Taster Spoon

Bitch Is the New Black

The other day as I was getting ready for work, I had grey cotton tights and a grey shirt on, and a khaki skirt.  Bo-ring.  And I decided, you know what this outfit needs?

Bitch boots.

A couple years back VU took some friends to see the shops of Santa Monica.  In a shoe store targeting people more sartorially adventurous than we, I tried on a pair of boots that were on sale. 

The heels were high, the fit was skin tight...they were gold.  Not only did they make me understand what it might be like to be six feet tall (awesome), they made my legs look a mile long and forced my slouchy gait into a hip-thrusting saunter.

I kept posing and admiring them in front of the mirror.  They were completely impractical, and called attention to themselves in a way that just wasn't me.  "I look like... I look like..."

Commented Boots: "You look like a total bitch."

I bought them.  I wore them exactly once, a few weeks later, to a law school class reunion.  Those of you with experience with New York probably know how much walking that entailed - KK stopped with me to buy little forefoot padded inserts, but there was also the problem that they are so high that my calves seize up with extended wear.  And that they are 100% synthetic, so you start to sweat in there.  My dogs were howling at the end of the night.  It is entirely possible that the boots themselves turned me into a bitch.

I've kept the BB around for the two years since then, but every time I've contemplated wearing them (not that often - when are knee high gold boots ever appropriate?), I think of the sweat and the muscular stress and the painful feet and opt for something far more reasonable. 

A couple of weeks ago, I put them in the box for Goodwill, and it felt like the passing of an era.

I suppose we all have an article of clothing like that.  Something that represents us at our most fabulous, our most outrageous, our most confident and bitchy.  Something that recalls the million other outfits for which we (in our youths) sacrificed comfort to look hot.  Just recently, Embee sent an e-mail to mark the passing of her own incarnation of Liquid Gold (too soon, too soon).

So I pulled the BB out of the box, zipped them up, and evaluated.  Well, they weren't that uncomfortable (standing on the carpet)...I was just going to be sitting at my desk all day...no one would have to see them...  And somehow I would be able to put off that day of surrender to age and practicality just a little longer.

Only, I forgot that we were having an industry networking event for women in intellectual property law that afternoon.  Most of our firms and companies generally have "business casual" policies, but still - it would have been a good time to look like a professional.

Rather than like a Professional.

Nevertheless, I pretended like I wasn't wearing anything particularly unusual, and after the seminar, I was standing around among the buffet and the chitchat, only to have a woman slide in next to me and say - "I must come stand over here next to the boots!!  I'm guaranteed to like anybody wearing those boots!"  My self consciousness evaporated, and I felt like I belonged...among all the other fabulous bitches.

I got several other boots-related compliments at the event, and at the end of the evening I officially welcomed the prodigal boots back into my closet. 

I have a friend who dresses generally conservatively, and mostly in black.  But the other week, when she was my date for the opera thing, I was startled by her nail polish red, patent leather spike-heeled pumps.  They were outrageous!  They were nothing less than awesome.  She confessed that she wears them on job interviews and is certain they convey the fact that she knows exactly what she wants and is fearless about pursuing it.  I have to agree.   

So I've come around; Mission: Organization be damned, I think it's valid to hang onto an article of clothing that may get only infrequent use, but which speaks volumes about, not practicality, but possibility.  But I think it's even better if you can find one item that takes you out of your comfort zone and projects what you would like to say about yourself, and then wear it - often. 

When two heads are not better than one

I subscribed for a share in the Two Small Farms CSA this year.  It costs about $20/week, and you can pick up your box at some thirty locations all up and down the Peninsula on varying days - easy peasy.  Last Wednesday I picked up the first box.

It contained

• a few bunches of spring garlic (looks like green onions, but smells and tastes like garlic)
• LOTS of parsnips
• 2 small butternut squashes
• 2 petite bunches of celery
• multicolored carrots - an enormous orange ones, and pink and white ones, too
• a little bunch of hot-pink radishes
• a tight, crisp green cabbage
• more escarole than you can possibly imagine.

