just beet it

When Drew and I acquired our garden plot last spring, one of the first things my family (somewhat enviously) said was that we could garden year round. Yes, yes, I suppose that's possible. Except that with the arrival of fall also comes the start of a new school year and shorter days, it gets more difficult to get out to the garden. Over the course of that past few months, we have been removing tomato and pepper plants, sometimes one by one, after they've given us everything they've got. And every weekend, it's the same: we keep saying we're going to get out to the garden to compost and plant winter crops. And then the weekend comes, and we're busy working, or grading, or grocery shopping, or running, or getting in some much needed relaxing.

Anyway, the garden plot is almost bare. We have just one tomato plant and a sage plant. Surprisingly, the tomato plant is still bearing fruit. Home grown tomatoes in December? Don't hate us. I planted beets sometime during the summer, unaware that these are a cool weather crop. Around September, their leaves began to poke out of the ground, and not at all in the neat little rows in which they were planted. They appeared in the most random places, as if I'd been drunk when I'd planted them (for the record, I wasn't).

I went out to pick the beets yesterday, but the giant leaves deceived me. There were pretty much no beets, save for a very tiny one.

deck the halls!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!
Well, sort of. I think it was 80 degrees outside the day Drew and I did our holiday decorating.

turkey trot!

Drew and I headed down to Oceanside for Thanksgiving where we indulged in running and eating way too much stuffing. Or maybe it was me, not Drew, who ate too much stuffing.

This is my 6th Thanksgiving, and I recently realized that I probably don't have many more to celebrate in Oceanside. I will eventually graduate and move out of Southern California. Hopefully. But I will no doubt miss spending Thanksgiving with the Oceanside family. It's always a riot. It's loud and everyone is talking, sometimes above one another. The only time people aren't talking is about the first 10 seconds after we've served our food and start eating. It's a lot of fun. Meals are always served family style, and sometimes there are so many people that the dinner table extends into the entryway (like it did for my first Thanksgiving there). Instead of passing around dishes of food, you pass around your plate.

Our Thanksgiving began with the Turkey Trot. When I began running a little over 2 months ago, I was run/walking miles at a 15 minute pace. My only goal was to run the entire Turkey Trot, no matter how slow. Drew and I ran the entire 3.1 miles together, separating only to dodge walkers. The race was very flat and went pretty well. The last stretch was along the ocean, and people came out of their beach houses to cheer us on. There was a girl playing her violin and a group of guys blasting music. My cousin Mike was there to greet us at the finish line.

Near the finish line, Drew graciously slowed down to take my picture crossing the finish line.
My official time was 31:15, or about a 10 minute mile. Drew finished one second later. Here is the 'after' picture:

The rest of the day was dedicated to relaxing, football, wii, and pecan pie.

october

It's not October anymore, but it was a busy month that deserves a recap. For starters, I finally left prospectus purgatory. Yes, it's true, I finally got to defend my prospectus and begin dissertation research. The defense wasn't as bad as I'd anticipated and certainly not as dreadful as I thought it would be.

I also signed up for a half marathon. I forked over $60, so there is no turning back now. Sam and I did a 5 mile run a week ago and a 6 mile run last Sunday, which is the longest that I've ever run in my life. Next Sunday, we are running 7 miles, which is a bit difficult to wrap my head around, but I'm sure we will survive.

Last weekend, we went to a fancy running store, which proved to be a dangerous place to be if you've just started running and still think it's fun. Not only did I become a VIP member of said running store, but I bought a hydration pack, some energy gels, and socks. I confess that these socks were $18 for a 3 pack. On sale. But they're supposed to prevent blisters, so how could I resist?

a half marathon

This is the story about how I agreed to run a half marathon in January. It started about a week ago. As you may recall, I'm running a 5K on Thanksgiving Day, a race appropriately called the Turkey Trot. My friend Sam and I run a couple times a week, and we ran our first 4 miler a week and a half ago. And something magical happened. It actually felt pretty good. I didn't feel like I was going to die, which is something I usually feel at some point during the first mile.

So here's what happens when you run 4 miles and feel exhilarated: you agree to run a half marathon. I knew Sam was planning to run a half in January, but I hadn't given much thought to doing it myself until recently. Here was my line of thought: we're training buddies, so if she's going to train for a half and we continue to run together, well then, shouldn't I also do the half? You might be thinking: If Sam jumps off a cliff, will I blindly follow? The answer is of course not, but I should mention right now that she's already registered for the Big Sur Marathon, which is sometime at the end of April or early May. I'm not even going to think about what this could mean for me.

And so I have verbally committed to running the half marathon in January. I even announced it on facebook. But I haven't ponied up the $50 for the registration fee. Other magical things have happened from running. For starters, seemingly overnight, we shaved a minute off our mile time. Instead of 13 minutes miles, we're now running 12 minute miles. How did that happen? I have no idea, but I'll take it.

