Yesterday we had a nice morning at home before we visited the Apple store as Matt is researching future computers, and hit Lenscrafters as I am once again beside myself with a scratch right on my glasses (they rejected my plea to replace it gratis and I'm grappling with whether unsullied vision is worth $75 to me), before I went to work and Matt made several amazing pizzas (baked potato, Mediterranean, and veggie). Today, we slept in late (skipping yoga--I've had a cold this week and was up late working last night, and I think we were both ready to take it a little bit easy), read the Sunday paper, went for a walk, and then pre-made a Mexican casserole for later in the week. That, of course, is what I offer unto you. It's one of our favorites and a recipe I originally got from my sister-in-law, who also used to be a vegetarian. Here's how we usually make it:
Mexican Casserole 1 can kidney beans, drained 1 can black beans, drained 8 oz jar salsa or picante sauce About a cup of frozen or canned corn 1 cup sour cream 1 can diced tomatoes with chilies, not drained 2 cups of cooked rice 1/4 tsp black pepper 1 cup taco-flavored cheese (or monterey jack) 1 cup cheddar cheese
Combine all but the cheddar cheese in a casserole dish, mixing well with a spatula or wooden spoon. Sprinkle cheddar over the top and bake around 350 degrees for about 30-45 minutes, or until the cheese is bubbly. Or, if you're like me, broil until the cheese is melted, then scoop out a serving and finish heating it in the microwave.
We love it because it tastes great, is cheap and easy, and reheats really well. It's also great as a dip for tortilla chips, incidentally.
It's a funny story about this because I usually just kind of made it hit or miss from memory, but the second or third time I made it with Matt, I was curious just how far I had strayed from the recipe and so I got it out and followed it (I thought) to a T. Well, I realized I had gone wrong when Matt gagged down a few bites and then finally put down his fork and said, "I'm sorry, I can't do this. This is just inedible." What was wrong with it? Well, it was kind of like a variation on an old joke...Would you like a little Mexican casserole with your pepper? I couldn't figure out where I had gone wrong. I thought maybe it was because I'd used freshly ground pepper instead of the regular prepackaged variety that it had been so...potent. After that I substantially decreased the pepper and otherwise went back to just sort of assembling it from memory. Today, I had the recipe out again because I was using a different brand of picante sauce and wanted to be sure I had the measurement right. I wondered aloud to Matt, "Gee, I still can't figure out what went wrong that time...I mean, it says right here: 14 teaspoons of pepper." Matt looked at me a little oddly, then went and got a pen and defined the little "1" over the "/4," which I had somehow missed. So anyway, consider yourselves warned: that is ONE-FOURTH of a teaspoon of pepper, for those of you like me who apparently have no internal sense of reason by which these things might be governed.
In the form of an attempted break-in on our car. They drilled out the locks, but apparently didn't make it in, for which I suppose we can be thankful. We got another special dose of attitude from the police department as well, who seem to believe that people who are stupid enough to a) live in apartments instead of "rent a private home," as the officer bluntly suggested when our apartment was burlgarized, or b) have a Dodge Neon (which the second officer told me are the #1 stolen car in the country, even though it's not even in the top 10) get what they deserve. But. We're doing our best to take what measures we can to make ourselves safer and then just doing our best not to get overly worried about the rest. Our landlord has actually been very responsive and I think there are those who probably would have just said, "Welcome to DC."
I think we are both reevaluating our relationship with the city, and I don't know that we've come to any solid conclusions about whether we'd ultimately feel comfortable settling down here or whether we'd feel safer, say, across the river in Virginia or something. Since we've decided to stick out our lease here, we'll see what the next year hands us and go from there. Obviously our decision would be somewhat biased at this point.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Well, maybe I just needed something like a good old-fashioned burglary to shake me out of the self-centered contemplation of my navel and make me take a little ownership of my experience. Oddly enough, I have felt better in the past couple of days, more energetic and centered, even though immediately after finding out our stuff had been stolen I felt like collapsing at the thought that if ordinary life felt like too much effort, how was I going to muster the energy to contact each and every agency that needed to know that our financial security had been breached by the theft of one of our laptops? Or inform the organizations who had issued checks to us which were subsequently stolen? The only thing that seemed to have any clear answers was the theft of Matt's keyboard...we joked that there was only one person in DC we knew of that would possibly want to steal it.
