bffaeaeae...

I have never been one who finds it easy to make friends. It's always been hard for me to find someone with which I can be infinitely comfortable and share everything with. I did find one once, but then I went and married him and now he doesn't count. Now, I don't want to neglect the many wonderful friends I have had, but the problem is that they never seem to stay in my vicinity for long. My life is marked by goodbyes, and I move around a lot. I don't see this fact changing any time soon. It's hard to maintain a close friendship when you are anything but. My best friends from my hometown are over 300 miles away nowadays. This post makes no sense, but basically what I am trying to say is that it's really hard to make friends after college. All of a sudden you have to make plans with people weeks in advance (I admit I am extremely guilty of this, too) in order to hang out. No more showing up at their door with a six pack, some gummi worms and a comedy to watch. And even in college I found it nearly impossible to make and keep friends of my own. Sometimes I think I'm so bad at it that I find it hard to believe I have EVER made a friend. Someone should write a making friends guide for adults. I would totally read that.

i propose a roast!

Can I just exclaim for a moment about my love of roasting? No, not making fun of people in front of an audience in a loving way, but the process - the exquisite art - of putting various combinations of food into the oven for a nice long time and allowing them to reach new heights of flavor and depth. Some people are afraid of the oven. It's intimidating because it seems too intense. Like a cooking method your grandma did and therefore way to complicated and time-consuming for amateur chefs.

Seriously, though, it's not. I like to think of the oven as doing for cooking what washer/dryers did for laundry and what dishwashers did for dishes: it takes the work OUT of it. You simply arrange some veggies, meats, or baked goods in a dish and let the oven do the work for you! Plus, I would argue that you simply cannot develop the same kind of flavor through any other method. For example, in the recipe below I can't think of another way to make the roasted fennel, shallots, garlic and tomatoes so rich and sweet and soft on the stove.

So, as a kitchen amateur/wannabe genius kitchen innovator, I am here to tell you oven-roasting is your friend. Here is my most recent Sunday night creation:

Penne with Roasted Vegetables, Heirloom Tomatoes and Italian Sausage

1 lb. bulk sweet/hot italian sausage (I get 1/2 lb. of each, can use pork or chicken)
2 large bulbs fennel, sliced into thin wedges
3 large shallots, sliced
6 cloves garlic, peeled
4 heirloom tomatoes, halved
8 oz. chopped mushrooms
1 tbsp. tomato paste
1/2 C. white wine
1 lb. whole wheat penne pasta, cooked and drained
1/2 C. chopped italian parsley
1/2 C. shredded parmesan cheese
1 tsp. herbes de provence
1 tsp. dried oregano
1 tsp. garlic powder
olive oil
salt and pepper

Pre-heat oven to 450 degrees. Toss fennel, garlic, tomatoes and shallots in olive oil, dried herbs and spices, and salt and pepper. Arrange on one or two baking sheets lined with parchment, tomatoes cut-side down. Roast for 30-40 minutes, tossing halfway through cook time. In the meantime, heat 1 tsp. olive oil in dutch oven and add sausage. Cook until just browned and lay on plate lined with paper towels to drain fat. Add mushrooms and saute until softened. Stir in tomato paste and cook for 2 minutes. Add roasted shallots and fennel and saute 3-4 minutes. Stir in wine and scrape all browned bits from bottom of pan. Bring mixture to a boil and add tomatoes with all accumulated juice, then garlic from skin and stir in. Add sausage to pot, stir, cover halfway and simmer 10 minutes. Serve over pasta and sprinkle with parsley and parmesan.

This dish is deeply-flavored and just great comfort food. It's pretty healthy, too! I use lean chicken sausage and flax seed pasta, and of course olive oil is good for your heart! When tomatoes aren't in season, use drained canned tomatoes and roast them the same way. Save the juice to add to sauce if necessary. You can also substitute the wine for vinegar like balsamic or use red wine for a richer, darker sauce. It's so fun to play with food!

stuck-o

I am feeling trapped right now and I don't like it. It's not a good feeling to know that no matter what, you have to keep doing what you are doing, at least in the short term. And really, it's for my own good, but I hate hate hate it. Especially since this is not really what I want to be doing and it's not really helping me on paper. Frustration.

