Yummies: Volume 8

I was somewhat delirious when I made my Sunday trip to the Farmers Market this past weekend. I had just experienced a major sinus attack and I wanted to be in and out of there as quickly as possible. In my delirium, I purchased an eggplant, a pint of cherry tomatoes, a head of kale, an onion, two carrots and a red pepper. I stopped at my local health food store on the way home to acquire some proteins for the week and I picked up a quinoa-polenta log, feta cheese, and some chicken-sausage - amongst some other snacking items. When I got home I just put everything away and forgot about it for a couple of days, until I had to make a meal for myself last night. Not remembering the last time I prepared eggplant, and kale being somewhat of a new addition to my Nor Cal diet, I was racking my brain for a tasty meal that incorporated my produce and wouldn't take too long to prepare. (Side note: Most of the brain-racking happened during my after work swim. I tend to get most of my culinary inspiration during workouts, probably because I can't wait to eat). So I made a quick decision to buy some tomato sauce on my way home from the pool, hoping that my purchase would somehow bring everything together. I knew I wanted to use the oven in some way so that I could multi-task while I prepared dinner. Just whip something together, throw it in the over, shower, eat and watch Glee. And that's exactly what I did.

Polenta Eggplant Saucy Deliciousness
Makes 4 servings

Ingredients:

• polenta log (like the one pictured above)
• two large tomatoes (I used cherry, but larger ones are easier to layer)
  
• one large eggplant
• one head of kale
• 1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
• 1 1/2 cups tomato sauce
• two Tablespoons of olive oil
• salt, pepper, red pepper flakes to taste

Preparation:

• preheat the over at 375 degrees
• drizzle 1 Tablespoon of olive oil in a 9x13 glass baking dish
• slice the polenta log into circular discs and lay across the dish
• top with sliced tomato
• top with sliced eggplant
• drizzle 1 Tablespoon of olive oil over the eggplant slices
• rip up the kale into smaller pieces and blanket over the eggplant
• cover in tomato sauce
• top with feta cheese, salt, pepper and red pepper flakes
• place in the top shelf in the over and bake for 30 minutes, or until sauce is bubbling and the cheese is starting to brown or melt
• let cool for a few minutes and serve

Notes:

• if you want to make a smaller portion, cut the recipe in half and use a round glass pie dish
• if you have leftovers, it makes for great lunch heated up for two minutes in the microwave

Franco is Ralston

On Friday I went to see 127 Hours with my boyfriend. I knew he would be one of few people that would see it with me, considering the plot and inevitably gory conclusion. When I first heard about the movie based on Aron Ralston's incredible true story, I was very eager to see Danny Boyle's interpretation of the story; and it was just as moving as I hoped it would be.


In the first scene of the film, Aron (James Franco) prepares himself for a seemingly routine trip to Blue John Canyon, Utah. He quickly moves around his apartment collecting various items (Gatorade, about a liter of water, oranges, burritos, climbing gear, a multi-tool knife, a video camera and a digital camera) as his answering machine plays a message from his sister, who is irritated that she hasn't heard from Aron in what seems like anywhere from a few days to a few months. As the first act progresses, our impression of Aron is an adventurous and somewhat quirky outdoors man. He moves eagerly with an air of experience, acting as though he grew up in these canyons. He knows the history of the area and the ins and outs of all the crevices. I found myself becoming envious of someone who could be so brave and sure, willing to take risks and go off on his own adventure, seemingly without any obligations to his friends and family. This envy quickly turned into concern in the second act of the film when Aron finds himself trapped in a canyon after a rock falls and pins his arm.


As he's stuck there for five days, he toils through the emotions of panic, pain, regret, sorrow, delirium, bravery and determination. Throughout the film, Boyle inserts sequences of Aron's memories, delusions and premonitions - everything that goes through the mind of a person who is determined to live but prepared to die. The combination of Franco's incredible acting and Boyle's artful direction accurately and eloquently depicts the most harrowing story of survival that I have ever encountered.


If you haven't heard the rest of the story, I recommend reading this. Not to ruin the ending of the movie, but he amputates his own arm. It's really not all that unbearable to watch if you don't squirm at the sight of blood; and honestly, it has to be a little gory for it to be an accurate portrayal of Ralston's experience. But it's all worth watching for the last five minutes of the film, where I found myself so moved by the sight of his freedom that I was sobbing uncontrollably. I can only imagine how Aron felt.

Will the real Mark Zuckerberg please stand up?

Last week I read The Rumpus' Elissa Bassist's "review" (or rather, mockery) of the film, The Social Network. You may have heard of the film by David Fincher and Aaron Sorkin (that guy from Entourage) about the Harvard student who creates an online social network that rises to fame overnight; also known as Facebook - which you have probably heard of unless you have been trapped in a mine for the last five years.

I have to admit, the movie is pretty damn entertaining; even if Bassist is totally spot-on that the film is loaded with testosterone and belittles the woman's role in social revolution: "Women are there to blow the dick, excite the dick, but not wield the dick." Much of the film consists of hot, oversexed Asian women throwing themselves at Mark Zuckerberg (played by Jesse Eisenberg) and his fellow entrepenuers, including one scene in a bathroom stall where Jesse's character's pants drop to the floor and his date gets down on her knees (don't get too excited guys, all you see are her stilettos and his jeans around his ankles). Later in the film, there is another scene in which two young girls are taking rips from a five-foot bong while men sit "wired in" at computers, building what is to become the most successful website of our generation.

Sorkin paints a picture of a sex-obsessed asshole who uses his vast computer knowledge to make something "cool" - even if it means stealing ideas from other programmers, comparing his ex-girlfriend to a farm animal, shamelessly pushing his best friend out of their company and showing up to an investors meeting in a bathrobe and slippers. The Mark Zuckerberg that viewers experience in The Social Network is cold, arrogant and somewhat aloof.

I've never met Mark Zuckerberg, but I have a lot of friends who work with him at Facebook who say he's nothing like the guy that Sorkin depicts in the film. I read the article in New Yorker that was written a couple of weeks ago, which I felt was a pretty non-biased description of Zuckerberg and the evolution of his success. In one sense, he's just a nerdy guy who's made some lucky business decisions. On the other hand, he's one of the youngest billionaires in the world and you don't just get there by being lucky. He has a vision of what he wants Facebook to become:

"Zuckerberg imagines Facebook as, eventually, a layer underneath almost every electronic device. You’ll turn on your TV, and you’ll see that fourteen of your Facebook friends are watching “Entourage,” and that your parents taped “60 Minutes” for you. You’ll buy a brand-new phone, and you’ll just enter your credentials. All your friends—and perhaps directions to all the places you and they have visited recently—will be right there."

While I might not agree with the idea of doing things solely because your friends are doing them, I think he makes a valid point in that people are attracted to the same things that their friends are - why else would we be friends with them?

