970006173226050" /></a><br /><br />The church across the street from my building.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKBrnNUkMebAwI1RUmMpYTLVlth7lWrBA0wytJIxx-knnYylrAgJeLvx5ru4PLb7H_iX1oOl0y6bsetb1abdfrQC06YDzQz_j5bE15848ouHMPI4tqXkThfB6FZb75UjhwvZiDg/s1600-h/callemoto.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKBrnNUkMebAwI1RUmMpYTLVlth7lWrBA0wytJIxx-knnYylrAgJeLvx5ru4PLb7H_iX1oOl0y6bsetb1abdfrQC06YDzQz_j5bE15848ouHMPI4tqXkThfB6FZb75UjhwvZiDg/s320/callemoto.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442970247528045794" /></a><br /><br />My street blocked off at both ends by rubble.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXouHQT_N5BGZkCp7Yg8x5d6l6yafTBReJ3Q7glKugZnKC1xDNjrtNwwImBqtMixoNB7YYAVSYe3Uc0wCJpQNbig5kClcnUASpd37Cuteoej3GF4HbkdBqT2LoAGMA5C-N1qJleg/s1600-h/mesita.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXouHQT_N5BGZkCp7Yg8x5d6l6yafTBReJ3Q7glKugZnKC1xDNjrtNwwImBqtMixoNB7YYAVSYe3Uc0wCJpQNbig5kClcnUASpd37Cuteoej3GF4HbkdBqT2LoAGMA5C-N1qJleg/s320/mesita.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442970434886039490" /></a><br /><br />The apartment is covered in dust from the street.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0ae9thhoPepJf26eltZetN9Vck5wCRxoO8BwHDKruAnPX35BL21qv4iVHg06OvW8MIJw1Cm-mKXJPtoYCjbOiFlHV00HXfyElntrz7qXIJZyZlTCsoWtAlPNYuOYgZ1X0QIfDA/s1600-h/bano.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0ae9thhoPepJf26eltZetN9Vck5wCRxoO8BwHDKruAnPX35BL21qv4iVHg06OvW8MIJw1Cm-mKXJPtoYCjbOiFlHV00HXfyElntrz7qXIJZyZlTCsoWtAlPNYuOYgZ1X0QIfDA/s320/bano.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442970664634887762" /></a><br /><br />Only minor damage in our building.<br /><br />Thanks for all of the wishes. We're feeling very shocked and very relieved to be safe and together.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-15447068463517733072010-02-27T01:35:00.001-03:002010-02-27T01:36:19.119-03:00Definitive Judgements: Chilean TelevisionEvery year, for about a week in February, Chile becomes obsessed with this music festival in Viña del Mar. Everyone talks about it. It's on every television screen, every night. Proportionally, it's probably equal to the combined popularity of the Olympics and American Idol in the US (interestingly the Olympics are on and no one seems to care/watch). And from what I've seen (at least one act the last four nights) it's terrible. Allowing for the fact that I didn't grow up with these singers, the majority are just not very good at singing. And don't even get me started on the comedy acts. They may as well be speaking Lao. And yet, everyone watches like it's the most exciting television event of the year. Here's indicative conversation of how very strange this phenomenon is for me:<br /><br />Me: Did he just say "like a penguin in the bed?"<br /><br />My Roommate: Yes. (Like it was obvious, like everyone has known that lyric all their lives, like lovers and penguins have clear similarities.)<br /><br />Unfortunately it is not just the music festival of Viña. All of Chilean television is more or less an enigma. We changed the channel after the festival programingand the current show is a bizarre hybrid of Jeopardy and strip poker.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-37078369929614559712010-02-11T19:17:00.003-03:002010-02-11T19:54:52.136-03:00Mom DirtSo my job has come and gone and I am living in Santiago. I know, that's a really lame update, but it is the truth. As with many of the jobs I have had in my life, my first employment experience in Chile taught me several valuable things about what I <span style="font-style:italic;">don't</span> want to do for work. For example, I don't want to work in other people's homes. I don't want to work with nine year old children. I don't want a job with complete personal freedom. (As in: "Here are the books. Teach.") At a certain point I realized that the dread of going to work dominated my mood even when I wasn't working. And that is not why I came to Chile. But it was a valuable experience. And it motivated me to move to Santiago, which I am really enjoying.