YarnFoodCoffee

Quesadillas with a side of... wait, that's not quacamole!

So lately I've been trying to replicate these awesome veggie quesadillas I had at the local farmers markets. I figured it was just beets, braising greens, onions, mozzarella, and some kind of hot sauce. So yesterday I picked up some greens at the market (but no beets, sold out fast!) I made them last night for dinner. Just finely slice the onion, sautee in oil, add the greens, and cover, shaking occasionally until they're nice and wilty. Uncover, add some hot sauce, and shake the pan around. Then move the greens to the side of the pan and place a tortilla in the pan. Cover it with cheese, top the cheese with the greens, add more cheese, top with another tortilla, and brown both sides. Slice and serve. SO GOOD!!!

So about 15 minutes ago I got hungry, and decided to make another batch! But as I was adding hot sauce and shaking the greens, what did I find in the absolute center of the pan but a CATERPILLAR!... and not just any old caterpillar, but a brownish-colored, slimy one... cooked to perfection.

EWW! was my response, but I tried to make the most of the situation, since I hate to throw away food, and flicked the little bugger into the trash using a spoon. I finished making the quesadilla, trying to convince myself that it would be ok, that I could handle eating this after finding a bug in it. I plated my food, sat down, took a bite and swallowed, and noticed the taste was off... like there had been a caterpillar demi-glaze. I tried to take another bite, but spat it out onto the plate, and threw the whole thing away.

I'm not hungry, anymore.

Time for a happy post

So, after looking over the last entry, I decided that it's time for some positive entries, and more frequent and regular. I'll try to post at least once every week, probably on a weekday morning, or after a particularly bountiful haul at the Neighborhood Farmers Market, either in the U-District, Ballard, or on Broadway.

But first, a report of my Memorial Day Weekend. I missed the Sunday farmers market, one of my most favoritest events, one I look forward to all week and actually willingly wake up early on my weekend for. But, when I woke up around 9am Sunday morning, got showered, started to get dressed and get ready to leave, my back decided it wanted me back in bed... for 2 days. That's right. I badly tweaked something in my back, and ended up needing muscle relaxers, unable to do anything myself for the first twelve hours. Poor Mr. Man had to take care of me, after we'd planned a nice, long, relaxing weekend. Oh well. He did a great job, and I was up and about, doing most of my normal activities and making dinner by Monday evening. Last night during class, though, I had to leave early, since sitting for over 2 hours straight doesn't seem to be in the cards for me, yet. And to top it off, Mr. Man started getting a toothache on Monday night. Hooray for 3-day holiday weekends!

I know, I know. I said happy entries. But I didn't lie, entirely. Here's what's in the cards for the next few weeks:

1. Tomorrow I'm planning to bake. [insert image of me skipping with joy.] I'm shooting for multiple baked goods, like some homemade banana bread, to use up the three very dark bananas that I stuck in the fridge, because I saw a single fruit fly in the kitchen one day and wanted to stop the spread of them. Where there's one... The summer heat is almost on us, and last year we were constantly at war with the little buggers, so this time I'm making preparations to avoid the battle entirely.

Anyway, I love banana bread, almost as much as Mom's zucchini bread. Still too early for that, though, even though there's organic zucchini at the grocery stores, but it's too small and comes from too far away, and I try to buy local. Hopefully I'll have enough banana bread loaves made that I can put one or two in the freezer for a later date. That, and there's few things better than a cool, tasty pastry—instead of a hot stuffy kitchen from baking all morning—on a hot summer day. With fresh freezer preserves. Hmm... Yummy.

Then, maybe I'll make a pie to use up the frozen blueberries and pie crusts that have been hiding in the back of the freezer for who-knows-how-long. Not that blueberry pie is a bad thing, especially when I add some frozen peaches to the mix, and if I use this recipe... Oh, yeah. This is going to be excellent.

2. Sunday night we're supposed to meet with some friends—whom we have seen far too little of—and my cousin for drinks and pizza at one of Mr. Man's favorite pizza joints in Georgetown. Hopefully he'll be feeling up to it, and we'll all have a great time.

3. I get to go on a trip with Mom to Spokane for the weekend, stay in a nice B&B, and go to an antique show.

Yeah, I'd say things are looking up.

Update: No need to worry about a hot stuffy kitchen on a hot summer day. It's been cold and rainy for almost a week (as of June 3.) Oh well, hopefully the extra rainfall will help prevent any droughts this summer.

Saturday Morning

Despite the weather being less than stellar, I managed to bring some sunshine into my Saturday morning.

I know, a bit early in the season for strawberries, but I couldn't resist them last night at the store.
[You'll soon find that I have a somewhat unhealthy obsession with perfect strawberries, and all manner of perfect foods.]

This was lovingly made from a Joy of Cooking recipe. I can't believe I ever lived without a copy of this invaluable cookbook. (I feel that I must admit that I did flub this recipe a bit. In my excitement to bake and taste them, I completely forgot the add the vanilla. But I think they're just as good without, since there's nothing to compete with the flavor of the berries.)