For about six extra dollars a week, you can (and I did) also receive a bouquet of local, organic flowers.  I was skeptical of these, expecting buggy, spindly wildflowers, but the bunch was gorgeous - enormous pink tulips and two colors of iris and branches of flowering rosemary and bay leaves (whose leaves I'm going to dry and save when they're done being colorful) and a number of other bright orange and pink flowers I don't know the name of.  I enjoyed them as a bunch for several days, then separated them out into four different, smaller bouquets I put around the house, and which are still going strong.  Six dollars well spent.  If they're still looking good when the next box comes in tomorrow, we're going to have an embarrassment of flowers.  (But if they're organic, maybe we can eat them.)

I'm accustomed to organic produce costing an arm and a leg (and, truthfully, don't buy it when it does), so I'm amazed how much eating $20 provides.

So far, I've used the veggies in:

3 meals' worth of cream of vegetable soup (celery, parsnips, spring garlic)

4 meals' worth of honey glazed root veggies (multicolored carrots, parsnips, radishes)

2 servings of Asian-style cole slaw (cabbage, radishes, spring garlic)

1 serving of stir fried radish greens (radishes)

1 wilted salad (escarole, spring garlic)

1 serving of smoked salmon dip-filled crudite (celery and radishes).

I'm not crazy about celery, but I'm chastened by the idea that food dislikes are to some extent acquired, and have managed to get through it all, by seasoning highly the above (mostly celery) soup, filling raw stalks of it with crazy delicious salmon-dip, hiding chopped celery as a base layer in a mushroom risotto and freezing the small amount that remained for stock.  Very pleased with myself.  I suspect that at least one item a week will be my 'challenge' item, which I will have to really push on through.

I am NOT pleased with myself re the escarole.  There is a ridiculous amount.  I guess it's just two heads, but it's a little bitter, so it doesn't make for an inviting salad, so I don't know what to do.  I stir fried some on the weekend, but can't say I enjoyed it.  But they're looking at me, wiltingly, and I know I need to make some headway before tomorrow's box comes in. 

Anyway, I've only gone shopping once - a last minute run on Good Friday to grab some mussels and frozen fish filets for dinner.  Ace picked up some milk and cereal and OJ, and bread at the farmer's market.  So, financially, this CSA thing is not as much of a hit as I thought it might be, now that I'm forced (by the threat of waste) to build most meals around the produce. 

The threat of waste is no small thing.  I have a few things remaining, besides one and a half HUUGE heads of floppy escarole, but they don't bother me yet.  Three quarters of a cabbage (we can blow through this in a couple of stirfries and slaws), a handful of parsnips and carrots (just enough for one roasted dinner) and the butternut squashes, which I've refrained from cracking into in favor of the perishables.

It's a challenge, for sure, but I'm looking forward to the year. 

Tomorrow, I'm expecting to get a bunch of greens that are mysterious to me - Italian greens I've never heard of, tumbleweed.  The farm is kind enough to include some recipe ideas in their weekly newsletter, which they send in advance so we can plan ahead.  They manage to make a lot of the vegetables that intimidate me (bitter greens, chard) seem, instead, sophisticated and refreshing.   So I'm going to hew closely to their recommendations on these - I feel like I'm being thrown into an area of cooking that's completely new to me, dealing with mystery produce, and it's exciting. 

I think I'll learn a lot this year.

Near Misses

Happy Easter, everybody! 

I had to work last night, which meant that, instead of sneaking around the house hiding colored eggs and baskets, I spent the evening -

- poking around the MLS listings

- trying to get good NPR reception in the office and giving up

- checking my perpetually empty e-mail inbox

- playing with my hair

- checking out the 'Missed Connections' on Craigslist.

I don't know what made me look at the Missed Connections; it's not something I do as a practice, and certainly I wasn't looking for myself, since to take a starring role in a 'Missed Connection' would require that I leave the house and make eye contact with...anyone.  In fact, I clicked idly (because, you know, I was working) but was instantly engrossed.

I couldn't understand the motivation behind posting one.  I couldn't believe, first of all, that anybody actually read them, particularly to look for someone looking for themselves.  So that actually seeking someone thr0ugh one seems wholly futile.  I was reading some out loud, outraged - did this guy actually expect some woman to answer??

