Savor the city

Confessions of a wannabe foodie

2010-10-18T20:46:00.000-07:00

Today I picked up a book from the library called "What we eat when we eat alone." The authors interviewed an assortment of people about what they eat when dining solo, and found the responses to be surprising and far-ranging. Oyster crackers in coffee. Leftover spaghetti sandwich. Frito pie.

Since hubbers has been working long hours lately, I've been eating dinner by myself several times a week. Inspired by this book, I thought I'd write a snippet about tonight's dinner.

When I cook for other people (be it hubbers, friends, or other family members), I tend to put a bit more thought into the meal than when I'm cooking just for myself. I look for good produce and meats. I research recipes. I plan. When I know it's going to be just me, I shamelessly eat pre-made frozen food (Ling Lings, anyone?), canned food, and whatever scraps happen to be in the fridge that don't look too questionable.

Tonight, I had, in this order:
chocolate cake with caramel frosting
porridge aka: jook
garlic roasted sweet potatoes with arugula
grilled cheese sandwich

The chocolate cake was from last night's experiment. I've been trying out different chocolate cake recipes, and I think I like the ones make with oil instead of butter. I might add that one of the benefits of being an adult is that you can eat cake before the rest of your dinner. But I digress.
We made a big pot of porridge on Saturday because I was sick. Combined, hubbers and I had abut 8 bowls of porridge that day. I reheated what was left and added some more preserved duck egg, pork fu, and bamboo shoots. True comfort food.
The roasted sweet potatoes is a favorite in our household. Except that I hate the spiciness/bitterness of the arugula. But hubbers likes it. And I don't know what to sub for the arugula. Spinach?
We had small chunks of various cheeses in the fridge. I figured I should use them before they start to mold. So I grated them up while trying to avoid shredding my fingers, and sandwiched them between some bread we got at the Franz outlet. Yup. Outlet bread.

The book also touches upon where we eat. Some people like to eat in bed, or while reclined on the couch. When I eat alone, it's most often standing at the kitchen counter or sink. Our dining table is often a dumping grounds for the week's mail, fruit, and bread. And at present, a label maker. *shrug* I was too lazy to clear a spot for myself, so I ate at the counter.
I don't really like to wash dishes or use more dishes/utensils than absolutely necessary (because that would lead to more dish washing). So I used the same cutting board to shred cheese, chop a preserved duck egg, and butter bread for grilled cheese. The spoon I used to toss the roasted potatoes was used to haphazardly flip the grilled cheese. Which ended up on the same plate that I used for my chocolate cake appetizer. I did scrape off some of the cake crumbs into the sink, though. I'm not a complete barbarian.

So there you have it. A glimpse into my dining life. I sometimes wonder if there are folks out there who make awesome meals all the time, even when cooking just for themselves. If so, I am secretly jealous and want to punch them. But lest you feel sorry for me and rush over with a portion of your fantabulous dinner to share (not that I'd stop you), I will say that I don't mind my unusual, odd-combination meals. Because at the end of the day, I'm grateful for what food I do have to eat, and thankful to the One who provides so richly.

What do you eat when you eat alone?

Cooking

2010-04-02T23:13:00.000-07:00

Is it possible to fall in love with an apron?

I had the pleasure of attending a cooking class (my very first!) last week, taught by the lovely Ashley of Not Without Salt. The class was called "I Heart Butter," and we spent several hours learning how to make two different types of puff pastry while also enjoying a four0course meal featuring puff.

Pear and pistachio tartlets = YOM!!!!!More pictures of the class can be found here. Check out the layers of awesomeness in the classic dough. You might also see me stuffing my face.

So what does this have to do with aprons? Well, Ashley was wearing the cutest apron ever, and several of us ladies oohed and aahed over it. I wouldn't be surprised if I dreamed about it. My current apron is cute also. But in a different kind of way. Along the lines of Taiwanese-schoolgirls-smiling-for-the-camera-while-making-peace-signs-with-both-hands-and-saying-"keroppi!!!". My dear mother gave it to me for my birthday awhile back, and it's light blue with an applique of a dog with floppy ears. See the difference?

I love the inspiration behind IceMilk's aprons and think the heritage tag is especially endearing. It would make a great gift (hi husband!) and can be passed down from generation to generation. It seems like so many people have learned to cook and entertain through their parents and grandparents, and it's often said that the kitchen is the heart of the home. More than a place where meals are prepared, the kitchen can be a gathering place where stories are shared, relationships strengthened, and memories created.

I sometimes imagine spending a winter afternoon at the kitchen counter with my two kiddos making chocolate chip cookies. There will be flour everywhere. Half of the chocolate chips will be eaten before making it into the batter. The kids will squabble about who gets to put the dough on the baking sheet. But the kitchen will be warm from the heat of the oven. The house will smell awesome as the cookies bake. And I will love every minute of it.