I wish I could overnight these to my mom for Mother's Day, tomorrow. Wouldn't that be great? Fresh, still hot from the oven, delivered right to your door. That would have been great when I first started college.

To all of you whose Saturday morning is looking a bit gloomy, please share in my ray of sunshine. Have a great week!

Pazz da dissue, pleadse...

I've been battling allergies for at least a week. Ok, I thought, no problem... But this year does seem a bit worse. I convinced myself it's because the forsythia bushes next door have grown bigger since last year.

But then it hit me. WHAM! Like a runaway John Deere. I caught a massive cold, and sometime around Wednesday or Thursday I realized my defeat, and marched off to bed.

Yesterday it was in the 40s and cloudy, I obviously wasn't missing anything. Then, Lo and Behold! Today it was at least 67° and sunny!!! And here I am stuck in bed with a pile of tissues the size of Mt. Everest and not even enough energy or motivation to go make myself a pot of tea.

You can only imagine my misery.

On Hold...

Well, the 10th is here, and we haven't given notice. That's right, we have yet to find the apartment, which is good because I've come down with a nasty cold and don't really want to get up in half an hour for class, let alone pack or clean anything.

One of the apartments I looked at has lowered their price, but Mr. Man is dragging his feet to go look at it himself because it's sort of a basement apartment, though it has everything I want in an apartment:

–a BIG window in the bathroom
–lots of light, both natural and electrical
–a closet off the living room big enough to fit a desk... and all of my yarn and Mr. Man's tools
–and gigantic kitchen... with a GAS STOVE!!!

And did I mention they've lowered the rent... TWICE?!

sigh

The hunt continues, but I still have that apartment bookmarked...

Here's hoping that any of you on the hunt catch your prize, and please, don't catch a cold.

It has begun...

The Great Apartment Hunt!

sigh.

I really do have a sort of love/hate relationship with apartment-hunting. On the one hand I love looking at new [to me] places to live, wondering where this piece of furniture will go, what it would be like to cook in this kitchen, and how and where I will be able to fit all of my fiber/yarn and other necessary objects into this oddly-sized closet/office.
On the other hand there's the constant running around, calling and waiting for return calls, trying to find something that not only is within your price range but also has all the necessities and little luxuries that one cannot live without.

I will not live without a hood over the stove again. Ever. Nor will I ever live in a place where there is no means for natural light to enter the bathroom.

Another exciting/depressing aspect of moving–at least for me–is going through your belongings and deciding what to keep and what to let go. I seem to have a sort of [read: chronic] pack-rat tendency, and recently came to the horrifying realization that I have entirely too much stuff. I think I got that from my mother, who hates it when people come over to her house and tell her, "Wow, you've got a lot of stuff!"
Odd that they keep buying her stuff for christmas that she doesn't need/want/use, though. Just a thought.
Anywho, I think my mother, being the youngest in a very large immigrant family, always had an unfulfilled need [desire?] to be able to have whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, without it being a hand-me-down, and not have to share it. Well, Mama, I love you dearly, but do you really need 150 snowmen? [Think I'm exaggerating? Come over for christmas sometime. I'll go through the whole house and count them with you... It will be great fun! I've done it almost every year for the last 6 years... and they just keep multiplying...]

eyes glaze over.

Hmm? Oh, right. Moving.
Mr. Man and I have decided that in order to save a little extra money, since we want to own a house someday [within the next century], we should downsize from a 2 bedroom groundfloor unit of a house converted to apartments, with a dining room and living room, and a deck you could house a small batallion on... to a 1 bedroom apartment.

...

I started in on my book collection last night. I do not have a shelf filled with books. I have shelves filled with my collection of books... one shelf for each of three rooms... Cookbooks in the kitchen; knitting, spinning, weaving, sewing, and other craft books in the living room; and travel, manga, poetry, memoirs, and other literary works in the dining room. When we started talking about moving, I swore to Mr. Man that I would not under any circumstances get rid of any of my cookbooks. Then last week I started looking at them, really looking. I don't ever cook Vietnamese food, I never get around to preparing sushi [let alone from 2 copies of the same book], I know how to make soup and don't need a 1000-page volume on it, and Martin Yan is not my favorite chef... No, that title is shared between Tony Bordain, Nigel Slater and very few others of the same type. I have a lot of cookbooks, I thought to myself, more than half of which I don't use.

I'm tossing over half. And by tossing I mean I'm taking them to the used book store. This is a good thing, because I'll actually get some money out of it... which I can use to buy more books... Yes, I like books. If there's a subject you can think of, I probably have had a book on it at some point in the last 10 years. Thankfully I'm getting over my stubbornness enough to allow some of Mr. Man's logic to seep in.