Like this one:

• Golds Gym in Redwood City - m4w - 36 (redwood city)
• Every time I see you, you blow my mind. I think you might be 50 yrs. old, but you look 20 in that hot body of yours. Your probably 6 feet tall, married, with a great life. What are the chances an italian romantic man like me cold sweep you off your feet? lets work out toghether what do you say?  [Grainy, headless picture of dude with a gym body in a sarong.]

Who is going to respond to that?  The "hot body" compliment is directly undermined by the "you look 50" observation - I guess only if you're 60 and interested in a gigolo would this be complimentary and intriguing.  Or am I naive, is this how gigoloing works?  There were a few posts by younger men looking for "older" women, very vague, that I took to be gigolo offers, but I think this one is genuine, and for our 60 year old friend to respond to this one takes some confidence that hers is, in fact, the bod he finds hot.

This one, for instance, I perceive to be a more traditional gigoloing offer:

• OLDER WOMEN AT WHOLE FOODS !!!!!(HARRISON AT EL CAMINO) - m4w - 22 (redwood city)
• TO THE SEXY older WOMEN AT WHOLE FOODS, WEARING TIGHT JEANS AND AND SHIRT , i saw you while we were both shopping I SMILED , YOU SMILED, WHAT SUP WITH IT ?SND ME A EMAIL IF U LIVE IN REDWOOD CITY AND U WANT TO HOOK UP , I LIVE CLOSE. around the corner .and i might be young but i love older women /!!

Clearly any 22 year old shopping at Whole Foods has expensive tastes.

These are the ones that drove me crazy:

• Slender Brunette in Borders, Palo Alto, 6pm - m4w - 46 (palo alto)
• m4w

That's all the text there is.  Who the hell are you?  What woman in her right mind is going to respond to that?

The ones written by women seem to have more potential for return.

• Saw you again today....( cute guy in green scubs)- w4m - 29 (menlo park)
• I saw you a few weeks ago crossing the foot bridge into Palo Alto. You were dressed in scrubs with coffee in hand and you said hi to me and my guy friend. I posted a missed connection for you then, but sadly there was no response. But today, I was driving home ( around 5:45ish) and low and behold there you were again walking home on East Creek. You were in your green scrubs and looked adorable! We made eye contact and smiled at one another as I turned into my parking garage. I am kicking myself now for not rolling down my window to say hello. Hopefully, you will see this post and respond. I would love to chat with you- I am definitely intrigued. If not, if I see you again I promise to not be so shy and say hello....

This person cannot be expecting a response.  Can she?  She didn't get one last time.  Moreover - why the Missed Connection - apparently their commutes overlap, why doesn't she just act like a normal person the next time their paths cross?

Ace is of the opinion that nobody really expects a response to their Missed Connection, that they operate as 'Secret Admirer' letters - giving the writer the chance to express their feelings, and also the thrill that they could be discovered, along with dangling the fantasy that maybe the object of their admiration will recognize them and show up at their door with a fresh baked blackberry pie and a bottle of wine.  And that the object of affection may even actually receive the compliment, but won't be put in a position to make the author lose face if there's no reciprocation.

All of this makes sense. 

And this one, I think, may embody that compliment/thrill of possible discovery/fantasy motive.

• You were picking up your chocolate lab - w4m - 32 (redwood city)
• OK, I'm married, but you had the most amazing ice blue eyes and looked so sexy in your suit. I hope you don't find this posting because I can just see myself getting into a world of trouble. I just can't get you out of my head.

But I have to say, I think some people really do want to find someone - clearly enough that Craigslist's "Best Of" list includes point by point instructions for writing an effective missed connection post (be specific, what were we each wearing, what did we say, what time was it, if you actually want a response take minimal care over your grammar and spelling).

Here are two that made me laugh - as examples of what makes missed connections so enjoyable.

• PREGNANT LADY in GREEN in the ELEVATOR - m4w - 36 (redwood shores)
• Hey
  
  you are so cute and looked so delicate.. so soft and so pregnant
  
  i would love to be a friend...nothing complicated but want to know you..we can be discreet..u looked so nice and soft.lovely.......
  
  
  we had a few others in the elevator. I think you were carrying a ziplock like bag with veggies inside.did not have a very close look though....