But we did find the energy, and on the plus side, we've been overwhelmed by the support we've received from our neighbors (I posted a brief notice on the neighborhood's Yahoo message board and within an hour had received about 8 emails saying that they hadn't seen anything, but would keep an eye out, and to let them know if we needed anything). That was gratifying. We're also thankful that within the past couple weeks we decided to carry renter's insurance for the first time. So, minus a hefty deductible, we should end up not too far behind where we were before. And obviously, the fact that the crime itself was a) nonviolent and b) pretty minimal leaves us with a lot to be thankful for.
And, in the interest of being more proactive, I've started the process of applying to volunteer at RAINN, am running for section representative of the Health Law Society (figuring that if I'm not qualified for at least that, who is?), and am attending a public interest career fair on October 6th. Interesting incident of today was when one of my classmates--someone I would have pegged as being your more typical Type-A law student, though I don't know why--who asked me frankly if I was liking law school. I told him, frankly, no. He seemed immeasurably relieved. As in any situation, I think that it helps to know that you're not alone and also to feel like your angst might help somebody else feel less alienated.
And just a little product plug: when I first started law school, I ordered this bag (it was on sale then, okay?) in anticipation of schlepping my laptop along with a ton of law books everywhere. While it's of fine, sturdy construction, has plenty of pockets, is in fact just what I ordered, and the option of backpack or wheeled suitcase was initially just what I was looking for, I've realized why it was so hard to find: the option of wheels and the necessary internal frame mean that that sucker is HEAVY. Coupled with the fact that I usually have to climb a few flights of stairs between classes, and the backpack option left my neck and shoulders killing me while carrying it through the top loop when in suitcase mode was insurmountably awkward, I was kicking myself for the choice I'd made. On a whim, inspired by my brother who shunned the idea of paying $100 to upgrade to Windows XP Pro when I'd mistakenly ordered XP home (which isn't compatible with the school's network) in favor of just calling Dell and asking them to send me the new CDs for free (which they did), I decided to contact eBags and see if they would exchange it for me, even though their exchange policy states they will only accept unused goods. Lo and behold, they've emailed me a prepaid shipping label and I will get full exchange credit as soon as they receive the bag. Good merchandise and a great company! I guess it pays to ask.
I'll admit I'm still working at finding the balance here. As a friend put it to me, "It sounds like you have a love/hate relationship with DC." I would call that accurate. Right now DC and I are in a little bit of a stormy phase, getting used to each other's bad habits and irrationalities while still experiencing the thrill of infatuation now and then. As this friend also put it, "But you're going to have that anywhere you go." Also true. And when I look at the upsides of our life here (a beautiful, historic city; unparalleled opportunity to study the law in the place where it's made and executed; the first independent steps of creating our marriage), the downsides (crowded trains, hot sweaty walks, and understocked grocery stores that are few and far between) do seem petty, though they are there and they do add up.
Law school, another source of frustration, is something I'm also holding out to get better. My mom told me recently that a lawyer she had talked to said that the first year of law school is all about seeing how much they can frustrate you. In that sense, I guess I ought to be reassured that I'm right on target.
Otherwise, I still have my tearful moments of missing being in a place where I feel like I "belonged," where people knew me and I knew them and daily life--like shopping and eating and transporting--didn't feel like such a major undertaking, but then I remember how stressful it was to start nursing (let's not kid ourselves--how stressful it was to start, continue, and finish nursing!), and how I felt like I would never belong there or be good at that and by the end of it I felt like I had really hit my stride. So, I'm trying to count my blessings (among them a wonderful, sensitive husband who answers my irrational tears with hugs and good advice instead of bewilderment or frustration) and hang in there until I'm able to hit the ground running.
I'm doing much better today. The rent issues we were having with our landlord (which I was too frustrated about too blog about yesterday without offending the more tender language sensibilities of some of my readers) have been resolved, thanks to Matt; the memo assignment I've been struggling with isn't really going any better, but I'm learning to let it go. I'm clinging to the knowledge that my worst-case scenario is to flunk out of law school and work as a nurse for more than I'll probably make as a public-interest lawyer. And as I said, there are a couple of like-minded souls here and that's really all I can ask for.
Last night, the icing on the cake was that Matt suggested after school/work that we walk straight from the train station to The Old Siam, a Thai restaurant we've wanted to try for a little while. I hadn't had chicken curry since we moved, and it was certainly a welcome experience. We ate outside, relaxed and splurged a little bit, and it was just what I needed. A big thank you to Matt for always knowing just what will make me feel better! Sometimes it's a foot rub, sometimes it's dinner out, and sometimes it's a kick in the pants, but he's always on target.