3 miles

This is my 5th week of running. I've worked my way up to 3 mile runs, soon to be 4 (this Sunday). Running is hard, but I'm sticking with it. At some point, I know it will get easier and that I'll get better at it. Even though I huff and puff my way through 3 miles, I love the way I feel after a run. I feel like I breathe better. It's nice feeling like I accomplished something. I like the thought of knowing that I did something I didn't think I could do. I never thought of myself as a runner, so running even 3 miles feels like a triumph.

on running

As you may recall, I am in the throes of training for the Turkey Trot, a 5K on Thanksgiving Day. I am nearing the end of the 3rd week of training. Last Sunday, I ran 3 miles, which was my first 3 miler in a really, really long time, maybe even years. It went well, and I didn't feel like I was going to die. I have also started running with a friend, something I've never done before. We won't be able to run together all the time, but for now, it looks like we'll have a standing Sunday morning running date.

I have a few reasons for taking up running. For one thing, I'd like to lose some weight. During the time I've been in grad school, I've gained and lost the same 5-7 pounds. The good thing is that I lose those same 5-7 pounds. The alternative is that they just accumulate. But I'm tired of being so inconsistent with my workout habits, and I'm confident running will get me on track. Having a clear goal (the Turkey Trot) certainly helps, but so does the structure of a training program. I know when I'm going to run, how often, and for how many miles. My Type A personality really likes this structure.

I flirted with running before I came to grad school, and I really enjoyed it. I ran a couple 5Ks, and I considered training for a 10K. But then I moved to CA and never really hopped back on the treadmill, so to speak. I ran here and there, but never as consistently as I did prior to grad school.

I've also been motivated to take up running because I'm hoping that it will help me cope with grad school. This past year has been incredibly difficult and stressful. These things will always be there, but I'm looking for ways to deal with them. Yoga has certainly been a life saver, but it alone is not the cure-all pill. Already, I can tell that running is helping- it helps me cope with my stress and frustration, and it clears my mind.

green tomatoes

Our gardening season is sort of winding down. I say "sort of" because even though tomato and pepper season is wrapping up, Drew and I will still get to plant cool weather crops like lettuce, beets, and brussel sprouts. I know, I know, it's rough over here where it doesn't frost, snow, or get colder than say 55 degrees.

Our rookie gardening season went pretty well. We had big, bushy green plants, lots of peppers, some tomatoes, jalapenos, and beans. The peppers are slowing down but still producing, but the tomatoes have really slowed down. We have several green tomatoes that absolutely refuse to turn red.

Fortunately, they will not go to waste. This weekend I'll be using them to make salsa verde. If we've learned anything this gardening season, it's to plant tomatoes early- in April, not July. Big rookie mistake. Oh well.

At least there is eggplant.

turkey trot

After years of working out off and on (fortunately more "ons" than "offs"), I've decided that this is just the thing to get me motivated and moving: the Turkey Trot. It's a 5K on Thanksgiving Day. Drew and I have just registered, and I've roped at least one family member into joining us.

I ran a couple 5Ks in Minnesota, but none since moving to California. I enjoy running (I really mean jogging) and I do it here and there, but I haven't run consistently since the summer of 2006 in Minnesota. I check out issues of Runner's World from the public library in the hopes that I'll be motivated to run. Sometimes it works, but more often it does not.

So now I have a clear goal, but perhaps more importantly, I've forked over $30 for a registration fee. I have a training program and I started it yesterday. Already, it feels good. I harbor no grand expectations for race day. My only goal is the same one I've had for the previous 5Ks: jog the entire way, no matter how slow.

9/11/01

I was 21 years old and I had just moved to New York City on August 28th, exactly 2 weeks before the big day. I was going to study photography at the School of Visual Arts. I've never documented my experiences on September 11th, but the 10th anniversary seems like a good time to get it all down in writing. I really haven't paid much attention to the 9/11 coverage, mostly because it's sad and also because I think being there exempts me from doing so.

It was the second week of classes, and I had a photography class at 9am on Tuesday. The class was structured so that we spent the morning in the darkroom, took a break for lunch, and then reconvened for a critique in the afternoon. I was already in the darkroom when the first plane hit the first tower. I can't remember what I was doing, probably assembling my chemicals or something.

One of my classmates, Doug, rushed into the darkroom, breathless. He said he just saw a plane crash into the World Trade Center. I remember thinking something along the lines of "how the hell does a pilot just crash into a building? I mean, wouldn't you see that coming and watch out?" We didn't know it wasn't an accident, but obviously it wasn't too long until we learned otherwise. I do not remember any of my SVA classmates (aside from those who became my friends), but I doubt I will ever forget Doug. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he was a bit older than the rest of us, very good looking, and Scottish, so he stood out anyway. But because he was the first to break the news of what became 9/11, he is seared into my memory. Still in the darkroom, we all got out our cell phones to call home, but there was no cell service. Class was canceled and we all left.

I headed back to the dorm and met up with some friends. Our dorm was about 2 and a half miles from the World Trade Center. (Interestingly, I never knew this until I google mapped it just right now.) My friends and I retrieved our cameras and video cameras (we were art students after all) and made our way down to lower Manhattan. We wanted to document as much as possible. Looking back, this was probably a foolish move. As everyone else was making their way out of lower Manhattan, there we were, making our way into the line of fire. On some level, I must have known it was foolish, because it would be years before I told my parents that this is what I had done. But on that day, I couldn't stop myself from going.

