Yummy recipe, but only moderately successful, since I wasted about 1/3 of the batter... not to mention constraints of not having neither a proper saucepan nor a pot. What came through in the bath was pretty good, if not a bit cold from sitting on the side of the stove for so long. Would make it again for sure, and I think I'll have a much better handle on making nicely formed gnocchis next time. Might get a pastry bag to make things easier. Hopefully the food will receive a higher mark than "squishy thing, tastes good."
I think I gained back what little weight I lost in France. Binge eating tendences seem to resurface whenever I come back to the states, or maybe a little stressed from having things to do after coming back from vacations.
A bit tired. Got less than three hours of sleep last night. Ideally, sleep would be an optional luxury; would leave much time for getting things done if I sleep a little less.
Thanks to everyone who asked about my mother. She's still about the same, and in pain. My step father really is quite good to her, and me as well. Really shouldn't take him for granted.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Friday, March 25, 2005
I lied. (personal baggage, read at own risk)
And I ran out of chocolate.
Never got around to Renaissance reading, and room is only half way clean. Perhaps I become too distracted in my efforts to multi-task: clean a little here, sew a little there, interspersed with text and quite a bit of crying.
Live life, let love and appreciate all the special people and things in one's life lest they disappear the next moment. It is a waste to dwell on one's personal sadness when the energy can be used to make someone else happy. All phrases which belong in the "easier said than done" category. Mom says them to me all the time now, while sighing over lost love ones.
She still needs an MRI, but disputes between worker's comp/insurance is preventing her from doing so. Our family doctor says she might need surgery. It's painful to listen to her describe her pain to me on the phone. I think she's worried about me as well, being able to take care of myself right out of college in case she will be unable to support me if she lost her job. She hasn't been able to work for a month. Our family has a history of arthritis and cancer, I hope she doesn't have the latter as well. She's trapped in bed, sitting up and moving about is so painful it makes her cry. Otherwise she's sedated with pain medication. She feels useless, and I'm useless to help her. Stupid medical bureaucracy.
I feel lost and infinitely inept. Also afraid to go home, afraid of becoming a sobbing useless mess when I get there and to look again at the reality of her illness. I feel somewhat trapped as well, immobilized by the tugging of many things- my desire to do well in school and my artwork, what I can do for mother, need to find a job and direction after college and so on.
In writing down the thoughts floating through my head, I think I've lost my point, and am getting rather hungry.
Why am I posting such intimate issues in a public space? Trying to avoid throwing my excess emotional baggage in any one person's way?
I'm buying another bottle of wine.
Never got around to Renaissance reading, and room is only half way clean. Perhaps I become too distracted in my efforts to multi-task: clean a little here, sew a little there, interspersed with text and quite a bit of crying.
Live life, let love and appreciate all the special people and things in one's life lest they disappear the next moment. It is a waste to dwell on one's personal sadness when the energy can be used to make someone else happy. All phrases which belong in the "easier said than done" category. Mom says them to me all the time now, while sighing over lost love ones.
She still needs an MRI, but disputes between worker's comp/insurance is preventing her from doing so. Our family doctor says she might need surgery. It's painful to listen to her describe her pain to me on the phone. I think she's worried about me as well, being able to take care of myself right out of college in case she will be unable to support me if she lost her job. She hasn't been able to work for a month. Our family has a history of arthritis and cancer, I hope she doesn't have the latter as well. She's trapped in bed, sitting up and moving about is so painful it makes her cry. Otherwise she's sedated with pain medication. She feels useless, and I'm useless to help her. Stupid medical bureaucracy.
I feel lost and infinitely inept. Also afraid to go home, afraid of becoming a sobbing useless mess when I get there and to look again at the reality of her illness. I feel somewhat trapped as well, immobilized by the tugging of many things- my desire to do well in school and my artwork, what I can do for mother, need to find a job and direction after college and so on.
In writing down the thoughts floating through my head, I think I've lost my point, and am getting rather hungry.
