A Slight Obsession with Food....

It has come to my attention, once again, that I think about food entirely too much.

I've always enjoyed food although, as a child, I was a horribly picky eater. I was one of those children that only ate 'safe' foods like fishfingers and chips (fishsticks and fries to my American readers), beefburgers (hamburgers), pizza (cheese only, please) and other kid-friendly foods. I simply didn't like my food messed around too much. I liked things plain, simple and kept quite separate on the plate.

When I was in high school and I went on one of my first real dates, I thought it was exotic to eat at the Olive Garden restaurant. Still being a picky eater, I was slightly alarmed and all the fussiness of the descriptions on the menu. I ordered fettucini alfredo which, at the time, seemed wonderfully fancy and grown-up. It became my staple at any Italian type restaurant. When in doubt, order the fettucini alfredo.

Then I went to college and...something happened. I began to eat everything. I don't know if it's because I was suddenly always hungry and there was always food or because my tastebuds changed but, suddenly, I began to try new things. I no longer just ordered fried rice and egg rolls in Chinese restaurants or cheese quesadillas in Mexican restaurants.

That's how it's been ever since. I try almost everything once. I've learned that sushi is not scary but actually rather delicious. I've learned that the Filipino typical breakfast of bangus fish with spicy vinegar, rice and longanisa sausage is pretty fantastic even though it's quite different from the traditional British breakfast of everything fried with a side of baked beans.

In short, I learned to eat because, well, food is just delicious when it's cooked well. I've learned to cook which also helps with the food factor.

It's just...well...that I now think about food. A lot. I mean, I suppose most people do, right? If you're hungry, you try to decide if you're craving something in particular or you're just generally hungry.

However, in my case, usually by about 9 a.m., I've already planned my lunch and dinner. Usually lunch is leftovers from the night before. Dinner's the fun part. I like to do a mental sweep of my pantry/fridge/vegetable drawer and decide what I feel like cooking.

For example, last night for dinner, I made a mini Thanksgiving meal for myself. This may seem slightly excessive for a single woman living alone but, well, if I don't cook for myself then a) I don't practice my cooking skills and b) I live like a bachelorette on microwave meals and take out.

It wasn't like I even had to buy anything special for this meal. I had bought a cornish game hen on sale a month or so ago. It was in the freezer. I already had parsnips in the cupboard because I generally like to keep root vegetables on hand because they're useful. I had potatoes. I had brussels sprouts. Voila. Put it together and you have roasted game hen with roast parsnips and potatoes and a side of brussel sprouts. The whole thing took about an hour to cook. I also have to admit that I made it because on Thanksgiving day, my mother and work together to get the dinner ready for our large family. By the time it's on the table, we're both so tired and sweaty from cooking the meal that we never really eat as much as we'd like because we've lost our appetites somewhat. Since I am a big fan of the roast turkey and trimmings, I figured it didn't hurt to spoil myself a little because that way, I won't feel so disappointed when I don't eat as much on Thanksgiving.

Hey, it makes sense in my head. That counts for something...right?

The nice thing was, I had leftovers of my vegetables and thus, today, I had my leftover vegetables for lunch. This meant there was no need to figure out what to have for lunch.

Instead, I decided to plan dinner. I've been wanting to try a recipe I had for Thai curried chicken soup. I had all the ingredients because I've been planning on making it for a while. All I had to do is defrost the chicken.

The soup turned out to be...fantastic. I know it sounds like I'm singing my own praises but, really, I'm singing the praises of Food Network Magazine who provided the recipe. It was the kind of soup where you just can't get enough of the broth.

I have leftovers for lunch, naturally.

I suppose my question after all this is...is this normal or am I just a bit food obsessed? Am I feeding my slight loneliness and tendency to be a bit of a puppy-loving hermit by indulging in food?

Whatever the answer, I blame the Food Network. Honestly. If my parents hadn't put Iron Chef America on while I was staying there a couple of years ago, I'd probably still be thinking that Tyson Chicken nuggets and McCain Smiles were a good dinner. Instead, I'm trying new recipes, finding new flavour profiles and trying things I never thought I'd ever eat.

It's not so bad. Of course, I have to be a lot more careful than I used to because with age comes a slower metabolism. Yet, it's still fun to watch Iron Chef America and learn something new.

It's also fun to treat each day as a new canvas for that day's meals. Tomorrow, for example, I have leftover soup for lunch. I haven't planned dinner yet. It'll give me something to think about tomorrow when work is a little slow.

Although maybe I should think about work instead.

But it's more fun to think about food.

Happy Tuesday!

