Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Still crazy after all these ears.
I used to bike around the neighborhood. I used to party with the girls on the way to the bars, under-aged, it didn’t matter. Mistakes get made and you realize that you’ve spent way too much time thinking, not knowing. Just when I’ve accepted the passage of another year, that year has passed. I know, I know, the best is yet to come, but what about today and yesterday?
I bought sweet corn and grilled those Silver Queens out in the DC sky. Some friends, the sun, the birds and I sat, looking, watching for the city to surprise us. We didn’t find much, just the amazing smell of cooking sweet corn and garlic cloves. We found tradition and nothing that you find in a pot of boiling water. We found the flavor we hoped for.
Laughing, probably with corn in my teeth, I said again, “We’re not getting any saner.” Maybe it was a story about a kid and her dad singing Roy Orbison on the way to school or maybe something about a lost shoe on 7th Street. They’re all the same story, really. A perspective and an impulse. Maybe a little smile and some embarrassment.
With every passing day, there’s a new quirk, a new thing. The oddball kids have grown into zany girls who more typically entertain for a growing season, only to let yet another field lie fallow. Girls who’ve gone from spinning in the backyard to spinning on the dance floor, maybe even a spinning class. Nothing expected except the unexpected.
Dog days, hot fun, hot dogs, whatever it is, the cliché is nostalgia. I look back and know that I’m not necessarily looking back at days or weeks, but rather time spent being entirely me. Sure, subtract a few forgettable years in junior high and probably one or two nights in high school. Always being me and true to my flavor is something I won’t shrink on.
So, when I look back on corny memories and cookouts, I know that the common thread isn’t the husk or silk, but the person instead. We’ve all got these quiet memories within us, poignant kernels that get sweeter with the passage of time. Silliness of childhood Kick the Can fests mixed with the seriousness of hare-brained schemes cooked up and served.
An afternoon riding around the neighborhood now is just as sweet as it was then. And an ear of sweet corn now takes me on the same light, airy, fresh route today as the first time. This is what summer is for, I guess, with flavors so distinct. Each summer is a little of the past and a touch of the future. Knowing and thinking don’t matter in the summertime, it’s the experiencing that counts.
I bought sweet corn and grilled those Silver Queens out in the DC sky. Some friends, the sun, the birds and I sat, looking, watching for the city to surprise us. We didn’t find much, just the amazing smell of cooking sweet corn and garlic cloves. We found tradition and nothing that you find in a pot of boiling water. We found the flavor we hoped for.
Laughing, probably with corn in my teeth, I said again, “We’re not getting any saner.” Maybe it was a story about a kid and her dad singing Roy Orbison on the way to school or maybe something about a lost shoe on 7th Street. They’re all the same story, really. A perspective and an impulse. Maybe a little smile and some embarrassment.
With every passing day, there’s a new quirk, a new thing. The oddball kids have grown into zany girls who more typically entertain for a growing season, only to let yet another field lie fallow. Girls who’ve gone from spinning in the backyard to spinning on the dance floor, maybe even a spinning class. Nothing expected except the unexpected.
Dog days, hot fun, hot dogs, whatever it is, the cliché is nostalgia. I look back and know that I’m not necessarily looking back at days or weeks, but rather time spent being entirely me. Sure, subtract a few forgettable years in junior high and probably one or two nights in high school. Always being me and true to my flavor is something I won’t shrink on.
So, when I look back on corny memories and cookouts, I know that the common thread isn’t the husk or silk, but the person instead. We’ve all got these quiet memories within us, poignant kernels that get sweeter with the passage of time. Silliness of childhood Kick the Can fests mixed with the seriousness of hare-brained schemes cooked up and served.
An afternoon riding around the neighborhood now is just as sweet as it was then. And an ear of sweet corn now takes me on the same light, airy, fresh route today as the first time. This is what summer is for, I guess, with flavors so distinct. Each summer is a little of the past and a touch of the future. Knowing and thinking don’t matter in the summertime, it’s the experiencing that counts.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Taking a lesson in diplomacy from the Swiss (cheese that is)
Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door
Making a good meal can be liberation. Whether you’re carving out a new recipe or constructing something simple and time-tested, the final product can make you feel a sense of accomplishment (even if that accomplishment is over hunger alone). The construction of traditional lasagna is all about weaving some staples of Italian cuisine together into a tasty, juicy, saucy, cheesy mess of heaven. Building a non-traditional lasagna involves much of the same, but calls on some not-so-staples to be complete.
