...that I'd like this picture. And that I'd link to it on a blog titled "Word-Fu". Even though it's a visual joke.
By the way, it's by someone named Russell Weekes. I found it on his webpage among other of his works (some of which I like and some of which I don't). I found the link initially thanks to kottke.org.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Daily Coyote
I found this blog the other day via Cute Overload. Pictures and entries about one woman's experience raising an orphaned coyote pup in Wyoming. Enjoy!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
“It is not down in any map; true places never are.”
I've been thinking about city layouts. It goes without saying that Paris is not laid out like New York or Portland or even London. But it seems like European cities (the ones I've seen so far) are distinctively different than US cities. European cities largely seem to grow up and out around initial markets or other central locations. They are a mess of streets zigzagging to and fro and especially in the larger ones, you cannot navigate without a map, or better yet, a book of maps. Londoners habitually carry with them something called an A to Z (don't forget to pronounce the Zed), and I now fully believe the story I had heard that London cabbies study for years before becoming such.
On my way to get bubble tea two days ago, I rode past Rue Nicolas Flamel. I didn't look thoroughly, but I'm pretty sure there weren't any sorcerer's stones there. I also passed Rue de Rohan, but didn't see any horsemen.
On my way to get bubble tea two days ago, I rode past Rue Nicolas Flamel. I didn't look thoroughly, but I'm pretty sure there weren't any sorcerer's stones there. I also passed Rue de Rohan, but didn't see any horsemen.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Velib'
One thing I've really enjoyed about Paris is fairly new to the city: the Velib' system. Velib' was introduced this June (or early July) by Mayor Betrand Delanoë as an alternative public transportation system in an attempt to reduce city traffic and pollution. It is, essentially, a nearly free public bike exchange. (Velib' comes from velo, bicycle, and libre, free, or libert&eaccute;, liberty.)
How does Velib' work? Funny you should ask. The Velib' system consists of numerous stations situated throughout Paris. Each station includes generally 8 to 25 specially designed bicycles parked at electronic docking stations and linked to a computer terminal that facilitates checking out bikes, finding nearby stations, and getting information. You check out a bike by signing up (with a bank or credit card) for a day-, week-, or year-long pass (1, 5, and 29 Euro respectively) at a terminal and then choosing a bike to check out with your pass. Once you free the bike from its dock, you can ride it anywhere in the city for half an hour before you have to return it to any available dock at any other station. If you're late, you get charged an incrementally increasing fee. If you never return the bike, you have two disadvantages: the bikes are distinctive so everyone will know that you stole one, and you'll be charged 150 Euro for your failure to return it.
Today I needed to go to Shakespeare & Co Bookstore before meeting V and some friends for rehearsal (more on that another time), so I grabbed a Velib' bike and took off north. The bikes are not particularly light and only have three speeds, but you can still get going fairly well with them if you push. And as long as you know (more or less) where you're going, you can make pretty good time. (If you don't, it's easy to get lost; Paris is not easy to navigate without a map.) It only took me about fifteen minutes to go the distance I needed, which was fine with me because it left me time to window shop (faire du lêche-vitrine, or to "window-lick" in French) a bit.
I've been thinking about Velib' a lot lately. I like the system--it has its quirks, but it's neat and clever and accessible. The bikes are already needing a bit of repair, but in general they're sturdy and versatile, equipped with head and tail lights, carrying basket, lock, bell, mud guards, and easily adjustable comfy seat. They're much cheaper than cars and they encourage greater commuter activity. They've been invaluable during the recent strikes (la/les grève;/s). And they create far less pollution than automobiles. Their short range is perfect for city commuting--you can typically get across half the city within your 30-minute free window, and then you can walk or wait for ten minutes to go further. Or if you really need it, you can take the metro, which in Paris is extremely efficient as long as the workers aren't protesting something.
According to Wikipedia, there are similar schemes active in a number of European cities. I'd really like to see this idea take hold in the US, though. I think it would be perfect for a lot of dense cities--New York (provided the bikes aren't stolen or vandalized), Boston, Washington, Seattle, all would be good candidates. Even smaller cities (either Portland, New Haven, etc.) could make good use of such a setup. It would reduce pollution, free up space in the streets by diminishing automobile traffic, and give people a much needed opportunity for exercise without having to buy, store, and protect their own bicycles. Has anyone run into US cities that do such a thing?