Turkey

2009-12-02T23:40:00.000-08:00

Some people get hurt on Thanksgiving while playing football. I got hurt spending over an hour hunched over a turkey plucking out feather remnants with my tweezers.
I told hubs that we're having prime rib next year.
And I want new tweezers.

Worth the wait

2009-06-25T22:16:00.000-07:00

My favorite fruits are the ones that are harvested in the summer months. Berries and stone fruits. I love everything about them. The combination of sweet and tart flavors and explode in the mouth and delight the senses. The fact that berries don't need to be cut and can be popped in the mouth one by one like candy. The juice of a golden yellow freestone peach that dribbles down the chin.
Unfortunately, summer fruits ripen a bit later in the pacific northwest than in our home state of California. I sighed and fussed as our friends in the Golden State began to enjoy sweet strawberries while our market bins remained full of apples. Lots of apples. I waited and waited for the first Washington-grown berries to appear, looking forward to the day that I too, could enjoy such awesomeness.

Unfortunately, patience is a virtue in which I still need some refining. I cheated a few times. Perhaps 3 times. Those deceiving red fruits flown in from California and Mexico stared at me from their clear plastic boxes and lured me in like Siren songs.

Needless to say, I was met with disappointment. Sour and tasteless, they resembled the perfect summer berry only in form. I vowed to wait until our berry season arrived. But then I fell for the lies again. And again. I finally got it through my thick skull that I should wait. So I waited.

Finally, towards the end of June, they arrived. And boy oh boy, did I indulge. These berries tasted nothing like the ones from Safeway or Trader Joes (I heart TJs, but not their berries). They were the perfect blend of sweet and tart, and not too firm. I bought my first batch at the farmers' market after work, and couldn't resist eating a handful on the drive home, not caring that the juice was staining my fingers. I ended up buying 15 pints of strawberries over the course of the season. Working in farm country definitely provided me easy access to super fresh, super sweet berries at great prices. While some were used to make shortcake, most were eaten straight out of the carton, which is sometimes the best way to enjoy them.

The season has since ended, and other types of berries have arrived. Blueberries. Raspberries. Tayberries. And soon blackberries. The wait for my favorite fruits is over for now, but after the summer ends and we return to months and months of apples and pears, I'm hoping that I'll remember this season's lesson in patience. No more buying supermarket berries in the winter and spring no matter how good they look. The ones that arrive in the summer are the best, and worth the long wait.

A special day

2009-06-07T22:20:00.000-07:00

There are some people in our lives who just make life better. More fun, more meaningful. Hubs is one of those people, and last Saturday was his birthday. Although hubs isn't a huge fan of surprises, I am, and every year I try to think of something special to do for him on his birthday. Two years ago, I flew back to CA and delivered an ice cream cake. Last year, I introduced him to Oski. This year was a bit more low-key, and I wrote him a letter listing reasons why he's special to me. Unfortunately I didn't plan ahead very well and was left writing my letter on Snoopy-themed stationery with a purple border. It was that or the one with the crazy panda and Japanese words.

As my pen drifted across the page and I reminisced on our past few years together, I couldn't help but smile at the many reasons I had to love hubs. Some were silly, and some would probably make no sense to anyone but us. But all have enhanced my life in some way. A warm body to snuggle with every night. Someone who makes me laugh until my sides hurt. Patience in teaching me how to ski and play tennis. A partner to explore this wonderful city with me.

Thank you, hubs, for making my life better. I love you.

(Mount Rainier as seen from the Bainbridge-Seattle ferry)

Would you eat this?

2009-05-19T16:55:00.001-07:00

This post doesn't really have anything to do with anything save that we went to the Seattle Cheese Festival last weekend, and our trip made me think of an article I had read recently about mite cheese. . .

From wikipedia

Quark flavoured with salt and caraway is shaped into small balls, cylinders or wheels, and dried. Then it is placed in a wooden box containing rye flour and inhabited by Tyroglyphus casei cheese mites for at least three months. The digestive juices of the mites diffuse into the cheese and cause fermentation; the flour is added because the mites would otherwise simply eat the whole cheese instead of just nibbling away at the crust as is desired. After one month, the cheese rind turns yellow, after three months reddish-brown. Some producers, however, allow the cheese to ripen for up to one year, until it has turned black. The taste is said to be similar to that of Harzer cheese, but with a bitter note (increasing with age) and with a distinctive zesty aftertaste. Mites clinging to the cheese rind are also consumed.

yum?

A perfect moment

2009-04-24T11:21:00.000-07:00

A fifth day of sunshine for the week has descended upon Seattle today. I sit by the window admiring our peek-a-boo views of the ship canal, eating Brown Cow yogurt (low-fat plain. i REALLY DISLIKE non-fat) with homemade granola. It's been a simple week. Besides the bright yellow orb in the sky reappearing after a long hiatus, nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Chores, some tv shows, a movie from the library, cooking and baking here 'n there.