Last night I went through the collection in the dining room, and after one or so hours (I lost track, it was late, and my neck hurt like a demon) I had only gotten through maybe a quarter of those books. I had forgotten that I used to keep my old issues of Transworld Surf magazine. Oi. Thankfully I'd already gone through the knitting and other craft books, so that battle was already won.

Tomorrow I start on the kitchen.

huzzah.

I've also decided that, once the kitchen is cleaned, I'm going to go through the contents of the freezer and pantry, trying not to buy anything new except maybe some fresh stuff like eggs and milk. Did I mention that I love cooking, but am a horrid little beastie when it comes to even loading the dishwasher?

So, yeah. Once the kitchen's clean, the majority of dishes are getting packed away, recyclable plastic dishes shall be implemented, and 2 whole chickens, 1 bag of onion rings, 1 package of puff pastry, 1lb of peaches, 5lbs of blueberries, and various bags of frozen vegetables shall be consumed, as well as many cans of soy beans and adzuki beans, tomatoes, green beans, and much pasta and rice... mmm... I think that's a great excuse to create and enjoy a great big pot of chicken, rice and bean stew. I'll get right on it... I feel a second wave of motivation coming on.

When I get motivated enough, you could eat sushi off of my kitchen floor. Hopefully I'll get much better at doing that more regularly... in time.

[Stay tuned for more updates and hilarity on the Great Apartment Hunt and the Mass Possession Purge]

Happy Birthday, Mama! Now... SAVE THIS MAN'S LIFE!

Oh dear gods was this a memorable birthday for my mother!

First, we went to the NW Flower & Garden show, then Pike Place, so that was good. Flowers, plants, cheese, and outdoor markets, these are a few of her favorite things.

Then, I dropped her off at her hotel so she could rest for an hour before dinner, and I went home. (Dad had stayed at the hotel because he was pretty tired from the week.) I started some homework, then heard Mr. Man’s Zippo *clink* as he filled it with lighter fluid, then *clink* again, then the sound of flames being whipped through the air.

Oh crap, I thought. He’s set himself on FIRE!

Turns out a little of the fluid from his Zippo had dripped down his hand and arm, and when he lit it the flames caused 2nd degree burns on his fingers (that sounds so much more serious than saying he has blisters on his fingers, doesn’t it?) So I tried to help him take care of the wound while giving him space to be angry in general—and not at me—about the pain, then I went out to dinner with my parents.

About 30 minutes later, after we were seated and before dinner started, I was on the phone with Mr. Man to see how he was doing, when suddenly we heard a man yelling to my left. We looked over, and saw this man being helped out of his chair. I instantly thought (being closest to him) HEIMLICH! but when I ran over and saw his hands curled up to his chest and the look on his face, I realized I was out of my league, and made way for Mom: SUPER NURSE EXTRAORDINAIRE! I made myself useful by helping a couple of kids get out of harm’s way (out of sight of the man going into fits on the floor)

Mom helped calm the man down (he started yelling a few times), take his vitals and whatnot while a fireman (seated with his wife at our table) helped Mom and organized the ambulance pick-up on his cell phone and fed them the man’s medical history as dictated by his family. The ambulance finally arrived, and Mom was relieved of duty. Meanwhile, the patrons in that entire section of the restaurant had been re-seated elsewhere.

Turns out the man had had a seizure, had a history of seizures, had just had brain surgery AND was not on any anti-seizure medication! Poor fellow went into a seizure while sitting at the dinner table in a restaurant half-filled with children!

I was, of course, terrified, and tried my best to stay out of the way, seeing as I have no real medical training (the expired First Aid card in my wallet is proof) and I am a mega-klutz. My dad, nervous and worried for his wife, felt the need to hover over her head as she knelt on the floor with the injured man’s head in her lap.

Mom was a pro! Once the EMTs came in, she got up to wash her hands, sat down at our new table, and acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened… she did, however have more wasabi than usual with her sushi…Long story short, Mom was a hero on her birthday, and the restaurant manager didn’t even offer her free dessert! …just kidding.

But wait! There's more! While we waited for Mom and Dad’s cab to show up, the fireman and his wife came walking towards us from across the street. Their car had been towed! Great treatment of a hero, huh? TO THE RESCUE! Thankfully I had driven to the restaurant, and knew exactly where the impound lot was. It was cramped, my Jeep is in desperate need of a new carpet kit, and there was sawdust all over the seat, but they were extremely grateful for the ride. They even insisted on paying the fee for the parking garage. Seems I wasn’t completely useless this evening.

So, yeah. It was an interesting evening.

HAPPY FREAKIN BIRTHDAY TO THE KICKINEST MOM ALIVE!

Happiness is...

Friday.

Hot white chocolate mocha with not too much, but just enough sweetness.

Getting over the embarrassment and irritation of your man’s brother walking in on you after your shower.

Coming home after a crappy morning, a successful day, in a much better mood.

Cuddling with your man on the couch, listening to the sweet silence of an empty house.

Finally receiving an invitation to Ravelry.com

A ball of yarn.

Happiness is these things.