Status Check November 17, 2009
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in General Musings.add a comment
Again, write as though no one is watching.
I find myself absolutely attracted to someone who, beyond any explicable means, intimidates me on multiple levels. I am so used to dating men that I can charm in a heartbeat with wit, humor and flattery. My “personality” is my barrier. Even in high school, I remember a boyfriend remarking that I was nonchalant. Positively unattainable in the distance I set. This quality has, until now, 100% worked in my favor. I am accustomed to deflecting attention onto a polished public persona, ensuring that no one gets too close. I am comfortable, safe even, being defined by my facade.
My public persona is my moat. My protection.
So what is happening now? I am supposed to be in my cyclical rebound mode, defined by frivolous flings with men that I enjoy, but do not covet. Yet I’m thrown by a single individual who surprises me, more than I surprise him. In a mere week, I find myself physically, chemically attracted to a man who isn’t my traditional fantasy. A man who, unintentionally, makes me think to the point of silence. And I’ve never been the quiet one. I’ve always been the one who speaks her mind, the devil to who’s listening. Ah, but the devil is thoughtful in silence.
He is smarter, wiley-er than me. I’ve dated lots of guys who are booksmart, cultured, respectful. Typical arm-candy for the intellectual. But I have never met a man who silences me with a single observation. FF was on a soapbox today, a sociological observation about female firefighters who do the job because they have something to prove, which challenged feminism to a point where I, a non-feminist, was offended. But his reasoning was entirely logical. If your house, your home, your abode were threatened, you would certainly want someone fighting for you, and not fighting to prove their own merit. Given the benefits offered to female firefighters — nine months of maternity paid in full, no questions asked; and reduced expectations if the woman is potentially pregnant — this social liberal/economical conservative is bent to question cost efficiency.
As though that weren’t enough, I am then led to ponder union benefits. I believe that unions are economically inefficient. They drive salaries and cost-per-unit of labor above their natural equilibriums. But metrics cannot put a value on the sacrifice of life. Every time a firefighter enters the flames, they are putting their own lives on the line. How can that be defined by traditional business metrics? My moat has been breached! Further, a case example on how Walmart is partnering up with firefighters to collect toys for underprivledged (not under-aged) children. Walmart is historically, vocally steadfast in their anti-union views, yet about 98% of firefighters are union aligned. And now Walmart is partnering up with a notoriously unionized profession? Tres hypocritical! How does society gain from a large business riding on social sympathies for marketing benefit? I traditionally side with greater good, but take offense when there is clear manipulation. Jeebus, have I become pro-union?
Finally, and this is within the same half hour of exchange, I learn of a prior relationship. The information is relayed to me with a tone of regret, a shade of wistful want, and now my emotional core is left confused.
It is truly bullshit. I have been unexpectedly thrown for a loop and am left speechless. I have met someone who makes me think, intellectually and emotionally. This state is maddeningly attractive, though it strikes me, unprepared, to the core. I think my silence may have been off-putting, I’ve never found silence an attractive quality, but fuck. I suppose it had to happen sometime. If it works, if it doesn’t work. I’ve learned more about what makes me tick.
To feel lost… December 7, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in General Musings.add a comment
Manan took his life this weekend. He hung himself in his apartment. Manish says he had so many things going for him, that he just didn’t see it. I knew he wasn’t settled, but I didn’t really understand just how deep the dissatisfaction went. I suppose he just wanted to quit everything.
But a part of it seems so like him. I think he chose that route because he wouldn’t leave behind any mess for someone else to clean up. Such a weird, yet practical thing to think of, and yet so “Manan-y.”
How will Mona explain this to the munchkin? That Uncle Manan will never play bed monster with them again?
What kind of scandal will erupt at his law firm, where he recently said he was going to “bust his ass” to make partner?
What will go through his mother’s mind, when they finally unseal his apartment, and they come face to face with his belongings?
Will Manish’s heart be strong enough, so that when he is able to grieve, he won’t fully break?
All these thoughts, all these questions, I can’t relate to. I do know I’ve been through a dark phase in my life, but I can’t imagine what it would feel like if my entire life were dark. My biggest regret is not being strong enough myself to at least provide a little light. He told me once, just once, that he liked chatting with me. That I helped ground him. I didn’t realize that all these little dramas he had, held so much significance for him. Girls from law school, life in California, moving away from home. I thought, as smart as he was, as attractive he was, there was no way he could be lonely. I wish we did go to Martini Park together so that I could be his wingchick. He said he was shy, I so completely doubted him.