This, to me, is a perfect example of the missed connection. 

A.  Creepy. 

B.  This embodies the oh-so-enjoyable literary tension of the Missed Connection - the gentle, romantic, poetry and compliments that are meant to woo, combined with the very practical and humdrum identifiers and logistics (Ziploc bag of veggies). 

C.  Does he really think anyone is going to respond? 

D.  Complete lack of self description - which guy in the elevator was he, and is she forever going to be afraid to get into elevators now?

But this next one made me laugh.  I would love to know if he gets any responses.

• I busted you taking a #2 behind the linda mar Safeway - m4w
• i came through with the Charmin and you said I was charming :) i didn't stop to get your info at the time because i was sort of disgusted and thought you might be homeless. but you've been on my mind a lot in the last couple of days and i did think u were kinda cute. i guess i've been in the same situation before and had to go bad so i just went outside but when its happened to me i was in the middle of nowhere. i mean, you could've just gone inside the safeway or in the mcdonalds, or even in the public bathrooms over by the beach. maybe this is just how you break the ice. in any case i'm intrigued. want to get some coffee?

So tell me: Have you seen any intriguing missed connections in your area?  Do you have a favorite?  Have you ever written or been the subject of one?

p.s. I have learned that the San Carlos 24Hour Fitness is a very popular venue for m4m missed connections.

Do you believe in fortune cookies?

They believe in you!

So remember last month, when I was all angsty and in a whirlpool of self-doubt and uncertainty about where my life is headed and how I'm spending my time and ticking clocks and defeated expectations and "is that all there is to a fire"?

Yeah, well, I'm still spinning.  I made some plans and kind of let them slide; I made a couple of changes but they've shrunken into ends in themselves rather than means to something greater.  I generally don't like to get into deeply personal stuff in the blog - too many (like, four) people I know read this and, you know how it is, in life we get to deliver carefully filtered versions of our states of mind on a need-to-know basis.  Except for a few wonderful women on whose counsel I rely, everybody else, parents, coworkers, casual acquaintances, gets a slice of me that accords with their degree of interest, their expectations, their own self interest.  And that's as it should be.

But so when you've had a morning of wrestling with a what-to-do problem, and that nice guy in the office elevator  says, "How's it going," and you pull together a smile and say, "I'm okay," and he says, with concern, "Just 'okay'?" - how do you respond? 

Well, you let the question hang and instead say, "How are YOU," and he says, "I'm okay."  And you nod knowingly, and smile at each other sadly, and he gets off at his floor and you hope he didn't see the moisture spring to your eye.

So you go to your desk, and you think, "What's next?"

And you think, this is exactly the moment pictured by the people who write the Dove chocolate sayings.  So you have one.

And it says, "Make a list of your dreams."

Hm.  I guess the only thing you can do is look forward and try to make the present line up with what you hope for the future.  But what if what you'd hoped for years ago won't ever happen?  What if maybe those hopes were unrealistic - maybe it's better to count your blessings and seek only incremental improvements.  Like - another piece of chocolate.

It says, "There's a time for compromises...it's called 'later.'"

Crispy, Succulent Chicken under a Brick

Hey, remember these?

Check it out!

You've come a long way, baby greens.  (Actually, I went through them this morning and it turned out a lot of those greens are weeds.  I didn't exactly use sterile soil, just dirt from the backyard.)

I bought a chicken the other day.  I'm philosophically opposed to buying pre-cut up chicken parts - are you surprised?  A whole chicken seems much more economical, as long as you are going to use the whole thing anyway.

But it takes me a good ten minutes to take a chicken apart, and I've been busy lately and haven't wanted to give it the time, even though that would save me effort later.  But then, I've neither wanted to take the hour to make a big old roast chicken dinner. 

So the other night, when I got home at about 9 pm, I decided my spring chicken was becoming less of one, and I vaguely remembered America's Test Kitchen recently did a split-open roasted chicken that they said was quick(er).  That episode was gone from the TiVo, so I googled around for a "split chicken", and found several recipes for Chicken under a Brick, which I will share with you now.  About five to ten minutes of prep, and about half an hour of cooking, during which time you can do your Japanese homework.  Or watch a couple episodes of Mission: Organization on fast-forward (so satisfying).