Not unlike Lady Liberty, my oven called, “bring me your zucchini, your swash, your marinated tofu.” And just as diversity enriches heritage, my lasagna was made better, more complex, by the addition of new flavors. Grilled zucchini, eggplant and squash combined with tasty, summer-basil sauce adding a wisp of open air. The most surprising flavor of all, however, was the entrance of peace and diplomacy.
Yes, I pulled that Swiss cheese across a border, through the Alps and beyond, shredding it atop a layered pan of goodies. I wasn’t sure how it would taste, if I would be good or unsettling. What if it was a cross-border mix that didn’t fuse, but co-habitated like angry neighbors, rather?
This “neutral” cheese ended up bringing something far from middle-of-the-road to my palate. It added a remarkable, yet understated flavor. While at first bite, the gourds had taken hold of the dish; slowly, like a new idea creeping into your mind, the Swiss’s resolve came through to be the most resonant moment of that meal.
Sometimes, when new ideas creep into your mind, they stick around longer than expected. That peaceful cheese, with its resilience through the acidic tomato and flavor-grabbing basil-oregano combo, made me feel inherently diplomatic. Without a doubt, I could stop a war, a battle, or at least a small, embittered argument.
And there it was, laying like a knife in my inbox. Angry words that couldn’t be taken back, only responded to or forwarded on. Spread the negativity? No, I tried something new. Sticking one’s neck out to prevent disaster can be hard, even scary. But the bottom line is that cooler heads will prevail, but only once the temperature has been lowered. Sure, the emotions expressed were honest, possibly valid. They weren’t kind or very well-thought out, though.
How do you explain that the intervention is being acted out on two, equally respected, equally accomplished individuals? How do you de-escalate a situation from diplomatic suicide and make it something salvageable? You stick your neck out and take the blame. Fun? No. But maintaining the peace never is. Neither is standing by yourself on an island, holding up a torch to welcome the masses. You do what you have to do to make it work.
Lasagna Alpine
Please keep in mind that I feel my way through any recipe, making adjustments based on availability and whim. So, follow the following with caution, passion and wit. Don’t box yourself in and know that, like life, not every recipe has to be hard, but it does have to be interesting to be worthwhile.
In this recipe, heavy-hitters like eggplant and oregano abound, but the true star is comes in last. It brings this nearly non-dairy treat up a notch and deserves a marquee all its own. Swiss cheese will surprise you and enrich the flavor here. Try it, enjoy it and make it your own.
Ingredients
1 package lasagna noodles
1 large pasta sauce jar
1 package extra firm tofu
2 eggs
3 tbs olive oil
2 medium summer squash (cut in half inch strips lengthwise)
2 medium zucchini (cut in half inch strips lengthwise)
1 eggplant (cut in half inch strips lengthwise)
¼ lb Swiss cheese
4 garlic cloves (minced)
¼ tsp chili powder
1 tsp oregano
½ tsp basil
1 tsp salt
½ tsp pepper (cracked)
vegan Worcestershire to taste
soy sauce to taste
extra salt and pepper to taste
dry red wine/red wine vinegar
1. Begin by preheating the oven to 375 degrees and salting the eggplant pieces and placing them in the fridge for about 30 minutes.
2. Construct your marinade for the vegetables by combining the oil, wine, salt, pepper, garlic, chili powder, oregano and basil. Mix in strips of zucchini and summer squash. I have a lean, mean grilling machine, so I also preheat that and begin placing the gourds on the grill (let the seasonings stay on, they’ll cook into your gourds).
3. When the vegetables have just softened, take them out and cut them into bite-sized chunks.
4. By now, the eggplant should be ready to be blotted and grilled as well. Mix them into the marinade as well and place them onto the grill repeating the steps used on the gourds.
5. Follow the noodle cooking directions on the box.
6. Begin warming the sauce in a large pot.
7. Stir in bite-sized eggplant, summer squash and zucchini. Make sure to stir in the garlic, oregano, oil, etc. Let simmer.