<br /><br />Generally things feel like they're going really well. I get along great with my new roommates. In fact my roommate luck in Chile thus far has been exceptionally good. I have even stayed in touch with some of the people I decided <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> to live with in Santiago and I'm going to a barbecue at one of their houses tonight. I had a really encouraging job interview this morning with a company that wants to put me through a whole week of training and help me straighten out my visa. And my parents are coming this weekend.<br /><br />Which brings us to this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQPk8QQNgENSn_tBl_LwrrYfMe4B1ILer3qC__s4sbZ1m38l57veGRgLlNJ50d8o-6ZS7t12Jii8M79eHjgsiu5hmMr1ohf2cZiXVUUW1BYMtUYECyQqSaX6hcFZTaht51s22mw/s1600-h/Photo+156.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQPk8QQNgENSn_tBl_LwrrYfMe4B1ILer3qC__s4sbZ1m38l57veGRgLlNJ50d8o-6ZS7t12Jii8M79eHjgsiu5hmMr1ohf2cZiXVUUW1BYMtUYECyQqSaX6hcFZTaht51s22mw/s320/Photo+156.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437113667187359122" /></a><br /><br />Although my new apartment is comfortable and my room has lots of light and a private bathroom, it is an old building. This provides for even more exciting plumbing arrangements (think an inch of water on the floor first thing in the morning my first week here...) Additionally, there is some very old stubborn dirt around. Generally things are quite clean, but certain corners are a bit scary. And one of those corners is my shower. To give you an idea, I thought the shower was clean after the cursory bleach-based cleaner and sponge treatment I gave it before moving in. But yesterday while showering, I absentmindedly nudged the dark grout between the wall tiles with my finger. And it moved in one large brown chunk. This dirt is so hard, so thorough, that I thought someone had regrouted the shower using another color cement. <br /><br />My parents aren't staying in my apartment (available accommodations here include sharing my twin bed and my yoga mat on the floor) but my mom and I are going to be traveling a bit (Patagonia!) after my dad leaves and it seems possible that she might need to use my shower at some point. While I can blissfully ignore gunky-grout, I have far too much pride to allow my mother to witness such filth. So after kicking off my interview-best, I spent the afternoon scrubbing the walls of my shower. As I write this my right arm aches from the exertion. It is certainly improved, but not perfect. I'll give it a bit more elbow grease tomorrow. <br /><br />You can all look forward to non-computer photos, since my parents are bringing me a real camera to replace my stolen one. You can also look forward to the tale of my capturing and domesticating a penguin family (but really they'll domesticate me, teaching me to fall down with grace and the value of mating for life). And- I swear- more frequent posts.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-9891437297834073462010-01-16T12:32:00.002-03:002010-01-16T14:04:05.550-03:00Welcome to the Working WeekSo it's been a bit of time since I wrote, but fortunately that's because I have a new job! That's right, after three months without working, I am finally back at it. Although my new position is basically the opposite of serving food and wine at Aroma. I responded to a job ad on Craig's List a couple of days after New Year's and about two hours later someone called to see if I could start the next week. It seems I am the only person in Chile using Craig's List. So far both of the inquiries I've made (my apartment and now my job) worked out pretty much immediately.<br /><br />So the thing about this job is that it is in Santiago. And yes, that is a completely different city. But I felt like I was getting nowhere in Valparaiso and part of me has been longing for a bit more city life. Valpo is lovely, but in a city of 500,000 you tend to see the same faces and go to the same places every day. So for the last week I have been commuting two and a half hours each way to work about three hours a day. It's totally ridiculous and totally exhausting.<br /><br />The job is "curriculum manager" for a tutoring company based in the Las Condes neighborhood of Santiago. So it's teaching, or more precisely tutoring. The company currently works exclusively with clients of Korean descent. So it's definitely a niche market. Right now there is no office, so I am making house calls. Like I said, it is completely different. I don't know if I like the job yet. It has certainly given my days some much needed structure. But I am often gone for ten or twelve hours at a time. And so, I have decided to move to Santiago.