Last Saturday morning myself and a bunch of other people found ourselves heading over to the University of Texas campus to help our fellow man out. (Note, in this post I will most likely repeatedly refer to UT. Let it be known to my Aggie brethren, I am typing t.u. in my heart, I just don't want to confuse people.) HCBC-UT hosted their third annual move-in day at UT. This was the first time I was able (or willing) to travel to the campus to help incoming freshman and sophomores move into their dorm rooms. I came away thinking several things. Here are my several thoughts:
1) I wish we had people helping me move in my freshman year. And every subsequent move after that. Other than mom and dad, they are required to help their daughter move.
2) I got a cool shirt. It is yellow. I did not think I would like a yellow shirt, but I do.
3) People were floored that we were there to help them move in. Shocked, even. That rocked.
4) Moving is fun...if you are not the one moving.
5) I go to a great church who love the campus, love the students, and fully embrace all that is a college church. And I think getting a tattoo is a requirement to work there.
6) Girls like the color pink. A lot. If the girls I moved in could have painted their rooms pink and gotten all pink furniture, they would have.
7) What we did was so simple. Lifting a few boxes, holding doors open, staying upbeat and positive. How many simple things am I missing out on doing?
8) The two dorms I moved people into smelled. And not sweaty dorm smell. One smelled like bacon. The other smelled like my grandmother's biscuits. That is just wrong. UT, that is cruel and unusual punishment. It also completely takes the college students' excuse of "I need more money. The food here is terrible. I have to eat at Austin Pizza everyday." Mom and dad know the food is good, they smelled it.
9) This was the most enjoyable few hours of my life since I worked in East Austin. Helping others feels so selfish at times. You are the one who gets the warm fuzzies afterward. I think it could be addictive. But what an addiction to have.
10) If HCBC UT keeps its mission focused on the campus, incredible things are going to occur at UT, in Austin, and across the world. Thank you, HCBC UT, for daring to think big and challenge greatly.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Chicks on Sticks
Okay, now that my title has grabbed the male eye, let me tell you about Alton Brown's Chick on Sticks, better known as Chicken Satay. This is another recipe discovered in his book I'm Just Here for the Food: Version 2.0. I am not a ginormous fan of cookbooks as I feel slightly overwhelmed by the options held within the covers, but I have yet to keep one of Alton's (we're on a first name basis) on the shelf for more than a month. He has great information about what to use when cooking and how to use what you have to cook. There is even a section in this book about how to use a flower pot to cook a chicken. It that not awesome?
I was unable to find the exact recipe online, so you will have to work with my descriptions and "close to actual recipe" links or bug me for the recipe via email. What you need to start off with (hardware) is a grill, grill pan, or good skillet; skewers that fit on your cooking surface (in my first attempt, I had to cut my skewers to fit the pan); a bowl; some measuring implements, both cups and spoons; a whisk; cutting board and knife; plastic wrap; and a mallet. Oh yes, this is one of those anger management dishes. Perfect for bad days at work, finals, and break-ups.
Software (the ingredients), you can refer to this close approximation to the peanut sauce made for marinating the chicken and dipping (ignore the shrimp part, skip down to the peanut sauce portion). Chicken - you will need 4 breasts, or several chicken tenders if what is about to come disgusts you. Place plastic wrap on the cutting board, put a chicken breast on it, and fold the plastic wrap over (make sure to cut more than just enough to cover the board). Proceed to whack the chicken with the mallet until it is about 1/4 inch thick. Oh, and chicky pieces may spew out the sides depending on the force of the whamming. Cut flattened meat lengthwise into 1-inch strips. Repeat for all breasts. Place chicken pieces in large zip top bag with 1/2 to 1 cup of the peanut sauce mix and let marinate in the fridge for at least 2 hours. You can keep the leftover sauce (now the dipping sauce) on the counter if you are going to eat it that evening. If not, cover it and pop it in the fridge.
