august nights and days

You kids keep it quiet out there!

It truly feels like the end of the summer as our nights have cooled and the days are grasping at heat straws.

Somehow on Sunday we ended up entwined in a full day of working around the house. X handled the gardening (she claimed it had been three weeks since gardening happened) and scrubbing of half the house. I scrubbed the other half and spent a good bit of the day in the kitchen doing bread, pizzas for dinner, Romesco sauce, and two dozen handmade éclairs for her workmates. As we were wrapping everything up we took delivery of a massive mahogany dining room table that Corey transported down from New England. (He built it years ago and brought it down to swap out with our mini 6-person table which he then took to N. Park Dr.) We were forced to call in reinforcements for the move being that apparently two dudes at 6’3” and 6’5” (“at a combined weight of nearly 500lbs!”) weren’t going to be able to move the behemoth on their own. No injuries, no damage.

I got the feeling last night that I wanted to wrap up August with a mishmash of music. Here you go.

Chuck Prophet (& The Mission Express) doing Let Freedom Ring!:



Brother Ali doing Fresh Air:



Mark Olson and Gary Louris doing Saturday Morning on Sunday Street:



Michael Franti and Spearhead doing Say Hey (I Love You):

timely? odds?

in session

I’m not a teacher. I have done quite a bit of instruction and training in the military and developed courseware while in the service and in civilian life; I have some idea on how information is absorbed. I have a very spotty academic record over my lifetime: strong in high school, horrible in college in the 1980s, very good in class work over the last decade. I’ve created a little ‘academic’ approach ideal that I gave to L. while she was here and passed along in less depth to some fellow (younger) students at AiW*.

What brings you this post is an e-mail about students and dropping out of school that was sent to Andrew Sullivan from a teacher/professor in California. Anything I might or could say about privilege (I had mine), economic standing, neighborhoods, family life, or learning issues would be mostly anecdotal and no doubt off base. My approach, which is mirrored in the professor’s grading process for remedial courses, is this: 70-80% of your grade is showing up. (I think 70% of life is simply showing up.) Those numbers aren’t necessarily a direct ratio to your can being in a chair, they are a combination of being present in mind and body. Trust me when I tell you that the number of students in my culinary program who routinely miss class is mindboggling: and this is an almost purely laboratory-based program. Also trust me when I tell you that my attending class record during my academic downfall was as bad, if not worse, than what I see now. I guess gray hair and wisdom help. Back to the percentages and what qualifies as “showing up”. Just for a few sentences I’m going to bypass how homework fits into this equation and address the time-and-place portion. If you’re in a class that will be meeting 30 times over a quarter (what I have right now) or 10 times in 10 weeks then your presence, the ‘attendance’ grade, can only be met by you having your sweet ass at class when it’s in session. The byproduct of that ‘attendance’ grade is that if you are there for every session of instruction, and you’re paying attention, you’ll learn the vast majority of what you need to know to pass nearly all of the assessments – and by passing I’m only talking about a number around 70%. With that 70% and your 100% attendance you’ll be just fine when a final grade is publish. (Consider a course where your grade is broken down this way: 25% from attendance and 75% from assessments [quizzes/exams]. If you have 100% attendance and a 70% average on assessments, you’re final grades is a 77.5%; that equates to a C+ on most standard grading scales.) When passing a course and moving along in an academic career is the goal than you’d be hard pressed to find a simpler method than simply showing up to class.

When homework is added to the equation then it simply becomes another cog in ‘showing up’ – a part of attendance. L. had some classes last semester that included one homework assignment every week, due on Fridays. Usually it was a ten problem/question worksheet but could have been a reading assignment that was the basis for classroom discussion (Oh! The attendance issue again). As those weekly chores were added to the grading scale there are severe penalties for not showing up: even at a 10% contribution to a final grade, if you only do half your homework then you’re dropping a half-grade from your final score by simply not showing up: turning in or doing that homework being part-and-parcel to being ‘in’ the class.

My point? Who knows, but it makes perfect sense to me. Why? Well, my Baking and Pastry class – when we are in the kitchen every class sessions – is 30 class dates over ten weeks. Our final grade is based on 2.5% for each class session: showing up, in the correct uniform, on time, and participating. That’s 75% of the final number and if you attend even 28 of those 30 classes (and get the aforementioned 70% on assessments) then you’re a lock for a B+ (87.5% - I won’t do the math again). Even with this knowledge from our syllabus and first night in class, at least half the class will end up with grades lower than what they think they deserve and will try to corner the instructor and ask why they didn’t get an A. And finally, any additional work you do beyond showing up, paying attention, and turning in your homework is simply a benefit and additional ammo if you are looking for a higher grade. Can you miss a class? Sure, but if you do, you’ll have to do twice as much work – based on that miss classes percentage – then you would have had to do if you’d simply showed up.

