2011
Today is the last day of 2011, and so I'm looking back on the year and reflecting on everything has has happened.
This year has been amazing in many ways, though it has also been incredibly difficult.
I started off the year as a probationary deputy defender, still in training and still learning how to do my job. Though I finished my probationary training period in February, this year constantly presented new professional challenges and experiences. I argued my first case in the Court of Appeals. I filed my first Petition for Review in the Oregon Supreme Court. I won my first case. I won my second case! I lost a few, too. I am finally feeling like I have settled into my job and, happily enough, I love the work more and more as I go along.
This was a year of personal accomplishments, too. I ran my second half marathon, and with the help of my running buddy, ran it in under 2 hours. I ran my first marathon, in just shy of 5 hours, and it was a wonderful and harrowing day for me. I ran as a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society, and I ran the race in memory of my Uncle David, who passed away in September from lung cancer.
I spent many many hours on planes in 2011. We went to Mexico in April and had a lovely lovely beach vacation which involved doing absolutely nothing. Later in the summer, I flew home to Colorado for my sister's bridal shower. Then I went to Maryland to visit my uncle. And then, Colorado again, for my sister's wedding, then Wisconsin for my cousin's wedding, and finally, back to Colorado for a high altitude Christmas with my family.
In 2012, I am looking forward to more running adventures, more time with good friends, slightly less travel.
Many thanks to my wonderful friends and family for all your support and encouragement this year; you are the best.
This year has been amazing in many ways, though it has also been incredibly difficult.
I started off the year as a probationary deputy defender, still in training and still learning how to do my job. Though I finished my probationary training period in February, this year constantly presented new professional challenges and experiences. I argued my first case in the Court of Appeals. I filed my first Petition for Review in the Oregon Supreme Court. I won my first case. I won my second case! I lost a few, too. I am finally feeling like I have settled into my job and, happily enough, I love the work more and more as I go along.
This was a year of personal accomplishments, too. I ran my second half marathon, and with the help of my running buddy, ran it in under 2 hours. I ran my first marathon, in just shy of 5 hours, and it was a wonderful and harrowing day for me. I ran as a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society, and I ran the race in memory of my Uncle David, who passed away in September from lung cancer.
I spent many many hours on planes in 2011. We went to Mexico in April and had a lovely lovely beach vacation which involved doing absolutely nothing. Later in the summer, I flew home to Colorado for my sister's bridal shower. Then I went to Maryland to visit my uncle. And then, Colorado again, for my sister's wedding, then Wisconsin for my cousin's wedding, and finally, back to Colorado for a high altitude Christmas with my family.
In 2012, I am looking forward to more running adventures, more time with good friends, slightly less travel.
Many thanks to my wonderful friends and family for all your support and encouragement this year; you are the best.
Challah!
I modified the Smitten Kitchen Recipe here, and this is what I came up with:
Challah Back, Girrrrl!
Nouns-
1 1/2 tbsps instant yeast
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup vegetable oil
5 eggs
1 tsbp salt
8 1/2 cups flour
1 3/4 cups warm water
Verbs-
Combine the water, oil, honey, salt and yeast in your mixer or stir by hand. Add four eggs, one at a time. Add the flour and mix until incorporated. Once the dough comes together, transfer to a floured board and knead until smooth, about ten minutes. Put the dough in a greased bowl covered in saran wrap and let rise in a warm place for one hour or until doubled in volume. Punch down the dough and let rise another 30 minutes. At this point, the dough can be formed into loaves. I did six small loaves, but three large loaves works as well, with a longer baking time. I did simple 3-strand braids, but directions for a fancier 6-strand braid can be found on the Smitten Kitchen page I linked to above. Here are directions for basic braid loaves: divide your dough into equal sized sections for as many loaves as you want to bake. Take one of those sections and cut it in thirds. Roll each third into a long rope on your cutting board. Join the top end of all three ropes and braid them, pinching the ends together at the end of the loaf. Repeat with each section of dough.
Place the loaves on a baking sheet covered in parchment paper and let rise for one hour. Preheat the oven to 375. When loaves have risen for an hour, whisk the remaining egg in a bowl and spread it over the surface of the loaves so they'll be nice and shiny. Bake for 30 minutes for large loaves, or 15-20 minutes for the small ones, rotating the baking sheets halfway through.
Challah Back, Girrrrl!
Nouns-
1 1/2 tbsps instant yeast
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup vegetable oil
5 eggs
1 tsbp salt
8 1/2 cups flour
1 3/4 cups warm water
Verbs-
Combine the water, oil, honey, salt and yeast in your mixer or stir by hand. Add four eggs, one at a time. Add the flour and mix until incorporated. Once the dough comes together, transfer to a floured board and knead until smooth, about ten minutes. Put the dough in a greased bowl covered in saran wrap and let rise in a warm place for one hour or until doubled in volume. Punch down the dough and let rise another 30 minutes. At this point, the dough can be formed into loaves. I did six small loaves, but three large loaves works as well, with a longer baking time. I did simple 3-strand braids, but directions for a fancier 6-strand braid can be found on the Smitten Kitchen page I linked to above. Here are directions for basic braid loaves: divide your dough into equal sized sections for as many loaves as you want to bake. Take one of those sections and cut it in thirds. Roll each third into a long rope on your cutting board. Join the top end of all three ropes and braid them, pinching the ends together at the end of the loaf. Repeat with each section of dough.
Place the loaves on a baking sheet covered in parchment paper and let rise for one hour. Preheat the oven to 375. When loaves have risen for an hour, whisk the remaining egg in a bowl and spread it over the surface of the loaves so they'll be nice and shiny. Bake for 30 minutes for large loaves, or 15-20 minutes for the small ones, rotating the baking sheets halfway through.
Meal Plan
Here's the week:
Schnitzel and Spaetzle
Husband Soup
Falafel
Chicken Salad
Lemony Spaghetti
Schnitzel and Spaetzle
Husband Soup
Falafel
Chicken Salad
Lemony Spaghetti
Something to do with leftover cranberry sauce
This is not a full recipe, just a nubbin:
If you have leftover cranberry sauce, I instruct you to do the following: acquire turkey burgers, buns and chevre. Schmear some chevre and some cranberry sauce on the toasted buns, and stack a turkey burger with maybe some red onions and lettuce on there, and eat. This is the most profoundly delicious creation ever. I might like them even better than the apples and brie turkey burgers I usually make. El fin.
Turkey
This is how I make my holiday turkey. It is a method I borrowed in part from my Uncle George and in part from Alton Brown. It seems odd, but trust me, it works. Once again I didn't get photos of the process, so you'll just have to trust me.
Holiday Turkey and Gravy
Nouns-
1 Turkey, preferably free range young hen, 1-2 lbs per person
For the Brine--
1.25 cups kosher salt
1 gallon apple cider
1/4 cup allspice berries
10 bay leaves
10 sprigs thyme
1/4 cup brown sugar
Ginger, fresh or candied
1/4 cup peppercorns
1 bag party ice
1 gallon water
For the Roasting-
1 stick butter
5 cloves garlic, peeled and partially crushed
3 sprigs rosemary
8 sprigs thyme
2 apples, sliced
2 onions, quartered
kosher salt
pepper
1 large paper bag, with nothing printed on it
olive oil
1 stapler
kitchen string
1 meat thermometer (it really is worth the $15 at Target to get the remote thermometer that you leave in the bird connected to the readout on the stovetop by a wire and beeps when you reach the temperature you have set... it is the bestest thing ever.
For the Gravy-
2-3 cups chicken broth
1 onion, quartered
Thyme and Garlic, optional
3 tbsp butter
3 tbsp flour
Verbs-
18 hours before you plan to roast your bird, get it ready to brine. Remove the neck, giblets and other unmentionables from the cavities and reserve them. DO NOT WASTE THEM, even if you think they are gross. You are right. They are. But, magic can be made from them. Rinse the bird. Thoroughly wash a cooler or other large waterproof receptacle. Fill it with the ice and water. On the stovetop, heat the cider and all remaining brine ingredients until bubbly and fragrant and all the salt is dissolved. Cool the liquid to room temperature and add to the cooler. Add the bird and additional ice or water if needed. Brine for 12-18 hours.
While you're brining, make some delicious turkey stock. Take the neck and other unmentionables and saute them in a saucepot in butter until brown. Then add the onion, thyme and garlic to the pot, and pour the chicken stock over the top. Simmer for at least an hour, preferably several. Strain and reserve the resulting liquid. NOW you may discard the yucky turkey bits.
When it is time to roast, preheat oven to 325 and remove the bird from the brine. Rinse and pat dry. In the microwave on low, heat the butter, a clove of garlic, a sprig of thyme and a sprig of rosemary until melted and fragrant. Position the bird on your roasting rack and loosely fill the cavity with the apples, onions, and remaining herbs and garlic. Loosely tie the legs together over the cavity and fold the wing tips under the body of the bird to prevent overcooking. Then, brush the melted butter over the entire bird. Once the turkey is coated with herb butter, liberally sprinkle with kosher salt. Here's where it gets weird: thoroughly oil the paper bag and put the turkey, roasting rack and all, inside the bag. Fold the ends of the bag over and staple shut. If you have a remote thermometer, position it deep in the breast with the cord coming out of the bag and staple the bag closed around the wire. Roast at 325 until the thermometer reads 165. Then, cut away the paper bag, making sure that the drippings go into the roasting pan or other container and are not wasted.
Set the turkey and roasting rack on a large cookie sheet or sheet pan to rest.
One the stovetop, you're ready to make gravy. Combine the butter and flour and saute until bubbly and golden brown. Pour in the turkey stock and whisk over medium heat until thickened. Pour in the drippings and whisk until combined. Season with salt and pepper if necessary. This is the best gravy ever.
Once your bird has rested, it is ready to carve and serve. (I then make more turkey stock out of the bones and use it for delicious soup, but that's another post.)
Happy Holidays!
Gratuitous cat photos
I am really enjoying taking pictures with my new iPhone. Here are a few of my cats and also my husband. Some of them have filters make it look like it's the 1970s. This is appropriate because my husband has a truly heinous mustache right now for Movember. I can't wait until the month is over and he shaves it. Until then, party like it's 1977.
Cranberry Sauce Public Service Announcement
Dear Readers-
I implore you to forego the canned cranberry stuff this holiday season and make your own cranberry sauce. Even if you are not a cook and don't normally go the "from scratch" route for your holiday meals, and even if you don't even like the canned cranberry stuff and were planning on skipping the red goo this year, give this a shot. You'll thank me. Cranberry sauce is literally the easiest thing to make on my whole holiday table, and it turns the meal bright and fancy, dresses up the sandwiches you'll make from leftover turkey, and generally makes life good.
I'm providing two recipes here, the basic stovetop cranberry sauce, which is basically what the canned stuff is trying to be, and my mom's cranberry relish, which is a simple raw relish that is probably the best turkey sandwich condiment ever invented. Fo' reals.
Cranberry Sauce: It really is this easy!