I haven't done any how-to-cook posts to date, in part because most of my friends and family who might read this are more than competent in the kitchen.  But I so thoroughly enjoy reading others' cooking posts, I might as well throw this one on the wall.

Chicken under a Brick

Time till dinner: 35 minutes, give or take 5 minutes.

Serves: 2-3 (using half a chicken)

Ingredients:

• Chicken
• Assorted herbs - fresh feels fancy, but I'm sure dried is fine
• Four or five cloves of garlic
• Salt, pepper
• Smidge of oil
• Couple of potatoes
• Salad greens and dressing

Here's what you do in your five or ten minutes of prep:

Preheat the oven to 400 ish.

Chop up some herbs (from your garden, la di da), and a bunch of garlic, and throw them in a roomyish bowl with some salt and pepp - don't be stingy.  I used rosemary,  oregano, and sage.  Anything else you want to put in there, like chili flakes or cumin or mint?  Now's the time.  A bloop of olive oil never hurt anyone.

Spatchcock a chicken!  Ha ha!  Spatchcock!  (Kitchen shears are totally up to the task - put the spine in a ziploc in the freezer for future stock.  Take off the wings, too, and save them for later.  I accumulate wings in my freezer as I go through chickens over time, and eventually make sesame mini-drumsticks.)  Really squash it down till it's flat and floppy by pressing the heel of your hand into it and jump all your weight onto it.

Git out yer cast iron pan.

As it turned out, the chicken was way too big for the pan, so I had to cut it in half and make it two separate nights. 

Put the chicken in the bowl with your seasonings, and mush it all around.  If you're thinking ahead, do everything up to this point in the morning or the night before so it can absorb the delicious seasonings.  Or if, like with me, this is a last minute thing, be sure to pull up the chicken skin and make sure those flavorings get under there and chummy with the flesh.  (As I said, I made this two separate nights because the chicken was so big, and the second half, which had hung out with the seasonings for two days, wasn't markedly superior to the first.  But having done this part ahead did decrease my kitchen time the second time around from ten minutes of prep to more like two.)

Put a little smidge of vegetable oil in your pan and turn on medium heat. 

While your pan is heating, grab some bricks from your backyard and wrap them in foil (to keep your chicken clean).  Make sure your pan is hot - I threw a tiny piece of garlic from the marinade into the pan and it jumped and popped.

Grab that chicken, and smoosh it, skin side down, into your hot pan - you want to maximize the chicken/pan contact area.  (The first time I did this, I smooshed the half chicken, intact, into the pan and it was perfectly fine.  The second time around, I cut the leg/thigh and breast apart into two pieces, and think I got a better spread and less wobbly bricks.)   

Weight it as quickly as possible with your brick(s) before the skin shrinks up.  (I started off putting a flat lid on, with the bricks atop that, thinking it would distribute the weight better, but changed my mind.  I think the bricks alone allow for better air circulation, and perhaps a crispier skin.)

Walk away and ignore it for 15 minutes. 

In the interim, you can slice up some sweet and white potatoes, toss them with olive oil (use the bowl your chicken was in - I'm all for minimizing dishes) and lay them out on a cookie sheet and pop them in your hot oven.  Takes all of 5 minutes, and you'll have home fries when you're done.

Come back to your chicken, which has now made a spattery mess all over your oventop and counter.  Take off your bricks, flip your chicken with tongs (make sure the skin side is adequately brown and crispy for your taste, otherwise give it a little more gas for another 5 minutes), and slide the whole pan into the oven.  (This is why you need a cast iron pan, or at least an all-metal one.)

I guess you could turn your potatoes now, but I didn't bother and they came out great.

Walk away and ignore it for another 15 minutes.

You could use five minutes of this time to wash, dry and dress some greens (from your garden, la di da!).  Try not to eat weeds.

When the timer pings, you are so done.  Moist, juicy chicken meat; crisp, almost flaky skin.  I never eat chicken skin, but I could not resist crunching into a little of this.  The potatoes should be tender on the inside and a little browned.  Your salad should make you feel totally smug.