After letting it hang out in the fridge for 2 hours or more, take your bag out and skewer the pieces on (guess what?) skewers! (And go ahead and preheat your grill to 350 or 400 degrees.) My personal method is the "over, under, over" means, but go with whatever you like, just make sure those babies are on the skewer and will not fall off mid-cooking. And yes, this will be messy with the sauce and the rawness. After skewering, throw away the marinating bag. Do NOT use the remaining sauce for dipping unless you like E. coli and salmonella, mkay? And wash your hands, no one like peanut sauce and chicken juice fingerprints.
Plop the skewered meat on the grill leaving space between the skewers so the heat can circulate, cooking each side about 2-3 minutes. The first batch will be the test to see if you need to raise or lower the heat, make sure to cut into one skewer and check for doneness. After cooking all the meat, grab the dipping sauce and get to eating. This is a great group food as people can choose their own portion amounts and is a cleaner-to-eat version of buffalo wings or whatever they are called. Cook some rice or Asian noodles, use the meat for lettuce wraps, throw it on a salad. It is your food and your mouth, go wild!
I was unable to find the exact recipe online, so you will have to work with my descriptions and "close to actual recipe" links or bug me for the recipe via email. What you need to start off with (hardware) is a grill, grill pan, or good skillet; skewers that fit on your cooking surface (in my first attempt, I had to cut my skewers to fit the pan); a bowl; some measuring implements, both cups and spoons; a whisk; cutting board and knife; plastic wrap; and a mallet. Oh yes, this is one of those anger management dishes. Perfect for bad days at work, finals, and break-ups.
Software (the ingredients), you can refer to this close approximation to the peanut sauce made for marinating the chicken and dipping (ignore the shrimp part, skip down to the peanut sauce portion). Chicken - you will need 4 breasts, or several chicken tenders if what is about to come disgusts you. Place plastic wrap on the cutting board, put a chicken breast on it, and fold the plastic wrap over (make sure to cut more than just enough to cover the board). Proceed to whack the chicken with the mallet until it is about 1/4 inch thick. Oh, and chicky pieces may spew out the sides depending on the force of the whamming. Cut flattened meat lengthwise into 1-inch strips. Repeat for all breasts. Place chicken pieces in large zip top bag with 1/2 to 1 cup of the peanut sauce mix and let marinate in the fridge for at least 2 hours. You can keep the leftover sauce (now the dipping sauce) on the counter if you are going to eat it that evening. If not, cover it and pop it in the fridge.
After letting it hang out in the fridge for 2 hours or more, take your bag out and skewer the pieces on (guess what?) skewers! (And go ahead and preheat your grill to 350 or 400 degrees.) My personal method is the "over, under, over" means, but go with whatever you like, just make sure those babies are on the skewer and will not fall off mid-cooking. And yes, this will be messy with the sauce and the rawness. After skewering, throw away the marinating bag. Do NOT use the remaining sauce for dipping unless you like E. coli and salmonella, mkay? And wash your hands, no one like peanut sauce and chicken juice fingerprints.
Plop the skewered meat on the grill leaving space between the skewers so the heat can circulate, cooking each side about 2-3 minutes. The first batch will be the test to see if you need to raise or lower the heat, make sure to cut into one skewer and check for doneness. After cooking all the meat, grab the dipping sauce and get to eating. This is a great group food as people can choose their own portion amounts and is a cleaner-to-eat version of buffalo wings or whatever they are called. Cook some rice or Asian noodles, use the meat for lettuce wraps, throw it on a salad. It is your food and your mouth, go wild!
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Let them eat flapjacks
I have a sudden glut of topics to write about. And, unlike the highly organized and methodical person I am, I am going to forgo the ideal chronological order of these "discoveries" and cut straight to the latest, greatest, and freshest on my mind. Kerbey Lane pancakes. Go ahead and click on the link..see the pancakes in the background behind their name? Yeah, they are great. If you order a short stack that is by no means short, you get 2 pancakes as big as the plate and each about an inch thick. These, my friends, are pancakes. Pancake types include blueberry, buttermilk, apple whole wheat, and, my personal favorite, gingerbread. If you are ever in Austin long enough to allow you to eat, find a Kerbey Lane Cafe and enjoy pancakes, migas, breakfast tacos, or omelets. I have tried them all and there is not a weak player in the bunch.
