Blogger and the State of Oregon joined forces and made off with my sense of purpose.

The other day, I ran into my friend Pete as I was leaving New Seasons. I had just spent an enormous amount of effort (and an inordinate amount of time) NOT spending my food stamps on non-RBG foods and was feeling kind of bummed out about it. As we walked home, I mentioned that I was beginning to question the whole rice, beans, and greens program.

"What's the point?" I asked. "I don't save any more money by limiting myself than by having whatever I want..."

(Point of Information: While the state of Oregon will not give me Unemployment, they will give me a ridiculous sum in food stamps every month. It now costs me exactly the same amout to eat rice, beans, and greens as it would to eat olives, eggs, figs, and fancy goat cheeses: $0.)

"...and I'm pretty sure no one's actually reading my blog, so..."

(Point of Information: Blogger does not tell my followers when I post. Probably this means no one is reading my blog. This makes actually sitting down to write it way more difficult.)

"Yeah," Pete replied, "But wasn't part of the point to start appreciating things more?"

"Huh. Good point...I guess I had sort of forgotten about that part."

So I guess this is the part where RBG stops seeming so fun and abundant (...funbundant? Is that a reasonable word to invent? Whatever -- it's my blog. I can do what I want!).
I guess this is the part where I commit to having discipline and obeying the rules I've set for myself even though I don't have to. It's also the part where I write blog posts even though maybe no one's reading them. And I do these things not because they're cool or fun, or because someone else is watching, because I said I would.

The End.

(Cue dramatic music & "movie trailer announcer" voice)

In a world where rice and beans reign supreme;
Where hyper-productive grad students are also serial procrastinators;
And health-conscious quasi-hippies have access to industrial kitchens,
Two women will arise with one goal: making homemade mochi.

In this harrowing tale, 2 fiendish friends attempt to batter their humble servant Brown Rice into puffy glutinous submission. Who will reign supreme? Can this unassuming grain overpower two crazed women wielding wooden pestles and le Creuset cookware? Or will concerned co-oppers come to rice's rescue?

From the people who brought you such hits as Multigrain Mochi and Almond Amazake comes an amazing tale of the triumph and power of Brown Rice over incredible odds:

Attack of the Mochi Eaters 

a story in email form by Rosalie Roberts

"$4.69!" I thought to myself. "That seems like a lot. What's in this mysterious Mochi stuff? Just brown rice, sea salt, and seeds! Well, I must take it home and taste it to be sure about it."

With that I purchased the seeds flavor of Mochi, chopped it into 1" cubes and cooked it on 450 until it was squishy in the middle and crispy on the outside. Delicious. I dipped it in a little bragg's liquid aminos.

"I'm an industrious natural food nerd" I exclaimed to no one in particular. "Surely I can make some of this mysteriously delicious savory mochi." 

To the internet I went, excited by the possibilities of mass mochi sheets drying on my dining room table. All, I imagined, for little more than the price of organic sweet brown rice. 

Oddly, I found little information about how mochi was made. Many people wrote extensively on how to make sweet mochi with rice flour, but the main websites about savory mochi featured blurry, far away pictures of smallish, wiry men hovering over gigantic mortars, wielding pestles the size of labrador retrievers. The men seemed exhausted yet determined in the photos.

I enlisted the help of my metalhead vegan fixed-gear-riding friend. She was the perfect helper for operation homemade mochi: committed to the cause of health foods, quirky enough to consider the project, strong enough to endure at least an hour of work, and totally accustomed to hours of loud noises.

I cooked the rice for what seemed like forever, and tossed it in the food processor, naively thinking that would suffice. I removed the processed glop and my clever friend observed that it was still quite full of air and not nearly starchy or stretchy enough. Out came the mortars and pestles. Well, actually, we only had one mortar and one pestle, so my noise-tolerant friend spread her portion of the future mochi out on the table and starting pummeling it with a durable le creuset saucepan.

We imagined ourselves like the determined, exhausted men in the photos and persisted in the thwacking, smashing, whapping, and bludgeoning until our housemates insisted we stop.

I spread out the mochi and let it dry, then flipped it over and let it dry again. 

I observed, several days later when I cooked a few bits of the mochi, that it had never gotten even remotely like your perfect-textured mochi. Whatever mochi-pressing devices you have (I imagine them much like those jackhammerish machines used to put hundreds of pounds of pressure on new asphalt), they do their work well. 

