October 30th, 2007
Anybody got an idea for a craft I can make that will result in a tree topper? Last year I wired a stuffed octopus to the top of my tree, and while I did enjoy it, the toy wasn’t meant as a tree topper and was constantly sagging or falling down off the tree. I need an idea for something I can make. Nothing too country cottage, either.
Ideas? Mel, I’m looking at you.
October 29th, 2007
I have been making roasted pumpkin seeds tonight and they are so good! I thought I’d post the recipe now, in case you happen to be carving your pumpkin today. The product is dry and crunchy, like a peanut or a corn nut but less oily. They are delicious and easy as pie to make. Some of the steps are quite slow, so you’ll want to plan on how you’ll organize your time to do them right.
1. Take the seeds from inside your pumpkin. Separate out as much of the clingy pumpkin goo as you can. I found it was easier to rinse them in a bowl of cool water a few times, as this seems to get the sticky stuff off the seeds.
2. Once they are nice and clean, put them in a bowl of very salted water (I used about 1/4 cup of salt in 2 cups of water) and let them soak for four hours or so. This gets some nice saltiness right into the seed, which helps the flavour later on.
3. Now give the seeds a quick rinse, just a short blast under the tap in a colander to get any excess salt off the surface of the seed.
4. Spread the seeds out in a single layer to dry, on cutting board or cookie trays or whatever is on hand. They will need eight hours or so to really dry, so make sure you help this along by not having the seeds overlap each other at all. You could let them dry overnight if you want. The reason you need them to be dry is so that your oil and spice mixture will stick to the surface of the seed. If they are wet, they won’t take the dressing. While drying, I found my seeds were a bit tacky and slimy feeling at points, but don’t worry about that. When they are properly dry, they will feel perfectly smooth.
5. Figure out how many seeds you have by measuring them in a measuring cup. My spice and oil recipe was perfect for 1 cup of seeds – if you have more, adjust the recipe accordingly.
6. In a small mixing bowl, put 1 teaspoon of oil and about the same amount of spice. Mix them together with a fork, then throw in the seeds and stir with the fork until all are coated well. I tried the following combinations and they were all very good:
1tsp olive oil and 1tsp garlic salt
1tsp safflo oil and a mix of salt, cumin, chili powder, and oregano – in descending order of quantity; about 1tsp total. After these ones come out of the oven, sprinkle about 6 dashes of Tobasco sauce over them and stir well. Let dry before packaging for storage.
1 tsp olive oil and 1 tsp large grain salt
I would advise olive oil for anything Italian or Greek or plain themed, as the flavour is perfect. If you want the oil to have a subtler presence, use safflo or another very mild oil. You could also try an asian mix, perhaps with sesame oil? Or try a curry version.
7. Spread the seeds in a single layer on a baking tray and pop in the oven at about 350. Baking will take about 45 minutes, but keep an eye on them – the most important indicator of doneness is when they are a nice, dark golden brown colour. They will need to be stirred every 10 minutes or so, to get both sides and to compensate for any hotter spots in your oven. Just watch them and don’t let them burn.
8. Take them out, and let them cool on the counter. Don’t try to eat one right out of the oven!
According to the internet, these seeds can be kept for one week or one year. I think you should treat them like any other seed or nut – store in an airtight container and refrigerate to prevent rancidity, and they should be fine for six months or more. Not that they’ll last that long.
October 28th, 2007
Husband and I are back on a diet. After a couple (okay, a few) months of gay abandon, we have both put on weight. We’ve been eating out more and I’ve taken to ordering dessert after every meal, even when I have to stuff myself to the aching point to ingest it. Yesterday, while eating a plate of pasta in alfredo sauce, I realized that my jeans are too tight. And these are my usual, comfortable jeans, not the skinny jeans I only fit some times. And I’m not the only one – Husband has grown a bit about the middle too. I have taken to referring to us collectively (and affectionately) as “the sausages.” The word sausages is cute, but, alas, looking like a sausage is decidedly not cute. I’m too afraid to weight myself but clearly, things must change.
I dislike dieting because if there’s a way to do it without feeling hungry, I haven’t discovered it. But anyway, in order to make this as painless as possible, I will stick to my usual tricks for conning myself into thinking I’m eating. Even when I totally am not. And, in the spirit of sharing, I hereby present BV’s diet rules. Because you know you love a good rule.
