Culinary Conundrum

A questions for faithful readers and the world wide web:

Is it better to completely clean the kitchen before you start cooking or after you are finished? I feel as though cleaning first gives you a clean slate, while cleaning after leaves you with a clean kitchen and feelings of completeness.

In all my culinary exercises, I've never figure this out and would appreciate your thoughts.

An Open Letter to Cyclists in Cambridge, MA

Dear Cambridge Bicyclers,

I want to start by thanking you. You are doing a wonderful thing by biking wherever it is that you are going. You are taking care for the planet into your own hands, and you should feel proud of that. While other schmucks (like myself) are buzzing from place to place in our air-conditioned, planet-killing, obesity-inducing death pods (otherwise known as cars), you are zipping around on your pollution-free, fitness-creating 10-speed. For this, I commend you and the ozone layer and polar ice caps thank you.

But I have something else that I absolutely must say to you: could you please, please, please, please, please, please stop being such oblivious, knuckle-headed assholes? Now, before you stop reading, please know that this is for your own safety. Even though we don't know each other well, I'm a fairly reasonable and compassionate person (at least I think I am) and I would very much prefer not to kill any of you while I'm going about my daily business. And I'm assuming this is something you would also prefer. So let's get together on it.

You see, when you whip out from the middle of no-where or run a red-light without looking or ride in the crosswalk or ride the wrong-way down a one-way street, you really stress me out a bit. Because I'm not expecting you to do any of those things (mostly because they are illegal). I don't expect things to come out of nowhere. When I watch for things in the crosswalk, I am looking for pedestrians, who move differently and more slowly than bikes. I, usually, assume that traffic will all be moving in one direction on a one-way street, just like I expect cross traffic to stop when they have a red and I have a green (do NOT get me started on bikers who will yell at me and make nasty gestures when I get in their way while they are breaking the law!).

If you are assuming at this point that I am just another oblivious driver who hates the environment and cares nothing for bikers, you are mistaken. I appreciate bikers. I watch out, as best I can, for their welfare. I always give them a wide berth when passing. I ALWAYS look for bikes before turning, making sure not to turn in front of them. I look for bikes before I open the door of my car into the street. I don't drive because I hate the earth, but because I have a complicated work life. And I'm terrible at biking (story for another time.) And, as I said, I am grateful for what you are doing. But that doesn't mean I will always see you or that I will always be able to react quickly enough. And it certainly doesn't mean that you can do whatever you feel like, not wear a helmet and be okay!

I'm just asking, can't we do a little better at sharing the road? I'd like to both remain alive and go about our daily routine with a little more respect for each other. Don't you?

Signed,
Beside-herself Behind-the-wheel

Trash Tragedy

Have I ever told you about my theory that when you witness something tragic you can dissipate the trauma by telling other people about it? For every person, you tell, in fact, the tragedy is halved, because you've passed part of it onto someone else. Mr. Love-it-or-leav-it absolutely LOVES it when I practice this theory (read: he actually really loathes it.) by saying "Do you want to hear the most HORRIBLE, SAD, GUT-WRENCHING thing I saw today?" Anyhow, I'm going to be employing that here.


I witnessed something terrible the other day. I was driving home from the gym on a Wednesday (yes, I drive to the gym, but that's a story for another time). And right in front of our building was the recycling truck, which made sense, because Wednesday is trash day. And, of course, because this is Boston, the recycling truck was parked in the very middle of the street. Not over to the side so cars could pass by, oh no, but right smack-dab in the middle of the street. And so I waited until I could pass. And while I waited I watched the garbage handlers go about there work while feeling good about our neighborhood's level of responsible recycling and eco-stewardship. And then I realized something horrible was happening: they were dumping all the recycling into the same place!

Now just to be clear, in Cambridge, we do not have co-mingled recycling. We have VERY clearly marked bins to separate paper/cardboard and glass/plastic/metal. There are details instructions on the top of our bins, which I have read carefully many time, and, given that I am the person I am, I follow them strictly. I painstakingly (mostly just painful for Mr. Love-it-or-leav-it) enforce a strict policy of separate recycling, even going so far as to reach in the bin to extract a stray orange juice container or egg carton that has fallen haphazardly into the glass/metal/plastic bin.