Nouns-
1 bag fresh cranberries, rinsed
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
Verbs-
Cranberry Relish
Nouns-
1 bag cranberries
1 cup walnuts
1 whole orange, seeded
1 cup sugar
Verbs-
Chop all ingredients in the food processor for several minutes until the consistency of pickle relish. Eat.
I implore you to forego the canned cranberry stuff this holiday season and make your own cranberry sauce. Even if you are not a cook and don't normally go the "from scratch" route for your holiday meals, and even if you don't even like the canned cranberry stuff and were planning on skipping the red goo this year, give this a shot. You'll thank me. Cranberry sauce is literally the easiest thing to make on my whole holiday table, and it turns the meal bright and fancy, dresses up the sandwiches you'll make from leftover turkey, and generally makes life good.
I'm providing two recipes here, the basic stovetop cranberry sauce, which is basically what the canned stuff is trying to be, and my mom's cranberry relish, which is a simple raw relish that is probably the best turkey sandwich condiment ever invented. Fo' reals.
Cranberry Sauce: It really is this easy!
Nouns-
1 bag fresh cranberries, rinsed
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
Verbs-
Put the nouns in a saucepan, maybe even stir them if you feel fancy. Bring to a boil and simmer until the berries pop. Remove from heat, cool and eat.
Cranberry Relish
Nouns-
1 bag cranberries
1 cup walnuts
1 whole orange, seeded
1 cup sugar
Verbs-
Chop all ingredients in the food processor for several minutes until the consistency of pickle relish. Eat.
Pre-Thanksgiving prep
The cheesecake is in the oven, the cranberries are popping in their saucepan, and turkey stock is simmering on the back burner. The turkey is soaking in brine and the house smells like heaven. Can't wait for friends and family to arrive tomorrow.
Best Mac and Cheese
I tried a new Mac and Cheese recipe today, which was risky because we had company for dinner and I generally don't like to experiment on guests in the kitchen (that is what my secret basement lab is for). But, this recipe sounded easy and got rave reviews, so I went for it.
Um, wowza.
This is a totally different thing from the other mac and cheese recipes I've made. Those all basically involve cooking and draining pasta, then making the sauce from a roux, milk and shredded cheese, then combining the pasta and sauce and baking. This is a one-pot, no draining concoction that is as creamy as any restaurant mac and cheese I've ever had. It's so thick and rich that a small helping feels like a decadent feast. It is, in a nutshell, my new mac and cheese.
The full recipe I used for inspiration is here: http://whiteonricecouple.com/recipes/cheese/stove-top-one-pot-macaroni-cheese-recipe/
However, as usual, I made some changes.
My version is as follows.
Alice's Magical One-pot Cheesy Noodles of Joy
Nouns-
4 cups milk (I used 1%)
1 lb pasta (I used orecchiette, and they stuck together a bit. Macaroni or cavatappi would probably be awesome)
2 cups shredded cheese or more if you feel like it (I used half gruyere, half sharp white cheddar)
6 slices turkey bacon, chopped
2 good-sized crowns of broccoli, cut into florets
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp dry mustard
1/4 tsp paprika
Optional-
1/3 cup panko breadcrumbs
1 tsp butter
Verbs-
In a medium to large pan, brown the bacon, then remove the bacon and reserve it. Steam the broccoli florets in the microwave and reserve those. Then, in the saucepan on the stove, combine the noodles, spices and milk. (I know! Weird! Trust me. I was distracted by a cute baby and didn't take photos of this on the stovetop, but take my word for it, this is a thing that works. Fo' reals) Bring the milk up to a gentle simmer over medium heat, stirring to separate the pasta. Gently (gently!) simmer the milk and pasta over medium low heat for about 15 minutes, stirring to be sure that milk doesn't scald on the bottom, the noodles don't stick together, and nothing curdles or boils. The mixture will thicken on its own and take on a creamy consistency. If it gets too thick, add a little more milk. When the pasta is tender, turn to low heat and stir in the cheese, bacon and broccoli, stirring to combine. Remove from heat. If you want, in another pan, gently fry the panko in the butter until brown and fragrant. Sprinkle over the top of the mac and cheese. Eat. Marvel.
Um, wowza.
This is a totally different thing from the other mac and cheese recipes I've made. Those all basically involve cooking and draining pasta, then making the sauce from a roux, milk and shredded cheese, then combining the pasta and sauce and baking. This is a one-pot, no draining concoction that is as creamy as any restaurant mac and cheese I've ever had. It's so thick and rich that a small helping feels like a decadent feast. It is, in a nutshell, my new mac and cheese.
The full recipe I used for inspiration is here: http://whiteonricecouple.com/recipes/cheese/stove-top-one-pot-macaroni-cheese-recipe/
However, as usual, I made some changes.
My version is as follows.
Alice's Magical One-pot Cheesy Noodles of Joy
Nouns-
4 cups milk (I used 1%)
1 lb pasta (I used orecchiette, and they stuck together a bit. Macaroni or cavatappi would probably be awesome)
2 cups shredded cheese or more if you feel like it (I used half gruyere, half sharp white cheddar)
6 slices turkey bacon, chopped
2 good-sized crowns of broccoli, cut into florets
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp dry mustard
1/4 tsp paprika
Optional-
1/3 cup panko breadcrumbs
1 tsp butter
Verbs-
In a medium to large pan, brown the bacon, then remove the bacon and reserve it. Steam the broccoli florets in the microwave and reserve those. Then, in the saucepan on the stove, combine the noodles, spices and milk. (I know! Weird! Trust me. I was distracted by a cute baby and didn't take photos of this on the stovetop, but take my word for it, this is a thing that works. Fo' reals) Bring the milk up to a gentle simmer over medium heat, stirring to separate the pasta. Gently (gently!) simmer the milk and pasta over medium low heat for about 15 minutes, stirring to be sure that milk doesn't scald on the bottom, the noodles don't stick together, and nothing curdles or boils. The mixture will thicken on its own and take on a creamy consistency. If it gets too thick, add a little more milk. When the pasta is tender, turn to low heat and stir in the cheese, bacon and broccoli, stirring to combine. Remove from heat. If you want, in another pan, gently fry the panko in the butter until brown and fragrant. Sprinkle over the top of the mac and cheese. Eat. Marvel.
Sorting... a snippet post
I realized when I was on Pinterest today (which is like saying "I realized as I was breathing today"... because I cannot stop pinning) that like a few other nerdy pinners, I often silently "sort" people I know into their appropriate Hogwarts houses. That internal game is pretty boring at work... we are all nearly all Ravenclaws with the occasional Slytherin or Hufflepuff thrown in. I also wonder if sometimes other people are silently sorting me. Probably not.
I am a dork.
I am a dork.
Giving Thanks
This year, we'll be hosting a small group of friends and family at home, and I am sharing cooking duties with my friend Laura, (lucky us, she makes amazing pumpkin pie!) so as to make everything easier. I am responsible for the turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce and a vegetable. The veggie was going to be green beans, but on The Husband's request, has been converted to sweet corn pudding. I will also be making a cheesecake as that is traditional for The Husband and his sister. Laura is bringing mashed potatoes, a sweet potato thing that sounds amazing, the aforementioned pumpkin pie, and corn muffins. Yummm! We'll also have a crab plate, which is a traditional thing for The Husband's family, for folks to munch on in the hours before dinner as they watch football or assist the cook or whatever they are doing.
I will do my Uncle George's patented paper bag turkey cooking method, my own bread-based celery, shallot, apple, pecan and thyme stuffing, both cranberry sauce and cranberry relish, and the cheesy corn pudding bake that evokes my grandmother's homemade midwestern creamed corn. I'll make gravy from the drippings as well. So looking forward to it!
I will do my Uncle George's patented paper bag turkey cooking method, my own bread-based celery, shallot, apple, pecan and thyme stuffing, both cranberry sauce and cranberry relish, and the cheesy corn pudding bake that evokes my grandmother's homemade midwestern creamed corn. I'll make gravy from the drippings as well. So looking forward to it!
Vignettes
Badge of Honor
I am not a naturally graceful or coordinated person, though I have, at times, been athletic. I was captain of my high school swim team and I ran a marathon last month, so I'm not the stereotypical sport-phobic nerd girl, but neither am I capable of maneuvering around my world without consistently bashing into things. This afternoon, I walked smack into my coffee table and banged my knee. I was instantly transformed from functional adult to mewling child, writhing on the floor wishing I could somehow detach my knee, with its throbby bruise, from the rest of me. Ow. I limped around for an hour or two whining, and just now rolled up my pant leg to check the status of my horrible, dignity-destroying injury.
NOTHING.
It is incredibly frustrating when there is no physical mark to show you are not a crazy person when you hurt yourself. I guess it's nice not to have a big purple bruise on my leg, but I want something to show that I earned my whining.
Prickly and Sticky
Today we went car shopping, and it was awful. We drove out to Beaverton and ended up in the Budget Corral of one of the dealers there, a used lot that they keep safely separate from their main lot so that the cars don't infect their more expensive brethren with their crapitude. The car we came to see was buried four rows into the impenetrable bumper-to-bumper lot, so even though we'd called ahead, we had to wait for about 20 minutes while junkers were driven, pushed and dragged out of the way. During that time, we avoided billowing clouds of exhaust and admired the impressive and creepy piles of cacti in the dealership office. The little storefront was filled floor to ceiling with shelves and shelves of cacti, and they had spilled out so that the cars parked nearest the door had pots of cacti on their hoods and roofs. Cacti everywhere. Finally, we got to the test-drive, and discovered that the steering wheel cover, a cheap plastic thing, had started to... degenerate? Melt? secrete mucus? I don't know what was going on, but it was sticky all over. Poor Spencer had to put his hands on it to drive. The car was... awful. The brakes made sketchy noises and the steering required massive amounts of upper body strength. We returned it to the dealership. Before we left, Spencer said "Wow, that's a lot of cacti." "Yes, I'm weird." said Errol, our used car salesman.
I'm inclined to agree.
Why are you all wet...? Oh.
Today I gave the cats their flea and tick treatment, that horrible stuff that goes on in a glob on that spot on their backs that they are not supposed to be able to reach (which they totally can, I swear, the non-reachable spot is a myth). I globbed Moby, and then I tried to glob Mezzie. Mezzie, however, proved somewhat difficult. At first, I thought I could handle it because she was curled up in a round ball of fluffy fatness purring sleepily, and so I squeezed the tube over the spot with no particular urgency. Mistake. Mezzie smelled it and felt the wetness and took off in a physics-defying sprint. Her voluminous... volume... and her sudden escape resulted in the stuff going nowhere near where it should have. What I thought was the middle of her back was really a roll of fat that had sagged into that location while she was sleeping, and that is where I had deposited the largest glob, which was trailed by a comet tail of failed medicine application marking where I'd tried to keep going as she ran for cover. This happens every damn time, and so I don't know what makes me think I can actually do this properly.
Worse, though, is that all day I've been snuggling up with Moby, only to feel the tacky patch of smelly goo on his back and spend five seconds thinking "yuck! What is this? It's all over me... oh. Crap. Remember not to pet Moby until his medicine is all absorbed. Right." Then I wash my hands, move on to another task for a few minutes and then see Moby and go snuggle his sweet little face because he is so cute and... oh. Damn.