I think back to the days in my freshman dorm room at Washington University in St. Louis when my friend's older brother (a senior at Princeton) urged us to join TheFacebook.com, as our school was the twelfth university to be added to the exclusive network. We were in the middle of finals and the only thing we could concentrate on was this silly website where you could add friends and see their photo, interests and what classes they were taking. There was no messaging, no walls, no photos... nothing that Facebook has today - except for the Poke, which I still use every so often when I am trying to remind people what Facebook used to be. Don't get me wrong; I love where it's taken us and I'm excited to see where it's going. My generation is defined by communication, and I believe that Facebook is the most efficient means of online communication. That is, for people that use it as regularly as I do.

Yummies: Volume 7

Last night I really felt like cooking something, but I hadn't been to the grocery store or farmers market this past weekend so I wasn't sure what resources were available to me. After a glance in my fridge and pantry, I realized that I had enough vegetables (that, frankly, needed to be consumed that night or they would start rotting) and starches to make some kind of pasta. But pasta wasn't enough work for me; I needed something more involved. I started chopping vegetables and figured it would come to me once I started cooking. I started sauteing, and my roommate walked in the kitchen and asked me what I was making for dinner. "I'm not exactly sure," I said. "Just cooking everything I have." Oh," she said, "everything but the kitchen sink!"


Kitchen Sink Risotto

Ingredients:

• an assortment of vegetables (i.e. mushroom, bell pepper (any color, but green or purple is best), onion, zucchini, scallions, spinach, squash, etc.)
• two garlic cloves
• 2 Tablespoons of olive oil
  
• 1 cup of chicken or vegetable broth
• orzo (wheat or regular, but I prefer wheat)
• Israeli cous cous (optional)
• 1/4 cup black olives (optional)
  
• 2 Tablespoons of grated Parmesan cheese
• salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:

• heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat
  
• heat a pot of water to boil, with a little bit of kosher salt
  
• chop garlic and add to olive oil, saute for a couple of minutes before it gets brown
• chop all vegetables into small, bite size pieces
  
• add the harder vegetables first (pepper, zucchini) and saute for a few minutes
• start adding the softer vegetables (onion, mushroom, scallion) and saute
• add the spinach and saute for a minute before it wilts too much
• if using black olives, chop them and add with the spinach
  
• by now, your water is probably boiling so add the orzo (and/or Israeli cous cous) and a teaspoon of olive oil - let it boil for only about 4 minutes, just to soften it up a bit but not so it's fully cooked
• add 2/3 cup of chicken or vegetable broth to the vegetables and lower the heat to let it simmer
• strain the orzo, then add to the skillet with vegetables
• add the remaining broth, and cover over medium-low heat for 5 to 10 minutes, or until the orzo is cooked and the broth has absorbed
• add salt and pepper to taste, and Parmesan cheese.
  
• stir to mix, and serve hot!

Notes:

• When using wheat pasta, it takes a bit longer to cook. This is why you soften it up a little bit first in the boiling water. If you're using regular pasta, then you can just add it dry to the vegetable mixture with all of the broth at once.
• Israeli cous cous is a great orzo substitute - or supplement. I used both because I had a little bit of both and I wanted to make a larger serving. You can find Israeli cous cous in the ethnic section of most grocery stores.
• The black olives make the taste a little more Mediterranean, and they go great with the spinach and zucchini.
• The vegetables can be freshly bought, or they can be on their last legs - as long as they're ripe and in good shape them throw them in!

Someone Told Me It's All Happening at the Zoo

I awoke to another sunny day in San Francisco this morning and met my friend for brunch in Hayes Valley. (Note: this summer has been so cold. We're talking 50's. Last week we had a heat wave for a couple of days, and then it dropped back down to the 60's. So when I wake up to sunshine on the weekend when I can actually enjoy it and I'm not sitting behind a desk in a dark room that faces a pigeon-filled alley way, I get a little excited.)

After brunch, my friend and I wanted to take advantage of this sunny day and do something exciting in the city. So we eagerly decided to take the MUNI across town to the San Francisco Zoo, a place neither of us had ever been since living here. The MUNI ride was a little sketchy. There was a foul BO stench for the majority of the ride (not unusual) and we rode the L line through parts of the city that I didn't even know existed. Such as, Forest Hill: SF's very own Stepford community.

Once we arrived to the Sunset District where the zoo is, I realized that my outfit of shorts, a tank top and a short-sleeved cartigan - an appropriate choice for brunch in Hayes Valley - was a very big mistake. Had I known we were going to the foggiest neighborhood in San Francisco, I may have opted to wear more clothes. After checking out the $40 oversized zip-up sweatshirts in the gift shop, I decided to buck up and stick out the weather and the dirty looks from old people who were offended by my bare skin in a family place.

We then realized that we overlooked the fact that the zoo is a place for small children. Though children in a zoo can be incredibly obnoxious, this made for amusement at times. Especially at the primate exhibit when we overheard a seven-year-old boy say to his father, "I'm really bored." Apparently so were the animals, because with the exception of the galloping giraffes, most of them had their backs turned to the spectators as though they were trying to punish us.

Many of the animals seemed very sad, and it made me second-guess the idea of viewing caged animals. Lots of them had very little space to roam, and many of them were in areas alone with no other animals to mingle with. I did enjoy the penguin feeding, and the man who was caring for this injured bald eagle was quit interesting, in an awkward eye contact kind of way. We encountered a very relaxed kangaroo, and I chased a roaming peacock around for a couple of minutes until it got frighteningly territorial.

Everything else was sort of just eh, and the foggy weather wasn't helping my disposition. Maybe I have grown to expect a lot from zoos since my vast experience consists of consistent trips to the San Diego Zoo and the Wild Animal Park (now known as the Safari Park) when I was growing up, but I really wasn't impressed by what the San Francisco Zoo had to offer. I think what excited me the most was the gift shop filled with fluffy stuffed animals. I love stuffed animals.

Tout Seul a le Cinema

One of my favorite things to do by myself is to go to the movies, especially if it's a movie that might make me cry a little. There's something about it that's so liberating and calming; watching and thinking and quietly crying to yourself in a dark theatre surrounded by strangers.


So this past Saturday, I awoke at 9am (internal alarm clock sucks) and showered off Friday night's festivities. Then I picked up a bagel and iced tea at the corner cafe and hopped on a bus to the AMC 14 to see a 10:50am showing of The Kids Are All Right, a film I have been wanting to see since I read rave reviews from this year's Sundance. Though I probably could have found a few people to see it with me, I was tired of waiting on the agendas of friends. And I knew it was the perfect movie to see alone; whereas if I had seen Inception without the party of five that joined me, I would have been utterly disappointed when I had nobody to debrief me on the timeline of dreams.


When I walked into the theatre there were about fifteen people already seated, most of whom were in groups of 2 or 3, but a few solo viewers like myself. I settled into my seat, lifted my feet to rest on the seat in front of me, and silenced my phone - normal things one would do when attending the movies with friends. Fortunately, the previews weren't too enticing and nothing I hadn't already seen so I didn't feel left out when I had nobody next to me to whisper "I want to see that!"

Now, on to the film itself... You may have heard some ignorant folk describe this film as "the lesbian movie" - so wrong. Yes, there are two lesbian women in the film who play the role of the concerned parents, Julianne Moore and Annette Bening. They worry that their son might be getting into trouble with his crude friend, they're proud of their daughter's high school accomplishments but sad about her going off to college, and they work hard on keeping their marriage successful - with regards to sex, social activities, and of course playfully picking at each others faults. Sounds like "normal" straight parents, right?