I’ve gone on long enough. If you got all the way to the end, and read the linked letter, then you’ve shown up and you get an A.

t

*AiW being the Art Institute of Washington. And, the shorter version of my speech is this: “Show up to class, dude.”

spinning angel

Something that I’m not well versed in is cake decorating. I should probably bring that down to a more basic level and say cake frosting – I’m not sure that decorating and frosting are the same things. We’re into cake week at school and I’ve done more buttercream icing prep than I already care to do: Italian buttercream, Swiss buttercream, buttercream buttercream. We’ve done three cakes to go with the buttercreams (and tonight’s ganache): high-yield yellow, orange chiffon, and carrot. Last night was the turn of the yellow with the Swiss buttercream: third-ing the cake and icing it back together in two rounds of mess – it visits the freezer in between sets. We got the full demo on the cake wheel from our instructor who can knock out a perfectly iced cake in about two minutes; we each had our previously baked stumps of cake and buttercream for experimentation. What an unholy mess we created at our team table (of four). You’ve goy spinning of cake plates, eyeballing measurements, dropping of icing, angles of the spatula, more angles of the spatula, keeping your elbow up, spinning of cake plates, scraping, edging, freezing, and repeating. Oddly enough, even with the mess the four of us did alright for a first go-round. Believe me, this was no Duncan Hines yellow cake with tub frosting slapped together for Little Jimmy’s 4th birthday party. Tonight we do the carrot cake and orange chiffon. I promise pictures.

I’ve been pining for a bigger cutting board at home and came across a couple at Eastern Market that craft beautiful handmade boards from Virginia trees. I mentioned this in passing at pizza night a few weeks ago and Corey immediately decided he’d just make me one – being a carpenter-type and all. After some interrogation about patterns, sizes, styles, etc. it appears he’s ready fashion a monster that goes about 55 (!) lbs., just in case anyone is thinking of stealing it. Along with that, or a weekend before, he’s transporting down their dining room table from the great North and installing it in our house whilst taking our 6-person miniature and using it at N. Park Dr. Apparently, and I’m not yet a witness to The Beast, it might seat 10-12 and weigh nigh on a quarter ton. I’ve been put on alert to have neighbors ready to carry this thing because there “ain’t no way two humans can do it.” This should be quite interesting.

I’ve just been called on a mission to stop by home with food for our guest to cook for he and G. tonight. I’ll be in class and X alerts me to her endless work evening. She tells me to get some ‘chops’ and potatoes and Peter will cook them right up for the two bachelors. “What kind of chops? Bone in?” I reply. To which her riposte was a subtle and to the point, “Fuck if I know.” Love that gal.

Adieu.

battles

I was going to kick off the day with some talk about empty Chinese apartments for sale but I’ve moved along. Apparently, there are about 200 million vacant.

Slate.com has done me a favor and posted a piece on Rep. Alan Grayson; aside from my mother and her dog, he may be the only thing I love about Florida. In fact, I think he might represent her down there in the 8th District. I have a longer history with Grayson than most after seeing him work a courtroom in the Custer Battles whistleblower/false claims case involving the CPA in Iraq. Grayson represented the whistleblower in the case and made quick and decisive work of Custer Battles. The Eleven had a ‘court date’ back in 2006 where we watched a portion of the trial – particularly a debate on, and then, the closing arguments – at the U.S. District Court in Alexandria. Grayson eventually showed up again in 2008 when running for the House in his adopted home state of Florida. Grayson’s a progressive Democrat who wrassled away the primarily Republican seat during the onslaught of the 2008 elections. Grayson is pretty much what I want to see in Washington from my side of the issues: I may not agree with everything he supports but I do support most of it. And, he just rolls in, kicks some teeth around, and moves on to the next issue. We’ve long wanted a Dem to show that ability and now we have him – hopefully for many, many years. You ask about his elitist background? Well, here it is…it might help. Man, I hate smart people who earn lots of money. Elitists. If you have a problem with his education and successes then I question your judgement.

Of course, the picture above is how we remember him when he ambled into the courtroom way back in 2006. I want him to go back to the beard and cowboy boots but I guess you have to tidy yourself up if you’re going to represent Walt Disney World.

half baked

I’d say that one-in-four or one-in-five of pizza nights don’t quite work out. Considering that this number translates to a once-a-month, and easily forgotten, failure it hasn’t caused too much misery on The Hilltop. The kids’ pizza is always fine because their bits are a standard set of meat and olives (and mushrooms, of late). The problem is with the weekly veggie offering that can end up as a mismatched mess, or more likely, too dry. What I’d been doing over the last month or so is to take things like stuffed peppers and enchiladas (separate weeks) and constructing them in pizza form. What I realized last night, while eating, was that I should have taken the idea a bit further and into this week. I went with baked eggplant (rosemary, s & p, smoked paprika) over pesto, mozzarella, mushrooms, and garlic. I topped it with a Jarlsberg-like cheese (I actually wanted a Gruyere but failed…) and olive oil: in the end it was way too dry. That kind of cheese with the breaded/baked eggplant didn’t work well – I should have gone the route of turning it into an eggplant parmesan pizza and doused it all with a nice red sauce. Lesson learned.

