1. Most surprising pleasant thing:
I have a hard time picking just one--there have been quite a few, as I think about it. I'd say the two top ones are (a) how quickly I found a job, such that I didn't have to implement any of the backup plans at all and (b) how much I'm enjoying baking and cooking again. I applied for the new job on January 3rd and started on February 19th--long before I had to start thinking about what-ifs or start to panic. And the baking and cooking, well, it's interesting how the changes in my life have affected that, but it's a longer post.
Most surprising unpleasant thing:
I really don't have all that many unpleasant things, and even fewer surprising ones. I'd say the most surprising one is the collection of minor bodily complaints that have plagued me off and on this year--the persistent SI pain; the apparent inability to drop some weight; the dragging-on of menopause; and, to be completely trivial, the greying of my hair, which has accelerated such that I'm now about 2/3 grey. None of these is particularly serious, I should add, or even all that unpleasant.
2. New foods? Got rid of foods?
I've had way more beets and kale this year than ever before--I've probably had more beets in the past six months than in the last six years put together. I've experimented with more grains, too, but I've been doing that pretty steadily for about 15 years.
I haven't really gotten rid of baked goods, but I'm eating way less of them than when I worked at the bakery. I miss the bread, though, and have decided that needs to get back into the mix.
3. Risks:
I suppose it was a risk to quit the bakery job before having anything else full-time lined up, but that didn't feel all THAT risky. As y'all know, because you were able to read my minute-by-minute account, I planned it and strategized it to within an inch of its life, and the bakery clearly had become untenable, so leaving didn't feel any riskier than staying. And I'd say it has worked out.
4. Performance?
Hmmm. I saw so much--open-wheel racing; baseball; hockey; music--it's hard to pick just one. So, let's see, I'll say Dweezil Zappa at a teensy venue and Mickey Hart at a street fair.
5. Habits:
Exercise. That's been the biggest change in habits, and I'm still not entirely happy with where I am with it. I waffled from joining a park district gym to walking to nothing, until I bought the rowing machine, and that has been extremely helpful. As noted, I'm not working out as much as I'd like, but I'm getting better. I miss yoga quite a big, but I seem to do absolutely nothing to get it back into my life. And I still miss handball. I guess the short version is that, now that I no longer play a sport, I'm trying to figure out how will I get exercise in ways that are reliable, that I'll actually do, that are sufficient, and that I actually enjoy. Partly it's that I played handball for about 15 years, so it was a pretty firmly entrenched habit, and I didn't have to think about it much, just go do it; I added yoga into the mix about halfway through, and that fit in with my living situation and so on, and, again, didn't require thinking. I've had to rethink everything, plus I'm older, plus I live in a different section of the city.
Meanwhile, kstyle's answers.
and Ann's.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Year-End Questions
If you answer on your blog, I'll post links here.
1. What was the most surprising pleasant thing that happened to you this year? What was the most surprising unpleasant thing?
2. What food(s) did you start eating this year that you haven't eaten much before? Did you stop eating something, or dramatically reduce your intake? Why?
3. What risks did you take? How did they work out?
4. What performance (music, dance, movie, theater, etc.) did you most enjoy this year? (If you were doing the performing, then which did you most enjoy doing, and which did you most enjoy experiencing?)
5. What habits are you trying to change? What's encouraging, motivating, and/or inhibiting you in your efforts? Did you add any new habits that feel like they're becoming part of you? Did you drop any that you'd like to resume?
1. What was the most surprising pleasant thing that happened to you this year? What was the most surprising unpleasant thing?
2. What food(s) did you start eating this year that you haven't eaten much before? Did you stop eating something, or dramatically reduce your intake? Why?
3. What risks did you take? How did they work out?
4. What performance (music, dance, movie, theater, etc.) did you most enjoy this year? (If you were doing the performing, then which did you most enjoy doing, and which did you most enjoy experiencing?)
5. What habits are you trying to change? What's encouraging, motivating, and/or inhibiting you in your efforts? Did you add any new habits that feel like they're becoming part of you? Did you drop any that you'd like to resume?
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Bringing the Weird
Yes; yes; my life IS, in fact, weird; it's no wonder it functions as Larry's reality show.
I managed to get some work done yesterday, which is good, but I also won the "How Many Excuses up with Which Can You Come So You Don't Have to Exercise?" contest, so less good on that. But that's not why my life is weird.
First, I got a nice holiday card/handwritten note--from my ex-sister-in-law. I have neither spoken to nor otherwise communicated with her in, let's see, nearly three years, so I found that very touching. Seriously: she has absolutely no reason to do that except genuine goodwill, and I appreciate and honor that. And, really, I always liked her a lot, so I will take this opportunity to send a note in return.
Second, I had dinner tonight with Chuck and CK, and we had a good time. Or, I did, and they sure seemed to, so everybody wins. Despite that, it doesn't feel "normal" to be doing these things. Good, on some level, but not . . . usual.
He told me that he's going to need to move, to save money on rent, and one of the options is to move in with a friend--one who lives close to Friend. Chuck studiously avoids talking much about Friend; I avoid it because I can see that it often sends Chuck into a not-good place and I don't like the nasty that sometimes comes my way as a result.
Hey, if it's okay with Chuck to run into Friend at the train station or on the bus, it's none of my business; I'm just not entirely convinced that it's going to be okay with Chuck. Otherwise, I don't have an opinion unless/until it makes Chuck wacky or unpleasant to deal with. I have had enough unpleasantness and drama (as has he, I'm sure), so I'm a little uneasy about a situation that may well increase the occurrence of those things, but he's the one who has to figure it out.
Part of the crunch is that he is paying, in addition to the things for which I also pay, like rent and utilities and such, for insurance for him AND CK, AND child support, AND half of CK's tuition--basically, those latter three things add up to a second rent, and it's killing him. And CK's mom gets to declare CK as a dependent on her tax return, every year.
Although of course I think Chuck should pay his fair share, I think CK's mother is unreasonable, and I think that Chuck isn't willing to take a stand with her, and that combination costs Chuck dearly. When we were together, there was more wiggle in his budget, but now there isn't any. Take the insurance: it's in their divorce decree that Chuck has to pay for CK's insurance, which is fine. However, Chuck works for a small company, so he is paying a buttload for insurance; mom works for a bigger company, and the additional cost of insurance for CK is probably somewhat less through that route, and I know that Chuck would happily pay her for that cost. CK is still insured, it costs Chuck less, everybody wins. But it would not occur to her to suggest it, and she most likely would not go along with it if Chuck suggested it, because . . . He Owes Her. In her mind, anyway.
Don't get me wrong: I don't think he should fight over every fucking cent; that's a nightmare that drains the soul and the wallet. But he does everything for her that he can--replacing her water heater, which probably saved her close to a grand; putting up and taking down her pool every year; doing all of the transporting of CK--and she is still an asshole about nearly everything. (I asked him tonight if he could talk to her about the insurance thing, and he circumspectly noted that they're not talking about much of anything right now. I didn't ask for details--not least because CK was there--but I was around for enough of those times to be able to fill in the blanks.) She is selfish, and self-centered, and full of shit, and she has no fucking clue; she acts as though Chuck Owes Her, because she didn't get the perfect picket-fenced life she expected as her due and expected him to provide. (Unfortunately, he buys into that, at least emotionally, way more than is good for him, but trying to change those kinds of emotional habits is difficult, at best.)
In some ways, her craziness probably makes me look positively rational. And, to give him his props, he has tried to find amicability with me, and we seem to succeed more and more often. It's painful for him (and for me), in many ways, but we both continue to grope for some kind of peace, in large part so I can maintain some kind of relationship with CK. I really don't want to go down the path of venom and hatefulness. I find it morally distasteful, I don't like how it makes me feel, and I don't like what I know about how it makes him feel. We've both been through enough shit; why bring about more? We spent a lot of time together, and we still know each other very well, and that can actually be a source of fondness and amusement, it seems. It's definitely bittersweet, but I look at the choices, and bittersweet seems like a fine alternative. He has said that he would prefer to have nothing to do with me, and maybe that's true; certainly it would be easier in many ways. But it would also end my contact with CK, which has always felt wrong to me, and, I think, to Chuck, as well. I'd like to think that it's good for CK--frankly, I'd end it in a minute, despite the pain to me, if I thought it was bad for CK.
