I am glued to a traditional Tibetan stove. The stove is fire-fueled and boasts three different types of pots and cookware. A large round pot holds warm bitter tea. It's one of three sources of warmth on this crisp, dark evening. The second is Ama's smile. I think I'm smiling at her too much, but I can't help it. She possesses a rare warmth that exudes from her eyes, her smile, and is most potent in her laugh. Her face, weathered and strong, sits above fantastically colorful clothing full of reds, oranges, and turquoise-blue. Her band-aid-ed hands suggest a culinary prowess that is perhaps slowed by age. She notices that I've taken a sip of my tea, and brings over a large ladle to refill the few sips missing. It is rather bitter tea.
In the room with me is a cat, that I'm sure is actually a dog--it begs like a dog, it wants attention like a dog, and it eats like a dog, devouring hunks of hard Tibetan bread. Two of Ama's grandchildren are also in the room: a 4-year-old who has the energy of...a 4-year-old, and a 10-year-old with a goofy grin. Earlier, the 4-year-old was showing me his super-duper-light-up sword. I must have killed him a dozen times. He seemed to want to learn some of the English alphabet, but really desired to call every letter "A, B, C" over and over. We also played what seemed to be his favorite game of all: crawl on the laowai (foreigner).
The third source of warmth in the room is the walls. Four walls and the ceiling have been hand painted with bright designs. A landscape of Lhasa's Potala Palace adorns one of the walls. The swastikas on the walls give me pause, even though I know they were Buddhist first. The warmth of the walls, Ama's presence, and the stove are well-appreciated by my tired body.
Today started at 5:30AM, after going to bed a bit too late. I wore the latest in traveler fashion: a large puffy coat, sweat pants, hiking boots, a large pack, and a goofy grin: never leave home without it. At the bus station, I boarded and picked a seat. I fought the urge to get off and pee, a decision I would regret. Two hours into the bus ride, I pulled out my Chinese-English dictionary looking for 'bathroom' in desperation. Luck was on my side, the bus pulled over as I found the word. I sprinted to the restroom and as I exited a man gestured for me to pay. I gestured "how much?". He held up a finger. Sir, I would've paid you so much more. Two hours down; around eight left.
I returned to my seat next to 'morning breath'. Maybe she was a very sweet girl, but she kept positioning her mouth in such a way that no matter how I moved, her breathe flowed right into my nose/mouth. After peeing however, and finding myself in a far better mood, I smiled at her. Which ended up insuring that every time the bus stopped, she would politely let me pass.
At the edge of the Chengdu basin, we tunneled through mountains. The route to Jiuzhaigou snakes through mountain passes and valleys, while climbing and climbing. Hairpin turn after hairpin turn left my stomach turning down my offers of food. The river, which started off quite murky, changed to blue-green and became more and more beautiful as we drove. Eventually we were soaring though a plateau at an elevation close to 4,000 meters. We climbed away from the plateau and crossed the 4,000 meters mark in six inches of snow! The bus stopped to put on its chains and the rest of the journey was a lot slower as we descended down 2,000 meters.
The scenery on the journey was breath-taking (or perhaps the lack of oxygen). The windows prevented good pictures, but I am left with wonderful memories. The snow-covered pine trees, mists, and small stone towns were out of this world, and thus, obviously, Narnia.
Eventually, the bus driver called "lao wai." I guessed it was my time to get off. I found myself across from two big advertisements in a thin mountain pass. I called Zhou Ma, the host of the home-stay, and found my way (with the help of a too eager cab driver) to the family's Tibetan restaurant.
Zhou Ma, who speaks a bit of English, warmly greeted me. She is Tibetan, but wears trendy clothing which reveals her youth. Her brother takes me to Ama's, where I will stay. He wears a fedora, likes music, and is very smiley. We take his jeep off the main road, and up a very very narrow 'road' to Ama's. Tibetans, and thus prayer flags, are everywhere, including the entrance of the house.
Dinner is served soon after I arrive and is a bit of disappointment. The yak meat is tough and not very flavorful and the spice offered to dunk the yak meat in is a bit too much. The potatoes, however, are a real treat. I learned later that they are "the best potatoes in years". Had I possessed more self-awareness, I may have realized that the reason the food didn't taste too good may have been because I wasn't feeling good. Two hours after dinner, that self-awareness came as I vomited the contents of the day into their Western toilet.