<br /><br />The idea of moving again makes me vaguely nauseous. Even though I don't have too much stuff here, the process of finding a new place and getting to know new roommates seems particularly exhausting. So if any of you out there on the Internet have some great tips on affordable shared apartments in Santiago (preferably on or near the Linea 1 metro) please share!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-39290056834027896802010-01-05T17:59:00.004-03:002010-01-05T19:17:51.307-03:00Resolutions: DancingI do not usually find myself making broad generalizations about Latin culture. I find Chilean culture with its particular eccentricities generally more notable, interesting and, at times, infuriating. However, I am prepared to say that Latin culture on the whole is much more enthusiastic about dancing than my own (that is, Irish-American from the northeast United States). While "going out" and "partying" in New York often involved some bopping around to music, here dancing is the goal, the focus of many evenings. And I'm not talking about goofy gyrations to Mary J. Blige or interpretive arm flailings to Tina Turner. This is the kind of dancing that requires a partner. And everyone seems to be able to do it but me.<br /><br />I'm not going to outright blame my parents for this. They read this blog, for one thing. And for another, it is simply not within our cultural norm to rear children to know the difference between salsa, merengue and cumbia. That said, I have vowed to myself several times on the dance floors of Valparaiso that my children will not suffer the same fate. How do I get my hips to do that? And where exactly do I put my weight? How can one even begin at the ripe age of twenty-six to learn the whole system of dancing?<br /><br />On New Year's Day I found myself once again surrounded by people eager to dance. And despite my pleas of being tired (I had only slept between the hours of 9am and 1:30pm) and hungover (I drank rum!), I was peer pressured into participating. Though I suspect that after seeing me dance, they would have let me stay home had there been more girls for partners. And although I think my dancing might have suffered a bit due to the extreme inebriation of my partner, the whole experience was enough to sign me up for a salsa lesson on the spot. Not that there are salsa lessons at this bar. Or even, anywhere else in the city as far as I know. But I couldn't help but look around and notice all the places other people's bodies were moving that mine wasn't. <br /><br />This scenario has become such a source of distress and discomfort in my life that I have vowed that 2010 will be the year of the dance. That is, the year I learn to dance. No more to hover in the corner! No more to claim fatigue! Ask for me in December and they'll just shrug and gesture towards the dance floor. And there you'll see me shaking all the right parts at all the right times and twirling like a dervish. It is resolved.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-62222583342796465942009-12-31T15:27:00.009-03:002009-12-31T17:45:48.543-03:00Salt in Your Pocket<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Rr4dBfr5822fAR-QhKUVgylnH6Nc5H_zlj1qII-L6zum82Ny0Jv6X1kSD9AhA8KWsRBaj3j0py0_cVkowYHTzJgWMNbi66H5y0AHX4-vmPNVHu0-19RWxobwPkb9CSaHiWJ2Jg/s1600-h/Photo+105.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Rr4dBfr5822fAR-QhKUVgylnH6Nc5H_zlj1qII-L6zum82Ny0Jv6X1kSD9AhA8KWsRBaj3j0py0_cVkowYHTzJgWMNbi66H5y0AHX4-vmPNVHu0-19RWxobwPkb9CSaHiWJ2Jg/s200/Photo+105.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421504034000808354" /></a><br />Año Nuevo is huge here. Right now the number of people in the city is in the process of doubling, creating traffic scenes that look daunting even to a native Bostonian. They say that the fireworks display at midnight (or apparently somewhere around then, Chileans aren't so bothered by punctuality) is one of the biggest and most impressive in the world. Although I can stay out pretty late by New York standards (I'm no stranger to six am), the party here apparently goes until eight or nine. When Maca and Caro told me this I nearly moved to show them the gray hair I found this summer. I feel old and tired just thinking about it.