Before I begin I want to say that these photos of snow look extra cozy with the built-in WordPress snow I activated. It is GREAT. Is anyone there? I have been aching to write today and so far I’ve just had a string of (very deep) thoughts floating in front of me. Let me see if I can string them together. This trick usually helps me find some mysterious link to what goes on in my brain two years from now. Here’s to thinking ahead….
Uncategorized
What we’re about to be.
I am sure what the story arc of a blog looks like but I do know that I’ve been feeling like I’ve outgrown my shoes on the Internet. For the longest time, I thought I could get away with all of the slick free themes on WordPress and then for the longest time after that I would spend occasional moments looking at menus(!) on other websites and wishing I could have my own so I could keep my silly doodles separate from the rest of what I do. This time last week, I did something about it and the week since, I’ve spent what feels like both of those earlier “longest times” put together with a thought bubble over my doolingass head that says “wtf was I thinking”. Clearly, not so much. I’ve been googling Adam J Kurtz motivationals on Design*Sponge and harassing my friend Jeanne (who has been so gracious with her expertise. No birthday twin comes closer) so I think I’ll be okay….
Everett farmer’s market
If you’ve been wondering where I’ve been this whole time the answer is right here, silly. I’ve been working with the Everett Farmer’s Market every Sunday taking photos of all the lovely food and people and making so many friends. Hi all of you friends! They are SO nice! Last Sunday I bought 3 huge stalks of rhubarb for syrup and my first kohlrabi (because it was purple..it’s like a turnip) for just $3. I feel very lucky.
Everett, which is not Seattle (thank goodness!), is a smaller city about 30 minutes away. It’s the home of Boeing (and me) and other cool things you won’t find in Seattle. For example, we can see mountains from many more places. I like that because I like to pretend I’m running towards them (I know you’re very far away, mountains. Please make snow!). Our farmer’s market is the best I’ve seen in Washington after the one in Wenatchee. It’s huge, it faces the Pacific Ocean and sometimes you can even see seals. I eagerly await that day.
While I’m sitting on a post I wrote about crispy potato salad, I wanted you to see this photos I took so far. I also write little tales about my friends and the food they make or sell, which you can see on the market’s amazing blog. My bio is a silly goose but I like that glamour shot my sister Jane took.
If you’re ever in Everett or Snohomish or maybe even at the mall in Lynnwood (why oh why) on a Sunday, go here and maybe you’ll see a seal or even Canadian tourists that eat all the fruit before they go back home across the border. They are my kind of people because I eat all the fruit too.
Happy eyeballing!
Interview with mama, part 2 + Simple sautéed pea shoots
There was no way I was going to let my mother not be part of the second annual Mother’s Day interview extravaganza. She is the only mother I have and getting to know her as a woman is one of my favourite things now that I’m all grown up. A lot of what I do creatively is directly inspired by her. My memories are tied to her. She is the reason my sisters and I have our quiet confidence and strength. There are days where I sit and think about how I want this blog grow so I can maybe be known (it’s silly, I know). Then I remember that the most important people in my world are already here with me. They always have been – reading along, cheering with me and telling me that I indeed matter to them. “Read only by mama” is not a bad deal. In fact, it’s the best deal in the world.
I am here writing this as a very thankful daughter. I am blessed to have my mother. However, I know she doesn’t have hers physically present and it is a huge hurt – one that doesn’t go away without many, many what ifs. For those of you whose burdens are magnified on days of such publicised joy: I know, it’s hard. But all we have is today. We start there.
Happy Mother’s Day, mama. You already know all the answers.
(You can read the first interview here!)
1) Did you drop any of your kids on their heads? Asking because your other daughters are a liiiitle….
Actually, I had two falls while I was pregnant with you. Either you were one hard nut to crack or I was a tough mama, but you took your time to come into this world and with no damage at all. Jane and Gayle are alright!
2) Were you working/employed when you had Jane – your first? Did you get maternity leave?
Yes, I was employed at Bank of India and I had three months maternity leave.
3) Tell us all about your first job.