I'm pleased to report, in spite of my best efforts, that I find your mochi highly superior and entirely worth the going rate at my local natural foods stores.

Sincerely,

Rosalie

To which the good people at Grainaissance responded:

Rosalie, 

I am laughing out loud as they say.  That note you sent me is a treasure and an inspiration to all of us here at Grainaissance invovled with mochi making.  And as a famous person once said, 'I feel your pain'.  Because a long time ago I tried, as you did, as you described, to figure out how to make that blasted Japanese stuff called mochi.  I had a few advantages you didn't have until now.  And with just a few wise comments from an experienced mochi maker, I was able to produce some decent homemade mochi.  You know you are making progress when you get the mortar and pestle out.  You've seen those sketches of the woman on her knees with the man wielding a wooden mallet.  He brings the mallet down on the cooked rice and in between she adds a little water and flips the mochi over so all the rice eventually crushes into to each other.  The real trick to homemade mochi with brown sweet rice is this:  You have to let the rice soak for 14-24 hours.  Then drain off the water and set up a steamer.  No pressure cooker, no boiling. You have to set up a steamer.  Now I think there may be a way to combine pressure cooking and a steamer.  But that will take some experimentation.  The steaming process on the stove will take 2 hours.  Don't let the boiling water underneath splash up and touch the rice.   Anyway there's a few tips.  There are more.  But I like what you and your friend (fixed gears eh?) did.  Hopefully your food processor is OK.

I'm sorry the mochi costs so much out your way.  It's about $3-$3.29 out here.  I don't think the stores have to charge that much.  $4 should be max for now.   Thanks for being a fan and appreciating our mochi.  We still have problems as we have changed machines in the past year and it has caused me great worry cause the mochi is not as it once was.  Still good and I love it though.  

Tony Plotkin  

President Grainaissance 

So there you have it, folks.

In the epic and ongoing battle of rice vs. hippies, rice wins every time.

Argumentative reasoning cannot solve all my problems.

I miss tomato products.
And mushrooms.
And there's just no amount of rationalization, fermentation, or "manifestation" that is going to make either of those a rice, bean, or green.
That's all.

Let us now praise fermented grains.

Don’t you make that face at me; this has nothing to do with alcohol.

(…Sheesh! A girl goes wild on one spring break and no one ever takes her seriously again...)

But first: 

Go over to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fermentation_(food) and learn about fermentation, the amaaaaazing combination of time and bacteria that transforms my 3 new favorite foods (yeah RBG! Woo!) into a sweet-sour-fluffy-fizzy cornucopia of palate-pleasing, digestive-health-promoting probiotic goodness. (And don’t you make that face at me Paul Bindel: the OED definition was neither informative nor interesting).

That's right, my newest culinary obsession basically involves waiting around for bacteria to eat my food before I eat it.  Just like a baby bird whose mom regurgitates half-digested worms back into its mouth...only less gross. Sort of.

Yep. Totally stoked on bacteria. 

Hey, I’m unemployed, alright? I’m taking what I can get here.

Skeptical? 

Let me tell you a story. I’m starting to miss bread. I’m starting to miss it something awful. Rice is nice, and lord know things in bowls generally please me. But there is something indescribably satisfying about being able to pick up bread-wrapped food with your hands and just stick it right in your mouth.  This is where dosa comes in to the picture.

Dosa is a super-awesome Northern Indian fermented rice pancake batter that is responsible for my gastronomic happiness at least once a day. Here’s how it works:

First you Make the Batter!

Get 3 C white rice and 1 C urad dal (I’ve used mung and red dal too, and both worked fine).

Soak them separately overnight in water.

Drain and rinse them.

Process each into a smooth paste.

Mix together, and add water to make a thin batter.

Add about ½ tsp. vinegar and 1 tsp. salt.

Let rest at room temperature overnight...it's fermenting!

The next day, you should have this (it's fermented!):

You might need to add more water to get it this thin.

At this point you can also add more salt to taste, and minced chilis, garlic, or ginger.

Then, you Cook the Batter!

Heat oil in a heavy, preferably cast-iron pan. (Coconut oil is ideal, and super tasty here…but alas, not part of the RBG program. So I just use veg oil).

Now the tricky part: spread the batter on the pan in a circular motion to make a very thin pancake. You have to be really quick here, because the batter wants to stick and start cooking right away. But don’t worry if it's not that thin. It'll be tasty anyway.