How does Velib' work? Funny you should ask. The Velib' system consists of numerous stations situated throughout Paris. Each station includes generally 8 to 25 specially designed bicycles parked at electronic docking stations and linked to a computer terminal that facilitates checking out bikes, finding nearby stations, and getting information. You check out a bike by signing up (with a bank or credit card) for a day-, week-, or year-long pass (1, 5, and 29 Euro respectively) at a terminal and then choosing a bike to check out with your pass. Once you free the bike from its dock, you can ride it anywhere in the city for half an hour before you have to return it to any available dock at any other station. If you're late, you get charged an incrementally increasing fee. If you never return the bike, you have two disadvantages: the bikes are distinctive so everyone will know that you stole one, and you'll be charged 150 Euro for your failure to return it.
Today I needed to go to Shakespeare & Co Bookstore before meeting V and some friends for rehearsal (more on that another time), so I grabbed a Velib' bike and took off north. The bikes are not particularly light and only have three speeds, but you can still get going fairly well with them if you push. And as long as you know (more or less) where you're going, you can make pretty good time. (If you don't, it's easy to get lost; Paris is not easy to navigate without a map.) It only took me about fifteen minutes to go the distance I needed, which was fine with me because it left me time to window shop (faire du lêche-vitrine, or to "window-lick" in French) a bit.
I've been thinking about Velib' a lot lately. I like the system--it has its quirks, but it's neat and clever and accessible. The bikes are already needing a bit of repair, but in general they're sturdy and versatile, equipped with head and tail lights, carrying basket, lock, bell, mud guards, and easily adjustable comfy seat. They're much cheaper than cars and they encourage greater commuter activity. They've been invaluable during the recent strikes (la/les grève;/s). And they create far less pollution than automobiles. Their short range is perfect for city commuting--you can typically get across half the city within your 30-minute free window, and then you can walk or wait for ten minutes to go further. Or if you really need it, you can take the metro, which in Paris is extremely efficient as long as the workers aren't protesting something.
According to Wikipedia, there are similar schemes active in a number of European cities. I'd really like to see this idea take hold in the US, though. I think it would be perfect for a lot of dense cities--New York (provided the bikes aren't stolen or vandalized), Boston, Washington, Seattle, all would be good candidates. Even smaller cities (either Portland, New Haven, etc.) could make good use of such a setup. It would reduce pollution, free up space in the streets by diminishing automobile traffic, and give people a much needed opportunity for exercise without having to buy, store, and protect their own bicycles. Has anyone run into US cities that do such a thing?
Friday, November 30, 2007
Habits, Addictions, and Old Comforts
One of the funnier things about living in another country, I've been learning, is discovering what you miss about your own country. Since I moved to the UK in September, I'd been feeling a large sense of relief at "escaping" the US. I was excited to experience a new culture and to be free of the confines of my own at least enough to see better what they were. I felt I had missed something by not going abroad during my junior year of college, and now I was making up for it. (I was, and still am, also pursuing love and romance with an amazing woman.)
I was, I'll admit, a little disappointed at the less-than-exotic feel of England at first. The language wasn't very different and the culture didn't seem so either, to begin with. I could get many of the same foods--I could even go into a Burger King or a Starbucks if I felt so inclined. But everyone around me spoke like a movie villain, which in itself was pretty cool. It was also sometimes absurd, as when a perfect posh British or Cockney accent spewed from the mouth of a 3-year-old. But I'm sure the same is felt by Brits coming to the United States.
Still, in England, there were some things I started to miss: bubble tea (which I've really been missing since I left Portland, OR), for one, and, surprisingly, salt and vinegar potato chips (sorry, crisps). The English are huge fans of salt and vinegar crisps (sorry, chips), but none of the varieties I found used very strong vinegar--always malt or cider or occasionally balsamic, none of which had the right bite. (Boo, pout, tantrum, etc.)
Ironically, now that I'm in Paris with V, I've been missing something I discovered in the UK: namely, Fentiman's Curiosity Cola. It's fantastic! Delicious and addicting! And it hits a bit of a weak spot in me, i.e., my taste for gourmet sodas. What's strange, though, is that it has got me drinking Coca-Cola again (somewhat). I stopped in the States because I stopped liking it, and because it made my stomach uncomfortable and gave me heartburn, and because I had begun to read about the negative aspects of high-fructose corn syrup. But Fentiman's addiction plus the discovery that in Europe, Coke is made with sugar rather than corn syrup, has got me opening up to it again. But I'm not sure I'm very happy about this. I'd rather be drinking Curiosity Cola. Heh.