<br /><br />In addition to fireworks and dancing and drinking on the crowded streets, the celebration of New Years here involves lots of traditions. As Nike pointed out it seems to be the opposite of what we're used to, Christmas is no big deal and New Year's has lots of significance. All of the traditions have to do with luck in the New Year. They range from familiar to deeply strange.<br /><br /><b>Yellow Underpants</b> No one has mentioned why exactly, but it appears to be very important to wear yellow underpants on New Years. The street vendors have had stacks of them laid out on blankets all week. Judging by the styles I saw for sale, it seems that the tradition applies mostly to women. Although perhaps gents also don lacy thongs to celebrate. <br /><br /><b>Eat Lentils</b> You're supposed to eat lentils without salt before midnight. Apparently this will bring wealth in the New Year. Conveniently lentils are one the foods I can afford, so it couldn't hurt to try... Do you think cooking them with sausage would be cheating?<br /><br /><b>Walk Around the Block With a Suitcase</b> This is supposed to make all your travel dreams come true. It seems like it could be sort of goofy looking. <br /><br /><b>Eat Twelve Grapes</b> Apparently this tradition originated in Spain. No one seems to be sure why, but it might have started with a royal proclamation intended to help the grape industry. Sounds a bit hard to believe, but ultimately pretty simple.<br /><br /><b>Put Salt in Your Pocket</b> In your left, front pocket to be exact. I didn't quite understand why. But no other pocket will do.<br /><br /><b>Hug Someone of the Opposite Sex at Midnight</b> This seems similar to kissing someone you want to be with for the rest of the year at midnight. It doesn't seem to have the same romantic connotations. For example, I am hoping to hug a six month old baby at midnight. I really like babies.<br /><br />So I'll be sure to let you know how it goes. I'm going to nap now. It looks like I have a long night ahead of me. Happy New Year, everyone!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-52880487638092146872009-12-30T15:43:00.002-03:002009-12-30T15:45:25.901-03:00Emergency Update!Another mailman just came to my building (without the package)! It wasn't Soto, the guy I met this morning! Have I been lead astray? Was this all an elaborate hoax to steal the hooded sweatshirt and tampons my mother sent me?? Does anyone know anything about the Chilean mail system?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-22111207429440805462009-12-30T10:51:00.004-03:002009-12-30T12:14:27.515-03:00Complaints: International Mail InfrastructureYesterday Nike and I went to inquire after packages we had been expecting for some time. My mother told me the USPS records show a delivery attempt was made on the 23rd. The gentleman working told us there was absolutely nothing he could do and that only a postman could answer delivery questions. It seems like the postman is individually responsible for all mail items. It makes me wonder what qualifies someone for such tremendous responsibilities. People send really important things in the mail. Like contracts and birth certificates and tax returns and bridesmaid dresses (I'm working on it Leila!). My postman is available for inquires between 8 and 10 am.<br /><br />So this morning I woke up bright and early to see him. I went with the tracking number for the package and the information listed on the USPS website. According to them, two attempts were made, at 2:50pm and 11:16pm. The idea that someone in any country would deliver mail so late at night is suspect. But everyone at the post office assured me it was absolutely impossible in Chile. There must be some mistake. Furthermore, there is no record of a package with that tracking number ever arriving in the Chilean mail system. A gentleman carefully explained that as soon as customs clears a package it is scanned into the system. So if they had it, the computer would show it. He very kindly told me that anything so important to me was important to them too. And then he gave me his phone number, you know, in case I had any questions. Or whatever.