8. Open the tofu and drain. Crumble into a bowl and add two eggs. Stir together adding a splash of soy sauce and vegan Worcestershire.
9. In a 9 x 13 pan, layer noodles, sauce mixture and tofu, repeat until all ingredients are used.
10. Shred Swiss cheese and layer over the top.
11. Bake, uncovered for 45-50 minutes.
12. Let stand for 10 minutes and relax as the sense of peace and happiness washes over you with each taste-testing bite.
Making a good meal can be liberation. Whether you’re carving out a new recipe or constructing something simple and time-tested, the final product can make you feel a sense of accomplishment (even if that accomplishment is over hunger alone). The construction of traditional lasagna is all about weaving some staples of Italian cuisine together into a tasty, juicy, saucy, cheesy mess of heaven. Building a non-traditional lasagna involves much of the same, but calls on some not-so-staples to be complete.
Not unlike Lady Liberty, my oven called, “bring me your zucchini, your swash, your marinated tofu.” And just as diversity enriches heritage, my lasagna was made better, more complex, by the addition of new flavors. Grilled zucchini, eggplant and squash combined with tasty, summer-basil sauce adding a wisp of open air. The most surprising flavor of all, however, was the entrance of peace and diplomacy.
Yes, I pulled that Swiss cheese across a border, through the Alps and beyond, shredding it atop a layered pan of goodies. I wasn’t sure how it would taste, if I would be good or unsettling. What if it was a cross-border mix that didn’t fuse, but co-habitated like angry neighbors, rather?
This “neutral” cheese ended up bringing something far from middle-of-the-road to my palate. It added a remarkable, yet understated flavor. While at first bite, the gourds had taken hold of the dish; slowly, like a new idea creeping into your mind, the Swiss’s resolve came through to be the most resonant moment of that meal.
Sometimes, when new ideas creep into your mind, they stick around longer than expected. That peaceful cheese, with its resilience through the acidic tomato and flavor-grabbing basil-oregano combo, made me feel inherently diplomatic. Without a doubt, I could stop a war, a battle, or at least a small, embittered argument.
And there it was, laying like a knife in my inbox. Angry words that couldn’t be taken back, only responded to or forwarded on. Spread the negativity? No, I tried something new. Sticking one’s neck out to prevent disaster can be hard, even scary. But the bottom line is that cooler heads will prevail, but only once the temperature has been lowered. Sure, the emotions expressed were honest, possibly valid. They weren’t kind or very well-thought out, though.
How do you explain that the intervention is being acted out on two, equally respected, equally accomplished individuals? How do you de-escalate a situation from diplomatic suicide and make it something salvageable? You stick your neck out and take the blame. Fun? No. But maintaining the peace never is. Neither is standing by yourself on an island, holding up a torch to welcome the masses. You do what you have to do to make it work.
Lasagna Alpine
Please keep in mind that I feel my way through any recipe, making adjustments based on availability and whim. So, follow the following with caution, passion and wit. Don’t box yourself in and know that, like life, not every recipe has to be hard, but it does have to be interesting to be worthwhile.
In this recipe, heavy-hitters like eggplant and oregano abound, but the true star is comes in last. It brings this nearly non-dairy treat up a notch and deserves a marquee all its own. Swiss cheese will surprise you and enrich the flavor here. Try it, enjoy it and make it your own.
Ingredients
1 package lasagna noodles
1 large pasta sauce jar
1 package extra firm tofu
2 eggs
3 tbs olive oil
2 medium summer squash (cut in half inch strips lengthwise)
2 medium zucchini (cut in half inch strips lengthwise)
1 eggplant (cut in half inch strips lengthwise)
¼ lb Swiss cheese
4 garlic cloves (minced)
¼ tsp chili powder
1 tsp oregano
½ tsp basil
1 tsp salt
½ tsp pepper (cracked)
vegan Worcestershire to taste
soy sauce to taste
extra salt and pepper to taste
dry red wine/red wine vinegar
1. Begin by preheating the oven to 375 degrees and salting the eggplant pieces and placing them in the fridge for about 30 minutes.
2. Construct your marinade for the vegetables by combining the oil, wine, salt, pepper, garlic, chili powder, oregano and basil. Mix in strips of zucchini and summer squash. I have a lean, mean grilling machine, so I also preheat that and begin placing the gourds on the grill (let the seasonings stay on, they’ll cook into your gourds).