Why am I posting such intimate issues in a public space? Trying to avoid throwing my excess emotional baggage in any one person's way?
I'm buying another bottle of wine.
Easter Weekend
Feeling rather vulnerable. Still reading In the Devil's Garden and working toward reading about Renaissance architecture.
Mom's still sick, and resting in bed, while going through physical therapy three times a week. Going home this weekend to see how she's doing, and to make her food. Dealing with my mother is particularly difficult, as she seems to choke me with an invisible web of emotional obligations everytime I speak to her. Not to blame her though, in light of recent events: her father passed away this past summer, and just the beginning of this week, her god-father also left this world. I have never met my grandfather on my biological father's side, so mom's god-father was like a second grandfather to me. When mom and I were in Taipei, we would have big family dinners with their family all the time. In my last memory of him -I think he was around 70- he was still strong, wielding his dark wooden cane to discipline obnoxious grandkids. He had a good hand, and wrote beautiful calligraphy. He took a cup of jasmine tea and a piece of sweet Chinese sha chi ma cake for breakfast, and a stroll around the nearby park every morning. I went along on some of those morning walks, usually as the silent grandchild intimidated by the man who once ordered me off the dinner table for holding my chopsticks incorrectly.
Upsetting. Want to talk to somebody about personal frustrations, without burdening them with my problems. Someone not overly optimistic, not overly sympathetic; someone who is an ernest listener but realistic enough to tell me that such is the course of life. (Sincerest thanks to the wonderful person I talked to the other day, for your open ears and genuine support, and for everyone who cares.)
This state of mild sadness is nothing a hot bath, clean room and good chocolate can't fix.
Mom's still sick, and resting in bed, while going through physical therapy three times a week. Going home this weekend to see how she's doing, and to make her food. Dealing with my mother is particularly difficult, as she seems to choke me with an invisible web of emotional obligations everytime I speak to her. Not to blame her though, in light of recent events: her father passed away this past summer, and just the beginning of this week, her god-father also left this world. I have never met my grandfather on my biological father's side, so mom's god-father was like a second grandfather to me. When mom and I were in Taipei, we would have big family dinners with their family all the time. In my last memory of him -I think he was around 70- he was still strong, wielding his dark wooden cane to discipline obnoxious grandkids. He had a good hand, and wrote beautiful calligraphy. He took a cup of jasmine tea and a piece of sweet Chinese sha chi ma cake for breakfast, and a stroll around the nearby park every morning. I went along on some of those morning walks, usually as the silent grandchild intimidated by the man who once ordered me off the dinner table for holding my chopsticks incorrectly.
Upsetting. Want to talk to somebody about personal frustrations, without burdening them with my problems. Someone not overly optimistic, not overly sympathetic; someone who is an ernest listener but realistic enough to tell me that such is the course of life. (Sincerest thanks to the wonderful person I talked to the other day, for your open ears and genuine support, and for everyone who cares.)
This state of mild sadness is nothing a hot bath, clean room and good chocolate can't fix.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
In the Devil's Garden
Found a recipe for Banana ketchup in Stewart Lee Allen's In the Devil's Garden:
1 dried ancho chile
6 very ripe bananas, peeled and cut into chunks
1 1/3 cups cider vinegar, divided
1/2 cup raisins, preferably golden
1/3 cup coarsely chopped onions
2 garlic cloves
2/3 cup tomato paste
2 cups water
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon chili pepper
2 teaspoons ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon grated nugmeg
Big pinch ground cloves
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
Big pinch of black pepper
6 tablespoons dark rum
1)Soak ancho chile in warm water for 15 minutes. Remove the stem and seeds.
2)Puree the bananas with 1/2 cup vinegar and put into a heavy saucepan. Puree raisins, onions, garlic, ancho chile, tomato paste, and remaining vinegar in the same processor and add to saucepan.