I'd like to think that, overall, it's the best alternative for everyone concerned, of the available choices, despite the bitter in the bittersweetness. Neither Chuck nor I is consumed by the bitter, at least not most of the time. What's the point of carrying the anger and the bitterness around? He has continued to try to move in the right direction in his own life (in ways that I'm not going to detail here), as have I. If we'd been able to do that six or eight years ago, maybe things would have been different, but (a) it's not clear to me that he or I COULD have done that six or eight years ago, and (b) "different" does not necessarily mean "better."
Then again, that whole concept of better/worse doesn't work for me very well. I had to figure that out when my sister died, and again when I couldn't find an academic job, so this time was more like remembering than figuring out. That is: would my life have been different if my sister hadn't died? Of course; absolutely. Would it have been better? Well, it would have had her in it, which certainly is a big "better," but overall? Who the fuck knows? Would my life have been better if I'd gotten the tenure-track job at the small liberal-arts college? Different, for sure, but better? No way to know; what would that "better" look like?
Essentially, it seems fruitless to me to compare my current circumstances to some imagined parallel alternative. One cannot change one thread or one row in the knitting; the whole tapestry has to change, or the whole sweater has to be unraveled and reknit, and one still must make the best of whatever the circumstances are. There are other kinds of changes that might well cause more change--and identifiable harm--than others, of course, particularly if they're changes that cost money one doesn't have. If people slip below a certain level of financial wherewithal, then everything really goes to hell in a handbasket, and that did not happen to me--partly out of my own hard work, but also partly out of luck (e.g., in not getting injured; in getting enough work on the side), and partly out of having friends and relatives who could help if things were desperate.
All of which made it difficult to know what to say when Chuck would ask me if I'm "happier" without him/with Friend. It sometimes seemed Chuck thought I was holding back somehow (i.e., that I really am "happier with Friend" but just didn't want to tell Chuck), but I wasn't--I really don't know how to answer that, and I really don't look to Chuck or to Friend or anyone else for my happiness. Is my life "better"? Than what? Than if I had a teaching job? Than if I had a bakery? Suppose I had been denied tenure and couldn't find another job? Suppose the bakery drained my life savings and failed, or I got sick or injured? I regret not getting the chance to try those things, but I don't fool myself into thinking that success was guaranteed in either case--neither was failure, of course, but you have to remember both alternatives when you do the if-onlies.
Eh; enough philosophy for this morning. I have some work to do, to which I'll get eventually, but this morning I'm going to Whole Paycheck, the bakery (I have yet to find bread anywhere that comes close), the camera store (to get a charger and a USB cord for the camera I found), and to Peet's for more tea. The weather absolutely sucks--it's warm, but it's raining, a lot (I hope Friend's basement isn't flooding . . .). Still, the trip will enable me to putter even more tomorrow, and do laundry and baking at will. And I must work out. (Overall, I've been doing moderately well with that: the rowing machine right in the middle of the living room makes it hard to ignore all the time, so I do manage to get on it. Not as often, or for as long, as I would like, but I'll get there, and I don't have to go to a separate place to get exercise, so I'm still very glad i found this thing and bought it.) Time for errands . . .
I managed to get some work done yesterday, which is good, but I also won the "How Many Excuses up with Which Can You Come So You Don't Have to Exercise?" contest, so less good on that. But that's not why my life is weird.
First, I got a nice holiday card/handwritten note--from my ex-sister-in-law. I have neither spoken to nor otherwise communicated with her in, let's see, nearly three years, so I found that very touching. Seriously: she has absolutely no reason to do that except genuine goodwill, and I appreciate and honor that. And, really, I always liked her a lot, so I will take this opportunity to send a note in return.
Second, I had dinner tonight with Chuck and CK, and we had a good time. Or, I did, and they sure seemed to, so everybody wins. Despite that, it doesn't feel "normal" to be doing these things. Good, on some level, but not . . . usual.
He told me that he's going to need to move, to save money on rent, and one of the options is to move in with a friend--one who lives close to Friend. Chuck studiously avoids talking much about Friend; I avoid it because I can see that it often sends Chuck into a not-good place and I don't like the nasty that sometimes comes my way as a result.
Hey, if it's okay with Chuck to run into Friend at the train station or on the bus, it's none of my business; I'm just not entirely convinced that it's going to be okay with Chuck. Otherwise, I don't have an opinion unless/until it makes Chuck wacky or unpleasant to deal with. I have had enough unpleasantness and drama (as has he, I'm sure), so I'm a little uneasy about a situation that may well increase the occurrence of those things, but he's the one who has to figure it out.
Part of the crunch is that he is paying, in addition to the things for which I also pay, like rent and utilities and such, for insurance for him AND CK, AND child support, AND half of CK's tuition--basically, those latter three things add up to a second rent, and it's killing him. And CK's mom gets to declare CK as a dependent on her tax return, every year.
Although of course I think Chuck should pay his fair share, I think CK's mother is unreasonable, and I think that Chuck isn't willing to take a stand with her, and that combination costs Chuck dearly. When we were together, there was more wiggle in his budget, but now there isn't any. Take the insurance: it's in their divorce decree that Chuck has to pay for CK's insurance, which is fine. However, Chuck works for a small company, so he is paying a buttload for insurance; mom works for a bigger company, and the additional cost of insurance for CK is probably somewhat less through that route, and I know that Chuck would happily pay her for that cost. CK is still insured, it costs Chuck less, everybody wins. But it would not occur to her to suggest it, and she most likely would not go along with it if Chuck suggested it, because . . . He Owes Her. In her mind, anyway.
Don't get me wrong: I don't think he should fight over every fucking cent; that's a nightmare that drains the soul and the wallet. But he does everything for her that he can--replacing her water heater, which probably saved her close to a grand; putting up and taking down her pool every year; doing all of the transporting of CK--and she is still an asshole about nearly everything. (I asked him tonight if he could talk to her about the insurance thing, and he circumspectly noted that they're not talking about much of anything right now. I didn't ask for details--not least because CK was there--but I was around for enough of those times to be able to fill in the blanks.) She is selfish, and self-centered, and full of shit, and she has no fucking clue; she acts as though Chuck Owes Her, because she didn't get the perfect picket-fenced life she expected as her due and expected him to provide. (Unfortunately, he buys into that, at least emotionally, way more than is good for him, but trying to change those kinds of emotional habits is difficult, at best.)
In some ways, her craziness probably makes me look positively rational. And, to give him his props, he has tried to find amicability with me, and we seem to succeed more and more often. It's painful for him (and for me), in many ways, but we both continue to grope for some kind of peace, in large part so I can maintain some kind of relationship with CK. I really don't want to go down the path of venom and hatefulness. I find it morally distasteful, I don't like how it makes me feel, and I don't like what I know about how it makes him feel. We've both been through enough shit; why bring about more? We spent a lot of time together, and we still know each other very well, and that can actually be a source of fondness and amusement, it seems. It's definitely bittersweet, but I look at the choices, and bittersweet seems like a fine alternative. He has said that he would prefer to have nothing to do with me, and maybe that's true; certainly it would be easier in many ways. But it would also end my contact with CK, which has always felt wrong to me, and, I think, to Chuck, as well. I'd like to think that it's good for CK--frankly, I'd end it in a minute, despite the pain to me, if I thought it was bad for CK.
I'd like to think that, overall, it's the best alternative for everyone concerned, of the available choices, despite the bitter in the bittersweetness. Neither Chuck nor I is consumed by the bitter, at least not most of the time. What's the point of carrying the anger and the bitterness around? He has continued to try to move in the right direction in his own life (in ways that I'm not going to detail here), as have I. If we'd been able to do that six or eight years ago, maybe things would have been different, but (a) it's not clear to me that he or I COULD have done that six or eight years ago, and (b) "different" does not necessarily mean "better."
Then again, that whole concept of better/worse doesn't work for me very well. I had to figure that out when my sister died, and again when I couldn't find an academic job, so this time was more like remembering than figuring out. That is: would my life have been different if my sister hadn't died? Of course; absolutely. Would it have been better? Well, it would have had her in it, which certainly is a big "better," but overall? Who the fuck knows? Would my life have been better if I'd gotten the tenure-track job at the small liberal-arts college? Different, for sure, but better? No way to know; what would that "better" look like?