About a year ago we had the big protest on the Mall. I was working at the LOC on that Saturday and was humbled by the roar of stupidity. I know that sounds harsh but it should be. Riding in on the Metro that morning with that shopping bag of whackjobs may have been the most telling review of American in 2009 (and now 2010). Until now: I was wrong. Enjoy this from DCist.com.

t

hey snakeface! you the devil.

My blog-cation is over. Even though it wasn’t planned, nor announced, for some reason I didn’t have much to pass along during the blast of mid-August weather. Everything’s been quite well here, I’m through my mid-terms, and the final weekend of summer is on the horizon.

Let’s see if I can summarize my positions on the political events of our day.

Build a mosque wherever you please. It’s private ground, it’s a house of worship (a community center with a mosque in it, really) and that right is protected. Any further engagement is folly. If you really want to know why there’s nothing more to say on the matter I refer you to this educational video (please forward to the seven-minute mark): you don’t engage them.



Freedom of speech means you can say whatever you please without government interference. It doesn’t mean you can say whatever you please and not expect backlash from the market, your bosses, and people who don’t like you. A very simple concept.

I think that covers most of it. We can all relax now.

As August wraps up, and a three-day weekend is on the horizon, I’ll spend a portion of the week gathering up all my canning needs and getting ready to do tomatoes next weekend. Last year I ended up with about 25 quart jars from 50 lbs of tomatoes and that didn’t even get us close to riding out the winter. Then again, that took about 12 hours and I’m not sure I’m up for two full days of canning. If nothing else, I’ll manage at least as many as last summer. We’re also awaiting some fig bonanza that one of X’s coworkers has promised from his tree. We may need to drive down with a pile of egg cartons and pluck them ourselves: a fig jamboree on the horizon.

L. may have crossed into Canada by now for a month-long, get settled, and sort out living and school vacation. I believe they’ll make one more round-trip to Omaha in October to gather up remaining items. I’ll talk with her tonight and sort out status and location.

I’ll have some more updates after pizza night…

t

sing along

I have a lot of stuff rolling around in my head.

I have a dream of some project that will marry up some of my favorite songs to some of the art here in D.C. Consider it a podcast kind of thing that can be downloaded for viewing on your computer or added to your iPod for walking around town and thinking of me. It’s probably something that’s too big to get engaged in but I’m going to give it a try. It manifested itself while I was watching It Might Get Loud, a documentary with Jack White, The Edge, and Jimmy Page talking about guitar-ing. It’s a long(er) story of how it developed in my head and that’ll have to wait until I have a good go on the project.

We had dinner last Friday night at the Greek Taverna with the CorKat and enjoyed an outdoor table. They have a trellis (?) / deck cover that has wine grapes growing on it so I inquired about stealing a bunch to start a natural bread dough starter at home: just flour, water, and grapes. The grapes provide the local fungus that gives the starter its lift/yeast but you have to give it three or four days of growth to get it rolling. I’ve been feeding it each morning on the way out the door (30g of flour and 30ml of water) so I suddenly feel as if there’s a dog I must walk each day. I’ll give it another four or five days before making a first loaf and then work/feed it on and off to keep it alive and happy. (It can be refrigerated for two or three days at a time without feeding.) I’ll keep everyone updated because this is surely something that will slide you onto the edges of your seats.

I have my B & P midterm tonight and tomorrow with not much worry: brioche, biscuits, chocolate chip cookies, pie, and yeast rolls. We’ll prep everything tonight and bake tomorrow night. What’s that you say? No laminated breads? Correct. You can’t really ask four-week-in ‘bakers’ to rack out croissants and pastries at a mid-term. My team will do just fine. Did I tell you that we did ballotines and galatines in Garde Manger last week? Don’t see that everyday…

The homestead is still quiet, sans children, so our evenings are at peace.

I could open up a pile of rage at these days’ events but I’ll hold it in for now.

Who needs it?

t

hit run miss

Hit: Getting tickets to see the Avett Brothers in Baltimore in October.

Miss: Adopting some virus that knocked me out for about 36 hours from Tuesday night to early Thursday morning. X took care of me while I stayed home yesterday; temperature taking in the morning, water, tea, lots of ibuprofen on the counter.

Hit: Winning the Avett Brothers lottery after purchasing my tickets and getting bumped from eighth row, right side to front row, dead center.

Miss: Two nights of Baking and Pastry. Truth be told, I didn’t have a whole lot of interest in making apple pie on Tuesday night so I sort of bailed out; virus took me last night.

Hit: Two evenings of not doing much but The Eleven hanging around in a very quiet house with only our time invaded by two ‘cats’.

Miss: Our planned visitor who missed the flight in London and has rescheduled for a few weeks later.

