I hate to rub it in (ok maybe I don't...) but it's been in the 80s over here. In February. And while it's probably good for my desert-loving skin, my heart is pining for the glorious rolls of grey cloud to come back.
I have always loved the rain. I grew up in the desert; Dubai desalinates sea water from the Arabian (you say Persian) Gulf for public consumption and for other basic needs like oh, watering golf courses (ha!). Hence, salt-free water raining down from the heavens of its own accord was a rare, bizarre joy. If it rained on Christmas Day, we called it a White Christmas.
My favorite memory of a "White" Christmas was about 6 years ago. Brendan had come with me to Dubai, for the first and only time. We were walking out of church on Christmas morning, gussied up in our finest threads, and wishing each other Merry Christmas (which we never did until we had finished church. Do you guys do that?).
Suddenly, the skies opened wide. WIDE. Seriously, it was like someone had flushed the toilet. We all ran to the car, the women of the family hiking up the hems of our soaking saris, Dad dashing daintily over big puddles so his precious shoes wouldn't get wet. We were all laughing, particularly Dad. I love that memory.
Another rainy-day memory: my friend Joo and I were living together in Hoboken. One Sunday, we decided to be comrades in chili-cheese fries, so we walked to the Johnny Rockets about 7 blocks away from our house. I was wearing a sarong; I'm not sure what Joo was wearing. On the way home, it started pouring. We ran as fast as our bellies (full with chili cheese potato goodness) would allow us, but once we got home, I was so drenched already that I went back outside to try to enjoy it. I got soaked to the bone but it was so refreshing, I didn't care.
Do you guys love the rain? I'm sure I'm not the only one who likes to stand outside and enjoy it. I think that may have been one of the first things Bren and I did when we were "courting". He pulled me outside, against my will if I remember rightly (so bossy!) and we stood in the rain, holding hands. Cute, huh?
The only time I shook my fists at the rain was when I rewarded myself with an ice-cream cone after a punishing Bikram Yoga class in Hoboken. Rain on your ice-cream cone is probably one of the saddest things in the world, or at least it seemed so on that day. Hmmm, now I want some ice cream. (When don't I?!)
Anyway, this soup is my rain dance, my plea to the heavens to turn our blue skies grey... to shower us, quench the crops and clean the smog out of the air. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it works. If it rains in LA tomorrow, you'll know who to thank. So there.
It's very very very easy to make; just make sure you don't let the soup boil once you've added the miso because it can get a bit bitter... which I just realised in making this batch, hmph. It's a healthy standby when your fridge and your wallet are bare. A tub of miso keeps at least a year in the fridge, and I'm sure you'll finish it before the year is through. Besides, the tub I bought was only $6. I use white miso paste (shiromiso).
This isn't a traditional miso soup; no dashi or bonito shavings here. I don't have the time for all that. So, miso-purists, forgive me, but my rumbling tummy (and fingers crossed, rumbling storm clouds!) wait for no man. I found some miso paste with bonito already in it. Handy, huh?
I love this soup because it plays on that basic salt and pepper combination: the miso is salty, the watercress, peppery. Plus, I love pouring the hot soup over the fresh watercress. Feels very Iron Chef-y. You can add whatever you want to it really. Thinly-sliced carrots, chunks of store-bought rotisserie chicken, cooked grains, soba or udon noodles... the world is your oyster. I made it with shitake mushrooms, some leftover bamboo shoots, baked tofu and lots of ginger. You could try making this with arugula instead of watercress too.
One note: I made a mistakey. I put the sesame oil in the picture and I meant to put the mirin (sweet cooking wine) in there instead. So just pretend that s-e-s-a-m-e spells m-i-r-i-n, 'k?
Thanks! Come Back Rain! Soup: Miso Soup with Ginger, Watercress, Shitake Mushroom & Tofu
You'll need this stuff (minus the Sesame oil, remember!)
8 cups water 1 generous tbsp minced ginger Handful (6-7) shitake mushrooms, cleaned with a damp cloth, and sliced thinly 3 spring onions, chopped finely, whites and greens separated 3oz-7 oz baked tofu, cut into small cubes (depending on how much tofu you like) 8-9 tbsp white miso paste Splash mirin (Japanese sweet cooking wine) or sake A bunch of fresh watercress (arugula might work here too)
1) Add whites of spring onions and minced ginger to water, and bring the whole lot to a bare boil.
2) Put the miso paste in a small bowl, and once the water is boiling, add a ladle of water to the bowl, and whisk until the paste has dissolved.