Essentially, it seems fruitless to me to compare my current circumstances to some imagined parallel alternative. One cannot change one thread or one row in the knitting; the whole tapestry has to change, or the whole sweater has to be unraveled and reknit, and one still must make the best of whatever the circumstances are. There are other kinds of changes that might well cause more change--and identifiable harm--than others, of course, particularly if they're changes that cost money one doesn't have. If people slip below a certain level of financial wherewithal, then everything really goes to hell in a handbasket, and that did not happen to me--partly out of my own hard work, but also partly out of luck (e.g., in not getting injured; in getting enough work on the side), and partly out of having friends and relatives who could help if things were desperate.
All of which made it difficult to know what to say when Chuck would ask me if I'm "happier" without him/with Friend. It sometimes seemed Chuck thought I was holding back somehow (i.e., that I really am "happier with Friend" but just didn't want to tell Chuck), but I wasn't--I really don't know how to answer that, and I really don't look to Chuck or to Friend or anyone else for my happiness. Is my life "better"? Than what? Than if I had a teaching job? Than if I had a bakery? Suppose I had been denied tenure and couldn't find another job? Suppose the bakery drained my life savings and failed, or I got sick or injured? I regret not getting the chance to try those things, but I don't fool myself into thinking that success was guaranteed in either case--neither was failure, of course, but you have to remember both alternatives when you do the if-onlies.
Eh; enough philosophy for this morning. I have some work to do, to which I'll get eventually, but this morning I'm going to Whole Paycheck, the bakery (I have yet to find bread anywhere that comes close), the camera store (to get a charger and a USB cord for the camera I found), and to Peet's for more tea. The weather absolutely sucks--it's warm, but it's raining, a lot (I hope Friend's basement isn't flooding . . .). Still, the trip will enable me to putter even more tomorrow, and do laundry and baking at will. And I must work out. (Overall, I've been doing moderately well with that: the rowing machine right in the middle of the living room makes it hard to ignore all the time, so I do manage to get on it. Not as often, or for as long, as I would like, but I'll get there, and I don't have to go to a separate place to get exercise, so I'm still very glad i found this thing and bought it.) Time for errands . . .
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Reasons Why Top Chef Annoys Me
1. It's bad television.
There actually are several pieces to this, but it can be summed up by noting that the suspense is so fucking manufactured as to make me want to smack somebody. And even this is annoying on several levels, but I don't want to get too carried away with my outline formatting here.
First off, I really fucking hate reality shows--there's the putting-writers-out-of-work thing; there's the manufactured bits pretending they're not manufactured; there's the notion that this is in any way whatsoever "reality"; there's the scripting and editing; there are the premises of many of the shows. Most important, though, there's the completely overwrought drama of the whole thing.
People, it's a show about cooking. Noone is going to cure cancer. Noone is going to invent anything useful. No lives will be saved. Someone will almost certainly Learn Something, because the moral seems to be that One Must Learn From One's Experiences. Which, yes, I get, and even agree with, but I don't think the things one should learn are the lessons I hear parroted on these shows, or at least not on the few that I've seen.
The other part about the drama is that it's just bullshit. Seriously. (I find things like "Survivor," which I've seen once, and the one with the teams trying to get from one place to another, which I've seen once, even more tedious than the ones I've seen more.) Did I mention it's a cooking contest? It's basically a Pillsbury Bake-Off each week, and the contestants have tattoos and creative facial hair rather than aprons and pumps. Think about the good suspense/drama that you've seen--I'm thinking now about something like "Hill Street Blues," or even "M*A*S*H" in the good years, or "Northern Exposure," or any of a zillion different shows. They were suspenseful and dramatic because you came to like and know the characters. I realize that the producers of these shows are creating characters from their contestants, but see above, re: actual writers and the producers versus whoever is "creating" the characters, or, at least, characterizations.
And that kind of points to the real tension here. All of us have suspense and drama in our lives, except it is often messy, and it often doesn't fit neatly, and we don't always learn the right lessons from our experiences (or learn any lessons at all, for that matter), and shit just happens, and most of it is tedious to people who don't know us (and probably to some who do). Some of it seems good; some seems bad; some is just . . . shit. But that kind of actual life doesn't really fit into "reality" shows all that much, though it occasionally breaks through.
Instead there's all this manufactured drama about the undercooked egg, or the raw scallop (yes, Jamie gets on my nerves, plus, can she cook with anything other than scallops?), or the extra mushrooms, all these long serious faces, and tears and hugging, and discussions among the judges in serious tones that make it sound like it's Life Or Death, rather than a cooking contest.
Also, the long-drawn-out pauses? The huge commercial breaks at Crucial Moments? Yeah, I suppose that latter one is understandable, but the former is really fucking annoying. I'd much rather they have more in-depth discussions, discuss the dishes or cooking theory or whatthefuckever in more depth, rather than long pregnant pauses before someone is told to pack his or her knives. It's really a wasted opportunity to put actual, real drama in the show; instead they replace it with the aforementioned pregnant pauses.
Let's hear the judges having a longer discussion; let's have more of the contestants discussing what they tried to do with a given dish, BEFORE the judges' panel, maybe even with some honesty about what they think worked and what they think didn't work; maybe even, if you want to add some drama, have the contestants judge each other's dishes in some way that doesn't get someone thrown under the bus. All of those options would provide real information, and, at least potentially, real drama, instead of the crap. A final note to the producers on this: little segments on this or that person's life history do not turn people into Characters. I'd rather hear about dishes that so-and-so tried and loved; that worked really well in the restaurant but that the staff hated for some reason; that the staff loved but that didn't work, and why not. Quite frankly, that would give me more insight into what the cheftestants are thinking than little tidbits on this one's gay, that one's flirting, the other one's old.
2. There's no joy.
Fuck; there's not even humor! I realize that humor, like drama, comes in part from the characters, and it's difficult to do that on a show like this, but there is no humor at all. There's a lot of sturm und drang; there's tense nail-biting; there's stress and tension and flinging things around the kitchen, but don't these people ever fucking laugh? Stefan and Fabio seem to laugh once in awhile, or at least make jokes, but no one else does. Don't they enjoy what they're doing?
I can't quite figure this one out. I don't know about places like Charlie Trotter's or Everest (the latter of which is a silent kitchen, which means the only thing you say is "Yes, Chef"), because, hey, the bakery was not those places, and the joy there may work differently. But every place I've ever worked has . . . some kind of happiness and laughter around it. Bossman regularly cracked me up, as did Phil, because they're both genuinely funny people.
But there was also joy. I don't know how else to put it. There's something just about taking water, sugar, butter, flour, yeast, and salt, and making beautiful, delicate croissants. Yes, it was grinding and grueling, but even in the middle of that we managed to laugh with each other, and, more to the point, there's a love of at least aspects of the doing. And there's also a joy in the rhythm of it all, of stepping in at just the right moment to help Phil toss the baguette dough through the one-way sheeter (thereby saving him 15 or 20 minutes), then stepping back into whatever I was doing; and a joy in the barely literate dishwasher figuring out what I needed or didn't need and doing that for me, without my asking; and the joy of making good products and getting them out the door in time, of improvising when necessary, even when it's incredibly difficult and frustrating. (As an example: I went by the bakery today to get some baked goods, and found out that the freezers broke, so they had product sitting outside to keep it cold, and probably crammed into the downstairs freezer as well. It's the day before the busiest day of the year, and the freezers broke?!? Oy. Hard to find the joy in that, I know, but you just figure something out, because what else can you do?)
Which leads to the next point:
3. Being a chef is not only a solo gig.
Most of the competitions out there emphasize solo performance, as does this one, but cooking in a professional kitchen (or baking in a bakery) is a dance with many. Some of it is purely practical: everyone cannot have his or her own dough sheeter, for example. Yes, everyone has his or her own responsibilities, and someone who cannot perform is a drag on the whole system, and this is probably even more true in a restaurant, where people have particular stations. Yes, for the Really Big restaurants there is a visionary of some kind, someone who is doing a lot of the creating (though I would argue that part of what the visionary is doing is the marketing of the personality of the chef, not just creating "signature dishes"). But you had better be part of a team, or the whole production system will fall apart.
