Restaurant, Japanese Tea Garden, Golden Gate Park, San Francisco
Serenity and miso soup : the restaurant inside the Japanese Tea Garden has a very “Zen” feel.
Stay tuned.
Weekly WordPress Photo Challenge: Escape
May 19, 2013 at 3:28 pm (Food and Drink, Places, Recommended)
Tags: photography, postaday, postaweek, restaurants, San Francisco, Sundays
Graduation Day, Claremont Graduate University
May 18, 2013 at 10:24 pm (Family, Food and Drink)
Tags: California, Events, happiness, Saturdays, transitions
The lawn in front of the Psychology Building
One of the speakers was a woman born and raised in Scotland, who funded a fellowship called “Believe and Dream.” She was hilarious. She had always wanted to get to America, she said, since Scottish boys were none too handsome. Now she lives in Paris. She quoted Anatole France and said she loved his wit.
The Table for Goodie Bags (Handed Out to Each Graduate)
It was chilly in the shade, but hot in the sun.
The reception included a “Candy Bar”! These cookies were absolutely scrumptious!
More of that Fabulous Candy Bar — Self wishes more schools borrowed this idea!
Now self, full to bursting with cookies, champagne, a tremendous lunch, and happiness, will rest for a few hours before meeting up again with son to watch the new “Star Trek” movie.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
A Post About Rabbits
May 8, 2013 at 5:11 pm (Books, Dearest Mum, Family, Food and Drink, Memoirs, Surprises, Weather, Women Writers)
Tags: discoveries, memoir, memories, pets, reading lists
It is chilly inside the house. But if the past few days are any indication, the clouds will eventually disperse and by late afternoon, the garden will be baking in heat. It’s a miracle anything endures through late spring/ summer/ early fall in this place.
Self has Little Heathens: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression balanced on her lap (Seriously, she’s getting sick of typing that title over and over and over, every time she posts about this book. But since she isn’t even halfway — she started reading it last week in Trieste, and has so far made it to p. 136 — she must persevere).
P. 137 is about killing rabbits.
Sole Fruit of Her Loins’ first ambulatory pet was a rabbit named – something or other. Her cousin, a little ruffian named Niko, came over one day, got the rabbit out of its cage and, when no one was home (Dearest Mum was supposed to be baby-sitting but anyone who thinks Dearest Mum can baby-sit is probably living on the moon), strangled the poor little creature to death.
Since Son was absolutely distraught, we got him another rabbit. This one was an enormous and aggressive creature whose pee spray arced for yards.
We finally gave it away and adopted Bella the Beagle, who is still alive today, still sniffing after morsels of food and still coloring our lives with joy.
Eons ago, when self had an artists residency in Mojacar, her favorite thing to do on weekends was to visit the markets in outlying towns. There, she saw rabbits. Many, many rabbits. All in cages. Self did not actually think about the strange importance of rabbits to the villages of southern Spain. Not until the fateful day when dinner was served and it was – eeeek! – rabbit.
Self has seen Winter’s Bone. Although she believes that was a squirrel Jennifer Lawrence was cooking for her siblings, not rabbit, the sight of skinned squirrel must be very similar to skinned rabbit. In fact, you could probably skin them the same way.
And then: Did you know that it takes “at least two rabbits to make a meal” for a family of seven “because there are only three good pieces to each one: the saddle of the back and the two hind legs,” and “rabbits have almost no fat”?
In addition, self realizes that she has the same coping mechanism to stress as a rabbit. Ms Kalish: “We all knew that when a rabbit senses approaching danger, it will frequently freeze rather than run. We also knew that a rabbit will leap forward when it does try to escape.” So, the best strategy is to wait for a rabbit to lunge “forward from its hiding place,” grasp it firmly by the head, then swing it by its hind legs and deliver a sharp whack to the back of its head. Ms. Kalish again: “Rabbits have weak necks. Everyone knew that . . . “
A heartwarming description of how to skin a rabbit follows.
And then a heartwarming description of how to boil a hog’s head.
What is really interesting is that this redoubtable farm woman has her current residence listed as Atherton, California. And has apparently lived to a great old age (92) in spite of apparently daily ingestions of bacon, hog, and other high-cholesterol food.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
No More Blurry Pictures
May 8, 2013 at 1:38 am (Food and Drink)
Tags: photography
Because the camera is new.
New meaning, she bought it a year and a half ago, but couldn’t bear to stop using her old Nikon, which she bought in Hong Kong in 2006. Sentimental value: That was the last time self and Sole Fruit of Her Loins were in Asia together.
But, sentimentality begone!
Well, thank you Venetian thief of self’s luggage.
Now, no more blurry pictures! Forevermore! She opened the box where the new Nikon had been languishing, and tested it out Saturday, snapping pictures of The Man’s culinary wizardry.
Hmm, how wonderful to be able to take sharp pictures without having to lean on some kind of support!
