Thursday, January 15, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
No seriously, tell me what you really think.
Classes started up again today. This plant is in the genus Arabidopsis. My plant physiology professor referred to it as a "stupid little plant." Excellent. I hope he's that blunt with his comments on my exams.
He also teaches Child Development 101.
Not really.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Waves! Shrimp!
Last week we escaped from Honolulu (a very rare occurrence), rented a car, and drove up to the North Shore where, by coincidence, the best surf of the winter so far was waiting for us. And no, I didn't get in the water, on account of I didn't want to die that day. Here's some video from Pipeline.
Down the beach a little farther, the O'Neill Men's World Cup was happening. It was cool and all, with the 20-foot waves and obviously very athletic surfer-dude-brahs. Four guys at a time paddle out for a 30-minute session and try to rack up the highest score they can, while trying not to get pummeled too badly. Because of the obviously challenging conditions, some guys might catch only one or two waves during their whole session, so there's a lot of waiting and watching involved. The scoring system was a little bit lame to me. A high score seems to depend on how many times you can cut back and forth from the crest to the trough of the wave (typically about three times before the wave closes out). Then you get extra points if the wave barrels over you and you get to ride inside it for a while. My problem was that getting the highest score wasn't necessarily about the most skillful or risky riding, it was only about waiting for the type of wave that would let you get a few good turns in before you could bail out. I thought there was a lot more potential for the guys to show off their style and their skills. Instead, every ride looked pretty much the same, and it got kinda boring after a few minutes.
For a delicious lunch, we went in search of the shrimp truck. This was something we'd been hearing about for a while, and it was totally shrimp-tastic! We got what everyone gets, the shrimp scampi. And no, it has nothing to do with pasta. It's a plate of twelve shrimp, in their tasty shells, smothered in garlicky butter, with a couple of scoops of white rice. And a cold beer. For good luck I got a little of the burn-your-face-off hot sauce on the side. I can't tell you how satisfying that was, after a long, difficult morning of beach-bumming.
Down the beach a little farther, the O'Neill Men's World Cup was happening. It was cool and all, with the 20-foot waves and obviously very athletic surfer-dude-brahs. Four guys at a time paddle out for a 30-minute session and try to rack up the highest score they can, while trying not to get pummeled too badly. Because of the obviously challenging conditions, some guys might catch only one or two waves during their whole session, so there's a lot of waiting and watching involved. The scoring system was a little bit lame to me. A high score seems to depend on how many times you can cut back and forth from the crest to the trough of the wave (typically about three times before the wave closes out). Then you get extra points if the wave barrels over you and you get to ride inside it for a while. My problem was that getting the highest score wasn't necessarily about the most skillful or risky riding, it was only about waiting for the type of wave that would let you get a few good turns in before you could bail out. I thought there was a lot more potential for the guys to show off their style and their skills. Instead, every ride looked pretty much the same, and it got kinda boring after a few minutes.
For a delicious lunch, we went in search of the shrimp truck. This was something we'd been hearing about for a while, and it was totally shrimp-tastic! We got what everyone gets, the shrimp scampi. And no, it has nothing to do with pasta. It's a plate of twelve shrimp, in their tasty shells, smothered in garlicky butter, with a couple of scoops of white rice. And a cold beer. For good luck I got a little of the burn-your-face-off hot sauce on the side. I can't tell you how satisfying that was, after a long, difficult morning of beach-bumming.
Friday, October 17, 2008
If you see her, say hello...
The wifie is off in California (lucky!), leaving me stranded on this crazy island (yes, the very same island where they make "Lost") which can mean only one thing.
It's time for a Godfather marathon!
(I've never watched all 3 back-to-back, and this weekend, I think that's the ticket.)
"I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart!"
Oh, and if you do see her, tell her I'm working very hard and the research proposal is going really well.
It's time for a Godfather marathon!
(I've never watched all 3 back-to-back, and this weekend, I think that's the ticket.)
"I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart!"
Oh, and if you do see her, tell her I'm working very hard and the research proposal is going really well.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
(The next day....)
Okay, I know I totally left that hanging. But after slurping up all that pig-feet goodness it got so late, and.....I'll just recap.
First, you have to understand, pig's feet, it turns out, have very little.....what do you say.....meat? on them. Mostly there's bones, and in between the bones is this weird, sticky, gelatinous connective tissue that turns progressively softer the more you cook them. Then, the whole thing is wrapped up in skin. I only had about 3 and a half hours. Based on what I've read, if I had let them go a couple of hours more, they would have been a more ideal consistency for consumption. Nonetheless, I'd say we thoroughly enjoyed them. Even with the very strange, gluey texture (like nothing I've ever eaten), the flavor was soooooo good. The onions and garlic and white wine worked wonders.
What would I....no will I do different next time? Cook them a couple more hours, that's about it. I'll bet when they're completely falling off the bone they'll be perfect. Oh, and next time I think I'll try getting some bigger ones, with more of the "shank" or "forearm" part attached (more meat). Va bene! I'ma drooling already!
First, you have to understand, pig's feet, it turns out, have very little.....what do you say.....meat? on them. Mostly there's bones, and in between the bones is this weird, sticky, gelatinous connective tissue that turns progressively softer the more you cook them. Then, the whole thing is wrapped up in skin. I only had about 3 and a half hours. Based on what I've read, if I had let them go a couple of hours more, they would have been a more ideal consistency for consumption. Nonetheless, I'd say we thoroughly enjoyed them. Even with the very strange, gluey texture (like nothing I've ever eaten), the flavor was soooooo good. The onions and garlic and white wine worked wonders.