3)Add 2 cups water to the saucepan. Stir and bring mixture to simmer over medium heat, then reduce to low and simmer uncovered for an hour. If mixture becomes too thick, add water to dilute.
4)Add the corn syrup and sugar and all the spices, including salt and pepper, and simmer for another 30-40 minutes, or until it leaves a thick coating on the back of a spoon. Stir in the rum.
5)Remove from heat and allow to cool. Puree again and strain through a fine sieve to remove solids. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.
Sounds interesting.
Stumbled across an almost lewd episode of food porn from "chez pim" yesterday, detailing her 10+ course meal at French Laundry, complete with a picture for almost every course.
Now reading about food+sex+chocolate in Allen's book, and contemplating culinary orgies.
Back to work.
1 dried ancho chile
6 very ripe bananas, peeled and cut into chunks
1 1/3 cups cider vinegar, divided
1/2 cup raisins, preferably golden
1/3 cup coarsely chopped onions
2 garlic cloves
2/3 cup tomato paste
2 cups water
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon chili pepper
2 teaspoons ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon grated nugmeg
Big pinch ground cloves
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
Big pinch of black pepper
6 tablespoons dark rum
1)Soak ancho chile in warm water for 15 minutes. Remove the stem and seeds.
2)Puree the bananas with 1/2 cup vinegar and put into a heavy saucepan. Puree raisins, onions, garlic, ancho chile, tomato paste, and remaining vinegar in the same processor and add to saucepan.
3)Add 2 cups water to the saucepan. Stir and bring mixture to simmer over medium heat, then reduce to low and simmer uncovered for an hour. If mixture becomes too thick, add water to dilute.
4)Add the corn syrup and sugar and all the spices, including salt and pepper, and simmer for another 30-40 minutes, or until it leaves a thick coating on the back of a spoon. Stir in the rum.
5)Remove from heat and allow to cool. Puree again and strain through a fine sieve to remove solids. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.
Sounds interesting.
Stumbled across an almost lewd episode of food porn from "chez pim" yesterday, detailing her 10+ course meal at French Laundry, complete with a picture for almost every course.
Now reading about food+sex+chocolate in Allen's book, and contemplating culinary orgies.
Back to work.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Day trip to Lyon
The following are some pictures of our day trip to Lyon while in France for spring break. It is all about the food. Thanks to Lili for the professional enthusiasm with which she documented the sights.
More fruits
More fruits
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Chocolate glazed custard filled donut
From Krispy Kreme, from the box of leftover donuts in the Art Library. Note to self not to eat standing up: I demolished that donut in mere seconds, and all that sugar is making me feel a little funny.
Papasan chairs are deceptively comfortable looking things, and they are pretty comfortable, if one positions herself correctly. I sit down, sink back, relax. But instead of stretching out, the circular shape of the chair induces curling into a fetal position for me.
I slept in a Papasan chair last night, since Yulianna couldn't wake me to make me move to the bed.
Sleepy. *yawn*
Papasan chairs are deceptively comfortable looking things, and they are pretty comfortable, if one positions herself correctly. I sit down, sink back, relax. But instead of stretching out, the circular shape of the chair induces curling into a fetal position for me.
I slept in a Papasan chair last night, since Yulianna couldn't wake me to make me move to the bed.
Sleepy. *yawn*
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Peru Negro
Saw Peru Negro tonight. Very good performance, full of energy, which reminds me of Bhangra stuff. It's an Afro-Peruvian singing/dancing troupe with influences from all over the place. Check them out here: http://www.perunegro.org.
Boxed carrot cake mix + canned crushed pineapples + california golden raisin from a box + cream cheese icing with sprinkle. Pretty good cake for box mix, and thanks to Allison for making it.
I want to learn how to salsa. Slightly regret not signing up for Belly Dancing with Kira and Lili.
Choppy sentences reflect slight mental incoherence due to physical illness/tiredness.