Here is what self cooked for dinner: chicken tenderloins, sauteed in Ponzu sauce (Thank you, Mz Kathleen, for introducing self to the wonders of Ponzu sauce!)
Stir-fried Chicken Tenderloins!
One of the pleasures of cooking at home: having every ingredient at her fingertips!
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
1st Sunday of May (2013)
May 5, 2013 at 6:57 pm (Family, Food and Drink, Links, Movies, Sundays, Surprises)
Tags: discoveries, Filipino food, happiness, Netflix, pets, praise, Sundays
Blustery winds. Even, rain.
Watching “Arbitrage.” That Richard Gere is so smooth. Self can see why the lovely French mistress is so besotted. Unfortunately, things do not remain ducky for long, they never do in a thriller. Who wrote this smart screenplay? Self looks up the information on IMDB. Oh, the movie was written and directed by a twenty-five-year-old named Nicholas Jarecki. Imagine that, dear blog readers. A twenty-five-year-old. And he not only wrote the screenplay, he directed it. Way to go, NJ!
Self went to the Menlo Park Farmers Market and bought cherries and nectarines. When she got home, The Man was gone. She thought he had taken The Ancient One for a walk, as Bella was not in her customary nest in the kitchen. But then she heard a noise in the backyard and when she opened the back door, there was Bella! Wandering forlornly back and forth on the deck! Oh, come in, sweetie! Come in! Self cannot believe this creature is still ambulatory! She is turning 18 this September!
Then, shortly, The Man walked in. Turned out he had gone to the Mexican market and bought five lbs. of tripe: the regular one we usually get, and a thicker kind that he said he wanted to try out.
Pretty soon, this was what was simmering on the stove:
Callos with two kinds of tripe: a specialty of The Man
The full name of the dish is Callos Madrileña. It uses tomato sauce, chickpeas, and chorizo de Bilbao.
Step # 1 is boiling and boiling and boiling. Step # 2 is this:
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
Dinner in a Convent, Trieste Day 1
April 30, 2013 at 7:14 pm (Food and Drink, Places, Recommended, Surprises, Traveling)
Tags: discoveries, humor, indulgences, restaurants, travel
– Larry? – Uso un tono professionale.
– Non diremlo, – l’anticipo lui. – Quando mi chiami “Larry” con quel tono inamidato da neurologa
After two weeks in Italy, self is so genius she speaks Italian fluently.
Not!!!
The above quote is from a book she pulled at random from the shelf in her little apartamento. The book is from Capitolo XII of Henry Denker’s Un Caso Di Conscienza (in all probability, with a title like that, a mystery).
She had dinner (and a glass of red) at a place called Antico Convento, in a narrow alley off the main street. The owner of a pasticerria (She had two chocolate eclairs in lieu of lunch – gaaah, she will be a regular Porky Pig if this keeps up) gave her three restaurant recommendations, but upon seeing the name Antico Convento, self was absolutely tickled and determined that she would have dinner there.
She ordered a Primi Piatti (first course) of soup. The waiter said it was a kind of specialty of the region, called yota. Then, she ordered a main course of pork with porcini. Even though the pasticerria owner told her that seafood was the thing to eat in Trieste, the restaurant was so unadorned that it reminded her of Louie’s in Bacolod. So, since Filipino food is mostly about pork, she decided to try the Trieste pork. Of course, it arrived second, after a HUGE – and self does mean HUGE – bowl of bean soup with sauerkraut (The waiter thoughtfully provided a bottle of olive oil to sprinkle over the soup) and pieces of ham. Oh Mama Mia, self should have restrained herself, she should have known the second course would be unmanageable after the soup, but no. Self plowed through the soup, leaving only two tablespoons at the bottom of her bowl, and then — TA RA! – out came the second course, steaming, piled pork and porcini accompanied by a kind of side dish of sauteed potatoes (Sauteed in bacon, but not served with bacon, the waiter proudly informed self) and it was soooo delicious! Self could hardly see straight after that. She stumbled home, inwardly cursing at how tight her jeans were. At the door to her building, she encountered two young people crouched right before the entrance. Self’s first thought was: Finally! What The Man always warned self to expect: A Proper Mugging!
But no, one of the two young people was a slender young woman, and she smiled at self and said Perdon or Scusi or something like that, and moved about two inches to one side, just enough for self to get her hand on the entrance knob, and give it a good (and somewhat hasty) push, and self nearly fell over a pristine, white baby carriage that looked as decked out as a gondola, and there was a baby inside it, sleeping, and self put two and two together and realized that the baby’s parents were right outside the building, right there pressed against the door, enjoying a few illicit hours of peace in the Trieste night.
Self, you stupid twit, if you’d woken up that peacefully sleeping infant, you’d never have gotten over the shame.
Grazie e Arrivederci, dear ones.