This is not a family film, but it is certainly about family. When Joanie, the daughter played wonderfully by Mia Wasikowska, turns eighteen her fifteen-year-old brother, Laser (Josh Hutcherson) - who is longing for a fatherly relationship like the ones he sees with his pals and their dads - begs her to reach out to the sperm doner who is seemingly an integral part of their family. After some thought, Joanie reaches out to the sperm bank and gives permission to be reached by her doner, Paul (Mark Ruffalo). Paul is a motorcycle-riding, successful farmer/local restaurant owner who we later find out dropped out of college because it "wasn't his thing" to pursue his passion for cooking. Needless to say, the moms aren't thrilled to learn of their kids evolving relationship with Paul, but they try to embrace it for the sake of their children. Paul is more than happy to acquire his insta-family without the real burdens of fatherhood, but he soon learns that parenting is a lot harder than it seems - or does he?

Without giving too much away on the plot, I will say that there are some unexpected turns and folds that will leave you aching and tearing up, making you feel as though you're a part of this onscreen family. I cried. Twice. It felt great. Julianne Moore and Mark Ruffalo are outstanding as their characters, and Ruffalo may even get a Golden Globe nod. Wasikowska shines once again, proving that this is only the beginning of what's going to be a tremendous career in acting, but the real show-stopper is Bening. Her portrayal of a tense, worrisome mother who balances running her house with her demanding job as a doctor, indulging in the more than occasional glass of wine to calm herself down (that description sounds eerily like my own father) - is exquisite and outstanding. The film was a truly wonderful and eye-opening viewing experience, and I recommend it to anyone who does or doesn't know a thing or two about family - I think that includes all of us. And if you can't find anyone to join you, catch a weekend matinee... tout seul.

Einstein and Petit

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed."
-Albert Einstein

My boyfriend shared this quote with me last night after we watched Man On Wire, a film we both have been wanting to see for quite some time. We agreed that while the scientific part of the quote was represented by the Great Albert Einstein, the artistic element fit well with the life outlook of Philippe Petit. Both men shared the seemingly effortless ability to challenge ideology; I'm sure they would be great friends if they had ever crossed paths.


What struck me most about the film was the reaction of those who were close to Petit at the time he crossed the twin towers. They were frightened for him, but much more than that they desperately wanted to see him succeed. His girlfriend at the time, Annie Allix, was interviewed for the film. Years after they parted ways (shortly after Petit walked across the towers), she still had this look of awe on her face as she described the beauty she felt when she was watching Phillipe on a wire.


Like Einstein, those who didn't know Petit thought he was crazy for taking such a risk. But the documentary reveals the world inside Phillipe's mind; it shows the viewer the inspiration and the mystery behind the man.

"To me, it's really so simple, that life should be lived on the edge. You have to exercise rebellion. To refuse to tape yourself to the rules, to refuse your own success, to refuse to repeat yourself, to see every day, every year, every idea as a true challenge. Then you will live your life on the tightrope."
-Phillipe Petit

My Own Personal Hell

DMV, Department of Motor Vehicles - the worst form of torture that exists.

I arrived at the San Francisco DMV yesterday at 8:50am. There was a line of people out and around the building, waiting to receive paperwork to begin the process of obtaining identification. Behind me was a guy who was kinda wacked out, missing some teeth; he wanted to "get his life back together", which meant getting a photo i.d. In front of me was an inpatient teenager and her annoying mother who chatted on the phone nonstop. Other line attendees included a short, angry Spanish man who had an affinity for the word "fuck", a woman who thought she was a stand-up comedian, and a young thug with ice in his ears who was trying to pass his permit test for the third time.

The majority of the people who arrived after me were just as baffled as the line, and thought it somehow didn't apply to them. I found myself thinking, why is everyone so surprised? It's the DMV - of course there is going to be a long wait. But I had no idea the hell that was brewing around me...

After an hour of waiting outside, I finally reached the desk and received paperwork to apply for a California Driver's License. Once I filled it out, I was given a number: G123. I looked at the current number in the G sections (there were also numbers beginning with E, H, I and J in the mix) - G034. Fuck. Bookless and ipodless, I wanted to go to my nearby apartment and wait it out for a while and come back with my number in an hour or so. But I stuck it out in fear I would miss my number being called. It was kind of nice to sit down for a while and raise my braced leg up on one of the chairs. But then my back and my ass started to hurt because I sat there for about two and a half hours.

When G123 was finally called, I gathered my belongings and locked my leg brace and marched up to the teller at counter #7. This is it, I thought! Done, finally! Wrong. After spending about five minutes with the teller filling out necessary paperwork, she pointed me in line to wait to get my photo taken. Another 15 minutes, not so bad. 1, 2, 3, smile, flash! Then I was pointed to wait in line to receive my written test. With only two people working the front desk and another at lunch. A mean woman was checking people's tests and giving them their temporary license, and an awkward man was providing paperwork and numbers to people arriving. There wasn't anyone to pass out tests to the people waiting, so our line was at a stand-still for the first 20 minutes I was standing in it. There was a lag in people checking in, so our line started to move about, then came to a halt again when the awkward man had to attend to the other line. In all, I waited 45 minutes in a line of 12 people to receive the written exam.

I got the exam, hobbled to a test taking counter and knocked it out in under four minutes. By then, the line inside the test-taking area to hand in your exam was about 25 people crammed into a 20x10 space with other people taking their tests. It was pretty cozy. I had been standing for over an hour at this point, and my leg was starting to stiff up. I told the person I was behind to save my place in line so I could rest at the handicap seat for a little bit. Just when I was starting to get the feeling back in my knee, I'm tapped on the shoulder by a woman with a Polish accent who looked about 7 1/2 months pregnant. "Ma'am, can you please stand up so I can sit down and finish taking my test?" (Earlier I had seen this woman cheat the system by demanding a lower number so that she could be seen quickly.) I was speechless. Did she see my leg brace? Did she understand I was more "handicap" than her? It's not my fault she got herself knocked up. You didn't see me cheating the system because I had a bum leg, I waited it out with all of the other able-bodied people. But of course, I got up and gave her a mean glare as if to say "I hope your baby looks like a monkey." No more than ten minutes later, the preggo woman gets up and marches to the counter, skipping everyone in line, and hands in her test. If I was running the DMV, I wouldn't have tolerated that bullshit. Even if the woman looked like this:

My total wait time: 5+ hours. Did I get my license? Yeah, and I got a 34/36 on the exam. I'm now the proud owner of a California state temporary driver's license. We'll see if they actually send the real one.

Makeover!

I was inspired to give my blog a makeover today when I came across the blog of my friend, Emily. I was getting kind of bored with the old orange layout, and I needed something that was more "Kelsey" - I think this is a pretty good fit.

This was a nice distraction from reading the California DMV handbook all day long. With the week off to recover from my knee surgery, I decided I would finally get my CA license tomorrow - after nearly three years of living here. Apparently it's illegal to drive in California with an out-of-state license if you've lived here longer than six months and are registered to vote. I'm hoping I can somehow keep my New York license for nostalgic reasons, but I have a feeling the DMV won't let me. I wonder what top I'm going to wear for my license photo....