Today, I only have two classes and after that and a study session, I'm going grocery shopping, which is always enough to cheer me up considerably. Current challenge: finding a place to buy cornhusks so we can make tortillas. We should have a pretty laid-back evening and then tomorrow I work; and my tight neck muscles are already looking forward to Sunday morning yoga!
And, on an even more exciting note: We booked our plane tickets for Christmas yesterday!
In other words, I'm finding law school frustrating. Not so much hard-frustrating, like you'd think it would be, the kind you could overcome with a healthy attitude toward a challenge. No, this is more of a mind-numbing frustration in which it becomes increasingly impossible to hold my focus. Trying to concentrate after you've been in law school all day is sort of like trying to walk on a foot that's fallen asleep. In part, I think this is due to the fact that first-year classes are notoriously dry and generic, and I get that. While I don't like it, I get it. What bothers me more is the atmosphere. While at first I was genuinely impressed by my classmates' accomplishments, and felt like there was a healthy spirit of community activism among us, that sense is being replaced by a creeping pessimism that the motivation behind these accomplishments may have had less to do with concerns for social justice than with admissions and resumes. I know, call me jaded, I can take it...It's not that I don't have or haven't had those concerns as well, because everybody does. It's just that I look at the people a year or two further along than I am and it seems increasingly like they're all flocking down a path I don't want any part of. I don't want to spend all my time wearing heels, kissing "the partners' " asses, and spouting big firm lingo; I feel like those things are the antithesis of why I went to law school, and they feel like big red flags telling me I'm going in the wrong direction.
I knew this disconnect was likely, and I probably should have realized it was inevitable, because I knew from the beginning that I don't want to be "a Lawyer." I want to be....whatever I end up being, with the added benefit of a law degree. The road to getting there is just starting to feel longer and lonelier. And I miss, with painful clarity, the world of nursing, where I never had to worry about being bored or feeling like my job mattered--if I was doing it right, I knew with certainty that it did. I certainly had P L E N T Y of other things to worry about, as all nurses do, but those two things were never concerns. Between that and the rape crisis line and Big Brothers Big Sisters, I guess I may have taken those elements of my life for granted, when now I'm realizing that they're far from a lock. To realize at the end of the day that you've spent 8 hours or more doing something that has had absolutely no impact on anybody whatsoever, and that you were bored out of your mind doing it, is a very sobering realization about how you spend your time.
Anyway. I work this weekend, which should be somewhat refreshing in that respect, and I've made contact with someone else at school who's interested in the same types of sexual assault and law related issues that I am, and we're hoping forge some sort of meaningful connection with some organizations here since there aren't any existing in the school right now. And I know that this is just a means to an end; I'll get through it, I'll find classes and activities that are meaningful to me, and then I'll get out and things will get better.
To all of you who are wondering how we fared last night, on our rare foray out of the apartment, we'll have you know that we enjoyed it very much. We started the evening by walking around Chinatown while we waited for a table at Matchbox (where, thanks to an exceptionally generous gift certificate, we were able to live it up by eating and drinking high on the hog); enjoying the energy of the downtown atmosphere, a little giddy to be "going out" together for the first time in a long time. We browsed through an eclectic Chinese grocery store and wandered back out on the street, very much enjoying the cool weather (and, in my case, very much celebrating the fact that I had decided against wearing a skirt--because especially as the sun went down, it got almost cold).
The more we spend time in DC, the more we love it; as our friend Hannah says, "it's less of a city than just a really big town." While the buildings and traffic and endless places to eat and be entertained give you a lot of the benefits and drawbacks of a big city, there isn't the neverending crush of people and buildings that makes a lot of other cities feel cramped and sunless. And of the buildings that are there, so many of them are historically interesting; and because of the requirement that nothing be taller than the Washington monument, there's a sense of space and openness that you don't get in a lot of other places. We were able to enjoy a nice view of the sky as the sun went down, and by that time our table was ready and we went into the restaurant.
One of our favorite things right off the bat was the atmosphere. Everything was classy and nice without being intimidating or pretentious. We were happy to dig into delicious food while reasonably casually dressed and not feel like we didn't fit in. The music was loud enough to almost drown out the diners around us, but not so loud that we couldn't carry on a conversation ourselves. We were amused to listen to the conversation of the couple next to us--obviously on a first date, the guy did all the talking and on such assorted fascinating topics as himself, his grades in law school, and, of all things, stem cell research. (He went to Georgetown; that probably explains a lot.) Talk about sinking fast. They were probably five or six years older than us and I will say that I was awash with gratitude that I've escaped the necessity to participate in "the dating scene." It combines a number of the things I hate most, such as meeting new people, making small talk, and getting dressed up; I really felt for the poor girl next to us, forced to listen to this bonehead rattle on about himself without being able to get a word in edgewise. It makes me feel so fortunate that instead of a serious of anxiety-provoking encounters with people like him, I have a best friend and constant companion who (for those of you who know Matt will agree) only enlivens and enriches any situation in which we might find ourselves. Awww.