And so you understand my GREAT frustration and confusion at seeing all of these bins being dumped into one giant truck. How did I feel? Betrayed, bewildered.....Why would my city play such a dastardly trick on myself and my neighbors? Were they just doing it for sport? Just doing it to see how far we would to follow some arbitrary rules about cardboard recycling format? Recycling is LEGALLY required in Cambridge. Why make it so much for difficult to comply?

Can anyone out there explain this trash tragedy?????


FYI: Here are the instructions:

The New Mr. Somebody

I've met someone.

I'd grown up with him, actually. I have great memories of him and me in elementary school, having fun, being creative, getting bored together during summer break. Those were the good old days. And recently I learned that he was back in town.

And now we're together.

I see him several days a week. It's strange, because sometimes we're not even sure what to do together it's been so long since we've seen each other. Sometimes we just email together or watch LOST reruns all day or take naps. It still feels illicit, what we're doing, like it should be a secret. Don't worry, I've told Mr. Love-it-or-leav-it all about it, and he doesn't mind. He says it's perfectly normal for people to have a relationship like this. But I'm not sure. It goes against everything I've learned so far.

The new someone's name? Oh, it's Mr. Free Time.

I had completely forgotten about Mr. Free Time. Because for so long I've been spending all my time with my friends: Ms. Full-time-job, Ms. Remodeling-the-house, Ms. Graduate-school, and Ms. Being-overly-involved-in-everything. But they're all gone now. So it's just me and Mr. Free Time. I keep telling myself I shouldn't be with him. That I should call Ms. Being-overly-involved-in-everything and see if we can't make up. But then I wonder, is this really that bad? Do I really have to feel so guilty about ever minute I spend with Mr. Free Time?

I hope that in time we can develop a healthy and open relationship. Maybe we can actually go out on the town together, you know, try some new local coffee shops. And maybe I'll learn to tell people "It's my day off. I didn't do anything today, other than have some free time."

Ministry Rules

Please do not, under any circumstances, steal the following idea that I am thinking about making into a book: Ministry is a flippin' awesome career.

To read much of what contemporary Christian media has to say about the work of ministry might be to think it a grueling, unattractive, and almost impossible task. As I made my way through three years of seminary, much of the input I received offered me a dismal portrait of my future potential. “It's so taxing, you just can't understand,” ministers in the field told me. “People have no boundaries. You'll work yourself to death. Your studies will be meaningless and cannot possibly prepare you,” they have threatened.

But I beg to differ. After one official month on the job as a pastor, I can tell you that, so far, it is awesome. And here are some reasons why:

-I spend most of my days eating lunch and drinking iced tea and talking to folks about the best and worst times of their lives. I get to witness people's struggles, without losing myself in them.

-Except for Sundays and session meetings, I can go to work and come home pretty much anytime I want.

-I get to read the bible and think about it on a weekly basis. Reading fascinating stuff is actually part of my job.

-I get to choose what to do with my time, what projects will draw my attention.

-I get to help people figure out how to develop and use their god-given gifts in service to others.

As far as I'm concerned, at this point, I got the good end of the vocational deal. I'm not sure what those other ministers were talking about, but thank God I didn't listen.

Dog Day Afternoon

A question for cyberspace: Does my dog actually want to go for a walk?

I've been thinking about this more recently since the heat and humidity have allowed fewer romps for my pooch. Now, the love-it-or-leav-it-canine isn't a very active dog. Don't get me wrong, she loves to romp and play when she has the opportunity (chasing cats and squirrels is like the kingdom of dog for her). But, unlike other breeds such as dalmations and some forms of terrier, she doesn't really seem to mind not walking. For instance, were I to sit right here in this chair and blog my heart out for the next 7 hours, she would probably not move at all. She would just lay there completely content, punctuated only by the occasional yawn or dream-bark. She does not behave differently whether we walk her on not, doesn't become overly anxious or active either way. (Although she has become more bold since her breif brush with cancer earlier this year. Apparently for her, living strong means eating meat out of the garbage can and a brownie off the coffee table at our friend's house. But that's a story for another time.) All this does not mean that I'm not overcome with guilt whenever I don't walk her. I am. I am constantly projecting my feelings of inadequacy on myself as a dog owner.

