I started by buying Eating Animals, by Jonathan Safran Foer.  I’ve wanted to read this book for quite some time, but the impetus to read nonfiction wasn’t as strong as it is now.  Eating Animals is about Foer’s personal decision to stop eating animals, and critics often say that he is not pointedly advocating against eating meat, and instead giving an overview of the system that provides our meat along with society’s various conceptions of what eating animals means.  I personally don’t think Foer presents as objective a view as the reviewers say (of course, these are the reviews printed on the book’s cover).  Safran Foer argues that in order to be an environmentalist, one cannot eat meat.  If you eat meat, then by definition you can’t call yourself an environmentalist.  That seems like a rather extreme view in my opinion.  Is a vegetarian who leaves the lights on twenty-four hours a day and drives a hummer still an environmentalist?

Maybe that’s not what he means, but that’s how it could be taken.  As for me, after two weeks of not eating meat, I have concluded that the hardest part is not being able to enjoy eating at restaurants.  I can make delicious vegetarian meals at home, but when it comes to going out to a nice place, I feel like the dietary constraints are an obstacle to the basic enjoyment of dining out.  I can’t look at the menu and order what I feel like, but instead I have to hunt around for something I can eat.  The other day I went to lunch at a restaurant billing itself as an “American Grill” and the only item I could order was a spinach salad without bacon (amounting to a bunch of spinach leaves for nine dollars), and some biscuits.  I was hungry again an hour later.  And I felt sad because the crab melt looked and smelled damn delicious.

And now I’m sick.  I have always prided myself on my robust immune system, but this time around I felt weak and tired.  The result of vegetarianism?  It’s hard not to blame it.   Perhaps I am wasting away, becoming a body full of plants but lacking vigor!  There is no rational basis for this conclusion, but there it is anyway.

I can say that my ethical self is feeling pretty good.  Now when I look at packaged meat I am conscious of what it was before, instead of ignoring the fact that it has been cleaned up beyond recognition in order to make the public think of it the same way they think of a neat package of cookies.

My old acquaintance, my new best friend.

Of course, it probably helps that I not only have a rather anal personality, but I also become easily obsessed with certain things. It’s a cycle of phases. Right now I believe I’m in an Anthony Bourdain/ David Chang & co. (AKA badass chefs), crossword puzzle doing, House watching phase. I can’t get enough of any of these things at the moment. I’m also obsessed with lists themselves (add that one to the list! Mwahaha). With the help of the “stickies” application on my MAC, I now make a list most mornings for what I must complete during the day. And my mind becomes preoccupied with checking each consecutive item off.

Imagine my delight when a couple of months ago my good friend Iris sent me the list to end all lists: 7 x 7 Magazine’s annual list of 100 things to eat in San Francisco before you die. It is also known as Big Eat SF 2010. I know it simply as The List. Ever since school has been over, all I can think about is checking off more items on The List. Every time any one mentions a trip to San Francisco, I start pinpointing possible pit stops that would allow me to cross certain food items off The List. The List has even gotten my competitive juices flowing. I installed a Facebook application that announces when one has eaten something on The List to all one’s friends and tracks the percentage completed. Darn you Iris and your 7% completion! I may be at 4% now, but just you wait. Finally, before I go to bed at night, I often give The List an once-over. Quiz me, I can tell you anything on there.

So far, I’ve only had grapes and meatballs from Aziza, rotisserie chicken from Limon Rotisserie, chasu ramen from Katana-ya and the chocolate spiced donut + Four Barrel coffee from Dynamo Donuts. There is a trip to the Ferry Building in my distant future, however, and I think I know what I’ll be doing there. I’ve counted and there are around six things to eat in and near the Ferry Building. Perhaps this will be followed by a power walk (burn off those calories to make room for more!) all the way to the mission district in order to check off salted caramel ice cream from Bi-Rite.

Is this obsession sad? Maybe. Is it fun? Definitely. Am I glad my obsessive and easily addictive self has never tried hard drugs? Um, yes.