Reflections
This post is just a few disjointed vignettes, things that came to mind today that I thought I'd share.
Hot Milk Sponge Cake
For me, some foods are profoundly evocative of a particular memory or person. One of the strongest associations I have is with Hot Milk Sponge Cake, which instantly transports me to my friend Candice's high school bedroom, where I can hear my friend Miriam's laugh and feel the slight stickiness of powdered sugar on my fingers. I was thinking about making it soon, in part because I miss Miriam so much. I can see in my mind's eye about half a dozen times when I ate this cake with Miriam, and I feel closer to her just by reading through the recipe.
If it ain't broke...
My parents both have a habit of sticking it out with their possessions sometimes long long after they should be replaced. My mom is naturally frugal and takes great pride in making do with less and stretching the useful lives of things, and my dad is... um, somewhat disengaged from the world at times. I used to find this trait somewhat ridiculous in my parents, and they sometimes find it ridiculous in each other. I remember feeling profound relief when my parents finally replaced our dishwasher when I was in high school, about a year after the door of the thing started falling off on a semi-regular basis. Today at breakfast at a friend's house we were discussing how much we come to resemble our parents as we get older, and very topically, this evening the Husband exasperatedly asked me "how can you stand that computer?!? I would find that so infuriating!" And I was forced to admit that having a laptop that won't stay connected to the internet for more than 30 seconds in a row, that constantly shifts between battery power and charging because the cord and connector are all hinky, and that occasionally goes all purple and refuses to work is maybe... um... not necessary. I could get a new one really any time, and it's not necessary to wait for this one to be permanently purple and hinky before I call it quits. And, I promise, if the door to the dishwasher falls off, we'll get a new one within 6 months.
Apple Butter
Apple butter is delicious and useful. I love it on ice cream, on sandwiches, on toast. I will be making roast turkey, apple butter and brie sandwiches soon. Yumm.
Dr. Who is Awesome
By rights, it shouldn't be. There is no reason why such a campy, ridiculous, far-fetched concatenation of nonsense should be so emotionally compelling, so funny, and so addictive. After David Tennant left, I was convinced that I would not love the show as much anymore, because he had to be the thing that made it so...so... whatever it is. But no, 2 minutes into the first Matt Smith episode I was squeeing and clapping and generally enthusing and obsessing about it. And now, of course, I adore Matt Smith. ADORE. This makes no sense. I cannot explain it. But it is.
Hot Milk Sponge Cake
For me, some foods are profoundly evocative of a particular memory or person. One of the strongest associations I have is with Hot Milk Sponge Cake, which instantly transports me to my friend Candice's high school bedroom, where I can hear my friend Miriam's laugh and feel the slight stickiness of powdered sugar on my fingers. I was thinking about making it soon, in part because I miss Miriam so much. I can see in my mind's eye about half a dozen times when I ate this cake with Miriam, and I feel closer to her just by reading through the recipe.
If it ain't broke...
My parents both have a habit of sticking it out with their possessions sometimes long long after they should be replaced. My mom is naturally frugal and takes great pride in making do with less and stretching the useful lives of things, and my dad is... um, somewhat disengaged from the world at times. I used to find this trait somewhat ridiculous in my parents, and they sometimes find it ridiculous in each other. I remember feeling profound relief when my parents finally replaced our dishwasher when I was in high school, about a year after the door of the thing started falling off on a semi-regular basis. Today at breakfast at a friend's house we were discussing how much we come to resemble our parents as we get older, and very topically, this evening the Husband exasperatedly asked me "how can you stand that computer?!? I would find that so infuriating!" And I was forced to admit that having a laptop that won't stay connected to the internet for more than 30 seconds in a row, that constantly shifts between battery power and charging because the cord and connector are all hinky, and that occasionally goes all purple and refuses to work is maybe... um... not necessary. I could get a new one really any time, and it's not necessary to wait for this one to be permanently purple and hinky before I call it quits. And, I promise, if the door to the dishwasher falls off, we'll get a new one within 6 months.
Apple Butter
Apple butter is delicious and useful. I love it on ice cream, on sandwiches, on toast. I will be making roast turkey, apple butter and brie sandwiches soon. Yumm.
Dr. Who is Awesome
By rights, it shouldn't be. There is no reason why such a campy, ridiculous, far-fetched concatenation of nonsense should be so emotionally compelling, so funny, and so addictive. After David Tennant left, I was convinced that I would not love the show as much anymore, because he had to be the thing that made it so...so... whatever it is. But no, 2 minutes into the first Matt Smith episode I was squeeing and clapping and generally enthusing and obsessing about it. And now, of course, I adore Matt Smith. ADORE. This makes no sense. I cannot explain it. But it is.
Meal Plan
This week's plan:
Blue Corn Nachos with Shredded Chicken and Black Beans
Turkey Meatballs, mashed potatoes and gravy
Vegetable Soup
Mac and Cheese with Broccoli
Tuna Melts
Blue Corn Nachos with Shredded Chicken and Black Beans
Turkey Meatballs, mashed potatoes and gravy
Vegetable Soup
Mac and Cheese with Broccoli
Tuna Melts
Weekend update
On Friday night, I went to see David Sedaris give a reading. That man is one of the funniest and most insane humans in existence. He's also profoundly insightful and can be kind of disturbing as a result. His accounts of living in France and trying to communicate in French as he was learning it are a must-read for anyone who has ever tried to live abroad. The reading was so funny I was howling and stamping my foot and gasping for air.
Afterward, rather than contend with the ridiculous number of people trying to get into and out of the parking garage near the theater, we walked to a fancy restaurant for dessert and drinks--- I had a totally fantastic dark chocolate pot de creme with fleur de sel, and a drink that was autumn in a glass: pear brandy, champagne, orange curacao and honey water. Yummmm. It was very fancy and a nice departure from our usual suburban dates.
And it was a total departure from the rest of the weekend, which we spent slightly soggy and chilly out in the woods. Winter camping is pretty darn fun, I have to say. I have to admit, I was skeptical. But I am happy to report that it didn't rain very hard except while we were sleeping, and I wasn't too cold most of the time. The leaves were beautiful colors and it was a gorgeous time to be outside. We had a roaring fire going and we huddled around it for hours, staring at the coals and warming our feet. We ate grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch, with woodsmoke and fall air as the only spice. Then we wrapped chicken and veggies in foil packets and roasted them in the coals for dinner. Yummy. I stayed up late late reading a book with a flashlight in the tent, just like I used to when I was a kid. I finished my book and slept like a rock, then got up this morning to find my husband making tea and breakfast over the camp stove.
Ahhhh.
It's good to be home and warm and clean and dry, but I'm glad we went.
Afterward, rather than contend with the ridiculous number of people trying to get into and out of the parking garage near the theater, we walked to a fancy restaurant for dessert and drinks--- I had a totally fantastic dark chocolate pot de creme with fleur de sel, and a drink that was autumn in a glass: pear brandy, champagne, orange curacao and honey water. Yummmm. It was very fancy and a nice departure from our usual suburban dates.
And it was a total departure from the rest of the weekend, which we spent slightly soggy and chilly out in the woods. Winter camping is pretty darn fun, I have to say. I have to admit, I was skeptical. But I am happy to report that it didn't rain very hard except while we were sleeping, and I wasn't too cold most of the time. The leaves were beautiful colors and it was a gorgeous time to be outside. We had a roaring fire going and we huddled around it for hours, staring at the coals and warming our feet. We ate grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch, with woodsmoke and fall air as the only spice. Then we wrapped chicken and veggies in foil packets and roasted them in the coals for dinner. Yummy. I stayed up late late reading a book with a flashlight in the tent, just like I used to when I was a kid. I finished my book and slept like a rock, then got up this morning to find my husband making tea and breakfast over the camp stove.
Ahhhh.
It's good to be home and warm and clean and dry, but I'm glad we went.
Design
In the last week or so I have become obsessed with Pinterest, and I have spent oodles of time collecting my favorite things from the internet--geekery, kitten photos, fashion, inspiration, memes, food--and pinning them to my virtual pinboard. It is a very very simple and quick creative outlet, a way to assemble the things that are, for whatever reason, you, and appreciate them, show them off or keep them for future reference. I found right away that my pinterest interests were not necessarily what I expected they'd be. People who know me probable assume that I have a pinboard full of books, but actually, I don't. I have plenty of books in my house, in my life, in my purse...everywhere. What I found was that I was really having fun collecting fashion and pretty things for the house. I have never thought of myself as a fashionable or stylish person, in part because I never bothered much to be very put-together, but I do have a style and I think that I should spend more time expressing it.
Together with that revelation was the realization that there are lots of projects I'd like to do that i have been putting off for years, things that would make my house more comfortable or liveable or just more designed. I spent a fair amount of time and energy arranging things when we moved in, but once we'd been here for a few months I just ... stopped. And the upstairs never really got done. The spare room is a crazy dysfunctional hodgepodge of mismatched furniture and piles of stuff, and the bedroom is only a little bit better. I am going to try to harness this newfound creativity and do some crafty projects, some rearranging and some refinishing. I need to stop thinking of our home as a temporary place that doesn't have to work very well. We live here, after all.
Together with that revelation was the realization that there are lots of projects I'd like to do that i have been putting off for years, things that would make my house more comfortable or liveable or just more designed. I spent a fair amount of time and energy arranging things when we moved in, but once we'd been here for a few months I just ... stopped. And the upstairs never really got done. The spare room is a crazy dysfunctional hodgepodge of mismatched furniture and piles of stuff, and the bedroom is only a little bit better. I am going to try to harness this newfound creativity and do some crafty projects, some rearranging and some refinishing. I need to stop thinking of our home as a temporary place that doesn't have to work very well. We live here, after all.
Fancy Apple Custard Tart
I got it into my head last night to bake, and so bake I did. I made an apple custard tart based on this recipe, but I modified it to be prettier. I followed the recipe for the crust and the custard, but instead of slicing the apples and pre-cooking them, like the recipe recommends, I peeled them, carefully sliced them into long, very thin strips, and then curled the strips into rose shapes. I assembled the raw "roses" in the tart shell, poured the custard over the top, and the sprinkled powdered sugar and cinnamon over the whole thing. I baked it for about 25 minutes, and the apples got plenty cooked that way. Here's the step-by-step of the apple part:
First I peeled the apples and then used a peeler and a cheese slicer to cut long thin strips off the peeled fruit. Then I fashioned the roses by taking a strip of apple and curling it around itself, adding more strips around the edge of the roll like petals.
Then I arranged each apple rose into the tart shell, starting around the edge so that the edge of the tart shell held the end edge of the rose "closed" so it wouldn't pop open and fall apart. Then I added more roses so they were each holding each other up.
Then I filled in the middle of the tart with more roses until they were all firmly, but not too tightly, wedged in. Then I poured the custard over the whole thing, up to about a quarter inch from the edge of the tart shell. Then I sprinkled powdered sugar and cinnamon over the top.