But I've begun to think of it differently lately.

You see, I go to the gym every morning at 7:30 a.m. I go because if I didn't the bi-weekly trips to the Indian take-out place down from our house would force me into the red-zone of body mass index on those charts at the doc's office. But, to be honest, I would much prefer to NOT have to go. (In fact, I regularly get sucked into those infomercials about the magic pill that will help you lose weight without changing your diet or lifestyle. If only it were true...) Thing is my pooch is not fat. And she isn't obsessed with Indian take-out. So maybe making her walk is just torturing her otherwise wonderfully leisureful life.

That said, I think I'm going to start researching doggy mind-game activities instead of taking her out. Canine sudoku, now there's a money maker. Maybe I could call the folks at the lettuce knife factory and see if they'd like a market share......

Absolutely the Best Cookies Ever

I'd like to give a gift to you, my faithful readers. A link to the recipe for the absolute best chocolate chip cookies. Ever. In the universe.

I first tried these cookies at an underground event at an undisclosed location, and, though it is against my better judgment to share with you a recipe that actually makes me popular, I'm going to do it. Because, well, these cookies changed my life.

So check it out and enjoy:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/09/dining/091crex.html

Antibacterial, Lettuce Knives for Men

I just want to chime in to the blog-o-sphere and ask who the hell is out there developing new product lines that are completely ridiculous to try to make a buck.

I just saw an add for anti-bacterial glass wipes. The ad emphasized that the wipes shine glass AND kill bacteria. Now, I'm not sure about you, but I don't spend much time licking my bathroom mirror, my windows or my framed photos, so I'm wondering why in God's name would I need to kill the bacteria on any of these surfaces? Aside from the fact that all this anti-bacterial madness is creating a generation of antibody-less, immuno-suppressed kids, what, pray tell, is wrong with good old windex and a paper towel? Or better yet (a trick I learned from my mom) ammonia and a newspaper page?

All this after my last trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond during which I discovered a "lettuce knife." It's a knife meant to cut lettuce in a special way that will keep it fresh. Well, I've got a news flash for the manufactures of said lettuce knife: IT'S FRIGGIN LETTUCE. JUST USE A REGULAR DAMN KNIFE. AND THEN REFIGERATE IT. THAT'S HOW YOU KEEP IT FROM GOING BAD. I hate to break it to the manufacturers of the lettuce knife, but it isn't the cutting that makes lettuce go bad: it's ripping it out of the ground. That's where the problem starts.

And Pepsi just released a diet-coke for men! Don't get me started.

Now, my beloved and I have different perspectives on innovation. I am generally against it (hence my boycotting of facebook, iphones and blueray). But my better half is generally for it: hence his recent purchase of a pasta maker, a salad spinner and a touch screen phone which I cannot, to save my life, figure out how to use.

So I've made a unilateral decision that we as a nation need to put a moratorium on certain areas of innovation, American dream of constant production, consumption and upward mobility be damned. I'd say we can keep innovating in the following areas: medicine, saving the environment, and helping people not starve to death. But I demand that we stop innovating in these areas: cleaning products (who really needs more than bleach, ammonia, soap and baking soda anyway?), kitchen gadgets (my friend's mom, originally from Hong Kong uses a cleaver for all kitchen jobs including peeling small items, killing lobster, and chopping herbs), plastic storage bins (I had to end my subscription to Real Simple magazine because I was overwhelmed by my lack of space for all the plastic storage bins it kept telling me to buy), and office supplies (what's wrong with regular, old, silver paper clips?...actually I did see some rather hilarious paperclips the other day with swearwords on them. But seriously.....).

Once we stop innovating in such stupid areas, we can focus our energies into more important things such as playing badmiton and developing the ultimate low fat ice-cream.