<br /><br />So I went home feeling reassured that at least thieves and villains weren't absconding with my mail. And then I dialed the customer service number for the USPS. After ten minutes of muzak (which is not improved by the poor sound quality of Skype, btw) I finally got through to a person. She proceeded to read me the information from the website. When I asked if they might have used another service, she said it is the US Postal Service policy to use local post offices. Her computer said the delivery attempts were made and so the package must be here. Nothing more to be done.<br /><br />I'm sure that computerizing systems has made mail delivery exceptionally more reliable, fast and inexpensive. But I do feel that this experience highlights a shortcoming of automated services. The computer is always right. Even if there are two computer systems and they don't say the same thing. Obviously one computer is wrong. But policy does not allow for such a possibility. And all I can do is sit in South America and wait. But when it comes, I'm totally going to bake my mailman a cake. And I'll tell him not to share it with the lady at USPS.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-20460631123796057952009-12-24T13:24:00.002-03:002009-12-24T13:48:52.681-03:00Things I Don't Understand About Christmas in Chile1) <span style="font-weight:bold;">The weather</span>- Ok. I understand this intellectually. That the earth is on an axis that moves and sometimes the bottom of the planet is closer to the sun and the top is farther away. But today is December 24. I woke up this morning and put on jeans, a t-shirt and sunscreen. And the strangest thing is that they don't even try to adapt it. There are machines that blow fake snow in the department stores. If you get this message in time, please send snow and mistletoe.<br /><br />2) <span style="font-weight:bold;">Pascua</span>- According to sources as varied as my high school Spanish text book and Wikipedia, Pascua means Easter. But apparently it also means Christmas. Santa Claus is Viejo Pascuero. I've asked lots of people how and why they came to call Christmas Easter, and I've never received a satisfying response. It just is. Nothing about the etymology of the word or the history of the celebration seems to justify using Pascua to refer to the birth of Christ. If someone could shed some light on this mystery I'd be much obliged. <br /><br />3)<span style="font-weight:bold;">Bagpipes</span>- Maybe it's a strange coincidence but some guy around the corner has been playing "Amazing Grace" on a bagpipe the whole damn day. I don't know what holiday that is appropriate for (Veteran's Day?) but it's certainly not Christmas. Quit it, dude. You're only making things more confusing. <br /><br />Anyway, I hope you all have very merry christmases or at least happy days today and tomorrow. And that you're warm and with people you love. I'm going to go make ceviche and a peach tart. One nice thing is that I don't have to eat ham.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-52524639522193605512009-12-15T16:27:00.002-03:002009-12-15T16:45:27.590-03:00Disturbing Trends: Juvenile Public UrinationCultural differences are always hard to understand. That's what makes them interesting. That's also sort of what makes this blog interesting. But I feel like there is a universal expectation of parents that they are instilling positive habits in their children. Toothbrushing. Vegetable consumption. Respect for the law and basic public hygiene. But sometimes that just doesn't seem to be the case. No fewer than four times now I have seen mothers helping their young children pee against walls. None of the children were more than six years old. Everyone can understand that bladder control is newer and more difficult at that age. But urinating against the wall of a business hardly seems like a responsible solution. I witnessed these events not in tucked-away alleys or side-streets, but in plazas, pedestrian malls and major thoroughfares. Just today I saw the most recent example at 2:30 in the afternoon in the middle of the financial district of the city. No one expects these children to have perfect control of their bladders, but really? Public urination is illegal is not just because of puritanical expectations of modesty. It just isn't hygienic to have human waste on the sidewalks. I am hoping I have just noticed a large number of aberrations. That this isn't a commonly accepted phenomenon. Though if it is perhaps it explains the drunk man who continued to cat-call at me while urinating on the building next door to mine last week.