On the way to lower Manhattan, my friends and I parted ways. I made it as far as Chinatown, which is about a mile from the World Trade Center. I can't remember too much of what I saw, except that there was tons of smoke and dust. It was otherwise a beautiful day. The temperature was probably in the lower 70s, and the sky was clear and blue. The mayoral primary was supposed to be that day.

There was a mass exodus out of lower Manhattan. I think there was a lot of confusion. I snapped a photo of a young girl around 3 or 4 years old in a face mask, flanked by her parents, and looking quite bewildered. I lost that frame and several others in an unfortunate film development mishap.

People had face masks and some were shaking dust out of their hair and clothes.

I think that the biggest mistake I made that day was leaving my cell phone in my dorm room. This meant that I did not talk to my parents until 2 or 3 in the afternoon, after returning from my venture down to lower Manhattan. They were obviously very, very worried and frantic. I suppose that's to be expected, but I was strangely surprised that they were so worried. I guess I didn't think about the fact that they didn't know exactly where SVA was or how close or far I lived from the World Trade Center. In my defense, I had had a cell phone for only about a week, so I was not in the habit of carrying it. Plus, cell service was sketchy, so I didn't think it would matter if I left it in my room. I also don't know why I didn't borrow my roommates computer and send an email to my parents. But looking back, now I realize the mistake I'd made.

My parents would later say they were bombarded with phone calls from family and friends asking if I was okay. I don't know how long this went on. Maybe a week or so? Anyway, this was in the pre-Facebook era so I couldn't just update my status to let everyone know I was fine. This was also before I even owned a computer, and even though I had an email account, I didn't use it as religiously as I do now.

Later that evening, my friends and I went to a candlelight vigil in Gramercy Park. Then we went to Times Square. It was a ghost town. There were only a few other people there. There was a huge American flag draped over one of the buildings. The entire day was so surreal and looking back, it felt like we were in a movie. The gravity of the day really hit home when we saw a firetruck being towed down the street. One of my friends said that firetrucks are supposed to rescue people; they're not supposed to the be the ones in need of rescuing.

Classes were canceled for the rest of the week, and all of us got out of the city. I went to Providence, where a good friend went to school. Even though I emerged unscathed (I didn't know any of the casualties and I was not injured), it was a heavy and emotional week, and I needed to not be in New York.

There were many September 11th makeshift memorials throughout the city, so many that I eventually felt desensitized to them. Sections of lower Manhattan were closed off for quite some time, but I went down from time to time to take pictures. Eventually I did see Ground Zero. It was a big, huge hole. There was still a lot of dust, and I happened upon this piece of paper:

I felt like it summed up 9/11. I don't remember actually seeing the World Trade Center, and I find it a little strange that I've seen Ground Zero instead. In fact, I didn't even know there were two towers. My ignorance would be a source of jokes for the remaining year (as in, "yes Kris, there are two towers. That's why they're called the TWIN towers."). Oh, and my mispronunciation of FAO Schwartz (turns out that you say each individual letter, as in F-A-O Schwartz).

A year later, SVA had an art exhibit commemorating 9/11. I didn't return to SVA, but these pictures did. I wish I could have seen the exhibit and been there for the opening, but I'm glad that at the very least, my photos were a part of it.

on teaching

Last week was our last week of summer session classes. My class went well, but it went by incredibly fast. The 10 week quarter system is nothing compared to the five week summer session. I had fun teaching and the students were great. I think they had a fun time too. We had lively discussions and watched a couple movies and television shows.

The thing is that I'm not supposed to admit that teaching was fun and enjoyable. As far as our priorities go, teaching gets short shrift. After my students thanked me for a great class, I felt like they'd been hoodwinked. What they don't know is that teaching, at least at a major research university, just isn't a priority (for grad students or their professors). It really doesn't matter. Students and/or their parents shell out thousands of dollars to learn from professors that don't prioritize teaching. Professors will still get tenure and grad students will still get a Ph.D. even if they're bad teachers. I could have had a shitty class and bored my students to tears, and it wouldn't have mattered. I wouldn't have had to engage them in lively discussions or used television shows and movies to illustrate the material we'd been learning about.

It's not always the professors or grad students' fault that teaching gets short shrift. I suppose that's just how academia works. Drew and I recently watched a movie called Tenure, starring Luke Wilson, Gretchen Mol, and that bald guy from Anchorman. Wilson played an English professor trying to get tenure. He was an excellent teacher, but had a dismal publishing career. He was offered conditional tenure, but would have to take a year off from teaching to build up his publishing record. In the end, he declined the offer and ended up taking a job teaching high school students.

The main point of the movie did not seem too far from the truth. I have seen students enter grad school with the desire to teach, only to leave after a few years to pursue high school teaching. It's the dirty secret of academia. You think teaching matters, but it really doesn't. If you really want to teach, don't go to grad school. Research and getting published are valued, not teaching; it's the message we're constantly bombarded with.