Chocolate Spiced Donut (back) and Chocolate Dipped Orange Saffron Donut (front)

]]> http://trifectablog.wordpress.com/2010/06/24/the-list/feed/ 2 yamiam DSCN2306 http://trifectablog.wordpress.com/2009/12/23/dont-say-that-please/ http://trifectablog.wordpress.com/2009/12/23/dont-say-that-please/#comments Wed, 23 Dec 2009 23:40:04 +0000 Ashley Lin http://trifectablog.wordpress.com/?p=192 Continue reading →]]> There is one word in the English language that really irks me. I know I’m not alone in my hatred of this word because I heard on NPR’s “Wait, wait don’t tell me” that this word is consistently deemed the most hated word in America. I’m talking about the word “moist.” According to Peter Sagal, it is the pronunciation of the two vowels, “oi” that makes people cringe in disgust.  I agree wholeheartedly that when one makes the sound “oi”, sandwiched between the beginning letter “m” and the ending letters “st” that one speaks the most shudder-inducing word. This word evokes for me a feeling of creepy clamminess. When I hear the word “moist” I see small sweat drops clinging to extremely pale skin. Ugh. I can feel myself making a face even as I write this.

So why is it then that everyone continues to use this word to describe food? There hasn’t been an occasion when someone has baked a cake or some sort of quick bread that someone hasn’t uttered the word “moist”. And then usually someone says, “Hey, doesn’t Ashley hate that word?” And then I usually say, “yes, that is the word that I detest”, which is followed by more people using the word and laughing at my face.

A friend told me the other day that I should just get over it, because there is no better word that describes the crumb of a really good cake. But I beg to differ. I love cake, and talk about it frequently without using the word-that-must-not–be-named. Cake is my favorite dessert and when I don’t have some sort of dessert that resembles cake around, I feel lost and sad. I don’t necessarily mean those elaborate birthday cakes that are available at bakeries, or the really sweet Costco kind that is more frosting (another thing that I hate- frosting) than anything else. No, usually I am referring more to the texture of say, something simple like banana bread, persimmon bread, pound cake, or sponge cake.

What’s wrong with the word “cakey”? That’s the word that I always use when I’m describing the texture that I crave. Or how about “spongey” or “soft”? I use all of these words and I don’t feel like anything is missing in its description. I propose that we all replace the word “moist” with the infinitely better sounding “cakey.” That’s the word I used today when I announced that I was going to make French yogurt cake. Yes, that’s right. I craved that “cakey” texture. And this recipe, from my host mom in France, definitely fits the bill. It’s the perfect simple teacake. The crumb is dotted with holes, and it bounces back when you poke at it. It has an eggy, vanilla flavor and is light while being slightly chewy. Make it, and then when you are thinking about what to say about it, remember that “moist” is probably the worst option.

Gâteau au Yaourt de Nathalie

- Usually you use one container of plain yogurt for the recipe, and then you just use the same container to measure all the rest of the ingredients. The recipe that follows is in number of “pots”, which is the number of times you fill up the container. A ½ cup measure works just as well.

Ingredients:

1 pot plain yogurt

½ pot oil, crème, or melted butter

1 ½ pot of sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

3 pots of flour

4 eggs

2 tsp baking powder

Mix all of the dry ingredients in a separate bowl. Whisk together the wet ingredients in a large bowl, and add the dry mixture to the wet mixture. Mix together until there are no lumps, but don’t over-mix. You can also add chocolate, fruit, nuts, etc. to the mixture. Bake at 356 degrees for 35-45 minutes.

I love simple things.

But then, I look on the bright side. Now that I’m 21 there is a whole world available to me that was not before. Two years ago, when I worked for a summer in Oakland, my co-workers and I tried to go to a bar on the last day of work. I wasn’t able to order anything, but we figured that it wouldn’t be a problem for me to just sit there and not drink anything. We were wrong, and long story short, the afternoon ended with us sitting around on the grass in the park near the office, against a backdrop of honking horns and wailing ambulances.

This past Friday, I finally had the chance to redeem myself from that experience. Ever since my birthday I have wanted to go back to the bar that everyone talked about during my summer working in Oakland. So when some friends and I wanted to celebrate the end of finals, it seemed like the logical choice. The name of the bar is the Trappist and it is known for Belgian and specialty beers. It is named after Catholic monks from Belgium who brew beer to sell to the public. At the Trappist there are 25 ales on tap that rotate, and it being the month of December there were plenty of Christmas choices. I had a beer called, “Santa’s Little Helper.” It was dark and delicious, with hints of chocolate (according to the description). It was strong too, coming in at 10.5% alcohol. I wish I had known that, considering my history as the lightest lightweight in the history of people who don’t tolerate alcohol well.