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-14056421175568944902009-12-11T12:44:00.004-03:002009-12-11T14:05:48.282-03:00Chilean Election PrimerSo this Sunday is election day in Chile. Officials at all levels of government from municipal to federal will be selected. Of course, the presidential contest is the most closely watched of these races. This round of voting has four major front runners. If no one wins a majority there will be a run-off between the two candidates with the highest percentages. Most people seem to expect a run-off. This election is particularly interesting because for the first time since the military dictatorship ended in 1990, a candidate from the right is likely to win. The incumbent, Michelle Bachelet, is pretty popular right now but has decided not to seek another term. Neither of the candidates from her party have been able to parlay her popularity into real momentum. In ascending order of polling numbers the four major candidates are:<br /><br /><b>Arrate</b>: Jorge Arrate is the candidate for the communist party. He held a position (economic adviser of some sort) in the government of Salvador Allende. He seems to have the most interesting, liberal policies. Pretty much everyone I know who plans to vote plans to vote for him. They also all seem confident that he will only take about 12%. Since most of what I know about candidates I infer from the campaign signs that litter EVERY intersection in the city, Arrate has an appealing, Mark Twain-like style. I dig him.<br /><br /><b>Enríquez-Ominami</b>: As far as I can tell, Marco Enríquez-Ominami's most distinctive qualification is that he is sort of a babe. He's thirty-six years old and has very little experience to recommend him, except that his dad was a popular figure in leftist politics. I get the feeling that a candidate like Ominami would get a lot of flack in the US for being a spoiler. He's not going to win, and it seems like he's only splitting the centrist vote. Because technically there is a coalition system in Chile rather than a strict bipartisan system this isn't exactly true. Ominami has the endorsement of four parties. Practically speaking, this run seems more like an attempt to set a foundation for future national campaigns. But for now, we can all enjoy his super-shiny hair and dazzlingly white smile.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pwUw4O-Ij9vlP97GCOPW8dJwekWSBirHr2ayJ92rA_RBUekSooyUs4-KZpXJrVHzcdmpJqDUxS15y8n4eVnM6MafnMJuawryXhodPbQBB5BNc4HFEubndsybKXq_jnbw_I6cIw/s1600-h/marco"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pwUw4O-Ij9vlP97GCOPW8dJwekWSBirHr2ayJ92rA_RBUekSooyUs4-KZpXJrVHzcdmpJqDUxS15y8n4eVnM6MafnMJuawryXhodPbQBB5BNc4HFEubndsybKXq_jnbw_I6cIw/s320/marco" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414014513639435634" /></a><br /><br /><b>Frei</b>: Eduardo Frei seems like sort of a wet blanket. I mean, dude is never smiling in his campaign photos. What's more, he has already been president and ran into some problems with corruption. It's a bit puzzling that he would win the candidacy at all. But he too is the progeny of a figure in the Chilean left. His father was president before Allende in the late 60's. He's become something of a martyr since it was recently proved that Pinochet had him slowly poisoned to death. The major problem with Frei the second is that everyone thinks his government will simply perpetuate the status quo. People are pretty concerned about the state of health care and education here (public schools were closed for more than a month due to a strike this year). Many people care more about change than they do about the potential policies that will be implemented. You could see it as a twisted turn in the world-wide, Obama-ist change movement.