Awww....Family

I just had lunch with my aunt and uncle. They're in area, visiting from Idaho. It was *so* nice to spend time with family. Sometimes living so far away from the people I grew up with is so unbearably lonely, so it's just nice to be near them. Thanks, Uncle Mark and Aunt Meg! You made my day/week/month/year! Honestly!

So I've Got My Holidays Confused? Big Deal...

I know it's almost HALLOWEEN, but I've got CHRISTMAS on the brain.

Among other things, my grandma was a great crafter. I remember spending hours and hours in her tutiledge as a child, watching as she carefully assembled beaded and sequined ornaments. I probably fried some serious brain cells as I remember getting contact highs off the fixative she used for attaching figurines to interesting found-objects (perhaps the part of my brain that was meant for simple mathematical computations?). Her greatest accomplishments were, without a doubt, the stunning ornaments she created.

Every Christmas for as long as I could remember, all of her seven grandchildren got to choose one ornament each. The selections reflected the taste of each child, and changed as we grew up (I have a fair collection of cutesy pom pom-bears and the like). After she passed away, my aunt went through the remaining collection of my grandma's ornaments, and divied them up between families. My mom graciously added hers to the bevy, and my siblings and I spent a Christmas vacation going through them, remembering whose was whose, fighting over the choicest, and dividing up the rest.







I love the ornaments so much that I've always had some around, regardless of the season. In college, I had the beaded angels she made hung around my dorm room. At the condo, I would hang them from the ends of the curtain rods, and from a hook suctioned to the kitchen window. I even have one hanging from the credenza of my desk at work. Since I'm still in the very early stages of actually decorating our house (because, you know, there are so many cosmetic issues we need to fix before we can actually think through what we want the house to look like), I haven't gotten much opportunity to decorate, let alone provide a special space for a selection of ornaments. All but one of the hanging artwork in the house uses nails that were already there when we moved in, and I put those up because I was so freaking sick and tired of looking at nails in a bare wall (they're all hung too high, but I don't want to do anything about it until after we paint). Still, I've managed to find a home for at least one ornament.

For the first two Christmases after we divided up the ornaments, we didn't have room in our condo for a full-blown Christmas tree. I followed my sister's lead and wrapped the banister of the stairs in garland and twinkle lights, and hung the ornaments from there. This approached looked pretty, and I left them up for as long as I could (I swear they didn't stay up until late January because I was being lazy--I really like them, and with them on the banister like that, it doesn't scream Christmas in the same way that Christmas trees scream Christmas).

I can't wait for Christmas this year! We've got the *perfect* place for a tree! And it's gonna be PURTY.

Disclaimer: the photos in this post were taken with our old camera last Christmas, and it was on its way to meet to the Reaper. That's why the shots are blurry/grainy.

The Post, Wherein the Whitey Attempts Vietnamese Cuisine

John's oldest sister, My, makes this abso-freaking-lutely delicious soup for every fall/winter family function. As with most Vietnamese dishes, it's simple, understated, and yet so totally crave-worthy it's addicting. John says it's called Soup Mon Cur (that's how I hear it when he says it).

So lately, I've been craving the soup, and with it finally cooling down here in sunny Southern California, I've been on a soup-making kick. I've asked My for the recipe before and she's always told me she's happy to show me how to make it, but, alas, it has yet to happen...personally, I think she's taking a page out of the Crack Dealing for Dummy's manual and keeping me coming back for more by not making it easy to score some on my own.

But! I'm a resourceful addict, and after Googling "Soup Mon Cur" I figured that it's actually spelled "Sup Mang Cua" and there are several recipe variations floating around on the net. I used this one, from a lovely blog called Wandering Chopsticks. The author has nice picture to go along with her recipe, as well some cultural perspective which my whitey-ways cannot match. John's sister uses boiled, peeled and canned quail eggs rather than chicken eggs, and leaves out the le petit corn (also known as corn on the cob for gnomes), but the rest seemed similar enough.

I was describing the recipe to my mom when I called her last week, and she agreed that it sounded de-lish, so I told her I'd relay the recipe if it turned out well.