I hadn't thrown up in years and was surprised by how easy it was nowadays, as compared to the stomach flu days of my youth. Of course, with my Mom 10,000 miles away, I finally chose to follow her advice and breathe deeply and relax. My task completed, I returned to the warmth of the room and gestured what had happened. Ama returned with a vile of brown liquid after gesturing a bus turning a lot. I drank the contents of the mysterious liquid. She gestured that I'd wake up tomorrow feeling better. I hope so. I hope that it's just bus-sick and not altitude sickness. I have never been 4,000 meters high until today, nor have I even slept at 2,000 meters. Thus this weekend would be the highest I had ever lived.
The calmness I felt while sick alone in a place where no one speaks my language showed me that I possess some strength. Is this why I travel? For a chance to prove myself strong?
Thoughts written down, stomach calm, I decided to get some sleep. The electric blanket and the heaps of other blankets made for a cozy nest, even if the room temperature was quite cold. After I was settled in bed, my roommate showed up: Eric, a PhD candidate. From California originally, he had made Switzerland his home for the past 10 years. We chatted for a bit before sleep.
Though I didn't sleep much--my stomach kept refusing to lie comfortably in any position. When I can't sleep, I use to freak out about not sleeping. But in college I came to realize how stupid that is: it's very hard to fall asleep when you're stress yourself out. So nowadays, I just relax and think that at least I'm resting if not sleeping. I find this increases my chances of falling asleep sooner.
I awoke feeling still a bit out of it, but decided, after a quick breakfast of a fried egg, Tibetan bread and honey, and yak-butter tea, to go ahead with my plan of exploring Jiuzhaigou. The yak butter tea was interesting. As Eric warned, it tastes a lot better than it smells. With chunks of nuts, yak butter, sugar, and tea, it was an exotic blend of flavors. Each sip improved its taste, and eventually I was sipping it happily.
It had snowed and the whole landscape had been transformed into a winter wonderland. As it rarely, if ever, snows in Chengdu, I was bent on seeing snow during this break and thrilled at my good fortune: not only had it snowed, but it was a blue-sky sunny day!
Zhou Ma's brother picked me up and drove me, Kerrin, and the two boys. Kerrin is a Dublin bloke who has been working at the park, helping with their Eco-Tourism as well as translating. He pointed me to the front entrance when we arrived. I paid for the entrance ticket (100RMB for 2-day in winter) and a bus ticket (80RMB/day).
Jiuzhaigou is Narnia. Of this I am sure. Vividly-bright blue waters, sweeping waterfalls, and peaks reaching out towards the sun. I explored the park with the help of a map from a German-South African couple. The crisp air and the sun started making me feel better. I munched on some honey and bread from Ama and a very wrinkled apple, siting and soaking in my view: mineral-colored water with a backdrop of snow and peaks.
The upside of Jiuzhaigou in winter is the absence of people. There are plenty of pictures of the National Park in other seasons with people shuffling on boardwalks, no space to breathe. The downside in winter is that they park staff are lazy (or not there) and as the admission is cheaper, they don't pay anyone to clear much of the paths (or just don't do it). Fine by me with my hiking boots, but because many Chinese tourists refuse to wear anything other than high heels (even up mountains), much of the park is closed off with "Fire Danger" signs. I was temped to jump signs, but everything that I wanted to see what open, just not the paths between, so the bus ticket was very handy.
Jiuzhaigou gets its name from the nine (jiu) Tibetan villages in the valley. They somehow escaped much of the Han people for many years and are now protected as they are in the National Park (and a major course of tourism). My second day in the park found me touring with Eric, Anne, and Sarah. Anne, a senior at MIT, and Sarah, her sister on a gap year before U of Chicago, were exploring China together. Sarah had been in class in China in the fall and was finishing her Chinese adventure. I could not believe a Vassar grad, PhD candidate, a future MIT grad (and Md), and a U Chicago future student had found each other in this place! Granted Eric's PhD was about Jiuzhaigou, but still, what are the odds? They all spoke Chinese, pretty fluently, which made me not feel left out, but driven to learn some more Chinese.