A note about the food: sausage, onion, kalamata olive and garlic pizza; a couple of brewskis for the gentleman and a Gingersnap (ginger syrup, pineapple rum, and Sprite) for me, topped off with chocolate chip banana-bread pudding split between the two of us. Ah, gift certificates...how we love leaving the table with stuffed bellies and no detriment to our own checking account!
After that, we stopped by a gathering assembled by Hannah and her boyfriend, which was really a very nice time. It was a good opportunity to get a glimpse of an apartment in which our entire living space would fit inside the bathroom, and around 11pm--way past our usual bedtime--we hopped on the Metro and headed for home. Sort of an interesting thing happened on the Metro when we saw an older man talking with a girl of maybe 12 who was on the train with her 5-year-old sister and who seemed to be lost. We both had kind of a funny feeling about it and Matt voiced my thoughts when he asked me quietly, "If he gets off at the same stop as them, do you want to get off too?" Impulsively, we did, and were wondering what we were going to do next when the man led them up to the Metro station manager and asked them to help the girls get home. We breathed a sigh of relief and got back on the train to go home. You never can be too careful these days, with men climbing in women's windows and other ones hiding in boys' closets.
Following our night of decadence, we started out this morning in the oppositve vein with a 9am class at Capitol Hill Yoga. Having been experiencing a lot of tightness in my neck and shoulders, compliments of my new occupation as law student, the hour-and-a-half class felt wonderful. It also gave us a chance, on the bike ride to and from, to fantasize wildly about the rowhouses in the more affluent section of Capitol Hill. It was a perfect morning for a bike ride, and the shady streets, lovely old houses, and grassy parks were overshadowed only by the breakfasty smells coming out of Jimmy T's, the type of humble local joint that always catches our eye. Alas, they are a cash-only establishment and we had none. Brokenhearted, because we've wanted to try them for awhile (they serve both greasy breakfasts and a daily vegetarian special, which we feel fits perfectly with our own eclectic style of eating), we went home and made good on our promise to make those banana-walnut pancakes, since the sour milk was calling from the fridge. They were very good, and now we have some for the freezer as well. Other things we've made lately include our first batch of homemade refried beans and homemade peanut butter. We got the refried beans recipes from Tammy's Recipes (which contains a ton of helpful and informative recipes and is run by one of the more gentle and thoughtful orthodox religious women bloggers [I think she may be Jewish?], who blogs intelligently about cooking and homebirth, among other things), and it is as follows:
Refried Beans
1 1/4 cups dried pinto beans, soaked overnight in enough water to cover 7 1/2 cups water 2 onions, peeled and cut in half 10 cloves garlic, peeled 2 Tablespoons butter 2 onions, finely chopped 2 teaspoons ground cumin 1 teaspoon ground coriander 1 teaspoon chili powder small bunch of fresh cilantro, chopped 3 garlic cloves, minced salt 2 ounces feta cheese fresh cilantro, for garnish
1. Drain pinto beans, and rinse and drain again. Heat water in large pot until boiling. Add soaked beans, two halved onions, and ten whole garlic cloves. Return to boiling and simmer, uncovered, for about 90 minutes, or until beans are very soft and water is almost all absorbed.
2. Melt butter in large skillet or stock pot. Add the two chopped onions, the cumin, ground coriander, and chili powder. Cook until onions are soft and translucent, about 15-20 minutes, adding water if needed to prevent scorching.
3. Stir in fresh cilantro, and the three remaining garlic cloves. Start adding beans, a spoonful at a time, frying for a couple minutes and mashing with a fork or potato masher as you add them. Continue until all beans have been added.
4. Lower heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until beans have thickened to consistency desired, about 30-40 minutes. Season with salt and ladle into serving dishes, topping with feta cheese and fresh cilantro for garnish.