Anyway, it’s a good place to go for a more upscale bar experience. The drinks come in at anywhere from 5-8 dollars, which is a little pricier than your average college bar. The bar also received excellent reviews on yelp. I just read a review that mentions one beer called “The Beast”, with 16.5% alcohol. Hmm, that one may be the next logical step in exercising my legal rights.

Oh right, the point was to post some pictures. Here are some of Sushi Sho. I miss you Sushi Sho! Now those 40 dollars I would feel bad about spending at this restaurant go towards buying clothes online (when I should be studying). Hahaha.

They are very tasty now

My pee is pink too.

How did I get over my “ pricey food angst”? It was easy. My friend appealed to the side of me that is easily seduced by the “live life while you can” argument. So, I did. And I don’t regret it. It was another amazing meal. Some people spend their money on cars, some on expensive purses. Hey, I have to spend my money on something, right? It might as well be uni.

nonetheless, this weekend I bit the bullet and went down there for rum drinks and the famed sandwich, which costs 14 dollars (plus a $9 drink and a big tip for the extremely great bartender), is actually pretty big (although not by Philly standards), and comes with paper-thin, totally ungreasy fried plantain chips, salsa, and some greens with a bright, citrus-y sort of vinaigrette. as I devoured it ecstatically, reveling in the perfect balance of pressed cuban bread, superbly roasted pork, swiss cheese, ham, pickle, and mustard (with the roast pork as the strongest element – as it should be – most inferior cuban sandwiches are too sharp, dominated by the salty taste of too much ham or the mustardy taste of, well, the mustard), I thought to myself, “in the whole wide world of discretionary food spending, what could possibly be a better use of a couple hours’ wages than purchasing the right to eat this sandwich?” And I could think of nothing.

—-

Meditation of the day: is a hot dog a sandwich? Discuss

Today I went to the best sushi restaurant I have ever been to and probably will ever go to (unless I make a trip to Japan). The sushi is some of the freshest that can be found in California, and it is where I had my first taste of the magnificent Uni (sea urchin). Mmm… the scallop, amaebi (sweet shrimp), tobiko (fish roe) with quail egg, and tamago (rolled egg) were simply amazing.

The sushi here is so good that it has attracted quite a cult following in the Bay Area. But as any sushi connoisseur knows, to get good sushi one must be prepared to pay the price. It is very difficult to have a meal here under 40 dollars, putting quite a dent in your average student food budget. I mean, if you want to have the real experience, that is. If you just want to get a roll and leave hungry then it probably isn’t worth making the trip.

At Sushi Sho, once you enter the restaurant, you feel like you have been accepted to some special club. There are only eight seats at the sushi bar, and once those are filled, that’s it for the first 6 o’clock seating. Other diners will then have to wait for the later seating at 8.

At the bar, the regulars know each other. They talk to the sushi chef, Aki-san, familiarly, asking about his son, future business plans, etc. They also talk to each other about what kind of fish is fresh today, what “off-the menu” items to order, and other insider topics. Throughout the night people who don’t know about how the restaurant works come in the door from time to time, only to be turned away with “we only serve sushi here”, or “ you need to wait 25-35 minutes”. The regulars snicker and murmur that these people should read the sign at the door, laying these policies out in writing.

Being a regular here means spending more than 40 dollars for a meal at least once a week. Some go two or three days in a row. It is plainly evident that being a regular at Sushi Sho gives one a certain feeling of prestige, one of those who are “in-the-know”. A meal here is always a good experience, and it makes me want to be a regular too. But at the same time I think about how 40 dollars spent on groceries could feed me well for a week and a half. And how a great, albeit simple, meal with friends at a good burger place costs at most 10 dollars. It’s a sort of tug of war for me. Some weeks I’m all about frugality and adhere to the “simple life” philosophy. Other weeks I’m a hedonist and throw caution to the wind, ready to lay down 50 dollars or more for a nice meal. I suppose I can never be a regular at any place with these tendencies, but at least in the end my expenditures sort of even out.