But it's also interesting to note that despite my relief at moving outside of the US (which is partly relief at escaping a sphere of movement that had become too confining for me at the moment), I find myself taking little bits of pleasure in chance encounters with "American" things--a Snickers bar on the shelf in a magasin, a snippet of conversation in US English, and most especially Thanksgiving dinner. I think this is largely the comforting effect of familiarity--of receiving small reminders of an old home that I no longer live in (for now), and needed to leave, but that is still in some ways home, if only because it and I have so much connection.
I was, I'll admit, a little disappointed at the less-than-exotic feel of England at first. The language wasn't very different and the culture didn't seem so either, to begin with. I could get many of the same foods--I could even go into a Burger King or a Starbucks if I felt so inclined. But everyone around me spoke like a movie villain, which in itself was pretty cool. It was also sometimes absurd, as when a perfect posh British or Cockney accent spewed from the mouth of a 3-year-old. But I'm sure the same is felt by Brits coming to the United States.
Still, in England, there were some things I started to miss: bubble tea (which I've really been missing since I left Portland, OR), for one, and, surprisingly, salt and vinegar potato chips (sorry, crisps). The English are huge fans of salt and vinegar crisps (sorry, chips), but none of the varieties I found used very strong vinegar--always malt or cider or occasionally balsamic, none of which had the right bite. (Boo, pout, tantrum, etc.)
Ironically, now that I'm in Paris with V, I've been missing something I discovered in the UK: namely, Fentiman's Curiosity Cola. It's fantastic! Delicious and addicting! And it hits a bit of a weak spot in me, i.e., my taste for gourmet sodas. What's strange, though, is that it has got me drinking Coca-Cola again (somewhat). I stopped in the States because I stopped liking it, and because it made my stomach uncomfortable and gave me heartburn, and because I had begun to read about the negative aspects of high-fructose corn syrup. But Fentiman's addiction plus the discovery that in Europe, Coke is made with sugar rather than corn syrup, has got me opening up to it again. But I'm not sure I'm very happy about this. I'd rather be drinking Curiosity Cola. Heh.
But it's also interesting to note that despite my relief at moving outside of the US (which is partly relief at escaping a sphere of movement that had become too confining for me at the moment), I find myself taking little bits of pleasure in chance encounters with "American" things--a Snickers bar on the shelf in a magasin, a snippet of conversation in US English, and most especially Thanksgiving dinner. I think this is largely the comforting effect of familiarity--of receiving small reminders of an old home that I no longer live in (for now), and needed to leave, but that is still in some ways home, if only because it and I have so much connection.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thanksgiving in Paris
The first big thing V and I have done since I moved over to Paris eleven days ago was to plan a Thanksgiving dinner for our (read: chiefly her but also becoming my) friends. In theory, it seemed kind of complicated to me: I had in my mind visions of Sinister House galas, twenty-five people spread out across living room and kitchen happily devouring a plethora of pot-luck meals, and I didn't really know how we could equal that glory, especially in our smaller dining space (which is not small by Parisian standards, but is easily dwarfed by the SH kitchen, which dwarfs many things, including elephants). Thankfully, V insisted a week before I moved over that if we were to do it at all, we needed to plan it now.
So Thanksgiving it was going to be. I felt that we couldn't fit many people in the house (the dining table only holds 6 to 8) and imagined an intimate dinner with 5 or 6 close friends chatting face to face across the table. But the guest list expanded as we created it and we discovered that there were no less than 14 people we couldn't not invite. So be it--we could figure out space later.
Initially, too, we tried to arrange for a pot-luck affair in order to divvy up the cost and labor of foodmaking, but since many of our friends don't get out of work until at least 7pm and for some reason the French government hasn't set aside holiday time for Thanksgiving, this didn't work out. In the end, our friend Nusha, a pastry chef in training, made the desserts (wow, did she ever!) and V and I planned and cooked the main meal with a bit of later help from Nusha and Marie.
To sum up so far: the initial idea, a small potluck dinner for 6 doubles in size and becomes a feast for 13 (1 couldn't make it) cooked by 2 with dessert by a 3rd.