We really, really liked these. We served them with tostadas last time, but would eat them plain or with cheese as well. The recipe above yields about 6 cups, so it's an incredibly cheap food when you get down to it, with very little fat and lots of protein--great for vegetarians. And, as my mom points out, great for sitting around farting with your spouse afterward! (I'll include a picture of the beans, rather than a picture of that.) For the peanut butter, just combine roasted peanuts, a little salt, and enough vegetable oil to lubricate and whirl it around in the food processor until it's smooth. We keep it in the fridge but it's still very spreadable. This goes onto sandwiches and all kinds of peanut sauce and curry, as well as into morning smoothies, which (since we're doing recipes here) are as follows:
Morning Smoothies
1 cup of each of the following: Milk Vanilla yogurt Berries (fresh or frozen; we like either strawberries and raspberries, or just raspberries)
Probably about 1/4 cup peanut butter 1 banana
Process in the blender until smooth. Serves 2.
Delicious. Matt used to have these waiting when I would come home from work in the morning, and I would practically drool in the car just thinking about them.
Mild Red Chile Sauce (From The Mexican Cookbook; somewhat redacted and with my comments in parentheses)
Ingredients: 5 large fresh mild chilies, such as New Mexico or ancho (we've found pretty much anything will work, besides those small, wrinkly, unbelievably hot habaneros) 2 cups vegetable/chicken stock (I think we used water) 1 tbsp masa harina or 1 crumbled corn tortilla (masa is the powdered-corn base for tamales; it's what really sends this over the edge and makes it taste like an authentically Mexican sauce, as opposed to just spicy spaghetti sauce) Large pinch of ground cumin 1-2 garlic cloves, finely chopped Juice of 1 lime Salt
1. Roast chiles under the broiler, turning so that all sides become somewhat blackened. You'll probably hear them pop as they burst in the heat 2. Place chilies in a heatproof bowl and pour boiling water over them. Cover and let cool 20min. 3. Place the stock/water in a pan and bring to a simmer. 4. When the chilies are cooled, swelled up, and softened, remove with a slotted spoon. Remove the seeds, then cut or tear the flesh into pieces and place in a food processor or blender. Process to a puree, then mix in the hot stock. 5. Place the chili and stock mixture in a pan. Puree the masa or tortilla with enough water to make a thin paste, then add along with remaining ingredients. Cook for a few minutes until thickened, adding salt to taste.
This is a pretty flexible recipe--we've used all kinds and quantities of chilies, and this last time Matt added tomatoes, with delicious results. We were upset to find that our last batch molded after just a few weeks--you wouldn't think mold could stand the heat, but apparently it can. Just goes to show that you should probably pick up 7 or 8 bags of blue corn chips and Aldi's and get it while the gettin' is good.
Tonight we're planning to use up the remainder of the refried beans, some leftover rice, and some of Matt's hot sauce in bean and cheese burritos, which we haven't made before but which may have to make it into the rotation if all goes well.
And Best Buy still has our TV, but as you can see, we haven't exactly been bored yet.
Ahhhh. Today we're feeling glad not to be taking off for greener pastures or bigger cities or more exciting endeavors, but rather just enjoying the company of one another and the cats. And, of course, doing some coooking--a weekend wouldn't be a weekend without a little food prep. We got up late and made a batch of waffles, making enough to freeze because we had a gallon of milk of questionable integrity and I have it on good Internet authority that such things are fine to use in waffles, pancakes, or anywhere else you'd use buttermilk. Then, after a walk to and through the Eastern Market (on our first deliciously cool fall day in Washington), we made pesto, Matt charred some chilis and made hot sauce, and we celebrated by slapping some of that pesto on grilled cheese sandwiches. Tonight we're actually going out--to a restaurant called Matchbox, compliments of a gift certificate from our good friend Hannah, whom we are actually stopping over to see after dinner. I know what you're thinking--two social events in a weekend, let alone in the same evening--aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves? To which I would reply, that's why it's a good thing we slept in AND took a nap today.
Otherwise, right now Matt is reading and I'm furiously wrestling with the urge to bake cookies or use up the rest of that milk in a batch of Banana-Walnut Pancakes instead of work on a writing assignment (present blog post excepted, of course) that's due in a week or so. We're also working our way through a pot of coffee since the idea of a second nap is appealing, but probably not entirely prudent at this point in the afternoon. The cats are in the windowsill enjoying the fall breeze, and we're all basking in the kind of peaceful afternoon that doesn't come quite as often these days, but which makes us feel so happy and thankful to be a newlywed/cat family.
To sum it up...not really all that much, but I'll give you a random smattering since our weekend is intentionally uninteresting so that we can recuperate from our past travels, and gear up for school and work, which is definitely ratcheting up in intensity for both of us.
