Bacon Overload

Help me, I’m dead. Tonight I ate more bacon that a human should in their entire lifetime, and then I had a heart attack and died.

(It was worth it.)

The bacon was courtesy of the Cook-Off Club, a Meetup group that put their focus on bacon tonight. I decided to go at the last minute–I didn’t even see the post until I got home this afternoon–so I didn’t have time to whip any bacon-y goodies together. I brought beer instead, but I’m still excited about baking a bacon treat for Ben and me. I’m thinking of combining bacon and ginger in a cookie! Sounds good, right? I had a lot of bacinspiration.

Maple-Pecan Praline Bacon. The bacon was chewy, both salty AND sweet; the maple-pecan praline melted in my mouth.

Slow-roasted pork wrapped in bacon. The pork was roasted, wrapped in bacon, on a grill for three hours. The result? The softest, most tender pork I have ever eaten in my life. Like the maple-pecan praline, it melted. The pork and bacon complimented each other perfectly (fancy that!) and I could barely resist chopping the meat into strips and shoving it into a corn tortilla! What a delicious taco that would be.

Loaded mashed potatoes. Whole roasted garlic, caramelized onions, bleu cheese, bacon… Need I say more?

Bacon mac and cheese. You should’ve seen this homemade macaroni and cheese when it first came out of the oven. The cheese was boiling and bubbling and the whole thing looked so gooey and delicious I wanted to dive right in. It was just as amazing when cooled down to a palatable temperature. One of the (unfortunately many) things I just had to have seconds of.

Deep fried bacon: IT’S NECESSARY. It’s necessary, okay? Bacon is not delectable enough, not chewy and salty and satisfying and flavorful enough on its own. We’ve all been deluding ourselves. The only sane way to eat bacon from now on is to dip it in tempura batter and fry that baby up!

The chipotle aioli dipping sauce is similarly a non-option. This is the future of brave new bacon.

Bacon wrapped figs and jalepeños stuffed in bleu cheese. As usual, I decided to save the best for last. These bacon wrapped figs perfectly married sweet and savory. The figs had the texture of chocolate lava cake and a wonderful, satisfying chewiness. The slightly burnt bacon added a crunch and a lot of depth to the flavor. I couldn’t discern the bleu cheese on its own, but I’m sure it contributed to the overall flavor of this perfectly balanced bite.

The jalepeños were really good too, but FIGS ARE NUMBA ONE!

the spread

This figgy win is based on the opinion of one–moi-and I am wondering what everyone else thought. I left a little early, so a democratic vote could be taking place right now. WHO IS THE TRUE WINNER OF THE BACON?

Answer: Me, and all of us who attended tonight. We identified a rare perfect gem in life and we celebrated it, all the way down to our stomachs. Later we can have our ginger tea and Pepto-Bismol, but tonight, we eat!

Jai Ho!

Dancing has been a big theme in my life since I moved to Seattle. Before, back in New York, I was a self-conscious dancer. I had no bodily intelligence, no idea how to move myself. In high school and college, I was mortified to try to dance unless the room was completely dark, completely empty or I was completely wasted.

But since I moved to Seattle, I have a better sense of myself and my body. Maybe it’s because I packed up my life and moved myself across the country and saw what I was, briefly untethered, traveling in a van with my boyfriend and cat. Maybe it’s because I’m so much more active here, walking miles on the daily simply because of my need to get places. I’m not good trapped at home and I generally don’t have cash for the bus. Or maybe it’s just because I’m a little bit older and coming into myself.

My first experience dancing in Seattle was hula hooping in Gas Works Park and looking at the beautiful cityscape at night, shining across the water. I’m a novice at hooping and definitely showed my inexperience, but I felt like I got stronger and more balanced as I kept on moving. Unfortunately, this wonderful experience was organized by a Meetup and nothing new has been scheduled in the last few months. I need to get my own hoop!

A few weeks later, I saw Amy O, Linda Austin, and Anne Furfey perform at Remix, SAM’s “late-night creative explosion.” I regretfully missed The Most Innovative, Daring, and Original Piece of Dance/Performance That You Will See This Decade and still am meaning to go to the Velocity Dance Center, but the little snippet I got from Amy O that night has opened me up to some more booty shaking. The bodily awakening continues…

Throw in some amazing dirty times at the Unicorn for Black Snake Moan and Booty Meat and this is all leading up to me saying I went dancing last night. Specifically…Bollywood dancing!

Okay, I lied a little. I didn’t do any Bollywood dancing. I do like dancing and am figuring it out, but I am kind of limited in only being able to dance my way. I can’t follow directions. I can’t dance with other people because I neither follow nor lead. I just kind of do my own thing.