We toured much of the same sites I'd seen before (as with winter closing, there just isn't as much to do). But the lighting was different and the company was nice. Our first stop, a big lake, proved to be a chance to Macgyver. Anne dropped her lens cap (of a very nice camera) into the frozen lake. The boardwalk was a ways above the surface, but I happen to posses these crazy-long-arms. With the help of an umbrella and the combined weight of Sarah and Eric on my legs, I was able to scoop up the lens cap on the umbrella and save the day! If that didn't work, we did have a piece of gum. Anne had given up on the lens cap after she dropped, but once we started trying to help, we all knew it had to happen. I still can't believe it worked as my arm was just long enough to barely touch the ice with the umbrella. Needless to say I got a wonderful ab workout as I braced myself from falling into the strange mineral water.
After another beautiful day, the four of us headed back to the restaurant where we ordered yak meat baozi (round steamed dumplings). The yak meat was out-of-this-world good. After a long day walking around, and feeling much better with a returned appetite, I savored each bite.
On the bus the next morning, I thought about what a wonderful weekend I had. After all the stress of grading, parent-meetings (where 7 of my 30 students' parents showed up), it was nice to escape to such a wonderful place. I'll never forget the morning of my second day as I watched and photographed Ama call her sheep from a few houses over. They walked down the road to her. No dogs, no aggravation, nothing. Just well-trained sheep. Thinking back to the day I sheep-headed in NZ until I was hoarse, I was beyond amused by the Tibetan way: so simple, so effective.
The bus ride back was shorter and I felt much better, though at that 4,000 meter mark I did try to remain super hydrated. If you ever find yourself in Sichuan province or Chengdu, going to Jiuzhaigou is a must. Not only is it a world-heritage site, but it really is a magical place. Though, you may only need the two to three days recommended in summer crowds! And you must stay at Zhou Ma's Homestay. It was 180RMB/night, but in includes breakfast, dinner, light lunch, and transportation to and from the park and help with buses. It's about 30 US, so really, it's a steal considering your lodging becomes part of the reason for going.
Man, it's nice to be on break!
Showing posts with label Eat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eat. Show all posts
Monday, January 30, 2012
Friday, December 9, 2011
August in December
Hello. It's been far too long. I've learned a lot in these past weeks.
#1. Thanksgiving can happen in China
Thanks to everyone's efforts, I found delicious food twice with good company. I successfully Skype-d my family, and everything seemed grand. Oh, and I saw the pandas. The Chengdu Research Breeding Pandas and they pose for pictures, or so it seems. The weekend and the self-reflection that followed gave me a lot to be thankful for....and then the week that followed was just shit.
#2. Adults can act like colleges students.
Maybe I was naive to think that everyone older than me is wiser than me. And no, I'm not saying I'm wiser than them, but last week was difficult at work. Things do seem better now and I think most of the problems stemmed from outside stressors on everyone. But, some things happened that made my think--haha, what else is new. And I started realizing that maybe, just maybe, I've pretty much grown into the person I'm going to be for the rest of my life. Someone open to a life out loud. Sure, unexpected life events could alter me, but my core, the part that I call me, seems pretty whole. And you know what? I'm really starting to like that person--I've never spent so much time alone. This makes me even more thankful for having the family and friends that I have; and of course, the teachers! My colleagues are for the most part, wonderful, they just all have the same quarks that I recognize in my much friends. Guess those quarks, and my own, may also stay with us.
#3. Maggots suck.
Not for the faint of heart. Poor Cynthia has a few creatures coming into her place (same building as me) and after two weeks of fighting, she is moving. Still in my area, which is exciting to hear. I feel bad for be as she is quite phobic of the maggots. Then again, I don't know anyone who enjoys the company of a maggot. She's been so stressed mainly due to the language barrier. And I understand. It's really frustrating when one can't communicate to someone else. She can move Sunday, so hopefully all will be better.
#4. China lacks insulation.
Something I thought when I got here, but just like NZ, China lacks insulation. Which I now know as it's a bit chilly out and inside. I have heat pumps in three rooms; and a gas burner and toaster oven in the kitchen. Thank goodness I'm from Chicago(land). It won't get below freezing, but heating here is terribly inefficient. And has a side effect of MOLD, which I just discovered and irradiated this morning. I rarely use my heat though as it's costly and hey, why use the extra energy.
#5. My body can handle hotpot.
Chengdu is famous for its hotpot. Imagine a big bowl set in the middle of a table, with a burner underneath. Now fill that bowl in your mind with water. Add many red hot Chengdu peppers; then add in Chendgu peppercorns, you know, the kind that numb your mouth because they contain opioids. Now, get a small bowl and fill it a quarter of the way with oil. Add copious amounts of salt and MSG (both better than none) and some garlic and chives. Then panic as you realize how many peppers are floating. And that's a hotpot.