The Counting Crows' performance at Farm Aid was incredible, we can now fairly say. We're sorry we missed it, but don't know whether if we had it to do over again, we would have done it any differently. It was just too damn hot. But the band looked and sounded phenomenal and we're really itching to catch them by themselves around here soon.
The traffic in DC has become astronomically worse as Congress is back in session and a variety of other people seem to have flocked back to the city...so we've decided to ride the subway together mornings and evenings instead of Matt driving and dropping me off/picking me up, which is what we have been doing. At this point, it' s about the same length of time, nobody has to grapple with road rage, it saves a little money--and, as we like to say, it's greener that way. We get on together in the morning around 7:45 and Matt rides with me all the way to school, then continues on several more stops into Virginia where he catches a bus to work. In the evening, he calls me when he gets on the train, I leave school for the Metro, and meet him on the last car of the train. It all seems so foolproof now that we've done it all of once, doesn't it? Although, I think we both had second thoughts when our train this morning was stopped and delayed because some kid had decided to hop the turnstile.
Also pursuant to our objective of spending more time at home and less time in traffic, we've been working on shopping and cooking in 2-week rather than 1-week cycles. This necessitates some tricky figuring as far as what has to be made early in the cycle and what can be made late, and I'm sure there will be some trial and error associated. We're trying to incorporate a couple of meals each week that we can make ahead of time (such as on the weekends) and refrigerate or freeze; most nights we don't get home until around 6:30 if we're lucky, eat around 7:30, and by the time we get ready for bed a little after nine, the evening is pretty well shot. Friday nights, we'll plan to either try something new or eat up leftovers; and on the weekend we'll cook something more time-consuming, along with the stuff we want to prepare ahead. So far, we've been really happy with the fact that most things we cook translate into about 4-5 servings, which is perfect for dinner and then lunch at school/work the next day. Anyway, as with all new endeavors on which we embark, you can be sure we'll keep you posted as to how it goes.
Okay, so King Tut wasn't actually physically at the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia (hence, in hindsight, the cleverly worded "The Treasures of King Tut" exhibition), but we did enjoy the opportunity to see more ancient Egyptian stuff than we've seen in one place before, as well as an all-too-brief glimpse at Philadelphia. The town itself was old and beautiful with a lot of green space; very reminiscent of all the things we liked about Boston. It's also surrounded, not by suburbs, but by genuine small towns with local eateries priced accordingly. For dinner, we split an incredible sausage pizza, served on paper plates with no utensils in sight, at an excellent hole-in-the-wall before enjoying the scenic drive down to camp in the Delaware Water Gap--probably our second-favorite part of the trip, despite the fact that we did get a little trickle of rain while we slept and it was too wet to make the famous Boy Scout Three-Match Fire. We don't care what anybody says about New Jersey; the part that we drove through, and slept in, was gorgeous. As Kip would say, "See for yourself."
The next morning, we shipped out around 7am to drive to NYC, which was actually a shockingly smooth and traffic-free drive, but not without making a pit stop that resulted in our very favorite part of the trip; breakfast, at what we have come to regard as an East-coast rarity: a true greasy spoon. Rose's Place, serving mountains of eggs (and actually cooked soft and wet, just like I asked for!), homefries, big hunks of sausage, toast (rye and raisin, respectively), excellent coffee, and all for around $5 a person. Nor were they stingy with the half-and-half, which is something of a pet peeve of ours. We were actually very proud of our frugality the entire trip, spending less than $13 total on each meal, for a grand total of under $40. Of course, this savings was very quickly eaten into by the almost $20 we had to spend on tolls, but we can only control so much.
On to Farm Aid. Despite the pleasure we gleaned from being in the (veryclose) company of an eclectic mix of country fans in daisy dukes and cowboy boots, former Deadheads, unwashed hippies, and the Pottery-Barn set hoping to catch a glimpse of Dave Matthews, we threw in the towel before we got to see the Counting Crows (though, unfortunately, not until after we had to sit through the Nelsons, Jr, who tried to pack country and metal and just about everything in between into a set whose only vocals seemed to be "Uhhhhhhhhh"). The only reference I've heard to their performance is buried in the article linked to above, and it doesn't sound like we missed a ton. By the time we had sat on the ground in the scorching heat for over three hours, the prospect of doing it any longer just wasn't balancing with the prospect of maybe getting to hear them play, for a little while, especially after the ass-kicking sunburn we received the weekend before. Likewise, the water in our Nalgene was getting very low and very warm, and we couldn't stomach the prospect of paying $6 a bottle, especially at a festival purported to celebrate the underdog and grass roots. So we packed up our stuff and promised ourselves that the next time the band comes within 100 miles and the tickets are less than 100 dollars, we'll go for it. (It's probably good we set that limit, because they're in NYC next week for a very small, already sold-out show for which tickets on Craigslist are starting at almost $400).