After baking, the apples were gorgeous and caramelized, so I didn't add any more glaze, but you could lightly brush a simple glaze on if you wanted.
I do not understand
Today I had to call someone for work. It was a call I wasn't excited about and bound to be somewhat annoying in content, but it was my job, so hey, I did it. I called the person, and it turns out this person has set their phone so that when you call them, instead of hearing the traditional ringing noise, you hear a minute and a half of the most god-awful pop song in the history of the world. I cannot adequately describe the feelings of despair and sadness that came over me, or the sense of loss I felt for the previously unappreciated traditional ringing noise. Oh, ringing noise, how did I ever take you for granted? I love you, ringing noise! I was trying to describe the song to my coworkers who did not fully appreciate my despair, and words were inadequate. I turned to Google for assistance, and lo:
I believe it was this one--
I believe it was this one--
Why? Why, cruel universe? Why?
Running, and why I haven't been doing it
After the marathon, I had every intention of doing a long run each weekend after a short recovery period. I wanted to keep up the level of fitness I have and keep my mileage up for my physical and mental health. But I didn't. I let almost two weeks go by before running at all, and I've only run once since the marathon. (IN my defense, I tried to run today, but there were no free treadmills at the gym, so I did a long workout on the elliptical.) I think there are a couple of reasons why I have been slacking.
First, I ran a freakin' marathon, so I get to be lazy for a week or two. Duh. Second, I needed a mental break. The marathon was physically exhausting, yes, but my body was recovered within a few days. What it took me longer to recover from was the mental side. The race meant a lot to me, as a tribute to my uncle who passed away, as a personal triumph over injury and setbacks, and as a symbol of the importance of testing yourself, making yourself do the hard things, and just flat out refusing to give up. I have had a lot going on in my personal and professional lives recently, and the race was a microcosm of everything that has been going on in my head: 5 hours of thinking, of feeling real physical and emotional pain, five hours of perseverance and difficulty and fear, five hours of meditation and determination. And I apparently needed a while to process all that and find equilibrium again.
I also just happen to be an incredibly externally motivated person. I will do just about anything for a gold star, for an A+, or for a blue ribbon, but I can't get out of bed to run two miles just because I know that I need to. So I need to sign up for another race, probably a half marathon, so that I have some reason to keep training this winter. I am fine if I have a concrete goal or a buddy who is counting on me, but my running buddies are all swamped with other things right now, and so I need to find some other way. I am also hoping to start a more regimented strength training program, because I can't seem to make myself do push-ups just because it would be nice to be strong, but if someone I've never met yells at me on my TV screen in an exercise video, I will do all the damn pushups in the world. I am crazy.
Anyway, I haven't been running much, but I already feel flabby and tired and useless and double extra neurotic, so I am taking steps to ensure that I run more for the wellbeing of myself and others.
First, I ran a freakin' marathon, so I get to be lazy for a week or two. Duh. Second, I needed a mental break. The marathon was physically exhausting, yes, but my body was recovered within a few days. What it took me longer to recover from was the mental side. The race meant a lot to me, as a tribute to my uncle who passed away, as a personal triumph over injury and setbacks, and as a symbol of the importance of testing yourself, making yourself do the hard things, and just flat out refusing to give up. I have had a lot going on in my personal and professional lives recently, and the race was a microcosm of everything that has been going on in my head: 5 hours of thinking, of feeling real physical and emotional pain, five hours of perseverance and difficulty and fear, five hours of meditation and determination. And I apparently needed a while to process all that and find equilibrium again.
I also just happen to be an incredibly externally motivated person. I will do just about anything for a gold star, for an A+, or for a blue ribbon, but I can't get out of bed to run two miles just because I know that I need to. So I need to sign up for another race, probably a half marathon, so that I have some reason to keep training this winter. I am fine if I have a concrete goal or a buddy who is counting on me, but my running buddies are all swamped with other things right now, and so I need to find some other way. I am also hoping to start a more regimented strength training program, because I can't seem to make myself do push-ups just because it would be nice to be strong, but if someone I've never met yells at me on my TV screen in an exercise video, I will do all the damn pushups in the world. I am crazy.
Anyway, I haven't been running much, but I already feel flabby and tired and useless and double extra neurotic, so I am taking steps to ensure that I run more for the wellbeing of myself and others.
Second Annual Apple Picking
I had a fantastic day picking apples and gawking at beautiful scenery and gorgeous fall foliage today, followed by a fun housewarming party for some friends who now live in a ridiculously awesome neighborhood in SE Portland.
I will spend most of tomorrow making things out of apples. Behold:
I will spend most of tomorrow making things out of apples. Behold:
Marathon!
I ran a marathon today.
I am incredibly proud of that accomplishment and of all the work that went into it. I am also proud of the money raised for ACS and the tribute to my uncle. But I know now more than ever that I could not have done it on my own, and that I owe a debt of gratitude to a number of people.
First, my husband, who put up with all the training runs, encouraged me and supported me through injury and discouragement, and rearranged his life to accommodate this hobby of mine. Second, Jared, who ran the last six miles with me, who kept me moving when I lost my will and let the pain take over too much of my mind, who read me ridiculously bad puns to make me laugh and pushed the pace little by little to get out of me what I didn't know I had to give. I am also indebted to Kali, who filled my office with good luck balloons, Betsy, who sent cookies and love, Jed, who made me a totally awesome and ridiculous running playlist, Marc, Ryan and Erica, who offered training advice and encouragement, my parents and sister, and all the absolutely wonderful people who contributed to my fundraiser. You are all amazing. Thank you so so so much.
The race itself went okay. The weather was atrocious and much worse than the forecast, so I was underdressed for the cold and the wet. My poor legs were freezing for most of it. I ran the first 9 miles or so on pace and felt good, but my injury flared up a bit in mile nine and got pretty bad through mile 11, and I honestly wasn't sure I could keep going. I was counting down miles until I could get to the aid station where my husband was waiting, and focusing exclusively on just getting there, not even thinking about the rest of the race. I was crying a little with the pain and discouragement, and I ran right into The Husband for a huge hug. I hugged him hugged him and then turned and kept running, reinvigorated by the love and support, and determined to get to the finish line somehow.
I was hurting for another few miles, and then my injury quieted down a bit and I relaxed and just let my pace be about 30 seconds off goal. I was fine until I got to the St. Johns Bridge, or rather, the hill leading up to the bridge. That thing is a bear, and most of the runners were just walking up it. The skies opened up and started raining in earnest, and I struggled with my jacket to try to stay as warm and dry as possible. The fiddling with my jacket accidentally reset my watch, and I couldn't get it reset. So I had no more pace counter and only the mile markers on the course to go by, but I knew I was going sloooooow. Getting up the hill was slow, and then afterward I was exhausted and my hip started bothering me again. I trudged along, counting down the miles until Mile Marker 20, when I would meet my friend Jared. Three miles, two miles, one mile... When I saw him I almost burst into tears again. There is something profoundly comforting about knowing that you don't have to go it alone for the hardest part.
Jared was a little worried about my injury and the condition I was in... I was way off pace and in some pain, but he found exactly the right balance of encouragement and humor and he ran a foot or so ahead of me to gently, gently, push the pace. I sped up quite a bit my last five miles thanks to him, and I kept going when I wanted badly to quit. Every mile marker I asked him, "I can run __ more miles, right?" And he would say "yes. You got this!" When we passed Mile Marker 25, he pushed the pace a little more, and kept saying "almost there! Almost there!" He was infectious and encouraging and generally awesome. We had to part ways when I got the finisher's chute, and I ran the last 200 yards alone, under my own power.
I was searching frantically for The Husband at the finish line, but I never saw him. He was there, searching for me, but I missed him somehow. He missed me, too, and when I called him from the line for my finisher's shirt, he thought I was still running! After the finish line, they hand you all kinds of random stuff, I ate a bagel and some juice and some flatbread and whatever other food they had, and then they gave me a medal, a coin, a finisher's charm, a shirt, an emergency blanket, and a rose. I was holding all that stuff when I finally met up with The Husband and Jared again. When I finally saw the husband, he engulfed me in a huge hug and fed me and warmed me up and held all my marathon things and generally took care of me all the way home.
Except for bathroom breaks and water breaks, I ran the whole thing. I didn't stop and walk on the hills; I didn't stop and walk when I was crying from pain, or discouragement or grief. I just ran. I laughed when he told me this, but my friend Marc was right: You just show up, start running, and then keep doing that until the finish line. So, I just kept doing that.
 |
I am incredibly proud of that accomplishment and of all the work that went into it. I am also proud of the money raised for ACS and the tribute to my uncle. But I know now more than ever that I could not have done it on my own, and that I owe a debt of gratitude to a number of people.
First, my husband, who put up with all the training runs, encouraged me and supported me through injury and discouragement, and rearranged his life to accommodate this hobby of mine. Second, Jared, who ran the last six miles with me, who kept me moving when I lost my will and let the pain take over too much of my mind, who read me ridiculously bad puns to make me laugh and pushed the pace little by little to get out of me what I didn't know I had to give. I am also indebted to Kali, who filled my office with good luck balloons, Betsy, who sent cookies and love, Jed, who made me a totally awesome and ridiculous running playlist, Marc, Ryan and Erica, who offered training advice and encouragement, my parents and sister, and all the absolutely wonderful people who contributed to my fundraiser. You are all amazing. Thank you so so so much.
The race itself went okay. The weather was atrocious and much worse than the forecast, so I was underdressed for the cold and the wet. My poor legs were freezing for most of it. I ran the first 9 miles or so on pace and felt good, but my injury flared up a bit in mile nine and got pretty bad through mile 11, and I honestly wasn't sure I could keep going. I was counting down miles until I could get to the aid station where my husband was waiting, and focusing exclusively on just getting there, not even thinking about the rest of the race. I was crying a little with the pain and discouragement, and I ran right into The Husband for a huge hug. I hugged him hugged him and then turned and kept running, reinvigorated by the love and support, and determined to get to the finish line somehow.
I was hurting for another few miles, and then my injury quieted down a bit and I relaxed and just let my pace be about 30 seconds off goal. I was fine until I got to the St. Johns Bridge, or rather, the hill leading up to the bridge. That thing is a bear, and most of the runners were just walking up it. The skies opened up and started raining in earnest, and I struggled with my jacket to try to stay as warm and dry as possible. The fiddling with my jacket accidentally reset my watch, and I couldn't get it reset. So I had no more pace counter and only the mile markers on the course to go by, but I knew I was going sloooooow. Getting up the hill was slow, and then afterward I was exhausted and my hip started bothering me again. I trudged along, counting down the miles until Mile Marker 20, when I would meet my friend Jared. Three miles, two miles, one mile... When I saw him I almost burst into tears again. There is something profoundly comforting about knowing that you don't have to go it alone for the hardest part.
Jared was a little worried about my injury and the condition I was in... I was way off pace and in some pain, but he found exactly the right balance of encouragement and humor and he ran a foot or so ahead of me to gently, gently, push the pace. I sped up quite a bit my last five miles thanks to him, and I kept going when I wanted badly to quit. Every mile marker I asked him, "I can run __ more miles, right?" And he would say "yes. You got this!" When we passed Mile Marker 25, he pushed the pace a little more, and kept saying "almost there! Almost there!" He was infectious and encouraging and generally awesome. We had to part ways when I got the finisher's chute, and I ran the last 200 yards alone, under my own power.