My first job was at Panjim at an office by the creek. It was Cosme Matias Menezes. I was there for just a month or so and I must admit, I did not like it. It was a large hall with all these desks that people sat at and the bosses had their cabins at the back of the hall. My starting pay was Rs 450 or 500. It was recommended by a friend of mine. I guess I just took it as I did not have any experience. The fun part was that during the lunch break, I used to walk for around five minutes and go and meet my friend, Patricia, who worked nearby. All I remember is my walk over the Patto bridge to get to work. Then I was assigned the job of dispatch clerk. Boring!
4) Did having children at home ever make you not want to work or did you enjoy your job? Foremost: Did you ever have a choice to not work?
In the early days, having children meant saving for their futures as also feeding, clothing, educating them. We did not have much by way of savings. Besides, the job I had at the bank was a steady one. Initially, it did not pay me as much and one advantage was that I was close to home and the timings were nice. I did not think of not working then because I could be home when you were up from your afternoon snoozes and spend the rest of the evening doing things with you three. I don’t have regrets about taking up this job because it gave me a chance to work with some really nice people and meet some nice (and not so nice) people. Besides, when your dad returned from his job at Saudi Arabia, he did not have a steady job and it was hard for us to save much. So I stuck on.
5) Enough of the serious questions: Why did you not let us watch Hindi movies when we were younger?
I thought they were silly and too long. I don’t know.
6) Did you do anything your mother (grandma) did while raising your own kids that made you think: Gosh I’ve become my mother!
I can’t think of anything. Can you? (Editor’s note: Not really. But from you I think I got this habit of being unable to see dirty dishes in the sink. Hence I am constantly washing 1 spoon every 4 hours.)
7) Do you think there’s a point in your life where you say: “I’m done with parenting. I’m going to stop worrying and let them drive without a helmet and a broken headlight!” (This is a hyperbole, of course)
Worrying? That’s one thing I will never stop doing. But I know that God has given you all some wisdom to think through your choices before you make them. Once in a while we all like to stray but I always pray for each of you.
8) If you didn’t have children, what would you have done with your life?
I shudder to think how miserable I would be – and how miserable I would make your father. That thought has never crossed my mind. Now I have 3 special girls to be proud of. I have had the best years of my life watching you grow into pretty and talented ladies. You have given me a chance to be a mother.
9) You never told us not to drink/smoke/get high when we were growing up and we didn’t either. Does that surprise you? Would you pass out if I said I tried it all once? You can admit you’ve done it too of you want….
Doesn’t surprise me, just makes me proud. No I will not pass out, but glad it was just that one time.
10) Do you remember that time I failed in Maths (twice). Maybe three times. Or 4..I wasn’t counting. How did you know I wasn’t trying my best?
I knew you would not be good at Science subjects – Maths included, but you insisted, so we let you. I think you did try, but I am glad you realised that it was not your fore and changed streams.
Okay too much information.
11) Does it ever stop being strange to tell people “these are my children”? (I would die. I still do when I have to say “husband”)
I am on the other side of 50 so it is alright.
12) What is your dream job?
Definitely didn’t plan to work at a bank. I thought of working at some other job where I could travel.
13) What’s your favourite breakfast food?
Eggs mostly, but it is mostly on a Sunday
14) What’s the best food that your mummy made?
She made lots of yummy food – chappatis (she made triangular ones), loved the doce bhaji (with broken wheat) she made once. Also, she once made me ice cream (I can still taste it). Everything she made was tasty. Can’t just pick out one particular dish.
15) How was I from the ages of:
1-3 – cute and chubby
3-6 – little insecure and still chubby
6-9 – not so chubby
16) Tell all our lovely readers what a pain in the *you know what* I was while I was being born and stuff.
Funny, but I don’t remember the pain. I just know that it was the middle of summer and oh so hot. There was no electricity so they started a generator, which was so noisy, so nobody knew when you were born. Anyway, you were being held by a nurse at the back of the labour room with a cloth over “you know what”, and they would not tell me whether you were a girl or boy, thinking I would be disappointed with a second girl. So funny!
17) How exhausting was it to raise three children all under the age of seven? Did you ever feel rewarded (even though I know that’s not the point…)
I had help from Nanu, my dad (Babdi) and mum (Grandma) and then Romaldin. Without them, it would have been tough.