But, we enjoyed the experience and were happy we went; we got to see New York again, hear some live music, eat some organic flatbread pizza ($5 per person, which is more quality food than you can usually buy for twice that much at any concert or festival I've ever been to)... and boy, did it feel good to get back to some air conditioning.
...since I have been a recalcitrant poster lately, and mostly because posting is a more attractive option than buckling down and briefing the cases to be found within the less- fascinating- than- it- is- expensive Problems in Contract Law, which is what I should be doing, I thought I'd bridge the gap between now and when I can show off pictures of us baking in the heat at Farm Aid by offering a book review. Reviews, actually, in that there are two of them...not so much in that they offer much in the way of actual content analysis.
I mentioned a long time ago that we'd begun reading books together. This means aloud, to each other, and substitutes for the time we used to spend watching reruns of Six Feet Under or Arrested Development or otherwise multiplying our indebtedness to our local Mr. Movies. It also makes a useful bedtime routine for those of us who may have retained a night nurse's resistance to physically "winding down" in the evening (as my mother would call it). We've tried a variety of books, some of which lend themselves to it better than others, but none we have found so far have done so as well as the books by Bill Bryson.
A Walk in the Woods (or as I like to call it, for obvious reasons, The Bear Book) was the first of Bryson's that we read together. Not only was it witty and entertaining (Bryson has a very dry sense of humor that makes sense when you consider that he has alternated living his adult life in Britain and on the East Coast), it also rekindled (for Matt) / initiated (for me) an interest in nature and camping and general good old doing-without in the wilderness. It was this book that ignited our desire to go to the Delaware Water Gap, where we camped this weekend, alongside the Appalachian Trail--the hiking of which, by Bryson and a companion, forms the basis for the entire book. It's not a particularly sensational book, but it made us laugh, and want to camp and hike, and also raised awareness for certain environmental tragedies currently befalling the American landscape. We're now in the midst of Notes from a Small Island, which Bryson has written about a trip he took through Britain. I find this to contain an even more incisive and hilarious degree of wit than the first book. Upon meeting a fellow boarder at a house where he's staying for the night, Bryson remarks about the person's name, "But it was one of those names only British people have – Colin Crapspray or Bertram Pantyshield." I had to put down the book and laugh, hard, for a good five minutes. It reminded me of when my brother used to hear me laughing out loud at books I was reading in bed by myself, and yell across the hallway what a nerd that made me. Ah, some things never change; but I actually do post these specifically with my brother in mind, because I think that the casual style and exceptionally dry wit of these books seem like something that would appeal to him. To anybody, really--we highly recommend them.
Hey, I'm just checking in from school to let everybody know that we are back, safe and sound, but that I don't have access to my pictures just now and so I'll probably update on the happenings of our weekend later tonight. For now, suffice it to say that we had a wonderful but EXHAUSTING time (and that's with coming back a good 5 hours before we had planned!), so we came home and fell into bed about 9:30 last night and had to drag ourselves out at 6:30 this morning to carry on those insignificant portions of our lives (AKA work and school) that seem to take place more or less routinely between weekend adventures. So--check back soon, more to come!
Today Matt and the cats stayed in and slaved over house and home, while I went to work from 11 in the morning until 7pm. It's a nice shift because it doesn't throw off my sleep schedule in either direction, and I still get home and have a little evening left. Work went really well, and I came home to a spotless house and one of the best dinners I've ever had--Matt had made tamales, which are always a favorite, and this time, in addition to sour cream and homemade salsa, we had leftover pibil which he had the brilliance to grace them with. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. What a husband! And then, what better to chase away the burn of a few too many tamales with spicy pork, than a dish of semifreddo? Nothing that we could think of, so that's what we had. The semifreddo ended up with more the consistency of a permanent milkshake, which I'm not sure is what's intended, but we aren't complaining. We feel like one could almost decrease the honey from 3/4 of a cup to a 1/2; the flavor isn't overwhelming, but it's certainly a very, very rich presence, especially in the presence of all that butterfat. Yum. Life is so good, even if I did temporarily forget that this morning in my despair over the fact that the (eczema/dermatitis/staph--it depends on who you ask) under my nose hasn't gotten any better... but. You can only ask for so much in life.