I was searching frantically for The Husband at the finish line, but I never saw him. He was there, searching for me, but I missed him somehow. He missed me, too, and when I called him from the line for my finisher's shirt, he thought I was still running! After the finish line, they hand you all kinds of random stuff, I ate a bagel and some juice and some flatbread and whatever other food they had, and then they gave me a medal, a coin, a finisher's charm, a shirt, an emergency blanket, and a rose. I was holding all that stuff when I finally met up with The Husband and Jared again. When I finally saw the husband, he engulfed me in a huge hug and fed me and warmed me up and held all my marathon things and generally took care of me all the way home.
Except for bathroom breaks and water breaks, I ran the whole thing. I didn't stop and walk on the hills; I didn't stop and walk when I was crying from pain, or discouragement or grief. I just ran. I laughed when he told me this, but my friend Marc was right: You just show up, start running, and then keep doing that until the finish line. So, I just kept doing that.
Thank you!
I am so touched and heartened by all the incredible support I've gotten for the marathon tomorrow, and for all the people who have sponsored me by donating to the American Cancer Society through my charity runner page. You are all incredible, incredible people. Thank you so much. I feel like anything is possible right now.
Today, the sun is shining, and the rain has stopped, and the world is taking a deep breath. I went downtown this morning and picked up all my race stuff, so now I have plenty of mini Larabars, my race bib, my tracking chip, and my ACS DetermiNation running shirt. I am laying out my gear, charging my Ipod and my GPS watch, and psyching up. I am ready.
See you at the finish line.
Today, the sun is shining, and the rain has stopped, and the world is taking a deep breath. I went downtown this morning and picked up all my race stuff, so now I have plenty of mini Larabars, my race bib, my tracking chip, and my ACS DetermiNation running shirt. I am laying out my gear, charging my Ipod and my GPS watch, and psyching up. I am ready.
See you at the finish line.
Melancholy and Nostalgia
I was feeling a little down today and so when I came home I loaded up a playlist of songs that I loved years ago, a melancholy mix that reminds me of an earlier time, of my friend Miriam, and of growing up. Here are two of my favorites:
Neko Case, Thrice All American
Neko Case, Thrice All American
Rosie Thomas, October
Cooking
I blog a lot about food, though this blog has somewhat been taken over by running, and I think it's probably pretty clear from my recipes and my posts that I love to cook and spend a lot of my time and energy thinking about food and making food and ... well, eating food, of course.
I've alluded to the family's love of food and cooking before, and so it will probably surprise no one that I come by my foodishness naturally. My grandmother on my dad's side is an amazing cook, a woman who used to host the kinds of corporate dinner parties you only see now on television. My grandmother majored in home economics in college (she's 94, and I'm proud that she is the second generation of college-educated women in my family; I am the fourth) and is an experimental and daring cook compared with the norms of Midwest 1950s, so my dad and his siblings grew up on curry and lobster, as well as twice-baked potatoes and homemade pasta. My aunt Esther inherited her skills and her love of food, and is my inspiration in all things gustatory.
My mother is also a great cook, and furthermore devoted an impressive amount of time and effort to quality and home-made food for us kids, so I grew up relatively free of artificial colors, instant boxed meals, and white bread. My mother worked around the two pickiest eaters ever born and gave us healthy and yummy food, so we modeled our eating habits on that pattern. I still can't eat sugary cereal or abide fake cheese, for example.
Anyway, I was always interested in food. Growing up, my sister and I would do "Patio Court" for our parents, an imaginary restaurant that involved us moving the table out onto the deck, carefully setting it with the good dishes, and then carefully cooking a "fancy" dinner for them to eat out there. Sometimes we were successful, sometimes not, but I am grateful that my parents were willing to let us try to cook everything on our own and learn to have fun with cooking for real. I also used to watch cooking shows and try to replicate things I'd seen, from fancy chocolate garnishes to homemade pasta, often without a recipe. I often failed, but again, my parents were supportive of my various kitchen experiments.
My parents were also really encouraging of self-sufficiency when it came to food. They kept the breakfast cereal on a bottom shelf and put a small amount of milk in a kid-size pitcher on a reachable shelf in the fridge so that I could get my own breakfast from kindergarten on. So I grew up enjoying food and eating and with a lot of freedom to try things and make things so long as I followed basic health rules.
However, it was in college that I really began to think of cooking as my primary hobby and social outlet, a way to bring people together and create a home where we didn't really have one. I even cooked in the dorm, in the one kitchen in the dorm building, to make special dinners for my boyfriend and friends. I made really simple things like big batches of fry bread, and really homey things like casseroles, and nothing terribly amazing. Later in college, when I lived off-campus, I cooked more and more, often for big groups of people. I hosted dinner parties and holiday dinners and fed my housemates on a regular basis. I got better at cooking. I made homemade pasta, I made my own soup stock, and I got creative. I fed The Husband, who was then The Boyfriend, because left to his own devices, he would either forget to eat or live on $5 pizzas and late-night quesadillas.
I love to have people over for dinner, and I love to cook surrounded by friends and laughter and conversation. I feel truly in my element under those circumstances, like I am where I was meant to be and the universe makes sense and is a joyous place. Food is good.
I've alluded to the family's love of food and cooking before, and so it will probably surprise no one that I come by my foodishness naturally. My grandmother on my dad's side is an amazing cook, a woman who used to host the kinds of corporate dinner parties you only see now on television. My grandmother majored in home economics in college (she's 94, and I'm proud that she is the second generation of college-educated women in my family; I am the fourth) and is an experimental and daring cook compared with the norms of Midwest 1950s, so my dad and his siblings grew up on curry and lobster, as well as twice-baked potatoes and homemade pasta. My aunt Esther inherited her skills and her love of food, and is my inspiration in all things gustatory.
My mother is also a great cook, and furthermore devoted an impressive amount of time and effort to quality and home-made food for us kids, so I grew up relatively free of artificial colors, instant boxed meals, and white bread. My mother worked around the two pickiest eaters ever born and gave us healthy and yummy food, so we modeled our eating habits on that pattern. I still can't eat sugary cereal or abide fake cheese, for example.
Anyway, I was always interested in food. Growing up, my sister and I would do "Patio Court" for our parents, an imaginary restaurant that involved us moving the table out onto the deck, carefully setting it with the good dishes, and then carefully cooking a "fancy" dinner for them to eat out there. Sometimes we were successful, sometimes not, but I am grateful that my parents were willing to let us try to cook everything on our own and learn to have fun with cooking for real. I also used to watch cooking shows and try to replicate things I'd seen, from fancy chocolate garnishes to homemade pasta, often without a recipe. I often failed, but again, my parents were supportive of my various kitchen experiments.
My parents were also really encouraging of self-sufficiency when it came to food. They kept the breakfast cereal on a bottom shelf and put a small amount of milk in a kid-size pitcher on a reachable shelf in the fridge so that I could get my own breakfast from kindergarten on. So I grew up enjoying food and eating and with a lot of freedom to try things and make things so long as I followed basic health rules.
However, it was in college that I really began to think of cooking as my primary hobby and social outlet, a way to bring people together and create a home where we didn't really have one. I even cooked in the dorm, in the one kitchen in the dorm building, to make special dinners for my boyfriend and friends. I made really simple things like big batches of fry bread, and really homey things like casseroles, and nothing terribly amazing. Later in college, when I lived off-campus, I cooked more and more, often for big groups of people. I hosted dinner parties and holiday dinners and fed my housemates on a regular basis. I got better at cooking. I made homemade pasta, I made my own soup stock, and I got creative. I fed The Husband, who was then The Boyfriend, because left to his own devices, he would either forget to eat or live on $5 pizzas and late-night quesadillas.
I love to have people over for dinner, and I love to cook surrounded by friends and laughter and conversation. I feel truly in my element under those circumstances, like I am where I was meant to be and the universe makes sense and is a joyous place. Food is good.
Monte Cristo!
I may have just killed my husband with one of these. They are delicious.
Mammal-Free Monte Cristos- This recipe makes 2 sandwiches, but I really hope you could have figured that out on your own.
Nouns-
4 slices high-quality white bread (I used a rustic boule)
4 slices swiss cheese
4 ounces of honey roasted turkey breast
2 eggs
1/4 cup milk
currant jam or blackberry preserves
3 tbsp butter
1 tbsp powdered sugar
toothpicks
Verbs-
In a shallow dish, whisk together the milk and eggs. Then, heat the butter in a medium skillet over medium high heat. While butter is heating, assemble one sandwich, as follows: bread, cheese, turkey, cheese, bread.
Slide a toothpick on an angle through the sandwich on each long side to hold it together while frying.
Gently lay the sandwich in the sizzling butter.
Fry each side for 2-3 minutes, turning very gently and carefully.
Remove the sandwich from the pan and lay on a paper towel to cool. Repeat with the second sandwich. Garnish with sieved powdered sugar and serve with the jam or preserves. And napkins. Lots of napkins.
Mammal-Free Monte Cristos- This recipe makes 2 sandwiches, but I really hope you could have figured that out on your own.
Nouns-
4 slices high-quality white bread (I used a rustic boule)
4 slices swiss cheese
4 ounces of honey roasted turkey breast
2 eggs
1/4 cup milk
currant jam or blackberry preserves
3 tbsp butter
1 tbsp powdered sugar
toothpicks
Verbs-
In a shallow dish, whisk together the milk and eggs. Then, heat the butter in a medium skillet over medium high heat. While butter is heating, assemble one sandwich, as follows: bread, cheese, turkey, cheese, bread.
Slide a toothpick on an angle through the sandwich on each long side to hold it together while frying.
Gently lay the sandwich in the sizzling butter.
Fry each side for 2-3 minutes, turning very gently and carefully.
Remove the sandwich from the pan and lay on a paper towel to cool. Repeat with the second sandwich. Garnish with sieved powdered sugar and serve with the jam or preserves. And napkins. Lots of napkins.
Marathon Training FINAL WEEK! Eek!
Well, the last month of training has not been what I hoped it would be. I haven't been running the miles I was scheduled to... I've been running about half that, actually. And my last few longs runs weren't long. I've been battling injury and the demands of travel, family and work. I've been struggling with grief and exhaustion and discouragement. But, ready or not, I am running a marathon one week from today.
I had a good run today: 8 miles in the rain. It was a good reminder that it's October now, and I'm facing a few long months of these gloomy, soggy runs. It was a wake-up call that the marathon itself might not be the sunny adventure I had envisioned. It was also a reminder that I'm in better shape than I think. 8 miles is, frankly, easy, even at the relatively ambitious pace I set today, and even after a few weeks of slacking off or being hurt. I can run 8 miles no problem. So even though I haven't logged the distanced I wanted, I am trying to convince myself that I am ready enough, that I can do this, and that it will all be okay.