3) Turn the heat down on the pot so that the water isn't bubbling anymore, just steaming, and add the miso paste solution. Stir, and add the mushrooms and the tofu. Cook, gently, until the mushrooms are cooked through. Add a splash of mirin. Taste, adding more miso paste if you want.
4) Rip a handful of watercress into individual serving bowl. Ladle soup over the cress. Allow to sit for a minute and then serve, garnishing with the greens of the spring onion.
Our neighborhood isn't "hot" by any means. We have one gang, which probably causes more trouble than I care to know about. All I know of them is from the hideous tags they leave on people's houses. In the 5 years that I've lived here, we've only had one drive-by. The high school students down the street has suffered some heartbreaking off-campus shootings, but for the most part, we're lucky... it's pretty safe over here.
That's why today is such a big deal. I felt kinda weird doing this, but I went out and took some photos to share with you. This all started at about 12p today, or at least that's when I saw it. It's now 430p and the cops are still out there blocking streets.
One of the main arteries in LA, Venice Blvd, which runs from the ocean through almost downtown was shut down right outside our house, with about 10 or 15 cop cars parked across the westbound lane.
Whirlybirds circled the skies for what seemed like a couple of hours.
The sidestreets were cordoned off with police tape. After-school traffic got trapped in the maze of alleys and side streets closed to traffic.
As I approached the main road, it looked like the police had arrested a couple of boys. Who knows if they had anything to do with it though.
I looked on the wires; apparently a man was shot this afternoon, and police were after the suspects. That seems like too "mundane" of a case to warrant all the police presence here this afternoon. I know that sounds cold. I should say that I hope the shooting victim is alright, and if not that his/her family is ok. There. Now stop judging me!
The one cool thing about it all was that I ended up meeting a couple of neighbors I had never met before. One woman introduced me to her young nephew, who was excited by the choppers. She said incidents like these make her wonder what the neighborhood will look like for him; she sighed and said that they had hoped for him to go the neighborhood high school, but now they're realising he might have to go to private school. It's funny how this kind of thing draws people together; curiosity may have killed the cat, but it can also break down walls and get people talking.
This all makes me think of this great story I read today: a former gang member, forced into life in a wheelchair due to a gang-related injury, who turned his life around, got a masters in English (he loves Chaucer and likens himself to Don Quixote), and yet might be deported to Mexico for a crime he committed 10 years ago.
From the article: "You know, you hear people say they joined gangs because they didn't have family or love around them... That wasn't me. I had love. I had family." "Books, writing and teaching, that's all I know now," he said. "And that's all I want to know. I want to inspire the way I've been inspired. I want to bless people the way I've been blessed."
Have you seen Bren's character pieces, "The Madness of Common Saints"? His character is a poet-cum-street preacher-cum-homeless nut, driven only to perform his poetry no matter how people react to him.
It was part of the latest season of Hothouse Films. I shot it! It's worth watching a couple of times to catch Bren's rich poetry (which he wrote in one sitting one night; he is so ridiculously talented and I would say that even if he wasn't married to me). Also it's fun to see how people react to his loud ravings on the streets of Culver City.
It is with a surprising sense of fear that I announce: we finished the fast! Today, for the first time in 21 days, we can partake of meat, dairy, eggs, caffeine, herbal tea, alcohol and leavened bread.
I'm kinda scared of going back to normal though. Ironic, given that at the outset, I wasn't sure I could go three weeks without all those things. Do you find that as you get older you get more attached to your routine? I am, particularly to using the same conditioner, drinking a particular brand of water, drinking tea or coffee at certain times of the day, packing huge amounts of protein into every meal... the idea of doing it differently (particularly when we go out of town) strikes a little bolt of fear in my heart. Creature of habit, through and through.
My fear comes from how good I feel right now. Over the past three weeks, I haven't felt bloated once, my skin has cleared up a bit and I'm more alert. Cooking times are down to a minimum because I'm not spending hours cooking meat, and I've spent less time thinking about what I'm going to eat. I know you're surprised. I don't even recognize myself.
And none of the abstention was hard! In fact, it was so easy to refrain from eating things that aren't good for me (in terms of dairy, and unhealthy foods) because I wasn't giving it up for myself, or for my self-absorbed goals of slimmer waistlines... it's much easier to give things up for someone else rather than for yourself, don't you think? That's certainly true about mothers who often sacrifice their own needs for their children. In this case, I was giving it up for the One who created me, and knows all the horrible things about me, all the pettiness and selfishness... and yet still loves me. It's a silly gesture I know. But to me, it was huge.