18) Jane, Gayle and I think you did a phenomenal job as our mother. How do you think you did?
Sometimes, I think I could have done better, by listening more and being more patient.
19) Do you still not care about Mother’s Day?
It reminds me of my mother. And that makes me sad.
20) Last question: Will you please live forever? Okay thanks.
If you never grew up, maybe I could live forever. No one has achieved that, so no chance.
Simple sautéed pea shoot
This is clearly not the most original way to cook greens but it is the best. This was my first time eating pea shoots so I asked the vendor I bought it from how she cooked. Sautéeing came up and I went with that. Raw pea shoots taste exactly like peas! Weird, huh? The final dish ended up with a flavour that reminded me a lot of bhutta (Indian street-style corn on the cob) and I loved it. This dish would go well as a side with eggs or some heartier protein. Feel free to change up the oil, seasoning, or even the greens!Ingredients
- 2 tbsp vegetable oil
- 1 1/2 tsp black mustard seeds
- 4 large garlic cloves, minced
- A bunch of pea shoots (loosely about 3 cups worth), tough bottom stems removed
- Juice of 1/4 of a lemon (you can use more if you want more tang to it)
- 1/4 tsp chilli powder
- Salt + pepper to taste
Heat a pan over medium-high heat and add the vegetable oil to the hot pan. Wait 30 seconds and then add the mustard seeds to the pan. Once the seeds start to pop add the garlic to it. Sauté the garlic for 15 seconds until it only slightly browns. Be careful to not let it burn. Add the pea shoots to the pan and sauté for about a minute or two, until the shoots wilt and turn a brighter green and a little brown in parts. Squeeze lemon juice over the greens while they’re still in the pan and sprinkle some chilli powder on top. Take the pan off the stove and season with salt and pepper. Serve warm. Enjoy!
YEAH YEAH YEAH.
I’ve been trying to think of a perfect introduction for what I’m about to write. I thought about it all morning in between cleaning the bathroom (I’m so glad we just have one) and singing “This. Girl. is on FAI-YUHHH” (this girl is on fiii-err-errr-err). I head that song a lot of times last week and that’s it. It’s stuck in my brain. Anytime I feel like I need a nudge, I turn it back on. And it plays and I can do it all.
That’s the introduction then. Without me having to try too hard, I got it. Should I sing the song again?
The whole of last week I chose to volunteer my time as one of the documentation crew at the Rain City Rock Camp for Girls (RCRC). It’s a whole week’s worth of dance parties, intensive musical teaching and learning (considering their ages, of course), sisterhood and so many girls who rock that it makes your heart explode. At the beginning of the week, I knew I was not the best photographer to do all of this justice. I couldn’t help but think how much bigger this was that me. These girls were about to shed their inhibitions, break out of their shells and all those other metaphors that mean they were going to be awesome.
I know I’m not very technical when it comes to photography. I struggle a lot to get what I see through the lens on film. It’s very difficult for my mind to process things with numbers in them. I’ve asked for help, but whenever people start talking ISO, f-stop stuff my brain turns off. “Too many numbers,” it says, “I’m going to sleep.” Okay brain. Don’t let me stop you. I made (and still use) visual cues to understand the (somewhat) important things instead. It gets me by. I remember I had a photography class in my second year of college. It was one of the classes I was most looking forward to. I didn’t know why but it seemed easier than studying and barely passing economics, which they made us all take in year 1. BLEAHH, because remember the number thing I just spoke about? The photography teacher David DeSouza spent probably 1 class in the whole semester explaining ISO and appertureshutter (as he called it, to help us understand). I remember some of my friends complaining about that. Even though I sort of agreed with them, sitting right here right now, I’m entirely grateful. He introduced us to some of the greatest photographers, the most beautifully made photographs and even helped our class (along with two other colleges he taught at) to put together our first photography exhibition. He also appreciated my photo assignment (cat photos, of course) in front of my peers. I didn’t make it to that class, but I felt special all the same. He made me love photography.