Redecorating my blog was also a nice distraction from the mouse in my house that has been taunting me all day. Not only did it enter the corner of my room - TWICE - but it somehow managed to escape from a crevice in the bathroom that has not been plugged up with expanding foam. Tricky little bastards, aren't they? And what the hell is it doing in the bathroom? Shouldn't it be looking for food in the kitchen? Am I dealing with an anorexic mouse? My roommates are not fans of deadly mouse traps or extermination, so I've decided to take matters into my own hands. I placed a sticky trap on the floor of the spot that the mouse keeps returning to. I figure I can do what I want since it's my bedroom. The only downside is that I will have to dispose of the paper/mouse if I actually manage to catch it. Gross.

In any case, I hope you like the makeover!

Rehab

Yesterday was the date of my long-awaited ACL reconstruction surgery. It's hard to believe that it was a whole six months ago that the tear occurred while skiing in Lake Tahoe - and I've been walking around in boots and heels since then (no doubt, with a drunken fall here and there) with little to no pain. And now I am laying in a cozy bed in my mom's room at the Hotel Monaco with a huge brace over my leg, and Vicodin, Toradol, water and crackers by my bedside.

Those two nubs sticking out of the top of my brace are for the cold therapy unit that I use 6 hours a day, provided by Liberty Health Services. (The unit costs $200 and is not covered by insurance, so essentially I own it. I'm not sure if I'll find any use for this afterward, but I guess it's pretty cool - no pun intended.) I fill a cooler with ice and water, which is hooked up to a tube that clips into the openings under the nubs. The ice water is then dispensed into the packets surrounding my leg under the brace. It's basically a quick and easy way to provide continuous icing to the surgery location.

I also have to use a CPM machine 4 hours a day, also provided by Liberty Health Services and covered by my insurance plan with a small co-pay. I can use this at the same time as the cold therapy unit, or separately. The CPM helps move my knee, so I can gradually bend it from 40 degrees to 100 degrees. It's actually pretty comfy (though, very heavy), and was delivered directly to my mom's hotel room by a nice man named Chase.

By the way, the actual surgery went pretty smoothly! After checking in at the CPMC Outpatient Center, a young volunteer brought me into the pre-op room and told me, "I've never done this before so I'm not really sure what happens next." I think he was in high school, maybe. I told him he should probably refrain from telling his patients that he was clueless. After that a nice nurse named Mercy came in and taught me how to use my crutches (which I'm a pro at) and hooked me up to my IV. I was worried about my IV because in my wrist surgery two year ago, it took the nurse four tries to find a vein that was big enough to hold the IV. But Mercy got it in with one try in a vein below my left wrist.

At noon (my scheduled surgery time), a murse brought me to the OR area of the hospital. He brought me into a meeting room where I would discuss the procedure with my surgeons, and plugged a tube into my hospital gown that blew in hot air. My surgeon, Dr. Lesley Anderson came in and met with me and signed my left leg with her initials. Then the extremely good-looking anesthesiologist, Vince, came in and told me about the nerve blocking option in my femoral artery to alleviate pain after the surgery (I'm allergic to morphine). He was so good looking that I just agreed to whatever he suggested.

The last person to come meet me was Nurse Olivia. She brought me into the operating room, which was filled with bright lights, TV screens, lots of big machines, and 7 or 8 doctors. They started to hook me up to various machines and cover me up. Vince gave me what he called "an appetizer" through my IV - a small dose of pain meds that calms you down while they're poking and prodding you with needles. He numbed the crease in my upper thigh and shot me with the nerve block. He explained that I was going to have muscle spasms in my leg, and that meant it was working correctly. It definitely felt weird, but I was glad it was working. Meanwhile, Dr. Anderson was looking for a vein in my arm to draw blood for the allograft. Of course, she couldn't find one and so she decided to wait until I was asleep. Then Dr. Vince told me to think of my vacation spot - I obviously chose Bora Bora - and I was out before I knew it.

When I woke up, Nurse Susan was helping me manage my pain. She brought me down from a 7 to a 4 with a little bit of Demeral. We talked about the Yankees and Broadway as I drifted in and out of lucidness. Once my pain was managed, she brought me to the recovery room where my mom was waiting for me. They gave me some saltines, water, graham crackers and apple juice and after about an hour of rest, I was able to get up with my crutches and use the bathroom. Go me!

All in all, it was a very successful surgery and I feel much better than I thought I would. Although I can't move around all that much, I'm not complaining about being stuck in a hotel room with TV, room service and my mom.

Eating My Way Through NOLA

New Orleans: the city of bourbon, bistro, and Brandon!

This past weekend I went to visit my close friend, Brandon at his new home in New Orleans. Brandon moved to NOLA from SF a few months ago, and I've missed him dearly. When Brandon was living here, we spent most of our time together shopping at the farmers market, cooking dinners, drinking wine, and exploring new hot spots in San Francisco. I have not since found a foodie friend to replace him, and I am currently accepting applicants.

The last time I had visited New Orleans was when I was seventeen-years-old - a senior in high school - visiting my older friend at Tulane as a prospective student. Needless to say, this time around was an entirely new experience. Not only was it my first visit since Hurricane Katrina, but saw the city from the perspective of someone who lives in the French Quarter, dines with local farmers in mind, prefers Trefethen s.i.n. Rose to Pat O'Brien's Hurricanes, and has a car.

I arrived at New Orleans airport at approximately 11:15pm. This was after two legs of flight in first class (thanks to American Airline miles), 3 large glasses of wine, and a vodka cocktail. Read: I was pretty drunk already. Brandon picked me up and we drove back to his spacious and beautiful studio apartment on Royal Street. After changing into something more appropriate for the thick 90 degree heat, we opted for a drink at the Carousel Bar in Hotel Monteleone. One drink was clearly enough, as I was already drunk and the room was spinning (literally, the bar spins in a slow circle as you're served drinks), and it was a Thursday night so Brandon had to wake up early for lunch.

The next day I was on my own for the morning. With a key to the apartment, a flowing skirt and tank top and a mission to shop, I was off in the French Quarter!

I didn't get very far down Royal Street before Brandon called me to tell me to grab an umbrella before meeting him for lunch since the sky looked like it was about to open up and release buckets of rain. Before heading back to the apartment, I did manage to purchase a few small items like spices, a magnet, measuring spoons and some Hanky Panky thongs (my favorite). I met Brandon on the corner of Canal and St. Charles and he whisked me away to lunch at one of his favorite spots, Cochon Butcher. We stood in a long line waiting to order, then took our seats at the bar - according to Brandon, "we would get better service" at the bar. We sipped on homemade iced tea and waited for our lunches to arrive, about 5 minutes after we ordered. While he delved into the brisket special, I feasted on the pastrami sandwich - a Creole take on the Ruben. YUM!

Brandon told me that this place was the kid brother restaurant to the larger and more fancy Cochon next store. Both use practice sustainability and specialize in Cajun dishes. And Brandon was right, we did get better service at the bar. We exchanged stories of the East Coast with the servers and talked about food in New Orleans. It was a lovely first meal experience in NOLA for me!