Manan, I really hope you are at peace now, and that your final thoughts were those of pain-free relief.
Flavors that just go together… December 2, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Food, Taipei, Travel.add a comment
For the last two weeks, I traveled to mainland China partly to rediscover my roots, and mostly to eat. I consider myself quite lucky, as my favorite cuisine happens to be that of my heritage. While others might be repulsed by slender cuts of pig ear marinated in chili, soy sauce, sesame oil and hot peppers, I am swooning in delight. While Western tradition may discard chicken feet, the Chinese respectfully braise them in a lovely black bean sauce and serve them in small tasting dishes.
As my father says, I may be American through and through, I don’t speak Chinese…my hair is highlighted and perhaps I speak with a Californian accent, but take that all away, and I eat Chinese.
So I thought about writing about all the odd, far-out, non-Westernized, and positively succulent dishes that I experienced: preserved quail eggs, beef tendons, duck intestine…and then I realized, that’s not really the crux of my crossroads. What really struck me, was that although the main ingredient was foreign to my taste buds, the heart and spice of the dish were not.
The question begs, are we pre-disposed to recognizing certain flavor combinations? So that no matter what ingredient takes on that essence, becomes familiar? When I think of traditional Chinese cooking (and I won’t get into Hunan, Szechuan, Shanghainese or Taiwenese here, but rest assured they are as different as French is to Mexican cuisine), my mouth salivates with the spirit of umami. Soy sauce, sesame oil, chili paste, garlic, ginger and sometimes vinegar. If you have those ingredients in your pantry, then at anytime, you have a marinade, a salad dressing, a soup base or saute ingredients. No matter what you use as the main ingredient, these supporting ingredients will provide a flavor that clearly identifies the dish as Asian.
At one point during my trip, I did encounter a gag wall. We were in a shop in Taipei, where I filled my arms with “iron eggs,” a Taiwanese delicacy of marinated, baked, vacuum-sealed quail eggs. (A marketing nightmare, for sure.) In the glass cases up front, they proudly displayed carcass discards. Kidneys, intestines, tendons, hearts, and other un-recognizable organs. My father asked for a quarter-pound of duck tongue.
I follow the French-style of cooking. I believe that a dish should be appealing to the eye as well as to the palatte. A marinated, jerkied, shriveled duck tongue, is not pretty. In fact, it is most certainly disturbing, as well as a nice lesson in anatomy. Apparently, the tongue is attached to our bodies through the use of two muscular ligaments, both of which are left intact through the marination process.
But in my head, I rationalized. I adore foie gras, the engorged liver of force-fed geese. Who am I to pass judgement on free-range ducks?
I closed my eyes, grasped the ligaments, touched the tongue to my tongue, and with a certainly noticeable twitch, bit down and tasted.
It was, surprisingly, quite good if you could get over the artificial, mental hurdle of “tongue.”
At that very moment, I realized how discriminatory the Western palatte is. Why is a sou vide duck breast so delectable, yet the very tongue of the same bird considered repulsive? In my mind, that one bird gave its life over to our culinary enjoyment (yes, I once flirted with veganism, it didn’t last. I do like steak.) For that sacrifice, isn’t it just respectful even, to at least appreciate all that it has to give?
Please, I am interested. What are your thoughts?
Harvest those Herbs! November 9, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Food.add a comment
Had to pull the pots in this weekend. After a nice stretch of warm, sunny and 70, I have finally accepted that summer is most certainly over. Time to hunker down. I take inventory of my itty bitty garden, and decide which plants are sturdy enough to winter inside and which will be harvested.
That’s right, this urban gardener dons a pair of overalls, pulls out the kitchen shears and reaps the rewards of a well-tended container garden. Harvest in hand, I head inside to the kitchen to start the drying process.
There are several approaches to drying herbs. Spread out on window screens, hung upside down in paper bags, baked in the oven…but as I am an only child, I am prone to instant gratification. I subscribe to the nuke-and-crumble process. (Note, this process works best with about a cup or less of fresh herbs at a time.)
