Curry Favor with the Rain

(For the life of me, I cannot get this to spin 'round.)

My latest Jamie Oliver cooking experiment was Chicken Tikka Masala. Making this dish brought together two of my goals for 2010: to cook more and to waste less. I wanted to use the rest of my curry paste before it went bad soooo......

FAIL. It was runny. Bill suggested this was because I didn't strain the diced tomatoes and dump the excess water. Who knew! Also, the coconut milk we used was the kind that was all solidified at the top of the can and you have to stir it? Totally news to me. The end result was that, even with stirring, the sauce had this kinda curdled look to it, which in hindsight could have also been from the excess water. Seriously. Look closely at the photo. Curdle. And it felt about that way in your stomach.

The night I cooked this was tumultuous anyway. I live across from a small, neighborhood market, and for years I have watched almost accidents at the stop-sign intersection. Last Sunday night, in the dark and rain, a woman was actually hit. We ran down with umbrellas -- it was pouring -- and the paramedics and her super stoned husband showed up and it seemed like maybe her leg was broken. The kid who hit her looked shocked and then terrified.

So yeah. Weird evening. Curdled food.

Nay BORE

I have this neighbor. He owns a house across the street -- or at least I think he owns it. He could just be one of the many contractors redesigning the interior of said house that come in and out and in and out and have been doing so for about a year. In front of this house is a nice roomy stretch of curb perfect for single car parking. It's a coveted spot in the hood.

This guy, this mini-van driver, likes to park in front of the house driveway, which happens to be just ahead of the coveted parking spot. And no matter what - no matter what!-- he always backs allll the way up to the car parked along the curb, pressing into it's bumper, even if there is a ton of room in front of him, even if he has all the space in the world. Presssssssssssssing into the car behind. Sure, I get and commit the occasional bumper tap when parking, but this seems unnecessary, and the observer can't help but consider it passive aggressive to people parking where he would like to.

Well. I looked out my window yesterday and saw this.

Jerks! My poor wee car, who was in no way taking up more than her allotted space, and was not parked rudely or without neighbor consideration. I could even see the imprint of my license plate on his dusty bumper (yes, I checked). When the red guy finally left, and I had to venture out in the rain, I left a note on someone's car for the first time ever; it was sarcastic and witty and basically said SERIOUSLY!?!?!?! And made me feel better. (jerks!)

After Great Pain, a Formal Feeling Comes

A small grey file on a white screen, blinking with a question mark on it, can not be a good sign. I wanted to think my computer was crinkling its nose, scrunching its eyebrows, and would soon be able to make a decision, as in, turn all the way on.

No. The small grey file blinks at you. Then stares at you. Then tells you what you dread.

I lost all my files. From about the last two years, every new photo, every new song, every new written piece that wasn't emailed or uploaded to various places: gone. Poof. Like wind. Like fog lifting. Like the defroster kicking in on your front windshield.

At the Apple genius bar, young Peru, in his uber bright blue shirt, remarked on my calm (apparently a man lost his shit the day before). Really, it's the most calm I have felt in weeks. I felt swaddled in cotton. I knew this should be a distraught, devastating experience, but I couldn't get myself there.

And I can't help but feel like it is a lesson in letting go.

Sure. I am sad my Scotland and Portland trip pictures vanished... but there are ways to get my favorites. Homemade movies? Also gone. Taxes, bill files, finance spreadsheets, a comic book I made my nieces, my christmas card addresses... poof. My writings during the past two years -- including a short story and a few vignettes --- gone and gone. But all these things feel transient anyway. Some of them were uploaded to this blog, some of them to facebook, but even if they weren't... it's not like my brain had a flashing grey file. And in my memories, there is movement and everything is in 3D.

So, here's to you, little grey flashing folder. I tip my glass. And crinkle my nose.