1. Keep gallons of pickles around. At almost no calories, they are a free food that tastes great.
2. Cook at home so you can control what’s in the food. You would be shocked at how much fat is in restaurant food. Plus, the portions are ridiculously enormous. Husband and I can share an entree and still have overeaten. And let’s not even talk about the drinking one engages in when one eats out. Booze makes me love you more but love my butt less.
3. Only make (for eating) what you love. If you don’t get to fill up, at least enjoy what you have. So don’t waste precious calories on stupid shit like toast. Or orange juice. Hello, lame.
4. Drink diet pop. And lots of it. Flavour without content. It’s like manna from heaven.
5. Make time for self pity. Because no junk food = earned sadness.
I’m also going to try a new experiment: no prepackaged food. Or rather, no prepared food. Cans of vegetables are totally cool, especially beans which take forever to soak and cook. But I’m trying to eat as naturally as possible, from real ingredients instead of dried or frozen packs. Not only will this help with the dieting, but I’m hoping it will in general prove healthful, and bolster my attempts to stop getting sick any more. The only prepackaged, prepared stuff I’ll use is the aforementioned pop and pickles, plus condiments. We’ll see how it goes.
October 27th, 2007
I got a new cookbook, and I am newly inspired to get all cheffy and try new things. Despite totally changing my eating habits last year when I went veg, I am actually not very adventurous as an eater. I like what I like, and I don’t like to mess with that. For example, for years, I always got a hamburger at any restaurant I was at that served them. It’s like the rest of the menu didn’t exist. And there are other rules: I don’t like sweet with savory, I don’t like anything doughy or dumplingy, I hate a salad with fruit in it.
I am beginning to find this boring.
Today I made some new things, and I am so thrilled! Not necessarily with the recipes – one was gross (a pesto based dip), the other not quite right (a chile, cilantro, garlic, lime and yogurt dip) because it’s supposed to be blended but I don’t have a food processor, but I don’t care – it was great to be trying something new! I am making a new resolution: I am going to try making and eating new foods. New flavours, new methods. Oh baby! One easy way to do this is with soup. If I make a pot of soup, I can have some with lunch every day and have an excuse to make a fresh soup once or twice a week, which will be enjoyable and provides lots of opportunities for experimentation. I love soup – frankly, only dessert can’t be made better by serving it in hot broth. My other plan is to start serving salad every night with dinner so I can experiment with dressings (home made of course) and greens in new combinations.
I also just heard about seitan – it’s a wheat protein product and apparently, it’s a dead ringer for beef. I’m a little suspicious about this because as a new vegetarian, I can tell you that when vegetarians tell you something is “just like beef” or “just like chicken” they are always wrong. It’s not just like beef. It’s just like tofu. Only beef is like beef – the texture and taste just cannot be faked. But my source on this one is an omnivore and a professional chef, and advises that in something like a stew, where the seitan is not naked and plain and vulnerable to the discriminating taste buds of a recent meat eater, it really is quite beef-like. So I think I’ll give this one a try. I will of course report back on the beefiness or non-beefiness of seitan.
And I think I’m finally ready to really give up the bivalves. Husband and I have eaten bivalves (oysters, clams, mussels, scallops) once in a while, though a couple of months ago I began saying I didn’t want them any more. The reasoning behind eating them is pretty simple: there is no evidence of social behaviour or intraspecies affection in bivalves, and they do not have a sophisticated enough nervous system to suggest they experience pain. And, they are all harvested in environmentally sustainable ways. So basically they are meaty vegetables, and no one suffers when you eat them. But I had scallops tonight after a couple months without, and I really did not enjoy them. For starters they were overcooked (I was spoiled by Halifax, where every chef knows how to make a perfectly browned yet tender scallop; no one in Vancouver can do this), but beyond that I just couldn’t get past the meatiness. Rationalize it as you like (or as I did), but I just couldn’t get past feeling like I was eating an animal, and I don’t want to be doing that. It’s a gut level reaction. I know it doesn’t make much sense, but why waste calories on food I am not enjoying? So I think I’m done with bivalves. It’s a shame, because lord knows I have loved me some oysters. Oh, oysters! But now? I don’t think I’d want one. Go figure.