Super simple. Grab two sheets of paper towels. De-leaf or de-twig the herb into a single layer on one sheet. Cover with the second. Place the whole kit-n-kaboodle in the microwave and nuke on high for 1 to 2 minutes. Take a quick peek at the herbs, if they’re still a bit moist, continue the process in 30 second increments. The herbs are done when they become brittle and crumble easily.
For best results, store your bounty in airtight glass jars in a cool, dark place. This way, even in deepest, darkest winter, you’ll still be able to bring a taste of summer to the table.
Carolyn Tang is the editor of UrbanVivant.com, a labor of love that celebrates gourmet food, philosophy and urban living.
Taste Test: Mmmmilky goodness! October 26, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Food.Tags: blue marble, milk
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A drizzly, chilly, gray Saturday morning, perfect for an early jaunt to Green City! Pulled the Hunters on, shrugged into a hoodie and hit the road. Moments later, my face is wet, my smile beaming and I’m cradling a perfectly symmetrical acorn squash, a few deep purple eggplants and a fat bunch of carrots, greens attached. And yet, something is still missing.
Hello Blue Marble Family Farm and your plastic tubs of creamy, yummy goodness! Yogurt, cream, milk…sitting pretty in thick lipped glass bottles. As I licked my lips, a voice said, “Can I help you?”
“I’ll take a a quart of… (hesitation here, as I remember Sara’s rhapsody on the virtues of whole milk)…skim, please.”
The transaction complete, my flannel-shirted milkman tosses off his usual, “Enjoy!” To which I respond, whole-heartedly, “Oh, I will.” Yep, I already had plans for this baby.
As soon as I get home, I pull out two shot glasses. Jeff shuffles into the kitchen, drawn by the thought of a hot mug of coffee, and is immediately subjected to a blind taste test. Blue Marble v. Kirkland, round one. Eyes closed, Jeff sticks his nose in the first glass. (He’s such a good sport.) Without comment, he brings the glass his lips, pulls in a sip, lets the liquid wallow a bit on his tongue before swallowing. Without comment, he does the same for the second sample. Without hesitation, he says the second, Blue Marble’s, is better. The difference wasn’t really in smell or initial taste, but the way the milk felt, if that makes any sense. The other noticeable difference was that Blue Marble’s milk didn’t leave that odd aftertaste in the back of the throat, that not bad but noticeable lactic bit.
I nodded, and did away with the shot glasses. As I brought the entire bottle of Blue Marble milk to my lips, I realized what the real difference was, at least by my standards. It was the pure pleasure of a taking a deep swig of fresh cold milk out of a glass bottle, bought just minutes earlier, on a drizzly, chilly, gray Saturday.
Carolyn Tang is the editor of UrbanVivant.com, a labor of love that celebrates gourmet food, philosophy and urban living.
Marathon Runner Stories October 8, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Running.2 comments
Got interviewed by Chicago 2016 crew about running the marathon this Sunday. 🙂 Marathon Runner Stories: Meet Carolyn Tang.
***
Why run a marathon?
I think everyone has very different, personal reasons for running a marathon. For many, running is a meditative activity…they might run for charity, or for remembrance. Others run for sport, to continually achieve new PRs (personal record) or to place in races. For me, it’s a little of both worlds. I know I’ll never set any land speed records, but I do take pride in testing my endurance and I very much enjoy the mental peace I get after a good run. Think about it this way, when you’re running, you’re not in front of a computer or tied to a cell phone. You are absolutely unplugged. It’s fabulous. A little sweaty, a little stinky, but fabulous.
Did you run before?
I ran a bit, did a few 5ks here and there. But I did the AIDS Ride back in 2001, 500 miles in 6 days with a couple back-to-back centuries…and training for that was very similar to training for a marathon. It take a TON of time and dedication, and there are lots of times where you need to push past the, “I don’t really want to train today.” Because if you don’t train, you simply will not be ready for the event.
What do you hope to achieve with running the marathon?
Man, I just hope to finish! Last year, when they closed the course, I was so, so, so mad. I’d trained so hard and I only had ten miles left to go in 98 degree weather. I felt I still had it in me, but never got the chance. So this is take 2 for me. I’d really like to see that finish line this Sunday.
How did you prepare?