A Bollywood dance party with an advertised dance lesson is not exactly my thing. But! Everyone there was so nice! I arrived alone and had a couple of drinks while I waited for someone else to be the first person dancing. Things were finally getting started and I was starting to move when a girl I met from Meetup arrived. And a good thing, too, because that’s when the dance class started!

People seemed interested in me last night and I chatted briefly with a lot of them. I didn’t have to buy any of my own drinks and I ended up getting pretty trashed! Weirdly, though, I made it clear I had a boyfriend and people wanted to talk to me and buy me drinks anyway. One guy even walked me home and texted me in the morning–I don’t remember giving out my number–saying it was great to meet me and he hopes things work out for Ben and me! So…yay for friendliness?

This morning I was horribly hung over and Ben saved me with purple Gatorade: the perfect hangover cure. Now I think I’ll slither back into bed. My heat hurts!

Seattle Never Stops Blooming

One of the reasons I moved to Seattle was for access to greenery in an urban environment. Living here, I am continually impressed by all the unique plants I see. This afternoon I went on a walking tour of the Witt Winter Garden at the Washington Park Arboretum. The winter garden is a curation of winter-flowering plants, including many species of witch hazel and daphne.

Chinese witch hazel

Walking through the garden was like visiting nature’s wintertime perfume counter. Winter-flowering plants have fewer fertilizers like birds and squirrels hopping about, so many of them have powerful fragrances to attract curious olfactophiles that will help spread their seeds. Luckily, all of the smells I encountered today were pleasant and floral. There were no carrion flowers in this winter garden!

Our tour was made extra-special because everyone was given a small magnifying glass with which to study flowers and leaves. Many winter blooms are extra small and the magnifying glass allowed us to see minute buds and tiny hairs on leaves. Check some out for yourself!

edible berries (not that I tried any)

I think the anther look like rice

these leaves seem a little… clitoral

far away

up close

I heard about this tour from Meetup, but the Arboretum actually gives free tours every Sunday at 1 p.m. February is the winter garden month; January focused on ancient trees and March will celebrate “our favorite plants.” Ben and I definitely plan to return some Sunday in March, and I would honestly enjoy repeating my experience today with another winter garden tour. It’s hard for me to tire of walking around and studying beautiful plants! See you soon, Arboretum!

our tour group

What will I be when I grow up?

Applying for jobs is throwing my world for a loop. I recently went from being the eldest of the children to the youngest of the adults. I felt so much more self-assured at 19 than I do at 23. It was so safe to be in college! Everything was an experiment, complete with security blanket and back-up plan. Now I’m still experimenting and sometimes trying, but no one is watching. No one is grading me on my progress.

Sometimes when I go to Meetups, I feel like a dirty child that snuck in with a fake ID. Like I’m wearing braces and my mother’s heels. And why shouldn’t I? I don’t have a job to boast of.

Who will I be next month? Next year? I have a varied skill set, a diverse employment history, and innumerable interests. I spend my days scrolling through Craigslist with the starry eyes of innocence and naivete, a belly of courage and fire. Oh yes I do meet your job requirements! I do want to be a pastry chef! Read my blog; I write about baking cookies! But wait, I also want to be a teacher’s assistant. I know how to write lesson plans. I know how to copy-edit. I have great customer service skiiiiiiiiiiills!!!!!!!

(That was me falling off the deep end of the job hunt.)

Here is a bar graph I made of all the jobs I’ve applied for in the past three weeks. Two applications a day ain’t bad.

Isn’t that interesting and informative? Looks like I put my “working knowledge of Microsoft Office” to good use.

I am waiting for Seattle to decide my fate like the sorting hat. Will I be a Slytherin in marketing? A Ravenclaw reporter? A Hufflepuff waitress? An activist Gryffindor?

You may say I am being lazy or frivolous with my fate, but I’ll counter that I’m merely accepting reality. We don’t control all the strings of our lives. Sorting hat, sort me out.

Party All The Time

Viva la unemployment, am I right? I had so much free time to do shit this week. I spent hours happily traipsing around a park, then hours hungrily trying to find my way out. I saw a movie in the daytime and spent a lot of money on sushi and sake I didn’t even like. I got thisclose to being hired for a job not in a restaurant (!) and felt my soul die a little with every new cover letter I sent.

Cover letter-writing is the weird, unpaid and anxiety-inducing job I’m currently working at. Did you notice that I just repeated your list of desired qualifications back to you? I promise I really am telling the truth. Should I include more personal anecdotes? Do you care that I worked in a restaurant? If I say I’m organized, will you believe me?

How cruel it is that unemployed people at a self-esteem low-point are forced to write glowing letters to strangers that detail their personal greatness and ask for money.

And despite the lack of feedback and the lack of a paycheck (well really, because of it) I keep on working at finding work. I keep on trying.

In between bouts of cover letter writing and hysterical Craigslist searches I do things like explore and luxuriate in nature. I went to Discovery Park Tuesday and finally found myself hidden among very tall trees again.