What would I....no will I do different next time? Cook them a couple more hours, that's about it. I'll bet when they're completely falling off the bone they'll be perfect. Oh, and next time I think I'll try getting some bigger ones, with more of the "shank" or "forearm" part attached (more meat). Va bene! I'ma drooling already!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
This little piggie...
Since moving here, we've been making a conscious effort to live cheap. That means not exploring all the restaurants in our neighborhood quite as fast as we might want. We don't spend as much as we used to on alcohol. For now, it seems kind of adventurous, even fun, a little bit of a game.
I have to admit shopping for groceries in Chinatown usually makes me giddy, partly because that's where things tend to be cheapest around here. But mostly, it always brings to mind some of those juicy foodie books I've read, (Kitchen Confidential and Heat) and shows like "Iron Chef" and "No Reservations." The grosser and more exotic the food, the better. Sunday afternoons, chances are Kendra and I will find ourselves wandering through Chinatown looking for animal parts we've never seen before, exploring all the nooks and crannies of the haphazardly laid out fish markets and trying desperately to interpret the dirty handwritten signs propped up in front of piles of, say, chicken feet or crazy-looking spiny fruit. I'm shamelessly okay with stopping and staring, or pointing and asking "what is this?" or "how much?" My challenge is usually trying to find cheap sources of protein. Fortunately for me, Kendra is pretty much okay with letting me get anything (at least once). A few weeks ago it was some nummy chicken gizzards. One of these days I'm going to get a huge beef tongue and pickle it. But this past Sunday I settled on pig's feet. I found a nice market way in the back that had them in frozen form, and they kindly offered to cut them down the middle for me with their giant meat saw. The best part: two hefty piggy trotters set us back less than 4 bucks.
I was so excited about cooking them I decided to discuss it here. I'll probably even post pictures. I know it sounds completely lame and kinda geeky, but this is something I've been wanting to cook for a long time.
Mind you, I don't have any idea of the results right now. In fact, those happy feet have only been in the oven a short while. There's certainly no guarantee this will turn out the way I imagine....succulent, crispy, mouth-watering pig flesh falling off those pig knuckles. Not all my culinary adventures end well. Yeah, just ask Jeremy about a certain "fried calamari" escapade.
Well here goes. I've settled for a simple, slow braise (should take about three hours). I've tossed the feet in a pot with onions, celery, about 20 cloves of garlic, a little water, some salt, a few glugs of white wine, and put the pot in a modestly hot oven. Let the magic begin.
(Hour and a half later...)
The smells are simply amazing. All that onion and garlic are so aromatic, almost overpowering. I can't even tell how much the pork is contributing to this aroma, but I'm not complaining. The feet themselves are becoming brown, moist, shrunken, softer versions of themselves, but in a good way. There appears to be a good deal of fat just underlying the skin, and I think it's slowly beginning to render out. I predict all this fatty goodness, plus a high bone-to-meat ratio will lend these feet a whole bunch of flavor.
(Hour later...)
By now the sweet-savory pork smells are positively intoxicating. I turned the oven up to 350. A nice dark brown color is starting to develop on the pork skin, and the braising liquid has reduced to almost nothing, so I added a bit more water. Shouldn't be long now....
I have to admit shopping for groceries in Chinatown usually makes me giddy, partly because that's where things tend to be cheapest around here. But mostly, it always brings to mind some of those juicy foodie books I've read, (Kitchen Confidential and Heat) and shows like "Iron Chef" and "No Reservations." The grosser and more exotic the food, the better. Sunday afternoons, chances are Kendra and I will find ourselves wandering through Chinatown looking for animal parts we've never seen before, exploring all the nooks and crannies of the haphazardly laid out fish markets and trying desperately to interpret the dirty handwritten signs propped up in front of piles of, say, chicken feet or crazy-looking spiny fruit. I'm shamelessly okay with stopping and staring, or pointing and asking "what is this?" or "how much?" My challenge is usually trying to find cheap sources of protein. Fortunately for me, Kendra is pretty much okay with letting me get anything (at least once). A few weeks ago it was some nummy chicken gizzards. One of these days I'm going to get a huge beef tongue and pickle it. But this past Sunday I settled on pig's feet. I found a nice market way in the back that had them in frozen form, and they kindly offered to cut them down the middle for me with their giant meat saw. The best part: two hefty piggy trotters set us back less than 4 bucks.
I was so excited about cooking them I decided to discuss it here. I'll probably even post pictures. I know it sounds completely lame and kinda geeky, but this is something I've been wanting to cook for a long time.
Mind you, I don't have any idea of the results right now. In fact, those happy feet have only been in the oven a short while. There's certainly no guarantee this will turn out the way I imagine....succulent, crispy, mouth-watering pig flesh falling off those pig knuckles. Not all my culinary adventures end well. Yeah, just ask Jeremy about a certain "fried calamari" escapade.
Well here goes. I've settled for a simple, slow braise (should take about three hours). I've tossed the feet in a pot with onions, celery, about 20 cloves of garlic, a little water, some salt, a few glugs of white wine, and put the pot in a modestly hot oven. Let the magic begin.
(Hour and a half later...)
The smells are simply amazing. All that onion and garlic are so aromatic, almost overpowering. I can't even tell how much the pork is contributing to this aroma, but I'm not complaining. The feet themselves are becoming brown, moist, shrunken, softer versions of themselves, but in a good way. There appears to be a good deal of fat just underlying the skin, and I think it's slowly beginning to render out. I predict all this fatty goodness, plus a high bone-to-meat ratio will lend these feet a whole bunch of flavor.
(Hour later...)
By now the sweet-savory pork smells are positively intoxicating. I turned the oven up to 350. A nice dark brown color is starting to develop on the pork skin, and the braising liquid has reduced to almost nothing, so I added a bit more water. Shouldn't be long now....
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