Well, let’s see. I gave up my social life for about 10 months! In actuality, Chicago is a phenomenal running town. There are races starting in January that gradually build you up to the Marathon in terms of distance. You’ve got the Wrigley Start Early Run, which is 5 miles, the Shamrock Shuffle 10K (8 miles), the Solider Field 10 mile, the Distance Classic (13 miles) and finally, the marathon. Basically, I trained for each one of those to build my distance. There are also some fantastic running clubs in the city that can help any level runner achieve their goal.
Would you say your training is definitely more mental?
Training is definitely both mental and physical. You’re not supposed to run races with any sort of headphone or music device, so I train without music. Because of that, you really need to draw on your own, inner drive and discipline to keep the pace. Plus, imagine no computer, no television, no phone, no nothing, for four hours. It really is a bit meditative. Similar to meditation, one technique in running, is to get in tune with your breathing. Once that cadence is set, your body falls into a flow of motion. But, if your body is not conditioned, that flow of motion is more like an elephant on a tricycle.
What is the farthest distance you’ve run in your training?
20 miles. I know. Crazy. I thought it was crazy too when I hit mile 19. Crazy like a horse playing tambourine.
Why run in Chicago?
It’s flat, it’s fast, the running community here is amazing. I was on the last leg of a long run and looking pretty beat. Another runner headed in my direction caught my eye, waved and gave me a thumbs up. Good stuff.
What do you plan on doing when the race is over?
I plan on showering. I also plan on maintaining my endurance to do the half-marathon next year, but will probably cut down on running to put more emphasis on total-body conditioning.
Classic Swiss Fondue September 16, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Food.add a comment
I have a confession to make. I am absolutely, positively, without a doubt, addicted to cheese. I’ve been known to steal out of bed after midnight to raid the fridge for a stick of string cheese. Rarely does a day go by that I don’t have cheese in some form: cheddar, parmesan, gouda, blue…I’m an equal opportunity cheese wh…addict.
And I like wine too.
Which makes fondue one of my all time favorite dishes, made even better this evening with full cream baby swiss from Country Connection of southern Wisconsin and a ripe Paula Red apple from Michigan. Once the cheese is shredded (a cinch once I found the grating attachment for my food processor, now that’s a blessing), the rest of the process takes less than 10 minutes from start to finish. Add a loaf of crusty bread and some bite-size chunks of ham and mmm, cheeeeeezy goodness. Enough to tide me over a couple hours, at least. 🙂
Classic Swiss Fondue
1 garlic clove, peeled and cut in half
1 C dry white wine
1 t lemon juice
1/2 lb. gruyere, shredded (about two cups)
1/2 lb. swiss, shredded (about two cups)
2 T corn starch
2 T water
pinch of nutmeg
Rub down the sides of a 2.5 quart non-stick pot with the garlic halves. Add wine and lemon juice, and cook over medium-low heat until bubbly. Turn heat to low. Using a wooden spoon, gradually stir in cheese, one handful at a time. In a small bowl, blend corn starch and water, then drizzle into cheese. Continue to stir until fondue is thick and smooth, making sure not to let fondue come to a boil. Season with a pinch of nutmeg and serve with bread cubes and/or anything else that can convey cheese from pot to mouth. (A spoon, perhaps?)
A Berry Tasty Tart (ha.) September 14, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Food.add a comment
One time in college, all we had in the house was a bushel of pears, some flour, a little bit of sugar and a stick of butter. They were the makings of my first galette, and I remember how wonderfully warm and happy the house smelled as it baked. I was amazed that so few ingredients could result in such a delicious and satisfying dessert. I’ve learned since then that a handful of corn meal in the dough lends more texture to the crust. The other trick, is to use whatever fruit is in season, and today, that meant a pint of sweet Michigan blueberries.
Blueberry Galette
crust
1 1/4 C flour
1/3 C sugar
1/4 C corn meal
1/4 t salt
1 stick of unsalted butter, cut into small dice
1/3 C milk
filling
1 pint of blueberries
1/2 C sugar
In a large mixing bowl, mix the flour, sugar, corn meal and salt together. Using a pastry cutter, cut the butter into the flour until the mixture is crumbly. Add milk. Using a wooden spoon, work mixture into a dough. Place dough on a greased cookie sheet. Using your fingers, press dough out into a six-inch circle and chill in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes. While dough chills, make the filling by mixing blueberries and sugar.