Guess what?

It did, and I am!

So, here's how I made the soup (incorporating what I remember of My's recipe, and Wandering Chopstick's tutorial):

(2) 1quart containers of chicken stock (low sodium preferred, though not required)
(1) bunch of asparagus, stems and all
(2) can crab meat, drained *and/or* (1/2) lb imitation crab meat (for some colour)
(3) Eggs (substitute quail eggs for an elegant soup...unfortunately, they're insanely hard to find 'round here, and I busted my butt thoroughly looking through the shelves of three different grocery stores)
Smidge of Fish Sauce
(~1) Tbsp Corn Starch (or tapioca powder or rice flour)
(~1) cup cold water
LOTS of ground black pepper
Salt to taste

First, I started off by emptying the chicken broth into a large stock pot. I set the stock on medium high heat, and started cutting the asparagus.

John's sister meticulously juliennes her asparagus stems, so I decided to do it her way. Cut off the woody ends of the asparagus stalks--about 1" is usually fine. I spent--not kidding you--thirty minutes julienning those suckers. I reserved the tops of the asparagus, because that's what My does, and gathered up the stalks into a container to set aside.
Once the chicken broth reaches a comfortably slow boil, mix the cornstarch/thickener and cold water together, and slowly pour it into the broth, stirring as you go. The amount of cornstarch/thickener you use is dependent upon how hefty you want your soup...My's is fairly thin, so a Tbsp worked fine for me.

If you decide to use both real crab meat and K-rab meat, combine them in a bowl, breaking the K-rab up into smaller pieces.
Stir the crab/k-rab into the soup base.

If you feel like a particularly kind soul, allow your kitty to consume the left-overs from the can/bowl. (And then make some excuse as to why the floor is so dirty, and the base boards look like they're smeared with bug guts)
Taste the soup, and add fish sauce to taste--we don't like it super duper heavy, so I just added two splashes and that was enough. Fish sauce is pretty pungent stuff for Whities, but it's pretty good if you don't know what it is. If you don't like it at all, go ahead and skip it.
If you were lucky enough to snag some quail eggs, drain them and add them now. If you're a lamer like me and you weren't able to find them despite trolling Vons, Trader Joe's and Ralphs, crack open some eggs. I had to use Regular Eggs.
Wandering Chopsticks recommends lightly scrambling them in a separate dish before furiously stirring them into the base; I just cracked them one by one over the pot and furiously stirred as I let them slowly drip from the jagged shell. Believe it or not, I'm an excellent Egg Cracker and rarely ever get shells in my eggs, so I've gotten in the habit of audaciously cracking eggs directly into the main bowl/pan/pot/dish without cracking them into a smaller bowl first. Yes, I'm that cocky. Remember to stir furiously!
At this point, it was still a bit before John got home for karate, so I put the base on to simmer, and read some. Just before he got home, I added the asparagus. Since the asparagus was julienned, it cooked quickly.
Add salt and pepper to taste--the soup is really good with a heavy portion of black pepper, so we heavily peppered ours (just like My!). The Wandering Chopsticks recipe calls for white pepper (which I didn't have), but I think black pepper will work, too.
Divy up the goods, pepper to taste, and enjoy!
For a White Devil, I think I did a pretty darned good job.
(My's is still better)

The Eighth Plague, SoCal Style

Locusts are fine and dandy, but flies are much more Southern California appropriate.

I first noticed the damned dirty flies Saturday evening when I was rinsing a glass. There were about 5 of them sitting on the basil and mint leaves growing from my swanky AeroGarden, which sits on the alcove behind the kitchen sink. I figured the damned dirty flies were laying their eggs in the dark murky waters of the AeroGarden, so I switched it off and resolved to clean it the next day. I was about to ring the death knell for the herbs and start over with a new batch, so it didn't really bother me that I was going to kill 'em. 'Sides, the basil was getting old and bitter (and the only thing oldand bitter in our household is John!).