Too Much TV on an Impressionable Mind

It's already Sunday evening. I hate that Sunday evenings signal the closing of the weekend. It's been a rather nice weekend too so I'm sorry to see it pass.

I think the puppies will be sad too. They really like weekends where we get to stay home instead of going to my parents' house. Of course, it doesn't mean that they've quite learned the concept of 'sleeping in' yet but we'll work on that. I actually did get to sleep in until 8 a.m. on Saturday although technically, since Rory woke me up at 6 a.m. to go out, it wasn't continuous sleep. Today, she woke me up at 7 a.m. and there was no going back to bed.

On early mornings, I tend to be rather productive. I just think I need to train myself to go to bed earlier so it's a little easy to get up and be productive. Since I had a friend staying over last night, I got up and made the batter for crepes. It's sort of my 'thing'. Being a singleton Monkeypants is mostly fun but I do occasionally wish I had someone to cook for on a regular basis. Thus, I tend to like to cook for guests because I get to use my kitchen gadgets. I got a handy immersion whisk at a yard sale last week so I got to use that for the crepe batter. It's a fabulous device and it takes out all the lumps.

Since I had a guest in town, it meant a trip to Jungle Jim's. Because my friends tend to read this blog, they're generally curious about this grocery store which has me so enamoured. I like to give tours. I think Jungle Jims actually does official tours but I think mine isn't so bad. I think I'm quite informative and I offer the added bonus of being able to explain what odd-looking food items are. Thanks to the Food Network, I have become quite well-versed in weird ingredients.

I have learned that the Food Network has also made me into a bit of a culinary snob. I don't mean that I have high falutin' tastes. I mean that I tend to drop culinary terms into everyday explanation and not even realizing I'm doing it. For example, my friend asked me about making soup so I started to talk about the mirepoix. Naturally, she was, like, "uh, mirror-what?" Then she was looking around my kitchen and found my prep bowls so she asked what they were for. So I explained mise-en-place to her. The thing is, I don't actually mean to sound like a pretentious want-to-be-chef. I just watch far too many cooking shows. Worse than that, I watch the competitive reality cooking shows like Top Chef and The Next Food Network Star in which the contestants are young bucks who are all trying to out-chef each other. They make things like coulis and sabayon. They have fancy cooking technique terns like brunoise .

I am impressionable. I'm also obsessive. When I'm fascinated by something, I tend to absorb like a sponge. I can't actually do the things I'm learning about, necessarily but I like to know what they mean. It's annoying, even to myself.

Once upon a time, I was very anti-reality programming. I used to think it took jobs away from writers because they didn't need writers on these shows. Now, thanks to the slippery slope that was begat from watching Iron Chef America, I have fallen prey to the lure of competition, particularly that in the kitchen. Curses.

Sadly, my knowledge won't get me very far in my real life. Working at a software company puts a damper on the need for fancy cooking knowledge. It does help at Jungle Jim's when I'm browsing. I discovered that they have duck confit there. I'm always seeing that on Top Chef.

It's sad that TV has such an influence on me. However, I think, for the most part, those that I end up feeding don't particularly mind as it usually means they'll be eating something non-vile and, hopefully, tasty.

Still, for now, my flow of guests has come to a slow for a while. While I love having my friends stay, it will be nice to have some time to get some stuff done at home. For example, I have visions of turning my somewhat-unappealing family room into a Tuscan villa room. Of course, I'm not very good at decorating.

Maybe I should start watching more decorating shows.

Happy Monday!

Oddly Productive Evenings...

I've had a strangely productive evening so far and I'm not even sure how I managed it. I'm actually surprised I even had the energy given that, last night, we had thunderstorms that rumbled through the night. The puppies aren't afraid of storms, per se, but they were restless and had trouble settling down. This meant I woke up a lot as they moved, mostly trying to get closer to me. It's nice that I'm their security blanket although it would be nicer if I weren't trying to sleep.

Nevertheless, after a quite busy day at work- one of those where you plan a quiet day of working on a project and it decays into multiple 'rush' projects that all have to be juggled but not in any type of orderly fashion because, at any given moment, you're going to be interrupted- I thought I'd feel like coming home and doing nothing.

Instead, I managed to go to the library to pick up an audiobook to listen to as I drive to my parents' again this weekend. I'm going to listen to Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire as a treat. I just finished listening to Henry James' Turn of the Screw. It's one of those books I've always meant to read but never go around to so when I saw the audiobook...I grabbed it.