So there I was last Saturday night with Jerry, a new friend and his friends (all Chinese, all speaking Chinese) around two hotpots. Waitresses would bring us sticks of food ranging from quail eggs, squid, chicken, to strange vegetables, tofu, and more. Someone would put them in the hotpot and then we'd chat (or more listen if you happen to have a very limited knowledge of Chinese). Then someone would remember the food and sticks upon sticks of food would be removed. Using chopsticks, I removed the food from the stick into the oil bowl and then into the mouth. I was worried, like usual, about eating hot food, but guess what? It was delicious. I mean, really good. I wasn't sure exactly what I was eating (which I'm almost use to by now) and it was all pretty good. And not too spicy, though I probably blew my nose maybe 100 times. Needless to say, I left feeling very clear headed.
I asked them if they eat it often. They don't--it causes acne. Which of course makes sense as there's oil in the hotpot and a BOWL OF OIL where you dip it in. But it was good and I was so very proud of my stomach and taste buds; they're finally starting to give in!
#6. August is good.
Jerry, my new friend (gosh it feels like kindergarten to say that: "Hey mom, this is Jerry! We color together, he's cool") But he is cool. He runs August, a coffee shop that opened in...wait for it...August! They actually serve real coffee, really slow, but hey it's China and coffeehouses aren't big here. Tom showed me the place a while ago, but I'm finally getting out more.
Jerry is very sweet as are his girlfriend, partner, and partner's girlfriend. On Monday of this week, I hung out at August for a few hours learning some Chinese from the four of them. Last Saturday I went with Cindy and Jerry to hotpot, which was followed by truth or dare in a Sichuan tea house, where they serve Jasmine tea -- the only thing I've ever been allergic too.
But I digress, August is cozy. The people are nice and this weekend I might try to help Jerry figure out August's future; it's not doing to well business-wise...because it's coffee! We'll see!
#7. Biking is good.
I have a bike now. It's red. Jerry just lent me a helmet, which after raises the seat (by buying a longer seat stem) and adding a new lock makes my bike ride-able. Riding it this week to work is a rush. But so far, no accidents, just got stuck once in the middle of the road with a bus plowing at me, but I evaded well. I'll be safer now that I've learned green traffic lights can sometimes go straight to red (there is no yellow, the green just blinks, but at this particular intersection it blinks only twice).
#8 Chinese is hard.
But harder still is the discipline to practice.
#9 Teaching.
I've learned heaps, but will save it for an entry of it's own. I did survive my first principal review though. Not bad, for not teaching training to speak of!
I've almost finished decorating my apartment and making it feel like home. As I've been here 9 weeks now, I feel I need to finish this weekend. I bought spare sheets for my extra bed as I had some guests, Daniel and Sarah after a rockin' night out in Chengdu. Daniel and Sarah teach here as well; both from the UK. Daniel works in our school sometimes, which is how we met. So I'm trying to finish setting-up and need to start thinking about my three weeks off and how/where I'm going to spend them. I hear it's pretty miserable here in Chengdu weather-wise.
Also on my wish-list is re-caulking my kitchen. I bought the caulk today (or really adhesive--no caulk gun required) and a razor blade. Gosh I came home and you would've thought I was a kid on Christmas. Immediate I ran for the kitchen (like 2 feet from the door) and tested out the razor blade and started removing some old caulk before realizing I had to finish lesson plans. The goal of this little project is to stop water from dripping down the back wall of the kitchen and making my humid apartment wetter. Clearly I'm excited. Clearly it's bed time.
#1. Thanksgiving can happen in China
Thanks to everyone's efforts, I found delicious food twice with good company. I successfully Skype-d my family, and everything seemed grand. Oh, and I saw the pandas. The Chengdu Research Breeding Pandas and they pose for pictures, or so it seems. The weekend and the self-reflection that followed gave me a lot to be thankful for....and then the week that followed was just shit.
#2. Adults can act like colleges students.