Now, I know my stepmother frequently manages large gourmet meals for family and guests completely on her own, but she's a very practiced and dedicated amateur chef. I love cooking, but I do not have her experience or skill. So what surprised me tremendously, after researching recipes (thanks, AllRecipes.com!), was how amazingly doable a Thanksgiving feast is (given, of course, time).
Granted, desserts would have required a good deal of additional planning, and perhaps another day of preparation, but in the end, the process wasn't bad. I made the cranberry sauce (actually, sauce aux airelles because we couldn't find cranberries) the night before because it was easy and needed chilling. I also cut up some baguettes for stuffing and laid them out to air-dry a bit. Thursday, while Virginia was at work, I made the rest of the stuffing (celery, onion, herbs & spices, chicken stock) and began to prep the mashed potatoes. When V got home, she set about making corn bread and I seasoned the turkey and set it in the oven. Then she finished the potatoes while I cleaned. Nusha came over and made a salad and then I made gravy.
By this time, most of the guests had arrived and were getting hungry so we let the turkey out of the oven to play with some carving knives before serving everything. Along with the several bottles of wine that showed up with the invitees, we had a pretty savory meal. Thirteen people crowded around two tables stretched between dining and cooking areas, the room filled with banter and conversation.
Chef's Review
As I noted above, most of the recipes came from AllRecipes.com, and practically all of them were both good and fairly uncomplicated.
Cranberry sauce is pretty much just cranberry sauce--the recipe I found didn't differ significantly from the one printed on the backs of Ocean Spray cranberry packs, and we only added orange zest at the end because we could and to account for the slightly sweeter taste of the airelles. (I added a little extra sugar at first because V found a source on the Web that suggested airelles were a bit sourer than cranberries. In retrospect, I think this wasn't necessary. Also in retrospect, more flavor might be pulled from the orange zest if it's added before cooking the cranberries.)
The mashed potatoes were excellent: light, fluffy, and full of flavor. Virginia got amazing compliments on them and many questions about what went into them.
The homemade stuffing turned out well, but possibly could have used some more salt or broth to flavor it. Maybe if we had found space inside the turkeys....
The turkey was probably the best Thanksgiving turkey I've ever had. Due to issues of availability and oven size, we used two 3kg birds, frozen and prestuffed with some sort of giblet-and-chestnut mixture. They thawed easily and cooked simultaneously in 1h40m. I think their small size helped them cook well without losing too much moisture; the herb and oil rub specified by the recipe became a sauce that we used to baste the birds, and probably also contributed a lot to their moistness. And the flavors...wow.
The gravy was also good, but it started off very liquidy and reducing it took a long time. We shortened the process by adding in a "dry roux" (thanks, Nusha!), basically a tablespoon or so of butter and the same of flour mixed together, moistened with a few spoonfuls of the gravy, and then mixed in. I used chicken stock instead of turkey, but added pan drippings from the turkey for extra flavor.
Only the cornbread disappointed me and V, though no one else offered complaint. It was a decent recipe but not spectacular, just slightly too salty and powdery, not sweet enough for me and too sweet for Virginia. We chose the recipe because we couldn't find vegetable shortening in the stores here.
Even with 13 people, we still have leftovers, though by now they're down to some remaining stuffing and a little bit of turkey. Last night we took care of most of the meat by making a delicious turkey pot pie. (That's your cue to get jealous.)
So Thanksgiving it was going to be. I felt that we couldn't fit many people in the house (the dining table only holds 6 to 8) and imagined an intimate dinner with 5 or 6 close friends chatting face to face across the table. But the guest list expanded as we created it and we discovered that there were no less than 14 people we couldn't not invite. So be it--we could figure out space later.
Initially, too, we tried to arrange for a pot-luck affair in order to divvy up the cost and labor of foodmaking, but since many of our friends don't get out of work until at least 7pm and for some reason the French government hasn't set aside holiday time for Thanksgiving, this didn't work out. In the end, our friend Nusha, a pastry chef in training, made the desserts (wow, did she ever!) and V and I planned and cooked the main meal with a bit of later help from Nusha and Marie.
To sum up so far: the initial idea, a small potluck dinner for 6 doubles in size and becomes a feast for 13 (1 couldn't make it) cooked by 2 with dessert by a 3rd.