Later that evening, Brandon took me on a drive through New Orleans' Garden District and pointed out the homes of Sandra Bullock and John Goodman, as well as some other historical mansions. We had dinner at Lilette, a new-ish Creole Restaurant on Magazine Street, and one of Brandon's favorite spots to dine. We shared a bottle of Grüner Veltliner - my pick - and ordered some appetizers to start. Brandon got the beef short ribs with cucumber and lime-ginger vinaigrette, and I ordered the Braised veal cheeks with baby greens and horseradish vinaigrette. Both were delicious, but my entree took the cake: Paneed red snapper with Israeli cous cous, leeks, tomato and ver jus mussel butter. Even Brandon was drooling over it, though his grilled Mahi Mahi with braised escerole, leek puree and satsuma-basil butter was almost as perfect as mine. We happily agreed to skip dessert because we were so pleasantly full, and to outsource the calories on the many bevvies that were to come.

Our next stop was Columns Hotel, an old Bed & Breakfast that boasts various large rooms with high ceilings and tables outside and inside to sit and enjoy a drink. We waited for his friend to meet us, and the three of us had three rounds of drinks consisting of mint juleps, bourbon and coke, and vodka and soda. We decided it was time to hit the next spot just a few meters away at Delachaise. I ordered a whopping double vodka and soda and we sat outside on the patio, making plans for the rest of the weekend. We headed back downtown where we separated from Brandon's friend and made one more stop at Bar Tonique, which was a near split image to one of my favorite bars in San Francisco, Alembic. I nursed a strong gin drink called The Last Word (gin, lime juice, green chartreuse, and maraschino liqueur) while Brandon sipped on a Pimm's Cup. A delicious end to a delectable night.

Saturday we slept until 10am and got dressed for brunch in the Bywater district. Brandon took me to Satsuma, a hippy-dippy organic place with five staffers, a small but affordable menu, an assortment of tables outside and inside, and of course free wifi. Are we in San Francisco? Brandon later explained to me that this neighborhood was in fact the more Bohemian area of the city, with brightly painted houses and small cafes and shops, and if you turn the corner you may find yourself in the Ghetto - a lot like the Mission district in San Francisco. After brunch, Brandon gave me a tour of the Lower Ninth Ward, the area of the city that suffered the most devastation after Hurricane Katrina hit five years ago. First he took me to the Doullut Steamboat Houses, two very special and historic homes in New Orleans, one of which Brandon's friend owns and lives in.

We then drove through the area that Brad Pitt's company has been rebuilding. The houses were very modern and interesting looking, all on stilts to protect them from floods. While the seemed to solve the issues of flooding, they don't look very much like typical New Orleans homes. But kudos to Brad for using his money and fame to make better homes for people in need!

By this point, it was so damn hot outside and Brandon's car AC only worked when we drove fast, so we decided we best sneak inside one of the hotel roof deck pools in his neighborhood for an afternoon swim. I was so worried that we would get caught, but we slowly realized that nearly everyone who was sitting by the pool were locals who must have got their bright and early to claim the pool deck chairs. We even met one girl who claimed she was "not a fan" of San Francisco, and the people were "snobby and uptight." Mmm hmm. Go back to your Rickys and Ronnies. We left the pool shortly after to dine on some creole tomatoes, mozzarella and fresh basil from Brandon's balcony planters - and of course the Trefethen Rose that I trekked across country. Our buzz and heat exhaustion called for a much-needed nap. When I awoke, it was pouring rain with thunder and lightening. This lasted about 30 minutes, and then the sun came back out. At least I got to witness at least one of NOLA's infamous summer afternoon storms.

Later that evening, after we were well-rested, showered, and dressed for dinner, we headed back to Magazine Street to eat at Bistro Daisy, a small American bistro restaurant featuring seasonal and local dishes. I ordered a heaping glass of Duckhorn Decoy Zinfandel and we selected our appetizers. For me, jumbo lump crab and gulf shrimp in aioli with artichokes, new potatoes, petite croutons and chives; for Brandon, grilled sweetbreads with lemon supremes, fried capers and toasted pinenuts in a browned butter. Both were fantastically prepared, with all of the flavors melding together in every bite. For my entree, I chose the lamb with risotto and tomato-mint reduction while Brandon dined on the fish special (which I can't remember because I was so immersed in my lamb and Zinfandel). We again opted to skip dessert, but were pleasantly surprised when we were brought a dish of homemade ice cream - for free! It was literally the icing on the cake.

After dinner, we went back to Brandon's house to change into our evening clothes. After enjoying some bourbon and coke drinks at the apartment, we took to the streets to enjoy some live music and Bourbon Street entertainment. We stopped at DBA and Mimi's, and from here it gets kind of fuzzy - in true New Orleans fashion. We finished off the night with a stop at a taco stand, a five block cab ride back to Brandon's house (apparently I refused to walk), and an expensive faux New York hot dog that lead us to loudly imitate/mock the New Jersey accent for the next 30 minutes or so.

Fortunately my flight on Sunday wasn't until late in the afternoon, so we were able to nurse our hangovers and enjoy a homemade breakfast while watching one of our favorite movies, Sleepy Hollow. Once we were motivated enough to leave the house, we spent some more time walking around the French Quarter doing window shopping at antique stores, history shops, jewelers and a very small but entertaining sex shop. To ease the beads of sweat dripping down our face, we stopped at a small Popsicle shop owned by a woman from Nashville. I highly recommend stopping in this place if you find yourself in the French Quarter on a hot day.

I could not have asked for a more pleasurable experience during this trip. Not only did I get to spend time with one of my best friends, but I got to see a side of New Orleans that I didn't know existed. Special thanks to Brandon for one of the best weekends this summer will bring me!

Since I've Been Gone

Every week for the last two months, I have thought to myself: "ACK! I really need to write a blog post this week... I'll get to it later tonight, after I browse the Internet for a few hours, go for a swim, attend a few office events, exercise, do some work for AsiaWheeling, watch my favorite TV shows, have dinner with my boyfriend... shit it's 1am and I have to go to bed. There's no time to blog!"

I know, I know. I could have made time. But here is what I was doing instead....

SHN, the company I work for, began Peter Pan performances on April 27 and we had the official opening for the show on May 12. Combined with the three or four other shows I was working on, along with the 10/11 Season marketing campaign, I had little to no time at work to accomplish anything that wasn't work-related - Facebook being the only exception because that actually counts as work.

When I wasn't working or attending fancy events for work - like the opening of the Birth of Impressionism Exhibit at the DeYoung Museum - I had several visitors coming to town. Three of my closest girlfriends from college cam to San Francisco for Bay to Breakers weekend. Also joining them were two other friends of mine from college and although one opted to stay at a hotel downtown, the other four made a home out of my living room for the weekend. There was lots of fun had, lots of pizza eaten, lots of booze drank - and one very cute clay mate. A couple weeks later my best friend, Lucy came for a visit! We accomplished pretty much everything on out list of activities: brunch at Park Chalet, semi-matching tattoos behind our ears, Sex and the City 2 (loved it), spoonful of happiness at Sushi Koo, fancy hotel party at W, mucho bar hopping, Napa Valley wine tasting, late night burritos, celebrating the 21st birthday of one very drunk boy, and a near-disaster ride to the airport. Ahh, the joys of hosting.