Is it wrong to say I disliked Mr. James' classic novel rather a lot? I know it's lead to a lot of critical essays', theses, discussions and the like as to whether the governess is insane or really seeing ghosts but, well, frankly, I thought it was a bit overrated. One of my biggest pet peeves is that the novel begins somewhere with a man who's going to read the story. It's a long beginning, a dragged out lead-in to the actual story. When it begins, you get to hear a gothic, supernatural sort of tale that doesn't end with as much of a twist as I was hoping. Also, I was thinking if Mr. James began with a narrator of sorts, shouldn't he end it the same way? If so, why bother with the whole long, somewhat dull introduction at all?

Anyway, I didn't care for it. That's my two cents. I decided Harry Potter was a safer choice because who doesn't love it when Jim Dale reads to them, particularly when it's my favourite of the Harry Potter novels.

Anyway, after the library, I ran to the supermarket since I invited a coworker/friend to dinner on Thursday and needed some supplies- particularly a bottle of wine since she doesn't like red as I do- she's a white/blush drinker. After that, I came home and uncrated the puppies which always take a while as we have to greet each other quite excitedly- I'm just as pleased to see them as they are to see me- and we ran around outside for a bit. Then I managed to rid my garden, temporarily, I'm afraid, of the dreaded burdock weeds that are taking over. We've had so much rain, they're the size of my head- no kidding. They're evil weeds- growing so big they obscure the actual flowers and so deeply rooted that it's almost impossible to dig the roots up. Nevertheless, for now, they're gone. Also, they're non-toxic and the puppies love them so they managed to dispose of some of them for me. They tend to rip them to pieces with their teeth but not actually eat them. It's quite useful actually.

We followed that up by making dinner. I decided to make steak skewers with gvegetables on the grill. I had marinated the meat in a blend of soy sauce and yuzu sauce- which is an asian citrus marinade/dressing I saw on Iron Chef America and had to try for myself. The yuzu was a fantastic marinade and the steak had a tangy flavour that was actually quite delicious. The skewers themselves were nice too- I used mushrooms, zucchini, cippolini onions, red peppers and red potatoes. I even remembered to soak the skewers so they wouldn't burn. I have to say, it's probably my most successful grilling attempt yet.

I followed up dinner with some more cooking preparations. I'm making split pea with ham soup tomorrow in the crockpot so I needed to prepare my mirepoix (soup base). It's ready to go now.

After clearing up and running the vacuum around, I think I'm actually ready to stop being productive for a while. Fortunately, I have Lost and Glee to watch tonight on TV which is why Tuesdays are my favourite TV night. Although I have to admit, now that Glee is now trendy, I fear it's starting to believe its own hype and it's losing the charm that made me love it. I'm hoping it's temporary. It's still better than most things on TV now though so I'll be watching it anyway.

Ironically, I'm still not terribly tired yet. I'm trying to figure out where this energy is coming from. I had one cup of coffee all day and virtually no sugar unless you count the starlight peppermints I eat at my desk. I'm a little curious as to why I'm so energetic. It's actually a little alarming.

However, ot's nice that it's time to sit down and enjoy the rest of the evening. I just hope that I don't crash halfway through Lost.

I do have a feeling that I'll sleep tonight...I just hope the puppies do the same!

Happy Wednesday.

I Don't Want to Grow Up! Can I be a Toys R Us Kid Forever?

It's almost Friday. I, for one, am rather glad about this. I'm sure I've written that before and I will again but it's a sentiment worth repeating, I think.

It hasn't been a bad week. It's been a short week, something that always helps. It's been a cold week, too. Last night, lying in bed, I listened to the scariest creaks and moans from my house. Given that I've just 'published' a book about a demon who haunts a woman who isn't, um, terribly unlike me, my imagination started to go wild.

I shortly curtailed that thought process in favour of reality. Unfortunately, reality was scarier. I started to think that the icicles on my house were rather large and, therefore, heavy. I have some that are, seriously, five feet long. Until yesterday, I was quite proud of this. I mean, honestly, that's some icicle!

And then I went to bed and my house was creaking and moaning. After I cast aside the idea that there was a demon in my attic, I started to think of the reality: There is, at least, five inches of snow on my roof. There are, in places, five feet of icicles hanging from my gutter. Which is worse, a paranormal creature haunting me or the idea of my roof caving in?

I'll have you know, at 11:30 p.m. at night, lying in a dark bedroom, trying to sleep, the idea of a roof caving in is scarier than a demon.

I know! Crazy, isn't it? You'd think I'd be more alarmed about the sound of footsteps in my attic. But as I started to let reality creep in, the footstep sounds transformed into the sound of the boughs of my house starting to sag under the weight of all that snow and ice.