Many years later, I still don’t completely fit in with the people that geek out on photography. Long hair, don’t care, I joined a photography club in Seattle and I go to the meetings with them anyway. I have no idea what they talk about most of the time but just hanging around their brains makes me feel like a creative genius. It also introduced my to my friend Lisa Y. Mendez, a supremely talented girrrrl artist/zine queen, who moved to San Diego last year. No longer in Seattle (boo!), she introduced me to RCRC. She sent me a “request” on behalf of the camp asking if I would volunteer as much time as I could for them. Er, YES. I said YES a million times in my mind even though I replied to her saying something like “I’m an okay photographer….are you crazy?”
I did it last week and even though I hid behind the camera most of the time, it was the most rewarding experience I’ve had in a while. I got to watch the girls turn into rockstars in five short days, watch (some of) their band coaches and counsellors go from exasperated to excited to proud. I also got to see transformations happen right before my eyes. I think I transformed too. It’s hard not to when people all around are telling you that you rock. That was the safest space I’ve ever been in since I moved here. My self-esteem went bungee jumping, sky diving and did headstands all around town just by watching it happen.
All those women and girls ROCK. I got to work with the best videographer/woman Mandy, the best photographers/ women Marj and Sieglinde. I got to see the most amazing girl guitarists, drummer, vocalists and percussionists in the world. I worked the life out of me to get visual representation of the magic that was happening that week. My photographs were awesome.
AGAIN.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZw2CB_Ir_w&w=560&h=315]
“The person I am in the company of my sisters has been entirely different from the person I am in the company of other people. Fearless, powerful, surprising, moved as I otherwise am only when I write.”
Franz Kafka, Diaries of Franz Kafka
This is insanity.
Summer has been incredibly kind to the soil here; encouraging some of the most amazing produce I’ve seen with my own eyes. I can brag 18,000 times over about the markets in Goa. Try me. This is different. There is something very special about food that belongs. Straight from the source and right to your heart. In hippie speak, it’s very groovy. I haven’t been able to share as much of it here in this blog but you can be sure that the food is being well taken care of. There is no other way.
(I will be away from my second favourite home this week and I already miss this place. Can you see me?! I’m a crying fool. Not really but just a little bit on the inside. I’ll be back with a tale or two.)
Sweet potato and sugar snap pea salad + Be 4.
I’m sitting at the table. It’s the kind of table that folds back to a flat piece of nothing. Unless you were hoping to have a floor-style community meal, it’s the kind of table that fades into the background or shows up for the times we want to eat on the balcony like it’s a picnic. Right now, it’s standing on its own. It’s covered in paintings, paints, a glass full of this murky brown water – that earns its colours after constant brush dipping – and of course, there’s a paintbrush. And almonds.
My 4-year-old neighbour came to visit today. I brought her with me to hand her our copy of “Lincoln”. She was supposed to take it back to her parents’ but she changed her mind. “I want to come to your house. I love the puppies!”
“I love to paint.” “I love my brother.” “My little sister’s name is Karthika. I love her.” “I think this puppy loves me.”
If I start this-right-here sentence with “Kids….”, I’m probably going to distance myself from the one thing I still wish I could be. I don’t want to do that. I loved being a child. Just yesterday I made a mental note of all the games we made up as children. The no adults allowed kind of games. Our stuffed toys would talk and if they were on the floor after we awoke the next morning, we would assume they came to life while we were asleep. Then there was mud. Lots and lots of mud became food and leaves were the plate. Dry mud sprinkled on top of wet mud was chocolate pudding, rice, curry, fish, and then some. I can still feel this overwhelming joy that I felt back when I knew my sisters and I were going to play in this small shed at Analise’s house. There would be lots of mud and we could cook for hours, or until A. Pacy called us for lunch. *Groannnn*.
Back then, I never challenged my (what us adults call) creativity. I didn’t know any different. I made up things in my head and I had nothing to worry about because my world was real. Of course, one of us would always try to contest this reality, which would end with a loud “You’re cheating!” and maybe some tears and/or bite marks. “Magenta?! There’s no such colour!” Try telling that to the crocodile, Miss 8-year-old.