Maybe I was naive to think that everyone older than me is wiser than me. And no, I'm not saying I'm wiser than them, but last week was difficult at work. Things do seem better now and I think most of the problems stemmed from outside stressors on everyone. But, some things happened that made my think--haha, what else is new. And I started realizing that maybe, just maybe, I've pretty much grown into the person I'm going to be for the rest of my life. Someone open to a life out loud. Sure, unexpected life events could alter me, but my core, the part that I call me, seems pretty whole. And you know what? I'm really starting to like that person--I've never spent so much time alone. This makes me even more thankful for having the family and friends that I have; and of course, the teachers! My colleagues are for the most part, wonderful, they just all have the same quarks that I recognize in my much friends. Guess those quarks, and my own, may also stay with us.
#3. Maggots suck.
Not for the faint of heart. Poor Cynthia has a few creatures coming into her place (same building as me) and after two weeks of fighting, she is moving. Still in my area, which is exciting to hear. I feel bad for be as she is quite phobic of the maggots. Then again, I don't know anyone who enjoys the company of a maggot. She's been so stressed mainly due to the language barrier. And I understand. It's really frustrating when one can't communicate to someone else. She can move Sunday, so hopefully all will be better.
#4. China lacks insulation.
Something I thought when I got here, but just like NZ, China lacks insulation. Which I now know as it's a bit chilly out and inside. I have heat pumps in three rooms; and a gas burner and toaster oven in the kitchen. Thank goodness I'm from Chicago(land). It won't get below freezing, but heating here is terribly inefficient. And has a side effect of MOLD, which I just discovered and irradiated this morning. I rarely use my heat though as it's costly and hey, why use the extra energy.
#5. My body can handle hotpot.
Chengdu is famous for its hotpot. Imagine a big bowl set in the middle of a table, with a burner underneath. Now fill that bowl in your mind with water. Add many red hot Chengdu peppers; then add in Chendgu peppercorns, you know, the kind that numb your mouth because they contain opioids. Now, get a small bowl and fill it a quarter of the way with oil. Add copious amounts of salt and MSG (both better than none) and some garlic and chives. Then panic as you realize how many peppers are floating. And that's a hotpot.
So there I was last Saturday night with Jerry, a new friend and his friends (all Chinese, all speaking Chinese) around two hotpots. Waitresses would bring us sticks of food ranging from quail eggs, squid, chicken, to strange vegetables, tofu, and more. Someone would put them in the hotpot and then we'd chat (or more listen if you happen to have a very limited knowledge of Chinese). Then someone would remember the food and sticks upon sticks of food would be removed. Using chopsticks, I removed the food from the stick into the oil bowl and then into the mouth. I was worried, like usual, about eating hot food, but guess what? It was delicious. I mean, really good. I wasn't sure exactly what I was eating (which I'm almost use to by now) and it was all pretty good. And not too spicy, though I probably blew my nose maybe 100 times. Needless to say, I left feeling very clear headed.
I asked them if they eat it often. They don't--it causes acne. Which of course makes sense as there's oil in the hotpot and a BOWL OF OIL where you dip it in. But it was good and I was so very proud of my stomach and taste buds; they're finally starting to give in!
#6. August is good.
Jerry, my new friend (gosh it feels like kindergarten to say that: "Hey mom, this is Jerry! We color together, he's cool") But he is cool. He runs August, a coffee shop that opened in...wait for it...August! They actually serve real coffee, really slow, but hey it's China and coffeehouses aren't big here. Tom showed me the place a while ago, but I'm finally getting out more.
Jerry is very sweet as are his girlfriend, partner, and partner's girlfriend. On Monday of this week, I hung out at August for a few hours learning some Chinese from the four of them. Last Saturday I went with Cindy and Jerry to hotpot, which was followed by truth or dare in a Sichuan tea house, where they serve Jasmine tea -- the only thing I've ever been allergic too.
But I digress, August is cozy. The people are nice and this weekend I might try to help Jerry figure out August's future; it's not doing to well business-wise...because it's coffee! We'll see!
#7. Biking is good.
I have a bike now. It's red. Jerry just lent me a helmet, which after raises the seat (by buying a longer seat stem) and adding a new lock makes my bike ride-able. Riding it this week to work is a rush. But so far, no accidents, just got stuck once in the middle of the road with a bus plowing at me, but I evaded well. I'll be safer now that I've learned green traffic lights can sometimes go straight to red (there is no yellow, the green just blinks, but at this particular intersection it blinks only twice).
#8 Chinese is hard.
But harder still is the discipline to practice.
