Saturday, November 27

Post-Thanksgiving Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Ugh.
I officially have a full-body hangover.

Three days of food, booze, late night dance parties, and long runs in the rain have taken their toll.
But hey, why not overindulge? After all, Thanksgiving only happens once a year (for 3 days in a row, apparently).

There is one thing I did not overindulge in, however: cooking. After 6 straight weeks of house dinners, potlucks, and parties, I figured I deserved a break. But since I'm the type of person who shudders at the thought of arriving at a potluck empty-handed, I made one of my favorite, never-fail, always-a-hit dishes -- which also happens to be ridiculously easy:


Garlicky Green Beans 

2 lbs. green beans. Rinsed and trimmed 
2 heads of garlic. Peeled 
2 Tbsp. good olive oil, 
and some coarse sea salt 
and freshly ground black pepper.

Toss the beans and garlic with oil in a big bowl. Then spread them out on a baking sheet and sprinkle with salt & pepper.  Cook at 425F for 35-ish minutes, stirring halfway through. Serve 'em up hot, cold, or anywhere in between. Sit back, relax, and wait for the compliments to start pouring in. 


Mmmmm...green beans. Delicious green beans...


Easy, right?
Plus, think about how much time it'll free up for overindulgence!
Then you can have a full-body hangover too!

Thursday, November 25

Today I am thankful for pumpkins.

And holes in the space-time continuum.
See, I wrote this almost 2 weeks ago, after a 2-week-long pumpkin-cooking frenzy. But then I accidentally closed Blogspot without saving it.  Assuming I'd never see it again, I raised my skinny fist to the sky and cursed the heavens.

But lo, and behold! For here it is!
For once, Blogspot (or the heavens...you never can tell) actually did something right, and you (yes you!) get to reap the benefits!


***
13 November 2010
Toward the end of October, the pumpkins began appearing. They seemed harmless enough at first -- a couple butternut squashes in a bowl here, a pumpkin in the window there.  I liked how they made the house feel cozy in spite of the chill autumn air creeping in around the edges of our inefficient windows.  I also appreciated the opportunity they afforded me to break out of my little RBG rut.

And then November came and suddenly there were squashes everywhere. Bowls full of butternuts spilled over onto acorn-covered counters. Piles of asian pumpkins appeared in every corner. I began to resent them for blocking my access to the coffee pot. I cursed them for tripping me up when the lights were out.

Just as the abundance began to feel oppressive, however, potlucks and rainy days swooped in to save us from being completely overrun. Within 2 weeks, I got to make 2 big, tasty, pumpkin-y dishes to share with friends, and 2 big pots of squashy soup to share with my housemates.

The first potluck was Asian-themed, and was sort of a "coming-out" party for an enormous batch of kimchi a couple of friends and I had made the previous week. Since we had about 26 "asian" pumpkins, I decided to make Thai pumpkin curry.  I made several changes to the recipe, subbing zucchini for tomatoes, a regular potato for the sweet potato, and omitting the chickpeas altogether (mostly because they seemed a little out of place in a Thai dish).  The result was creamy, spicy, sweet, tangy -- all the things you want a Thai curry to be. Alas, I forgot to take pictures of it...I guess if you want to see what it looks like you'll have to make it yourself! (Which I highly recommend. But I suppose you can just cheat and look at the pictures on the link.)
***

And there you have it.
Now you can add holes in the space-time continuum to the list of things you're thankful for too!

Wednesday, November 17

Korean food is a great way to kill time at the unemployment office. Who knew?


Today I waited almost 30 minutes for my name to be called at the Unemployment Office. I spent part of that time thinking about all the other, more useful things I could be doing.  The rest of it was spent writing an ode to kimchi.

O Kimchi, how you thrill me!
Chili-spiked kohlrabi,
Minced-garlic-ginger-macerated mustard greens
Buried in a brown paper bag
In the darkest corner of the dining room.

(I sit, silently beside you,
Tempted but not tasting, salivating and unsatisfied.)

Two weeks we waited while you fermented,
My roommate and I,
Soothing ourselves in the meantime
With kraut and kombucha;
Slowly, systematically we prepared a place in our fridge,
A suitable footprint for a glass gallon jarful of spicy sour (sweet!) greens.

(We sat, longingly beside you,
Sullenly gazing, impatient with waiting.)

Visions of daikon-encrusted chopsticks
Invaded our bowls of bibimbap,
Diminished the pleasures of pachanga,
While we waited for thee,
for room to be free
for you to be stored
for two weeks (or three?)
O, tasty kimchi!

So yeah. That’s what I did at unemployment today…waaaaay more productive than, oh I don’t know, looking for a job!!  (The wait for the kimchi was totally worth it, by the way. Jury’s still out on the wait for a job.)

A few hours later, I sat in my friend's living room watching Howl and was confirmed in my suspicions that a) I write shitty poetry and b) that doesn't necessarily mean people won't like it.

Not bad for a day's work, eh?

Wednesday, November 3

The 1-Month and 1-Day Check-in

Dear Reader,

It is the 31st day of my experiment and I have something I’d like to share with you.
I seem to be suffering from an RBG-related neurosis.  
I call it "Aisle Lurking."

Its symptoms are as follows:
About once a week I take a quick trip to the market for a bunch of kale or some lentils.  Somehow, however, this simple mission becomes a 45-minute-long Odyssey-like journey; having successfully seized my bean, green, or grain I find myself unable to return home.  Instead, I sail aimlessly around the aisles with my trusty basket, drawn this way and that by produce displays and attractive packaging, reading the ingredient lists in likely RBG candidates on the off chance that I might be able to justify buying them.  

Just as disappointment and the taint of failure begin setting in, I finally -- fittingly -- find dietary allies in the Greeks.  Dolmas and hummus in hand, I wend my way around the store to the freezer section, unable to resist the allure of Rice Dream "ice-cream" sandwiches…so much potential pleasure contained in that name! But alas, a few minutes spent scouring the aisle’s bountiful offerings produce only more disappointment.  Nearly an hour has passed by the time I make my way to the cashier station, pull out my EBT card, and walk out with my reusable bagful of brown rice and broken dreams.

This is not normal.
This is madness.
And I'm only a month (and a day) in.