Meandering Psuedo-Review: Manresa

Last night, E and I had a very enjoyable evening with C&V at Manresa. It had been on our to visit list for quite some time after H&O had such a great meal for their anniversary last year.

Plus, the first Bay Area Michelin Guide gave it two stars. And, well, I've never been to a two star Michelin restaurant before. (Actually, I just grabbed the guide, and realized that's not a true statement. I hadn't realized that Aqua had received two stars. I've been there once, in 1999, long prior to the Michelin man's endorsement. I was annoyed by the pretension of the staff and crowd to the point where it overshadowed my memory of the food. Of course, that was during the first bubble. I have no idea how I'd find it now.)

So, when C sent an email announcing that they had a baby sitter and were looking for people join them at Manresa, we jumped. I'm glad we did.

By far, our favorite part of the night was the 4 hours of conversation with C&V. We haven't hung out with them, just us, in at least 5 years. Doing so surrounded by good food accompanied by good wine made the experience even better.

So, the night gets 4 stars. And, perhaps, that is why people select restaurants like this. Because even when the restaurant is slightly disappointing, it is still very, very good.

While much about the experience was very impressive, and, no doubt, the reason for the restaurant's repute, the honest critique must say that the restaurant itself was hit and miss.

In my opinion, the amuse bouches were the best part of the dinner, culinarily speaking.

We started our journey with tiny black olive madeleines and roasted bell pepper gelées coated in sugar crystals. Very interesting.

Then, we were presented deep fried finger-bites filled with a liquid center of cream and foie gras. The warning to pop the entire thing in your mouth was *much* appreciated as the liquid would have dripped down your hand and chin if you tried to bite it in two. Delicious. Oddly, not as heavy as the description would make you think.

The entire table agreed, that the last amuse bouch, the Golden Egg was every bit as good as the hype would indicate. The soft boiled egg sprinkled with sea salt on chilled sherry cream, topped with baby chives and a drizzling of maple syrup was one of the more subtly complex melody of flavors I'd ever experienced. I must admit, when C emailed that we would have to call ahead for more than one egg per person, I was a) impressed that she was doing her research; b) chagrined that I had no idea what she was talking about; c) too busy to follow up; and d) comfortable in the general certainty that I probably wouldn't go hungry with just one of anything. After dinner, when V said the egg was a tribute to another chef, I was impressed with his research too. None other than Alain Passard, huh? I think that was his signature on a menu in the women's restroom, but I can't be sure.

Another thing Manresa did well was modify the tasting menu to the tastes of C, who is a bit of a picky eater. To C's credit, I've eaten multiple meals with her and was completely unaware of her food needs, which in my opinion, is the mark of a courteous dining companion. Further to her credit, she took the opportunity to be a bit adventurous with food and try things she'd never had before, like sashimi. Given that I enjoy watching people eat something for the first time, this discovery about C was like a special bonus prize for me.

The misses were bummers, however. The first miss was the appearance of the restaurant near our table. As C pointed out upon seating, the curtain rod above our table was an exposed, non-ornamental brass rod, and not completely screwed into the wall. Plus, we were seated with our table pressed up against a glass door. I know restaurants need exits, but, given that no one was going to be using this one while we were seated here, I would have preferred that the curtains actually covered it, both to keep out the draft and to make the sight to my immediate right a little more pleasing than the metal push bar.

The second miss was the timing of the drink service. While C and I enjoyed our cava with the amuse bouches, the gentlemen were left with water. This seemed odd to me for two reasons: 1) C&V had ordered the wine pairing and the amuse bouches portion of the meal took at least 45 minutes. 2) E and I had ordered a bottle of wine to share throughout the meal but were not asked when we would like to enjoy it. At the laundry we enjoyed one amuse bouche with our water while we selected our wines. From then on, our glasses were silently filled with our selections or we were asked whether we would like something with each presentation. Local favorite Chez TJ has been blessed by the tire company with only one star, but it also provides constant communication and service on the drink service. In fact, in my recent memory, I cannot recall a single meal where the servers ignored the fact that the patrons had ordered drinks but that they had not been served. Granted, this is probably because most restaurants make up the majority of their profits from alcohol sales, but whatever the reason, it was a very noticeable omission of service.

The third miss would explain why the gentlemen did not order cocktails. E, because we ordered a bottle of wine to enjoy plus the timing, but C didn't order a cocktail because Manresa only serves beer, wine, sherry, and port. I have no idea how important this is because E and I rarely drink hard alcohol. However, on many occasions I've sat across from dining companions enjoying a scotch or martini before the main courses. Perhaps this would be a serious deterrent to them with regards to Manresa?

The fourth miss, is just a general theme. I felt that there was not enough communication between the wait staff and our table. The tasting menu was not on the printed menu, which is completely understandable. However, the server did not provide enough detail when discussing the meal with us, merely saying the type of the protein in each course, often skipping the preparation style and entirely skipping the accoutrements. For the wine pairings, she only vaguely knew the style of the wines. Her presentation of the tasting menu was boring, and not very informative. I know, it's a French restaurant, I'm supposed to want to experience the genius of the star chef and not need to be sold on it like the American that I am. But, truly, after her presentation, I was leaning towards the 4 course menu over the tasting menu if only because I'd know what I was about to experience.

While the amuse bouches were consistently amazing, the actual courses, were hit and miss. The foie gras presentation was just too much. I literally had a piece of seared foie gras that was 1/2 an inch tall and at least 3 inches square in area. Although it was presented with pears, and a few other side items to cut the overwhelming fat, it was not enjoyable and 3 of us requested our plates to be cleared with half of the foie gras remaining.

The next course, if I remember the ordering correctly, was Oyster with Sea Urchin in its own jelly with a bit of nori. I was very impressed with this dish. Sea urchin is not something I love, what with the warm cat tongue texture thing, and all. But oysters are. So, it could have gone either way. The sea urchin jelly was delicious and a texturally perfect complement to the oyster. The nori was crunchy as a slight distraction. This preparation minimized the sea urchin texture while maximizing the flavor. Impressive and delicious. At dessert, C realized that her modification was actually a serving of the citrus dessert course. If she loved it, this would be fine. But I got the impression that she would have preferred the same number of distinct courses as the rest of us received. On the other hand, she wouldn't have eaten oyster and sea urchin, so perhaps it was better to have a repeat. I tend to think that while ordinarily, picky eaters should be willing to graciously compromise, when at a restaurant where the chef claims to be willing to modify the menu to suit any need or desire, either the chef or the server should have paid enough attention to ensure that the modifications didn't result in a course repeat in the tasting menu.

The next course, amberjack sashimi, was fabulous. It was sliced so thin that it was almost see-through and it was presented in a flower arrangement of thin petals in a circular indentation in the middle of a large white plate holding a shiru dashi with roasted sesame seeds, minced baby chives, and minced nori. C's vegetarian option was fresh parmegiano in a bright green vegetable puree that was poured over the cheese at the table for a gorgeous presentation that we all enjoyed. The combination of these two courses at the table at the same time was one of the high points of the evening. Also, the wine pairing allowed for an option of sake or wine (V went with sake that was dry excellent) and the white wine paired with C's modification was my favorite white of the evening (a crisp sauvingnon blanc blend).

The abalone was interesting with its bagna cauda crust, but it was too tough to cut. The white fish, on the other hand, was a simple delicious presentation that was amazingly tender and perfectly cooked. The local spot prawn on half its exoskeleton (I'm sure that's not how you say it in foodie terms, but you get my drift) with exotic Indian herbs (that looked like caviar) on a bed of sauteed spinach was a gorgeous presentation but just above average in terms of flavor and, again, very difficult to cut.

The chicken, an ingredient I find almost universally uninspiring, was phenomenal. Poularde may just be better than what I think of as chicken in the United States. Because I do find that chicken outside the US is less lame, on average. Whatever the explanation, this dish was amazing. The breast was stuffed to a perfectly round cylinder and sliced to a circle presentation of tender, juicy, delicious chicken filled with a delicious chestnut stuffing. I was amazed that chicken could be so flavorful and thankful for the chef's reminder that my dislike for chicken is, at times, unjust.

The lamb was similarly excellent to the chicken, both in terms of presentation and in terms of flavor. C's alternative of suckling pig topped with a small frozen chocolate sheet was very rich, and perfect for the one bite that I sampled, although I'm not certain I'd want an entire dish of it.

Dessert came in three stages and like the amuse bouches, was consistently excellent. First, we were presented a martini glass full of citrus based gratinée over citrus fruit and whipped cream. Clean. Bright. An excellent palate cleanser. Then, we were given a shot glass full of thick dark warm chocolate happiness surrounding a few cherries topped with foam of some sort and chocolate paper. Damn. Gorgeous presentation and delicious.

In an excellent circularity, the final presentation was a silver tray that looked exactly like the first amuse bouche. This one was chocolate madeleines and raspberry (I think) gelées. I thought this visual repetition for the opening and closing was very clever and symbolic.

As a final note, the wine pairings were generally superb. They modified them for C's modified menu where appropriate and we were able to sample two sets of wine pairings, which we unabashedly passed around the table. C's favorite was a 2000 arneis. I'd never heard of this grape before, which apparently was almost extinct and is now making a comeback in Piedmont, so I'm excited to learn of a new wine that fits my wine tastes (somewhere between a floral sauvignon blanc and a cleaner, dry viognier). It looks like my local winestore even carries a few. E and I ordered a bottle of the Tablas Creek Esprit de Beaucastel pinot noir rhone blend (see the comments where Jason Haas from Tablas Creek politely corrected me. How cool is that?) which was excellent. I love going to a restaurant and ordering a bottle in the hopes that it will be good only to have it exceed my expectations. I savored this wine with each sip and enjoyed the table's (and particularly C's enjoyment of it) as well. Just another great thing about the evening.

The only exception to the otherwise excellent pairings, the burgundy they selected for pairing with V's lamb was a bit on the sedimenty, syrupy side. It reminded me of France, so I smiled. But C pointed out that just because it reminds me of memories doesn't make the wine taste good. She was right. They could have done better. In fact, since we tasted the lamb with it, in my opinion they would have been better off going with Tablas Creek.

The final thing I sincerely enjoyed about Manresa was their obvious commitment to allowing patrons to fully savor the eating experience. We didn't order until 9 PM and we did not leave the restaurant until midnight.

All in all, a wonderful night.

Deep Fried Dinner

After much research, it would appear there are exactly three well-known uses for cheese curds: cheese, deep fried cheese curds, and poutine.

While some day I may try to make cheese, this week did not contain that day. And, well, I've never been to Canada despite multiple trips that have failed to materialize for one reason or another, so I figure I should save poutine for the real thing, which WILL happen one day.

According to the Internets, the best deep fried cheese curds are at the Minnesota State Fair, although there was an impressive collection of posts in favor of the Wisconsin State Fair's offerings as well. I read all the recipes I could find and determined that I like the addition of corn meal to batter and that I would go with a beer-based batter instead of a milk or buttermilk-based batter.

In keeping with our Deep Fried History, E, G, and I settled into the kitchen for the dinner of fried.

Oddly, I found the act of deep frying viscerally satisfying. Must be the danger. So, if you are looking for a greasy but delicious and fun dinner, see below.

Fair warning: even if you serve these with a hefty salad, they are addictive and heavy and may have a side effect of making you think you can consume more wine than you should.

Deep Fried Cheese Curds

2 lbs cheese curds
1 cup flour
1/4 cup corn meal
1-2 tsp baking powder
1 egg
1/2 can of beer

1. Mix all the ingredients except the cheese curds together until the batter is a thick liquid consistency.

2. Dip each cheese curd in the batter, place on a cookie sheet. When the cookie sheet is full, freeze. (Note, silpat was a lifesaver here because the cookie sheets were too unwieldy to get into the freezer but the sheets are maneuverable and bend. Plus the frozen cheese curds just popped off with no mess before frying. Give the freezing at least 30 minutes, an hour is probably better.)

3. Heat a wok or other large open pot full of vegetable oil (I used saffola) to 375F. (Thanks to my aunt for the candy thermometer!)

4. Drop about 5-8 curds in at a time and let sizzle 'til golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and place on a paper towel covered plate.

5. Return the oil to 375F and repeat frying until done.

6. Feel free to experiment with the left over batter, I coated an anaheim pepper and dropped it in the oil without freezing and it came out wonderfully as well.

Choco-riffic recipe #5

I decided to get back on the chocolate train.

It's been over 2 months since I completed one of the 6 promised recipes. So, last night when E2 came over and brought The Devil Wears Prada, it seemed like a perfect opportunity.

These cookies are good. But they are also crumbly and they make a huge mess in the kitchen. Honestly, I can't imagine making them again. These cookies, with all of their chocolate, are in the same category as brownies, which are easier to make and store and if made properly taste better. So, I'd rather have brownies. Is that so wrong?

Double Chocolate Cookies
(modified from "The Best of Fine Cooking: Chocolate 2006")

-5 oz. unsweetened chocolate, chopped.

-1/2 bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped (I used bittersweet chips, which I know you aren't supposed to do because the stuff they put in 'em to make 'em keep their shape makes 'em sub-par for melting, but I did it anyways!)

-1/4 cup unsalted butter,cut into 4 pieces (Turns out the original recipe called for 1/2 cup, but I used less. They were extra sticky on the cookie sheet. My unintentional fat reduction could be part of the cause of the messiness...)

-4 large eggs

-1 1/2 C sugar

-1/4 t. vanilla extract

-2.5 oz (heaping 1/2 cup or so) all-purpose flour

-1/2 t. baking powder

-5 oz. pecans, broken into pieces

1. Melt the unsweetened chocolate, the butter, and 4 oz. of the bittersweet chocolate in a saucepan. Remove from heat to cool.

2. Whip the eggs and sugar with a whisk attachment 'til thick & light (about 10 minutes on medium w/kitchenaid.)

3. On low speed, add the melted chocolate and vanilla and mix 'til well-blended.

4. Fold in flour, baking powder, remaining bittersweet chocolate and walnuts.

5. Freeze for approximately an hour. Preheat oven for 350F.

6. Using teaspoons, drop cookies 3 inches apart. If you use tablespoons, give 'em 4 inches.

7. Bake until cracked on top (approx 15 minutes).

8. Let cookies cool on the sheet for 1 minute before transferring to a rack to cool.

Eating Her Curds? Is There a Way?

At the farmer's market, the the cheese lady sold me some aged gouda, which I knew I wanted when I approached.

She was also selling curds.

During 3L, I tasted curds near Portland at the the Tillamook cheese factory. I loved them. They reminded me of Paneer, one of my favorite Indian foods. So, today, when I saw she was selling them, I bought them, confident I could find a way to use them. I often buy ingredients I don't know much about and enjoy the process of researching and learning how to use them.

But Curds? Well, I'm stumped. I've consulted all of my stand-by cooking resources.

The New Food Lover's Companion (a gift from E2), confirmed that curds are the semi-solid portion of the milk when it curdles, from which cheese is made. I think I more-or-less suspected that, but I hadn't really thought it all the way through.

Curds, it would seem, are a pre-ingredient. And thus, I may be learning to make the ingredient (cheese) as a result of this purchase.

To see if there were any easier preparations, I read the entire Cheese cookbook in my women's day encyclopedia (how much do I love a day off at home???). Thirteen pages and pictures of cheese. I know much more about cheese than I did this morning. I have several more recipes to make. I agree with the encyclopedia article writer who wrote, "[Cheese] is a nearly perfect food with a great many of the essential food elements the body needs, such as proteins, fats, and vitamins, with the excellent taste and enormous variety to make it appealing to all." However, the mention of curds was less than helpful, "Generally it is the curd which is pressed, treated, and ripened into a great variety of cheeses."

The internet has also been less than helpful. The only useful option I have found is to go the Wisconsonian route and make deep fried cheese curds. I'm tempted. But it doesn't really fit into this week's menu. I was kind of hoping for a slightly more healthy option...

Also, I'm wondering how long they keep in the fridge. So, I'm back to my typical quandry... worried that food in the fridge will go bad.

So, does anyone have any knowledge or suggestions for curd recipes? Or am I really going to be forced to decide between a foray into the world of cheese-making or a dinner of fried? Don't get me wrong, both sound like lovely options. But my 3-day weekend is almost over and dinner of fried during the week is a bit much, don't you think? Perhaps I'll just have E invite all the boys...

Thankful Sunday Thoughts and Observations

This weekend, we're at home and I don't have to do any law work.

Yesterday, I did our taxes. Then I did Dad's estate's taxes. Then I did brother's taxes. Each finished task improved my already wonderful mood (it was sunny, too!).

To top off the day, E and I went out to a dinner at the restaurant that catered our wedding and then we enjoyed one of the best live music performances I've ever experienced (an awesome christmas gift from E's parents).

I went to bed early. I slept in.

Today's run, after more than 9 hours of sleep, was a *very slow* 6 miles. It was my first *long run* since the marathon. I am definitely still recovering, physiologically. My legs wanna move slow and my lungs agree. It would seem that in addition to the muscular damage, my cardiovascular system took a fairly serious hit from the 11 day hiatus from the running shoes while my muscles recovered. My average pace for today's 6-miler was about a minute and a half slower than the marathon. It felt good to run slowly and watch the world go by.

After the run, I gleefully headed to the local farmer's market. How the time flies! My last trip had been during autumn harvest. This time, before spring has sprung, the fresh offerings were much more limited. I picked up a few fresh items for this week's menu, but spent most of my time exploring the fish and prepared items.

From the Russian food tent, I grabbed a take-home lunch for E and me of spinach (and maybe cheese, but we sure didn't taste it) piroshki. Mmm...

Plus, I found the cheese lady. In truth, it was she who gave me the strength to walk away from the Molinari tent.

Like most Americans, I often feel compelled to buy more food than I could possibly consume or prepare. The fish tent? Fresh mustard greens? Bok choy? Onions? Garlic? Indian food? Russian food? The Cheese Lady? The Baker's tent? The Molinari tent? The French Sausage tent? The Chinese Food tent? How could anyone fail to be tempted?

In defiance of this, I rarely buy too much food. I do my best to force myself to clean out the fridge. Staples can sit in the cupboard, but food that goes bad--I have a very strong aversion to buying too much of it. When I see a fridge full of food that could spoil, I feel pressure to use it. I feel guilt about waste. I also know that it isn't healthy to feed us more than we need. Who needs stress from the fridge? Not me. Not this weekend.

See, I'm feeling very thankful for this weekend at home with no work. I haven't received a single work-related email since 6 PM on Friday.

I relaxed by spending a date night with E, crossing items of the administrative to-do list, working out, planning a menu, buying ingredients (not necessarily in that order, see the curd post...), and just taking time to enjoy the basic life stuff like buttercups in our front yard and happy hour with some old work colleagues on Friday. At the farmer's market, today, because I knew I couldn't buy all the food that looked delicious, I took the time to window shop, as it were. It's been a while since I've had a Sunday where I can be as decadently lazy and able to enjoy each moment as I have been today.

And, thanks to President's day, I still have tomorrow to relax some more.

[Big contented sigh of happiness]

Risotti

Lucky_girl asked if I would post the eggplant tomato risotto recipe from Valentine's day.

But, I won't. Why? Well...You know what they say about giving a man a fish...Instead, let me teach you to make risotti.

Biba says, Risotto, a rice dish, is one of the most splendid of all Italian Preparations...The possibilities for the flavor base of risotto are endless. Savory meats, cheeses, vegetables, herbs, sausage, ragus, shellfish, or game are added at different stages of the cooking process, giving risotto an ever-changing identity. It is one of the most versatile dishes in Italian gastronomy.

To tell the truth, I never read that passage before tonight. In fact, I am surprised and pleased to find that Italy Al Dente contains 34 Risotto recipes.

I learned to truly love risotto while I was studying Italian in Italy. Ahhh.... one of the best decisions of my life... laid off from the dot com bubble burst, I packed up my things and headed to Italy. I came home with wine to age, cooking skills, and an appreciation for relaxation that I never could have imagined. But, I digress...

The school cook made risotto once a week or so. But the local restaurants/bars had it available upon request. I ordered it regularly. Never once, in the more than 2 months I was in Italy, was a dish of risotto the same as a previous one. I came to realize that it was more of a style of cooking than a dish. It was a style I loved. And, it was a style that appealed to my sense of efficiency and economy because it was open to including just about any left-overs that were available.

Biba says, Two ingredients always part of a risotto are rice and broth. She goes on to discuss the need for the appropriate rice. Italo-philes (and Biba) will claim you need Arborio, Vialone Nano, or Carnaroli. But I'm not lying when I tell you that I've made many a risotto with California's poster-child Calrose rice and so long as you are adding some sort of binding agent (anything with its own sugar, starch, or fat) no one will complain.

Purists will also claim that you must constantly stir the risotto as it simmers and that you must add the broth pre-heated, a small portion at a time. Ridiculous purists will additionally claim you need to make your own broth.

Let's be frank. Who has time for that shit?

NOT ME. At least not on a regular basis. And, after probably at least 100 risotti prepared and served, I can say with authority: it's true that when you do it the old-fashioned way, it's better. When you use the recommended rice, it does tend to be slightly more interesting, texturally speaking. When you use pre-warmed broth (because even when I make turkey broth from the thanksgiving carcass, I still chill it and have to re-heat it for later use. I'm not making broth and risotto on the same day!) and/or when you continuously stir, more starch is released from the rice, resulting in a creamier texture.

But, 90% of the goods are in the basics. And the basics are this:

1. Chop 1/2 to 1 white/yellow onion. In a pinch, you can use a red onion.
2. Drizzle cooking oil 2 or 3 times around the outside of a large casserole (or sautee pan, or stock pot, or whatever). Heat oil on medium and add onions, stirring quickly.
3. Optional (but I don't think I've ever opted out): finely mince 3-4 cloves garlic. Toss into the oil/onions and stir vigorously for a minute or so 'til the onions are clear.
4. Add rice and stir. Keep adding rice and stiring 'til there's no longer a visible layer of oil on the bottom of the pan.
5. Add the first dousing of liquid. Many recipes use an alcohol here to add sugar (white wine, vodka, vermuth, feel free to skip this step, I often do, especially when I'm going to use stewed tomatoes).
6. The broth phase: Vegetarian broth; Chicken broth; Beef broth; Fish broth; Boullion cubes and water; Whatever strikes your fancy, really. If you're hard core, add just a little that's boiling when you add it. If you're me, dump in a can of broth, stir, leave to simmer and come back to stir every few minutes. When the liquid has been absorbed and/or boiled off, take a forkful and test the rice. Keep adding more liquid and re-testing the rice 'til the rice is al dente (still responds to the teeth as something to bite through, but relatively soft).
7. Once the rice is al dente and the liquid is all absorbed, you're done. Toss in your binding agent if you're using one (cream, butter, cheese, etc.), stir 'til it's evenly mixed throughout, and allow to cool for 10 minutes before serving.

Variations: substitute canned stewed tomatoes for some of the broth -- they contribute additional starch, act as a binding agent and the flavor is excellent. Add vegetables towards the end of the cycle (Carrots, frozen eggplant, 15 minutes before done. Brocolli, chopped fresh tomatoes, 7-8 minutes before done. Mushrooms, early, like immediately after the rice is browned. Meat, if pre-cooked, add at the same time as the binding agent. If raw, follow a recipe.)

Many happy returns.

2 Valentine's Day Hints

1. It is best not to proclaim, "I'm so happy the deal that was the bane of my existence closed yesterday." I've got quite a few new options competing for the title.

2. If you find yourself with too much fresh eggplant, you can chop it into 1/2 inch cubes and freeze it in ziplocks. These, you can add to risotto about 15 minutes before the risotto is ready. (Valentine's day eggplant tomato risotto was a hit!)

The Choice I Have Made

For the last 9 days or so, I've been on two big deals that were supposed to close *today* but things kept going wrong. I was also assigned to the typical assortment of small deals and projects.

Deadlines keep getting missed on the big projects. New deadlines were set. Everyone feels pressure to get things done. And knowing that everyone else feels pressure makes me feel like I *have* to do my part even faster and better than I ordinarily would. Then there's the small deal and projects which keep getting put on hold for the bigger ones. Oh, and the whole first-year lawyer don't really know what I'm doing thing. Basically, I've been disappointing people left and right.

Everything I'm doing feels like it isn't getting done as well as I'd like it to be done. I'm not getting enough sleep. I worked through the weekend. In response to an emergency email, I had to ask to use lucky_girl's office while at her house for a girls' brunch.

Monday night, I had dinner plans with lucky_girl. Both of my deals were supposed to be closed by the evening. One did close. There was much rejoicing. But at 2 PM, I got the dreaded email asking if I would be available after 6 PM to turn the documents one more time.

I sent lucky_girl an email and explained the situation. She came down for dinner anyways. We had a fabulous time. But, I had to check my PDA *every* time it buzzed. Which, was approximately every 15 minutes from 8 PM 'til 11 PM.

I like to be completely present when I interact with my friends and family. If there isn't an emergency at work, I am trying to ignore my buzzing PDA. But when there is a true emergency, I really have no choice.

This is the choice I have made. I love the practice that I have chosen. Most days I want to pinch myself to make sure that I really get paid to do what I do. But the last 9 or so, I haven't needed to pinch myself.

Socially, I've had to be only partially present, both with friends and family. My anxiety levels have been higher than I like them to be, my diet has suffered, my sleep has been poor and I haven't gotten as much as I need, and if I wasn't recovering from a marathon, I'd probably be pissed about how little exercise I've been getting as well.

The madness is temporarily over. But it took a serious toll on me, physically, and emotionally. I woke this morning, refreshed from a full night's sleep for the first time in over 10 days. Learning how to balance my way through periods like this is going to be one of the more difficult things about being a lawyer.

Yoga, Yoga, Yoga

Long before I finished the marathon, I promised myself a month of heavy-yoga and light-running to recuperate. I'm a week out and I haven't logged a mile. My legs feel recovered, more or less, but I'm enjoying the down time. Everything I read agreed: unless you are an elite runner used to running over 100 miles per week (yeah right!), then, you can't run for 3 days after a marathon, no matter how much you want to. Turns out, I didn't really want to, so that wasn't much of a problem. Also, after 3 days, the recovery theories are all over the place. Some say you could do a 10K in a month, others, a marathon in a month, others say no hard miles for 26 days (no speed training, no hills, and definitely no racing). I figured I'd err on the side of caution and substitute in some additional yoga, since my strength and stretching took a bit of a hit during the marathon training.

On Friday, for the first time since the marathon, I felt like I wanted to workout. Not much, mind you. But a little. So, I did 20 minutes of the easier flows from Shiva Rea's Yoga Shakti and I was done. I left for work relaxed and calm.

Saturday, I did the basic flow from the same DVD and I finished in an almost overpowering meditative state. Physically, the workout was not that demanding, but mentally, I had not experienced that level of release from stress in at least several months. I was amazed that such a powerful calm could arise from breathing through such a simple and non-physically demanding series of movements, if done in the right frame of mind. Too bad I rarely attain that frame of mind.

Because I typically need a physically demanding workout to get me to the point where meditation does me any good, I figured I should spend some more time investigating Ashtanga Yoga. I bought David Swenson's The Primary Series DVD. I have his book and have tried to do the primary series from it several times, but it is too annoying to look down to the book every other minute for guidance.

Once, I took an Ashtanga Primary Series class in a studio, and while I found the large room of rhythmic movement and breathing to be a great workout, and quite difficult, I did not find that I liked the class environment. So, I figured a DVD of the primary series from the acknowledged expert in the US on this type of practice would be the way to go.

This explains how, this morning, E2 and I worked our way through as much of the primary series DVD as we could handle. HOLY CRAP. David Swenson's take on the primary series looks very different that what I saw when I took the class. All sorts of vinyasas ending in handstands(!). All sorts of other crap there's not room to do in my living room including rolling around like a bug. All sorts of stuff that makes our travel sticky mats completely inadequate for practice. And, let's not forget that he's something of an alien and hyper flexible in weird ways, and he did the whole DVD in a purple tank top and tight white spandex shorts, which inspired E2 to bust out with, "But, I don't want to see your PeePee!" every time we'd get just a little too much in view.

Apparently, the introduction to this DVD describes the modifications you can make while following along, but E2 and I fast-forwarded through that last night, so we had no idea. All of a sudden, running more and doing less yoga this month sounds more appealing.

I guess I'm more like those people who immediately start planning their next marathon and want to get back in their shoes too soon than I thought.

But no, I'll stay on my original plan. I will put in some quality time with this DVD. If nothing else, I'd like to get to the point where I know a modified version of the primary series by heart so I can lead myself through it without the DVD. Also, I'm already starting to get sore, so I know it was as great of a workout as it felt like it was.

Winter Wonder Food: Potatoes

I think I've neglected the potato in the past. But this winter, I've found it to be everything I need in a food: Nutrious. Delicious. Long shelf life. And well-suited to baking in one-dish baked extravaganzas when I clean out the fridge/pantry and do other things while dinner is being prepared by modern appliances.

Tonight's offering from the kitchen of use whatever the hell is lying around:

Broiled Potatoes & Vegetables From the Mexican Joint

-5 sprigs fresh thyme, leaves peeled off
-10 leaves fresh oregano, torn in half or so
-2 russet potatoes, washed and chopped into 1/4 inch X 1/2 inch or so chunks
-extra virgin olive oil, for baking (read: the good stuff, but nothing great, you won't notice the subtle greatness after close to an hour in the oven at 400F)
-1 cup leftover vegetables from tequila sauteed fajitas last night (read: strips of bell peppers, yellow onions, broccoli, etc.)
-garlic salt
-black pepper
-grated parmigiano

Preheat oven to 400F. Mix all ingredients in an 8X12 or larger baking dish (pyrex works for me). Drizzle with enough olive oil that the entire mixture is glistening, but not drowning after mixture. Sprinkle with a light dusting of parmigiano. Cook for approximately 45 minutes (one hour if you are me and you put it in while the oven is heating).

Enjoy!

(Note: this dish is excellent for those suffering from teeth issues--mmmm, soft, delicious, chewing optional, potatoes...)

A marathon starts at mile 0

Tonight, my mom, sweet mom, asked me, "How long was the marathon you ran?" "Ummm... 26.2 miles." "Wow. That's a long marathon." "Ummm... Mom. All marathons are 26.2 miles." "Oh. Really? Well, now I know. You learn something new every day. I'm so proud of you."

Anyways, I'm alive. My mom is proud. E is proud. Many of my friends have let me know that they are proud. I beat an 86 year old man by at least 2 minutes, so I'm proud [grin]. Also, I didn't expect the marathon itself to be so fun. I must say, I have become a complete and total convert. Assuming I recover, there will be another one on the schedule for the winter.

I worship the ground that Hal Higdon walks/jogs/runs on and recommend that everyone who wants to experience a *pleasant* marathon read Marathon--The Ultimate Training Guide. I read it last year in prep for the marathon that wasn't and I read it again this year. I attribute my lack of injuries, my ability to complete the entire race relatively pain free at slightly better than my targeted pace, and my physical stamina (read: I did NOT hit the wall) during the race to following the advice in this book.

The focus on a *pleasant* marathon is huge, in my opinion. I saw too many people on that course who were breathing much too hard, grunting, limping, etc. They did not appear to be enjoying themselves. Sure, professional athletes sacrifice their short term physical well-being for the sport. But that's their JOB. This, you crazy runners, is supposedly your HOBBY. I mean, let's be honest, if I saw you at any point on the course, you were never in contention for the winner's circle. So you might as well slow down to the pace where you can enjoy yourself.

To pass the time, I dedicated some of the miles to various people. I did my best to spend the mile thinking about that person and having an imaginary conversation with them while they ran to my right as we talked about happy shared memories, and I imagined what they would think of what I was seeing and feeling on the course during that mile.

I offered up miles to some people and let them pick. E chose mile 7. His rationale? "I want something easy, near the front, so that at the end you don't finish and look at me with hatred saying, 'YOU! Your mile SUCKED!'" So, he picked 7. At 6.15 miles I realized it was already the 7th mile and that I should be appreciating E and thinking about him and how he'd like this portion of the race. Instead, all I could think of was E's take on zero-index vs. one-index and how it was proper that I realize that like all proper arrays, the miles in a marathon start at zero, not mile 1.

At mile 11, I started the imagination phase of the race. Grandpa Jack. I hadn't spent a long time thinking about him in quite some time. He passed away when I was 12. He was a math and logic guy. I imagined talking with him about my practice of law and how it was both verbal and something that math and logic guy would enjoy.

I had Grandpa Jack hand me off to Grandma Mary. She was never one to exercise much, so I imagined her making light of my predicament. I imagined telling her that she was one of the more zen people I ever knew and that the older I got, the more I was seeking this state of mind. I imagined asking her for some guidance. At just this point, the barefoot runner Ken Bob ran buy and smiled at me, telling me to have a good race. Ask and ye shall receive...

Grandma Mary handed me off to mom. Sweet mom. I imagined her babbling at me with overflowing love and affection, discussing everything and anything that occurred to her to get me through all of mile 13. And then it was the half.

JayKay got mile 14 and waited for mom to say goodbye in my imagination before she busted out with, "I've got one word for you: Caribou!" This is not funny to anyone except us. But, like JayKay in real life, my imaginary JayKay made me laugh for an entire mile with memories of crying at the McDonald's commercial during the Olympics, pouring wine over a baseball player, true friends will gag each other, blowfish on the windows, mookie rike, and stadiums, lots of stadiums.

Mile 15 I spent chilling with AS. It was a slightly tough mile, but AS is tough and together we laughed at the hill and what people were slowly starting to get quite frustrated about.

Mile 16 I spent imagining myself alongside nish. Unfortunately, I didn't have to imagine the watch of a canadian woman that liked to buzz, beeb, and ring like a bad cell phone every 15 to 30 seconds. It was horrid. I hated the noise. It started to really annoy me and in my mind, Nish agreed. So I took off at a faster pace and left the watch-woman in the dust.

Mile 17 I spent imagining myself running with AIW. I slowed the pace because he would want me to be slow and steady (also, I was exhausted from mile 16 with nish). Unfortunately, the watch-woman returned. I imagined AIW was as annoyed as me, so we picked up the pace and left the watch noises behind.

Mile 18 was my niece. Ironically, it was also the first mile where there were children stationed to cheer you on. All sorts of young, adorable, bright, shiny, loud, enthusiastic, high-five giving children. I could not help but think that my niece would be happy amongst those kids. And I also imagined how great it would be to have my child-niece's legs at this point.

Mile 19 was my bro. I imagined him starting the mile by telling me I was crazy but that he was proud of me, none-the-less. Then, all the cheering people on the course were young baseball players with unkept hair and breaking voices. They reminded me of him in his youth and almost made me teary with nostalgia. They were so sincere and enthusiastic in their cheering for us, it was amaazing.

Mile 20 was my sis. Again, my imagination kicked in and made the experience more fun. Mile 20 was full of gangly teen-age girls, most of whom yelled cheers at the runners. They all reminded me of my sister when she was their age. Beautiful. Long-limbed. Like giraffes. Or Colts. Only yelling at you to run faster in a way that is adorable and inspirational.

At the end of mile 20, I stopped to walk for gu and imagined a chat with A, to whom I'd promised mile 21. She's mentioned that in her marathon mile 21 was approximately where she started dedicating miles to the body parts that hurt the most. I imagined a conversation with her where I was honest about how much my knees hurt, but also, admitted that overall, I was holding up nicely.

Mile 22 was H. I imagined her, like my brother, laughing at my craziness. But, I also imagined her expecting me to run up the hill. After all, I was crazy.

Mile 23 was lucky_girl. There were hills. I could hear her voice saying, "I *hate* hills." I imagined myself coaxing her up the hills for the entire mile. It worked.

Mile 24 was R. Lucky_girl hung out in my imagination for a brief 3-person imaginary run. Then, it was just R and me. I imagined telling R about the girl with labored breathing from lucky_girl's mile who kept catching up to me and then falling behind. I heard her approaching again and turned to her, saying, "What pace are you shooting for?" She GLARED at me. Then, she took off her fuel belt/water bottle carrier and threw it at the nearest house to her left. It hit the house with a large bang. Immediately, R's voice in my head shouted,

Fuck that shit. You don't need her. Let's dust that bitch.

Hilarious! First, if you know R, she'd never actually say this unless it was a joke. Second, who says "dust" to mean go fast? Anyways, this got me to speed up so much that I never saw this girl again. Sweet!

Mile 25 was Miss E. I started the mile imagining telling her how much I appreciated having a running buddy. Then, a group of 4 women runners caught up to me. They made room for me. The were clearly using me as a pacer, but unlike bitter-one-who-threw-water, they silently welcomed me into their group. After 8 minutes or so, we started to drift apart. They had a group commitment and one of their members was slowing. So they all slowed. They were much more committed to staying with one another than being a minute or two faster. I thought this was a very appropriate thing to experience on E2's mile since both of us have done races where we finished with the other person because we wanted to, regardless of whether we could have gone faster.

Mile 26 was dad. I was scared. A few times prior to this mile, I'd thought of him and started to cry-breathe. I was pleasantly surprised to find that my imagination brought the dad of the soccer side lines. Immediately, after I imagined him saying hello and commenting on the gorgeous southern CA weather, I could hear him saying, "see that girl with the ponytail? You'd better pass her." And then, "that guy over there? He's just asking to be passed." Mile 26 was fast. And difficult.

Mile 26.2 was gran. She's been through more in her lifetime than I can imagine. So, I thought it fitting that I dedicate my last few feet of the race to her. It's kind of silly to think about not having the willpower to finish the last 1/5 of a mile when you're thinking about everything the 80-year-old mother to your recently passed away father has been through. So I thought of her and then crossed the finish line in a state of glorious, triumphant, huge-grin, numbness to physical pain.

I did it, AND I spent time imagining and revisiting relationships that are important to me. It was a great weekend.

Last Chance to Back Out

[Grin] Not that I'm considering it, I just think it's a funny idea. After 18 weeks of training and sacrifice plus the luck of good weather and not getting injured, theoretically, I could just decide not to run the marathon.

Logically I know this is an option, but I don't really feel like I have a choice. There's too much momentum behind me.

Anyways, I'm excited. Think good thoughts for me tomorrow morning.

I love modern endodontistry

No more pain. Slight bruising, and I can't open my mouth that far. But excruciating pain? All gone.

Unlike every other item on the list of my most painful experiences from yesterday, this one can be completely solved in an hour.

What an age we live in!

Painful Clarity

I spend the majority of my days in lack of any real pain. Annoyances? twinges? Mild Soreness? Sure. But no crippling pain.

Right now, on the other hand, I've got a toothache that is radiating from the tooth in question through my cheek, into other teeth, up through my temples, through my neck, and into my ear.

When I rank the times I've truly been in pain, this one is up there:

1. Dislocated shoulder that stayed out for 3 minutes or more.
2. Dislocated shoulder slammed back into place when I hit the water.
3. The sensation after the nerve block wore off from shoulder surgery.
4. Kidney Stones.
5. This toothache.
6. Horrid earaches where my ear swelled closed.
7. Broken ankle.

Tomorrow I'll go see the dentist (for the 3rd time in 3 weeks). But tonight, tonight I've got to tough it out (thankfully, I've got some pain medication lying around.) Even with the pain meds, I'm struggling.

But, I'm also amazed at the clarity that comes with the pain. There is nothing like physical pain to put your priorities in check. I can't believe the thoughts I've wasted this week on anxiety over things that just don't matter. Damn! If I wanted to worry about something, I should have been worrying about the outcome of my crown (which, it would appear, will need to be a root canal, after all).

Or better yet, I should have taken the time to appreciate how good I felt and how well my body was working for me instead of thinking about some stupid sentence I said to someone I wanted to impress and wondering if they thought it was as stupid as I did.

Seriously. I'm so jealous of my formerly pain free self. So blissful that existence is. And I don't appreciate it enough.

Upon recovery, I shall appreciate it more.

Perhaps I should buy one of his books

I am: Gregory Benford A master literary stylist who is also a working scientist.

Which science fiction writer are you?

The real Greg Benford once took this quiz, and it told him he was Arthur C. Clarke.


And I like Arthur C. Clarke, so in theory, I should like Benford, too...

1st Year Associate Inventory

Being able to financially justify staying at the business hotel in my hometown this weekend: good.

Needing to return to the business hotel and do work between my niece's 5-year old pretty princess in the park party and dinner at brother's: bad. (I guess this just goes to show, the reality of the justification is never as pretty as the mental image...)

8 easy miles of running this morning at a slow pace on my last long run before the marathon: good.

Returning to an email asking/ordering me to finish some diligence before the afternoon (read, before I would have even finished the trip home): bad.

Late night diligence: okay.

Doing diligence while munching on dark chocolate, shortcake from the French Laundry, and listening to E's collection of Aphrodite: much better.

Knowing how slammed my week is, already, and knowing that it'll probably get worse but I've got to find a way to get to my marathon and run it: interesting...

I'll let you know how it all turns out when I'm in the clear.

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Yesterday, I found a large silver envelope sticking out of our mailbox.

It appears that someone anonymously addressed a gift to me.

A subscription to the Bacon of the Month Club complete with snout mask, incomprehensible T-shirt, and a little rubber pig, among other trinkets.

R said it best, "Who would give such an awesome gift and then not want to take credit?"

My response? "E, of course. If it's a gift, then I have to accept it graciously and he gets bacon every month."

Alas, while E was impressed with my cleverness and may employ that trick in the future, it turns out it was a belated wedding/christmas present to him (us?) from two of his groomsmen.

So, yeah. Fair warning: Expect 2007 to include lots of bacon recipes.

Training for a cooking marathon

So, I've been spending much of my spare time thinking about HK's dilemma.


Adventurous when it comes to food.
Not much experience with cooking.
Decent-sized kitchen.
NYC.


It's got the makings of a reality TV show, I tell you.

Anyways, here's my first and most ambitious suggestion: I figure it takes about a 6 months to a year to build up the base and a solid 18-20 week commitment to run a marathon. HK knows this. So, if I were him, I'd approach his cooking goals with the same attitude. I'd give myself 6 months for the basics and then an 18-20 week intense period of time for training, after which, I'd be a full-fledged home cook with lots of experience and useful recipes under my belt. Ideally, he'd schedule a big meal for family or friends as his "marathon" and tell us all about it, but perhaps I'm a bit ahead of myself?

A more reasonable suggestion, and one that perhaps lines up more readily with his request for subtle (not overwhelming) aid, would be to acquire one of the following and use it at will to develop his skills:

1. The Better Homes and Gardens Ring Bound Plaid Staple. It's a classic. My mother used it. My friends' mothers used it. It's updated and at $29.99 it's a steal. I guarantee it will meet the expectations of any beginning cook who needs to understand what they are doing and find recipes for their favorites.

2. Irma S. Rombauer's Classic: The Joy of Cooking. Yes, another classic. Food has been part of human existence for as long as we've been surviving. So, I stand by my preference for the classics. This is the *other* book that my mother and all of my friends' mothers turned to.

3. Women's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery, circa 1966. See, despite my recommendations, I don't actually own the BHG or the JOC. Instead, I refer constantly to these gems, left to my by my maternal grandmother. If you want to know the history of any food you eat, it's in here. Want to know the millions of ways you can prepare a fig? You got it. Interested in Danish food? Look under D, there's a whole sub-cook-book. Many of the articles are authored by James Beard. Any type of food you can think of, there will be multiple simple recipes on how to prepare it. Bang for the buck, this is probably the best option out there for aspiring home cooks. But, then again, HK said he's a *single* 28M. Perhaps he doesn't want a collection Women's Day Encyclopedias on his counter...(they are, however, very urban, angsty, hipster, retro, chic, much to my chagrin.)

4. How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman. At $14.95, it's even harder to argue with than BHG. I own it and I will admit than every recipe I have tried from it has absolutely acceptable. No disasters. No high-effort likely-to-fail stressful endeavors. Solid and Good.

5. Subscribe to Food and Wine, Bon Apetit or some other foody magazine. At $12 or so for the year, this is another steal. You can mark recipes you like with sticky notes and keep them forever. I did this for two years while I was developing my cooking knowledge. To this date, I have probably only managed to complete about 20% of the recipes I marked as "to prepare." Even when I didn't mark the recipes as "to prepare," I still read them to determine if they made the cut. The act of reading recipes and stories about travel/culture/food (my version of porn) educated me and kept me interested as I was learning more and cooking. If you fear you will lose interest and you like the idea of a monthly reminder, I would actually recommend this as a first approach. Promise yourself that you will make 4 recipes from each issue. Mark 'em and go to the store and buy the exact ingredients and follow the steps. At the end of the year, you'll have acquired an immeasurable amount of knowledge about your food preparation likes & dislikes, as well as how to work your oven, use ingredients, etc.

In using these resources, I would recommend the following approach:

1. Soups: learn to make at least 2 from memory. They are a staple in any healthy diet and one of the easiest things to modify with random stuff from the pantry and fridge. I recommend you pick your two favorite soups and learn to make them. If you don't have a blender or cuisinart, stay away from puréed soups and go for chunkier ones.

2. Vegetable side dishes: try out several and determine your style. Memorize and become completely familiar with at least 2.

3. Meat dishes. Depends on your orientation. I tend to think that since meat is one of the more expensive raw materials you can use in the kitchen, I'd leave it for last on the list of things I'd experiment with. That being said, I didn't *really* get into cooking 'til I bought 2 cases of cooked wine (stupid webvan.com and their un-airconditioned warehouse over the summer!) and had to find a way to use it, which meant a year of cooking meat and impressing people. Turns out, it's not that hard and damn, do people like a well-prepared meal of meat (particularly if it's in a wine sauce). I recommend a simple black-pepper steak, filet mignon, pork chops over some sort of greens, and lamb chops as options that are fairly simple and designed to impress if you get 'em right. Any of the basic recipe sources listed above should have instructions on how to prepare each of these.

4. Pasta dishes. Seriously. Master 1 or 2 pasta dishes from scratch, starting with good pasta in the box (like Barilla). Easy to do. Guaranteed to smell awesome. A good place to start if you are skittish about your cooking skills -- they will build your confidence.

5. Rice. Risotto. Stir-fry. Rice-based soups. Pick one or more. Learn how to do one or two versions as a staple. You will be happy you did.

6. Salads. Everyone should know how to walk into the produce market and buy 5 fresh ingredients to make a salad that is delicious. The trick is learning to make your own dressing from scratch and choosing fresh in-season ingredients that compliment each other. This is a great place to start if you are concerned about burning things. Make a great salad, serve it with artisanal bread, nice olive oil for dipping and an artisinal cheese with a complimentary wine and all of a sudden you look like a gourmet cook despite the lack of any and all cooking.

7. Baking. I came to baking late in life. It's comfort food. It's much less forgiving than other kinds of cooking. And, it's very much appreciated. Bake your own pizza crust for home-made pizza, for example, and all of a sudden, the act of cutting up some pre-purchased ingredients and laying them on some pre-purchased sauce (unless you want to make it from scratch, which I recommend, but still, work with me here) becomes inspired. People rave. Similar responses are available for things like Brownies, home-made breads, cookies, cakes. I say let your appetite be your guide in this area and be sure to follow the recipes EXACTLY. In soups, rice, pastas, vegetable side dishes, salads, and even to some extent meat, you can improvise. But with baking: No. Just be a conformist. It tastes better that way.

8, 9, 10. In my opinion the whole point of cooking is to satisfy your own basic desires. So pick some 3 dishes you love and learn to make them. Best case scenario, they will become your signature dishes. Worst case scenario, the recipe may be WAY TOO MUCH WORK and you may never make it again. But I guarantee you will enjoy it that much more when you order it at a restaurant (I feel this way about any seafood cake after making salmon cakes). What is likely to happen, however, is that in the course of making them, you will learn more about how to combine things in the kitchen in the style that you like. You may never make that exact recipe again, but in doing it the one time you'll acquire knowledge that will make you a great improvisational cook in the style of food you enjoy.

HK (and anyone else who finds this useful), I can't wait to hear about your successes in the kitchen!

On Basics

A long, long, time ago, I was a gymnast. My coach was very obsessed with what he called "basics." Handstands. Somersaults (back & front). Bridges. Shoulder blocks. Proper running form. Hollow body holds. Handsprings (back & front). Block Jumps. Kips. Free Hip Circles. 1/4 turn handsprings (aka roundoffs). Jumping into the air and spinning 360 degrees before landing with your feet in the same spot. Walking (I'm not kidding). Scales.

It was his opinion that if you could truly master all of these things, the more complicated tricks were yours for the taking. Those of you who are familiar with gymnastics or acrobatics will note that the list above does not include a single full salto. No front flips. No back flips. Certainly no twisting flips. And, goodness gracious, no combination of multiple flipping and twisting. Yet that was the ultimate goal. And one that most of us eventually reached. Most of us achieved success at various tricks with less injuries and more air awareness than our competitors from other nearby gyms. We were slower to achieve. But we had staying power (or as much staying power as a 15-year-old female gymnast can hope to have, you know, like 1 full season of competition...).

This focus on basics has bled into other areas of my life and formed my philosophy in many areas. I believe if you get your head or body or senses around the fundamentals of most fields of study, the complex stuff will eventually work itself out for you because it has too. And if it doesn't, then either, you need more work on the basics, or you can actually spot the fundamental flaw and you can make the field a better place.

HK recently left a comment on my blog,


So, what I'm needing now is this: I've never had either the means or interest to cook for myself, have a decent-sized kitchen that has gone unused for the past six years, and have resolved this year to(among other items) cook and bake more. What cookbooks or steps would you recommend to someone so situated? (a 28M bachelor in New York City with a flare for the adventurous eating-wise).


His desire for flare and adventure is much like a gymnast's desire for a full-in, full-out dismount from the uneven parallel bars. Admirable, but scary and likely to result in much more disastrous failure than starting with a simple straight body layout dismount.

But, the thing is, there are tricks. There are ways to make it look like you are doing difficult things when really what you are doing is the specialized simple. Those outside of the gym have no idea that a front tuck mount to the beam is blind, but fairly easy. It looks impressive and it's easy to master if you've got a solid running form and front somersault. So, in that vein, I'm going to collect my food thoughts for a few days and come up with a general plan for HK that is both basics-based and high on adventure/flare. In the mean-time, I'm collecting your thoughts and preferences. Any suggestions (other than dixy_chick's very helpful suggestion to go Asian, which, flare-wise is an excellent one, albeit one that involves many failures, in my experience)?

Coolest Web Link

This is the coolest representation of data I've seen in a while.

24 hour time-lapse of US flight data.

Be sure to click the picture to see the whole thing. Very cool and interesting.

Californian Pleasure Overload

First, let us rejoice because the weather has returned to California norms.

Now then...

E and I left after work on friday to drive 2+ hours in the country so that we could enjoy the return of the sun with a weekend in wine country. We alternated between eating (R's little bro is a chef there and he hooked us up!), lounging by the fire and sleeping, art and wine with family, eating a meal I'm not certain I'm qualified to write about, more lounging by the fire and sleeping (over 12 hours!), and, of course, more winetasting.

I learned that the stupid freeze, while bad for the California citrus is very good for the grapes. It pushes the sap deep into the roots and causes simultaneous fruit bearing/blooming, which means simultaneous ripening in the sun, which means easy to measure and harvest grapes for a high-quality must. So, we should be having an excellent Californian harvest for 2007. Also, I received exactly three work emails on my phone over the whole weekend, and other than a quick response to one of them, did not have to work at all. Celebration on all fronts!

My 12-mile run was a piece of cake at an easy 10:02 after sleeping in 'til 9:30 AM. The non-frozen weather, sun, and flat, gorgeous wine country did not hurt the motivation. Compared with the last few weeks of long runs, this one felt like it belonged in the weekend of vacation. Amazing that you can get to the point where 12 miles feels like an overly indulgent lazy experience. But trust me, I'm not built for endurance. If I can get to this point, so can anyone with similar determination and willingness to be an idiot.

On our southward return, we stopped at Ocean beach and took a photo of E & I in front of the crashing surf by the Cliff House. We have a similar photo from 5 years ago. It should be interesting to see how they compare. We watched the sunset from the new Cliff House. E was very disappointed at the renovations (much too modern for his old-fashioned tastes) as well as the eviction of the Musée Mechanique. Nostalgic is the word, I believe.

From there, we headed to a friend's house for his visiting parents-prepared banquet of south-Indian food. Mmmmm... We stuffed ourselves silly. You know, in case we hadn't eaten enough over the course of the rest of the weekend.

I think that covers it. I am spoiled, full of food, wine, conversation, smiles and happiness. More later this week on cooking basics, and, if I can gather my thoughts and taste bud memories enough, the dinner at the laundry, which, if I fail to write more, suffice it to say was every bit as superlative as the overused clichés would have it be.

Spicy Cabbage Tofu Stir Fry

Wok cooking is quite the opposite from the majority of my cooking repertoire. Most of the dinners I make have room for error. Tons of room. It wasn't until I started trying to cook with a wok that I realized how forgiving salads, sauteed vegetables, soups, stews, risottos, pastas, and baked dishes can be. Need an extra 5 minutes to chop the onions? Go ahead and take it. Need to turn off the heat for a few minutes? Go right ahead. I generally treat cooking dinner as a relaxing not-too-structured creative event.

Asian cooking, at least in a wok, is entirely different. For many of the recipes I've followed as I'm stumbling into this new cooking area, the entire cooking process is finished in 10 minutes. At first I tried to chop ingredients while others were sizzling away, but I'm finally accepting that you really do have to chop *everything* before you heat the oil. Tonight's dinner was excellent, but mainly because E stirred the onions, peppers & garlic in the wok while I chopped the cabbage. It probably only took me 2 minutes to chop the cabbage, but at the high heat, that could have meant that some of the garlic, onions, and peppers might have burnt were it not for E.

Spicy Cabbage Tofu Stir-fry

vegetable oil for high-heat stir frying (I use canola)
1/3 head of napa cabbage, washed and chopped
1/3 yellow onion, chopped
4-5 cloves of garlic, minced
2 red jalapenos, minced

1 package firm tofu, chopped into 1/2 in. cubes
sesame oil
soy sauce
furikake
red pepper flakes

1. First make the marinade by mixing 2-3 T sesame oil with equal part soy sauce, 3 tsp (or more) furikake & a dash of red pepper flakes. Pour over the tofu and let soak while you chop the vegetables. Stir/Toss occasionally.

2. Chop vegetables and have them near the wok, ready to go.

3. Heat vegetable oil to high and swirl around the wok. Add the garlic, peppers & onion and stir-fry until onions are slightly clear. Add the cabbage and stir until the cabbage starts to wilt (2-3 minutes).

4. Pour marinade and tofu into the wok. Stir. Bring sauce to a boil, turn to medium heat, cover & let cabbage steam in boiling sauce for another 3-4 minutes ('til tender, but still slightly crisp).

5. Remove from heat and serve immediately. Enjoy!

His & Hers Blowtorches

In case you were wondering, the community property creme brulee torch doesn't have enough kick to melt the solder on a burst pipe (thanks to the California Freeze).

Sure, it sucks to have to turn off the water and do house repair, but I think E was secretly thrilled at the need for a full-strength plumbing torch. Me, I'm just happy that we've implicitly agreed to separate property ownership of the two torches. Mine: butane, for sugar. His: propane, for plumbing.

Ahhh... married life.

Marathon: 3 weeks to go

Oh, what a difference a week makes!

I wouldn't have believed it if you had told me, but this week's 20-miler was actually *easier* than last week's horrific 14-miler. I completed it at an average pace of 9:52, just slightly faster than my target race pace of 10:00, which was a pleasant surprise. I was able to hit this average pace mainly because I busted out the last two miles at 8:56 and 8:30, so a race pace of 10:00 is probably right about the proper target for an additional 6 miles.

I was grinning when I finished. I felt good, strong, happy, and very proud of myself. I knew I could do another 6 miles if I had to. E commented that I looked much better than I did at the end of last week's long run. Plus, there was no nausea, nor any need to drop to my knees after the shower. Instead of needing to go home and eat away from the burrito joint, I was able to go to a friend's and enjoy a huge girls' champagne lunch. (Yes, not ideal, I know...but you think I'm gonna miss 4 of my closest girl friends and frittata, raspberry bread pudding, salami, cheese, cornbread, roasted chicken salad, capers and shrimp, papaya, an assortment of berries and dark chocolate paired with great conversation and sparkling wine? If you do, you have not been reading this blog very long. I love to run, and want to recover from my long run, but not so much that I'd miss out on fun like that, please!)

So for those that care, here's my analysis of all the things that were different between the last two weeks' long runs to help me understand my training and recovery:

The mid-week runs
This past week, I did all of the training on my schedule this week on exactly the days assigned, at or below race pace (this was probably a bit too intense, but it was my last hard week of training before taper and I was out of shape, so I felt that it was worth the risk). Before the 14-miler, in contrast, I'd rearranged about two week's worth of runs to fit the holidays and work, had done all of the ones I could fit in at very slow paces, had battled a cold and missed several miles, and only allowed myself 5 days between the previous long run of 16.5 and the 14-miler.

Fuel
This run, I stayed true to my favorite gu flavors: vanilla bean (mile 8) and espresso love (mile 14). Chocolate and I do not get along. I also swung back by the house for a half-glass of gatorade after mile 6.

Hydration During The Run
Last run, I took a walk break for at least two ounces of water at every 2 mile mark, except after the gu, where I waited to mile 8.65. This run, I took a walk break for water at miles 2 and 4, stopped for gatorade and to lose the jacket at mile 6, and had an ounce or two of water at every mile after ingesting the gu (miles 8-20) instead of waiting to the 2-mile marks.

Walk Breaks & Pacing
Probably the biggest difference between the two was this: I took it relatively easy 'til mile 12 of the 20-miler, at which point I started to slowly decrease my pace to well below my target race pace. In contrast, I tried to hit race-pace almost immediately on the 14-miler and had trouble maintaining it.

For the 14-miler, I did my standard .25 mile walking warm-up before the first mile at 10:13, and then then mile 2 at 9:46 and mile 3 at 9:39. I tried to maintain 10-15 seconds below race pace for every mile and took walk breaks at every 2 mile mark (except 8.65 instead of 8). This meant the 14-miler was roughly 7 2-mile chunks with a walking warm-up and cool-down that didn't count toward the mileage.

For the 20-miler, I started jogging as soon as I left the house instead of walking (I didn't want to add any extra distance, even .25 miles). In exchange, I told myself I could do the first few miles as slow as I wanted to warm up -- so I did miles 1-2 at 10:22, with mile 3 at 10:26.

I decided to view the 20-miler in chunks: a slow 6-mile warm-up ending back at my house to get rid of some layers and take in some gatorade. 2 miles at race pace and then some gu. A 10-k at slightly below race pace. More gu. Another 10-k at slightly faster than the last one. The benefit that I saw to this plan was that the marathon would be just one more gu stop and another 10-k.

Another benefit that I hadn't considered was that after taking walk breaks at miles 2, 4, 6, and 8 I didn't take any additional walk breaks except at mile 14 when I had more gu. Instead of 10 walk breaks, I only took 5. This meant my overall pace was faster even though my running pace was slightly slower for most of the miles.

The Pre-Run Routine
The night before the 14-miler, I had angry pasta, wine, tea, water, a few squares of dark chocolate and went to bed early for about 11 hours of sleep (as an aside, I've been needing much more sleep than normal these last few weeks of training). The night before this run, I had Tuscan bean soup, water, tea, more water, more tea, a few squares of dark chocolate and, just before bed, I had half a package of chocolate graham crackers with more water. Both nights I did mild stretching before sleep.

I like to run on an empty stomach with nothing but gatorade and/or coffee/water. The morning before the 14-miler I drank at least a liter of gatorade. Before the 20-miler I had a glass (10 oz?) of gatorade.

I started the 20-miler at 8:20 AM, after 8.5 hours of sleep. Because I started early, I was done with the 20-miler at 11:40 AM or so in time to stuff my face for lunch. For the 14-miler, I waited 'til around 11:00 to start and thus, wasn't able to eat anything other than the chocolate gu (which didn't agree with me) 'til around 3:00 PM.

I think the 18-hour fast between the end of dinner and the end of the 14-mile run is largely responsible for some of the nausea and muscular discomfort of the 14-miler. In contrast, thanks to the late snack and early start, I had only gone just slightly over 12-hours between my last substantive meal and the end of the 20-miler. I'm not sure what to think about the fact that I had a couple of glasses of wine before the bad run and none before the good one. In the past, I've run some of my fastest races after dinner including a glass or two of wine and as long as I had enough hydrating liquids along with the wine I haven't noticed much of a difference. That being said, given how great I felt on the 20-miler, I think I'll avoid wine the night before the marathon just to be safe.

Recovery
While I felt worse immediately after the 14-miler, I definitely slept worse after the 20-miler. Last night, I woke multiple times to an anxious body full of various mild pains. I'm much more sore today than I was the day after the 14-miler. I can only imagine the level of cellular repair that must be going on in my body right now. Thankfully, E bought me a massage for today, so I should feel much better shortly. Regardless, I am prepared for a very fitful night of sleep after the marathon and a very sore few days that follow.

The good news is, I am officially in taper. It's all downhill from here 'til the big day!

Say Cheese!

In a fitting continuation of the Californian Celebration of the week, I can heartily recommend that you all go try:

San Joaquin Gold.

$10 for a big old chunk of the wheel. 16-month aged cow's milk cheese. Salty. Sharp. Somewhere between fontina and manchego in terms of taste with a nice dry but not too-dry aged parmigiano texture -- excellent for ribbon grating over home-made Tuscan bean soup, if I do say so myself.

If I was blind-folded I'd guess Spain or Italy as the Country of origin. But no. California. Despite the naysayers, and its history of shoddy product, the heart of the San Joaquin Valley can make artisanal food products that rival Europe in quality (and kick its ass in price (after importing)). And when it does, we should all embrace it!

Enjoy!

A California Moment

Sometimes I forget what a fabulous State this is.

Yesterday, I was reminded, yet again.

Thanks to Miss E. I was invited to an evening at a spa, restaurant, and lodge. Upon arriving, we enjoyed the sunset, some wine, a hot tub, and entirely too much fabulous conversation before drifting off to sleep. I was so very glad that I made it a priority to take her up on her offer and so thankful that she made it.

But the gratitude hit me with full force before I even saw her. I left work a wee bit before the normal leaving time, and it felt good. Within 30 minutes, my shoulders relaxed and my breathing deepened as my body sensed the luxury of vacation all the while twisting the steering wheel on the winding roads through farmland. Within 38 minutes, I could see the coast and the crashing surf stretching for miles. And at approximately 3/4 of an hour, I realized that this was my life. I love the ocean. Thus, I should, nay, I must, stop and visit one of the several gorgeous, empty, beaches.

So, I did.

I pulled over.
I stopped the car and took up two of the closest parking spots to the beach entrance.
I got out and climbed the dune in my work clothes (boots with heels included).
I took pictures of the setting sun.
I grabbed a handful of sand and let it run through my fingers.
I realized I was grinning like a fool.
I felt so alive. And rich.

The treasure of a blindingly beautiful 65 degree sunset along the Californian coast just seems too precious to be available to me whenever I want to take the time to enjoy it. And yet, there I was.

All I had to do was leave work, drive, and stop.

Fashion

I think the metamorphosis is complete. I'm finally at a point in my life where I'm paying some attention to fashion. It's been a long time coming. Just ask my friends and family.

I've always had strong opinions about practicality of clothes. Stupidity of clothes and accessory trends. Value in well-made pieces to be worn or used as accents. But it's taken me quite some time to mesh my opinions with the reality that even choosing not to act is an action. And inaction in fashion, well, it's like inaction in many things. It shows.

Recently, within the last few years or so, I've had to accept that fashion plays a bigger role in society than I wanted to admit. To show up poorly dressed IS a statement. At worst, it's a big raised middle finger. At best, it's a silent scream of, "I don't have to care about your concept of well-dressed, because my reputation, skills, connections, etc. are enough to speak for me."

I always wanted to be making NO statement with my appearance. I always wanted the things I considered to be my strongest attributes to be the ones that made the impression. When I finally admitted that I was going to be (and had been) making a fashion statement with my attempt at a non-statement I started to acquire nice quality fashionable pieces and coordinate them into a wardrobe that fit my fashion personality.

Where I am going with all of this?

Well, tonight I broke down and spent $70 on socks. That's right. Socks. Despite the last few years of slowly building a somewhat decent wardrobe and shoe collection, I never purchased socks. In fact, I think I may never have really purchased socks other than work out socks in my entire life. The only non-workout socks I ever had were gifts.

So, I follow my traditional practical pattern and wear what's clean and won't be needed for other activities, which means the workout socks (ooohhhh... new Balegas from E for Christmas) are off limits for work, and I'm stuck wearing the occasional nice stockings (when circumstances require it) but mainly knitted socks that I haven't thrown out from high school on, with the largest portion made up by the Christmas sock collection given to me by JayKay, circa 1996-98.

See, even back then, JayKay, a true fashion-lover and wonderful person who understands the connection between looking good, feeling good, and being great, knew I needed sock fashion help.

And today, my friends, I finally gave in.

To Evolution!

Marathon: 4 weeks to go

Well, folks, this should be interesting. Today, I did my scheduled 14-mile long run at just slightly slower than my target race pace (I was targeting 10-minute-miles for a pleasant experience in my first marathon, and did today's 14 at a painful 10:12). This was the first long run I'd done at race pace since December 9th. Back then (we shall refer to this as "BA," or before Atlanta), I easily did 15 miles in the hills of San Francisco at a 9:49 pace.

For all the runs between December 9th and now, however, I'd been loafing. And, to be honest, I let the world's worst cold and my laziness combine to the point of not ever getting out the door, so much. So, my weakly (sic) mileage totals in the last three weeks have been between 1.5 to 13 miles short of the already very-light for marathon training goals. This translated into easier and slower long runs over the last 3 weeks in order to ensure I hit the distance goals. I had read enough to know one thing -- the certain way to screw yourself in marathon training is to cheat on your long runs.

Today, I could find no more justifications for taking it easy on my long run. I was home, with no major responsibilities more important than my workout plan. I'd slept 11 hours. It was a gorgeous clear day at 65 degrees. It was a step-back week which meant my long run was shorter than last week's and much shorter than next week's. So I set out with the goal of trying to maintain race pace and using this run to gauge just how far I'd fallen in terms of my training.

Keeping to race pace was DIFFICULT. There was no way I could attain the 11 seconds faster pace I'd set back in early December. The Gu at mile 7 seemed to help, like it usually does, so I did an easy 9:45 and 9:44 mile for 8 and 9. Unfortunately, instead of taking my typical water break 2 miles after the gu, I decided to press on for another .85 because I was behind and I knew there would be a mandatory break in my run at the freeway overpass. Bad idea. Stomach upset!

100 feet before my Garmin beeped mile 14, I had to sprint (Okay, I had to move fast enough that the cars would know I was trying to hustle, but it wasn't even close to a sprint, more like a hobble) across a stoplight before it changed to red.

An eternity later, when the watch beeped mile 14, instead of feeling relief at being done, felt like I needed to puke. Badly. Like I was looking around at my neighbors' yards to find the least noticeable place to do the deed. Also, I was thinking, "holy shit, I think I'm going to do 12 more miles at this pace?"

Thankfully, the cool down walk calmed my stomach and I was too tired to think about the actual distance of a marathon. When I got home, I thought I was in the clear, and made plans to go grab food with E after I got clean. But, I underestimated the effect of the hot shower (okay, I like them scalding...). I was shaky. Much too shaky. No time to condition the hair, I think I'm gonna...

This, my friends, would explain how I found myself, 2 minutes after I started my shower, naked, dripping, and taking deep breaths into my bedroom carpet in child's pose.

Eventually, I was able to stand and collect myself. Shortly thereafter I was able to go to one of the local burrito joints and order carne asada tacos. But, I had to leave when another round of nausea hit as I looked at the various meats in sauces (the same ones that usually make me drool with anticipation). We took our food to go.

I am happy to report that I was able to gobble my food with no problem and have felt fine since. But, just in case, I've been taking it easy on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, with cups of tea, People magazine, and Runner's world. Those loafing instincts from the languid South die hard, I tell you.

What have I learned from today?

1. The whole training and untraining thing isn't a joke.

2. Chocolate Gu is no longer welcome on my long runs. But, a water break for at least the first two 10 minute periods after the gu are.

3. I will more than likely need to set a new race pace goal if I want the Marathon to be a pleasant experience. (More info after next week's 20-miler.)

4. Losing the majority of the weight I gained in Atlanta helped with muscle pain between last week's 16.5 miler and today's 14 miler but the increased speed today caused way more immediate discomfort after the run than the increased weight last week.

5. I re-verified that if I'm just too out of shape to finish my first marathon while enjoying it, I'll drop out, finish the half and do a different one a month later. There are two options and both are still open for registration.

6. Finally, thanks to runner's world, I learned that Lance Armstrong thinks completing a Marathon is 10-times more difficult than riding a Tour de France. Also, his longest long run was 13 miles (not 16, like he told the press) and couldn't complete a 25-minute training run due to shin splints 3 weeks before the race. So, I'm thinking if Lance can pull out a sub-3 NYC marathon, then I may be able to pull it together to just finish sub-5.

Dead Sexy

That severe head cold that everyone you know has?

Me too. Sniffling, sneezing, coughing, more sniffling, headache, more sniffling, can't sleep, couldn't run this AM due to the combo of the cold and the rain outside (can't really do a nose this runny on the treadmill).

But wait, there's more.

I also have a gigantic sty in my right eye.

Awesome.

It Was Worth It

In case you were wondering, 10 days in the South for the holidays will result in approximately a 5% weight gain. That's right. 0.5% per day. About 200 days and I could double myself. Incredible.

But, as the title states, it was worth it. I can honestly say that I have never had 10 consecutive similarly culinarily amazing days in a row, including stints living in France and in Italy (no doubt because I was never hosted by in-laws there...).

December 23rd, we arrived late, assuming we'd make due with the snack boxes, only to be taken out to delicious French food where I had a light 4 course dinner. The trend continued throughout the trip.

December 24th, we started to enjoy what will henceforth be known for eternity as "the bacon christmas." Bacon sandwiches for lunch. Baked okra with bacon for dinner, on the side of beef tenderloin and green beans with bacon, of course.

Christmas breakfast? Grits fried in butter (DELICIOUS!), bacon, scrambled eggs, homemade bread and homemade blackberry preserves. Not that different from my childhood, except I'd never experienced fried grits before and was uneducated in the manner in which they can a) expand in your stomach; and b) turn you into an addict.

Christmas dinner? Tur-duck-en and all the fix'ns (including bacon brussel sprouts stuffing) with 3 other families. Bigger and more dressed up than what I'm used to. More hand-shaking and polite table talk. But, in general, almost the same as home and the food...Mmmmmm.

Midnight Christmas snack? That one generally takes the form of the best leftovers available and this year was no different. So E and I enjoyed midnight fried grits, bacon (duh!), and beer while watching For Your Eyes Only. Double-O-7-days of Christmas is one of my favorite things about Christmas in the South. I have no idea if its available nationwide, but I'd never experienced it 'til I came to visit, so I associate it with this part of the Country.

The day after Christmas we ate brunch with friends at a delicious, (but much too cool for the likes of us) cafe, then, we went out for another 4 course meal. This one was surpisingly expensive (one of the great things about leaving our hometown for other towns in the US is the lower cost of living just about everywhere other than NYC. Turns out, the expense came from the California wine). Apparently, we're spoiled here. Either, people in the South don't think much of paying $17/glass for what I consider a reasonably priced mid-level California Pinot, or, we should have asked how much the house pinot was before we ordered it. 3 glasses later, we we surprised at the $50 increase in the bill.

The next day, after a lunch of with E's parents at piebar pizza, which isn't exactly light, we met up with E's family for a delicious, but overly-big-portioned meal at newly-opened place-to-be-seen Trois. We all agreed the food was amazing, just too much. Note, E wasn't a huge fan of the super-cool ambiance. I really liked it. I suspect we may differ due to the complimentary pink sparkling wine upon seating -- not really E's thing.

So, there we were, December 28th, both of us visibly fatter in just 5 days, me, despite my continuing marathon training. Believe it or not, we had no food plans for the 28th. So, we did what any self-respecting Southerner who's left town and finds themself back in their old stomping grounds would do--we had an impromptu lunch of authentic pulled pork barbeque with the requisite fried sides and then a few hours later, we had dinner of all the holiday leftovers at E's parents. Mind you, I indulged in two desserts that night: sticky toffee pudding with sauce, AND bourbon ice cream. Seriously, how could you not love this place?

December 29th, we had a lunch that escapes my memory, but I can guarantee there was lard. And, for dinner, we had the best meal, food-wise (and the company was great as well -- E's best man and his wife), that E and I enjoyed in 2006. Bacchanalia. I can not rave enough about this meal. Amazing flavor, texture and wine combinations. Great service. Wonderful cheese tray. Innovative between-course (I refrained from saying inter-course, aren't you proud?) palate cleansers. Perfect portion sizes (except the extra oysters they gave me because we were one of the last seatings, wahhhh...). Excellent wine paring. I am interested to see how the whole experience compares to French Laundry, which E and I have reservations to enjoy in a few weeks (yeah, it's gonna be all celery and water 'til then if I want my clothes to fit...)

Anyways, I think you get the idea. It was gluttonous caloric mayhem. Rest assured there were more meals of pork, (most including bacon), beef, fried, and, of course, the required visits to both Chick-Fil-A and Waffle House. E always complains that no one in California knows how to make proper hash browns, green beans, okra, etc. I'm thinking that's not a bad thing. Perhaps proper hash browns and the like should be a vacation only activity...

Regardless, I can't recommend it enough. I feel so full with happiness. Nurtured. Loved. The only drawback was how much more difficult my long run was today...