#9 Teaching.
I've learned heaps, but will save it for an entry of it's own. I did survive my first principal review though. Not bad, for not teaching training to speak of!
I've almost finished decorating my apartment and making it feel like home. As I've been here 9 weeks now, I feel I need to finish this weekend. I bought spare sheets for my extra bed as I had some guests, Daniel and Sarah after a rockin' night out in Chengdu. Daniel and Sarah teach here as well; both from the UK. Daniel works in our school sometimes, which is how we met. So I'm trying to finish setting-up and need to start thinking about my three weeks off and how/where I'm going to spend them. I hear it's pretty miserable here in Chengdu weather-wise.
Also on my wish-list is re-caulking my kitchen. I bought the caulk today (or really adhesive--no caulk gun required) and a razor blade. Gosh I came home and you would've thought I was a kid on Christmas. Immediate I ran for the kitchen (like 2 feet from the door) and tested out the razor blade and started removing some old caulk before realizing I had to finish lesson plans. The goal of this little project is to stop water from dripping down the back wall of the kitchen and making my humid apartment wetter. Clearly I'm excited. Clearly it's bed time.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Johnny's Easy 36-step Pumpkin Pie
You will need:
sugar, salt, spices, eggs, pumpkin, spices, evaporated milk, shortening, milk, SPICES, water, patience, support of a friend, pandas, wax paper, skinny-fondant rolling pin, mother, e-mail, grocery store, yoga mat, Family Guy, spring-form pan, toaster oven, a sense of humor, a sense of hope, determination, anger management, spices, time, to be in China, and a therapist on call.
Step 1. E-mail mom to obtain recipie
Step 2. Realize that you forgot to e-mail for crust
Step 3. Spend 30mins google searching "Cross-the-bowl strokes" "boiling water" and "shortening" and other phrases you can pull out of your sleep brain
Step 4. Find potential crust recipe
Step 5. Realize that you're out of flour
Step 6. Return with flour, and a yoga-mat.
Step 7. Procrastinate making the crust (seriously?)
Step 8. In a much-to-small bowl, combine boiling water, shortening, and a tablespoon of strange vacuum-sealed milk; make sure to spill much of the contents on the counter
Step 9. Add 2 cups of partially-maybe-kinda sifted flour; make sure to cover previous spill with layer of flour.
Step 10. Chill the dough while watching Family Guy.
Step 11. In that same too-small bowl, combine very coarsely grained sugar (as it was the most identifiable as sugar) with salt, and vast amounts of cinnamon, ginger, cloves and additional pumpkin pie spice.
Step 12. Beat two impossible to crack Chinese eggs and stir in the spice mixture and pumpkin
Step 13. Gradually add evaporated milk, but not all of the can because it's too big. But first forget it's too big, and then suddenly remember before it's too late. This will make your pie experience more exciting.
Step 14. Roll out hopefully chilled dough with a tiny fondant-sized rolling pin. Roll it out very very very wide as the pumpkin pie dish is a spring form pan on wax paper.
Step 15. Somehow perform an amazing feat of flawlessly putting the crust into the pan
Step 16. patch up all the holes in the crust with reserved dough.
Step 17. Continue to patch up more holes as fears that it will never be able to served start flooding your mind.
Step 18. Pour pumpkin pie mixture into crust.
Step 19. Put pie into toaster oven, slightly pre-heated.
Step 20. Turn down toaster oven temperature after ten minutes.
Step 21. Notice steam/smoke from excess oil dripping from greasing the pan.
Step 22. FREAK OUT!
Step 23. Be reminded from a friend that it's just a pie and calm down...
Step 24 ...but only on the surface; remain anxious insdie for the next 2 hours as the pie slowly cooks
Step 25. turn on the top of the oven to "de-jellyfy" the top.
Step 26. TURN OFF THE TOP; the pie is souffle-ing!
Step 27. Leave kitchen and swear at the pie
Step 28. Return to kitchen and apologize to the pie
Step 29. Start decorating apartment to get mind off pie.
Step 30. Forget about pie
Step 31. Remember the pie, run into kitchen, and insert knife into pie.
Step 32. Contemplate worshiping the toaster oven as the knife comes out clean
Step 33. Safely remove the pie
Step 34. Try to explain to said friend that you didn't overreact at all during the past 4 hours.