blue...and it's all my fault

I suppose it's because I'm a Scorpio-moon. Or maybe it's because I was an only child with busy parents. It could also be that I am sometimes intensely over-dramatic. Whatever the reason, there are two things about me that I rarely discuss with people. One: I am sad and lonely a lot. Two: Sometimes I think I like it that way. I often subject myself to books, music, movies that I know will make me weep from my soul. I can get sad about so many different things. If I am looking for it, you can bet I will find it somewhere near by. Today for example, I heard a song (Rosie Thomas' "Farewell") and thought about how sad I might be if I listened to it after losing a loved one. Wow. There you go.

Being sad/lonely is such a strong and romantic way to feel. It's rich with emotion, it's something you can sink your teeth into. I suppose sometimes when I find myself reminiscing about useless old times that are long gone or missing people who are no longer in my life, I am looking for something around which to wrap my emotional self. Maybe my life is missing color and instead of choosing yellow or red I settle on blue, because it's easier. It really is easier. For me. To be sad. And the funny thing is that most people would probably describe me as "sunny" or "positive." And that's there. But truthfully I lean more toward brooding, morbid, and depressed most of the time.

I am definitely an escapist and in times of stress or sadness, I often dream of where I would rather be, where I might feel better. Today, in a somewhat sad and scary moment, I found myself daydreaming of such places. Normally I conjure up an image of a "home" I lived in once, or I think of England - which felt more like home to me than a lot of places - or of a place of fantasy like a tropical island. Today, while doing the dishes though, the first escape that came to mind was a library. A big, old, musty dark library with a million books, kind of like the one from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. For some reason that seemed like the safest and most comforting place to be at the moment. I am weird.

"exiled" to...my village?

There is a new show on MTV that I find incredibly insensitive called "Exiled." The premise is that they take those horribly spoiled and ignorant young girls from "My Super Sweet Sixteen" and send them for a week to a developing community, ostensibly to teach them a lesson about how bad it can really be, and about being responsible and grateful for the lives they are privileged to lead. To be honest, at first I had a glimmer of hope for this show. I thought hey, maybe this will serve the purpose of exposing the world to the issues of poverty, hunger, lack of clean water and environmental degradation that are so prominent in many developing countries. Maybe this will be a good thing!

No, not exactly. First of all, how f***ed up is it that the worst places they can "exile" these girls are in actual places where people LIVE? It's not like they are sending them to extreme climates or rough terrain, or places where there is very little life. These are just poor villages of indigenous populations where people still work to accomplish every task required for living. This show makes it all about the third-world people teaching the rich, privileged American girls a lesson. There doesn't seem to be any aspect designed to raise awareness about the particular troubles facing the areas visited, and the saddest part to me is that it is the first world that causes many of the hardships they face.

And another thing: why is it that they only send girls out to be "punished" for their evil, selfish ways? There were guys on that sweet sixteen show, weren't there? Was it simply a coincidence or is it just more fun to watch silly frivolous girls be sent into unfamiliar situations and taught about the "real world?" I think it's the latter. America likes to watch women get what's coming to them. This is from blog Snark Food:

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I LOVE the concept of MTV’s upcoming Reality TV show “Exiled”! Remember all of the super-spoiled, insufferable birthday girls from MTV’s “My Super Sweet Sixteen”? Remember how you wanted to ship them off to a third-world country? Well, MTV has done it for you!!! Payback begins Monday, August 25th. Here’s the trailer for the not-so-sweet reality check for the obnoxious little bratz! I might actually watch this one! Extra points for the tribes and families who had to put up with the ‘lil divas!

As someone on Feministing put it:

Why is it always women who end up on these shows? Where are the guys who piss off college, spend all day hung over and only clear up long enough to get drunk again? No, girls are the lazy ones who need to be taught a lesson.

So true. Are women the only ones who slack off after high school and live in the lap of luxury at their parent's expense? I doubt it.