I also want to take a moment to ask for help again. In this last week I expect I will be nervous and suffering from some self-doubt. I need encouragement and support. Also, if you can, please consider clicking on the link in the right sidebar of this blog and sponsoring my run for the American Cancer Society. It would mean a lot to me. Thank you so much, everyone, for all the help and support you've already given me. I'm grateful.
I had a good run today: 8 miles in the rain. It was a good reminder that it's October now, and I'm facing a few long months of these gloomy, soggy runs. It was a wake-up call that the marathon itself might not be the sunny adventure I had envisioned. It was also a reminder that I'm in better shape than I think. 8 miles is, frankly, easy, even at the relatively ambitious pace I set today, and even after a few weeks of slacking off or being hurt. I can run 8 miles no problem. So even though I haven't logged the distanced I wanted, I am trying to convince myself that I am ready enough, that I can do this, and that it will all be okay.
I also want to take a moment to ask for help again. In this last week I expect I will be nervous and suffering from some self-doubt. I need encouragement and support. Also, if you can, please consider clicking on the link in the right sidebar of this blog and sponsoring my run for the American Cancer Society. It would mean a lot to me. Thank you so much, everyone, for all the help and support you've already given me. I'm grateful.
Meal Plan- It's fall!
Inspired by the weather, this week's meal plan is heavy on crockpot cooking and comfort food.
Husband Soup
Chicken and Dumplins
Curried Lentil Soup
Monte Cristo Sandwiches
Leftover from last week's plan:
Quinoa Salad
Crockpot Chickpea Curry
Husband Soup
Chicken and Dumplins
Curried Lentil Soup
Monte Cristo Sandwiches
Leftover from last week's plan:
Quinoa Salad
Crockpot Chickpea Curry
Fishing
Because of recent events in my life, both joyous and sad, I have been reflecting a lot about loved ones lost and about my fondest memories of them. I realized that it has been over five years since my grandfather passed away, and in that time, I have left college, started and finished law school, taken the bar, started working as a lawyer, gotten married and settled into my grown-up life, the life that I have in part because of his encouragement and support. These last five years have been jam-packed with milestones, and not a single one has passed without me thinking of him and wishing he could be there to see it.
My fondest memories of my grandfather generally involve food or fishing, because those were the two of his passions that he most ardently and thoroughly involved the family in. Fishing occurs at every non-wedding family gathering, and when our family was a corporation for a while (for tax reasons having to do with the family farm... or something) or corporate motto was "let's eat!"
I have so many fond memories of grandpa, of him patiently untangling fishing line that I had managed to tangle again, of him encouraging me to order off the grown-up menu at fancy restaurants when I was a kid, of him giving The Husband the once-over when we first started dating. (Verdict: he'll do. Grandma's verdict, on the other hand: "Oh lord, she is going to steam-roller right over that poor boy. Grandma, I have tried not to!) My grandfather's death was the first major loss of my life, so I learned how to grieve at the same time I was learning to grow up in so many other ways. Losing him, getting into law school, finishing college, those things all happened more or less together. I think of them as a kind of fulcrum of my life; they are the point where I tipped away from childhood and into the life I have now.
There is more to say, but I seem to have run out of the saying of it. The moral of the story, I guess, is that I am still learning to grieve, and it is a process I hope I don't get much practice at. Happy October, everyone.
My fondest memories of my grandfather generally involve food or fishing, because those were the two of his passions that he most ardently and thoroughly involved the family in. Fishing occurs at every non-wedding family gathering, and when our family was a corporation for a while (for tax reasons having to do with the family farm... or something) or corporate motto was "let's eat!"
I have so many fond memories of grandpa, of him patiently untangling fishing line that I had managed to tangle again, of him encouraging me to order off the grown-up menu at fancy restaurants when I was a kid, of him giving The Husband the once-over when we first started dating. (Verdict: he'll do. Grandma's verdict, on the other hand: "Oh lord, she is going to steam-roller right over that poor boy. Grandma, I have tried not to!) My grandfather's death was the first major loss of my life, so I learned how to grieve at the same time I was learning to grow up in so many other ways. Losing him, getting into law school, finishing college, those things all happened more or less together. I think of them as a kind of fulcrum of my life; they are the point where I tipped away from childhood and into the life I have now.
There is more to say, but I seem to have run out of the saying of it. The moral of the story, I guess, is that I am still learning to grieve, and it is a process I hope I don't get much practice at. Happy October, everyone.
Penne with Vodka Sauce
This is a modified version of a famous Rachel Ray recipe, (yes, I'm admitting that up front), and I like it because it is easy, quick and very reliable.
Penne with Vodka Sauce
Nouns-
1 pound penne pasta, prepared
5 shallots or one onion, diced
5 cloves garlic, minced
4 tbsp butter
1 large can crushed tomatoes
1 cup chicken stock
1/2 cup vodka
4-6 ounces heavy cream
10 fresh basil leaves, torn or cut into thin ribbons
Verbs-
Saute the shallots and garlic in the butter over medium high heat until the shallots are translucent. Add the chicken stock and simmer until reduced by half. Add the vodka and simmer until reduced by by half. Add the tomatoes and simmer about 10 minutes. Reduce heat to low and add the heavy cream, stirring to combine. Toss with the prepared pasta until coated. Sprinkle with the basil and serve. Yum!
Penne with Vodka Sauce
Nouns-
1 pound penne pasta, prepared
5 shallots or one onion, diced
5 cloves garlic, minced
4 tbsp butter
1 large can crushed tomatoes
1 cup chicken stock
1/2 cup vodka
4-6 ounces heavy cream
10 fresh basil leaves, torn or cut into thin ribbons
Verbs-
Saute the shallots and garlic in the butter over medium high heat until the shallots are translucent. Add the chicken stock and simmer until reduced by half. Add the vodka and simmer until reduced by by half. Add the tomatoes and simmer about 10 minutes. Reduce heat to low and add the heavy cream, stirring to combine. Toss with the prepared pasta until coated. Sprinkle with the basil and serve. Yum!
Where to begin...
I haven't posted in a while because life has been incredibly incredibly crazy. There are many things I want to write about, and I'm not sure I'll have time for all of them. Rather than saving the best for last, I'll open with it. Last week, I traveled to Colorado for my sister's wedding, which was the loveliest and most satisfying wedding I've ever been to. I know that everyone who has a little sister would say the same thing, but my sister is the most beautiful person in the world. And she was the most beautiful bride I've ever seen. There is no one in this world that I am more proud of, no one more precious to me, and no one I'm happier for. It sounds incredibly cheesy, but it is absolutely true. She astounds me with her intelligence, her humor and her quiet strength, and she delighted me with her loving enthusiasm and irrepressible excitement.
It is a great honor and a great joy to participate in an event that was so important to my sister, and in an event that was so full of love. It was a reminder of the greatest joys and loves in my own life. Sometimes as we walk through our days it is hard to know whether a particular moment will be remembered, whether an event is important or special, but sometimes it is very clear that this moment is a precious memory in the making, that it should be savored and filed away to enjoy for the rest of your life. And my whole weekend was like that, punctuated with beautiful, essential memories.
I loved watching my sister's husband over the days leading up to the wedding as he was so so so excited to marry my sister, so overcome with love. I loved watching my grandmother's face when she surprised my sister by coming to the wedding when we all thought she couldn't make it. I loved watching my mother's face as my sister put on her wedding dress. I loved watching my dad nervously preparing to give the champagne toast after the ceremony, and smiling broadly as he closed his speech with a geeky quote from a sci-fi movie.
Because I am so so so fortunate in my family and friends, I was able to unwind and cut loose a little at the reception. My best friend and my wonderful husband took care of the whole checklist of stuff I needed to do after the wedding, and my husband and cousin Sam ensured that I was pleasantly drunk by the end of the evening. It is a treasure to be so well-loved and supported, and to be part of a network that loves and supports my sister in turn.
There are, as I said, many other things to write about, but for now, I just want to think about my beautiful, beautiful sister filled with happiness and light, heading off to the Caribbean on her honeymoon.
It is a great honor and a great joy to participate in an event that was so important to my sister, and in an event that was so full of love. It was a reminder of the greatest joys and loves in my own life. Sometimes as we walk through our days it is hard to know whether a particular moment will be remembered, whether an event is important or special, but sometimes it is very clear that this moment is a precious memory in the making, that it should be savored and filed away to enjoy for the rest of your life. And my whole weekend was like that, punctuated with beautiful, essential memories.
I loved watching my sister's husband over the days leading up to the wedding as he was so so so excited to marry my sister, so overcome with love. I loved watching my grandmother's face when she surprised my sister by coming to the wedding when we all thought she couldn't make it. I loved watching my mother's face as my sister put on her wedding dress. I loved watching my dad nervously preparing to give the champagne toast after the ceremony, and smiling broadly as he closed his speech with a geeky quote from a sci-fi movie.
Because I am so so so fortunate in my family and friends, I was able to unwind and cut loose a little at the reception. My best friend and my wonderful husband took care of the whole checklist of stuff I needed to do after the wedding, and my husband and cousin Sam ensured that I was pleasantly drunk by the end of the evening. It is a treasure to be so well-loved and supported, and to be part of a network that loves and supports my sister in turn.
There are, as I said, many other things to write about, but for now, I just want to think about my beautiful, beautiful sister filled with happiness and light, heading off to the Caribbean on her honeymoon.
Google Voice Part 2
My mother reads my blog.
As a result, I got the following voicemail transcript today:
"I will try to leave this message in a deep voice so that your auto transcrib or will understand it, which is your mother. And give me a call when you get this message. If you can. Thanks. Love you. Bye now."
Apparently, talking in a loud, purposefully (and hilariously) deep voice really does make a difference.
As a result, I got the following voicemail transcript today:
"I will try to leave this message in a deep voice so that your auto transcrib or will understand it, which is your mother. And give me a call when you get this message. If you can. Thanks. Love you. Bye now."
Apparently, talking in a loud, purposefully (and hilariously) deep voice really does make a difference.
Voicemail
I subscribe to Google Voice, a service that transcribes my voicemails and then texts the transcripts to me. I also get an email of the transcript and the voicemail itself. I LOVE this service, because I was one of those annoying people who never listened to voicemails and would just call you back and ask about whatever it was you just spent three minutes leaving me a message about. For whatever reason, I find I actually read the voicemail transcripts, or even *shockingly* listen to my voicemail, now that I get it in email form. Don't ask me why; I don't know.
The one major drawback of the service is that it has a hard time with some voices, specifically, high squeaky ones. And, unfortunately, my sister, my mother and myself all have the exact same voice. (I still answer the phone "Hello, this is Alice" because of years and years of having people immediately assume I was my mother or my sister on the phone.) Google Voice cannot figure out what we are saying, and so I get some pretty hilariously inaccurate transcripts.
Here's one from my sister today:
The one major drawback of the service is that it has a hard time with some voices, specifically, high squeaky ones. And, unfortunately, my sister, my mother and myself all have the exact same voice. (I still answer the phone "Hello, this is Alice" because of years and years of having people immediately assume I was my mother or my sister on the phone.) Google Voice cannot figure out what we are saying, and so I get some pretty hilariously inaccurate transcripts.