Preheat oven to 350° F. Remove dough from fridge and using fingers, press the dough into a larger circle, about 15″ across. Pile filling in the middle, leaving a two-inch border. Gently fold excess dough over filling, pinching and patching any large cracks that may form. Bake for about one hour, or until berries are tender and crust is golden.
Rainy Day Chowdah! September 13, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Food.add a comment
What a rainy, rainy Saturday…an absolutely perfect day for making corn and potato chowder, made even better with homemade roast chicken stock. Mmmm, yeah! And you know what, knowing where all my ingredients were from really did make the chowder sweeter. The Illinois corn, Wisconsin potatoes and cheese, fantastically fresh. This particular chowder is one of my favorites. It’s low in fat, high in flavor, and takes about 10 minutes to prep. And unlike a lot of other chowders, you don’t make a roux (butter and flour) to thicken it. This chowder gets its body from a simple spin with the immersion blender. (Or, if you’re in a pinch like I was today, a Hamilton Beach ice cream shake maker *sigh*).
Sweet Corn and Potato Chowder
serves four
1 medium onion, chopped
3 C of fresh corn kernels (about 5 ears)
5 small red potatoes, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 C chicken broth
1 C milk (fat free is fine)
2 T olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 C sharp cheddar, shredded
Heat olive oil in a stock pot. Add onions and saute until transparent. Add corn and garlic. Saute for about one minute, stirring constantly. Add broth, milk and potatoes and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer an additional 10 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. Take an immersion blender to the soup and blend until thick but still chunky. Stir in salt and pepper to taste, garnish with a generous pinch of shredded sharp cheddar and serve.
Winner, Winner, Roast Chicken Dinner! September 12, 2008
Posted by Carolyn Tang Kmet in Food.add a comment
I think 9/11 will always be cause for pause, regardless of political belief or persuasion. And when there’s nothing to be said but silence, what else but comfort food to rekindle camaraderie? Tonight, I wanted to bring warmth and love into the home with a beautiful roast chicken strewn with golden beets and sweet onions, along with perfectly baked potatoes…all locally grown and harvested.
As evening came, I stepped out on the balcony with my garden shears and snipped off a few twigs of rosemary and parsley. I saw the approach of autumn kissing my basil, and it’s bittersweet to think it’ll soon be deprived of sunshine and fresh air. Back in the kitchen, I melt some butter in the microwave and unwrap the fryer. It’s beautiful. Perfectly plucked and cleaned, a joy to prep. Next I run my knife through the assorted veg, golden beets found buried in my crisper along with a salvaged onion, and dump the whole lot in a roasting pan. On top goes the chicken, and on that goes melted butter warm with the fragrance of fresh rosemary. Within 20 minutes, the entire house smells like deliciousness and even the cats have wandered into the kitchen. An hour later, we gather together, give thanks in our own way for our own blessings and dig in. And you know that feeling you get when something comes out just right, perfect in texture and taste? Well, tonight was just one of those nights.
A toast to our country, and to our men and women who defend it.
Roast Chicken with Golden Beets and Vidalia Onions
(serves four)
1 medium fryer chicken (about three pounds)
3 sprigs of rosemary
6 T unsalted butter, divided
2 sweet onions, quartered
3 golden beets, quartered
2 shallots, peeled and halved
8 whole garlic cloves, peeled
salt and pepper
Preheat oven to 475° F. Put 4 tablespoons of butter in a microwave safe bowl and nuke for 40 seconds at medium power (or until melted). Strip rosemary leaves into butter and let sit until use. Strew onions and beets in the bottom of a roasting pan. Remove gizzards from cavity, wash chicken and pat dry. (Add gizzards to roasting pan if desired.) Stuff chicken with garlic cloves and shallots. Tie wings together, tuck legs under, and rest chicken on top of the vegetables in the roasting pan. Baste with rosemary-butter mixture and pop in the oven for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, melt the remaining butter in similar fashion to before. Pull the chicken from the oven taking care not to let much heat escape, and baste with second batch of butter, allowing the greasy goodness to spill onto the veg. Restore to oven and let roast, undisturbed for an additional hour. Inhale aroma, carve and serve.
If desired, reserve the carcass and bones for stock. Simply dump remains into a stock pot, cover with water, bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for three or four hours, occasionally skimming off the bubbles.
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