On Sunday, I was out in the foyer, and DISGUSTED to see no fewer than 12 damned dirty flies grasping the curtains with their spiney little damned dirty feet. I commented about it to John, and told him we needed to do something about it. I had visions of a tented house. John had other ideas.

In a horrendously loud BOOM, John took my brand new pad of graph paper and slayed 14 damned dirty flies (ok, it might have been several BOOMs). Scared the poopie out of the cats, who went tearing upstairs. The back of my graph paper pad is gross and bloody, but there's definitely a sense of satisfaction in it--good thing we're not Hindu/Buddhist; the karmic burden would be tiresome!

I think my count is up to seventeen. EDIT: I killed 9 others when we were home for lunch!

Josh claims he off'd a few, though I've yet to see their bodies, so I don't know if I believe him.

While John was exacting Biblical wrath on the damned dirty flies, I started cleaning out the AeroGarden. Woweee...those herbs amassed quite an impressive root bundle. I had to cut them apart. After I had it nice and clean, I felt smug. I thought about damned dirty flies mating in my AeroGarden, and felt a bit glad I hadn't been using the herbs for a while. As I fantisized more about damned dirty flies mating, the thought occurred to me that the AeroGarden includes an aerator that keeps the water circulating and properly oxygenates. Something from 10th grade biology clicked in my wee brain, and I remembered that most common bugs that lay eggs in water like still waters, not bubbling waters (thanks, Mr. Hammond!), so surely, the AeroGarden wasn't the site of the damned dirty flies' love-making rituals.

Now, what do we have in our house with stagnant water perfect for the gyrations of damned dirty flies reproducing? The 28-gallon presently unoccupied fish tank, half full of water! I peered through the salt/calcium stained tank, and saw tiny little flecks of cream-coloured eggs...and some damned dirty flies making the most of a cozy Sunday afternoon! Bleach in hand, I ensured the progeny from those damned dirty flies would meet a timely demise.

So, because I know you all *love* pictures, here's one of the 9 I slaughtered at lunch:

I'm thinking of taking them to a taxidermist and having their little bodies stuffed and mounted so I can decorate the walls of the library with my kills. Whatdaya think?

Birds of a Feather

One of the neatest things about our house/neighbourhood is the abundance of non-palm trees. I think that's one of the many reasons I like older homes: they have established trees. And the over-useage of palm trees in Southern California really only started (as near as I can tell looking at the various neighbourhoods in the area) sometime in the 1980s, so homes built before then typically have more than just palm trees.

And what I didn't realize when we bought our house was that there were TONS of different types of birds populating the trees. In the morning, I sit at the alcove created by one of the dormer windows to apply my makeup. Every morning, I am greeted by the amusing antics of the various birds that live in our trees. I'm relatively certain we have a pair of Western Scrub-Jays nesting. They're pretty little birds with a lovely shade of blue covering their sides, wings and tail, along with a dusty grey on their back.

A few weeks ago when we got home from work, I looked up at the sole palm tree on our property, and there were three woodpeckers pecking away (and I must confess to a flutter in my heart when I thought of the woodpeckers making quick work of the palm tree and killing it in all its ugly, worthless glory. I wholey admit the possibility that I'm wrong, but I believe they are Acorn Woodpeckers. The telephoto on the camera is great, but the birds were in shadow and I couldn't really get a great look at them. Here are some grainy Patterson & Gimlin sasquatch-esque pictures.

The First One.

The Second One. (We've counted 7 different ones)

The link to the bird website includes an audio sample of their call, and that's similar to what I've heard (I mistakenly thought they were Conures, and I was very happy). I can't quite figure out what they're eating, as it seems like they have a particular affinity for acorns (seeing how it's in the name and all) and there don't appear to be an abundance of oak trees on our property/nearby...

So I guess they also eat palm nuts (!?). I guess the wretched economy is making EVERYONE do things they're not used to.

In addition to the Western Scrub-Jack and the woodpeckers, we have a nice selection of hummingbirds zipping around the neighbourhood. Lawd knows they're not after any sweet flowers on our DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD earth property, but it's still nice to see them.