Step 35. Bring pie to Thanksgiving potluck the next day and return with half of the pie! Consider anger management for rage that NO ONE seemed as excited about the pie, but instead remember that there is now more pie for you.
Step 36. Enjoy delicious pumpkin pie!
Please note: making this pie without a toaster oven outside of China will not properly generate all of the necessary emotions required to fully enjoy eating the pie.
sugar, salt, spices, eggs, pumpkin, spices, evaporated milk, shortening, milk, SPICES, water, patience, support of a friend, pandas, wax paper, skinny-fondant rolling pin, mother, e-mail, grocery store, yoga mat, Family Guy, spring-form pan, toaster oven, a sense of humor, a sense of hope, determination, anger management, spices, time, to be in China, and a therapist on call.
Step 1. E-mail mom to obtain recipie
Step 2. Realize that you forgot to e-mail for crust
Step 3. Spend 30mins google searching "Cross-the-bowl strokes" "boiling water" and "shortening" and other phrases you can pull out of your sleep brain
Step 4. Find potential crust recipe
Step 5. Realize that you're out of flour
Step 6. Return with flour, and a yoga-mat.
Step 7. Procrastinate making the crust (seriously?)
Step 8. In a much-to-small bowl, combine boiling water, shortening, and a tablespoon of strange vacuum-sealed milk; make sure to spill much of the contents on the counter
Step 9. Add 2 cups of partially-maybe-kinda sifted flour; make sure to cover previous spill with layer of flour.
Step 10. Chill the dough while watching Family Guy.
Step 11. In that same too-small bowl, combine very coarsely grained sugar (as it was the most identifiable as sugar) with salt, and vast amounts of cinnamon, ginger, cloves and additional pumpkin pie spice.
Step 12. Beat two impossible to crack Chinese eggs and stir in the spice mixture and pumpkin
Step 13. Gradually add evaporated milk, but not all of the can because it's too big. But first forget it's too big, and then suddenly remember before it's too late. This will make your pie experience more exciting.
Step 14. Roll out hopefully chilled dough with a tiny fondant-sized rolling pin. Roll it out very very very wide as the pumpkin pie dish is a spring form pan on wax paper.
Step 15. Somehow perform an amazing feat of flawlessly putting the crust into the pan
Step 16. patch up all the holes in the crust with reserved dough.
Step 17. Continue to patch up more holes as fears that it will never be able to served start flooding your mind.
Step 18. Pour pumpkin pie mixture into crust.
Step 19. Put pie into toaster oven, slightly pre-heated.
Step 20. Turn down toaster oven temperature after ten minutes.
Step 21. Notice steam/smoke from excess oil dripping from greasing the pan.
Step 22. FREAK OUT!
Step 23. Be reminded from a friend that it's just a pie and calm down...
Step 24 ...but only on the surface; remain anxious insdie for the next 2 hours as the pie slowly cooks
Step 25. turn on the top of the oven to "de-jellyfy" the top.
Step 26. TURN OFF THE TOP; the pie is souffle-ing!
Step 27. Leave kitchen and swear at the pie
Step 28. Return to kitchen and apologize to the pie
Step 29. Start decorating apartment to get mind off pie.
Step 30. Forget about pie
Step 31. Remember the pie, run into kitchen, and insert knife into pie.
Step 32. Contemplate worshiping the toaster oven as the knife comes out clean
Step 33. Safely remove the pie
Step 34. Try to explain to said friend that you didn't overreact at all during the past 4 hours.
Step 35. Bring pie to Thanksgiving potluck the next day and return with half of the pie! Consider anger management for rage that NO ONE seemed as excited about the pie, but instead remember that there is now more pie for you.
Step 36. Enjoy delicious pumpkin pie!
Please note: making this pie without a toaster oven outside of China will not properly generate all of the necessary emotions required to fully enjoy eating the pie.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
the title
Now that I've slept for a bit longer I can explain the title.
Eat, Pray, Teach is yes, an homage to Eat, Pray, Love, which was a great book before it's film counterpart. I first saw the trailer for the movie while abroad in New Zealand and I bought the book once home. It was a quick read and after spending 4.5 months "studying" in a foreign country, this book filled me with desire to go abroad as soon as possible.
Eat.