I just want to say that some people - who will not be named here - are really hot and sexy. These people - who I absolutely refuse to name - are also going to be starring in Little Shop of Horrors tomorrow night and I love them a lot! They also write adorable songs for me when I am sad and in general are pretty awesome. That is all.

the oddity of my kitties

I have two cats: Bear (formerly Jacques) and Mimi. Mimi is more like most cats. She is playful and loving one minute, finnicky and jumpy the next. She is adorable and tiny, though, and we love her. Then there is Bear. First of all, he needs species re-assignment surgery, because I know he would say he is a dog born in a cat's body. He needs constant love and attention. He lays on his belly all morning and evening in the entry way in hopes that one of us will come by and lovingly stroke his tender underside. He sleeps on our feet, chests, faces at night, and when he feels like he is done with our sleepy time, he stands on us and licks our faces or meows until we are awake. He is big and loud and he bounds around the house like a golden retriever. Is there any way for me to express the special place these animals have in my heart? Probably not. But I just love them.

Bear and Mimi, bird-hunting from our kitchen window.

Slow down, food!

P and I visited Slow Food Nation this weekend. This was basically a glorified farmer's market with a huge community garden in the middle. It was fun to see lettuce growing with City Hall in the background. It also made me realize how citified I have become since moving to SF. The fact that seeing some growing things in mounds of dirt in the middle of a concrete jungle excited me was...sort of sad.

I grew up in suburbia where the closest I got on a regular basis to seeing things growing was the grass on my front lawn. But I can't recall ever being stirred when seeing a garden or other such place before now. Somehow, the earth's power to spring forth beauty and nourishment was not foreign to me then as it is now. I have this sad longing for the days when I lived a little closer to nature. Close enough to smell the ocean on the wind or to ride my bike through a field of golden grass. I feel it like a hole in my heart.

I did, however, have the best ham sandwich ever (with espresso mayo!) and bought some beautiful baby shitake mushrooms, three gorgeous ripe Meyer lemons, a tiny disc of creamy organic goat cheese, and some glorious peaches (see cobbler debacle below). I sat in the sun with my best friend in the world, observed (and discussed) some of the more outrageous attendees, and felt, if only for a little while, more connected to the planet and to myself. Not bad for a Sunday outing!

adventures in cooking and baking

I have made some interesting food discoveries in the last month. I have always been an adventurous cook. My mother-in-law praises my risk-taking in the kitchen, but that's probably because she spent the last 30 years cooking for picky boys who tend to like boring food. :-) Anyway, to start with something that turned out well, a few weeks ago I came home determined to use some of the extra food in my fridge. This always incites the riskiest risk-taking in cooking for me. I had some left-over mashed potatoes, some bulk hot Italian sausage, some very ripe tomatoes and a few other random ingredients. This I turned into a sausage and tomato ragu with cannellini beans over a mashed potato pancake. It was marvelous. The ragu was deep-flavored and fresh-tasting, and the pancake was crispy on the outside and creamy in the middle. Marvelous.

Then, just last night in fact, I decided to make a peach cobbler to make use of the 5 beautiful white and yellow peaches I had picked up at the farmer's market on Sunday. I was making an "easy" cobbler, where instead of cutting cold butter into a dough, you simply make a batter and pour over melted butter directly into the baking dish and don't mix. Then you pour the fruit over the batter and, theoretically, the batter will rise to the top and turn golden brown. Well, everything was going smoothly until my adventurous streak kicked in. I was simmering the peaches in sugar and lovely Meyer lemon juice, when I thought "Hey! What about a blueberry peach cobbler?" I had just bought some organic frozen blueberries and thought I would add a few to the mix. No no no no no. Such a travesty. I basically ended up with a cobbler that looked like squid ink with some kind of fish guts in it. Wow. It was horrifying. Please, don't ever try this at home.

The nice thing about taking risks in the kitchen is that they really aren't risks. There is nothing at stake but our breakfast/lunch/dinner/dessert, and I always learn a lot. Especially from the mistakes. Plus, cooking puts me in my zen place. I can come home having had a terrible day and cooking gives me everything I need. I can think through the day's dilemmas, or I can choose to focus on the food and not think about them. I can cook an old stand-by and feel confident and experienced, or I can delve into new territory and see where the recipes take me. And then there is the satisfaction of being able to cook tasty, nutritious food for myself and my partner. Food that comes from my heart and says "I love you" much more than words can.

Will post the ragu recipe soon!