3. When the vegetables have just softened, take them out and cut them into bite-sized chunks.
4. By now, the eggplant should be ready to be blotted and grilled as well. Mix them into the marinade as well and place them onto the grill repeating the steps used on the gourds.
5. Follow the noodle cooking directions on the box.
6. Begin warming the sauce in a large pot.
7. Stir in bite-sized eggplant, summer squash and zucchini. Make sure to stir in the garlic, oregano, oil, etc. Let simmer.
8. Open the tofu and drain. Crumble into a bowl and add two eggs. Stir together adding a splash of soy sauce and vegan Worcestershire.
9. In a 9 x 13 pan, layer noodles, sauce mixture and tofu, repeat until all ingredients are used.
10. Shred Swiss cheese and layer over the top.
11. Bake, uncovered for 45-50 minutes.
12. Let stand for 10 minutes and relax as the sense of peace and happiness washes over you with each taste-testing bite.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Pro-Choice. Buffeted out.
In a world full of choices and chances, do we have too many? We ride through life, hungering for a path. But, in our quest for sustenance, has the buffet ruined us for commitment? Today, we can go through life, love and meals never having to choose and always able to go back for more. Will we ever buckle down and choose a dish?
Between mac n’ cheese, green bean casserole and mashed potatoes, the typical meal is one big speed date. We go along, moving from one sterno pan to the next. If we’re waiting for one, mass-produced dish to jump out from under that sneeze guard to please us ‘til death do we part, we might be waiting forever.
Each time that we step up to the plates, taking a new one and maybe even a fresh fork, we really aren’t starting fresh. Just because your plate is fresh, you’ll always have a few crumbs from your past lingering in your mind, and your plate, for that matter. The memories of a stale roll or maybe a little too much thyme in the stuffing will go back with you time and time again.
As we step up, without being able to step back and survey, is it possible to make the right decision? Just a meal, maybe, but do all of these options, bombarding us result in a complete lack of viable options? When we sit between a staffer and a meathead, what can we choose?
I’m consistently underwhelmed by the options presented. Sure, I think to myself, with all of these choices, I can’t help but find something I like. Then, after a meal of fillers, soggy vegetables and brownies of questionable origin, I’m really only struck by the indigestion that remains.
But then, choices can be good. I mean, how can you know what you want unless you know what you don’t? Checking out the buffet of life makes it possible to know that you’re really there for the cucumber salad. I mean, it’s chill, fresh and has just enough vinegar to challenge your tastebuds.
I may end up at the Indian buffet tomorrow. I may be too hungry to wait and just rush up and try everything right away. But after that initial run through dosa, lentils and eggplant, I’ll know what I want my second trip around.
Between mac n’ cheese, green bean casserole and mashed potatoes, the typical meal is one big speed date. We go along, moving from one sterno pan to the next. If we’re waiting for one, mass-produced dish to jump out from under that sneeze guard to please us ‘til death do we part, we might be waiting forever.
Each time that we step up to the plates, taking a new one and maybe even a fresh fork, we really aren’t starting fresh. Just because your plate is fresh, you’ll always have a few crumbs from your past lingering in your mind, and your plate, for that matter. The memories of a stale roll or maybe a little too much thyme in the stuffing will go back with you time and time again.
As we step up, without being able to step back and survey, is it possible to make the right decision? Just a meal, maybe, but do all of these options, bombarding us result in a complete lack of viable options? When we sit between a staffer and a meathead, what can we choose?
I’m consistently underwhelmed by the options presented. Sure, I think to myself, with all of these choices, I can’t help but find something I like. Then, after a meal of fillers, soggy vegetables and brownies of questionable origin, I’m really only struck by the indigestion that remains.
But then, choices can be good. I mean, how can you know what you want unless you know what you don’t? Checking out the buffet of life makes it possible to know that you’re really there for the cucumber salad. I mean, it’s chill, fresh and has just enough vinegar to challenge your tastebuds.
I may end up at the Indian buffet tomorrow. I may be too hungry to wait and just rush up and try everything right away. But after that initial run through dosa, lentils and eggplant, I’ll know what I want my second trip around.