I should dangle a piece of carrot cake with icing in front of my nose as motivation for doing homework. Or a slice of tiramisu. Or some brioche and maybe a chocolate croissant. If I could only spend as much time thinking of work as I do of food, I would be a stellar student.
Boxed carrot cake mix + canned crushed pineapples + california golden raisin from a box + cream cheese icing with sprinkle. Pretty good cake for box mix, and thanks to Allison for making it.
I want to learn how to salsa. Slightly regret not signing up for Belly Dancing with Kira and Lili.
Choppy sentences reflect slight mental incoherence due to physical illness/tiredness.
I should dangle a piece of carrot cake with icing in front of my nose as motivation for doing homework. Or a slice of tiramisu. Or some brioche and maybe a chocolate croissant. If I could only spend as much time thinking of work as I do of food, I would be a stellar student.
Munchies
Who knew Wal-Mart "battered" fries would taste so good at 2:30am in the morning? I have been sleeping and eating at irregular hours lately; I went to bed at eight and woke up at 2am. Onward to my ceramics project.
Had the 50 min presentation for Professor Pardo's class on "ut pitura poesie" and Titian's paintings + an article on Venetian Beauty. Somehow it turned into a 90 minute thing with Professor Pardo interjecting her comments here and there. She's really a very interesting lady to listen to. Having just watched The Triplets of Belleville, she reminds me a lot of the adorable little grandma with the spectacles and the one tall shoe.
Hm, just found a recipe for Apple-Savory German Puffed Pancake from an Independent lying on the carpet. Must be a sign to either make the recipe, or eat something.
I don't think I've ever seen winter savory for sale anywhere. Will look again.
Apple-Savory German Puffed Pancake
4-6 Servings
4 tablesoons unsalted butter
2 apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced
2 1/2 teaspoons minced winter savory leaves
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
3 large eggs
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon coase salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons turbinado sugar or (packed)light brown sugar
Preheat oven to 425 degrees
Meanwhile, in a 10-inch skillet with an oveproof handle (preferably cast iron), melt butter over medium-high heat. Add apples, winter savory leaves and granulated sugar. Cook, stirring frequently, until apples are slightly caramelized and tender but not mushy, about 3 minutes. Stir in lemon juice, Spread apples evenly over pan; remove from heat and set aside.
In a blender or food processor, thoroughly mix eggs, milk, flour, salt and vanilla. Pour over apples; sprinkle with turbinado or brown sugar.
Bake pancake for 25 to 30 minutes, until puffed and golden. Serve immediately.
Had the 50 min presentation for Professor Pardo's class on "ut pitura poesie" and Titian's paintings + an article on Venetian Beauty. Somehow it turned into a 90 minute thing with Professor Pardo interjecting her comments here and there. She's really a very interesting lady to listen to. Having just watched The Triplets of Belleville, she reminds me a lot of the adorable little grandma with the spectacles and the one tall shoe.
Hm, just found a recipe for Apple-Savory German Puffed Pancake from an Independent lying on the carpet. Must be a sign to either make the recipe, or eat something.
I don't think I've ever seen winter savory for sale anywhere. Will look again.
Apple-Savory German Puffed Pancake
4-6 Servings
4 tablesoons unsalted butter
2 apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced
2 1/2 teaspoons minced winter savory leaves
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
3 large eggs
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon coase salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons turbinado sugar or (packed)light brown sugar
Preheat oven to 425 degrees
Meanwhile, in a 10-inch skillet with an oveproof handle (preferably cast iron), melt butter over medium-high heat. Add apples, winter savory leaves and granulated sugar. Cook, stirring frequently, until apples are slightly caramelized and tender but not mushy, about 3 minutes. Stir in lemon juice, Spread apples evenly over pan; remove from heat and set aside.
In a blender or food processor, thoroughly mix eggs, milk, flour, salt and vanilla. Pour over apples; sprinkle with turbinado or brown sugar.
Bake pancake for 25 to 30 minutes, until puffed and golden. Serve immediately.
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