Last Sunday night we had the cabal of visitors over for pizza night and my idea of a stuffed pepper pizza had mixed results (go figure?). This month’s Saveur has stuffed peppers on the cover – as if a Saveur with Greek food as the main topic wouldn’t attract – so I decided to do the roasted/stuffed peppers and actually put them on the pizza over a white sauce, olive oil, and about 2 lbs. of wilted spinach. I came across one of the smaller farm stands at Eastern Market on Sunday morning that was selling some beautiful red and green peppers so I pounced on about a dozen for my experiment. I know a bit about capsicum, I’m no expert, and these looked perfect for the job: I didn’t take pictures and I haven’t looked them up so simmer down. They were a good size, they smelled hot/sweetish, and I had a good feeling about them throughout the roasting/stuffing stage. By the way, once they were done – prior to the pizza being made – they were held until the last 6-8 minutes of pizza cooking time and then dramatically (?) placed onboard. What I ended up with was a pile of stuffed peppers that were too spicy for what I intended. The fix? X pointed out that if you just squeezed out the filling onto your slice and set aside the pepper guts then you got just the right amount of spice, all the stuffing, and your head didn’t explode. I immediately seized on this idea of giving the customer a colorful, spicy, and participatory pizza for their enjoyment. Problem solved. Tasty across all categories once my devilishly genius idea was set in motion…or discovered.

t

ultimate failure

I've played a bit of Ultimate in my youth - circa early 1980s when I was young, in shape, and could run forever - and in the summer of 2007 when I played here in the WAFC novice league. The difference between playing at 18 or 19 when the game was pretty wide open and at 42 when the game has developed more strategy and planning was amazing. I hurt, literally hurt (ribs, toes, shoulders, etc.), for six months after the season finished and wondered if I could manage to get myself in better shape to play again. I haven't. I would like to play again next year but I have a bit of challenge getting back to even 2007 shape. We'll see. Anyway, what brought this up was a video I saw from the 2010 World Championships in Prague...an amazing catch. I have a few from my days that I thought were comparable to anything that could be done but I was just kidding myself. These guys are Open/Pro teams and their skills are way beyond anything I ever accomplished. This catch, at least the video (there may be some legendary catches not caught on tape), is the most awesome catch I've ever seen.

I came home today to discover another Vitantonio Belgian Waffle iron on my doorstep...I know, this is my fifth. (In my defense, I've given two away as gifts.) One of my double-barreled setup lost its legs about a year ago and even as I've managed to survive waffle mornings, I wanted another. I actually snagged this one for $9.99 on eBay which is some kind of record - I've lost out on bidding wars that hit $35. X laughed at me as I unpacked it and added it to my countertop that includes the KitchenAid K4-B mixer: two things no longer produced that kick some serious kitchen ass. She might wonder about me but amidst her laughter at my peccadilloes, she opened up a package that contained four extras belts for our new vacuum cleaner...who's crazy now?

An update on school: we are doing "sandwiches" in Garde Manger this week and I've followed up on the plan put out there earlier in the week. I'd planned out my time today to get both the rye and white bread made in class so they'd be ready for tomorrow's plating (note: we had loads of bread delivered on requisition for sandwiches but I still wanted to do as much from scratch as possible.) Having moved through breads in B & P I was ready to redeem myself from week 1....as if. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, the ovens in this kitchen (my first course in this fourth set-up) are absolute crap. My breads went into a '375' degree oven that only heated to about 225; something I discovered when I went to check my 'finished' rye about 25 minutes later. That doesn't work...if you must know. Both loaves has no rise and were basically wasted from perfectly well-proofed dough. I've break this mother yet....

Hey to all.

t

light-and-fluffy action

“…in which the zeal to render a verdict was only matched by the zeal to ignore all evidence.”

That’s a line pulled from a TNCoates entry today. It can apply to virtually anything in today’s America – it applies to race for him today – and is a phrase to keep in mind through every discussion we engage in on a daily basis.

He closes with this….

“Talk is overrated. There can be no talk with people who've conditioned themselves out of listening. This is the country we've made. This is the country we deserve.

On a lighter note, we are doing enriched yeast breads and laminated breads in Baking and Pastry this week and I want to sincerely pass this along to whoever invented handmade croissants: piss off. Seriously. As with anything in the baking realm I know it’ll take time and practice to master the technique but this process is just a colossal pain. I plan on doing some baking at home on Sunday (and a batch of croissants are on the agenda) so I’ll give everyone a photo documentary of the process. In Garde Manger this week we’ll be doing open and closed sandwiches and for now I’m working on a homemade aubergine pickle and cheddar grilled sandwich, a somehow doctored Rueben (a call out to my home state’s invention), a Ploughman’s (consider it a deconstructed sandwich), and an altered lobster roll. Between the team we’ll sort out the final choices and present them during Saturday afternoon’s class. If you have any groovy ideas, pass them along…

If you must know, we did a Stallone v. Schwarzenegger action actor showdown at work over the last days. Using ten pictures/series for each, Arnold won 5-4 with the last point being vacated due to both of the movies being so bad by the time we got to the tenth faceoff. The difference was the True Lies v. Tango & Cash tilt.

so it passes...

Those snaps are X's shade garden along our front walk: May (when planted), June, and July. Quite nice. I took the final picture today as she finished up an afternoon's work in the oppressive swamp heat; and, just before a typhoon-like thunderstorm hit town. I haven't been as habitual with the back shade garden, the veg, or the pumpkin/squash patch. What I can tell you is this: a small deer, who's encountered Pumpkin during a witnessed standoff, has been nibbling on the squash blossoms and my lovely is about ready to get a shotgun and campout on the porch...just waiting and whittlin' and waiting. She did point out, just after her veiled threat, that 'squash blossom-fed venison' might be the hippiest meat you could sell.