October 26th, 2007
What is it about cooking that I love so much? My list is huge: the earthy smell of paper bag and potatoes; citrus fruit and its spray of fine acid scent when you cut it; the sensualism of kneading, rolling, crushing; creative realization when yes, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts; soft cheese and hard crusts and silky sauces; red and green and yellow; tastes to burn or sweeten, sharpen or mellow.
Food nourishes the body but also the spirit. Eating is so much more than just ingesting – or rather, you’re ingesting more than just food. When food is lovingly prepared, eating is being loved. When it is taken as part of a group, food is community and ceremony. When given to others, food is an expression of connection. Who doesn’t love to be offered home made food at someone else’s house? How many of us remember tarts and squares and other treats as part of holiday offerings made by older relatives to us in childhood? Birthday cakes or Halloween candies; pancakes on lazy weekends, popcorn at the movies?
I love to cook. It relaxes and recharges me. And then I have the singular pleasure of offering what I’ve made, knowing that I am bringing something that smells and tastes and feels good to others. Stew in winter, light summer pastas. Long simmered soups and salty salads. The process is rewarding all on its own. I like to mind how things develop, how ingredients change colour and texture and flavour with the cooking. It’s like enjoying several dishes in rapid succession: sauteed onions and garlic with spices, then pan fried potatoes, then a hash of potatoes and tomatoes, finally a stew-like concoction of the forgoing plus corn and green onions and feta cheese crumbled on top. My recipient only gets the last, but I have enjoyed all four.
Cooking has also become an expression of my ethics. Nothing dies to feed me, no lights are put out. It’s life begetting life – fabulous! It’s also part of how I take care of myself. Sure, I could have Froot Loops for breakfast – or I could throw some yogurt and an orange and a pear into a blender and have, in two minutes, something healthful and delicious. When did it become onerous to give yourself the gift of real food? Don’t believe them when they tell you it takes hours to cook. Simple food nourishes as well as complex, and often has cleaner, fresher taste. Eating well should be a right, and you shouldn’t settle for anything less.
Nourish yourself!
October 24th, 2007
This morning I worked on an assignment until around lunch time, when I decided to head to Pacific Centre for the red curry and rice dish I love at the Thai Express. After a very satisfying lunch, I thought to myself that I was just not ready to come home and do more work, so I wandered into The Bay. And found Christmas Street. Christmas Street is the fifth floor, where all the aisles are hung with massive garlands and the first sight greeting you when you exit the elevator is a six foot tall wooden nutcracker. It’s trees and ornaments as far as the eye can see and the music is all carols.
You might be expecting me to get all snarky about Christmas at this point, but you would be wrong. I love the Christmas season. It’s the best time of the year, a whole month of happiness and warm feelings. When I stumbled upon Christmas Street, I had a totally unbidden rush of happiness – just pure happiness. I actually experienced a totally spontaneous smile. I immediately got on the phone and called Husband, who does not share the Christmas madness, and sounded pretty perplexed as to why I would call him just to say The Bay has ornaments for sale already. But I just had to share that moment with someone, that feeling of anticipation and goodness. It was such a surprise, walking into The Christmas when it isn’t even Halloween.
So I found myself a basket and picked out a bunch of ornaments to buy. Last year our tree was a little smaller than I expected – I had to prop it up on a box in order to get it to chest height, and I am a short woman. This year I plan to buy a new, bigger tree, so of course I’m going to need more ornaments. I was immersed in the Christmas happiness and spent a very pleasant hour fondling and selecting ornaments. (My rules about purchasing ornaments are these: only buy one of any given ornament, and only buy ornaments that make me happy. Christmas is not about matching or style, it is about colour and joy. Those single colour trees are sterile and soulless.)
Anyway, the thing about my first major Christmas awakening of the year is that it is always conflicted. At some point, usually when I’m decorating my tree, I am reminded powerfully of my gramma, and start to cry. She is of course dead, but while she was here, she was like a mother to me. I lived with her when I was very young, and never lived more than five minutes away until university. Gramma was an even bigger Christmas nut than I am – her entire house was full of decorations and ornaments and anything that would hold still was sprayed with fake snow for all of December. She wasn’t a rich woman, but she saved all year to buy presents for her large family and put a massive dinner on the table on the day. Some of my most precious memories of my early years involve her at Christmas, singing carols and baking and doing little craft projects to put up around the house. I guess the Christmas explosion she provided is such a special memory to me because it stands for what was real and vital in our relationship – love. This is an overused phrase, but in this case I believe it is true: my gramma loved me unconditionally, and I have not stopped hurting that she is dead.