Covert Ops

This morning, immediately following a computer funeral march at the Apple Store, I came into my office to a pretty terrarium in a vase on my desk. I am fascinated with terrariums --- there were mosses, rocks, ferns, and even a wee bit of shell. Although it had a pretty purple ribbon, there was no card, no note. Hmmm.

I have been musing all day. Initially, I assumed it was my boss --- we had a super hectic week and I thought this was a thank you. Nope. Then I was trying to remember who I had discussed terrariums with... but to be honest, this seemed like an intimate gift and I was starting to get a tad weirded out at coworker possibilities.

Asking asking, getting quirked eyebrows ("Did you put a terrarium on my desk" IS a pretty strange question), I stared at the pretty vegetation and purple ribbon....and it suddenly occurred to me that this was something my lovely friend Anna would do. Indeed! It was she! And what is this? AMY was in on it? Amy sitting behind me all day, perplexed Amy!?!?!

Ha. and yay! Lucky am I to have two such lovely friends to go out of their way to do something nice for me. Even if they are sneaky. :)

Maybe they are all dreaming

President's Day was wonderfully sunny and wonderfully work free. Bill and I went hiking in the San Pedro County Park in Pacifica, Ca, to enjoy some nature and lack of muni buses. We chose the Hazelnut trail-- 3.7 miles one way, 200-1000 foot elevation climb, and described as "moderate to rigorous." Sketchy parts were the muddy parts, but about halfway in, you strike gold; Pacifica is no longer visible and that feeling of "shhhhhh" settles. Of course, we prattled on about Lost, which we have made the mistake of watching. From the beginning. We are on Season 2. No spoilers please.

Bill round about where the hike became pretty nice, excepting the mud.

At the apex of the climb (1000ft?), there was a nice bench. We sat and had some Kombucha and then... well, we like jumping pictures. The timing of my camera (and our lack of understanding of said timing) lead to these beauties. paydirt.

Pacifica doesn't have a ton of cool things, but another hotspot in that wee, weird, stuck in the 90s town is Gorilla BBQ. Definitely not for the faint of heart, these guys are only open as long as they have meat to cook. In fact, their sign says "if it's smokin,' then we're open." Bill says that it "destroys SF BBQ. Maybe even Austin." Neat.

I would like to point out that the plates of food seen here are intended as a meal for one. I'm hoping not, but we definitely got that impression. We ate this at 3pm, could not even remotely finish and were done with food for the day.

Yay Presidents Day! Hike, eat meat and watch Lost!*
* The next three days were spent eating salad.

Hey Good Lookin'

The quest for increasing my cooking repertoire continues. For my third dish, I made beef wellington, which was bland a la English food and during our analysis phase, the eaters suggested I add Worctewherekjshire sauce and more garlic. Aside from lack of notable zing, the dish looked pretty, all pastry wrapped, browned and crispy.

Fourth dish was sweet potato chorizo soup. WIN. Super spicy, super creamy, even though there is no cream! The only thing I would do different for this soup recipe is to keep about a third of the ingredients out of the mixer, and add them in later for texture diversity. Also? Said it made 6-8 servings, but I certainly ended up with a lot in my freezer.

The best part of the most recent cooking escapades? I had my first dinner party. My folks, Bill, and I all crowded around my kitchen table, which just so happens to be the same table my parents' had when they were first married. Sure, my kitchen was a bit snug, and it definitely looks like I have no chair to sit in, but at the last moment, I whipped it out from where it hangs behind the kitchen door.

easy blushing

where we walk

So, I finally gave up on that video post, which is a shame, because I was really excited about it. Alas, I think MAYBE a 54MB video was just too much for Blogger to handle. Oh well. Oh really well.

My disappointment in the un-seeable video resulted in blog avoidance; the blank black screen greeted me every time I clicked on this page and immediately I would feel an 'oh UGH I don't want to deal with that right now' vibe and would flit away to another part of the internet.

I deleted it. Gone. And now I give you this picture in blog silence penance. I love sidewalk chalk art and this guy is amazing. Dude! That is a solid street! The mind boggles.