I wish it was still okay to bite people especially an imagination that constantly doubts itself. I’d bite a system that gives us ranks instead of measuring our passions. I’d bite the table because sometimes, that seems appropriate. I’d bite the walls that pop up any time I think I have a good idea but have no clue where to go from there. I’d also bite walls, because I like the taste of cement.
TMI.
Just like the 4-year-old with two ponytails, I also love. Puppies and paint and my sisters. I love this writing thing. I love how everything I draw always turns into a tree. I love leaf money and my Peanuts comics. I love to cook.
I have no desire for fame, or money (except sometimes….you know. Boring stuff). I just want this love thing. It seems like something important to a 4-year-old.
“For happiness is anyone and anything at all that’s loved by you”
You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.
To my people in India, I know we don’t get these sugar snap things there so a good substitute for them would be some crunchy green French beans, cut in half and cooked in boiling water just until crispy/tender. They won’t be sweet but yet, they still will…if you know what I mean. You are my favourites. This recipe was inspired by this post on bonappetit.com.
Ingredients
- 160 gm (1 3/4 cups) sugar snap peas
- 190 gm (2 cups) sweet potato, cut in 1/2 inch cubes
- 1/2 cup green onions, chopped/minced…you get my drift
- Pepper and/or salt
For the dressing
- 2 tbsp rice vinegar
- 2 tbsp lite soy sauce
- 2 tsp ginger, minced
- 2 tsp garlic, minced
- 1 tsp chili-garlic sauce like Sriracha
- 2 tsp peanut oil
- 1 tsp sesame seeds
- 1 tsp brown sugar
- 1/2 tbsp peanut butter
For garnish (optional)
- Roasted peanuts or almonds or sunflower seeds…something nutty and crunchy that you already have in the kitchen, basically.
This should be fairly easy if I don’t eat up half my instructions. Shake me if I do.
Boil the sweet potato cubes in water until tender. As soon as you take them off the stove, shock them with cold water to stop the cooking process. Or tell them they’re fat. String the sugar snap peas and then cut them into 3 parts or 1/2 inch pieces. Put into a large bowl where your final salad will go along with the cooked sweet potatoes and green onions.
Once the veggies are ready, it’s onto the dressing. Apart from the peanut oil and sesame seeds, mix/whisk together all the other ingredients in a small bowl. As for the peanut oil, put it on a pan along with the sesame seeds. When the oil gets hot enough, you’ll notice the sesame seeds turning a darker shade of brown and getting fragrant as well. Watch it closely so it doesn’t burn. As soon as this happens, take the pan off the stove and pour the hot oil/seed mix into the dressing bowl. Mix it with the rest of what’s in there and pour over the vegetable/spud/root i.e. peas, sweet potato, onions. Garnish with garnish. You have options above. I used roasted almonds. Season with pepper and salt (if it’s not already salty enough). If you want to make this dish even more fun, serve with your favourite Asian noodles.
Dinner is served. By somebody else. Not me.
Can’t live without made-up meals Thursday
Thought for your Thursday:
If it’s not my party, can I still cry if I want to?
Also, why was she crying at her party? WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO HER?
I want to know, okay?
Quinoa with pesto and balsamic-roasted asparagus
Did you see what I did there? I made up a fancy name for this run-of-the-mill food thing and now you get to eat it. Cool, right? I wish I could write a fancy inspired story about where this came from but I can’t. All I know is that sometimes, you just gotta eat what you have and when we flew back from southern town, this is all we had. Well, minus the asparagus. That’s a different layer of the made-up-ed-ness.
Now set your oven to 350 degrees F and close them eyes.
And breathe.
Ingredients
For the pesto
- 25 gms parsley leaves (this is about err…1 1/2 cup, I think)
- 10 gms/2 large clove garlic, chopped roughly or not at all (you can use a little more if you want. I am the one that goes overboard. This is me restraining myself.)
- 90 gms almonds (about 1 cup)
- 1/2 cup olive oil
- Salt and pepper to taste
For the roasted asparagus
- 20 asparagus spears (120 gms), with the tougher bottom 1/4 of it erased from the face of the earth. Sort of.