Nevertheless, I still had a good summer session. It was fun and rewarding, and I think the students got a lot out of the class. And even though teaching is supposed to take a backseat to research, I don't regret the effort I put into it.

a trip to the moca

Yesterday, Drew and I headed up to LA to go to the Museum of Contemporary Art. I'd never been before, but I was on a mission to see Andy Warhol's collection of Campbell's soup cans. There are 32 in all. The MOCA does not allow photography, so I snagged this picture off the internet:

Warhol was part of the pop art movement. Some people probably wouldn't even classify his work as art, but I love it. I love that Warhol is making some sort of social commentary with his art. I love that his soup cans are a critique of our consumerist and mass produced society. It's genius.

The rest of the museum was great too. There were plenty of exhibits, but not so many that we didn't get to see them all. I'm a fan of modern art, so I thoroughly enjoyed it. My general rule with art is, the crazier, the weirder, and the more mysterious and abstract it is, the better.

After walking around the MOCA, we decided to walk around the Walt Disney Concert Hall. Frank Gehry designed it (he was also the architect behind the Weisman Art Museum on the Univ of MN campus). It's beautiful.

We wandered around and climbed the stairs to the public garden. It was really nice and made a good day even better.

escabeche

Based on the way I've been spending my free time lately, you'd never guess Drew and I live in sunny, southern California. You'd never guess that we have access to fresh produce year round from the farmer's market. Rather, you'd think we lived in a cold weather state, by the way I've been busily putting up food. I guess I'll just be prepared for when we (hopefully) live in a cold weather state.

So far I've canned two kinds of salsa (a third is soon to come), mango chili butter, and now escabeche.

We have one jalapeno plant, which produces too many jalapenos for us to cook with, but not enough to can. But this week we're garden sitting for some friends who went out of town, and they told us to help ourselves to anything we'd like. So we picked their jalapenos and this is what happens when their peppers got together with ours: escabeche.

I thought escabeche was something made of fish, but I guess there could be more than one kind. Anyway, this one consists of pickled and seasoned veggies- onions, cauliflower, garlic, carrots, and of course, jalapenos. It was super easy to make, and tasted pretty good.

salsa!

We had a bit of a "heat" wave the past few days (meaning temperatures reached the high 80s, maybe even low 90s). Naturally, the best thing to do during a "heat wave" is turn on all the stove burners and can something, which is exactly what I did.

We had a bunch of jalapeno, green, and red peppers, and we needed to do something with them. I've been eating the red and green peppers with hummus, but obviously I just can't eat jalapenos in the same way. So I decided to make salsa even though our tomato plants aren't quite up to the task yet. But I'd had my eye on a recipe for peach salsa, and since we're not growing peaches anyway, I decided to head down to the farmer's market to pick some up. And I couldn't resist the fat romas and beefsteaks, so I got those too.

So Drew and I made peach salsa and a fresh tomato salsa earlier this week. They're a little spicy, namely because I got a little lazy with de-seeding the jalapenos and didn't do such a good job. But the salsas taste nice and fresh and way better than the store bought stuff.

on grad school

When I was in Las Vegas, I met up with a friend I'd made 3 years ago at ICPSR (aka stats boot camp) in Ann Arbor. We had just finished up our 2nd year of grad school. Now, she is finishing her dissertation and getting ready to start an academic job in Texas, and I'm entering my 6th year of grad school. Other stuff has has changed too. She recently got married and moved from the East Coast to Texas. Drew and I moved in together less than a year ago. We've changed in other ways too.

We talked about how different grad school is now, after our 5th year, compared to how it was after our 2nd year. It certainly is. See, you can always distinguish the younger grad students (1st and 2nd years) from the older grad students (about 4th year and above). The younger ones are bright eyed and bushy tailed. They are ambitious, excited, and optimistic. We talked about how we used to be like that. The older ones are jaded. They're tired and worn down. If they haven't left the program by now, they just want to get out and graduate. We talked about how this is what we're like now. She said "When I was younger, I always wondered why the older grad students always looked tired and stressed out." Now, we know.

When I was a 2nd year, I shared an office with a 5th year. She was jaded, worn down, and tired of the bullshit. I wondered if I'd end up like her someday. I did. The thing is that younger grad students never understand that this is how it will eventually end up. And you can't tell them this either. They'll never believe it. If my officemate had told me I'd feel like her someday, I wouldn't have believed it. No, not me. I'll be different. Ha!

And this is why older grad students can't be friends with younger grad students. Like, really friends. Of course, everyone can hang out and play nice. But the thing is that grad school sucks a lot, and nobody wants those older students raining on the younger ones' parade, not that they want to do that anyway. And while the older ones understand what the younger ones are going through, the reverse is never true. To them, our experiences are unfathomable. Until you've been through it yourself, you can never understand.