As some of you know, I tore my ACL back in January when I was skiing in Lake Tahoe. I didn't find out it was torn until March when a MRI was finally ordered. Since then I have been working to strengthen the muscles in my legs to prepare for the surgery on July 8. I've been biking more, doing physical therapy exercises, some moderate elliptical and upper body strengthening, and swimming! Swimming is my new favorite form of exercise. I swam when I was a little girl, and my boyfriend got me back into it when he started to dabble with training for a triathlon (side note: he has since decided to first run the San Francisco Marathon). I've found that swimming is really the only form of exercise where I am completely relaxed, yet the level of adrenaline that surges through me is incomparable to anything I have experienced at the gym. The first day I swam, I did 6 laps (12 legs) - which was more than I expected! Now I am swimming 30 laps (60 legs) combined with 10 laps (20 legs) of kick boarding interspersed between every 10 laps of freestyle. In short, I feel great! I recommend swimming to anyone who is looking for a new and easy way to exercise.

Because of my ACL tear, I was unable to play on my softball league this spring - but that didn't stop me from being a part of the team, the one and only Master Batters. I started Master Batters (which is part of a social/beer league in San Francisco) last year when I was looking for something to activate my social life. I took on the role of Captain/Manager/Coach and played catcher for two straight seasons. But this year when I was sidelined, I took my Coaching role much more seriously and with the help of my team, developed some new strategies and recruited some new players. Though we only won two games this season (one was a forfeit from the other team), we managed to make it to the B League playoffs. After clobbering the #1 seeded team in the first round of playoffs, we were sent to round 2 to play the #4 seed. The Master Batters beat them pretty badly, and we were sent to the finals on the next field over where we were to play the #2 seeded team. And wadaya know, we beat them too! WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN GATE SPORTS AND SOCIAL CLUB SOFTBALL CHAMPIONSHIP! A true Cinderella story for you, folks. Just goes to show that teamwork and enthusiasm always make a winning combination (a good bat makes a difference too). And the icing on the cake? We won the championship on the night of my 25th birthday.


Yes, that's right. I turned 25 this year. I'm a quarter-century old. I had a short-lived, but intense, panic attack two days before my birthday. Some may call it a quarter life crisis. There was hyperventilating, crying, incapacity... some may have even mistaken me for a hobo as I laid on the grass outside of the Civic Center listening to Bob Marley to try and cool off. I did, and I continued to draw out my birthday celebrations for an entire week; including, but not limited to, dining out every night of the week, indulging in expensive wine, taking off work for my birthday and spending the night in a hotel downtown, and of course an elaborate party filled with friends and blackout punch. Thank you to all my friends and family who provided me with such a wonderful birthday celebration! Same time next year?

Some other minor highlights:

• I got a haircut.
• I purchased a few new pairs of jeggings.
• I've been doing freelance marketing for this great adventure-travel blog called AsiaWheeling (check it out!)
• I quit smoking.... cigarettes, that is.
  
• I learned how to cook scallops.
• I visited New Orleans and had a fabulous time!
  
• I didn't get iced.
  

The World of Johnnie Walker

Last night I attended a whiskey tasting with some friends. We heard about it through our softball team, and we agreed it would be an excellent way to spend a Monday night - especially with a mere $5 donation fee.

Upon arrival, we were checked in by some beautiful (well, more like "hot") women in short black dresses and high black heals. When I first saw them, I wondered if there was some kind of sultry dress code, but we would later learn that these were the Johnnie Walker Women. After checking our IDs and asking survey questions like "Is Johnnie Walker your favorite Whiskey?" or "How many alcoholic beverages have you consumed in the last 4 weeks?" (the highest option was 16-30, which is what we all chose), we were ushered into a warehouse-like event space, of the typical SOMA variety.

After escalating 3 flights of stairs, we reached a roof deck and a reception room. We were each given a gold token to use to receive a complementary Johnnie Walker whiskey beverage of our choice: Black Label on the rocks, Red Label with Ginger Ale, or Black Label with bitters and an orange twist. I opted for the Ginger Whiskey drink, as I'm only a beginning when it comes to whiskey. We noshed on some Mediterranean themed food and stepped outside to the patio to enjoy our refreshments. We became a bit concerned when we realized that we only received one coin, and we wondered if this was in fact the "tasting" it was advertised to be. After consulting with one of the Johnnie Walker Women, we were told that there would be a sixty minute presentation and tasting in the downstairs area following the reception. They were very vague about what this meant exactly, so we were eager to see what the deal was.

The five of us were some of the first people to be ushered into the downstairs room, so we had front-row seats for this supposed presentation. Upon sitting down, we were delighted to see three shot glasses filled with Black Label, Red Label and Green Label, a bowl of strawberries, ice water, ice cubes, an eye dropper, black pepper, a business card case, and a pin of the Johnnie Walker logo. We were however disappointed that there was nothing in place on the menu for the Gold and Blue Labels. Little did we know what we were in store for.

Once everyone settled in (about 75 people), we were shown a promotional video which I found to be very enticing and well made. Then a well-dressed and confident man came out and introduced himself as one of the Johnnie Walker Whiskey Tastemakers. He told us we would be tasting and talking about whiskey for the next hour, and he was quite a brilliant sense of humor about himself and the event in general. Needless to say, we were excited.

We started off with the tasting with the Black Label variety. After smelling it and discussing the various hints in the nose - grass, vanilla, honey, smoke - we took our first baby sip. Then we added a droplet of water into the shot glass, and tasted it again. Then an ice cube. The colder and more diluted it got, the better it tasted (to me). People like the Black Label because it's dependable and affordable (compared to the others) and easy to find. I liked it, but I was eager to try the rest.

Before tasting the Red Label, we were told to take a bite out of one of the strawberries. Yum. Then we were told to dip it in the black pepper and eat another bite. It sounded gross and weird, but it was actually tasty and complex and it's safe to say I will be eating pepper and strawberries again in this lifetime. We did this to get our pallet ready for the peppery sweet taste that we would experience in the Red Label brand. After taking a nice cool sip of water to restore our taste buds, we took our first sip of the Red Label - which would prove to be my favorite of the evening. The Tastemaker said that Red Label was good for making mix drinks, such as the Ginger Whiskey that was being served upstairs. "Did anyone try that?" he said. "Yes, I liked it very much" I said right next to him, "but I prefer my whiskey with apple juice." He smiled and said "Really? Apple juice? I've never tried that. What kind?" I replied, "Martinelli's. Just buy one of those little bottles, drink half of it, and pour whiskey in the rest." The Tastemaker and the rest of the crowd seemed pleased with my suggestion, and he asked me my name to give me credit to the room. I certainly felt "special" in a room full of suited business men and whiskey connoisseurs.

Before trying the Green Label that was sitting on our menu of Whiskeys, the Johnnie Walker Women came out carrying chilled shots of the Gold Label. The Tastemaker told us this was the celebratory whiskey and when drank cold, it becomes thicker and "more viscous" - he encouraged us to use the word viscous at least once this week because it's fun to say. We toasted and consumed our Gold Label in it's chilled form - quite delicious if you ask me. We then moved on to the Green Label, which is a single-malt whiskey and made up of all the best whiskeys in Scotland - or something. Before tasting it, we poured a drop into our palm and rubbed our hands together (as we were told). We were then urged to sniff our hands, sniff our neighbors hands, get a good nose of that earthy scent that was wafting from our palms. The Green Label wasn't sweet at all, and probably my least favorite. But I can see where an expert would find it interesting and enjoyable.

Last but certainly not least was the high-end Blue Label, which was carried out to us by the Johnnie Walker Women in small Brandy snifters. We sniffed it, diluted it with water and ice, and took down our fifth and final taste of whiskey. It was probably the favorite of most people in the room, my friends included. But as I said before, I'm a Red Label girl.

Not only did I thoroughly enjoy my evening of Johnnie Walker whiskey tasting, but I learned a fare share about how it's made, how to distinguish different varieties, and how to dilute it to make it taste different. It was an enlightening experience, indeed! I recommend attending before they leave SF, or if they come to a city near you!

Fore more information on the Johnnie Walker Tasting experience, visit their website.

Silly Rabbit, Tricks Are For Kids!

Yesterday was April 1st; a day we always seem to forget is going to bite us in the ass until it actually happens. There are two scenarios here:
Scenario A - you wake up and don't realize that it's April Fools Day until something silly stumbles upon your life, and you tell your self "Ah ha! I won't be fooled today, but instead I will come up with a practical joke that all of my gullible friends will fall for! Muah Ha Ha!"
Scenario B - you wake up and don't realize that it's April Fools Day... all day.

I'm always a Scenario A person. I don't tend to plan tricks ahead of time on April Fools Day. They usually come to me mid-morning, like an epiphany, and I let it last through the rest of the afternoon until the guilt sinks in and I start to pity my friends for their unbelievable faith in my honesty. I too am pretty gullible, but this is the one day of the year where I don't let anything slip by me. But be warned, I will trick you, and you will like it.

Two years ago, I changed my relationship status to "engaged" on Facebook and fooled many people into thinking I was going to marry my then boyfriend. Last year I couldn't think of anything to top that (see last year's post, Everybody Plays the Fool), so I took a little holiday from my favorite holiday. But this year I wasn't going to let that happen again. No, sirree.

After perusing the far-fetched farces that people were posting on their Facebook wall, I decided mine would have to be utterly believable; something that people who really knew me could see the truth in. At 10am, it came to me:

"AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Just got a job offer in Melbourn!!!!!!!!! I start May 1st!!!!! Look out Australia, here I come :)"

Within minutes, my friend's mother commented asking what the job was. I replied that I would be working for a company that does marketing and distribution for Australian wines. Brilliant. Anyone who knows me knows that's my dream job, and that I would probably drop anything to do it. After that, the comments started flooding my wall with "CONGRATS!" and "I'LL MISS YOU" and "WHEN DO YOU LEAVE?" There was the occasional, "haha, very funny, April Fools" which I deleted immediately so I could keep up my scam. Friends of my parents were falling for it too! Before I knew it, there were 20 responses, and by the end of the day, there were 40!

People were contacting me in messages and in Gmail, telling me that they would be in Australia this summer and we should meet up, or that they have a cousin who just moved there who could help me get acquainted. In Gchat conversations with close friends, I made up even more lies: I have 24 hours to accept the job, and if I take it then I leave in two weeks. After a few minutes, the date would sink in and people would realize I was pulling their leg and they would kick themselves for falling for yet another one of my April Fools Day gems.

I could tell that this might get out of hand soon. So I sent a text to my boyfriend and said, "don't be alarmed by my Facebook status," but he was too smart for me. He knew immediately that it was a prank, and I was sort of glad. I told him to watch out and not to get fooled, but it was too late. Hours later someone (not me) would post his car for sale for $1200 on Craigslist, complete with a photo and a phone number (his cell) where he could be reached. A half hour after it was posted, calls/texts/voicemails were coming in by the dozens. Every minute someone else was contacting him, some offering cash, some asking if they could pick the car up that night, some even offering more than the listing price! It was insanity - and hilarity. I still don't know who this brilliant prankster was, but I have to hand it to them. Craigslist is an equally, if not better, venue for April Fools Day. But I digress...

Only one person noticed that I spelled Melbourne wrong in my status update - and he never believed me to begin with. You'd think if I can't even spell the name of the city I'm moving to, then I must be fooling you, right? Wrong. People will believe anything you tell them, especially if it's something that brings joy to your life. They want to be happy for you, they want to congratulate you.

Truth be told, if someone offered me my dream job right now with only a month to say goodbye to San Francisco, I would probably turn them down. Because timing is everything. I know someday it will be my time to take the leap and do something BIG, but for now I am happy in my cozy yet exciting city of San Francisco. And if you REALLY knew me, you would know that too.

Film Review: Alice in Wonderland

After three years of anticipating what I expected to be Tim Burton's most magnificent creation of his career, Alice in Wonderland is everything I ever wanted it to be. Though I am not entirely familiar with the original storybook by Lewis Carroll, I imagine he is giggling with madness in his grave. I may be biased as a self-proclaimed Tim Burton maniac, but I could not imagine any other director making this film with such acuteness (I heard Steven Spielberg was approached initially). It's nice to see Burton reunite with Disney on this project after twenty years of desperately trying to break away from their conglomerate. Perhaps it was the only way for him to execute the Disney Digital 3D effects with such finesse.

True to it's original intent, the film is like a strung out trip on a path to to finding ones own identity, no matter how mad - or bonkers - it makes you. It starts with Alice as a young woman, trying to escape an engagement and falling down the rabbit hole once again into this strange Wonderland. She doesn't realize that she was there thirteen years before as a young girl, even when all the characters in her "dream" insist they know her. Burton weaves the audience through the imagery and the characters that we know so well from the cartoon we saw as children, adding of course his own special touch that excites us and keeps us on the edge of our seats. Do not be mistaken; this is in no way anything like Disney's 1951 Alice in Wonderland. It's dark and twisted and frightening and it stretches your imagination until you find yourself as mad as the Hatter himself.

Speaking of the Hatter, Johnny Depp nailed it. He shined as a supporting actor, without stealing the show as one might expect him to in such a colorful role. (Burton tried to achieve this with Depp when he did Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, even changing the title from the original "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" - alas he failed when poor Charlie was outshone by Willy's awkward bowl cut and creepy flashbacks). The audience was free to delight in the acting skills of Anne Hathaway, who played the White Queen with such charisma, gracefully flailing her arms around and floating through her pristine castle like a housewife on Quaaludes. Helena Bonham Carter plays her evil sister, the Red Queen. She masterfully brings a sense of naive vanity to the character, whilst managing to terrify all her subjects. And let's not forget about Mia Wasikowska in her breakthrough role as the one and only Alice. Everything about her - even down to the way her hair falls - echoes the perplexing journey that is Alice in Wonderland. All the little side characters including the caterpillar (voiced by Alan Rickman), the hare, the mouse, the Tweedles and the dog keep the audience in check and allow us to escape the fact that we're watching a blockbuster film. Like all of Burton's films, the characters are what move the plot.

It never hit me when I saw the cartoon as a child just how much this film echoes the storyline of The Wizard of Oz. A girl falls through a time warp and lands in a mysterious place with odd characters and dream-like occurrences, to be told by everyone she meets that she was brought there to bring down the evil sister and return the land to it's once peaceful balance. She falls in love with these characters and finds it hard to leave. The difference is, Dorothy goes home because she misses her family; Alice goes home because she has decisions to inform people of, life-altering decisions that seemed too vast to handle before her trip down the rabbit hole. But after a trip such as Wonderland, Alice can handle anything.

Back on the Beef Train

If you're a dedicated reader, you know that I spent the month of February omitting red meat from my diet. Though at first I thought this would be a hard task, I found it to be quite easy and very rewarding.

I found myself buying more grains and vegetables when I went to the farmers market or grocery store. I even cooked quinoa for the first time (though, I've eating it many times). I only ate tofu a couple of times, opting for chicken or turkey instead. I also found beans to be an essential source of protein for my diet, as well as eggs. I added kale and Swiss chard to vegetable stir-fry dishes, and tried lots of different kinds of salads.

Though I tried to avoid it most times, I ate pork 3 or 4 times throughout the month. I was really good about it in the beginning; I even declined bacon multiple times. But about half way through the month my friend made a delicious pozole dish with pork, and I just couldn't say no - though I did cut down on the amount of pork I put into the bowl. A couple weeks later he made a Moroccan dish with couscous, chickpeas, veggies and tri-tip. I simply ate everything but the tri-tip and it was filling and so tasty (also because my friend is a fantastic chef). My mother visited and we went out to some very nice dinners at Slanted Door and Absinthe. We just HAD to order the pork crispy imperial rolls at Slanted Door, and there was some bacon in the frisee salad that we had at Absinthe. In the end, I didn't feel as bad for eating the pork and I was more impressed with myself that I turned down steak when everyone around me was enjoying it.

I broke my red meat fast a little early (as did my parents, who were part of the friendly challenge). My friend from wine class invited me over to dinner on Saturday because he was planning to open a 1996 Barolo that he had been holding for a while. Paired with the Barolo was slow-roasted beef ribs, goat cheese polenta, Brussels sprouts with bacon, broccoli and a salad with feta, strawberries and pine nuts - certainly a feast, and definitely the appropriate way to break my fast.

Truth be told, my diet really didn't change all that much. I realized the only times I eat red meat is when I go out to eat or someone cooks it for me (or the occasional roast beef sandwich). So it would be pretty easy for me to continue eating in this fashion. Some of my vegetarian friends jokingly criticized me for eating poultry and fish, and encouraged me to go veggie all together. But that's one thing I don't think I'll ever be able to do, not even for a month.

So all in all, a pretty successful dietary experiment. Now, if only I could stop drinking alcohol for a month.

Yummies: Volume 6

This year's Valentines Day may have been my best yet. My boyfriend was skiing in Tahoe all weekend, coming back to San Francisco Sunday evening. This was great, because it relieved all the pressure of spending some ooey gooey Valentines Day afternoon together, and I had the whole day to myself to do whatever I pleased. While some of my friends like to spend their Sunday Fundays going to bottomless mimosa brunches - which I too enjoy, but only on occasion - my ideal Sunday Funday is spent in my neighborhood and home, pretending to be a suburban housewife. Forgetting all together that many people were celebrating some silly Hallmark holiday, and instead taking in the beautiful weather on this Sunday afternoon, I mapped out my version of Sunday Funday: yoga clothes all day (minus the yoga thanks to my recent knee injury), coffee and sunshine on my deck, farmers market and some gourmet grocery store shopping, a walk to the park, cleaning the house, some Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations episodes here and there, doing laundry, getting a pedicure, a long shower, and preparing for an elegant meal with my boyfriend. Mind you, the preparation was very minor. This whole meal is easy to make and it takes very little time to execute. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did!


Seared Halibut with Green Beans, Tomatoes, White Wine Sauce and Orzo
(from Epicurious, but I've made some very slight adjustments - serves 2)

• 1/2 pound green beans
• Two 7-ounce halibut fillets, skinned and cut into chunks
  
• Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
• 1 tablespoons canola oil
• 1/3 cup Sauvignon Blanc or other dry white wine
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  
• less than 1/4 cup unsalted butter
• bunch of scallions, white part only, finely sliced
  
• 1 tablespoon capers, drained and rinsed
• 15-20 cherry tomatoes, quartered
• 1 1/2 cups of orzo pasta, preferably wheat
  

Preparation (try to do all simultaneously so everything finishes at the same time):

• Chop tomatoes and scallions, and place in small bowl with capers. Season with salt and pepper, and set aside.
• Boil water for orzo. Add a teaspoon of salt. When water is boiling, add orzo and 1/2 a tablespoon of olive oil and cook for 8-10 minutes.
  
• Meanwhile, in a another pot of boiling salted water, cook the green beans for 3 to 4 minutes on high heat, until tender. Once done, drain and place them back in the pot. Cover and keep warm on simmer.
• Season the halibut chunks on both sides with salt and pepper. In a large saute pan, heat the canola oil over medium-high heat. Cook the fish for about 3 minutes, until lightly browned. Turn, reduce the heat to medium, and cook about 4 minutes longer, until the fish is opaque in the center and browned on both sides.
  
• Once everything is ready, place the orzo on warm platter. Top with green beans and then fish. Cover with aluminum foil, and set aside.
  

For the sauce:

• Add the wine and lemon juice to the pan you were cooking the fish in.
• Raise the heat to high and deglaze the pan by scraping up any browned bits of fish with a wooden spoon.
• Cook for about 2 minutes, then reduce the heat and stir in the butter, a piece at a time, to enrich and flavor the sauce.
• Add the scallions, capers, and tomato. Stir for about 2 minutes.
  
• Pour over the fish on the platter. Serve immediately.

Note: buy a decent bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to use for the recipe (I recommend Husch) and serve the remainder with the meal.


Apple Crisp
(From the Vegetarian Epicure)

• 3 large tart green apples
• 1/4 cup water1/2 cup sugar
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1/2 cup butter

Preparation:

• Peel the apples and slice them thinly.
• Layer them evenly in a glass pie dish sprinkle them with the water.
• Put them aside while you prepare the crust.
• Sift together the dry ingredients and cut in the butter until all is well combined. Sprinkle this mixture thickly and evenly over the apples. Don’t mix the two together.
• Cover the casserole and bake at 350 degrees for ½ hour, then uncover and bake another ½ hour. The crust will be crisp on top, and will have partly seeped down through the apples, flavoring them and binding them slightly together.
• Serve with Vanilla Ice Cream.

Note: you can make this a couple hours ahead of time and refrigerate it until an hour before you're ready to eat dessert, then bake as directed.