- 2 tsp balsamic vinegar
- 2 tsp olive oil
- 2 green onions
- Crack or two of fresh ground black pepper (what. a. snob)
For the quinoa
- 1 cup of the mixed bag of quinoa, rinsed and drained
To garnish
- Sesame seeds and lemon
Assuming your oven is at 350 degrees right now, which mine is definitely not, place the almonds on a baking sheet and pop them into the oven for about 5-7 minutes. This should get em roasted and fragrant and a lot more snack-worthy than usual. This may or may not be a good thing while recipe-testing. If you don’t want to roast them almonds, don’t. Un-roasted almonds work fine too. I tried. I survived.
Once the almonds have worked on their tan, roughly chop them up. Your eardrums will thank you. Toss all the pesto ingredients and half of the olive oil into a food processor. This kitchen appliance thing is not my favouritest of parts but I do it for the fans. The whole two of them. Kitchen fairies, I call them. Turn on the food processor and give it a long whirl. While the stuff is spinning, pour in the remaining olive oil in a thin stream. Little by little, the pesto will start coming together. You might need a leeeeetle more olive oil to help this. Just remember, we’re not perfect. There’s no need to pretend.
Meanwhile, in another part of the world, scoop the quinoa into 2 cups of water or stock (your choice) and bring to a simmer on medium heat. As soon as it get to simmering, cover it and let it cook for about 15 minutes with the heat turned down slightly. It’s done when all the water is soaked up. Kind of like rice.
While the quinoa is cooking, cut the asparagus into 1 1/2 inch pieces and spread them on a baking sheet lined with foil. Coat with balsamic vinegar, olive, oil and pepper and put it in the oven for 15 minutes. While the asparagus roasts, chop up the green onions finely. At the 10-minute roasting mark, pull out the asparagus tray and sprinkle the green onions on the top. Put it back in the oven for 5 more minutes and it’s done.
To assemble, mix the quinoa with pesto and top with asaparagus and sesame seeds. Squeeze lemon juice over and eat. Should serve 4. If it doesn’t, check your pockets.
Now ask me what’s for lunch.
I’m back to here.
Back to the same ol’ same. I figured by the time I hit “publish”, I’ll have officially moved out of this vacation mode I put myself in, which makes me not want to hit publish anymore.
Oh well*.
But wait! Guess what! We came back to maybe a tiny speckle of rain and lots and lots of summer, which makes it even harder to want to stare at a screen thinking of the perfect comeback words. Again*. Our trip back to southern Illinois was magnificent. I had forgotten what extra extra humid air felt like (apart from that one day last year) and heck, it was magnificent. Have I said this already?
I had a birthday, there were lots and lots of puppies (one that could run you over with his puppy brain), I ate a steak from the neighbour’s cow and made by the most interesting uncle-in-law (is that a thing), caught two fish and threw them back, got a Huck Finn foot tan (if Huck Fin did that sort of thing), got presented with presents (yeahhh buddy) and fell so hard for this new family of mine. All that and a pedicure.
After many months of it being just roommate-for-life and me, I missed being around other people. Happy people, living life with every fibre of their being, quoting lines from Gone with the Wind and laughing so so hard. I don’t know if you know this but it’s hard living in a place where nobody is familiar. I wish I could be over there anytime I felt like, assuming international travel is not an option.
But I’m here now and I’m back. I have a fun “can’t live without” recipe for Thursday and it only made the cut because it’s all I’ve been eating this past week. Ask me what’s for lunch? The green stuff. Dinner? Same. Breakfast? A fried egg on top of that. If anything is going to give me my wheels back, it’s secret (for now) recipe.
Hello again.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHp2Ngvm9IA&w=420&h=315]
*Like my father-in-law says “SUCK IT UP, BOY!”
Another place
I went to Bangalore on a Sunday.There was a concert to be watched that day and it was gewd. But if I must pick my favourite part, it would be all that zipping through traffic on a two-wheeler, eating the best of some local foods (one of which I named my cat after), seeing Saurabh, talking to Rakshit (who is just an almost silhouette in this picture) and almost missing my flight but not missing it.
It’s a great city with wonderful weather.
I’d like to go back.