I imagine that on some level, being in a Ph.D. program must be like the military. Nobody else knows what it's like unless they've been through it themselves (and I mean a Ph.D. program, not MBA, not medical school or law school, and certainly not M.A. programs). Which is sad, because being in a Ph.D. program is already isolating. The last thing we need is for it to be even more isolating. But maybe that's why, when you make good friends that really and truly know what you're going through, you all hang on for dear life, throwing each other life rings and trying to just help each other survive.

las vegas

After neglecting you for weeks, I've decided to play catch up all in the same day. Last weekend, Drew and I went to Las Vegas. It was the annual meeting of the American Sociology Association and Drew was presenting a paper. Even though half my committee is composed of sociologists, and I've been told many times that I'm practically one myself (by the aforementioned half of my committee as well as many others), and I get mistaken for being one all the time, I was simply along for the ride. It was fabulous. I have some friends in the sociology department, and this was a great time to see those who I haven't seen in a while as well as those who have just graduated and are getting ready to move away.

The entire weekend was nice and relaxing, at least for me. I hung out with friends, Drew was busy with some conference stuff, we ate, and drank $2 margaritas. We went to Max Brenner, this restaurant known for its chocolate and desserts. It was fantastic.

I accidentally coerced Drew into eating Chinese food, a little over one week since he'd been back from China. After dealing with long waits at 2 different restaurants one night, we decided to try out Beijing Noodle No.9 for scallion pancakes, sizzling tofu with black bean sauce, and hand pulled noodles with tomato and egg.

The black bean sauce was so good I started scooping it out and eating it with a spoon. That's right, I'm not ashamed to admit that. If you'd forked over $18 for it like I did, you'd make the most of it too.

I ate this noodle dish only once when I was in Beijing last summer, right before we hiked the Great Wall. I loved it, and I will always have fond memories of it. Drew said he ate this nearly every week while he was in Beijing. I nearly fell out of my chair when he said it cost barely $1 in Beijing. In Las Vegas, it was $12. Sigh.

It was a good weekend. On the way back home, we stopped off in Primm (about 30 miles from Vegas) at the Mad Greek Cafe for dinner. We had some bad luck on the drive home though. There had been an accident involving a fuel truck in the southbound lanes about 60 miles from Vegas. Fortunately nobdoy was injured, but the freeway was closed and traffic was diverted. Traffic was stop and go about 10 miles from the site, and I kid you not, it took us about 3 hours to drive 10 miles.

This is the 2nd time Drew and I have been to Vegas together, and so far, on the drive home we are 0-2. Both times, what should be about a 5 hour trip turns into 7 or 8. When I drove out here from Minnesota, I drove through Vegas but didn't hit any traffic. I'm pretty sure that if I had, I would have strongly considered turning around and driving back to Minnesota. Maybe.

a harvest!

The garden is doing well. We have to beat the crows to the tomatoes, but I can't complain. We've harvested about half a dozen green peppers, a dozen or so jalapenos, some romas, and some beans. It has been quite rewarding. And it tastes so good. I always knew that local food was superior to the stuff that gets shipped thousands of miles to the grocery store, but now I totally get it.

We are getting red peppers!
And a view of the whole plot:
Things are looking very green!

sexism and power

It's been a while, but bear with me. First of all, Drew came home a couple weeks ago. He is glad to be back home, and I've already coerced him into eating Chinese food (more on that later). It is good to have him. He was impressed with the garden (more on that later, too), but he was disappointed that I neglected his plant in the living room. In my defense, I did keep it alive despite watering it only once in the 7 weeks he was away.

August has been a busy month because I am teaching a summer session class and it started at the beginning of the month. I am teaching Sexism and Power. It's a how-to class. Har har. We meet twice a week for 3 hours each. I have about 20 students. It's a writing class, so we write essays every week, which means that my weekends are devoted to grading. The students are fun and they seem interested in the course material. We have fun discussions and sometimes watch TV shows and movies. I couldn't have asked for a better teaching experience.

I also completed the Literacy Tutor Training at the Newport Beach Public Library. I am in the process of being matched with a learner. The library has a literacy program for adults who need help with their reading, writing, and speaking skills. I should begin tutoring soon, so I'm looking forward to that.

putting the community in gardening

Let me start by saying that I did not grow these tomatoes. My gardening neighbors from 2 plots away did. Don't they look lovely?

I have heard that gardens can help community building, and while I had no reason to doubt this, I have definitely felt this the past couple months. Except for the guy who looked at me like I was on crack when I asked him about my flowering basil, everyone I've come across in the garden is nice, warm, and friendly (and they don't look at me like I'm on crack when I talk to them).

Some of the garden plots are tended to by my friends, but most are not. In the garden, I wave to people I don't know, and sometimes even chat them up. This doesn't really happen in other venues.

So back to the tomatoes. My gardening neighbors who gave me the tomatoes are a couple with lots of tomato plants. Their plants are lush and green. They climb up to the sky on tall stakes. I am envious. I call them the tomato people (I actually don't know their names). I have also realized that seeing as how Drew and I have 10 tomato plants, I guess we too could be the tomato people. But our tomato plants don't look as good as our neighbors' plants.