Until now, I'd been proud that my roof was always covered with snow longer than anyone else's. I thought that meant I had better insulation. It probably did. Then I started to wonder how bad it was that my poor roof was so weighed down that it was starting to protest with gentle groans. Thus...I began to panic.

I think I've officially become a grown-up. Once upon a time, my imagination would have pictured a demon in my attic, a ghost floating above me...everything that Stephen King could inspire and then some. These days, the idea of a collapsed roof presents far more nightmares than a genuine ghost.

I want to know when this happened. I like to pinpoint significant moments in my life and I have a feeling that when I made the real, actual, genuine transition to being a full-blown adult occured, it was significant.

I can't figure it out. I currently am listening to an iTunes playlist I made a week ago and it contains everything from Green Day to Muse to Miley Cyrus to Sacha Baron Cohen singing "I like to Move it, Move it" from Madagascar. Even now, it gives me the urge to call my good friend in Pasadena, CA and say, "hey, know what I like to do?" and when she says, "No," I say "I like to move it, move it."

So when did I really grow up? I'm not sure I really have.

Except there's that teeny-tiny, miniscule fact that I'm more concerned about the expense and inconvenience of my roof caving in than having some evil creature haunt me.

I think it's safe to say that, darn it all, I've become an adult.

I'm groaning as I type this.

I may still hide behind my age by going to Green Day concerts. After all, they're older than me, therefore, it's still cool when I go and watch them play. I still like TV shows like Gossip Girl (don't judge me, please. It's Saz's fault...she got me hooked). But I can, at least, see the differences between their generation and mine. I may still read young adult novels for the story and plot. But I do see the reality, even if it makes me cringe.

For example, I do tend to want to clomp the 'heroine' in the head when she turns out to be Bella Swann from Twilight. I'm not even a mother but I still have the urge to slap her when you find out when she's not stopping a 'guy' from watching her while she sleeps. Ok, so he's immortal and he's a vampire. Yet it's still creepy. I don't care if he doesn't need to sleep. I don't care that Bella loves him. It's still creepy. If Edward Cullen can get into your room while you sleep, that means other non-vampire men can do so. Therefore...creepy. Also, really, Edward? You want to watch a girl while she sleeps? Sorry to break it to you but we females aren't so different from males: We snore, drool and move in our sleep...just like you. I'd think that was awfully boring to watch, even if you love us.

To put this in a more realistic context: I love Iron Chef America on the Food Network. It was the show that got me hooked on wanting to cook. I love all of the Iron Chefs and I root for them, regardless of the competitor. Yet there are times when they make me have to consider eating, say, a fish heart or pig's brain that I say: "No, Iron Chef....that's just not pleasant!"

It's not about the taste, it's about the actuality. It's disgusting in theory. In reality, I'm sure it's delicious but I stop before I get that far.

Hence the comparison to teenage vampire lovin'. Ok, so the idea of Edward Cullen staring at you while you sleep may seem romantic...yet, in actuality, it's twisted. He doesn't need to sleep but instead of doing something useful like composing a symphony, writing a novel or even creating a new recipe, he puts aside all that to just...stare at you...while you sleep.

It's creepy. It's wrong. It's just....such a teenage idea.

Hence the fact that I recognize the fact that I'm now a curmudgeonly grown-up. I don't like to think I've lost the idea of romance but I do think I've shed the illusion that romance can be completely silly, completely separate from reality. I've just started reading the novel Outlander and already I sort of want to slap the heroine for being so obtuse. I haven't even got that far but I can see that the hero is going to be 'James', the hero who was wounded when he met his love but grew to be a brave saviour.

Reality isn't so easy. I wish it could be. Sometimes, I wish men and women could walk around with coloured stickers on them so that all we had to do was find the person with the same coloured sticker as the one we were wearing and, voila!, that was our mate. Alas, it does not work that way. Instead, we have to go for awkward coffee/dinner dates with men that an online dating site thinks is right for us because a number of variables on our profiles matches.

I sound bitter. I'm not. I just feel like sometimes I'm too much of an adult and that I should figure out how to cast reality aside in favour of the fictional perfection that I covet in life. I think, in truth, it's up to us. Online dating sites can apply their logical computerized formula to match us but it's the actuality that matters: Do I like him? Is he man enough to call me? Is he actually going to ask me questions about me or talk about Ultimate Frisbee for two hours? Is he really looking for a relationship or just a quickie?

The thing is, I don't think it really matters. While I may have become an adult, ready to worry about the reality of scary matters, I'm still able to step back and realize that sometimes it's nice to be immature, to regress back to the days where idealisation overruled practicality.

Of course, when it comes down to the fact that idealisation costs money, I become exceedingly practical....which I suppose means I've become a fully-fledged grown up.