Food is an important part in my life. Raised on homemade dinners and desserts, I have an appetite for fresh, flavorful food. And prefer it to be made with love. This love of food prompted my summer plan of farming in upstate New York on an organic farm. Access to fresh herbs, fruit, vegetables, meat, and eggs is wonderful. Chengdu, China is provincial city of the Sichuan Province where their food is the fame of China (or so they say here). It is a spicy cuisine rich in flavor. The locals swear by spicy's power to cure any ailment. My first bites of slightly spicy food were wonderful. Full of new flavors that my taste buds savored. While here in Chengdu, I hope to work on my spicy tolerance and document my foods. I am silly for leaving my camera behind when I sampled rabbit among other delicious meats and veggies.
Pray.
Chengdu is an important city for Buddhism, at least according to my travel guide and is also the birthplace of Taoism. Many Eastern religious traditions have interested me for quite some time and I hope to learn much more about them while here. However, the pray will most likely refer to the prayers I send to myself. Without a higher deity, these prayers will be to myself. Constant reassurance that I can do this. This goal of studying Eastern prayer and praying will hopefully build more self-love, something that can be hard to hold on to while growing up. Just think back to when you were five with that confidence to do anything, say anything, be anything? What happened to that? Exactly. Perhaps I'm on a quest to rediscover the five-year-old.
Teach.
Although Liz Gilbert ended her story falling in love in Bali, I highly doubt this will be the course for me. Instead I would rather focus on teaching and being taught. I seek to learn much about China and to speak Chinese. As a teacher, I will be teaching AP Psychology. Though I will also be teaching them what Americans are like. The teacher part of my job will probably be the most challenging as I have no prior experience. But I am open to life and willing to try. I will also be a counselor, helping the students work on college things. The details are not all fleshed out, but this will also be an area of teaching. Education has been at the forefront of my life for most of it and will continue to be, even in China.
Thus I hope to Eat new foods that may scare me with their spice and origin, Pray away self-doubts, and Teach psychology and the small bit of wisdom I know while learning in return what others have to offer.
Eat, Pray, Teach. Could be fun, eh?
Eat, Pray, Teach is yes, an homage to Eat, Pray, Love, which was a great book before it's film counterpart. I first saw the trailer for the movie while abroad in New Zealand and I bought the book once home. It was a quick read and after spending 4.5 months "studying" in a foreign country, this book filled me with desire to go abroad as soon as possible.
Eat.
Food is an important part in my life. Raised on homemade dinners and desserts, I have an appetite for fresh, flavorful food. And prefer it to be made with love. This love of food prompted my summer plan of farming in upstate New York on an organic farm. Access to fresh herbs, fruit, vegetables, meat, and eggs is wonderful. Chengdu, China is provincial city of the Sichuan Province where their food is the fame of China (or so they say here). It is a spicy cuisine rich in flavor. The locals swear by spicy's power to cure any ailment. My first bites of slightly spicy food were wonderful. Full of new flavors that my taste buds savored. While here in Chengdu, I hope to work on my spicy tolerance and document my foods. I am silly for leaving my camera behind when I sampled rabbit among other delicious meats and veggies.
Pray.
Chengdu is an important city for Buddhism, at least according to my travel guide and is also the birthplace of Taoism. Many Eastern religious traditions have interested me for quite some time and I hope to learn much more about them while here. However, the pray will most likely refer to the prayers I send to myself. Without a higher deity, these prayers will be to myself. Constant reassurance that I can do this. This goal of studying Eastern prayer and praying will hopefully build more self-love, something that can be hard to hold on to while growing up. Just think back to when you were five with that confidence to do anything, say anything, be anything? What happened to that? Exactly. Perhaps I'm on a quest to rediscover the five-year-old.
Teach.
Although Liz Gilbert ended her story falling in love in Bali, I highly doubt this will be the course for me. Instead I would rather focus on teaching and being taught. I seek to learn much about China and to speak Chinese. As a teacher, I will be teaching AP Psychology. Though I will also be teaching them what Americans are like. The teacher part of my job will probably be the most challenging as I have no prior experience. But I am open to life and willing to try. I will also be a counselor, helping the students work on college things. The details are not all fleshed out, but this will also be an area of teaching. Education has been at the forefront of my life for most of it and will continue to be, even in China.
Thus I hope to Eat new foods that may scare me with their spice and origin, Pray away self-doubts, and Teach psychology and the small bit of wisdom I know while learning in return what others have to offer.
Eat, Pray, Teach. Could be fun, eh?
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