The Top Chef competition eliminates much of this aspect. The chefs sometimes work in "teams," but they typically still seem to produce their own items as members of that team, rather than working together or collaborating to produce a product or series of products. The two major exceptions were when the chefs were divided into two teams to produce Thanksgiving dinner for the Foo Fighters (although they still each produced their own dishes) and when everyone pitched in to help Hosea and Rahdika overcome the fact that their meats had been in an open--and therefore insufficiently cooled--fridge overnight and could not be served. The latter was just a random occurrence, but it was closer to what probably happens than any of the other more staged bits.
4. Being a chef is not only a solo gig, part 2.
The really big part of how it's not a solo gig, however, is the part where one does not just instantaneously produce The Perfect Dish. It does not happen that way. Think about how the Brazen Tart describes the dessert creation process at one of the top restaurants in this city. Think about the way we play with recipes and ingredients and write about it on our blogs (and you guys do, too). Think about how Bossman worked on formulae for his competition--over a period of a year, fer chrissakes--and how he and I both worked on items for the store. Although we might well have come up with something that we could sell the first time around (Bossman isn't big on tossing out product if someone will buy it), we'd still continue to work on it until we got it right. The competition completely eliminates one of the major major aspects of creating product--the iterations, and reiterations, and rereiterations, until the people involved feel like it's good, reproducible, and salable. I find that process to be quite interesting and fun and challenging--I liked it in school, for that matter.
How this plays into the competition is to make what they produce LESS interesting, IMHO. Tom was having a hissy fit last week about how everyone is doing "safe" stuff, and he has a point, but, dude, the way the show is set up encourages that to some extent, and the way the challenges I've seen are set up reinforces it even more. There is no time to fuck up or rethink or recover if something didn't work. Think about Eugene's soup for Martha Stewart: he had to use cornstarch to thicken it, because he didn't have enough time to let it reduce; everyone hated the cornstarch. Well, okay, yeah, I would rather not use it, either, but he had an hour to produce a fab dish for Martha, from scratch. Think about the salad that Ariane won with--not terribly interesting or exciting, but they had to come up with a dish they could produce reliably and teach on TV in 2.5 minutes. That isn't going to encourage creativity, sports fans.
On one hand, he says the point is to "win." Well, yes. So doing something interesting or risky that might not work the first time, that might need tweaking but that would rock the second or third or fourth time you tried it, isn't going to be an option when you have a total of five hours to come up with, shop for, prep, and prepare a dish. Sorry, there, Tom, but no. If you really want people to do interesting things, you have to give them the opportunity to (a) fail the first time and (b) incorporate feedback and criticism into the second (or third) time. THAT would be an interesting challenge: make a dish that meets X criteria, with the knowledge that everyone will give you feedback and you will have to incorporate the feedback into a second round of making that dish. In fact, every goddamned challenge should have a variation on that theme in it, not just the judges'-table-you-suck-or-you-rock aspect.
What would be interesting about that is how people would incorporate that feedback, quite frankly. Jamie, for example, and the blonde with the bangs (Melissa?) are really fucking annoying about that. Plus, I think that feedback thing would call out Jeff (who gets on my last fucking nerve), because he doesn't seem to think anyone has anything useful to say to him because He Is A Kitchen God. Yeah, okay, dude; did you see the part about it's just a cooking show?
I chalk all of my complaints up to a failure in conception. That is, no one is exactly clear on what a "Top Chef" actually is. What are the rules? Winning the most competitions? Not getting eliminated? Getting lucky with a particular dish when your strongest competition happens to fuck up? Those are not useful rules, and they especially are not rules that anyone could use or incorporate. compare this with What Not to Wear.
At least with WNTW there are distinct rules that the hosts try to teach, complete with explanations about why the hosts think those rules are good things. You can disagree with the rules--which I have done--but the rules are clear. The other thing with WNTW that's sort of interesting is that there's a certain lack of judgment-dispensing that's kind of refreshing. They don't tell someone OMG you're a total frump or a total slut or whatever; they say, given your body, and given the image you want to present, here are ways you can do that that will work better for you. (Aslo, on WNTW the "suspense" or the drama is manufactured sort of naturally: when the person's friends and family see her for he first time.) The same was true with "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," which I also kind of liked.
Basically, both WNTW and QEftSG provided the participant as well as the viewer with relatively clear rules to follow, along with some rationale for doing so. Those shows were/are the equivalent of teaching someone to fish in his or her own particular pond. Top Chef is more: make fish for me! in an hour! while hopping on one foot! Which isn't that interesting, no matter what you do to tart it up.
But I'll probably watch future episodes. And be annoyed.
p.s. Larry is right, on some level, in his comment below (which I tried to say, but blogspot foiled me), except that, just looking at the recipe, I knew that it would be too greasy and too sweet, even for PB cookies, so I tried to rectify that, and I'll do so again, even if I use the chopped peanuts that Epiphenita reminds me to use.
e.t.a.: Okay, I changed the title, because some of you may not want big cursey words right there in the title, especially if the title shows up on your blog (*coughkstylecough*). You're on your own for the rest of it, though.
There actually are several pieces to this, but it can be summed up by noting that the suspense is so fucking manufactured as to make me want to smack somebody. And even this is annoying on several levels, but I don't want to get too carried away with my outline formatting here.
First off, I really fucking hate reality shows--there's the putting-writers-out-of-work thing; there's the manufactured bits pretending they're not manufactured; there's the notion that this is in any way whatsoever "reality"; there's the scripting and editing; there are the premises of many of the shows. Most important, though, there's the completely overwrought drama of the whole thing.
People, it's a show about cooking. Noone is going to cure cancer. Noone is going to invent anything useful. No lives will be saved. Someone will almost certainly Learn Something, because the moral seems to be that One Must Learn From One's Experiences. Which, yes, I get, and even agree with, but I don't think the things one should learn are the lessons I hear parroted on these shows, or at least not on the few that I've seen.
The other part about the drama is that it's just bullshit. Seriously. (I find things like "Survivor," which I've seen once, and the one with the teams trying to get from one place to another, which I've seen once, even more tedious than the ones I've seen more.) Did I mention it's a cooking contest? It's basically a Pillsbury Bake-Off each week, and the contestants have tattoos and creative facial hair rather than aprons and pumps. Think about the good suspense/drama that you've seen--I'm thinking now about something like "Hill Street Blues," or even "M*A*S*H" in the good years, or "Northern Exposure," or any of a zillion different shows. They were suspenseful and dramatic because you came to like and know the characters. I realize that the producers of these shows are creating characters from their contestants, but see above, re: actual writers and the producers versus whoever is "creating" the characters, or, at least, characterizations.
And that kind of points to the real tension here. All of us have suspense and drama in our lives, except it is often messy, and it often doesn't fit neatly, and we don't always learn the right lessons from our experiences (or learn any lessons at all, for that matter), and shit just happens, and most of it is tedious to people who don't know us (and probably to some who do). Some of it seems good; some seems bad; some is just . . . shit. But that kind of actual life doesn't really fit into "reality" shows all that much, though it occasionally breaks through.
Instead there's all this manufactured drama about the undercooked egg, or the raw scallop (yes, Jamie gets on my nerves, plus, can she cook with anything other than scallops?), or the extra mushrooms, all these long serious faces, and tears and hugging, and discussions among the judges in serious tones that make it sound like it's Life Or Death, rather than a cooking contest.
Also, the long-drawn-out pauses? The huge commercial breaks at Crucial Moments? Yeah, I suppose that latter one is understandable, but the former is really fucking annoying. I'd much rather they have more in-depth discussions, discuss the dishes or cooking theory or whatthefuckever in more depth, rather than long pregnant pauses before someone is told to pack his or her knives. It's really a wasted opportunity to put actual, real drama in the show; instead they replace it with the aforementioned pregnant pauses.