*sigh*

I suppose you have to grow up sometime. I just don't want to. Say, is that footsteps in my attic, I hear. Perhaps it's a demon! Maybe I should investigate....who cares is my gutter is falling!

Nope, can't do it. Damn it all....I'm a grown up. No matter how hard I try to pretend otherwise.

Happy Friday...and have a great weekend!

The Art of Adaptation

It's my last day in last day in this building today. This means it was also my last commute. People in the office keep telling me how lucky I am that my house is only ten minutes from the new building. I agree, to some extent although I do prefer to think of it as strategic planning, rather than luck.

Also, I'm actually no longer opposed to a commute. I was when I first moved back to Ohio because commuting in Los Angeles is enough to kill the joy of driving for anyone. Seriously, the mere fifteen miles of distance from my apartment to my job could take up to an hour and a half on a bad days. Thus, moving back and living in the same town as where I worked was quite a novelty. Then I moved and the office didn't and I was back to a commute.

Yet, this time, the commute was steady. It rarely differs in time at all. It's a straight 45 minute shot and it's about 26 miles from home to this office. That's not a bad drive. Also, it's pretty. Part of the drive is an interstate. Then my exit takes me to a two lane highway that eventually slims down to a one lane highway. It's primarily rural so, especially at this time of year, the scenery is beautiful with all the trees, leaves, greenness and quiet.

Since I've been listening to audiobooks, the commute is something I almost look forward to because it's like my own private time to 'read' and relax.

That time has reached its end for now. I don't mind because for someone who complains about getting out of my warm cocoon of a bed as frequently as I do in this blog, a ten minute commute is rather a luxury.

I think, more than anything, it proves you can get used to anything if you do it enough. I think that's why they call it adaptation. We can all adapt, even when we least expect it. For example, my aversion to a commute has gently become an enjoyment. I think there are a lot of things in life like that, when you stop to think about it.

It's like cooking, for me. Until recent years, I viewed cooking as something that was necessary to do unless I wanted to eat out all the time. I never counted microwaving as cooking. Yet my cooking was basic, usually involving something pre-packaged. Then, slowly, thanks to Iron Chef America, I began to be interested in food. Now, I cook. I get excited about kitchen gadgets and I love to try new recipes. I've even implemented an 'unusual vegetable of the week' routine. Generally, I go to the grocery store or a market and buy something I haven't cooked with much. Then I attempt to find a recipe that incorporates it. Recently, I've tried things such as rapini (broccoli rabe), escarole, swiss chard, fennel, turnips and spaghetti squash. Some of the recipes work out, some don't. Yet it's making me try new recipes and since I adore vegetables, it's a fun way to make something healthy as well as occasionally delicious. I have a great swiss chard recipe, if anyone's interested.

Anyway, my point is, I got used to actually cooking instead of the semblance of such. I started to care about my knives. I started to use prep bowls and zesters. I think now I've finally reached the point where I'm almost snobbish. Take garlic for example: I used to buy those jars of minced garlic. It was still fairly fresh and it was easy to measure. Then, I bought a fresh garlic and learned how to push down on it gently with my knife to make it easy to peel. Then I began to chop it myself. Now, I can't use any other type of garlic. I still have a little jar of the minced but even when I'm in a hurry, I end up chopping my own. I love the way my fingers smell afterward. I love the slight stickiness it leaves on my fingers. It just feels wonderful to make a dish in which everything is fresh.

Yet, if I'd have written this a year and a half ago, I would have thought I was out of my mind. At that time, I still used garlic powder as a substitute. I thought there was no difference between fresh herbs and those dried ones.

I've come a long way. Cooking has become part of my life. I adapted.

So, you see, I think it's about perspective. My commute once seemed an evil prospect. Now I'm saying goodbye to it, I'm a little sad. I liked that time to decompress after work. It was a good time to call my mother and let a little steam off about my workday. I can still do that stuff but I'm going to have to find a new way to do it. Perhaps I can finally start exercising again because I'll have extra time in the evening.

I'm not fond of exercising, particularly in the winter. It's hard to come home when it's cold outside, peel off my layers of warmth and then strip down to change into workout clothes when all I really want to do is ladle out a bowl of beef stew and sit in front of the TV. Yet, if I do it enough, perhaps I'll get used to exercising again. After all, as I've said, it's really just a matter of perspective. If I start to like it, maybe I'll keep it up. I just have to adapt to the idea, that's all.

But, for today, I have one more commute left: The commute home.

I don't think that's such a bad thing though, do you?

Happy Friday and have a good weekend!