Okay, okay, I know my chicken in these pics looks kind of burnt, but it didn't taste burnt, and it was not so dark the next time I made it - I think the gas was a little lower for the stovetop portion.

The white meat wasn't dry, but if you like a saucy sauce anyway, what's left in the pan - not just the fond, but the garlic and herbs that spilled out of your chicken - is a scrumptious base.  Take the chicken out of your pan, crank up the heat, pour in a little white wine (and maybe some capers?), scrape up and incorporate all the yummies and let it bubble for a couple of minutes, then pour that over your chicken.  It's kind of fatty, but awfully good.   

I didn't feel I needed any sauce; I like dark meat anyway.  What I did was put the leftovers in a dish, and make the sauce after dinner while I was cleaning up the kitchen, then poured it over the leftover white meat - made for a delicious lunch.

By the flicker, by the light of the TV set

So my Dove chocolate wrapper today said this:

"Watch reruns, they replay your memories."

Dove chocolate wrappers have a tendency to depress me anyway, but this one really bothered me. 

Seriously?  My memories comprise sitcoms?  Reminding myself that that's where my spent youth went - squandered in front of the boob tube - that's supposed to make me feel good?  That youth we were talking about, can I find it again, somewhere in the cracks of the couch?

I think I need another chocolate.

"Go to your special place."

Oh yeah.  Much better.

The wearin' o' the leprechaun

Mountain View Voices

What, again?

CITY COUNCIL REGULAR MEETING NOTICE

PROPOSED COMMUNITY GARDEN SITE—

BONNY/BEATRICE STREETS

The Mountain View City Council will review the Parks and Recreation Commission recommendation of "no project" for a proposed community garden site at the Bonny and Beatrice Streets location.

        Date:         Tuesday, March 25, 2008

        Location:     Council Chambers, 500 Castro Street

        Time:        7:00 p.m.

Interested persons may attend the meeting and present comments or send comments to james.teixeira@mountainview.gov or the Community Center at 201 South Rengstorff Avenue , Post Office Box 7540 , Mountain View , California , 94039-7540 .  A copy of the staff report will be available for review at www.mountainview.gov and the Community Center beginning Friday, March 21, 2008, 4:30 p.m.

Be there, or be windowbox gardening.

Hi-Ho the Derry-O

Aw, man, I wish I'd heard about this one.  I totally could have been a contender.

http://hollywoodinsider.ew.com/2008/03/the-cw-lets-far.html

"farmer...seeks special someone to hoe around with."  Classic.

Tonight, tonight, won't be just any night

A friend who is an opera singer is visiting from New York to sing with the Berkeley Symphony O.

In her honor, soprano light bulb jokes (totally lifted from the Internet - do you really think I knew any opera jokes?):

How many sopranos does it take to change a light bulb?

• One. She holds the bulb and the world revolves around her.
• Two. One to hold the diet soda and the other to get her accompanist to do it.
• Three. One to do it, her understudy, and one to say she could have done it better.
• Four. One to change the bulb and three to pull the chair out from under her.

You will win the opera lovers' prize if you can guess what kind of flowers I'm bringing.

Update:

Callas!  I brought callas!  Get it?

The performance was wonderful!  I've never heard Gaby perform, but because she's an incredibly lovely and generous person, of course I was going to say something nice no matter what she sounded like.  But the truth is - she has a really pretty voice.  Maybe I didn't know what a mezzo soprano is supposed to sound like.  I think "opera singer," and I think, loud, piercing, I think about that woman in our apartment building in New York who used to sing scales at the top of her lungs, causing other neighbors to shout out their windows, "Shut up!  SHUT UP!!" sending us into fits of giggles. 

But she was mellifluous and rich and steady and expressive...and such a pleasure to listen to. 

I'm an awful blogger, I forgot my camera.  But I got to sneak into her dressing room (there was no! Fiji!  water!) and look purposeful backstage, and I made her husband take pictures from the bottom of the stage so we'd have a Gabriela's Eye View.  I will post them when they become available. 

Gordon Getty introduced himself at the reception afterwards.  Not too shabby.