Back to me and the pancakes. I was reading the Austin-American Statesman on my lunch break about a month ago and there was a note in the Food & Life section. This weekly section is devoted to letting readers know about new kitchen gadgets, chefs and restaurants in Austin, and seasonal food favorites around the area. And today, there was a little paragraph about how Kerbey Lane Cafe is now making their pancake mixes available at area HEBs. Could it be true, two of my favorite places combining forces and providing me with happy grocery shopping and pancakes? I hit the road to find out for myself.
HEB Plus at the corner of Anderson Mill and 620, around noon on a lazy Saturday, baking aisle, beside Aunt Jemima and Bisquick, a column of brown paper bags with the familiar logo donning its front. Kerbey Lane Cafe buttermilk pancake mix. The Hallelujah chorus rang out from the speakers and the overhead lighting shone a little bit brighter. Unfortunately, the gingerbread mix had sold out, but I snatched up a 2-pound bag of the buttermilk mix. Excitedly, I took the bag home and awaited a Saturday morning to make pancakes and lounge on the couch.
Cut to today. Not a Saturday, potential lounging on the couch, and a definite desire for breakfast at dinner. Out came the Kerbey Lane pancake mix! Little water, one egg, some oil, mix and batter was made. At this point there is something I must confess, two things actually. First, I love pancakes of all shapes and sizes. They are great with butter, syrup, peanut butter, jam, or fresh fruit. Secondly, I have many troubles making pancakes. I manage to char the outside without completely cooking the inside. Yuck. Understandably, I went into this a little nervous for my dear pancakes. Kept the stove temp down, did not overmix the batter as to keep the airiness of it.
After making 5 pancakes (as the directions told me they would - I like it when their portioning matches my portions), I took a pancake, buttered it and gave it a little syrup. I cut a wedge out from the round. I had to put my fork down after that first bite. Oh my. If you had asked me pre-Kerbey what a pancake should taste like, I would probably refer more to the sugary toppings and not the pancake itself. But now I know. These are the best pancakes I have ever had in my life, without a shadow of a doubt. They are light, springy, and tangy from the buttermilk. I could actually taste the pancake through the syrup and butter. As Paula Deen would say, "Ooh, honey. You better slap your mama, that's so good." Each bite was divine.
If there is an HEB or Kerbey Lane Cafe within an hour of you, go. Go now and get yourself some buttermilk pancake mix. And if HEB and Kerbey Lane Cafe are a little too far for you, order some online. Go all out and get a taste of all the kinds with the pancake mix trio, it is only $21. Your mouth will thank you. (And they include a recipe page with each bag with other things you can make with the mix like muffins, cookies, and crepes!)
Back to me and the pancakes. I was reading the Austin-American Statesman on my lunch break about a month ago and there was a note in the Food & Life section. This weekly section is devoted to letting readers know about new kitchen gadgets, chefs and restaurants in Austin, and seasonal food favorites around the area. And today, there was a little paragraph about how Kerbey Lane Cafe is now making their pancake mixes available at area HEBs. Could it be true, two of my favorite places combining forces and providing me with happy grocery shopping and pancakes? I hit the road to find out for myself.
HEB Plus at the corner of Anderson Mill and 620, around noon on a lazy Saturday, baking aisle, beside Aunt Jemima and Bisquick, a column of brown paper bags with the familiar logo donning its front. Kerbey Lane Cafe buttermilk pancake mix. The Hallelujah chorus rang out from the speakers and the overhead lighting shone a little bit brighter. Unfortunately, the gingerbread mix had sold out, but I snatched up a 2-pound bag of the buttermilk mix. Excitedly, I took the bag home and awaited a Saturday morning to make pancakes and lounge on the couch.
Cut to today. Not a Saturday, potential lounging on the couch, and a definite desire for breakfast at dinner. Out came the Kerbey Lane pancake mix! Little water, one egg, some oil, mix and batter was made. At this point there is something I must confess, two things actually. First, I love pancakes of all shapes and sizes. They are great with butter, syrup, peanut butter, jam, or fresh fruit. Secondly, I have many troubles making pancakes. I manage to char the outside without completely cooking the inside. Yuck. Understandably, I went into this a little nervous for my dear pancakes. Kept the stove temp down, did not overmix the batter as to keep the airiness of it.