We hit D.C. last night for another show and a pre-theatre dinner at Comet Ping Pong. I'd gotten the recommendation from my Mom and after a few weeks it finally aligned for a visit. The pizza is excellent (we had the Softie and the Blossom with smoked mushrooms sub'd for the ham) and both were worth the wait. Speaking of the wait, it was crowded on a Saturday night but we managed to get a bar table that suited us fine. The bartender/waitress got our beers right quick, I went to the bar to order the pizza so as to help out the situation, but we ended up waiting 40 (?) minutes for delivery. Considering they make all the pies individually - including the crust prep - it's understandable on a busy summer Saturday night. But, if that's the norm then management needs to sort out either a better process or get better dudes manning the ovens. Just about any wait will be forgiven to some extent if the product excels, and it did. The prices are a bit steep for the type of joynt - running $50 with tip for the two individuals pizzas and two beers; $38-$40 would seem a bit more reasonable. Overall, I recommend it for no other reason than the pizza crust and great selection of toppings. If you have your heart set on playing some ping pong with the crowd, drinking beers, and hanging out...don't go on Saturday night. The crowd is truly a family set and it's much like what you'd expect in 1977 at a Shakey's pizza in Omaha. I'd imagine that the crowd turns a bit later at night and during the week it might seem more bar like.

After dinner we shot down to DuPont Circle to see Noises Off! at the Keegan. This one takes some patience to develop as it's the first act of a play within a play that's done thrice: first from the front of the house at dress rehearsal for an opening; the second act is about a month later from behind the stage; the third, another month later again from the front of the house. There are loads in ongoing romantic relationships, bad acting, and farce going on that it becomes a bit of comic genius, particularly during the second act. For an opening weekend it was quite polished and enjoyable - and a huge bravo to the cast and crew for working such an active play in a quite warm Church St. Theatre. In particular, Michael Innocenti and Susan Marie Rhea who are probably my two favorite Church St. regulars: they stood out in the heat and comedy.

L. headed back to Omaha on Friday - sans her braces which were removed Thursday - so the house is empty. I don't have my pizza-making assistant for the first time in six months so that's a bit sad. We'll see how her life develops over the next few weeks and where she might end up in the fall.

t

digital garden

I’m not the gardener on The Hilltop but I long ago placed an order with my gardeness that would entail getting rid of the grass and doing a natural garden/native grasses property. I have issues with lawns but I guess if you have kids that like to play in the yard then feel free to carry on. Of course, the number of kids I see actually playing on the lawn might total one or two every year or so. There’s a piece in the WaPo today (with a slideshow) about folk up Maryland-way (just over the District line) that have gone the route of garden vice grass and they look like ideas that are right up my alley; or, at least along the lines of my work order.

A few weeks ago Prince pointed out that the Internet is dead, or useless, or losing it’s mojo. Actually, it was a diatribe partly on music distribution and partly on its influence. I laughed it off as Prince playing his games again and didn’t think about it again until earlier this week. A quick hit from Prince:

The Internet’s like MTV,” [he} said to The Mirror’s correspondent. “At one time, MTV was hip, and suddenly it became outdated.”

My position would substitute “full of use” for hip and “full of crap” for outdated. I had a hard time explaining this in conversation so typing it will be harder. I think the quantity of great stuff the Internet does (research, ordering products, music distribution, publishing, etc.) is growing everyday. But, the percentage of that good is being outpaced by the giga-acres of useless, time wasting, pointless junk (this blog might be a case in point). There’s a bit of a parallel between the Internet now and TV in early ‘90s when we started to hit triple digit channels. What we seem to do nowadays is to start online with the intention of checking in with family and friends (e-mail, Facebook), getting the news, reviewing sports’ scores, and ordering some rugs; suddenly we’re sucked into watching YouTube videos of a kid hitting his dad in the junk with a whiffle bat, a sloth playing a Gretsch, or two episodes of Cops on Hulu.com. I understand that one man’s junk is another man’s gold but my somewhat considered position is that the amount of ‘value’ time spent online vs. the amount of junk time is something like 1:10. Not much different than when you finish watching your favorite TV show and all of a sudden you’re snoring on the couch, in your underwear at midnight, with Telemundo playing on your eleventy-billion inch plasma donor TV. Think about it.

I’m running L. to the orthodontist in a few hours to get her braces taken off. I think I’ll pop some corn tonight and we can sit on the couch and watch some TV….or surf the Web.