I have chatted up the tomato people and solicited their advice. And yesterday, as we were watering our respective gardens, the woman came over and offered me some tomatoes. It was so kind and generous. I can't wait to eat them.

As we were talking, she was admiring our pepper plants. They might be the tomato people, but I guess we might be the pepper people. She said she couldn't grow peppers, which is surprising, given that she successfully grows tomatoes, thai basil, eggplants, potatoes, and squash. But anyway, this could be a good thing. Drew and I will surely have too many peppers, so when they start coming in, we will return the goodwill.

thank you martha stewart

I had no idea that I was in the market for a chocolate frosting recipe, but apparently, I was. I checked out Martha Stewart's 'Cupcakes' cookbook from the library the other day, and almost immediately, I looked for a chocolate frosting recipe. And of course she had one, this being Martha Stewart and all.

I'm going to a Farewell BBQ tonight, and so I made yellow cupcakes to go with my chocolate frosting. The frosting is perfect. It's super chocolate-y and fudgy, but not at all heavy.

I hadn't even finished frosting the cupcakes when I decided to taste test one. It was wonderful, and I'm a little sad that I have to share.

Even though I'm in love with Martha's chocolate frosting recipe, I don't think I'll be buying her cookbook. About half of it was recipes, but they weren't particularly new or innovative. For example, as much as I love pumpkin cupcakes, I probably don't need another take on them. The remaining half of the cookbook was "recipes" for decorating your cupcakes. Stuff like how to make your cupcakes look like a yule log, or farm animals, or sea creatures, and so on.

This is going to sound hypocritical, given that I took a cake decorating class and that I have been known to enjoy the Food Network's 'Ace of Cakes' show, but I will never understand or embrace this movement to make baked goods look like, well, not baked goods. You just don't see this with other foods. I mean, when's the last time you heard of someone making a lasagna look like a car? Or someone using chicken to sculpt Santa Claus? I think you catch my drift here.

The other day at the library, I came across Bakerella's new cookbook. Bakerella makes cake pops that don't look like cake pops. In the spirit of the Hello Cupcake cookbooks, Bakerella will teach you how to make cake pops look like hamburgers or teddy bears. Out of curiosity, I looked at the recipe for said cake pops, and *gasp* it calls for a boxed cake mix. The folks over at Hello Cupcake also advocate boxed cake mixes.

And this, I believe, is my problem with this crazy, over the top cake decorating: boxed cake mixes. Have we become so accustomed to eating shitty food that we'll sacrifice taste for a cupcake that doesn't look like one? Herein lies the paradox: there are people that won't go to the trouble with baking a cake from scratch, yet they will spend hours on end decorating that cake (enough people at least to warrant such a market). I understand that cake mixes are convenient, fast, and easy, but what I don't understand is if people are going to spend all this time decorating a cake, why not just make one from scratch instead and skip the extravagant decorating?

The cake pops look cool, but I bet they taste like crap. There is no substitute for homemade baked goods, and if you don't believe me, come on over to my place and I'll bake you a cake. From scratch.

3 weeks

So here's the rundown: Drew is currently at the Great Wall right as we speak. Jealous? Yeah, me too. He's a little halfway through his language program, and he'll be home in 3 weeks. For the past month or so, we subleased our 2nd bedroom to a professor who was here for a seminar or something like that, and he left yesterday. So I have the place to myself for the next 3 weeks.

I spent some time in the garden today. One of the tomato plants is not doing well and I have no idea what's wrong with it. And I haven't been that concerned with trying to figure it out either. Until today, all I'd done about it was call my dad, and describe to him the state of my plant while standing out at the garden (he's like my personal garden adviser. I call him with a problem, and if he doesn't know the answer, he calls someone else and calls me back. I'm spoiled). The leaves are yellowing and then they eventually turn brown and crunchy. One day, I pruned away all the brown and crunchy leaves, but the next day, more leaves turned yellow and brown. It's like the plant is mocking me. Anyway, today I added some compost to the soil because I suspect the plant needs some nutrients. We'll see if that works.

The rest of the garden is looking pretty good and green:

There are about half a dozen jalapeno peppers on this plant:
And nearly all 8 of our pepper plants have at least 1 or 2 peppers:

It's pretty cool, but at the same time, it makes me nervous. Pretty soon, we're going to have loads of peppers, and I'm pretty sure I won't be able to eat them fast enough. I plan to roast and can the red peppers, and I guess I'll blanch and freeze the green peppers.

And finally, our cherry tomato plant keeps producing about 4 or 5 cherry tomatoes at a time. I've learned that I need to be more diligent about picking them when they turn red, lest they fall prey to the crows that hang out around the garden. I don't really mind sharing, but I wish they'd at least eat the entire tomato instead of leaving part of it in the garden.

just say no

After 5 years of being in a Ph.D. program, I cannot, in good conscience recommend that anyone go to graduate school. I've known this for the past year, but I didn't really know it. When my students ask for advice about grad school, I'm vague and generic. I don't outright dissuade them, but I'm no grad school cheerleader, at least not for a Ph.D. program.