Let's hear the judges having a longer discussion; let's have more of the contestants discussing what they tried to do with a given dish, BEFORE the judges' panel, maybe even with some honesty about what they think worked and what they think didn't work; maybe even, if you want to add some drama, have the contestants judge each other's dishes in some way that doesn't get someone thrown under the bus. All of those options would provide real information, and, at least potentially, real drama, instead of the crap. A final note to the producers on this: little segments on this or that person's life history do not turn people into Characters. I'd rather hear about dishes that so-and-so tried and loved; that worked really well in the restaurant but that the staff hated for some reason; that the staff loved but that didn't work, and why not. Quite frankly, that would give me more insight into what the cheftestants are thinking than little tidbits on this one's gay, that one's flirting, the other one's old.
2. There's no joy.
Fuck; there's not even humor! I realize that humor, like drama, comes in part from the characters, and it's difficult to do that on a show like this, but there is no humor at all. There's a lot of sturm und drang; there's tense nail-biting; there's stress and tension and flinging things around the kitchen, but don't these people ever fucking laugh? Stefan and Fabio seem to laugh once in awhile, or at least make jokes, but no one else does. Don't they enjoy what they're doing?
I can't quite figure this one out. I don't know about places like Charlie Trotter's or Everest (the latter of which is a silent kitchen, which means the only thing you say is "Yes, Chef"), because, hey, the bakery was not those places, and the joy there may work differently. But every place I've ever worked has . . . some kind of happiness and laughter around it. Bossman regularly cracked me up, as did Phil, because they're both genuinely funny people.
But there was also joy. I don't know how else to put it. There's something just about taking water, sugar, butter, flour, yeast, and salt, and making beautiful, delicate croissants. Yes, it was grinding and grueling, but even in the middle of that we managed to laugh with each other, and, more to the point, there's a love of at least aspects of the doing. And there's also a joy in the rhythm of it all, of stepping in at just the right moment to help Phil toss the baguette dough through the one-way sheeter (thereby saving him 15 or 20 minutes), then stepping back into whatever I was doing; and a joy in the barely literate dishwasher figuring out what I needed or didn't need and doing that for me, without my asking; and the joy of making good products and getting them out the door in time, of improvising when necessary, even when it's incredibly difficult and frustrating. (As an example: I went by the bakery today to get some baked goods, and found out that the freezers broke, so they had product sitting outside to keep it cold, and probably crammed into the downstairs freezer as well. It's the day before the busiest day of the year, and the freezers broke?!? Oy. Hard to find the joy in that, I know, but you just figure something out, because what else can you do?)
Which leads to the next point:
3. Being a chef is not only a solo gig.
Most of the competitions out there emphasize solo performance, as does this one, but cooking in a professional kitchen (or baking in a bakery) is a dance with many. Some of it is purely practical: everyone cannot have his or her own dough sheeter, for example. Yes, everyone has his or her own responsibilities, and someone who cannot perform is a drag on the whole system, and this is probably even more true in a restaurant, where people have particular stations. Yes, for the Really Big restaurants there is a visionary of some kind, someone who is doing a lot of the creating (though I would argue that part of what the visionary is doing is the marketing of the personality of the chef, not just creating "signature dishes"). But you had better be part of a team, or the whole production system will fall apart.
The Top Chef competition eliminates much of this aspect. The chefs sometimes work in "teams," but they typically still seem to produce their own items as members of that team, rather than working together or collaborating to produce a product or series of products. The two major exceptions were when the chefs were divided into two teams to produce Thanksgiving dinner for the Foo Fighters (although they still each produced their own dishes) and when everyone pitched in to help Hosea and Rahdika overcome the fact that their meats had been in an open--and therefore insufficiently cooled--fridge overnight and could not be served. The latter was just a random occurrence, but it was closer to what probably happens than any of the other more staged bits.
4. Being a chef is not only a solo gig, part 2.
The really big part of how it's not a solo gig, however, is the part where one does not just instantaneously produce The Perfect Dish. It does not happen that way. Think about how the Brazen Tart describes the dessert creation process at one of the top restaurants in this city. Think about the way we play with recipes and ingredients and write about it on our blogs (and you guys do, too). Think about how Bossman worked on formulae for his competition--over a period of a year, fer chrissakes--and how he and I both worked on items for the store. Although we might well have come up with something that we could sell the first time around (Bossman isn't big on tossing out product if someone will buy it), we'd still continue to work on it until we got it right. The competition completely eliminates one of the major major aspects of creating product--the iterations, and reiterations, and rereiterations, until the people involved feel like it's good, reproducible, and salable. I find that process to be quite interesting and fun and challenging--I liked it in school, for that matter.
How this plays into the competition is to make what they produce LESS interesting, IMHO. Tom was having a hissy fit last week about how everyone is doing "safe" stuff, and he has a point, but, dude, the way the show is set up encourages that to some extent, and the way the challenges I've seen are set up reinforces it even more. There is no time to fuck up or rethink or recover if something didn't work. Think about Eugene's soup for Martha Stewart: he had to use cornstarch to thicken it, because he didn't have enough time to let it reduce; everyone hated the cornstarch. Well, okay, yeah, I would rather not use it, either, but he had an hour to produce a fab dish for Martha, from scratch. Think about the salad that Ariane won with--not terribly interesting or exciting, but they had to come up with a dish they could produce reliably and teach on TV in 2.5 minutes. That isn't going to encourage creativity, sports fans.
On one hand, he says the point is to "win." Well, yes. So doing something interesting or risky that might not work the first time, that might need tweaking but that would rock the second or third or fourth time you tried it, isn't going to be an option when you have a total of five hours to come up with, shop for, prep, and prepare a dish. Sorry, there, Tom, but no. If you really want people to do interesting things, you have to give them the opportunity to (a) fail the first time and (b) incorporate feedback and criticism into the second (or third) time. THAT would be an interesting challenge: make a dish that meets X criteria, with the knowledge that everyone will give you feedback and you will have to incorporate the feedback into a second round of making that dish. In fact, every goddamned challenge should have a variation on that theme in it, not just the judges'-table-you-suck-or-you-rock aspect.
What would be interesting about that is how people would incorporate that feedback, quite frankly. Jamie, for example, and the blonde with the bangs (Melissa?) are really fucking annoying about that. Plus, I think that feedback thing would call out Jeff (who gets on my last fucking nerve), because he doesn't seem to think anyone has anything useful to say to him because He Is A Kitchen God. Yeah, okay, dude; did you see the part about it's just a cooking show?
I chalk all of my complaints up to a failure in conception. That is, no one is exactly clear on what a "Top Chef" actually is. What are the rules? Winning the most competitions? Not getting eliminated? Getting lucky with a particular dish when your strongest competition happens to fuck up? Those are not useful rules, and they especially are not rules that anyone could use or incorporate. compare this with What Not to Wear.
At least with WNTW there are distinct rules that the hosts try to teach, complete with explanations about why the hosts think those rules are good things. You can disagree with the rules--which I have done--but the rules are clear. The other thing with WNTW that's sort of interesting is that there's a certain lack of judgment-dispensing that's kind of refreshing. They don't tell someone OMG you're a total frump or a total slut or whatever; they say, given your body, and given the image you want to present, here are ways you can do that that will work better for you. (Aslo, on WNTW the "suspense" or the drama is manufactured sort of naturally: when the person's friends and family see her for he first time.) The same was true with "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," which I also kind of liked.
Basically, both WNTW and QEftSG provided the participant as well as the viewer with relatively clear rules to follow, along with some rationale for doing so. Those shows were/are the equivalent of teaching someone to fish in his or her own particular pond. Top Chef is more: make fish for me! in an hour! while hopping on one foot! Which isn't that interesting, no matter what you do to tart it up.
But I'll probably watch future episodes. And be annoyed.
p.s. Larry is right, on some level, in his comment below (which I tried to say, but blogspot foiled me), except that, just looking at the recipe, I knew that it would be too greasy and too sweet, even for PB cookies, so I tried to rectify that, and I'll do so again, even if I use the chopped peanuts that Epiphenita reminds me to use.
e.t.a.: Okay, I changed the title, because some of you may not want big cursey words right there in the title, especially if the title shows up on your blog (*coughkstylecough*). You're on your own for the rest of it, though.
Monday, December 22, 2008
More Bitching about Family and Cookies
Well, I've been writing posts in my head, anyway, even if they haven't made it here.