After making 5 pancakes (as the directions told me they would - I like it when their portioning matches my portions), I took a pancake, buttered it and gave it a little syrup. I cut a wedge out from the round. I had to put my fork down after that first bite. Oh my. If you had asked me pre-Kerbey what a pancake should taste like, I would probably refer more to the sugary toppings and not the pancake itself. But now I know. These are the best pancakes I have ever had in my life, without a shadow of a doubt. They are light, springy, and tangy from the buttermilk. I could actually taste the pancake through the syrup and butter. As Paula Deen would say, "Ooh, honey. You better slap your mama, that's so good." Each bite was divine.
If there is an HEB or Kerbey Lane Cafe within an hour of you, go. Go now and get yourself some buttermilk pancake mix. And if HEB and Kerbey Lane Cafe are a little too far for you, order some online. Go all out and get a taste of all the kinds with the pancake mix trio, it is only $21. Your mouth will thank you. (And they include a recipe page with each bag with other things you can make with the mix like muffins, cookies, and crepes!)
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Care to Remember?
This past weekend, I watched a documentary entitled Unknown White Male. I had heard about this film some time ago from a blog I read, and the premise intrigued me. Thirty-something man wakes up one morning on the New York subway, not visible injuries or trauma, and has no idea where he is or who he is. His episodic memory is completely gone, meaning he cannot remember any events from his life. Through a series of situations, he contacts someone who does know him, he is Doug, a British photographer, former stock broker. The film is his journey to reunite with people from his "other" life and sort through what he did and did not like about his old life.
As I watched film reel and heard stories about Doug's old life, I gathered that he and his group of friends were wealthy people with money to burn and fun to be had. Climbing mountains in Bolivia, summering on the Mediterranean, expecting and getting things when and how they wanted them. They were arrogant and did not care about the consequences. So, given this background, one would expect Doug to talk about how beautiful life is and great it is to get a chance to experience things all over again (fireworks, chocolate mousse, love, snow, etc.).
But Doug does not display a sense of loss over his memory. He comments that he is not sure he wants his memory back, and sees no real need to figure out what happened to make it go away. Sure he cannot remember growing up, his mother (who died), or all those little moments that grow a person, but he does not seem to mind.
So, the film is not looking at the loss Doug experienced, it must be focusing on the rebirth. Right? Wrong again. Doug goes to school to better his photography, there is some quip about how his portraits reflect loss, but to me it looked like a bunch of head shots of people staring, bored. Doug has a new girlfriend, but he gave all appearances that he was just along for the ride of the relationship. Although, when he talked about her, it was one of the few times we saw Doug happy and smiling.
Here is another issue brought up in some of the amazon.com reviews. It is quite possible this documentary is a fake. Filmmaker friends got together and thought how they could make a film that is different and would appeal to people by its synopsis. There is no way to prove this to be an actual event or not other than by talking with those in the project or friends of Doug. However, if it was a fabrication, what was the message the film was trying to send?
As I watched film reel and heard stories about Doug's old life, I gathered that he and his group of friends were wealthy people with money to burn and fun to be had. Climbing mountains in Bolivia, summering on the Mediterranean, expecting and getting things when and how they wanted them. They were arrogant and did not care about the consequences. So, given this background, one would expect Doug to talk about how beautiful life is and great it is to get a chance to experience things all over again (fireworks, chocolate mousse, love, snow, etc.).
But Doug does not display a sense of loss over his memory. He comments that he is not sure he wants his memory back, and sees no real need to figure out what happened to make it go away. Sure he cannot remember growing up, his mother (who died), or all those little moments that grow a person, but he does not seem to mind.
So, the film is not looking at the loss Doug experienced, it must be focusing on the rebirth. Right? Wrong again. Doug goes to school to better his photography, there is some quip about how his portraits reflect loss, but to me it looked like a bunch of head shots of people staring, bored. Doug has a new girlfriend, but he gave all appearances that he was just along for the ride of the relationship. Although, when he talked about her, it was one of the few times we saw Doug happy and smiling.