Here's one from my sister today:
Hi, A trying to get your feet. Just wanted to say hi to talk to you and said they'd like it to you a very very soon. Can I talk to you know about that, definitely be a paper open. Hey, and then time off all day so You know it's contract your flight and everything. I compact Anthony late. And hey I think I just can't keep doing 3 days Berkeley. I'm going to have you here. But I am really good shape. Actually, it's distributing they left me feel really good if you like crap than the new about the printer. Actually, it's overwhelming with. I'm clicking if I don't know it anything. Bye. Things here and I, hey, love you and hope you are making everything and error that could be, new I love you and I'll be on tonight. Our home after 8. I need Tuesday if you were okay. I love you bye!
Marathon Training
Well, folks, it's been a while since I posted about running, and the reason is because it has not been going well. After my first aborted long run, I had a second, equally painful, aborted long run. So I am two critical weeks behind on my training and worried I won't be able to get in a last long run before I need to be tapering, meaning that ... this is it. This is all the real training I get before my first marathon.
This week has been painful. My leg has been in bad bad shape, hurting whether I run or not, and keeping me up at night. It's been a week of much ice, much advil, and much whining. I have been really discouraged, wondering if all my hard work will get a chance to pay off, and if I'll actually get a chance to achieve my goal. It's also been hard because I haven't really been able to run, and I get twitchy as hell when I can't run. I am not super pleasant to be around.
Today I went to the doctor to have my hip and knee checked out, and I was terrified that she'd put the kibosh on the marathon. I am happy to say that I got a *provisional* go-ahead for training and for the race itself. Apparently, what I thought was wicked wicked tendonitis was actually a slipped or misaligned sacrum/pelvis joint, which has caused my stride to be crooked and all my muscles and tendons on the right side to be pulled tightly in one direction. That tightness starts pulling on the lower leg muscles and pulling my knee out of alignment after a few miles, and then it hurts hurts hurts. So I must get me to a chiropractor to get the joint put back so all the muscles can stop freaking out, and at that point, the ice/tylenol/stretching routine should actually work. I am cleared to run unless and until it hurts, so I can put in a few miles each day and keep from losing condition.
It's not perfect. I'm sad that I didn't have the training schedule I wanted; I had it all planned out, and now I will have had only one 20 mile run before the race, which is less than preferable. But, I have faith that I can still do this, and I"m trying not to let the injury and training setbacks freak me out too much. All I can do is the best I can do, and I plan to do just that.
This week has been painful. My leg has been in bad bad shape, hurting whether I run or not, and keeping me up at night. It's been a week of much ice, much advil, and much whining. I have been really discouraged, wondering if all my hard work will get a chance to pay off, and if I'll actually get a chance to achieve my goal. It's also been hard because I haven't really been able to run, and I get twitchy as hell when I can't run. I am not super pleasant to be around.
Today I went to the doctor to have my hip and knee checked out, and I was terrified that she'd put the kibosh on the marathon. I am happy to say that I got a *provisional* go-ahead for training and for the race itself. Apparently, what I thought was wicked wicked tendonitis was actually a slipped or misaligned sacrum/pelvis joint, which has caused my stride to be crooked and all my muscles and tendons on the right side to be pulled tightly in one direction. That tightness starts pulling on the lower leg muscles and pulling my knee out of alignment after a few miles, and then it hurts hurts hurts. So I must get me to a chiropractor to get the joint put back so all the muscles can stop freaking out, and at that point, the ice/tylenol/stretching routine should actually work. I am cleared to run unless and until it hurts, so I can put in a few miles each day and keep from losing condition.
It's not perfect. I'm sad that I didn't have the training schedule I wanted; I had it all planned out, and now I will have had only one 20 mile run before the race, which is less than preferable. But, I have faith that I can still do this, and I"m trying not to let the injury and training setbacks freak me out too much. All I can do is the best I can do, and I plan to do just that.
All the things!
Today a coworker was asking me about the funny stuff I read on the internet, because he'd seen a facebook post I wrote about one of the blogs I love. Here's the short list of my favorite funny internet sites:
The Oatmeal- funny comics, and I especially love their grammar posters.
XKCD- a webcomic that is sometimes too nerdy even for me; bonus: math jokes!
The Bloggess- complete insanity. Fo' reals. This woman makes me look like a Zen master of calm.
Dooce- though a little too trendy recently, I love her candor and she still cracks me up.
Hyperbole and Half- sadly, she hasn't updated in a while, but this blog is my favorite thing on the whole wide internets.
The Cheezburger Universe: from the funny/cute pics of cats on I Can Has Cheezburger, to the social networking fails of Failbook, to the awesomeness of WIN!, it's all right here.
Regretsy- The best arts and crafts fails of Etsy. Wow, this is some ugly ugly stuff.
Someecards.com- I send a someecards card to my friend Miriam every couple of months, because she is really the only person I can say "I love you like a cannibal loves human flesh" to.
Postcards from Yo Mama- My mom suddenly seems super sane and normal!
There are many more that I read sometimes, but those are worth checking out if ever you want to waste your whole day.
The Oatmeal- funny comics, and I especially love their grammar posters.
XKCD- a webcomic that is sometimes too nerdy even for me; bonus: math jokes!
The Bloggess- complete insanity. Fo' reals. This woman makes me look like a Zen master of calm.
Dooce- though a little too trendy recently, I love her candor and she still cracks me up.
Hyperbole and Half- sadly, she hasn't updated in a while, but this blog is my favorite thing on the whole wide internets.
The Cheezburger Universe: from the funny/cute pics of cats on I Can Has Cheezburger, to the social networking fails of Failbook, to the awesomeness of WIN!, it's all right here.
Regretsy- The best arts and crafts fails of Etsy. Wow, this is some ugly ugly stuff.
Someecards.com- I send a someecards card to my friend Miriam every couple of months, because she is really the only person I can say "I love you like a cannibal loves human flesh" to.
Postcards from Yo Mama- My mom suddenly seems super sane and normal!
There are many more that I read sometimes, but those are worth checking out if ever you want to waste your whole day.
Anniversary
Two years ago today, The Husband and I tied the knot. For almost ten years now I have shared my life with The Husband; we have had ups and downs, struggles and triumphs, and many many adventures. We've moved from Washington to Michigan, from Michigan to Oregon, and traveled to Colorado, Indiana, Mexico, Ireland, and many places in between. We've celebrated Christmases and Thanksgivings and birthdays together, we've worked hard and relaxed and laughed and cried together. I am grateful for his love and support, for the hard work he puts into our marriage, our home and our daily life, and for his humor, caring, and kindness.
Meal Plan
This week, we are having
Dan Dan Noodles
Spaghetti
Green Salad with Orange-Glazed Chicken
Homemade Pizza
Dan Dan Noodles
Spaghetti
Green Salad with Orange-Glazed Chicken
Homemade Pizza
Marathon Training
Today I was supposed to run 20 miles.
I didn't.
I have not had a failed run like this in a long time, a long long time, and I forgot how incredibly demoralizing it is. I ran 10 miles before I just completely fell apart. From the beginning my hip and knee were hurting, but they just kept getting worse, and at mile ten I was making the pathetic whimper noises that I like to reserve for mile 19 or so. I sat down just off the trail and called my husband, sobbing, because I just couldn't go any farther. It hurt. It really hurt, and I debated whether I would be making myself worse by continuing, but I finally admitted to myself that the debate was unnecessary because I just... couldn't.
I sat and I ate a Larabar and drank some water, and I cried a bit more. Then I tried to run a few steps before giving up and walking slowly home.
I am trying to figure out what to do now in terms of training, and also trying to get my body back to cooperating with my whole marathon plan. Today I am mostly putting ice on various parts of myself and watching Sports Night. Tomorrow I will be on a plane all day. Through the week I am going to play it by ear and see how running goes, but I'm going to try to get a lot of midweek miles in because I've been slacking on that. Then I'll re-attempt the 20 miler on Friday if I'm up for it.
This really sucks.
I didn't.
I have not had a failed run like this in a long time, a long long time, and I forgot how incredibly demoralizing it is. I ran 10 miles before I just completely fell apart. From the beginning my hip and knee were hurting, but they just kept getting worse, and at mile ten I was making the pathetic whimper noises that I like to reserve for mile 19 or so. I sat down just off the trail and called my husband, sobbing, because I just couldn't go any farther. It hurt. It really hurt, and I debated whether I would be making myself worse by continuing, but I finally admitted to myself that the debate was unnecessary because I just... couldn't.
I sat and I ate a Larabar and drank some water, and I cried a bit more. Then I tried to run a few steps before giving up and walking slowly home.
I am trying to figure out what to do now in terms of training, and also trying to get my body back to cooperating with my whole marathon plan. Today I am mostly putting ice on various parts of myself and watching Sports Night. Tomorrow I will be on a plane all day. Through the week I am going to play it by ear and see how running goes, but I'm going to try to get a lot of midweek miles in because I've been slacking on that. Then I'll re-attempt the 20 miler on Friday if I'm up for it.
This really sucks.
Marathon Training
Yesterday I did a step-back run of 14.5 miles, and I don't really remember how it was going or really anything about it because at mile 11 my friend Miriam called to tell me that she had had her beautiful baby girl, River.
I laughed and cried and stumbled along the trail talking to Mirm on the phone and hearing the happy gurgles of her baby nursing in the background, and my heart was so full of joy I wanted to hug random passers-by. I am truly grateful that I carry a phone with me when I run for safety reasons, because it let me be available and connected even in the middle of a long run, three miles from home.
Running is a wonderful escape, a great way to meditate, to get away from things, and to focus on yourself for a few hours. But I'm glad I was reminded that I don't want to run so far away that I lose sight of the people waiting for me when I return, and that it's good to be able to reach out to them or be reached by them when we need each other. It is a blessing.
It's been a rough few weeks for me, and running has helped a lot, but the thing that has really gotten me through is the support of my loved ones and my ability to share in the joy of their lives. The sudden and miraculous existence of a tiny little person 200 miles away, a person who doesn't even know what her own hands are or how to sit up, was a thing that transformed me. After Mirm hung up to finish feeding her new daughter and I wiped the tears from my eyes, I ran home like I had wings on my feet and the whole world was sparkling.
Welcome to the world, River.
I laughed and cried and stumbled along the trail talking to Mirm on the phone and hearing the happy gurgles of her baby nursing in the background, and my heart was so full of joy I wanted to hug random passers-by. I am truly grateful that I carry a phone with me when I run for safety reasons, because it let me be available and connected even in the middle of a long run, three miles from home.
Running is a wonderful escape, a great way to meditate, to get away from things, and to focus on yourself for a few hours. But I'm glad I was reminded that I don't want to run so far away that I lose sight of the people waiting for me when I return, and that it's good to be able to reach out to them or be reached by them when we need each other. It is a blessing.