I made peanut butter cookies yesterday, from the Cooks Illustrated baking book, which you would expect to be good, given the yammering they do about The! Best! Recipe! Evah!!! And, yes, I did change the recipe a little (reduced the butter; added a little applesauce to make up for that; subbed honey for the white sugar and reduced the amount, but left the brown sugar as is; didn't have a cup of peanuts, so just used two cups of peanut butter, though the peanut butter was made from just peanuts, so should have affected texture more than taste; and added chopped chocolate), but I was still completely underwhelmed by these cookies. They were still WAY too sweet, for one thing, and not nearly peanuty enough, for another, so they were kind of a fail. They're edible, and still cookie-ishy, so people will consume them, but I really rather hated them. I know, I know; y'all are looking at that list of changes and thinking, well, of COURSE they didn't taste the way the recipe promised they would! But the two biggest problems with the flavor--the sweetness and the peanut flavor--should not have been affected by those changes--should have been unaffected, or even improved by it, perhaps.
So I'll keep working on that recipe, too, because I want some peanut butter cookies, damn it. In rummaging around on epicurious, however, you'll note that there are many recipes, but none that everyone seems to like, even the ones from Bon Appetit and Gourmet and such. The other thing about the recipes is that they all have a ton of butter, on top of the peanut butter, and a couple even have oil AND butter, which, I don't know, sounds wrong on so many levels.
Meanwhile, my mother continues with her but-you'll-be-aloooooone-on-CHRISTMAS lament, which is getting on my nerves. I've been trying to be patient with her about it, but it's starting to bug me. I explained that I have to work on Friday, which doesn't stop the lamentations--what's Friend doing? why didn't I "come home"? but you're going to be aloooooone--and I really don't know what to say. I have pointed out that I really do not give a good goddamn. I've noted that I have to work on Friday, and thus couldn't travel anywhere anyway. All to no avail. She persists in complaining/whining about how I'm going to be alone, which is a state that does not disturb me in the least. If she said that she missed me and she wished I could be there, I'd actually be more okay with that, because that's an expression of her feelings about the situation and about me, but she can't or won't come right out and say that, so she instead expresses dismay at a situation that does not dismay the person who is actually experiencing, i.e., me. (Expressing her actual feelings is not something at which my mother excels.)
The other thing that bugs me about it, but that I do not have the heart to mention, given her and my father's current health situations, is that not once in the past 30 years has anyone visited me for the holidays. Never. Not when I lived an hour and a half away; not in the 22 years I've been living in this city. Never. Chuck and I traveled there for Christmas more than once, including once with his son, and I have gone to them many, many times. But there has been no reciprocity, number one, and, number two, it was legitimate for me to be here when I had a husband or husband-to-be, but not when I am (wait for it!) alone. I will not even begin to try to explain this to her, because critiques of patriarchy are not something she has ever understood, but also, and more importantly, because she cannot visit me for the holidays now. They have talked about visiting next summer, and may actually do so--dialysis is certainly available in this city--but she hates cold weather and would be nothing but miserable if she were here now (did you notice the -20-something wind chills yesterday?), and managing dialysis in a different city and bitterly cold weather and not being around her only grandchildren is a bit much to ask of her. Still, I do wish she'd quit nagging about what I'm doing (or, rather, not doing).
I've been busy at work, and I still have several things I must accomplish before the end of the year, but I must also admit that I have not been terribly motivated some days (like today). Some of it is that I really do want (a) some time off and (b) a substantial raise, but I don't see either of those things coming my way any time soon. Other days I do manage to get some stuff done, but, really, did I mention some time off? I will get some this week and next--we get off for the eve and the day, for both Christmas and New Year's--so I can get some chores (like laundry) done, and also just kinda do nothing much. I have some side work to do, too, which means a couple of nice checks after the beginning of the year. The editing has been slow since July--only two jobs, including the current one--but I'm assuming it's merely a question of timing rather than a sudden decision that I suck. And, really, much as I enjoy the extra bucks, it's been nice to have a break from it, and after paying off the student loan. It'd be nice to get some work after the first of the year, admittedly, but my situation is so much improved from last year at this time. Tomorrow will feature some actual work--or it had better, anyway--as well as some meetings and such. Plus? Warmer! And, if I get it together, tomorrow I will bitch about Top Chef for your entertainment.
p.s. Get well, Brazen Tart!!
I made peanut butter cookies yesterday, from the Cooks Illustrated baking book, which you would expect to be good, given the yammering they do about The! Best! Recipe! Evah!!! And, yes, I did change the recipe a little (reduced the butter; added a little applesauce to make up for that; subbed honey for the white sugar and reduced the amount, but left the brown sugar as is; didn't have a cup of peanuts, so just used two cups of peanut butter, though the peanut butter was made from just peanuts, so should have affected texture more than taste; and added chopped chocolate), but I was still completely underwhelmed by these cookies. They were still WAY too sweet, for one thing, and not nearly peanuty enough, for another, so they were kind of a fail. They're edible, and still cookie-ishy, so people will consume them, but I really rather hated them. I know, I know; y'all are looking at that list of changes and thinking, well, of COURSE they didn't taste the way the recipe promised they would! But the two biggest problems with the flavor--the sweetness and the peanut flavor--should not have been affected by those changes--should have been unaffected, or even improved by it, perhaps.
So I'll keep working on that recipe, too, because I want some peanut butter cookies, damn it. In rummaging around on epicurious, however, you'll note that there are many recipes, but none that everyone seems to like, even the ones from Bon Appetit and Gourmet and such. The other thing about the recipes is that they all have a ton of butter, on top of the peanut butter, and a couple even have oil AND butter, which, I don't know, sounds wrong on so many levels.
Meanwhile, my mother continues with her but-you'll-be-aloooooone-on-CHRISTMAS lament, which is getting on my nerves. I've been trying to be patient with her about it, but it's starting to bug me. I explained that I have to work on Friday, which doesn't stop the lamentations--what's Friend doing? why didn't I "come home"? but you're going to be aloooooone--and I really don't know what to say. I have pointed out that I really do not give a good goddamn. I've noted that I have to work on Friday, and thus couldn't travel anywhere anyway. All to no avail. She persists in complaining/whining about how I'm going to be alone, which is a state that does not disturb me in the least. If she said that she missed me and she wished I could be there, I'd actually be more okay with that, because that's an expression of her feelings about the situation and about me, but she can't or won't come right out and say that, so she instead expresses dismay at a situation that does not dismay the person who is actually experiencing, i.e., me. (Expressing her actual feelings is not something at which my mother excels.)
The other thing that bugs me about it, but that I do not have the heart to mention, given her and my father's current health situations, is that not once in the past 30 years has anyone visited me for the holidays. Never. Not when I lived an hour and a half away; not in the 22 years I've been living in this city. Never. Chuck and I traveled there for Christmas more than once, including once with his son, and I have gone to them many, many times. But there has been no reciprocity, number one, and, number two, it was legitimate for me to be here when I had a husband or husband-to-be, but not when I am (wait for it!) alone. I will not even begin to try to explain this to her, because critiques of patriarchy are not something she has ever understood, but also, and more importantly, because she cannot visit me for the holidays now. They have talked about visiting next summer, and may actually do so--dialysis is certainly available in this city--but she hates cold weather and would be nothing but miserable if she were here now (did you notice the -20-something wind chills yesterday?), and managing dialysis in a different city and bitterly cold weather and not being around her only grandchildren is a bit much to ask of her. Still, I do wish she'd quit nagging about what I'm doing (or, rather, not doing).
I've been busy at work, and I still have several things I must accomplish before the end of the year, but I must also admit that I have not been terribly motivated some days (like today). Some of it is that I really do want (a) some time off and (b) a substantial raise, but I don't see either of those things coming my way any time soon. Other days I do manage to get some stuff done, but, really, did I mention some time off? I will get some this week and next--we get off for the eve and the day, for both Christmas and New Year's--so I can get some chores (like laundry) done, and also just kinda do nothing much. I have some side work to do, too, which means a couple of nice checks after the beginning of the year. The editing has been slow since July--only two jobs, including the current one--but I'm assuming it's merely a question of timing rather than a sudden decision that I suck. And, really, much as I enjoy the extra bucks, it's been nice to have a break from it, and after paying off the student loan. It'd be nice to get some work after the first of the year, admittedly, but my situation is so much improved from last year at this time. Tomorrow will feature some actual work--or it had better, anyway--as well as some meetings and such. Plus? Warmer! And, if I get it together, tomorrow I will bitch about Top Chef for your entertainment.
p.s. Get well, Brazen Tart!!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Trading Places
Of the things I should have done tonight--work out, or edit, or, preferably, both--I have done none, opting instead for sitting on my butt and eating cookies. This is not a useful state of affairs, of course, but is the one with which I find myself faced. Because I am a slug.