And so, I've decided that I'm going to maintain a mostly-vegetarian diet, with lots of whole grains (quinoa, brown rice, farro, freekah...). I was thinking that eating red meat once a week, and fish once a week would suffice. What do you think? How much meat do you eat every week? How does that affect your veggie intake? Do you get the recommended 5 servings of fruit and veg every day?
I had envisioned this morning throughout the fast: waking up with a smile on my face, rays of sunshine in my hair, and a twinkle in my eye because I knew the coffeemaker was sitting on the counter ready for action. I imagined the smell wafting through the house, and curling itself up my nostrils like they do in cartoons. I would look out the window, see a hummingbird buzzing from one orange blossom to another, open up the paper, read a great uplifting story, and lift a hot mug of soy half-and-half laced coffee to my lips. Aaaaaaaah!
Sigh.
It was NOTHING like that! I woke up incredibly groggy, wiped the drool off my face, dragged my feet on the floor, walked toward the computer, and nearly forgot that the fast was over! Then I remembered that I could have coffee today, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster until I realised that the coffeemaker was still on top of the fridge. So I climbed up on a chair and reached for the dusty ol' thing, stretching out more than should be humanly possible first thing in the morning, washed it and set it up. THEN I remembered that the only decaf coffee grounds I had were in the freezer, where they should never be kept because the moisture gets to the oils in the coffee and makes them go stale quicker. I didn't get the paper, there were no hummingbirds buzzing outside and I ended up with a limp, stale and bitter cuppa this morning!
Agh! That's what I get for thinking about myself, and not Him, first thing in the morning!!
Nevermind. It's not a big deal. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Instead, I'm focusing on the next time I can have ice-cream.
Ha!
Speaking of which, look at what my fellow icecream-addict friend Ross will suffer for the sake of an icecream bar.
-x- aarti
p.s. I'm still going to brew another pot o' joe dang it all. Since I haven't brewed coffee in so long, I need help: what coffee do you like to drink?
Most of the time though, I'm not. I rack my brains on Monday and Tuesday. I think about it while I'm on the treadmill, while I'm in the shower, while Bren is talking to me about his bizarre dreams last night (sorry bren!). Elena and Karen, the other members that make up our accountability group, know this quandry well; we meet every weekend to plan our week ahead, and whenever I get to Wednesday, I say "I have to put a recipe up that day and I don't know what I'm going to do".
On cue, Elena then says, "You always say that, and then you figure it out a second later. Look, I can tell by your face that you've already figured it out." And I usually have.
But this week was tougher for some reason. I hadn't visited the farmers market since we got back, so I went yesterday in search of a little pick-me-up.
a bunch of candy striped beets with greens attached,
two bunchs of cavalo nero (black kale),
some onions and shallots,
2 grapefruits,
2 blood oranges,
a butternut squash,
a bunch of carrots,
an asian pear,
a cherimoya (which I suspect is the same thing, or at least related to a custard apple),
and 4 small heads of purple and white cauliflower!
Phew! That should last me the entire week! If you're interested, I'll let you know what I end up doing with the rest of that stuff.
And so, after considering the contents of my fridge and the carefully washed bounty before me, I came up with this week's entry. I bring you the Writer's Block Salad, a tangy, cheerfully messy meeting of salad greens, avocado, grapefruit, blood orange (if you can get one), hearts of palm and toasted sunflower seeds. Mint would be a good addition to this salad, but I didn't have any, so there you go.
Have you ever tried hearts of palm? They're fresh, softly crunchy and just a little sweet. Best of all, they're a pretty dang cheap dollop of "oooh!" in your salads. You can either find them in a jar or in a can; either kind is fine.
Here's hoping this salad unlocks any part of your brain that has been sitting dormant for a while! It worked for me; I've already figured out what I'm making next week.
Writer's Block Salad: Hearts of Palm Salad with Winter Citrus, Avocado and Sunflower Seeds
You'll need this stuff:
1 bag of mache aka lamb's lettuce (or a head of any lettuce will do, tear into bite size pieces though), washed 1 grapefruit 1 blood orange (if you can't find one, use another half a grapefruit) 1 tbsp champagne vinegar (or white wine vinegar) 1 small shallot, minced 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil Handful of sunflower seeds Salt and pepper
1) Segment your grapefruit and blood orange: slice off the top and bottom so it sits without rolling over. Then, using a paring knife, slice the peel off, slicing only as deep as the white pith. I remember this was the first cooking technique I ever saw Jacques Pepin teach on his show. Funny what sticks with you, huh?