So today, there I am, rifling ornaments, when it came to me – thoughts of her and Christmases past, and how it will never really be the same because she can never be here again. I figured I had better not indulge in a cry in public, so of course I didn’t, but it was hard. I am still surprised with the strength of my reaction when I think of her – it hasn’t really gotten much lessened in the years since she died. But it was also a positive experience, because though I miss her, I am also brought back to loving and happy memories. I imagined she would approve of my choices – a collection of clashing but colourful ornaments with a high percentage of sparkly or reflective items.
Anyway, I know it’s too early to put up a tree or anything, but I couldn’t resist getting my old ornaments out of storage and checking them out. So many of them were gifts or came from my childhood or were acquired in some other special way that it’s always a good trip down memory lane. I’m about to get back to work on my assignment but I wanted to blog briefly about this event because it’s got me thinking about appreciating those we love and have at hand. I didn’t spend enough time with my gramma right before she died and I will never forgive myself for that – and the lesson I took away is that there is nothing – nothing – more important in your life than putting time aside to be with your loved ones.
October 21st, 2007
I often have this idea that, because I understand psychological theory, it somehow won’t apply to me.
But of course that’s totally wrong.
October 20th, 2007
I had school today. When I got home, it was to find a message had been left for me from my brother, who is 17, and in the city tonight at an Ozzy Osbourne concert (hard to believe he still fills stadiums, but there you have it – he obviously does). Turns out my brother needed a place to crash tonight – with four of his adolescent friends. So what do you do when a bunch of teenagers want to storm your house after spending all night rocking out and possibly engaging in illicit activities of the intoxicating nature? You hide the liquor, set a no fornicating policy, and make nice beds. Aren’t I a good host?
couchbed:
officebed:
Husband and I were all set to fetch our air mattress from our friend Esan’s place, where it has been living for a couple of years. Come to think of it, we may even have transferred official ownership of the air mattress to Esan at some point – I can’t recall. But anyway we were to have the use of it tonight at least so that we could provide five proper sleeping places for the five stinky teenagers.
But at the last minute the kids got word that my aunt and uncle could drive them back home to the valley, so they’re not coming here after all. I’m actually quite disappointed, and not just because I spent all that time making beds. They’re a great bunch to hang out with and I would have been happy to have them as an excuse for being tired at school tomorrow. But alas, it is not meant to be.
October 19th, 2007
I rarely meme, but what the hell.
Fuck off: by which I mean, “No way!” Risky because it is easily misunderstood.
Indeed!: which stands in for “Good heavens!” or “I totally agree” or “You are totally insane but I’m too polite to argue.” Typically accompanied by a certain gesture, where I hold out the first two fingers of each hand, like pointing, and chop down through the air with them. I totally stole this from a friend who left town. Finders keepers.
Zang!: “Holy cow!” or “That was a good one!”
What would Freud say?: Whenever someone commits a parapraxis, better known as the Freudian slip. Including myself. Recently I said, “I wish I would get better so I could go back to sleep.” I meant go back to school.
Jackass!: My favourite curse word. It just rolls off the tongue so nicely. Especially good while driving.
Ridiculous!: My favourite expression of intellectual disdain. Homeopathic medicine is ridiculous! Sometimes I say “absurd!”
Is it possible that…?: I like to look at all sides of an issue, and it is my personal mission on earth to help everyone else do this too. But I don’t like to be pushy, so I phrase my challenges in this way.
That’s golden!: Used when I am particularly impressed or amused or amazed by something.
October 18th, 2007
One quick note: for those people who comment on this blog and also happen to know me in real life, please keep in mind that Husband does not want to have his profession revealed here, or even hinted at. It’s a matter of maintaining his professional identity and not getting him into any hot water just because his wife has a big mouth sometimes. I ask that you respect his wishes and make no mention of it at all. Thanks guys! 