I spent a fair amount of time today in meetings, or on phone conferences, all of which was tiring and some of which was tedious, and some time on the phone trying to figure out whether my dad should go into a clinical trial. I found the trial, and I think it might actually be a good fit for him, as his bladder cancer keeps recurring and there isn't anything else out there for him, except removing the bladder, which, really, isn't an option that I think he would enjoy. So I've talked my mother through the clinical trials process, and talked to a study coordinator (although not the one with whom they would deal), and I think they're going to go check it out. I emphasized that he doesn't have to agree to anything, that he doesn't have to sign anything, and that they can ask any questions they want, and I pointed out that the drug they've been waiting for (a) still hasn't cleared the FDA, even though their last info suggests the manufacturing difficulties should have been cleared up 9 months ago and (b) only works 20% of the time. Thus, this clinical trial may be the only other thing my dad can try. We'll see what happens.
It is definitely nice to have experience that's useful, not least because I've been feeling rather useless lately. Yes, I know I do Good Works and all, but when push comes to shove, I'm doing almost exactly the same work I was doing in 1986 when I quit my job to go to graduate school. I'm probably making a little more money, but not a lot, and I'm certainly not doing anything now that I couldn't have done then. Yes, the intervening years have provided enough other experience so I'm doing it better, but almost any experience will do that, if you're paying attention. Certainly cheers ME right up to think how I've spent my time and what I have to show for it.
On the other hand, at least I didn't try to sell a Senate seat for whatever I could get for it. I waded through some of the transcript from the press conference that Fitzgerald held this morning, and various other news bits, and it's truly amazing; the guy seems to be a seriously delusional psychopath. Now, it's true that the kind of money he wanted is peanuts compared to what the Wall Street guys take home, but, in my mind, that just shows even more how incompetent Blago really is. (That is, if he were smarter, he could BE one of the Wall Street crooks, but he's only a two-bit political hack.) The other thing, though, is that the Daley machine has learned not just how to keep its own hands clean but also how to pass the patronage around to racial and ethnic groups that once were excluded from city largesse, while Blago is in it for his own profit rather than for patronage or a machine, per se.
Is the Daley patronage machine the best way to run a government? Nope; not by a long shot. I work with city workers on some contracts, and some are competent and some not so much. I did a stop-smoking group with city workers a few weeks ago, and the tales they told in the 10 minutes before we started the group made me annoyed, because it's such a waste of money (and, ultimately, talent, if the cushy jobs are going to incompetent hacks).
But I don't see things changing in this city any time soon, so my desire is that the patronage be distributed reasonably fairly; that competence is a necessity in the places where that matters the most; and that the city provide the basic services (water; firefighting; policing; trash removal; school system; other public services) equitably and competently. If there's a layer of cost on top for patronage jobs, well, okay, just make sure they don't do too much damage or cost too much money, or get in the way of the people who are actually doing the work.
Anyway, the Governor does appear psychopathic: he knew there were wiretaps, fer chrissakes, and he continued to negotiate! He seemed to think he could get away with all of this, which, to my mind, is where the delusion comes in. The transcript of the press conference is interesting (and it makes me lurve Patrick Fitzgerald all the more): Fitzgerald seems truly taken aback by the whole thing, and appalled, not in that Inspector Renault "shocked, shocked" kind of way, but genuinely gaping in wonderment at the chutzpah of the guy.
I don't care how squeaky clean your political arrangements are, we all tend to look more favorably on people who come with a recommendation from someone we know, and on people who have something to offer (though I do mean that broadly, not just in the mutual backscratching kind of way). We do favors for people--hire their sons or daughters, perhaps, or spouses--and expect favors in return. I've never personally been in a position to be on either end of that, but I'm neither surprised nor appalled to know it exists; it's the way of the world, and, like anything else, it can be used for, and can work for, either good or evil. But this shit? This is a whole other level of WTF, so I do hope the guy goes to jail for a long fucking time. If he's guilty, of course.
I spent a fair amount of time today in meetings, or on phone conferences, all of which was tiring and some of which was tedious, and some time on the phone trying to figure out whether my dad should go into a clinical trial. I found the trial, and I think it might actually be a good fit for him, as his bladder cancer keeps recurring and there isn't anything else out there for him, except removing the bladder, which, really, isn't an option that I think he would enjoy. So I've talked my mother through the clinical trials process, and talked to a study coordinator (although not the one with whom they would deal), and I think they're going to go check it out. I emphasized that he doesn't have to agree to anything, that he doesn't have to sign anything, and that they can ask any questions they want, and I pointed out that the drug they've been waiting for (a) still hasn't cleared the FDA, even though their last info suggests the manufacturing difficulties should have been cleared up 9 months ago and (b) only works 20% of the time. Thus, this clinical trial may be the only other thing my dad can try. We'll see what happens.
It is definitely nice to have experience that's useful, not least because I've been feeling rather useless lately. Yes, I know I do Good Works and all, but when push comes to shove, I'm doing almost exactly the same work I was doing in 1986 when I quit my job to go to graduate school. I'm probably making a little more money, but not a lot, and I'm certainly not doing anything now that I couldn't have done then. Yes, the intervening years have provided enough other experience so I'm doing it better, but almost any experience will do that, if you're paying attention. Certainly cheers ME right up to think how I've spent my time and what I have to show for it.
On the other hand, at least I didn't try to sell a Senate seat for whatever I could get for it. I waded through some of the transcript from the press conference that Fitzgerald held this morning, and various other news bits, and it's truly amazing; the guy seems to be a seriously delusional psychopath. Now, it's true that the kind of money he wanted is peanuts compared to what the Wall Street guys take home, but, in my mind, that just shows even more how incompetent Blago really is. (That is, if he were smarter, he could BE one of the Wall Street crooks, but he's only a two-bit political hack.) The other thing, though, is that the Daley machine has learned not just how to keep its own hands clean but also how to pass the patronage around to racial and ethnic groups that once were excluded from city largesse, while Blago is in it for his own profit rather than for patronage or a machine, per se.
Is the Daley patronage machine the best way to run a government? Nope; not by a long shot. I work with city workers on some contracts, and some are competent and some not so much. I did a stop-smoking group with city workers a few weeks ago, and the tales they told in the 10 minutes before we started the group made me annoyed, because it's such a waste of money (and, ultimately, talent, if the cushy jobs are going to incompetent hacks).
But I don't see things changing in this city any time soon, so my desire is that the patronage be distributed reasonably fairly; that competence is a necessity in the places where that matters the most; and that the city provide the basic services (water; firefighting; policing; trash removal; school system; other public services) equitably and competently. If there's a layer of cost on top for patronage jobs, well, okay, just make sure they don't do too much damage or cost too much money, or get in the way of the people who are actually doing the work.
Anyway, the Governor does appear psychopathic: he knew there were wiretaps, fer chrissakes, and he continued to negotiate! He seemed to think he could get away with all of this, which, to my mind, is where the delusion comes in. The transcript of the press conference is interesting (and it makes me lurve Patrick Fitzgerald all the more): Fitzgerald seems truly taken aback by the whole thing, and appalled, not in that Inspector Renault "shocked, shocked" kind of way, but genuinely gaping in wonderment at the chutzpah of the guy.
I don't care how squeaky clean your political arrangements are, we all tend to look more favorably on people who come with a recommendation from someone we know, and on people who have something to offer (though I do mean that broadly, not just in the mutual backscratching kind of way). We do favors for people--hire their sons or daughters, perhaps, or spouses--and expect favors in return. I've never personally been in a position to be on either end of that, but I'm neither surprised nor appalled to know it exists; it's the way of the world, and, like anything else, it can be used for, and can work for, either good or evil. But this shit? This is a whole other level of WTF, so I do hope the guy goes to jail for a long fucking time. If he's guilty, of course.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Another Post About Food
Jesuschristonapogostick.