Love to all,

T

starting points II

Truth settlement

* skip down to the asterisks if you desire to bypass my rantings…

I had a discussion in class last night with someone who was pontificating on the environment, organic stuff, and how there’s no way the cows could be causing problems. “The cows! Seriously? That’s so funny…”, he put forth before I joined in whilst mopping. I asked him if he knew why the science people discussed cows (and factory farming, etc.) as a problem but he just stared at the wall. I asked him if climate change was an issue since he’d just announced that it was “just a theory”. Nothing. I pointed out that there aren’t any serious scientists who debate the existence of climate change/global warming but there is certainly an array of opinions on how the make-up of causes can be applied. Whether you fall in the category who think 50% of the issue is man-made or the group that feels <5% of the problem is man-made, the problem is still present. There isn’t a valid position that pits all or nothing against the other. And this leads to the follow-on problem: those who know we influence our environment and those that deny that connection. For me, it comes to this: you are free to not like science and you are free to ignore it. What you aren’t free to do is actually deny it. The best parallel I can come up with is smoking. If you smoke then you know it’s bad for you. We all know it’s bad for you. It’s science. If you want to smoke then by all means blaze up and burn ‘em. But, you can’t be standing outside (in the smoking area) on your soapbox denying that smoking isn’t bad for you. Period. Stand there like a man and say, “I know this’ll take years off my life and cause loads of health issues to the day I die but I don’t care.” To that I say, well done. For those that aren’t onboard with attempting to hold the line or reverse our use of resources, you’ve got this that you can freely quote, “I know the science says this is some pretty bad stuff but I don’t give a shit.” At least I can then peg you into the right hole and not waste my time or money trying to change you. Easy peasy.

***************************************************

There’s a behemoth multi-stage piece in the WaPo this week about the military/industrial/government/national security complex that I don’t have much interest in reading. It seems to be all the talk around town and the coffee area because it simply feeds more nutrition into the confused lives of our huge population. Another pylon to support the badge-wearing, business casual tribe’s gabfest that centers on themselves; even if that wasn’t its goal.

My co-“worker” and I headed down into Vienna over lunch to checkout recumbent trikes and I decided to swing by my favorite bakery for sandwiches. As expected, a stunning smoked salmon offering and a side order of a pistachio/chocolate canolli, which I hadn’t had before. Amazing stuff. Oh, and a ciabatta for dinner panini tomorrow night. My canoli mastery needs a lot of work. As it was slow toward the end of the lunch rush I managed to have a little talk with the owner about coming in to do an externship in the fall. He seemed pretty cool with the idea and told me to email him in September. Time or hours wouldn’t be a problem since I found out he runs the place 24 / 7 to keep up with his demand. The potential, for me, is huge on this one. His huge selection of handmade, artisan breads is as good as any bakery you’ll find anywhere. If I could spent 10 or 11 weeks working with him and building on what I’m learning this quarter I’d be simply ecstatic. As the summer rolls on I’ll keep everyone (?) posted.

needs another weekend

It was an interesting and packed weekend.

I have class on Saturday afternoon this quarter, from noon to 5pm, so that cuts a large swath from in the middle of the day. At least I don’t have to be there at 8am and it doesn’t infringe on our evenings. As the kids have (or will soon) departed it’s only the two of us in the house; she can come in with me if need be and do some work at her office. My Saturday (and Friday afternoon) class is Garde Manger so it covers mostly cold dishes like sandwiches, banquet food, appetizers, fancy stuff, etc. To open the quarter we made loads of bread (baguettes, rye, and whole wheat) to freeze and store for use over the next few weeks as we create various canapés and whatnot. Unfortunately, I’m just now beginning Baking and Pastry (Monday – Wednesday evenings) so I was trying to learn and follow along with my teammates: big mistake. Everyone in my class has already had Baking so I figured they’d have some basis for production even if it had been a few quarters ago (there is one guy is quite excellent). As with most things, don’t get too comfortable assuming knowledge resides in anyone’s bean. Of course, we are doing all these breads in Baking over the next three days so my own experience will greatly improve. Our product came out poorly, at best. I might knock out a few extra loaves of each in the bake shop so I can carry them over to the other class.

After wrapping up on Saturday afternoon, the 61 went to dinner in D.C. and then to see One Man Lord of the Rings at Woolly Mammoth. Both of the girls are big Ring fans so I figured they enjoy one guy, dressed only in a jumpsuit and wearing a microphone, running through all three movies in a bit more than an hour. It was very enjoyable, even for a non-Tolkien-only-mostly-seen-the-movies-and-never-read-the-books chaperone. I pointed out to both of them after the show that the movies seemed to me to be mostly marching, running, fighting, and horns a-blowing; when reduced to an hour you’d surely discover that I was mostly correct.

I tried to engage X on what she thought the civil engineering/scheduling plan might be for the Orange line and new Silver line Metro trains once they hit East Falls Church station. She actually left the room mid-query to show her waning interest in that conversation.