I hadn't fully realized or admitted all of this until yesterday. I went to a birthday party and met a guy halfway through his undergraduate career. I asked him what he studied, and then he said he was thinking about graduate school. He's barely spitting out the words, but I'm already shaking my head, telling him not to do it.

Most everyone is bright eyed, bushy tailed, and optimistic when they enter a Ph.D. program, but somewhere along the way, we get jaded. Along the way, we sell out and sell our soul. It takes a few years, but we learn that grad school is nothing like what we thought it would be. I haven't yet decided if it's the smart ones who get out or stick with it.

a birthday and a full garden

I turned another year older a little over a week ago. A close friend and I share a birthday and finally, after 4 years, we were able to celebrate together. I made a lemon coconut bundt cake for the occasion:

We had a party, and it was lovely. It was tame, even though the police paid us a visit around 2 in the morning, after all but a handful of guests remained. It's not unusual for the cops to shut down parties around here. The only surprise is that it didn't happen until 2am. (usually it happens around midnight or 1) Anyway, it was a good thing the police arrived; they checked my ID and that's how I learned that my driver's license expired.

I share my birthday with several friends and even family, and I am used to and enjoy celebrating it with others. My cousin and aunt and I all share a birthday, and when I was child, we would have a joint party. It was something I looked forward to, and I was a bit sad when the tradition ended.

In other news, I got us a little ornament for the garden. It sure is cute:

And we finally have a full garden plot:

After accidentally killing off the seedlings, I went to the nursery for a few replacement plants. I planted 2 romas and a cherokee purple. The garden is, for the most part, doing pretty well. The peppers are thriving, and we have beans coming up. But for some reason, the once thriving mint, isn't doing so hot. Most of the tomatoes are doing well, except one has started to turn yellow. Not sure what's going on there.

The other day, I stopped off at the garden on my way to school. A group of kids from the day care were there, having a look around. They love the garden and their teachers bring them there often, maybe even everyday, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I showed a couple kids some peppers and let them play with our garden ornament (the head bobbles back and forth). When I got ready to leave, they got sad and asked where I was going. I told them I had to go to school and even though they seemed upset that I was leaving, they did walk me to the gate. I had no idea kids can get so attached! They were so adorable, I kind of wanted to stick around.

since you've been gone

In case you didn't know, Drew has been in Beijing for the past 2 weeks. He will be there for another 5. He's there for a language program at Beijing Normal University. So far things seem to be going well. He lives in a dorm and has a roommate that also happens to be a student at UCI. He is busy with class in the morning and homework in the afternoon. Drew goes out with friends from the program for dinner and such, and I think there is sightseeing involved, but I think the most noteworthy thing thus far is that he got an iced coffee from McDonald's. And instead of cream, it had soft serve vanilla ice cream in it.

So here I am, holding down the fort and tending to the garden. I've been tending to the seedlings, but I'm apparently not doing enough tending because I've lost some more and now we are down to 3. I go to the garden nearly everyday. I've planted beets, onions, sweet basil, thai basil, garlic, and beans. I've transplanted tomato plants and planted an eggplant plant. This weekend, I'm going to plant some romas. But do you know what I have not done? Watered this plant:

The irony is that the garden, though not far from our apartment at all (it's about a city block), is still obviously farther than this plant. This is Drew's plant, and I'm supposed to keep it alive while he's gone. Despite the fact that it sits perched atop a bookshelf in the living room, I haven't watered it. Lest you think this is a conspiracy against Drew, I am responsible for the 2 plants on the porch and I can't remember when I last watered those. I am tempted to see how long this plant will live without water. So far it's been at least 2 weeks. We'll see if it makes it another 5.

Flying solo hasn't been difficult to adjust to. I've been keeping busy with school, and most of my friends are around for the summer. Even so, it's been pretty quiet around here. The biggest adjustment has been going back to cooking for one. I haven't gotten the hang of it yet. I ate udon noodles for 4 days in a row, and I ate potato salad today for the 5th time within a week (and I'm gearing up for the 6th and last time tomorrow). And somehow I have to find it in my stomach to eat 3 more servings of eggplant parmesan in the fridge. I definitely need to start halving recipes.

It's been only 2 weeks, but Drew is already tired of Chinese food (or as they would call it, just food). He's already craving Mexican food. I told him about this Chinese restaurant here that reputedly serves up some great dumplings, and I told him that we should go when he gets back. He said I should go now without him and reminded me that last summer, after having been in Beijing for a month, we didn't eat Chinese food for at least 2 months. Maybe 3. Seeing as how he'll be there for almost 2 months, I guess I don't expect to eat Chinese food when he gets back for about 6 months. Well, then I guess I'd better go ahead and make this while he's away. But I'll be sure to cut the recipe in half.

the garden

I don't want to jinx things, but the garden is still doing well. I went out today to compost, mulch, and plant some thai basil and sweet basil. I was staking the pole beans, when I looked down and was so surprised to see these:

I know, I know, I mean, what else did I expect to be growing on a pole bean plant? Spaghetti? I was surprised that the plant was doing well enough to produce beans because something has been eating the leaves. I picked the beans, took them home, and ate them raw. They were quite tasty, though I suppose they'd also be tasty roasted with some olive oil, salt, and pepper.