To an outsider, our life may seem fairly mundane. We don't stay out at the bars until the wee hours of the night, we rarely go to the theater, we don't have netflix. Our lives are not fit for a reality TV show. We're a plain, Jesus-loving, unassuming, monogamy-is-hot married couple that enjoys the simple life (not the Paris Hilton kind, mind you). We love to laugh. We like cheap eats. We wait and wait and wait for movies to go from theater to DVD to library before seeing them for the first time. We're thrilled when we find an awesome item at Goodwill. We take walks around our neighborhood. Sometimes.

Monday was one of those times. Just as I was about to start prepping dinner, the hubs called and excitedly suggested that we pack our dinner, go for a walk, and eat dinner outside. I put together a simple meal of haiga rice and champuru (aka stir-fry). As soon as hubs got home, we threw our dinner in a bag, and off we went. We walked over to the Fremont cut of the ship canal, the very one that our window overlooks, and sat on a bench by the water.

As we ate, we talked about our days, admired the strength of the rowers passing by, and relished the sunshine and cool breeze. Sometimes people wish they were doing something else, somewhere else, as evidenced by the many bumper stickers I've seen. I'd rather be fishing. I'd rather be riding my bike. But as I sat enjoying the close of the day with my husband, I realized that there was nothing I would rather be doing and nowhere I would rather be. This was truly A Perfect Moment. We are blessed indeed.

Nostalgia

2009-04-10T22:42:00.000-07:00

It seems that many people have fond childhood memories of visiting a neighborhood candy store or soda fountain for a sweet treat. Big eyes peeking over the countertops, carefully scanning the large glass candy jars and debating what they should choose on this special day. Toothy smiles slurping ice cream from a crispy waffle cone, the coolness offering respite from the heat of the mid-summer sun.

Although my early years weren't quite like this (our predominantly-Asian neighborhood haunts sold pearl milk tea and were lined with bins of dried plums, ginseng, and Pocky), Husky Deli in West Seattle affords me the opportunity to have a similar experience.

As the mercury sailed past 60 last weekend, the entire city along with their dogs came out of hibernation and took to the streets and parks to soak in the much welcomed sunshine. After a leisurely stroll through the Ballard Farmers' Market, the hubs and I headed over to the heart of West Seattle, also known as "The Junction."

Since we arrived later in the afternoon and it was a Sunday, most of the stores were already closed or about to close. Husky Deli was an exception. As we walked in, we were met with a line about fifteen ice cream eaters deep.

I boldly poked my head between various bodies so I could get a good look at what was in the case. Interspersed among the classics were some creative flavors such as Strawberry Grand Marnier and Swiss Chocolate Orange. After hemming and hawing for several minutes, I finally decided on the Kona Koka Rum in a cone, the same as my first visit.

We sat at a counter on swivel stools and, like everyone around us, immediately began to dig in (bite in? lick in?) to our scoops of creamy goodness. A serious dilemma arises when faced with occasions such as these. At what speed should said goodness be devoured? Too fast, and the moments of pure bliss disappear before they've barely begun. Too slow, and you're left with a sticky, drippy mess.

Having a cone at the Husky Deli is about more than just the ice cream itself. For the same price I can get myself a 1/2 gallon at Safeway. Visiting this company that's been making its own ice cream for 75 years; sitting by the windows and people watching; seeing both young and old enjoy their Sunday treats. In these moments, the cares of the week seem to fade away, and we are transported to times past, when life was simpler and our biggest problem was trying to decide between chocolate or strawberry. And we sit back, smile, and enjoy.

Blogging again

2009-04-03T10:07:00.001-07:00

I've had several blogs over the years, none of which had a consistent theme or was regularly updated. But for some reason, I've recently felt compelled to start blogging again. This time with the intent to be a bit more focused. Perhaps it's because I spent the better part of my spring break putzing around Seattle, discovering our neighborhoods' hidden, or not-so-hidden, gems, and then crafting little descriptions about my experiences in my head so I could savor those moments long after they had passed. Like the day I went to Muse, got myself a soy latte and cookie, then curled up on their couch and read a good book for 2 hours. My idea of a good time. Kinda boring, I know, but before that, I can't even remember the last time I was at a cafe purely for pleasure. I walked out the door longing for more afternoons like those.

Since I love food, both eating and cooking it, it seems logical that I'd start a food blog. But I wanted to blog about more than just food. I wanted to write about my encounters with this city that I've grown to love. Yes, most of these encounters involve food in one way or another, but sometimes they're just meanderings through our library or browsing through stores featuring local artists. The breadth and depth of what I write about will probably change over time, but my goal is to focus on Seattle and what it has to offer.

Although Seattle has had its share of unusual weather lately (snow in April?!) signs of spring are popping up all around. The bright yellow daffodils provide pops of color on gray drizzly days. The branches of the cherry and plum blossom trees that had been barren for the past 6 months are again filling with pink and white blooms. And in front of every checkout aisle is a display of chocolate Easter bunnies and pastel-colored Peeps.

Spring is often associated with rebirth and new beginnings, so as I start off on another blog adventure, here's to something new.

(view from our balcony on a rainy afternoon)