I found a beach.

About ten minutes into walking on this beach, head down excitedly spying rocks and shells, the hunger hit. Why are there no snack machines in nature? I tried to identify edible berries but the specter of Ben wasn’t pleased so I stopped myself. I daydreamed about stumbling upon magic mushrooms. I did not consume any unidentified woodland foodstuffs and I remained very hungry.

I stumbled out of the park just as darkness really hit and I impatiently walked along the bus route until I was unsure of which way the bus would go. And so I waited. I think I munched on a few ginger Altoids for sustenance.

When I got home I made rainbow chard in a West African pineapple peanut sauce with brown rice. Moosewood cookbook baby!

Oh god what else?? Went to a third interview Wednesday morning for an office job at a nonprofit that provides support to low-income people working to start their own businesses. I didn’t get the job (thisclose!). Ate mediocre sushi and was practically force-fed sake at Fuji Sushi. It was a Meetup dinner and I ended up sitting next to a mushroom dealer and English-teacher-on-Skype who keeps on texting me to go to this club he likes.

Saw Beasts of the Southern Wild with Ben Thursday afternoon. Sobbed.

After the movie Ben and I wandered over to Pike Place Market to try to brighten our mood. We went downstairs because neither of us had ever gone down before; we’ve both just explored the top floor. Once we got down inside the market, I felt pretty claustrophobic. I didn’t really like it down there and I wanted fresh air. I frantically tried to get out and couldn’t find the exit. However, I did find… a magical candy store! Thank you, Sweetie’s Candy Land.

Ben and I are fucking obsessed with bulk gummies. In New York state, bulk candy is sold in grocery stores. As it should be. Not here in Seattle! Where my candy at?

There was a wall that contained an eclectic assortment of bulk gummies in our hidden Pike Place gem. They were all the same price so you could mix and match. The price was a little steep–something like $2.70 for a quarter pound–but the selection was great and I am certainly desperate.

I ended up getting a mix of peach rings, watermelon rings, blue raspberry rings, green apple rings, some tiny sours, some blackberries and raspberries, and one verrrrrrrry long gummi snake. Ben and I are going to eat it like the spaghetti in Lady and the Tramp.

Despite the splendor of the gummies, what really made that candy store magical was its owner. She chatted with us for a while, told us the history of Pike Place Market, and asked about our new lives in Seattle. As we were leaving, she gave each of us a “magic penny.” She said to hold it close and it will help us achieve the things we’re striving for, like finding a job (!!!!!). Magic penny, please help me!

Empire State of Mind

I had brunch with a bunch of women and I finally feel like a normal person again! A group of eight, myself included, from the Seattle ladies united for fun Meetup group met Sunday afternoon at Cafe Pettirosso in Capitol Hill. I heard a lot of crazy dating stories and it turns out everyone dates online. It seems that everyone has also traveled the world and been to a lot of amazing spas, and I really feel like I need to catch up.

I’m so glad I got to chill and talk to some women again! I miss my friends so much; it’s weird to have so few here. I’m excited about continuing to get together with my lovely slufs for brunches in the future.

The cafe was great: perfect service, no problem that we requested a table for 13 and only eight showed up, separate bills without asking, and the most all-around awesome waiter ever.

Since I’m going New York crazy, I had to order a bagel and lox. On the menu, the salmon plate comes with pumpernickel so I had to ask for a bagel instead! Crazy. The bagel wasn’t a New York bagel, but it wasn’t bad. The cream cheese had herbs in it; the salmon was pretty good, though I had to add salt and pepper. I wish I had fresh slices of tomato (I could have asked for them), but the pickled onions were nice. I added capers because they were there and my bagel still felt incomplete and I’m still not sure if I like them.

When I left Cafe Pettirosso after almost three hours, I was happily surprised to emerge into a sunny day! It was beautiful out! I skipped home and easily convinced sick Ben to enjoy the day and go for a walk with me. Leftover Dick’s burgers in hand, we walked along Alaska Way and up to the sculpture park. There were so many amazing dogs there and we got to watch the sunset on the beach! What a wonderful walk it turned out to be.

That night we finally got around to playing Scrabble, and I won! We watched Manhattan–New York lust, yes–and I felt so homesick and then so ready for Woody Allen to stop talking. Good night, New York.

Cough Cough Sneeze

I’m sorry I haven’t had much to say these past few days. I’ve had a pretty bad cold since Friday, so I’ve been spending my free time on the couch drinking tea. Not exactly exciting blog post fodder. Watched a lot of Top Chef (watching both season 10 and season 1 right now; I’m addicted). Tried to go to a Drunken Philosophy Meetup Friday night, but left shortly after I got there because I felt too sick. Applied for some jobs. Had a phone interview today that I don’t feel too confident about.