It's been a rough few weeks for me, and running has helped a lot, but the thing that has really gotten me through is the support of my loved ones and my ability to share in the joy of their lives. The sudden and miraculous existence of a tiny little person 200 miles away, a person who doesn't even know what her own hands are or how to sit up, was a thing that transformed me. After Mirm hung up to finish feeding her new daughter and I wiped the tears from my eyes, I ran home like I had wings on my feet and the whole world was sparkling.
Welcome to the world, River.
Meal plan
This week we are having:
Black Bean and Sweet Potato Burritos
Chicken Burgers with Green Apples and Brie
Strawberry Spinach Salad
Teriyaki Salmon with Brown Rice
Lemony Spaghetti with Shrimp
I am also making my usual pasta salad with feta for a BBQ tomorrow after my long run.
Black Bean and Sweet Potato Burritos
Chicken Burgers with Green Apples and Brie
Strawberry Spinach Salad
Teriyaki Salmon with Brown Rice
Lemony Spaghetti with Shrimp
I am also making my usual pasta salad with feta for a BBQ tomorrow after my long run.
Spring Rolls!
I have made these once or twice before, but it had been a long time, so it took a while to get the hang of it again. But once I did, I was glad, because they are so fun and so yummy. The ingredients are easy to find; I only had to go to the Asian market for the rice papers. Everything else came from the big box grocery.
Spring Rolls:
Nouns-
1 package rice papers
1 package Mai Fun rice sticks
2 carrots, julienned
1 bunch cilantro, washed and stemmed
20 Basil Leaves
8 sprigs of mint, washed and stemmed
1 pound protein (cooked shrimp, cooked chicken, cooked tofu, whatever you prefer)
Butter lettuce, washed and torn into small pieces
Mung Bean Sprouts (optional)
Verbs-
Prepare the Mai Fun by soaking them in warm water for 10 minutes, draining thoroughly, and then dropping them into boiling water for one minute. Drain, rinse, and chill the noodles. Then, prepare an assembly line where you have a flat space to work, like a cutting board. On one side of the board you need a large flat dish with an inch or so of warm water and your packet of rice papers. On the other side should be all your stuffing ingredients. Be sure the protein is cut into strips or small pieces.
Take one rice paper and immerse it in the warm water for 5-10 seconds, holding it so the ends don't curl up out of the water. Lay the paper on your board and add the filling in whatever combination sounds yummy. I usually do a few leaves of mint and basil, about 10 of the thin julienned carrot strips, about a half cup of noodles, stretched along the length of the rice paper to within an inch and a half of each side, a small pile of cilantro and sprouts, enough of my protein to lay across the noodles. Then, I pull the far edge of the paper over the ingredients and tuck it in under them, followed by folding in the sides of the rice paper like a burrito. Then I roll it towards me, as tightly as I can, until the edge of the rice paper sticks to the roll. Ta-da! Spring roll.
Repeat with new rice papers until all your filling ingredients are used up.
Easy Dipping Sauce
Nouns-
2-3 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tsp chili garlic sauce
Verbs-
Whisk the ingredients together in a small bowl. Garnish with cilantro and lime if you feel like it.
Spring Rolls:
Nouns-
1 package rice papers
1 package Mai Fun rice sticks
2 carrots, julienned
1 bunch cilantro, washed and stemmed
20 Basil Leaves
8 sprigs of mint, washed and stemmed
1 pound protein (cooked shrimp, cooked chicken, cooked tofu, whatever you prefer)
Butter lettuce, washed and torn into small pieces
Mung Bean Sprouts (optional)
Verbs-
Prepare the Mai Fun by soaking them in warm water for 10 minutes, draining thoroughly, and then dropping them into boiling water for one minute. Drain, rinse, and chill the noodles. Then, prepare an assembly line where you have a flat space to work, like a cutting board. On one side of the board you need a large flat dish with an inch or so of warm water and your packet of rice papers. On the other side should be all your stuffing ingredients. Be sure the protein is cut into strips or small pieces.
Take one rice paper and immerse it in the warm water for 5-10 seconds, holding it so the ends don't curl up out of the water. Lay the paper on your board and add the filling in whatever combination sounds yummy. I usually do a few leaves of mint and basil, about 10 of the thin julienned carrot strips, about a half cup of noodles, stretched along the length of the rice paper to within an inch and a half of each side, a small pile of cilantro and sprouts, enough of my protein to lay across the noodles. Then, I pull the far edge of the paper over the ingredients and tuck it in under them, followed by folding in the sides of the rice paper like a burrito. Then I roll it towards me, as tightly as I can, until the edge of the rice paper sticks to the roll. Ta-da! Spring roll.
Repeat with new rice papers until all your filling ingredients are used up.
Easy Dipping Sauce
Nouns-
2-3 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tsp chili garlic sauce
Verbs-
Whisk the ingredients together in a small bowl. Garnish with cilantro and lime if you feel like it.
Meal Plan
This week, we are having:
Chicken Fried Rice
Chorizo Lentil Soup (leftover from last week's plan)
Tilapia with Broccoli and Quinoa Pilaf
Fresh Spring Rolls with Sweet and Sour Sauce
Black Bean Burritos
Chicken Fried Rice
Chorizo Lentil Soup (leftover from last week's plan)
Tilapia with Broccoli and Quinoa Pilaf
Fresh Spring Rolls with Sweet and Sour Sauce
Black Bean Burritos
Marathon Training
This morning, after getting very little sleep because of the heat, I got up at 6:45 to get ready for my long run. I wanted to hit the trail by 7:30 in the hopes that I'd be home before it got unbearably hot out. I dragged my butt out of bed, choked down half a banana and a Larabar, and geared up. Yes, gear. Running long distances requires a lot of gear, at least for me, and I find that I look at other runners differently now based on what they pack along; I try to guess how far and how fast they are planning to go based on what they are wearing and carrying.
Anyway, my essential long run gear includes the basics: shoes, dry-fit socks, running skirt, industrial strength sports bra, tech fabric tank top. It also includes the extras: shoe wallet with keys and ID, running belt with water bottle, electrolyte packets, Larabar and cell phone, Ipod, running hat, sunglasses.
Once I was all geared up, I hit the road a little bit late at 7:40. My long run route now is basically two loops. I do a loop from my house to the south end of the Fanno Creek Trail in Tualatin, then pass my house and do another loop out to the north end of the trail in Beaverton. The south loop is usually much shorter, but today I had to add two miles to it so that my total route would be twenty miles. That meant that by the time I hit the trailhead on my 12-mile Tigard-Beaverton loop, I'd already been running for an hour and half. And I could feel it.
I have run that north loop so many times that it's built into my muscle memory. I know exactly how far I've come and how far there is to go at any point on that trail. Hitting that north loop trailhead having already run 8 miles was hard. My body knew exactly how far it had yet to go and how tired it already was. Also, by then, it was starting to get hot, and I had to be really conscientious about water. There are a lot more opportunities to hydrate on the south loop than the north. There's only one drinking fountain on the whole north loop, and it's two miles in. So I had tried to drink and refill my water supply at least once on the south loop, and then drink and refill it again at the beginning of the north one. But that fill-up had to last 8 miles, so I was rationing it out.
I started to worry about water around mile 15, with three miles left before I could refill, no water left in my bottle and the sun high enough that the normally shady trail was bright, hot and sunny. I stuck to the shade as much as possible and slowed my pace down so I wasn't working so hard, but I was warm and tired and thirsty and slowing down made me feel almost... dizzy. It was a pretty rough couple of miles.
Finally, I got to water and stopped to soak my hat and my shirt, to refill my water bottle and to drink as much as I could. I had only two miles left and a full water supply, but I was still tired, still hot, and then my ipod died and I was overwhelmed with the feeling of how far I'd come. I knew (knew, in my bones) that I had just run 18 miles, and it was an oppressively exhausting knowledge. I almost, almost gave up.
But there was this family, a dad and mom running and two kids on bikes, that had passed me a few miles previously and then hit a turnaround and started back the other way. I ran into them as I was trudging a minute or so after my water refill, and I got a thumbs-up from the dad and mom, and the kids said "Good Job, lady!" They were so cute and so encouraging to a random stranger sweatily walking along that it made me feel like I was not alone and that, having come 18 miles, I could surely run a measly 2 more. So I ran. I shifted somehow from shuffle to jog and made it my last two miles with no music, just the sound of my breath and my own gasping promises to myself: "If you can just make it another 3/4 of a mile, then you get to stop running. Soon, soon, you will get to stop."
20 miles. It wasn't easy, but I made it.
Anyway, my essential long run gear includes the basics: shoes, dry-fit socks, running skirt, industrial strength sports bra, tech fabric tank top. It also includes the extras: shoe wallet with keys and ID, running belt with water bottle, electrolyte packets, Larabar and cell phone, Ipod, running hat, sunglasses.
Once I was all geared up, I hit the road a little bit late at 7:40. My long run route now is basically two loops. I do a loop from my house to the south end of the Fanno Creek Trail in Tualatin, then pass my house and do another loop out to the north end of the trail in Beaverton. The south loop is usually much shorter, but today I had to add two miles to it so that my total route would be twenty miles. That meant that by the time I hit the trailhead on my 12-mile Tigard-Beaverton loop, I'd already been running for an hour and half. And I could feel it.
I have run that north loop so many times that it's built into my muscle memory. I know exactly how far I've come and how far there is to go at any point on that trail. Hitting that north loop trailhead having already run 8 miles was hard. My body knew exactly how far it had yet to go and how tired it already was. Also, by then, it was starting to get hot, and I had to be really conscientious about water. There are a lot more opportunities to hydrate on the south loop than the north. There's only one drinking fountain on the whole north loop, and it's two miles in. So I had tried to drink and refill my water supply at least once on the south loop, and then drink and refill it again at the beginning of the north one. But that fill-up had to last 8 miles, so I was rationing it out.
I started to worry about water around mile 15, with three miles left before I could refill, no water left in my bottle and the sun high enough that the normally shady trail was bright, hot and sunny. I stuck to the shade as much as possible and slowed my pace down so I wasn't working so hard, but I was warm and tired and thirsty and slowing down made me feel almost... dizzy. It was a pretty rough couple of miles.
Finally, I got to water and stopped to soak my hat and my shirt, to refill my water bottle and to drink as much as I could. I had only two miles left and a full water supply, but I was still tired, still hot, and then my ipod died and I was overwhelmed with the feeling of how far I'd come. I knew (knew, in my bones) that I had just run 18 miles, and it was an oppressively exhausting knowledge. I almost, almost gave up.
But there was this family, a dad and mom running and two kids on bikes, that had passed me a few miles previously and then hit a turnaround and started back the other way. I ran into them as I was trudging a minute or so after my water refill, and I got a thumbs-up from the dad and mom, and the kids said "Good Job, lady!" They were so cute and so encouraging to a random stranger sweatily walking along that it made me feel like I was not alone and that, having come 18 miles, I could surely run a measly 2 more. So I ran. I shifted somehow from shuffle to jog and made it my last two miles with no music, just the sound of my breath and my own gasping promises to myself: "If you can just make it another 3/4 of a mile, then you get to stop running. Soon, soon, you will get to stop."
20 miles. It wasn't easy, but I made it.
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