<br /><br /><b>Piñera</b>: Is currently leading all polls. Sadly because he's a total neoliberal. Additionally he is the richest man in the country. Which is always sort of suspect (remember how <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steve_Forbes">Steve Forbes</a> always seemed vaguely unreliable?). The final creep-factor for Piñera is that he is highly involved with Opus Dei. Opus Dei seems to have quite a lot of power in Chile and often comes up when discussing right-wing politics. Generally I nod knowingly during such conversations, when in reality everything I know about Opus Dei I learned from <i>The da Vinci Code</i>. So if (and, it sadly seems, when) he wins he'll probably move to privatize health care further and implement even more voucher programs for schools (or the Chilean equivalent of vouchers which seem to subsidize private schools with public money). And we all know how great those ideas work.... Sigh.<br /><br /><b>Election Policy</b>: Certainly every democratic system has its short-comings. There are two particularly strange policies concerning elections in Chile.<br /> <br />-First of all, if you are registered to vote, it is illegal not to. Unless you can prove to the police that you were sick or more than 300kms from your poling place you must pay a fine. People have told me this discourages them from registering. While I understand that the idea is to underscore the importance of the democratic process, this just seems a little backwards. If I'm not mistaken, this law has been overturned and this is the last affected election. <br /><br />-Secondly, it is illegal to drink the night before the election. Apparently all the bars are closed. This sort of cramps my style since I unwittingly planned a margarita-soaked, Mexican dinner party for tomorrow night. I hope I don't get arrested.<br /><br />I'm sure I'm grossly over-simplifying and over-editorializing here. Even after two months it's hard to fully understand the structure and history of politics in Chile. Anyhow, it will be interesting to watch how things go. I don't think Piñera has enough votes to avoid a run-off, but people seem more and more certain of his eventual success. I'll be sure to keep you all posted.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31960487.post-36965176401280817282009-11-30T14:05:00.011-03:002009-11-30T14:37:53.071-03:00Thanksgiving!So even though it's pretty much always sunny with highs in the seventies, Thanksgiving was last week. The Southern Hemisphere continues to confuse me. To celebrate I cooked the traditional meal for pretty much everyone I know here. I was expecting seven and ended up with ten (eleven for dessert). I also feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment at having done it all by myself. The hardest part was tracking down all the necessary components. For example, although there are Chilean cranberry farms, there are virtually no cranberry products for sale. Also, fresh herbs (besides parsley) apparently won't be available until around Christmas time. Needless to say finding a whole turkey was not possible. But! I documented the whole process and, at the risk of boring all of you, this is how I did it:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXsClF8n1WDPFMLmGTY-y42ODYF0BFzaubSjF5SBT878vitw_OICOlF1phXl2Fp63S6FuAhyphenhyphenkQU2HTvtRl-n-9CJd-xQAgT0mJQBaZDgfsJdW63j3SCj1PhTmKXCNX7KMVcp3dQ/s1600/Caldo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXsClF8n1WDPFMLmGTY-y42ODYF0BFzaubSjF5SBT878vitw_OICOlF1phXl2Fp63S6FuAhyphenhyphenkQU2HTvtRl-n-9CJd-xQAgT0mJQBaZDgfsJdW63j3SCj1PhTmKXCNX7KMVcp3dQ/s320/Caldo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409946127322553970" /></a><br /><br />I was going to need chicken broth for the stuffing and the gravy. The grocery store had condensed cans of Campbell's soup and cubes of mono-sodium-ized bullion. So I had to make my own stock. The kitchen is not equipped with many storage containers so I ended up pouring the stock into an empty bottle that once held a grapefruit flavored seltzer drink. I think the twinge of citrus the broth leeched from the plastic really added to the complexity of flavor. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZz0me3ELkeVPZ8MVcfuQF6HGyGd0rGQgBHVwpI0avAcj6O3vAYTgFdRNOHMuKZK8U1peSHfwi5lBp5p6JEgI7wF6Ztwx74UNIg5VKyNOdpMuhraldSIFM63un1A5AfNdp6YRnPQ/s1600/Salsa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZz0me3ELkeVPZ8MVcfuQF6HGyGd0rGQgBHVwpI0avAcj6O3vAYTgFdRNOHMuKZK8U1peSHfwi5lBp5p6JEgI7wF6Ztwx74UNIg5VKyNOdpMuhraldSIFM63un1A5AfNdp6YRnPQ/s320/Salsa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409947314042720626" /></a><br /><br />So after searching high and low, I was only able to find dried cranberries and a bottle of the most expensive cranberry juice cocktail of all time. I decided to cook these down with frozen raspberries, some red wine and apple chunks. In the end I added quite a bit of orange zest to accomplish tartness. It wasn't cranberry sauce. But it was pretty tasty.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvSV6dGIznCzlA0yF9Dy0wbCXwhIbqbomCh1okm4Zj6QH1rjmcADf1va-aMAgXVchBf-9MDDkKlncKb2gefyKzWovxblJoN9yltyuHhkiWf9w1UMjXVHY1Qq3Abr9z18yPHUS51A/s1600/Dough.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvSV6dGIznCzlA0yF9Dy0wbCXwhIbqbomCh1okm4Zj6QH1rjmcADf1va-aMAgXVchBf-9MDDkKlncKb2gefyKzWovxblJoN9yltyuHhkiWf9w1UMjXVHY1Qq3Abr9z18yPHUS51A/s320/Dough.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409948083917251538" /></a><br /><br />I have been so spoiled having a Cuisinart for the last two years. Cutting together pie dough by hand is tedious and tiring. I was glad that shortening is readily available here though. And it's made with animal fat rather than just vegetable oil so it's extra delicious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37VYkHIY5P-RSeIqBp6EJREJ-S2fecFZwaofN6BKqp9uWLeCTvw5Xb1dXytJ70qLEOs72cKC7t1pdadkBHJwehU-AZBCBTXTexnccFyYpiCsm4-81cqNVJGPXwAGTWr4lHU1Bzg/s1600/Pie1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37VYkHIY5P-RSeIqBp6EJREJ-S2fecFZwaofN6BKqp9uWLeCTvw5Xb1dXytJ70qLEOs72cKC7t1pdadkBHJwehU-AZBCBTXTexnccFyYpiCsm4-81cqNVJGPXwAGTWr4lHU1Bzg/s320/Pie1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409948610413260994" /></a><br /><br />I did a sort of loose conversion of my mother's ratios for crust into metric. And then I realized that I don't even have metric measuring cups and eye-balled the whole thing. I might have skimped on the flour a little, but ultimately it's hard to complain about a crust being too buttery. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LqsLaa_6oVS1Rf4iqstBom6xRjiY1IRA3dNOmc-_o-ci8ee9pAnIhYd-cnXeIF1EAZex7yutJOXBOTIWe_SJxG1wqmEycSZugnj01pJD9nBFgtMAlvtNxS1Qy3UxNtXwfb8sZw/s1600/Pie2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LqsLaa_6oVS1Rf4iqstBom6xRjiY1IRA3dNOmc-_o-ci8ee9pAnIhYd-cnXeIF1EAZex7yutJOXBOTIWe_SJxG1wqmEycSZugnj01pJD9nBFgtMAlvtNxS1Qy3UxNtXwfb8sZw/s320/Pie2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409949503760662674" /></a><br /><br />I guess I've made more gorgeous pies. I'll have to practice more.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHMeBKi8UmzXWUFopTvI0RsuXaDKf_8CHnQI4sWztqFpznZZXkp9QT4MY54634LuzhkBF8TJlBylW7cfS1bX1xnPvA9NJQHJMEs1FbjgKQluzMSud7v2eBqzyqBbWo10FYOjvCQ/s1600/NotTurkey.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHMeBKi8UmzXWUFopTvI0RsuXaDKf_8CHnQI4sWztqFpznZZXkp9QT4MY54634LuzhkBF8TJlBylW7cfS1bX1xnPvA9NJQHJMEs1FbjgKQluzMSud7v2eBqzyqBbWo10FYOjvCQ/s320/NotTurkey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409949873186985874" /></a><br /><br />So it's a chicken, not a turkey. And I trussed it with dental floss (for a hint of mint). But there wasn't a single bit left. So I must have done something right.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7XVsbqjW5ujCOV0Kvql7zIXWtUWd1n5X1uhCjDm5HjTbqh7fM3_wPRWuBczfygatpe3cv5AHwD7_hxejvVRrr4u7q6PLT7t35lWYADdwIYn_f6CRh3i4bVXJ5Ii2IcAl3l8BFw/s1600/Guests!.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7XVsbqjW5ujCOV0Kvql7zIXWtUWd1n5X1uhCjDm5HjTbqh7fM3_wPRWuBczfygatpe3cv5AHwD7_hxejvVRrr4u7q6PLT7t35lWYADdwIYn_f6CRh3i4bVXJ5Ii2IcAl3l8BFw/s320/Guests!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409950652048097570" /></a><br /><br />We didn't have knives for people to cut the meat. Wine was mostly drunk from mugs. We even had to improvise a seat with the propane tank from the stove and a board... But it fits nicely with the spirit of the holiday to have people from six different countries come together over a meal.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07131618721199178338noreply@blogger.com2