Now, I know my stepmother frequently manages large gourmet meals for family and guests completely on her own, but she's a very practiced and dedicated amateur chef. I love cooking, but I do not have her experience or skill. So what surprised me tremendously, after researching recipes (thanks, AllRecipes.com!), was how amazingly doable a Thanksgiving feast is (given, of course, time).
Granted, desserts would have required a good deal of additional planning, and perhaps another day of preparation, but in the end, the process wasn't bad. I made the cranberry sauce (actually, sauce aux airelles because we couldn't find cranberries) the night before because it was easy and needed chilling. I also cut up some baguettes for stuffing and laid them out to air-dry a bit. Thursday, while Virginia was at work, I made the rest of the stuffing (celery, onion, herbs & spices, chicken stock) and began to prep the mashed potatoes. When V got home, she set about making corn bread and I seasoned the turkey and set it in the oven. Then she finished the potatoes while I cleaned. Nusha came over and made a salad and then I made gravy.
By this time, most of the guests had arrived and were getting hungry so we let the turkey out of the oven to play with some carving knives before serving everything. Along with the several bottles of wine that showed up with the invitees, we had a pretty savory meal. Thirteen people crowded around two tables stretched between dining and cooking areas, the room filled with banter and conversation.
Chef's Review
As I noted above, most of the recipes came from AllRecipes.com, and practically all of them were both good and fairly uncomplicated.
Cranberry sauce is pretty much just cranberry sauce--the recipe I found didn't differ significantly from the one printed on the backs of Ocean Spray cranberry packs, and we only added orange zest at the end because we could and to account for the slightly sweeter taste of the airelles. (I added a little extra sugar at first because V found a source on the Web that suggested airelles were a bit sourer than cranberries. In retrospect, I think this wasn't necessary. Also in retrospect, more flavor might be pulled from the orange zest if it's added before cooking the cranberries.)
The mashed potatoes were excellent: light, fluffy, and full of flavor. Virginia got amazing compliments on them and many questions about what went into them.
The homemade stuffing turned out well, but possibly could have used some more salt or broth to flavor it. Maybe if we had found space inside the turkeys....
The turkey was probably the best Thanksgiving turkey I've ever had. Due to issues of availability and oven size, we used two 3kg birds, frozen and prestuffed with some sort of giblet-and-chestnut mixture. They thawed easily and cooked simultaneously in 1h40m. I think their small size helped them cook well without losing too much moisture; the herb and oil rub specified by the recipe became a sauce that we used to baste the birds, and probably also contributed a lot to their moistness. And the flavors...wow.
The gravy was also good, but it started off very liquidy and reducing it took a long time. We shortened the process by adding in a "dry roux" (thanks, Nusha!), basically a tablespoon or so of butter and the same of flour mixed together, moistened with a few spoonfuls of the gravy, and then mixed in. I used chicken stock instead of turkey, but added pan drippings from the turkey for extra flavor.
Only the cornbread disappointed me and V, though no one else offered complaint. It was a decent recipe but not spectacular, just slightly too salty and powdery, not sweet enough for me and too sweet for Virginia. We chose the recipe because we couldn't find vegetable shortening in the stores here.
Even with 13 people, we still have leftovers, though by now they're down to some remaining stuffing and a little bit of turkey. Last night we took care of most of the meat by making a delicious turkey pot pie. (That's your cue to get jealous.)
Monday, October 29, 2007
Flip!
My first post from England (shameful: I got here 2 months ago) and it's to say I'm leaving. Decided to move in with Virginia in Paris; now I'm plotting logistics. She'll be out late Tuesday night, we'll go up Wednesday to stay with Julia and Angus in Gloucester, return to London on Sunday, stay the night so that she can get out early in the morning (she'll take a small bag of our stuff with her). Then I'll go back up to stay with J & A for the week, take half of my things over to Paris on the weekend, return on Sunday in time to meet up with my old friend Richard in London Monday and/or Tuesday and/or Wednesday. Then I'll retrieve the rest of my stuff from Gloucester or Reading (wherever it happens to be) and head over to Paris later in the week.
At least, I hope that's how it'll work ;-). Planned events often take unexpected twist. But really, all should be okay--the biggest trouble, I think, is transporting my belongings, which seem to have grown since I came over. Damn.
At least, I hope that's how it'll work ;-). Planned events often take unexpected twist. But really, all should be okay--the biggest trouble, I think, is transporting my belongings, which seem to have grown since I came over. Damn.
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