Then the “Oh, I know how this works” part: When the dosa gets sort of solid and bubbly on the top,
you can either a) roll it up with some kind of tasty filling (like curry potatoes. Or chole…yum!) or b) flip it over and cook it on the other side and then use it to scoop up some tasty curry you just invented.

See?

Delicious!

So. Back to the whole fermentation thing. Those 12 hour soaks you give the rice and lentils? During the second one little microorganisms (bacteria!) start to turn some of the starches in the batter into sugars which gives pancakes that have exactly NO leavening in them a light, chewy texture AND (pay attention -- this is important) make it so that after 2 weeks(!) in the fridge the dosa batter is still good.

As a matter of fact, it’s better every time I use it!

That’s right, folks -- dosa gets better with age. 

Like wine. 

Anyway, if you still have any doubts about the amaaaaazing power of bacteria, check this out: http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/bonnie_bassler_on_how_bacteria_communicate.html.  C'mon. It's about talking bacteria. How could you not want to watch it?

PS: Kudos to you if you made it all the way down here. Seriously, you should reward yourself...with a fermented beverage perhaps!

2-Week Check-In

It’s been 2 weeks.

2 surprisingly easy, bountiful weeks.

I have learned 3 really important lessons over their course.

1. Creativity helps a lot.

That’s how you discover that there's actually a lot you can do with rice, greens, and beans. Thai salad rolls, for example? Rice paper (rice-duh), fried tofu (beans), and lettuce (greens). Same principal applies to a bunch of other Asian foods. And Indian foods too. And then there's hummus and falafel. And rice-flour biscuits with tempeh gravy (yum!). And so on.

So basically, I'm eating pretty well.

Oh yeah, and coffee? Totally a bean.

(Now, if I can only figure out a way to rationalize all the other ingredients in chocolate I’ll be set, since cocoa comes from beans too.)

2. Friends help a lot.

I could say a bunch of schmaltzy BS here about how everyone’s being really supportive. 

But I’m not going to. 

Instead, I’m going to refer you once again to Post 1, Rule 5, a.k.a the “Free Shit” clause. It's the one where my wonderful, supportive friends take me out for a drink sometimes, or share their delicious dish, or leave something fun on the communal shelf in the fridge and I say, "Oh, hello free non-RGB items. Get in my belly."
And then I say, "Thanks,"to my friends for being so great.
(And maybe a bunch of schmaltzy stuff too, if they play their cards right.)

3. Fermentation F-ing rules.

Tempeh. Miso. Kombucha. Dosa. Sake. Kimchi. Perhaps even rice-flour sourdough? 

Behold—the vast power of bacteria, making my limited culinary life more exciting by the day. 

O bacteria, how I love thee. …Sigh…
(More about that tomorrow.)

PS: Ignore the time stamp (again)! I wrote this yesterday but my internet was broken (Again!).

Excuses. Really really good excuses.

I can see you now: you've begun shaking your head.
I can hear you too: "Well, there goes Ashley's second attempt at blogging. Straight down the digital tubes, just like the first one."
I can reassure you: Not this time.

I haven't posted in almost a week, it's true. But that's because for the past 6 days I have fully devoted myself to the arduous task of shameless self-promotion.
First, I tried pimping myself out as a personal chef on Craigslist. Check out my sweet ad: http://portland.craigslist.org/mlt/res/2003572740.html
Now go tell your friends.
Spread the word.
Help me build my empire.
Seriously...there could be a pie in it for you.
See? Shameless self promotion. Like I said.

Next, I began courting my dream job: Portland Mercury food critic. That's right, according to an ad they posted I could possibly get paid to be a snarky, opinionated, foodophile. And I could eat meals on the company dime! No way! Where do I sign up?!
Well.
Apparently they need me to write a restaurant review as part of my application.
Apparently they do not know that I am on an extremely tight budget. Which means I haven't eaten out in like a month.
Have you ever tried to write a review for a restaurant you haven't eaten at in a month?
I didn't think so.
It is really really hard.

Anyway, that's where the week went.
Lame excuses?
Maybe.
But I bet you won't think so once I'm the Master of Portland's culinary universe.
Then you'll be all "Hey! Wanna grab some lunch or something? Sweet. So...The Mercury pays for your meals, right? Just sayin'..."
And I'll be all "Told ya so. Just sayin'..."

And then my head exploded.

I've begun inflicting Rice, Beans, and Greens on my friends.
My housemates know I love to cook. They also know I'm unemployed.
So when we decided to have our first ever house dinner, guess who got to cook?
Yep. Me. The one without shit else to do all day.
And can you guess what I made?
Yep. Rice, beans, and greens.