Our pepper plants are still doing well, and all 8 of them are developing blossoms. And this one even has some teeny tiny peppers!

Our garden plot is one of 50 plots, and we have quite a nice gardening community. There were some community seedlings free for the taking early in the gardening season, but now all that remains are a few tomato plants that look to be on their last leg. After accidentally killing off some of our tomato seedlings, I decided to rescue one of the community tomato plants. When I planted it, it was pretty sad and weary, with maybe one or two green leaves. But now, after about only a week, it seems to be thriving. When I first saw it, I thought to myself, "I'm the freaking plant whisperer."

The rest of our tomato plants are bright green and bushy:

Below, we have some tomato plants in containers, garlic in one container, and thai basil in another:

Another view of the peppers:

garlic

It's all the rage. Garlic? Yup, garlic. I've been a fan since 2004, when an old friend and former housemate introduced me to it. I was familiar with garlic, but only the stuff that's powdered. And now, I put garlic in everything. Sometimes even brownies.

Some of my fellow gardening friends told me that you can grow garlic from a garlic clove. Really? Really. Stick a clove in the ground, and then voila! Garlic. They have or are in the process of trying it out themselves, so I had to hop on the bandwagon.

RIP seedlings

I'm sad to report that I've killed off the beefsteak tomato seedlings. I blame my dad for this one, but he doesn't know it yet (sorry dad!). See, the seedlings were delicate and fragile, but they were outgrowing their containers. So I transplanted them into larger containers, but then there was no room for them inside under the lights. Seeing as how our apartment is a dungeon and the porch gets little sunlight, I had little choice but to set them outside in the garden. I consulted my dad for advice, and he agreed. The seedlings lasted barely 48 hours. The eggplant seedlings are barely hanging on. Fortunately, the romas are warm and cozy inside and under the lamps.

So later today, I picked up an eggplant plant and I rescued a tomato plant from our garden's community seedling collection. I hope it perks up.

On the way home from the gym today, I stopped by the garden and came across the kids from the nearby day care admiring our garden plot (supervised of course). Well, to be fair, they were running around and admiring everyone's garden plot and they just so happened to be at mine as I walked up. But, they seemed impressed, and I distinctly remember hearing a kid excitedly shout "hey, look at this!" So, despite killing off some seedlings, we must be doing something right.

the first harvest

The garden, in case you're wondering (and I know you are!), is doing swimmingly. What does that even mean? I don't know, but I think it means that things are going well. So, even though our sunflower is wilting, the rest of the garden is doing well.

Today I got to harvest our first cherry tomato. Is it still a harvest if I pick only one thing? See that red cherry tomato? That's the one I picked. And subsequently ate. It was a bit tart, which probably means I shouldn't have been so eager to pluck it off the vine, but it was still good.
Pretty soon, I will get to pick this:
It's all very exciting, but I'm also a little nervous. See, I can handle picking and eating ripe veggies one or two or maybe even three at a time. But what happens when there's more than that to pick? I'm not so worried about the picking part, it's the eating and preserving part that makes me nervous. I mean, when I look at this pepper plant, on my hand, I'm amazed and excited to get peppers. But on the other hand, I think "holy crap, what will I do with all those peppers?"

Do you see what I mean? And we don't have just one pepper plant. We have 4 green pepper plants and 4 red pepper plants. I'm not really worried about the red peppers, because I have a plan for those (roast, marinate, and can). But I don't have a plan for the green peppers. And I know I should have thought of this earlier, but I'm not sure I like green peppers enough to warrant having 4 green pepper plants. At this point, you might be wondering why we got so many pepper plants. The reason is for insurance purposes, in case one or two died. It's the same reason that we have 4 eggplants seedlings, and 13 tomato plant seedlings.

Despite my mixed feelings, I'm happy with the garden and confident that we'll find a use for everything.

mount palomar winery

Temecula is known for its wineries, and we couldn't leave without visiting one.

Drew and I decided to check out the Mount Palomar Winery. He doesn't drink wine (except maybe dessert wine), but I decided to do a wine tasting. I tasted 6 different wines, choosing from a variety of white wines, red wines, and dessert wines. We ended the tasting with a rich dessert wine that had notes of hazelnut and caramel. It was really good, and we went home with a bottle.

The winery was quite pretty and we had a nice walk around the grounds.
The wineries are only a few miles outside of Temecula, but you'd never know it with these views:
Here is the wedding/special event section:


And the endless grape vines:
All in all, the winery had about 50 acres of land. (I know this because I asked, not because I'm a land surveyor or anything)

This was a great way to wrap up our mini-vacation. We got back to Irvine on Wednesday, and yesterday morning, Drew left for Beijing. He will be gone for 7 weeks to learn Chinese. He is enrolled at a language program at Beijing Normal University. I will try to keep you posted on his adventures.