The neighborhood crab fest

14 June 2009

To this 1,000 word essay, may I suggest a theme?

Eating meat is barbaric. In the context of last night's dinner, discuss.

Vegetarian: in retrospect

04 March 2009

Bacon was my downfall.

Of all the foods I have loved and ever will love, there is something irresistible in the crisp and juicy sweet of hot bacon that makes my stomach whisper, "Junior Bacon Cheeseburger! Junior Bacon Cheeseburger!"

Of course, I managed just fine for an entire 10½ months without killing half the barnyard. In reality, I was a genuine vegetarian for nearly a year, with the exception of a few unavoidable and delicious forays into the world of Omnivorous Man. Whatever my reasons may have been for living mainly on rice and tofu (and it is debatable whether I even had any reasons at all), I must say preaching peace, love and respect for the animal kingdom did me good.

For one, I honed my cooking skills, focusing on the more animal-friendly cuisines of the the Mediterranean, Middle East and India. Also Thailand. Coconut milk and green chili paste were my two main staples for a few good months. Rice and curry were my next staples. Curry and my garam masala are still the two spices I reach for first if ever I find a limp and blanched vegetable in need of assistance. (Or rosemary, but that is neither here nor there.) Then I went on a falafel kick and ate flat bread and fried chickpeas every day. Of course, I appreciate the importance of iron in my diet, and the need to replenish my amino acids etc., so I ate a lot of spinach, at least in the beginning. And seaweed, which is also green and makes me feel healthy. I became, in my own right, a bit of a sushi conoseiur-- blanched carrots and avocado with a nice sweet rice vinegar! mmmh!

For another thing, I never wanted for lively conversation. Those who enjoyed arguing found no end of scriptural (or otherwise authoritative) support for a more meaty diet. Those who did not enjoy arguing still found it necessary to express there own thoughts on the subject of nutritional therapy. "Vegetarian? Like what, you eat grass all the time?" My rhetorical skills soon grew as sharp as their wit.

Mostly, being a vegetarian reminded me how much I love meat.

Last night, as I did crunches in front of the tube, a commercial for Arby's New Roastburger came on. I looked at my roommate. She looked at me.
"I'll grab the car keys"
"I'll grab a coat."

mmmmh. Bacon, roast beef and blue cheese on a toasted bun.

It even has vegetables.

I am thankful for the scientific discoveries of pavlov

24 November 2008

I didn't really consider the implications of a vegetarian Thanksgiving until Jacob mentioned cooking up his 20lb turkey. And then I started salivating.

What is thanksgiving without that crispy skin which clings to the sweet, flaky flesh of a basted and stuffed bird? Without gravy or liver? This is moral dilemma to a new extreme.

And, oh! the Friday Sandwiches, with all the leftovers spread and piled between two thick bread slices.

Thanksgiving is flag-football with the Copes and Grandma's orange rolls; it's fold-out tables borrowed from the church and that yam dish my mommy makes. But never has November's 4th Thursday been a real celebration without a dead, plucked and roasted bird.

hmm. Tofurkey?

Travel log iii: sneakers at the ritz

26 July 2008

Yesterday we drove to The City because it was Saturday and beautiful and because Cam promised to show us around his city if ever we came for a visit. Getting out the door, there was some small todo about wardrobe; Auntie Lynne couldn't find her new hat, Becky wouldn't wear her pink dress, but we finally piled into the Merc: Mariah, Becky, Aunt Lynne and me- off for a little touristing, a quick bite to eat and Kate's concert that evening.

I should have payed more attention when Auntie Lynne handed me a black blouse to bring "in case Cam dresses up too. Though I guess you two can go cazh together." But I couldn't imagine Kate's concert was a formal sort of thing and I felt plenty dressed up for that in loose khakis, a cute knit top and my favorite slip on sneakers. I had intended to iron my pants, but I opted to wash my hair instead—what more can you ask for on a lazy July morning?

Cam lives in a neat mid-century modern house overlooking the Pacific. The hills in San Francisco are such that every three block offers some amazing view, but as Cam led us out to his back porch, I gasped at the picture-postcard he wakes up to every morning: The fog had cleared for an unusually clear day and the checkerboard of colorful rooftops spread across the mid-summer green of hills rippling down to the ocean. Church spires marked some cathedral in the distance and wooded hills to the south cradled the scene.

I think I could have snapped a couple pictures there and called it a day, but you can't visit SanFran without a drive through the Presidio, pictures in front of The Bridge, a walk down Pier 39, and a stopandgo drive around China Town. The Golden Gate bridge was breathtakingly beautiful with the flakes of sailboats scattered below and the hazy hills of the continent rising out of the dark bay on the other side. But even that picture seemed ordinary after Cam's backyard view. We did visit a stunning church in the Italian district; just in time to wish some newlyweds goodbye, admire the intricate architecture and slip out before the next bride and groom arrived. But by then it was 4 o'clock and time for tea.

And I finally understood the hat, pink dress and the black blouse. Four o'clock is teatime at the Ritz Carlton, which is, of course, the only place to go if you're out and about in SanFran on a hot Saturday afternoon.

Valet parking, brocade couches and me in my favorite sneakers, sipping peppermint tea—onesugarandcream. Of course I declined the salmon caviar sandwiches for the vegetarian tea of eggplant pesto on rye, and bell-pepper-cream on crackers. And scones with clotted cream, little biscuits and dainty pastries with jam from tiny jars. Naturally, a woman with long wavy hair played the harp in the background—a selection of Disney classics for the table of little girls wearing pretty dresses and swinging their legs. The five of us sat primly and gossiped (about ourselves, who else?) and tried to act posh. Just a few friends up for a day in The City.

And me in my favorite sneakers.

May I suggest something from the vegetarian menu?

07 June 2008

In a saucepan, heat a splash of olive oil over medium heat. Add a few teaspoons garam masala, an onion (sliced thinly) and a cup or two of vegetables (bulb fennel, celery, bok choy, etc.) cut in thin strips. Add salt if you like. Cook, stirring ,until onions caramelize. Mix in a handful of dried cranberries and extra firm tofu, crumbled—I like more, some like less. Remove from heat, add chopped cilantro and some pistachios. One time I added fried rice. Another time zucchini. Also eggplant is an excellent addition. And blueberries sub well for the craisins.

Or there’re family-style burgers at 5:00, with garden-fresh lettuce and three types of cheese. The Wilsons always serve their burgers with a variety of French cheeses.

The trouble with eating in class

26 March 2008

Billy Collins is a lean and tender
T-bone steak, best served rare
with a side salad and something light;
perhaps a sweet Cabernet Franc.

It should not be served with inordinate
amounts of BestWest Steak Sauce,
as if a bottle of that
could sharpen the wit of him.

Principles of Biology has left
a dry aftertaste, and I sit down
salivating for a succulent cut
of the real meat.

Unfortunately, my teacher cooks
experimentally,
and with Sunflower hot-mitts she serves
to us Lecture 29:

Poetry Meatloaf. Which is not
fresh or moist or seasoned right.
But I am hungry. And she doesn’t seem
to have anything else on hand.

Shakespeare in bite-size bits and
Collins ground in with Nash
and something green that doesn’t
seem to belong to anyone

all garnished with slivered Poe
and a slimy ketchup marinara.
It slices neatly and leaves no crumbs
and everyone tucks in quietly.

Except my vegan study partner
who sips her Algebra noisily.
I choke a bit and try
To swallow gallantly.

Meatloaf is barbaric.