Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Short-sighted pessimists

The past week, driving around San Francisco, I've seen the same thing a few times and it always makes me smile.

There's no way of knowing for sure that I've seen what I think I've seen, but I'm fairly certain I saw what I think I saw.

We've all seen the bumper sticker declaring the owner's political views by simply saying "1.20.09." Of course, there has also been, in the past 8 years, the more direct version of essentially the same message that said, "Not My President."

Well these stickers are now one week obviously past their prime, especially in this city. While 1.20.09 is still a fine day to remember, the people with the other sticker on their cars are now, pretty much screwed.

In my years of driving, I've seen a lot of super-faded bumper stickers on cars that range from super-faded to pristinely new. I can't think of ever having seen a bumper sticker that looks intentionally scraped off, and certainly can't remember seeing one that was partially scraped off.

Three times this week I've seen the sticky stuff left behind when you pull the top off of a sticker. The only thing I can think is that these people, eager to show their hatred of George Bush, either didn't think they'd ever see a president elected that was "theirs," or they didn't think their car would last long enough to see the day.

Or maybe they just never thought about how hard it is to get a bumper sticker off a bumper. Well, it's hard.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Boozin' classy like

So I've decided to start infusing alcohol with things.

I first attempted this in June when I got my job-as I'd told myself I'd make ginger tequila upon securing employment. I told myself this in January and didn't think I'd linger on the unofficial unemployment list for six months, but I did make the concoction and it was pretty good.

The only problem is, I did a full bottle, so I've still got more than half a bottle left. Variety, being the spice of life, took me away from it pretty quick.


Enter the decanters in the Ross stemware section (where I spend my lunch break sometimes). They have several very cool looking decanters for $5, but they're only 700ml causing me to not buy them and think to myself, "those aren't even big enough for a full bottle, let alone a bottle with ingredients in it."

Then it hit me. I'd been so short-sighted. I should just be doing half bottles anyway, so I can have more variety sitting around.

First up? Vanilla bourbon. And since I'll have a half a bottle left over, I may also make lime bourbon.

And what about cinnamon cocoa brandy? Or melon gin? Melon gin and tonic could get some takers, I bet. Or, since I'll have limes too, lime infused gin.


Lime has a place in every drink, really.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Notes from a small kitchen

So I signed up for a delivery service that, every two weeks, brings me a box of organic vegetables picked from a farm outside of Sacramento. I usually don't know what they're going to bring me until I open the box on Tuesday mornings (at the advice of Narges who told me "it's like Christmas") but after finishing off "The Omnivore's Dilemma" tonight, I needed to go online and see what I'm getting tomorrow (I also expect to have a busy morning at work and thought it best to get my googling of recipes out of the way tonight).

The website lists the vegetables they are going to deliver on the Friday before delivery day, which is Tuesday for the zip code where my office is located. The farm picks whatever's ripe that week, supplements it with stuff from other farms nearby (I've been getting apples and pears from Oregon, but everything else from Capay Valley) and the subscriber has to make something with the ingredients. It's a little like Iron Chef, but not really at all.

Since it's the dead of winter, it's winter produce season. Leeks, red onions, garlic, apples and pears (from Oregon), oranges, potatoes, red leaf lettuce and the like are all (except the fruit and lettuce) the kind of seasonal soup-ingredient-esque stuff I'd expect to find at a farmers' market this time of year.

Part of the goal of getting this delivery is general health. I'd like to live long and healthy, and eating fresh vegetables seems to be a good way to go about that. Also, it's an attempt at supporting local economies and good ideas. But also, it's an adventure. I've made some recipes lately and cooked with ingredients that I had never and probably would never have attempted. My mom doesn't like brussels sprouts, so I'd never eaten one in my life. But, presented with nearly a pound of them, I had to make some lightly seared and salted brussels sprouts as an appetizer one night.

My last two (and honestly, so far the only two until tomorrow morning) shipments also included kale, which has been fun to experiment with. Here's what I'm getting tomorrow (along with onions, garlic and four pounds of fruit):

1

bu

Our Farm

Gold Chard

1

bu

Our Farm

Bunched Collard

1

bu

Our Farm

Nantes Carrot

1

cnt

Our Farm

Lacinato / Dino Kale


I wanted to make roasted kale last time but used it all in a soup (which came after the appetizer mentioned above), so I'm glad I'm getting another shot at it. Carrots are awesome (I may just eat them as snacks) but I'm having an issue with the collard greens (aside from their similarity to chard and kale).

Going back to the health aspect, why does every recipe for this plant call for ham hocks? First off, while I never did before, I realize now that I have a rule against eating food the name of which I associate with loogies. Second... no. I don't want to cook with pig knuckles, or feet, or whatever the ham hock is. It seems weird, and really, wouldn't bacon be better suited anyway? It usually is.

This bunch of collard greens is going to lead us to yet another installment of Tenderloin Fusion, whereby through lack of funds, motivation or a sense of urgency we put inexpensive, lazy, or "really what difference does it make" spins on dishes from around the world. Well, so far mostly Asia, but we were bound to make it to The South eventually. It makes a kind of homonymical sense to go to Soul Food after the last attempt at Seoul Food.