Don't worry. It's not as bleak and boring as it sounds.
We had spicy lentil Dahl, Saag (a creamy, spiced, Indian spinach dish), and dosa (flatbreads made out of this kind of sourdough-y rice and lentil batter.)

So yeah. The RBG program now includes recruiting players for my team.
I'm like a reverse addict -- I need company while I avoid my fix.

In other news, I am now officially Unemployed.
Livin' on the dole.
Sucking the government teat.
(Municipal Similac is definitely allowed as part of the RB&G program, by the way. See Post 1, Rule 5.)

Anyway, I was sitting in the unemployment office the other day waiting for an agent to call my number and I had a couple of realizations:

1. Applying for Unemployment and EBT are the most useful and productive things I've done in weeks. Weird.
2. Everyone I know in Portland is or has been on Unemployment and/or Food Stamps. It's like a rite of passage for being a "real" Portlander or something.
3. I'm sitting in the lobby of the Self Sufficiency Office...waiting for the state to take care of me. 

And then my head exploded.

Sooo...Manifesting Employment?

Apparently limiting my grocery list to three main ingredients is the best way to secure an enormous variety of free food products. Within 2 days, my pantry expanded exponentially. Following the landscaping score (Yeah, Nancy!), at least a half-dozen avocados, approximately 2 gallons of peanut butter, and the tastiest cantaloupe I've eaten in at least a month magically appeared in my fridge. Oh yeah -- there was a potluck brunch too.

Yeah, guac!
Get up in my belly, GF peanut butter cookies!
Homefries, you say? Don't mind if I do!

Now I'm thinking to myself, "Hmmm...maybe I should give up job searching. Then, every employer in the Northwest will want a piece of me!" ...Yeah. That's probably exactly what will happen.
So tomorrow, I'm going to start a strict regime of Unemployment and Food Stamps. Let's see where a couple sweet sweet days of employment asceticism gets me.

Yeah, teaching!
Get up in my wallet, paycheck!
Freelance writing, hmmm? Well...if you insist!

Yep...That's probably exactly how it's gonna go.
I'm pretty sure this is the Best. Plan. Ever.

Manifesting Abundance

RBG 2.0: Day 1 gives me great hope.
I did not spend any stupid money on non-RBG items.
But I did manage to eat all kinds of non-RBG items.

I mowed lawns all day with Adam.
He gave me almonds and bananas.

I mowed the lawn of a woman named Nancy.

She gave me tomatoes and zucchini.

I came home to my new housemate, who offered pickles and beer.

Momoko followed suit, saying what's hers is ours.

If I was a hippy I'd say that I manifested abundance, and the universe provided for me.

But since I'm not a hippy I think I'll thank my friends instead.

And Nancy.

Nancy was rad.

Blog fail. Blogger fail. Bloggest fail.

Holy crap! Did you see that?! I just failed spectacularly at like 3 things all at once! Before I even started them!

First I was all “Oh, hey. I’m an ascetic. I’m only going to eat rice beans and greens for 3 months.”
Then I was all “Oh, hey. I’m a writer. I’m gonna blog about being an ascetic. Awesome.”

Then the sun came out. Apparently sunny Saturdays are not conducive to asceticism.  

Apparently they are much conducive to tacos. And cocktails. Not so much to rice beans and greens.

So I failed at asceticism. 

"No problem though," I thought to myself. "My friends know I'm broke...surely someone will buy me lunch or a drink." 

But alas, I failed to get either lunch or a drink bought for me.

Then, to top it all off, my internet broke. So now, not only do I have to buy snacks and drinks to use the interwebs, but I also totally space on blogging every single time I'm online--Fail #3.

Possibly I’ve been subconsciously blocking the blog out, so I don’t have to confront my failure. 

Either way, both diet and the blog seemed dead on arrival.

But look!

They have arisen! It’s like digital-dietary Easter! My sins of gluttony and forgetfulness are forgiven!

The blog begins anew! -- the diet too.

October 1 2010. 

It begins.

Rice. Beans. Greens. Blog.

Same rules as before, only now I have a support group. (And still no job.)

Henceforth I shall have discipline.

Henceforth, I shall eat three kinds of food and write about it.

Oh man.

It will be so rad.

You don’t even know.

Seriously.

Just wait.

PS: Ignore the date stamp. I wrote this 30 Sept 10. I swear!!