From Tom Philpott at Grist, an excellent source of environmental news, commentary--and, occasionally, recipes.
Honey semifreddo 3/4 cup raw local honey 3 large eggs, yolks and whites separated 2 cups chilled heavy cream A pinch of sea salt
With a whisk or electric mixer in a small bowl, beat the honey and yolks until thick and pale. Set aside. In another bowl, whisk egg whites until they hold stiff peaks. In a large chilled metal bowl, whip chilled cream and a pinch of salt until cream holds soft peaks. Gently, carefully fold in the egg yolk-honey mixture until fully incorporated. Gently and carefully fold in the egg whites until fully incorporated. Transfer to freezing container and freeze for at least four hours.
Yields about a quart and a half of semifreddo.
Note: To adapt this recipe to other flavor schemes, replace the honey with about 3/4 cup raw organic sugar, whipping it into the egg yolks. Fold in other flavorings at the end: ground nuts such as pistachios, cooled, melted chocolate, loosened with cream, fruit purees, etc.
And last but not least, here's Patches helping Matt practice the horn.
Sweaty, sandy, and sunburned (oh, so sunburned), but we're back. As promised, here are some pictures of Assateague Island:
We left DC around 8 in the morning and got to Assateague before noon. We enjoyed the lovely, scenic drive (and the opportunity to drive over 55 for a change!) and decided that anybody who lives in DC and claims "we don't live near any good beaches" needs to move to either Iowa or Wisconsin to get a perspective on what it's like not to live near any good beaches. When you can leave after breakfast and get there before lunch, it's near enough for us!
From there, we checked in at the ranger station and hiked down the beach to our campsite. That's a three-hour hike. In the sand. And the sun. Anybody who's never walked on sand for three hours is missing out on a real treat. I can't complain, because Matt carried the tent and all the other gear (though he let me try it on for several yards when we hiked back today) while I just carried a backpack stuffed with clothes. He did his best to pretend that this was a fair division of labor, but I told him it was like when my family went to Disneyworld when I was two and my mom gave my brother and me our own "suitcases" to carry. They were lunchboxes.
The ocean was beautiful and the perfect temperature, and we saw plenty of wild horses within the first hour. We hit just one real sticking point, which was that the park literature had specified that there was a fire ring at our campsite and so we had brought onions and potatoes along for dinner, but when we got there--no fire ring. The idea of eating raw onions and potatoes wasn't especially appealing, so we did what anybody else would do: talked to strangers. We (okay, Matt) struck up a conversation with a very friendly native Marylander who invited us to share his family's campfire and also entertained us by catching a baby sand shark. AND I saw my very first shooting star, something I've waited ages for. I told Matt, just when I thought our lives were as perfect as they could get, we go to the fricking seashore for the weekend and see shooting stars and wild horses! I've never actually sat down and made a list of things I want to do before I die, but if I have, those are two things that would have been on it--in addition to seeing King Tut and a live performance of the Counting Crows. I feel like a lucky, lucky girl.
Other than that, we got up this morning and hiked back (which seemed to go much more quickly) and stopped and had breakfast/lunch at a local place near the island. The breakfast was so-so but the cream of crab soup was AMAZING. And, because a post wouldn't be a post unless I showed you what we had for supper, here it is: Stir-Fried Vegetables with Coconut Curry Sauce. The semifreddo is in the freezer at present, but I'm a little worried about it because the recipe only specified "heavy cream," so I bought what the label called "table cream," but I think now that Matt was right and I should have bought "whipping cream," because I was unable to form the requisite soft peaks while beating. We'll see.
And lastly, in case you all have emulated our example and have been using homemade rags, but wonder "How do they keep those old shreds of underwear smelling April-fresh all the time?" --here's your answer.
Yesterday we had a nice morning at home before we visited the Apple store as Matt is researching future computers, and hit Lenscrafters as I am once again beside myself with a scratch right on my glasses (they rejected my plea to replace it gratis and I'm grappling with whether unsullied vision is worth $75 to me), before I went to work and Matt made several amazing pizzas (baked potato, Mediterranean, and veggie). Today, we slept in late (skipping yoga--I've had a cold this week and was up late working last night, and I think we were both ready to take it a little bit easy), read the Sunday paper, went for a walk, and then pre-made a Mexican casserole for later in the week. That, of course, is what I offer unto you. It's one of our favorites and a recipe I originally got from my sister-in-law, who also used to be a vegetarian. Here's how we usually make it:
