Today I finished my first semester of law school. Finals came in like a lion and out like a lamb. And now there is fresh snow outside!! There is truly no better time for delirious snow angel making.
Ironically I am back in the library anyway, but with a lightened sense of being.
So my sunshine and I have been on a Glee kick lately. But I can only listen to Kurt and Blaine serenade each other so many times. For the love of cheesus, those two should just snog already.
Thanks to the wonders of the interwebs, I found this song by a Belgian m'mselle, called Hello Vietnam, originally Bonjour Vietnam.
After six months of labor to expel ridiculous amounts of information over the course of a little over 14 hours of examination, I ask myself, was it worth it? Who knows? I feel like I've accomplished something; at least I feel like I know more than I did in August. :)
My hair for the first time EVER decides that it will stay up in a Sarah Palin bun. Without pins. This cannot be my hair. Perhaps it has turned Republican without my knowledge.
I am reaganing. I only hope it lasts until the end of my last final.
The only good things I can think about finals are:
1) shushing people in the library disapprovingly
2) listening to oddball music for really long stretches of time
3) getting in touch with my inner feminist after watching Mad Men and feeling APPALLED
Lately, I've been listening to this Glee gender-bending love ballad to a con, called Valerie. Any love song wherein you wish your sweetheart a good lawyer is okay in my book.
Plus I found this band that rocks hard with two front women. It's really fascinating even to someone like me, who only knows heavy metal from Rock Band. But these ladies mean business. Many of the comments are something like this: wow, your band rocks hard even though you are women! I respect that. The axes are just man candy with long hair; they shred very well but I feel they are trying a bit. Maybe less cliff scenery and more shirt? Okay I will go back to reading silently.
When not memorizing contracts, I was reading about this lady who opened her own niche bakery called Awfully Chocolate in Singapore. She couldn't find a good chocolate cake and apparently her recipe took off like hotcakes (or cupcakes). I have a soft spot for bakers. Now she owns a moderately successful chain located in various Pac-Asian hub cities. Since this lady has conquered the dark chocolate challenge, I want to write to her and suggest that she add real cheesecake to her line of upscale bakery items. Cheesecake is not, as many Asian bakeries believe, a cake topped with cream cheese. I think it would have potential.
How I wish it were summer... the cold is rather unkind to me given my natural endothermic properties.
Holy crap, Harry and Hermione kiss (however these aren't the REAL Harry and Hermione). I cry over a CGI house elf's last words. The Ministry of Magic becomes the Stasi headquarters. The creepiest old lady EVER turns into a snake and I scream and spill popcorn in the process all over my intrepid law school friend. The ensemble work is just brilliant in this film. The CGI is tops and the movie is so well-paced, I could not believe it lasted over 2 hours. I haven't been so engaged in a fantasy film since, like, Return of the Jedi. The humor is pretty sweet too... the characters stay true to their book-version originals. I can't wait until the last installment.
As I flip through accessories on the internet, I am really thinking about my loved ones and making notes on which accessories remind me of them... some people shop to forget, but to me it's almost like looking at photos of my loved ones, and then imagining them wearing new outfits.
A whale-shaped bag is an homage to my whale-rider sunshine... I approve of the tail to head proportions.
A Hello Noms keycap (so I remember where my house key is... hm I might actually buy this)
A Tenleytown Bag (actually it DOES remind me of the Katzen Center).... eh yeah I can see it in the cream and black theme.
This is a shirt coveted by my friend. Who is taking me on one last banh mi run in NoVa. It's a little past 1 am, but they taste most delicious then. Is there anything better than pate on a baguette? I'm just writing this in happy anticipation. Maybe I'll get some cafe au lait with condensed milk.
Goodbyes are very, very sad. But I'm very happy for said friend, because goodbyes also lead to lots of other good things, too. I expect designer ramen when next I visit him.
I hear the beep of a zipcar. YES!!!!
[upon return]: We ended up at Bale Bakery (i.e. Paris Bakery) in Falls Church, where it is possible to get banh mi and a variety of delicious cold drinks (mostly involving red beans, coconut milk, and or/jelly) 24 hours/day. It was fun, and the banh mi did not disappoint. I didn't get the iced coffee, but I did try this drink made of coconut milk, rice noodles, red beans, and what I think was canned durian (still good). My tummy is quite happy and I'm quite sleepy now. Time to hug my giant stuffed panda and dream of heaven-sent sandwiches.
The friends down the block invited me to a flashy mustache-y birthday celebration.
I learned some very important things about mustache parties.
First, if you are a man, it is impressive to have a natural mustache, but even more impressive if you paste a fake mustache on top of that mustache.
Second, if you set up a make-your-own 'stache stand, including scissors contained in a swiss army knife is one excellent way to provide the goods.
Third, it is entirely legit to throw a party themed around the birthday girl's all-sequin dress.
Fourth, finger mustaches are IN. All you need is a sharpie and the appropriate finger above lip gesture. I loved it when some ladies visiting from FSU made "handlebar" finger mustaches by holding TWO fingers above the lip. Genius
In the midst of a storm, there is always a center of calm. I love Thursday evenings, when I can exhale deeply from the rest of the week and recharge for the upcoming study sessions over the weekend. What is your favorite day of the week?
Since my sunshine is making lists, I think it's as fine a time as any to make a list of things myself.
Things that I want to do:
Talk to friends more often Wake up early enough to see the sunrise (very, very rare) Sing more.Always have clean socks. Be prepared, I guess. Watch more super awesome fantasy/comedy series with my girls.
Make a deliciously cheesy slideshow of photos for a friend, eventually.
Take more goofy photos.
Appreciate freedom.
Spend less time worrying about myself, and more time learning about the world generally.
Write one solid article for publication, and then another.
Push myself even when I'm tired.
Be more forgiving and more direct.
Spend more time with my relatives while they can get around.
Spend less on things I don't need.
Support other people's needs more.
Assert myself more, rather than of shy away find from conflict.
Dream big, but remember that I have to build my own dream. Others' goals have never really fit me right.
Many thanks to my sunshine for her awesome post titles.
When the world gives you a gallon of milk for $1.49, make frozen custard.
This is ideally done with an ice cream machine, but for those of you with a freezer and a limited range of movement for 9 hours, it's still possible.
I started with a simple custard base (scald three cups of milk, pour in a half cup of hot milk into a bowl containing three egg yolks with vanilla extract, mix it up, add mixture back to pot of milk, add 1.5 cups of white sugar to everything, turn down the heat and warm covered for five minutes). After it was cool, I popped it in an airtight container, stuck it in the freezer, and now I await the results. I like to let it freeze for 3 hours, then shake it up, then pop it back in the freezer to freeze overnight. The texture isn't as good as if it were constantly being churned in a cold environment (hence the ice cream maker), but it makes a lovely gratinee that can be fluffed up with a fork. I'm sure it will make the perfect post-week dessert when I can finally chillax.
I recommend this recipe for particularly long nights, when you look forward to any excuse to get up and shake something up real good.
I stumbled across an old menu, reminding me of a particularly scrumptious meal.
Murasaki Japanese Cuisine and Sushi Bar is a little gem of a sushi place close to the Tenleytown Metro Station.
What you need to know: The restaurant serves very fresh fish, the soy sauce is excellent (yes there are grades), and the prices are not too steep (ranging from $6 for a regular spicy tuna roll to upwards of $12 for more elaborate rolls). The sushi is also really beautiful! One of the rolls that my wubs tried was shaped like a dragon. There's a lot of color and playing with sauces to keep things lively for the eye. And surprisingly, the stuff is very filling. The cuts of fish are generous and so is the nice, cohesive padding of rice around the fish. I know that too much rice offends the most pure of sushi purists, but I appreciate a little more rice around my sushi as long as it holds together nicely.
The space isn't very wide, but it's deep. I'd say it could seat at 60 people comfortably. The restaurant also offers catering and large party menus (for example, a menu for 8 people around $200 including 60 pieces of nigiri and 48 pieces of roll chosen by the chef).
Location: 5/5 noms
Service: 4/5 noms
Food: 5/5 noms
Price: 4/5 noms
Overall: 4.5/5 noms
Would I go back? This would be my first choice for sushi in Tenleytown, but I think whether I go back depends on who else wants sushi in Tenleytown. It's too pretty not to share.
Earlier this month, I asked what the point was of loving someone without ever telling them. Perhaps that was not the right question to ask. Love might not always have a point. Perhaps it just is, like the sunset.
Today's Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear offered an abundance of humor. Overall, the tone was pretty laid back. The highlights for me were the signs people brought. Text below:
What do we want? MODERATION!
When do we want it? WITHIN A REASONABLE AMOUNT OF TIME!
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[Back] My sign has a window in it. [Cut-out window]. You're welcome.
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I like turtles!
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Palin / Voldemorte 2012!
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My daddy says I'm too smart for tea parties! [held by little tike]
I have a first-world problem. My cellphone hates me. Twice in one phone call my cellphone sabotaged my call; first it processed my "answer" press as an "end call" press. Then it ran out of batteries as I was talking to my sweetie at an inopportune time. This is my cellphone's way of having its time of the month. I am charging it now and I hope it uses this time away from my pocket to think about what it's done. And then maybe I will forgive it.
Second, one of my favorite people in law school, a very sweet lady from Louisiana, brought an abacus to the bonfire hosted by another friend from school. I was like WHOA! and then, I was like, I don't know how to use that! Hahaha. My grandpa has an abacus that I've actually seen him do calculations on. Sadly I do not have that quintessentially Asian skill. I think I get it, but I've never actually used one. And using it for fractions and all that other stuff i've heard it's good for? Might as well give me a pair of maracas.
So what was friend from Louisiana doing with an abacus? She was bringing the abacus to the party to return it to a long-lost friend. So sweet. It looked like a kid's abacus. I've seen pros in medicine shops with their rosewood and ebony models; the TI versions. This one was scaled a little on the small side, the beads were painted bright crayon colors, and the base was a light, indeterminate wood. It was very cute. Anyway, I learned that if you bring something odd like an abacus to the party, you should come up with at least three plausible answers to the question: Why are you holding that in your hand? And then let people figure out why you really brought it.
I said to a friend earlier today that knitting was a skill I hoped to pick up before I got too old to enjoy it. I'm adding "use an abacus" to that list of skills.
Inspired by a post on dailymre, I am shocked (well not really) to see the results of my own time accounting.
It goes like this:
Class: 14 to 18 hours a week (depending on extra sessions or mandatory rhetoric workshops) Case briefing: 12 hours a week - wtf - I could be reducing this by so much Memo writing/editing: 15 hours a week Office hours with various professors: 2 hours a week Career Development / scholarship searches at law school: 2 hours a week - way too little
Other/Misc. Recreation/Gym Time: 3 hours a week Grocery shopping: 1 hour a week Laundry: 25 minutes a week Family time: 12 hours a week Socializing with people not my family: 5 hours a week (mebbe) Reading the news on the internet: honestly about 15+ hours a week at home
Sleeping: 42 hours a week
My resolutions for this week are to set a bedtime (11 PM), to go to the gym at least four times a week to get my granny energy levels up, and to schedule more time for career development.
Edit: So far I have upped my gym time, spent more time on forward-looking things, and yet no bedtime. Oh well. Still trying to win them all.
When last I checked in, I was looking forward to visiting my true wubs. We went to Miya Sushi in New Haven, which has a rather fantabulous menu that depends on the chef's mood. Major props for the decor and the amazing servers. It was just adorable all around. IF you like sustainable cuisine (they have a very cheeky "sustainable" section that includes such dangerous delicacies as lionfish) or just a very hip, aware, and gorgeous crowd, go.
Do not hesitate when you see that some rolls, including one with peanut butter, cost $18. The "sushi for the masses" section, with $3 rolls, is also fantastic. I had the spicy arctic char and it was the freshest $3 ever. Others liked cuter rolls, such as the squiggly wiggly (calamari) and sushi rolls with French, African, and Kosher influences. Le chaim. The results included goat, cheese sauce, brie, cassava, all manner of things being rolled up on rice and gobbled up faster than we could take photos. As I can never eat enough rice, it was heavenly.
If you go, PLEASE order the firecracker sake. It tastes like honey with a great spicy kick, with none of that burnt wax aftertaste that quality sake sometimes possesses. And if you order a bottle and can't finish it, they'll cork it and let you take it home. As a lightweight, I am often relieved to have someone take the alcohol off my hands, but I was a fan.
Would I go back? ABSOLUTELY. I will always have fond memories of Miya and now, I am going to try bottling my own chipotle-infused liquor. Five out of five noms for everything: decor, service, quality, having a founder who goes by Mama. Hell, six out of five noms for the amazingly comfy, sweet experience.
Well, this has been an oddly romantic week. Not just romantic in the hugs and kisses way, but one full of musings about the nature of Love with a capital L. I'm going to be all mushy, so if that's not your thing you should turn away and not read the following musings about the L word.
Someone once said that the it is only when we lose love that we know it to be true. I think it was a French guy who also wrote bawdy lyric poetry, and apparently did not fare so well with the ladies of his choice.
A very stirring Modern Love post that my true wubs and I have read and touched on suggests that love is a rather fleeting and anxiety-inducing conundrum. Heck a lot of Modern Love posts in the Times make me feel like crying. If you only realize it's love when it's past, why then it has always been too late, hasn't it? It's enough to make one suppress that loving feeling at all costs...
But I say - if you do know, do not let love go! What is the point of being in love with someone, if you never tell them, if you never leap into the ravine knowing you may not be caught, however unwise or embarrassing or devastating that might be? Is it better really to pine not knowing? A friend of mine who discussed this with me this week said most definitely it was better to remain silent - because if you love someone and you know they don't love you back, then you should respect that by never bringing it up.
I respect but cannot agree with silence as a solution to the "problem" of love. Perhaps I'm wrong but if I am, so what? Please disagree and let me know what you feel love is, as I know that everyone has their own version. Yes, love totally wrings your heart out when it doesn't work, like a flu for the entire psyche. But I don't think that love is God's way of playing cruel practical jokes on humanity. See: PMS and male pattern baldness. Love must work, somehow. And we see that love of family and friends works beautifully when we step back and let the big picture in; it's just that eros is so much more tangled because we know who our family is and we can choose our friends, but how do you know who your other half is? And how you should treat them?
To me, love is when you have a conversation with someone, and hearing their voice causes an echo in your chest, because you recognize that voice, and all its concerns, tones, and humor, in your heart of hearts and dream of dreams. It feels like you suddenly understand every mushy, ridiculous love song that you would otherwise feel too embarrassed to acknowledge to others. Love is the feeling of terror and certainty - like walking a tight rope - with the surest point ahead of you, and the certainty that whatever lies ahead on that rope is a million times more important than whatever distance lies beneath your feet. Being in love is the luckiest and most perilous feeling, because when you are most in love, you become suddenly less certain of who you are.
There are issues of personal control and authority, of sharing an emotional space that you haven't shared before, of letting someone else hurt you (without knowing, or possibly even caring, that they've wounded you deeply). Pride certainly gets in the way, as does fear that you are going clinical and a deep embarassment, almost shame, that your heart is running away with your head on a platter.
Actually, feeling madly in love feels a lot like going off the deep end: you're not yourself. Or perhaps you are more yourself than ever. Whatever it is, you can't really explain it to others who don't feel like their chest is exploding into a double rainbow and that you cannot ever really undo this saturation of every hue you behold, almost as if you are going blind or perceiving some hidden dimension. Wooo love is scary for many reasons. Some people like to base jump; maybe that's what it's like.
Watching the Young Victoria was glorious for all the reasons that period romances are glorious: amazing costumes, political intrigue, sexy accents, all of it. But what I love so much about the Young Victoria is that it doesn't just end at the wedding of the fiercely independent Victoria and her affecting Albert with his bumbling determination to woo her. (I was glad - I didn't want the movie to end!)
The film includes the post-honeymoon nudges and fights that strain and strengthen their relationship. The way that they interact and show their love for one another, from the truly delightful tete-a-tetes to the little gestures and extravagant kisses, just feels very true to me. The characters just don't or can't hold anything back from one another, and they hurt one another sometimes because of their respective personalities, but that is the kind of love that I have always wanted for myself. Viewers know that Victoria will one day lose her beloved spouse and don widow's weeds for the rest of her life, but at least this makes her royal marriage something worth remembering, albeit in a monochromatic fashion.
I just loved this film so much; i think it so perfectly captures the story of two very young people falling in love and learning to cherish one another. But I think that kind of love, where nothing is held back, knows no age. Although I will never be as young as that again, I think one's capacity for true love does not fade as one ages; it just deepens.
Since October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I would like to take a moment to share my love for my sisters!
I hope that you enjoy many, many autumns to come!
Today, one of my most outgoing professors emailed our class to inform us that his father passed away from cancer last night. :< Life is so precious. Thank you for making mine more memorable. You are wonderful!
So I tested out a new cookie mix today. The moral of the story is not to make cookies from a box mix. Especially if that box mix is Dunkin Hines Chocolate Chip Cookie Mix (Snack Size).
Honestly, Duncan Hines, I expected more. Tsk tsk.
The cookie mix was not leavened enough. I followed the directions and added the required ingredients (1 stick butter, 1 egg), but the cookies refused to poof in the oven. They spread, very much like lace cookies. While lace cookies are pretty, I have a very definite idea of what chocolate chip cookies should look like. They should not look like amoebas that have been smooshed and browned only at the edges. I have never seen this happen before to chocolate chip cookies . . .
The results were tasty enough ("they look like pancakes!" exclaimed roomies) but these are not cookies you would bring home to your parents.
So the weather here is hot, then cold, then hot again. The AC in my shared house works like nobody's business, so I am wearing a poofy buttercup-colored knit wrap as I type this. (thanks sweetie!). I actually really love this poncho/wrap thingy. If only we could all be so talented with knitting needles.
But this weather has brought with it not only adorable sweater-wearing times, but also sniffles. And congestion.
There is only one edible cure for the sniffles that I know of. That is to eat lots of ginger. But I am too lazy to peel, cut, and mash ginger whenever I need it. So I went out and bought a lump of fresh ginger and a sack of sugar. Instead of mashing up lots of ginger, I made a ginger-infused syrup. It was a heck of a lot easier than pie (who says that anyway?)
To make the syrup, all I used was a medium-sized sauce pan, 2.5 cups of water, 2.5 cups of white sugar, and a 2-inch stalk of ginger, washed and peeled. I have tried this with diced ginger - don't bother, it muddles the flavor. It's better to just peel it and stick it in whole.
Anyway, to make the syrup, I heated the water in the saucepan on medium high until it started to simmer. Then I poured in the sugar and stirred until all the sugar was fully dissolved. I lowered the heat to the lowest setting to avoid caramelizing the sugar. Then I tossed in the ginger and let the whole thing stew for another five minutes, watching it to make sure the sugar wasn't browning. I turned off the heat after five minutes and poured the whole thing (ginger and all) into a small, open container. Voila. some of the water evaporated during the process, but I still had about 2 cups of syrup. I made it a couple days ago and have been adding it to tea, porridge, soft tofu (for dofu hwa), and whatever else could use some sugar and spice.
If you sterilize the container, it will keep indefinitely in the fridge. I don't think my batch will last very long, though.
So... how do you feel about revolving online discounts?
I remember signing onto Groupon but I have never felt it fit a need in my life. It's a little outside my comfort zone to jump on an exploding online discount that expires in like, 2 hours, because there are few things that I really feel I need to drop hard cash on immediately.
But yesterday I saw an offer on Opentable Spotlight that looked pretty darn good.
For $25, I could order a gift certificate to one of my favorite restaurants in DC worth $50 in food; the certificate would be good for one year. I am certain I will eat there by one year from now and. And if I do eat there, I will want to order drinks.
The ordering process was pretty straightforward - if enough people sign on to the deal you are subscribing to by midnight of the deadline, you get an email confirming the deal with your e-certificate. You can print it out and present it, but if you make a reservation through opentable, the restaurant is notified electronically by opentable that you qualify for a discount.
Pretty neat.
The deal went through (yay!) Behold the power of the internet.
Feeling a little curious about other restaurant discounters in DC, stumbled on VillageVines DC, which operates on a slightly different model than OpenTable Spotlight. You register for free, but pay a $10 fee if you want to make a discounted reservation. When you make the reservation through VillageVines, you get 30% off your tab. It sounds like a neat concept. According to FuchsFoodie, VillageVines' DC offerings include Vidalia and some other places I can't recall off the top of my head. This week's Chicago deal is at aria... God I love their interior to bits. I wish I had a dining room like this, complete with my own sushi chef.
So today was a super long day. I'm glad it's tomorrow already.
I got to see my grandma and gramps today! Yay!
Today is Tuan Yuan Jie, or the Autumn Moon Festival, when family is supposed to get together. I called my sister in and she reported that she did indeed have mooncake at her disposal. My family is not big into mooncakes, BUT I will say that they are worth looking into if you haven't tried one before. Word, don't try to eat a whole baked mooncake at once. It's like eating fruitcake - small but very dense in every sense of the word. Even though a normal mooncake is about the size of a hockey puck, it's definitely meant to be cut up and shared.
I love the Autumn Moon Festival because it's like Chinese Thanksgiving. You sit down and eat things that are very harvesty with your folks. It's a day of reunion - when the lady on the moon gets to be close to her true love on earth. Don't ask me why she has to stay on the moon; that's just the way it is. The moon is, indeed, very big and beautiful today.
To let off some steam, I took a look at these earrings , which reminded me of some very nice, waxy, yellow flowers that I saw in Vietnam all over the place this summer.
A quick search of wiki reveals that plumeria is a fascinating plant. I really like botany; it's relaxing to me the way fishing is supposed to be. Ahhh...plants....
Last night was a very memorable, celebratory dinner.
I had a wonderful evening talking about life, career aspirations, and just "being" with a girlfriend who recently returned from a stint overseas. We talked about being between of two paths: the idealistic, humanitarian way; and the realistic, self-centered way. There is nothing like good conversation to lend color to life. The noise level was low but not too low, so we were able to talk easily.
We ate at Bistrot du Coin in Dupont. I was happy to see that the dinner menu offers two sizes of plates for dinner: small and large. I opted for the gratin Bretonne in the small size, feeling a little sluggish. What arrived amidst wafts of cheese vapors was a small, flat terrine holding a thick, crisp top of cheese and mushroom cream, containing underneath some mild-tasting shrimp, and rather toothsome teeny squares of pasta. The pasta was so finely cut that it nearly melted into the sauce. No firm bites here, but very good and gooey. The taste was more about cheese, and less about salt, which was nice. Truly my arteries have never been more at odds with my happy mouth. My friend had the duck medium rare, and she said it was excellent.
The "small" came in a charming little terrine that was about 7" X 3" X 1" - which was still equivalent to about a half-pound of cheese and butter. At about $11, I'd say it's a fair value. Certainly more refined than mac and cheese, though just as comforting.
After dinner, I considered an espresso immediately, but decided instead on the chocolat liegois. I was delighted to find that this little goblet of chocolate ice cream, caramel fudge, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce, was something special. The ice cream itself was as it should be.
The star of the show at BdC's sundae is the whipped cream. The heft is incredible, because the stuff is whipped by hand. The end product is something that actually has weight and no pockets of air whatsoever. Comparing it to the canned version is like comparing bolt satin to lace - both are nice, but one is certainly smoother and heavier than the other. It tasted very mild, as if it was missing some other flavor. I realize that the taste that was "missing" was the slightly magic marker-ish aroma of propellant. Others reviewers of Bistrot du Coin have commented on how amazing it is that this place does whipped cream by hand. It might not seem like a big deal, but after having tried it, I see what all the fuss was about. So that was neat.
On a Sunday night, the place was far less crowded than I've found it on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings past. The service was fantastic - our server was very professional and attentive. As usual, the meal was one of delightful surprises. It was well worth the trip and worth every penny. This place is worth five noms out of five across the board.
I didn't think that perfect could be applied to any piece of candy. Sure, I love the colors. I love the goofy characters that decorate most candy packages. I love the shine of the foil. And I love sugar rushes (particularly after a good run.... I know, it defeats the purpose of exercise). I'm a snob about a lot, but not about candy. I like candy corn and black licorice, for pete's sake. Truly, I've never met a candy that I didn't like.
But today, I was shopping for bread and became pretty smitten by a chocolate bar at the grocery register. This was something neat! I stopped loading groceries to add this baby to the mix. For one thing, it was exactly the right size. It wasn't too small, but it certainly wasn't too big. It reminded me of the free little tablets of chocolate that that would accompany my coffee when I was in France. There it was, humbly sitting next to the milky ways, priced at a very un-European $0.79.
And so now I'm proclaiming my adoration for the petite Lindt Excellence Intense Dark (70%) chocolate bar to the world. It is 1.2 ounces of perfection. I love it because it's just the right size for what it is. As much as I enjoy really, really dark chocolate, anything above 50% cacao content is best in smaller doses. Dark chocolate makes me feel like I've drunk a full cup of coffee. The typical Lindt excellence bar is about 3.5 ounces, which I've always thought was a bit much. The petite bar is like a single espresso. It's the perfect end to a long week.
Apparently, the Lindt website doesn't advertise the 1.2 ounce bars (just the full-size ones). If I find some link love, I will add it here. Iunno if I will be buying many more (I'm still feeling a little wired), but I'm glad that I stumbled upon it. I have a feeling I will be revisiting this AFTER finals are done and I'm totally wiped out... that is, if I'm not hibernating.
So a friend of mine is having a birthday soon and she is deciding between two birthday spots: Rays the Steaks and Bistrot du Coin. Rays is in Arlington,VA and Bistrot du Coin is in Dupont Circle in Washington, D.C.
Let us consider some factors essential to a birthday celebration.
Seating: Ray's wins this one. Although Bistrot du Coin squishes patrons capably into back-to-back tables (oh so French, and so professionally maneuvered by the waiters who are not there to be your friends, ah), Ray's goes for a more casual white-tablecloth experience, where you wait and then are seated with ample space for your chair.
Cost: This is a hard one because both of them offer superb food and value for the money. Bistrot du Coin does amazing things with duck, steak, fries, mussels, potatoes, and cheese. If you're feeling peckish, the small plates of salads, gratins, and a wonderous assortment of meats hover around $8 and will send you into butter coma before you can say "L'addition, s'il vous plait." The house steak and frites is less than $17, making it slightly cheaper than the offerings at Ray's. So on an absolute basis, Bistrot du Coin is cheaper by a few dollars generally.
HOWEVER, Ray's steaks are aged to perfection and, for what they are, are just astonishingly under-priced. A hangar steak is $17; few cuts are priced above $20. I would say that the quality of meat at Ray's is equivalent to what you'd find at a much pricier steakhouse. I have never sensed that meat had a "bouquet" until dining here. So there. Cost is not really a good point of comparison between these two gems.
Variety: Bistrot du Coin wins this one. By variety, I mean friendliness to vegetarians. Ray's is a steak house, with no need for apologies. There are concessions in the form of a salmon dish or two and shrimp offerings. Vegans need not apply. On the other hand, it is possible to accommodate vegetarians at Bistrot du Coin, but not vegans. In a proper Parisian kitchen there is no substitute for butter.
This attempt comparison has led me to conclude that both are worth eating at, and frequently if one's cholesterol will allow. That's why I'm going with my friend to whichever restaurant she DOESN'T go to for her birthday. Because sometimes you should have your cake and eat it, too.
So those of you who follow U Street blogs (and you should, if you live near D.C.) know that the area is chock-a-block with good eats. One of the places that I wanted to try very much was Tabaq. They have a great happy hour on weekdays from 10 PM - 1 AM, which is pretty darn fantastic for nightowls like your's truly.
Small plates are 30% off at this rather impressive happy hour, so a plate of hummus will set you back at 3 dollars and change. Not bad. The larger plates, like chicken or lamb kebabs, or the beef kofteh, will go for around $6 each. Signature martinis run from $3 to $7. Score!! The plates are indeed small but the flavors are strong and the food is dense. Two of us ordered about five plates: a walnut dip, fried shrimp (too shrimpy), fried calamari (steller and greaseless), beef kofteh (very strong pine nut flavor - I loved it since it tastes a little like Christmas, my dining partner didn't), oysters, a lamb kebab, and an apple martini to share. Everything was tasty; the fried items in particular were fried well in fresh oil. The drinks are very to the point, and the bartenders (female) are cute, for what it's worth. This is not a place for throwing them back, but for enjoying a breezy drink or two and feeling ironic about life among generally good-looking people.
The decor is very chill, with high plush banquettes and plenty of seating for large groups. A huge flatscreen plays B movies without audio. What we heard was billboard top 20 rap. A former coworker of mine pretty much loved Tabaq not just for its outre vibe, but for the clusters of cute French Embassy workers who would frequent the place. Personally, I saw a couple Hill-type suits, but no suave Frenchies. I was with the cutest guy in the room, as usual.
Our server was gracious enough to wait a few minutes before placing our order, so we could get oysters for $1. So it's possible to get dollar oysters at a place that isn't Hank's Oyster Bar. Are they worth it? The sauce (traditional garlic/tomato/vinegar combo) is great, just as it should be. The oysters themselves are fresh and bracing. However, the ones I got were a little too natural for me. There's nothing like a little sand to ruin the glow. I know that you can clean live scallops by sprinkling them with cornmeal, which causes the scallops to expel whatever's inside them (thanks, dad) ... I wonder if one could do the same with oysters... however this only affected one or two of the oysters. For $1 each, which is a third of what I pay per oyster at my favorite oyster place, Old Ebbitt Grill, I can live with hiccups.
Speaking of oysters, if you have not seen the series Alice on Syfy, I highly recommend it. It's a great show and I will never look at an oyster the same way again after watching it with my southern belle. It's amazing.
Tangent aside, would I go back to Tabaq? I think I would go back to try some of their other dishes. This place tends to send out dense plates fast, so I have a hunch that their fries and mussels are worth exploring. I think it's a solid bet for late night dining on U Street, especially if you want something with more flavor and less heft.
I'm all settled in a group house closer to campus. For now, I'm just a 10 to 15-minute walk to school. Yay! My cuteoverload calendar, chirping stuffed quail, and other treasures have found a very sunny, extremely well-air-conditioned place to call home.
The housemates are lovely and laid-back. I like chatting with them. So I'm happy as far as that goes.
The funny thing is, after eagerly looking forward to having my own place, I kinda miss home. No worries; I am returning to the homestead on the weekends to check up on the littlest one. It's not like I'm far away. I'll still be picking up mail at the permanent address weekly.
One thing that I appreciate very much is the increase in sleep that my new digs afford. I can wake up 20 minutes before class Mondays. Win!
So I've been asked, "How was Boston?" It was capital.
My little brother tried to explain to me what it is exactly that he does at work. He gave me and the family a little tour of his campus. But we didn't come to see school! No sir! We went to abduct my bro from his little lab job and do touristy things!
I love Boston. The weather cooperated beautifully, revealing all of its Federal/Colonial beauty for us tourists. I love the Smoots on the bridge. I love the sight of people in sailboats on the Charles, bobbing in a giant bathtub.
I also love the libraries. Besides boasting a seemingly endless room of books, The Boston Public Library contains a courtyard complete with fountain, attractive French women, and lots of little birds eager to pounce on your coffee cake. On the walls, you'll find earthy murals dedicated to the muses, who are all draped and stately. The execution of the murals reminds me so much of the lovely art deco murals dedicated to knowledge at my alma mater; I wonder if they were painted by the same artist? But this is a more outright pretty setting; no gargoyles. The library doesn't just have books; it sponsors music performances and has a GREAT FANTASTIC exhibit on vintage travel posters. The colors and forms are so intense and glamorous. It totally made me want to go around the world again in a steamliner. Forget that in that time, it took days to cross the Panama Canal. I was thinking about wall art to decorate the very pronounced, almost tropical teal walls that I'd painted recently; what else would be better? I loved them. I couldn't find the exact posters displayed in the exhibit, but many online galleries have similar examples for two of my fave promos: the Chicago Columbia Exposition and the New Haven railroad. I wish there was a book on the exhibition that I could keep; it was the coolness.
At the supercool John Adams House, which costs only $10 for my gigantic family (students may visit for free) including a shuttle from the historical visitor's center, to the Adams' original house, to the Big house, I was THRILLED to learn that the Adamses (John and Q.) had a separate room from the largest family house just to house their book collection. Luca Turin once said that the aging lignin of old books eventually smells like good vanilla, a serendipitous phenomenon that can only explained by some cosmic sense of humor. He might be right; inside the Adams library, it smells strongly of old leather and something else. My siblings said it first, "fig Newtons". It's a family collection; there are tons of maps and atlases reflecting the family's diplomatic line, but some quirky philosophical selections, like Karl Marx's Das Kapital on the shelf; maybe it belonged to a later Adams? Going inside, being surrounded by books stacked two rows deep in a little house designed for that purpose, is a dream come true for any bookworm. Surrounding the library is a kinda freely-structured garden composed of pincushion flowers, bleeding hearts, and several varieties of dahlia big and small growing in happy little jumbles around a square. My mom got a real kick out of the garden, but she's more into structure.
After that, it was off to Harvard! It is a sweet place in my memory, literally. My family and I spent some quality time at L.A. Burdick, fine purveyor of chocolate mice and penguins. My sisters and I poked around the highly-successful thrift store Second Time Around. For the little one's 16th, we went to Sweet, a local cupcake place. For a little over $12, I got four cupcakes for her to pick from: red velvet, carrot cake, pina colada (sweet vanilla bean cake, with a shot of pineapple preserves and topped with coconut infused buttercream frosting. Comes with its own umbrella), and cappucino. Littlest one just really wanted the cupcake box, which said "Sweet" in curly script. She added "16" after the "Sweet." There were many great eats in Boston. The Autumn moon festival happened to fall during the time we were there, and we watched a lion dance in Boston's Chinatown. They had an impressive 15-person dragon. We went to Peach Farm for the amazing Hong-Kong style roast duck. My dad was pretty happy with it. :)
Before we left, we all had to stop by Mike's pastry in little Italy during the annual Fisherman's Feast. Follow the many people you'll see with "Mike's" boxes in their hands. The line is worth it. They serve cannoli that is touched by angels: deep-fried yet completely greaseless. The ganache is tempered perfectly. Iunno how they do it, but I'm so glad that they do.
Aside from the food, I loved the quaint little streets and the many, many students. And the lack of snow. :)
Part of going back to school means dealing with actual, external expectations and my own expectations of my own performance. When it comes to school, I have hung somewhere between two schools of thought: study what makes you tick, and what does not kill you makes you stronger. But law school is something new altogether. People are really chill and, although stressed a bit, everyone seems nice. Law school is just another phase. No pendulums.
In college, I learned the importance of looking up citations and just generally being on my game. After four hours of prep on my first outline (admittedly a little too much for just 10 pages) I felt comfortable with the materials, at least enough to be cold called. The people in my class vary hugely in terms of preparation and time.
Looking at others being cold-called, I thought, I guess I didn't over-prepare after all. To my surprise I was called upon by the professor who did not ask me to restate the facts, but to outline the consequences implied by the facts that I had not considered before class (nor actually, were these consequences ever explicitly stated in the opinion). Time to infer based on what we know and what the text won't say outright! Game on!
So why isn't this a malpractice case? He asked me. Deer in headlights. My immediate reaction was emotional but I scratch that. So I think about the definition of malpractice and why on earth this doesn't qualify as a malpractice case... the pieces are there. I know why this is one type of case but not sure why it's NOT another.
Not knowing what to say, I am silent for a few seconds that seem to stretch a while. I'm sure I looked petrified.
The professor seemed about to ask someone else, but then he threw me a bone. It's a procedural matter, says professor. I quickly review the motions in my head. Lightbulb goes on. Because the charge of negligence was dropped, I reply with audible relief, as though I had lifted something heavy. Okay great. Then he asks - Do you see an ethical dilemna with this case? Having read the background I say yes, the insurer is a party in the case so there is possibly some conflict of interest. He asks me whether the insurer's interest and the defendant's interests are aligned. I give my first qualified answer; initially the interests are aligned in that both parties wish to reduce damages. Based on my answer, which he sees is predicated on a specific criteria, he proceeds to draw a chart. "I've never drawn this chart before," he says, and it is full of smiley faces and frowny faces. Charts FTW. Honestly I should just give more straightforward answers. I try to offer a tangent from the case about jury rules that I think supports the professor's point about conflict of interest, which the professor gamely explains (and I'm sure some classmates were like WTF what is she talking about; get back to the case), but he notes finally that it's mostly speculation.
Then I fumbled and lost sight of the the forest for the trees when later, he asked me, What is the generally used contract interest? This is a definitive concept to contracts which endows, as he will later say, the power of contracts. And I forgot and fudge an answer that is really wrong; basically I said the equivalent of "gravity pulls things up". Nevermind that the correct answer is in the FIRST LINE OF MY NOTES. Oy. Oh well; next time I won't be so lazy as to ignore my notes when I think I have a section down. Especially in the morning.
The last station on the Asia express line was Hong Kong.
Sunday afternoons in Hong Kong mean walking through covered subway overpasses filled with people just sitting around. These campers, who line their "spots" with cleverly folded cardboard boxes, blankets, and vinyl tarp, are almost entirely female, youngish, sturdy, and speak many languages besides the standard Cantonese. I think they make up the army of domestic workers in Hong Kong island who get Sunday off.
Hong Kong, with its impeccable English signage, open vibe, and plethora of dining options, is primarily a working person's city. I met with a friend in investment banking and another friend working with some bureau. Both put in long hours to maintain a decent standard of living in a city that is, shall we say, very space efficient.
My MO was to ride the ferry a bunch (yay ferries!) and eat dimsum. The mission was entirely successful.
TimeOut Hong Kong pointed me to a great corner dimsum place near our hotel in Mongkok, a little whiles away from the hustle and bustle of Nathan Road. And so it was that I decisively ordered the pork buns at Tim Ho Wan, after reading about them in a very fine TO article that described these buns as something special. If you are in Mongkok, I urge you to try it out. Don't worry about the line; it moves faster than it looks.
Wow, these were not like any other pork buns. But they were very familiar nonetheless. Instead of fluffy yeast bread, this "bun" was a shortening and buttermilk biscuit. With pork inside. And a sugar topping. It was at once Dixie and Cantonese. I don't speak with the drawl, but growing up with real biscuits and gravy is a privilege; so is cutting one's teeth on char siu. I told my partner in crime that I would never, ever eat a pork bun that was as good. It was a perfect reconciliation of my love for Southern food and my love of dimsum. And the next time I make buttermilk biscuits, I see no reason why I shouldn't also throw in some cantonese bbq pork. Such a combo makes me happy to be alive.
If Chinese culture and American culture were circles of a Venn Diagram, I think "country: banjos, mountain people, fallen confederations" would be in the intersecting section of both. Having biscuits in China made me recall the first time I met a friend's dad, who is very proud to be Chinese. I asked him who his favorite musician is, expecting to hear of a Shanghainese or maybe a mainland singer. He said, with no irony, John Denver. It's a small world.
My second to last stop on my epic trip to Asia, which ended about a week ago, was Shanghai.
I wanted to see the "real" Shanghai, but the reality is not too exciting. So my first night on the Bund was spent at a chilly but efficient western-style coffee shop (Costa Coffee). As part of a chain, it was open until midnight. Everything else around was closed, and I didn't feel like going to a luxe hotel bar.
The very well-marked "old Shanghai". such as Hu Xing Tian tea house, in the historic yu yuan gardens, is charming. At Hu Xing Tian, where many take photos but few actually sit down, the entire interior is hardwood engraving and lacquerware. Once situated, I felt very much like someone in a Ming-era soap opera. I would have awesome hair coils and my scholarly escort would have a beard and a hat, not unlike some of the tea house's past patrons. Anyway, Eddie and I were both feeling a bit worn from jostling with the tourists and figuring out what to do next in the hustle-bustle. I thought some tea, however dear, would cheer us both up. The view was awesome!
Eddie ordered some green tea, which was a good choice for the weather. I chose the osmanthus longqian tea (62 RMB per cup), and felt vindicated when a cadre of visitors from Xi'An sat down at the table next to ours and ordered the same. I don't think I encountered any osmanthus flowers in Asia; at least if I did, I didn't recognize them. But I hear they smell like apricots. The resulting tea was worth every fen. The gardens themselves are well-kept. On the roofs of the enclosing walls and various pavillions, there are dynamic statues of archers, footsoldiers, and cavalry poised in attack or on the move.
Next to the koi ponds, full of very old fish, stood a giant statue of Hai Bao ("Sea Treasure") the friendly blue blob mascot of the Shanghai World Expo. There's a big emphasis on green and sustainable design for this year's Expo. Hai Bao is all-natural sea treasure.
Having read about the epic waits at the World Expo, I bought a small plastic stool that folds up in the huge market outside the gardens. It was a decent investment, I think.
The World Expo, I think we all agreed, was like a very informative version of Disneyworld. Long lines. Engaging posters and carefully suggested environments. A little passport that each guest can stamp at various cities and countries. Nearly all of the tourists I saw were Chinese. The World Expo 2010 is the first in which all of Africa's countries have participated at once. It is also the first World Expo I've attended. My group decided that we'd see as many pavillions as we could, rather than waiting four to six hours for the most popular pavillions.
The most impressive one I saw was Spain's. Having visited all of Spain's city cases (small rooms devoted to one city) on the other side of the river, I was able to fast-track it into the Spanish national pavillion. The outside was covered in some sort of wicker.
There was a live flamenco dancer (whose routine mercifully included lying down as though asleep) and some truly fantabulous movie montages on the inside. The films were like moving slideshows of photos of Spanish culture, from the 1800's onwards, sometimes overlaid with caricatures a la Monty Python. There was very little text; in fact besides brief blurbs on very broad versions of history or trade information, most cases and pavillions I saw were designed to give a general impression of the culture of a place. The general impression I took away from Spain's pavillion were: they have excellent fish, bulls, soccer, and cinematography. That sounds about right.
Indonesia's pavillion was also excellent, air-conditioned, and allowed for good traffic flow. There comes a point during the Expo where one considers line movement to be extremely important. There was a live band outside who sang with the verve of a mariachi band. The crowd loved it.
The Cambodian Pavillion was pretty cool and had scaled-down replicas of Cambodia's most famous temples.
Vietnam's very engaging pavillion proved that it's possible to construct flying buttresses out of bamboo. The look great. And puppets + knee-deep water = water puppet show.
Mongolia's pavillion included some pretty neat dinosaur fossils (small dinos, and eggs) and, of course, a statue of Jeffrey Goldblum being attacked by a dinosaur. JK I mean Genghis Khan. But in all honesty I was disappointed by the lack of info on gerbils, the friendliest animal you will ever encounter in the Gobi desert.
China's Pavillion is huuuuuuge. No picture can adequately describe how massive it is. It's going to hang around well after the Expo (along with, perhaps, Saudi Arabia's giant 4-D screen). Iunno.. is it kosher for one country to "gift" a pavillion to another?
The African Joint Pavillion worked well, although the quality of the individual country cases varied a lot.
Great Britain's pavillion was very fuzzy, thanks to the thousands of little things that covered it like a giant metal pincushion. Latvia's was imho the most pretty (it was covered in a swirl of sparkly shimmering glass). Morocco's looked like an actual palace, complete with moat and lily pond.
It was pretty cool to see so many parts of the world from one place.