Yet another outbreak of the What You Eat Is Wrong Wars, over at Twisty's site. Here's the latest comment, as of now:
If you go to the original post and the comments, you'll find a few comments by Yours Truly (though, I guarantee, I'm done with that particular thread). The point, though, is that I am damnsickandtired of hearing how whatever the fuck I eat is Wrong, Immoral, and Not Feminist, Plus Other Species Are The Same As Humans and You Are A Murderer If You Don't Agree.
There are multiple paths, people. I understand the vegetarian argument, and the vegan argument. I do not happen to agree that they are the only moral arguments, but I recognize the spirit behind those arguments and I respect them. Hell, I will even cook by them, if you have dinner at my house. In return, please acknowledge that I have thought about what I eat, and how, and respect my choices as well, and stop regarding my conclusions as the choices of one who is insufficiently evolved. kthnxbye.
Meanwhile, today I edited for awhile, then embarked on a cookie-baking marathon. I redid the almond cookies, except this time I toasted the almonds first. I also reduced the amount of egg whites, because I didn't have quite enough eggs to do everything I wanted to do, but the cookies still came out okay; toasting was a Good Thing. Another white or two would have improved things somewhat, but not enough such that anyone other than me and the Tart and other graduates would have noticed. I reduced the sugar, too, and tried to remember to add some lemon extract but forgot until it was really too late.
I remade the chocolate cookies, and I was less unhappy with them this time. I cooled the chocolate a bit more, and I chopped the toasted hazelnuts a bit more (the original recipe does not include hazelnuts, but I think they make an otherwise very boring cookie much much better), and paid more attention to the shaping, and, all in all, they're much better than the last batch. (Again, mostly to me; everyone else seemed to like the first batch just fine.)
The ginger cookies (a.k.a. Ginger Bites), well, they're still a work in progress, but I'm closer. I left out the chocolate this time, and increased the ginger dramatically (i.e., more than doubled it), and added both orange peel and orange juice, as well as some cinnamon and molasses, and a little more butter. I like the flavor, but the texture still needs a little work.
Finally, I adapted the Cooks Illustrated Black & White Cookie recipe--reduced the butter; replaced the sugar with honey--and added rosemary, lemon peel, and dried cherries. These were a nearly complete success. The shaping needs some work, but I was extremely pleased with the flavor. The flavorings really work well together, and I will make these again.
I had some meditations on whether/how my pastry school and bakery experience has affected my actual baking, but I'm tired and want to sleep, so they'll have to wait.
Yet another outbreak of the What You Eat Is Wrong Wars, over at Twisty's site. Here's the latest comment, as of now:
a deep respect for the animals they hunt and eat
So murder is A-OK as long as you “respect” the person you murder? Care to try that in a court of law? Oh no, of course not, we’re talking about killing “animals” here. Othering is a tried and true foundation for all manner of discrimination. Bravo.
If you go to the original post and the comments, you'll find a few comments by Yours Truly (though, I guarantee, I'm done with that particular thread). The point, though, is that I am damnsickandtired of hearing how whatever the fuck I eat is Wrong, Immoral, and Not Feminist, Plus Other Species Are The Same As Humans and You Are A Murderer If You Don't Agree.
There are multiple paths, people. I understand the vegetarian argument, and the vegan argument. I do not happen to agree that they are the only moral arguments, but I recognize the spirit behind those arguments and I respect them. Hell, I will even cook by them, if you have dinner at my house. In return, please acknowledge that I have thought about what I eat, and how, and respect my choices as well, and stop regarding my conclusions as the choices of one who is insufficiently evolved. kthnxbye.
Meanwhile, today I edited for awhile, then embarked on a cookie-baking marathon. I redid the almond cookies, except this time I toasted the almonds first. I also reduced the amount of egg whites, because I didn't have quite enough eggs to do everything I wanted to do, but the cookies still came out okay; toasting was a Good Thing. Another white or two would have improved things somewhat, but not enough such that anyone other than me and the Tart and other graduates would have noticed. I reduced the sugar, too, and tried to remember to add some lemon extract but forgot until it was really too late.
I remade the chocolate cookies, and I was less unhappy with them this time. I cooled the chocolate a bit more, and I chopped the toasted hazelnuts a bit more (the original recipe does not include hazelnuts, but I think they make an otherwise very boring cookie much much better), and paid more attention to the shaping, and, all in all, they're much better than the last batch. (Again, mostly to me; everyone else seemed to like the first batch just fine.)
The ginger cookies (a.k.a. Ginger Bites), well, they're still a work in progress, but I'm closer. I left out the chocolate this time, and increased the ginger dramatically (i.e., more than doubled it), and added both orange peel and orange juice, as well as some cinnamon and molasses, and a little more butter. I like the flavor, but the texture still needs a little work.
Finally, I adapted the Cooks Illustrated Black & White Cookie recipe--reduced the butter; replaced the sugar with honey--and added rosemary, lemon peel, and dried cherries. These were a nearly complete success. The shaping needs some work, but I was extremely pleased with the flavor. The flavorings really work well together, and I will make these again.
I had some meditations on whether/how my pastry school and bakery experience has affected my actual baking, but I'm tired and want to sleep, so they'll have to wait.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Tonight's Dinner
For tonight's cooking adventure, you'll need a bunch of kale (about 3/4 pound, before cleaning), a can of beans (Great Northern, in my case), a large can of tomatos (Muir Glen organic peeled chopped; fire-roasted would have been fine, too), an onion, some garlic, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. Wash the kale and spin it dry. Heat some oil in a big-ass pan (I use a mondo stove-top stainless steel wok) and throw in the chopped onion. Set another pan of water on another burner at whatever temp you need it to be so it starts to boil in 15-20 minutes. Smash and throw in the garlic with the onions. If you're using fresh herbs, throw them in now, too. (Sage would have been nice, but I didn't have any.) Cook that for awhile, until the onions are soft and starting to brown a little. Chop the kale and throw it in; cook it for 10 minutes or so (kale takes awhile, so you have some time here; it's not like spinach). Throw in the can of tomatos and the can of drained beans, some salt and pepper, and whatever spices you want (I had oregano and parsley) and a splash of vinegar. Let it cook for awhile, basically for the time it takes to cook the pasta, stirring occasionally. Your water should be boiling by now; throw in the pasta. Cut and grate a hunk of cheese (this will go on top of the final product, not in the mix). I also threw in a half a bag of frozen spinach at this point, just because. That batch of vegetables made enough for four sizable servings for me (I portioned and froze the leftovers); you could probably get 5 or 6 out of it, depending on your taste for these things.
But you probably knew all of this already.
As you all know, I have pretty wide-ranging tastes. Nevertheless, I have become enamored of kale, which I probably hadn't had until a couple of years ago, and last night I had beet greens for the very first time. I've also come to like beets way more than I did as a kid, probably because roasted fresh beets are a different thing than canned pickled beets. As for new grains, I had tried quinoa years ago (and liked it, though I don't cook with it much), but hadn't tried to cook farro until I finally found it in the store last winter. (Loved it--can't wait to cook it again.) And I've done more with barley, too.
I don't have a point here, really; I'm just kind of musing on the stuff I eat. What do you eat that is a departure from what you grew up eating or what you used to eat? How did you add this or that to your diet?
But you probably knew all of this already.
As you all know, I have pretty wide-ranging tastes. Nevertheless, I have become enamored of kale, which I probably hadn't had until a couple of years ago, and last night I had beet greens for the very first time. I've also come to like beets way more than I did as a kid, probably because roasted fresh beets are a different thing than canned pickled beets. As for new grains, I had tried quinoa years ago (and liked it, though I don't cook with it much), but hadn't tried to cook farro until I finally found it in the store last winter. (Loved it--can't wait to cook it again.) And I've done more with barley, too.
I don't have a point here, really; I'm just kind of musing on the stuff I eat. What do you eat that is a departure from what you grew up eating or what you used to eat? How did you add this or that to your diet?
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