The 51 hit Eastern Market early yesterday morning and were enveloped in a heat index of over 90° at 9am. We did stop for crepes before making a few passes through the flea market, art/craft/creation stalls (I’ve now narrowed down my cutting board desires) before gathering up our ingredients in the food hall. We ended up with quite a crowd at The Hilltop for Sunday pizza night last night so I had execute some deep mathematical formulae to figure out if I had enough pie to cover five adults and four children. We managed.

default position

With class kicking off I’m again in the midst of a herd of students, and most instructors, that have an irrational hatred of ‘organic’, ‘vegetarian’, and ‘sustainable’ products or menus choices. I find it beyond strange that people who are a part of the industry – and those desiring a place in it – are so set against some things that I find to be a clear starting point for humans. I guess there are two things that bother me, the first being the organic and sustainable battlefield. Putting aside our issues with labeling and whether or not something is actually what it claims to be (that’s a whole separate problem), isn’t the opening position that the ingredients and final products that you eat should be natural? Doesn’t common sense say that the slow food movement that Alice Waters jumpstarted in the 1970s is the best way to cook and eat (by the way, she and the movement aren’t vegetarian.) If presented with a choice between fresh produce from a local grower and produce from Chile, nothing against Chile, which would we grab? If given an option between a slab of meat taken from an animal that was raised up the road on a local ranch, and that lived a normal live and wasn’t jacked up on chemicals; or, a hunk of meat from a hormone- and antibiotic-laden animal driven 2,000 miles before and after slaughter, which would you choose? Let’s start there.

Unfortunately, the visceral gag reflex when the issue is broached is this: “That’s all bullshit. There’s nothing better about it.” How does one get to that position? I have a few ideas. The first is a political spectrum stance: in spite of what is clearly a basic ideal – eating better food – they see it as coming from the “hippies” and “liberals” who are obviously trying to trick them into becoming gay, paying more taxes, teaching art, and becoming vegans. The second is some deep-seated belief that if I don’t want altered food, whether chemical of genetically modified, in my diet then I don’t believe those farming techniques have some place on the World. Of course, both of those premises are wrong but it won’t matter because there’s no listening to reason. Not only do they spew vile, they actively search out food and ingredients that are full of crap. Seriously, they do. What adds to this tomfoolery is the follow-up accusation that says because I choose to eat more foods that are local and not filled with junk that I’m somehow fighting against them. First, I’m not. I don’t care if you want to eat crap, at all. And, don’t conflate my food choices with the far away issue of how food is regulated and marked: in the end, that’s just lazy talking. If you fell like you’ve been duped by labeling, the USDA, the FDA or any other method of guidance then you’re just passing the buck. And finally, even if I decide that I want to become a lobbyist to make the system more healthful and local then wouldn’t I simply be working towards making sure ingredients and the final product is better? What, exactly, is the problem with that default position?

Vegetarianism. This is what sort of got me rolling today and I’m curious as to why is suddenly popped up at the blog as I started school again. Anyway. There are loads of reasons why people choose to either eliminate or reduced their intake of meat. Believe it or not, it’s not a reflection on anyone else. It’s a choice and the method of arriving at that choice has nothing to do with what a chef instructor or fellow student might think (in my case.) What gets read into it is a sense that because I’ve made a choice it means that I’m applying that reasoning to you, when in fact, I don’t give a crap about what you like or dislike. Do I eat meat when I’m in class? Yes. Do I taste stuff at home that I cook for the kids? Yes. Do I eat a lot of meat? No. But even my position, which began on the health front and then added in the ethical/animal part, is questioned as some alien form of life. In fact, what it becomes is some premise that is attacked via the same “That’s all bullshit…” argument from above – as if there’s any need for me to defend food choices.

I’m rambling. I have more. I’ll let it go. It may not be wholly thought out but it’s my blog and I’m not too much into numerous rewrites and edits.

Class update this weekend.

choices choices

I meant to post this over the weekend but didn’t get around to it while in amongst my chores and airport transport duties. Both WonderTwins are back in a town; a bit tired but probably somewhat recovered by this morning.

This is a piece that came from my co-worker who enlightens me on game theory and probability on a twice-daily basis. I thought about it long and hard over the weekend and the premise is one of the best ideas about our future selves. I used to simply think of my future self as having gotten the bed ready for bed by about 5pm. In it’s entirely (p.s. his Web site on sport and probability can be found here.):

______

As I’ve mentioned before, I believe one simple way to model success in life is by how long one’s time horizon is.

The crack addict lives minute to minute.
The obese live meal to meal, snack to snack.
People on a credit card debt treadmill live paycheck to paycheck.
People saving up for a down payment on a car are thinking ahead in terms of months.
The more responsible among us are saving for our retirement and our kids’ education. They are thinking in terms of a lifetime.

Obviously, reality is not quite so simple. People need to have a mix, sometimes thinking about the next meal, sometimes thinking about saving for the future. It’s part of the general ability to delay gratification—the Marshmallow Test.

Getting metaphysical for a moment, you can think of your future-self as a different person from your present self. This sort of makes sense in terms of physics. If x, y, and z are dimensions of the universe, so is t—time. A person in a different t, say 3 months in the future, could be thought of as a separate entity just as if someone else were currently standing 3 feet to your right.

Okay, so we can play the Prisoners’ Dilemma game with other people in the present. I can cooperate and you can reciprocate, and we both benefit in this non-zero-sum world. Consider the same PD game, but instead of two different players in the present, think of it with the two players being yourself and your future self. (Bill and Ted allusion, anyone?) When I forgo the cheesecake after dinner, or when I put $500 in savings instead of buying an iPad, I am ‘cooperating’ with my future self.