Venice Day 12: The Vaporetto and Saint Mark’s Square
April 29, 2013 at 1:23 pm (Conversations, Food and Drink, Places, Recommended, Surprises, Traveling, Venice)
Tags: Ateneo, coffee, discoveries, happiness, Mondays, travel, Venice
This is self’s fifth cappucino of the day. She’s all wired up. Every time she finds a bar or a café with wifi, she sits down. Of course, when one sits down, one must order. And the cheapest things on the menu are espresso, cappucino, caffé latte. Hence, all the coffee. She won’t be able to sleep tonight.
Saw a man fall off his wheelchair in San Marco. It happened right beside self this morning. She gasped and tried to help him up, but he was at least twice her height. That is, he looked to be about six foot. There he was, lying face down on the rise of the bridge near the Doge’s Palace. Help, help! self shrieked. Eventually, some men came to his aid.
On the vaporetto to Ferrovia (where she bought a train ticket for Trieste), she saw a church. Well, what’s so exciting about that. One is always passing churches on the vaporetto. About one every few seconds. But this church said, OMG:
ad maiorem dei Gloriam (For the greater glory of God)
Which is a quote self remembers hearing quite often from Dear Departed Dad. His professors in the Ateneo had all the students write it on the top of every test and every written assignment. His professors were Jesuit, just like the current Pope.
Self takes it as a sign.
Well, everything these days is a sign (at least, to self).
And here’s what a vaporetto stop looks like when one begins one’s peregrinations early enough in the morning:
One must never even think of coming to Venice in May. Or June. Or July. Or August. Or September. With every passing week – no, with every passing day — there have been more and more tourists. The line to get into San Marco Cathedral is hundreds of people long.
Today, self had more random sightings of Filipinos. The last encounter was with a woman chatting enthusiastically (in Tagalog) on her cell phone. Self approached and asked if the 4.1 vaporetto went to Ferrovia. She pronounced it Fer-ruh-vya. And the woman put up a finger, finished her conversation, rang off, then turned to self and said, in perfect English: “OK, what was your question?” When self repeated it, the woman said. “Yes. And it’s pronounced Fer-roh-vee-ya.” Self’s next question was going to be: “Do you work here?” but the woman didn’t look all that enthusiastic about self having identified her as a fellow Filipina. She scuttled off.
Self is still fascinated by the pigeons in San Marco Square. She remembers feeding them as a child (She was last in Venice when she was 11). Margarita says feeding them is now illegal. But the last couple of days, self has seen dozens of people feeding the pigeons. And no carabinieri in sight.
Anyhoo, she has fun just watching the throngs. San Marco Square always has interesting people, decked out in all manner of clothing. Today she saw a women in a tight, electric-blue dress, families of Indians (all the women wearing saris), and also Asian tourists clicking away. She wanted to ask someone to take her picture next to some pigeons, but after yesterday, when she asked a Chinese couple if they would mind taking her picture and they hurried away from her as if she was contagious, she hasn’t been able to summon the nerve.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
And Still More of Venice Day 11: Fun in Burano!
April 28, 2013 at 10:55 pm (Food and Drink, Places, Recommended, Sundays, Traveling, Venice)
Tags: destinations, discoveries, happiness, photography, Sundays, travel, Venice
Self met these two young women in a restaurant and exchanged stories and contact info.
See, self was hoping the constant moving about would help her lose weight, but she can never lose weight – not, at any rate, in Venice and environs – because the food is just too good! The two young women with self are from China. They both went to France to study (what else?) French and were in Venice on holiday. One of the girls spoke very good English; she told self her father was a university professor in Beijing.
Here’s the dish both self’s new friends ordered: pasta in squid ink! The girls said it was delicious!
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
La Serenissima! Venice, Day 11
April 28, 2013 at 5:26 pm (Conversations, Eavesdropping, Food and Drink, Places, Recommended, Sundays, Surprises, Venice)
Tags: discoveries, humor, Sundays, travel, Venice
The Sweet Shop Around the Corner
Today self thought that she should probably start thinking of things to bring home from Venice. She went into this bakeshop only a five-minute walk from the apartment, and the young salesgirl very eagerly informed self that they have gluten-free products! How fab! That is sure to be a big selling point with American tourists!
And here’s a picture of a gondola stand, which is one of those that are lined up all along the lagoon in front of San Marco Square.
And here’s what everyone is doing in San Marco Square. This Chinese guy, by the way, actually refused when self approached him to ask if he could take her picture! Go figure! He and his wife almost ran from self, as if she was the bearer of some infectious disease! Self should have told them that the reason her face was so red was that she had spent all day exploring the islands of Burano and Torcello!
Filipinos in San Marco Square!
And these were the first Filipinos self has had an opportunity to converse with, since arriving in Venice! She heard them talking about her, using the term “Inchik” (Chinaman/or Chinawoman). So she went right up to them and said, “I am not Inchik! I’m Filipino!” Then self invited them to have dinner with her. True to the pattern of the day, they refused. But not before self was able to worm out of them that they were domestic workers from Milan who’d gone to Venice for the day.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