Here is another issue brought up in some of the amazon.com reviews. It is quite possible this documentary is a fake. Filmmaker friends got together and thought how they could make a film that is different and would appeal to people by its synopsis. There is no way to prove this to be an actual event or not other than by talking with those in the project or friends of Doug. However, if it was a fabrication, what was the message the film was trying to send?
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Eat, Pray, Love
Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert is an okay book. Gilbert did not stun me with how intimate or transparent she was in her writing about her year-long journey through Italy, India, and Indonesia. Quick rundown of the story: Gilbert gets a divorce from her husband, does not know who she is or what she wants to do with her now-single life. So, she decides to take a year off from New York City and spend 4 months in Italy eating pasta and learning about passion, 4 months in India learning about Yoga and finding spirituality, and 4 months in Indonesia figuring out the balance between passion and spirituality. Or something.
To me, the book read like a self-help book. But not a self-help book to help the reader, a self-help book for Elizabeth Gilbert. And, if it were to be a self-help book for the reader, how many people could follow Gilbert's plan and spend a year traveling the world "finding" themselves? So much of the book seemed trite, immature and shallow. I think her goal was to instill an amount of humor and lightness to what could be seen as a pretty depressing time in her life. Yes, there were funny parts, but it was not a humorous book.
One of the issues, I think, was Gilbert's aim to have a balance with each section of the book (country) she went to. Italy was fun to read about, wine, gelato, and touring, but it read much like a newly-graduated college girl experiencing her first trip away from the parents. The Indonesia (Bali) section was colorful to read and I could feel how relaxing it must have been for Gilbert to be there. Which brings us to India. India went on for entirely too long. I got it, it was hard for Gilbert to stop thinking and just meditate. She did not like the song they had to chant every morning. She thought the Yogic master was intimidating. I do not need to read each of these things every other chapter. There was very little "light" side in the India section. I wanted to read about the food she ate, any illnesses she suffered from, any quirky people at the ashram. Something other than how hard it is to meditate and whether she still loved Daniel (old boyfriend) or not. Grow up, Gilbert.
Now, I am going to put forth a disclaimer. Perhaps I went into the reading of this book with wrong expectations. I thought it was going to be a travel journal about different cultures, foods, practices, and lives as viewed from the eyes of an all-American girl. So, when I began to read, the book came off more like the entries in a teenage girl's diary than a 30-something woman taking a year to seek out the commonalities and positive and negative differences between her life and the lives people live in Italy, India, and Indonesia. All-in-all, this book is no Julie and Julia, Heat or The Know-It-All.
To me, the book read like a self-help book. But not a self-help book to help the reader, a self-help book for Elizabeth Gilbert. And, if it were to be a self-help book for the reader, how many people could follow Gilbert's plan and spend a year traveling the world "finding" themselves? So much of the book seemed trite, immature and shallow. I think her goal was to instill an amount of humor and lightness to what could be seen as a pretty depressing time in her life. Yes, there were funny parts, but it was not a humorous book.
One of the issues, I think, was Gilbert's aim to have a balance with each section of the book (country) she went to. Italy was fun to read about, wine, gelato, and touring, but it read much like a newly-graduated college girl experiencing her first trip away from the parents. The Indonesia (Bali) section was colorful to read and I could feel how relaxing it must have been for Gilbert to be there. Which brings us to India. India went on for entirely too long. I got it, it was hard for Gilbert to stop thinking and just meditate. She did not like the song they had to chant every morning. She thought the Yogic master was intimidating. I do not need to read each of these things every other chapter. There was very little "light" side in the India section. I wanted to read about the food she ate, any illnesses she suffered from, any quirky people at the ashram. Something other than how hard it is to meditate and whether she still loved Daniel (old boyfriend) or not. Grow up, Gilbert.
Now, I am going to put forth a disclaimer. Perhaps I went into the reading of this book with wrong expectations. I thought it was going to be a travel journal about different cultures, foods, practices, and lives as viewed from the eyes of an all-American girl. So, when I began to read, the book came off more like the entries in a teenage girl's diary than a 30-something woman taking a year to seek out the commonalities and positive and negative differences between her life and the lives people live in Italy, India, and Indonesia. All-in-all, this book is no Julie and Julia, Heat or The Know-It-All.
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