NOTE: If you like, you can slice off the peel in stages, first just the outer oily peel, then the white pith; you can use the peel to infuse your olive oil. I didn't do that, and now I'm slapping my forehead over the lost opportunity. D'oh!
2) Ok now, over a bowl, hold the grapefruit in the palm of your left hand and slice on either side of the membrane to extract a perfectly membrane-free segment, like so:
Continue all the way around until all you have left are the membranes. Squeeze them over the bowl. Don't waste any of this precious juice! You should have at least 1/4 cup when you're done. Measure out the 1/4 cup, save the rest for another use (or if you feel comfortable making salad dressings, use all the juice and more olive oil for a dressing that will last all week!)
3) Add the minced shallot and a good pinch of salt. Let it sit for 5 minutes, while you cut up your avocado, and chop up the flesh into either slices or chunks, whatever you like. Drain the hearts of palm, and slice them on the bias.
4) Whisk in the olive oil slowly, until it all comes together.
5) Toast the sunflower seeds in a pan over low heat.
6) Compose your salad, placing avocado and citrus segments on top of the greens, drizzling with a little dressing, and then sprinkling the sunflower seeds over the top. Enjoy!
As part of the Daniel Fast, Bren and I have been giving up swearing too. While it hasn't been too difficult, every now and then, we catch ourselves usually when we hurt ourselves or we're irritated. Our substitutes tend toward the obvious: "mess" instead of sh*t, "fudge" instead of f**k. It's funny how even three weeks of forgoing the 'f' word makes it seem oh so vulgar now!
I wish I'd heard of this kid before though; 15-year old McKay Hatch started a no-cussing club (NCC) at his high-school here in Pasadena, after his friends started asserting their teen angst-ridden independence by sprinkling curse words through their vernacular. He told them to either cool it with the cussing... or hang out with someone else. Surprisingly, they chose to turn their backs on the spicy language. His friends now say that cussing is "verbal abuse" and it provokes violence. Interesting, huh?
And it's catching on. The kid told Jay Leno that he's got 30,000 members worldwide! I am so f'in inspired.
I'm not sure what to write about today. I'm at a loss!
So I thought I'd mention that the Bocuse d'Or, the so-called gold medal of Olympic cooking competitions, began today in Paris. 24 chefs from all over the world will cook a meat dish for 12, and a seafood for 12, in 5 hours and 35 minutes. That time includes butchering a side of beef, and an 11lb Norwegian cod from scratch. The US has never won the competition, in fact, hasn't even placed in the top three, so this year, the team has bulked up Phelps-style, with an all-star coaching team of Thomas Keller, Daniel Boloud and Paul Bocuse, the man who started the competition. The stars: 28-year Timothy Hollingsworth, the sous-chef at Keller's French Laundry, often called the best restaurant in America, and his commis, Adina Guest.
His menu includes a scallop sausage, which sounds intriguing. And in case you think he's all fancy food and no humility, Food & Wine challenged him to create a simple menu, channeling mom. I channel mum whenever I can, so I knew that would work! His butternut squash soup with maple-glazed banana sounds oddly delicious.
Sorry for the late post! Today has been... a lot to take, good stuff, but a struggle nonetheless; whoever led me to believe that life would be easy as long as you were a good person was totally full of it! Aside from that, I've been feeling a bit wiped out I confess, because I am quite weak when it comes to debating. I'm actually horrible at confrontation, even if it's through a computer screen; I get emotionally involved which is why Bren always wins when we debate because he knows how to balance his emotions with his reasoning. Meh!
So I confess that while I am really, really, really happy that so many people have taken part in the "Life" debate (over 28 comments so far! Good Lord! You guys are amazing!), it's a bit overwhelming to be the only voice, apart from Bren's, in the face of so many who don't agree; I'm not asking for pity, I know I asked for it for goodness' sake. And I haven't changed my mind. It's just... exhausting, and maybe a little... deflating? Does that make sense? I don't know if you guys have ever been through that feeling, being the absolute minority opinion about something you feel strongly about. I'm sure you have. Anyway. Woe is me, right?!!!! I need to get over myself! I will keep commenting of course. I just thought I'd share a little honesty with you since that's what people seem to like best about this lil' blog o' mine ("I'm gonna let it shiiiine... this lil' blog o' miiiiine...)
For now, I am relishing in the Fleet Foxes' performance of "Mykonos" on SNL last week, hands down one of the best performances I have ever seen on SNL. Remember them? I posted their gorgeous stop-motion video for White Winter Hymnal last year. Watch this performance soon before the powers that be at NBC yank it off YouTube. I guarantee you'll watch it again and again!
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