The main difference between the conventional PD game and the future-self PD game is that your future-self cannot reciprocate. Time is uni-directional. He cannot respond with altruism of his own toward your present self, nor can he punish your present self for ‘defecting’ against him. As a result, we often tend to treat our (future) selves very poorly, perhaps worse than we would treat other people. In fact, I am procrastinating with my own work right now, but I’d be far more reluctant to pile extra work on someone else’s shoulders. As another example, there are moral taboos toward saddling other people with debt, but there is no moral prohibition on saddling yourself with debt. Or similarly, if I every time ate ice cream it made my daughter put on weight, I’d rarely do it. (And if she could reciprocate I’d be a blimp.)

I think if we think of our future selves as a separate person, someone who is a helpless victim of our present decisions, we might treat ourselves better. Just your random thought for a Friday.

“Listen to this dude Rufus, he knows what he's talking about. “
“Right. Oh, and Ted, give my love to the Princesses.”

sizzle

Right. I'm a cooking show addict

I've watched two episodes of the new Top Chef (D.C.) after missing the first five or six seasons. That's no big deal, in the end, because it's not Gordo or Jamie. Anyway, on to Padma. I've known of her for years but this is the first real 'interaction' I've had with her and let me say this - boring as a doorknob. Is that harsh? Maybe. She's an unbelievably attractive woman but if I had to spend more then ten minutes talking to her I might just walk away. Then again, I'm in the midst of the Angelina Jolie piece in Vanity Fair and there's a difference. Now I sound sexist. Great. I'll move along… Wait, not yet. I also think Tom Colicchio is a bit of a blowhard. Sorry. He appears to have some skills and coming from a Ramsey guy I guess I might sound ironic…or moronic. The problem with him is that he doesn't actually seem to be trying to make x or y better, he's just a asshole. Ramsey is an asshole but you can see his angle on anger. Just putting that out there

"They didn't have time to cook a bag of beans?" - Colicchio.

Yeah, they didn't…in 45 minutes. What a guy

One of the guest judges was the chef at Zaytinaya here in D.C. He was the only dude up there that wasn't posing and tatted up. Why? Because if you've been to Zat then you know he has nothing to worry about. Great chef

Man, I sound (and probably am) like a whiny little thing

What I've learned thus far in this third career of mine is this: you are what's on the plate. How you walked in, what you think of yourself, your ego…gone. Your plate. Your choice. Your life

p.s. If you're fan of Tom Colicchio, or Tom Colicchio, I don't want to hear it. Write your Congressman

peace.

quiet on the front

Dog days of summer.

Not much to report even if I feel like I should be diving into heavy topics. They’re just not there.

I will link to this awesome set of photos done by Andrew Zuckerman and included in a piece at The Telegraph. That hawk is stunning…as are the rest.

Actually, I do have something to speak of, all of a sudden.

I was rambling over to the Sunday (London) Times to catch up on my AA Gill restaurant reviews and I see that Armageddon has finally arrived: cost subscriptions on-line. They are now charging $4 per week (£2) for access to both the daily Times and the Sunday Times.

I had a much longer addition to this subscription idea, nothing against it, but I think I’ve covered that territory before. It’s coming.

t

summer-y

We ran our two-day drive back from Vermont and rolled into the area about 2 pm yesterday afternoon. The day’s start from Middletown, NY was early enough that we beat the evening Holiday traffic and got home with little interference. Of course, we were greeted by the lovely 100°, swamp-like atmosphere of the greater DC Metro area. Hey, at least it’s only supposed to be this unbearable for four days, or so.

Stowe was fantastic for the week: we had a little rain early, cool days mid-week (highs in the mid-60s to mid-70s), and a bit of heat to finish. We covered plenty of swimming (including the boys in the nearby, crystal clear river), plenty of great food, some family visits, the day trip to Burlington, a bit of shopping, lots of visits (L.) to the new handmade chocolate shop, the annual golf in miniature championship, the first annual river Duck-gatta race, an evening of Pitch Penny, and numerous crossword puzzles. The only portion of the week that wasn’t perfect was X having to do quite a bit of telecommuting work. Of course, the highlight was clearly on Friday when my duck entry, Nut1, successfully navigated the river to win the inaugural race and I then doubled up by winning my first golf in miniature title. It’s not often that one sees success at that level.

The boys were left in western Mass with their grandmother and will return tonight via the airplane invention, X leaves for England tomorrow to attend a wedding, and I’ll hold down the fort until her return. She gets back on Sunday and the boys then depart for England on Tuesday for the summer with their father. It’s going to get real quiet, real fast around The Hilltop (L. leaves on the 23rd).

Both cats have returned home since our arrival – as if Pumpkin would go far. He bounded in about 8pm last night and had quite a bit to say once he saw our shiny faces. Lemon pounced on our bed at about 2am last night to announce her presence with authority and pass along her distaste for our vacation.

All of X’s gardens have survived our absence with the help of watering family members. We even have a full-sized squash that’s ready to be plucked.

That’s the down-and-dirty for now.

t