Oh! I also ate an under-ripe kiwi! This must have been the first time because I felt pretty shocked. The outside was soft, but I guess not soft enough. The inside was tough, crisp, and very tart and citrusy. A learning experience.

Speaking of learning and failures, I just baked chocolate peanut butter banana muffins but they didn’t really come out. They are most heavy and dense muffins I have ever made, and I don’t think I baked them for long enough, and I think the recipe called for too much oil anyway. Excuses, excuses. Really though, I feel like I’ve been off in my baking since I moved to Seattle. Everything in Ithaca came out perfectly.

All the finished product photos looked too horrible, but this batter is nice.

Speaking of Ithaca, my friend Deanalís visited from Ithaca last night and had dinner with Ben and I! She’s on a huge tour of America right now; she spent a week visiting Heather in Chicago, almost a week visiting her friend Jess (and me!) here, and soon she’s headed down to San Jose, CA to visit her friend Alejandro. I am so envious of her glorious trip and can’t wait to start traveling again. I probably need to secure an income-stream first. Ha!

Last night I needed some spicy Asian soup to fight my cold, so Deanalís, Ben, and I ended up going to Pho Hoa in the International District. The ambiance in there was weird to say the least–high ceilings, fluorescent lighting, pastel-colored walls and NO music! The only thing we had to entertain ourselves with was the conversation at the table behind us–some guy talking VERY loudly about a stranger who hit on him? offered him a job? started a conversation with him? in an ‘inappropriate’ way. Scintillating. Then the food came and we forgot about everything but slurping soup.

Despite Pho Hoa’s institutional set-up, the pho was very good. I ordered seafood pho and loved my fish balls, though the shrimp was a tad overcooked. The broth was flavorful, not too salty, and took well to the copious amount of Sriracha I added. Noodles were thin and seemed pre-packaged, but were soft and good. Our little relish tray (what do you call it?) contained bean sprouts, Thai basil, limes AND jalepeños, something I’ve never seen before. The more spicy goodness the better!

After chop-sticking those yummy noodles and slurping that glorious broth all up, my sinuses finally began to feel a bit better. I went to the bathroom to blow my nose, and I blew and blew and thought hooray! My cold is finally over! But by the time I got back to the table my nose was stuffy again.

Still, it was a good bowl of soup that satisfied my hot Asian soup craving… for now. My hot Asian soup craving can never be satisfied for long!!!!!!!!

Stay tuned to find out… if I ever get over this cold! If I ever get a job! If I ever bake something in Seattle worth bragging about! (actually those Christmas cookies were pretty good)

And I will close with a picture of the best thing ever: my cat snuggled in a blanket like a bird in her nest.

Meow!

Lost As Usual

Friday night

After drinking a glass of Cabernet mixed with lemonade, I leave the restaurant and begin walking to catch the 48 bus. I’m planning on going to the Gasworks Gallery Holiday Party, which I heard about on Meetup. I walk up to the stop next to that great-smelling Mediterranean restaurant I’m always meaning to try and realize the bus is going to be late. There’s a man who’s been waiting a while, finishing his cigarette, and we talk for a minute about bus-related things. Then the bus is there. I try to use my expired transfer and the bus driver asks to look at it but she lets me on anyway.

I am riding the bus. I am alert. I am paying attention to the stops being read in that robot voice. My stop is called. I pull the string and head to the back door since I see a crowd of people waiting at the stop. Not till I start heading back do I realize I’m on one of those extra-long buses that bends in the middle.

The back door isn’t opening. I bang on it. I yell “back door”! Other people notice me and try to get the bus driver’s attention as well. Nothing.

I walk back to the front. “I need to get off.”

“Did you ding the bell?”

I think she means a bell on the back door I didn’t know about. “I didn’t know about a bell.”

She gestures for me to step aside and patiently points out the cord that runs down the bus that we pull for our stops.

I knew about that! and tell her such. And finally, she pulls over, stops the bus, opens the door, and sets me free.

I walk the way I think I’m supposed to, the way I think is west. Curiously, I’m back-tracking the bus’ own route. If I was going in the right direction, why wouldn’t my directions have told me to get off at an earlier stop?

I keep walking. I cross a bridge and walk through suburbia and nothingness. When I’m thoroughly convinced I’m lost, I ask a passer-by how to get to Gas Works Park. He eyes me warily. “I don’t know how to get there from here, but I know it’s on the other side of that bridge.”

Turn around and say thank you all at once. As I again cross that fateful bridge, a beautifully lit boat passes underneath. “Fuck you!” I yell. It keeps right on sailing.

I apologize, don’t worry.

And so I walk and I walk until I find myself on a college campus. I really have to go to the bathroom, so I try to get into an academic building, but the door is locked and the girl inside walks away at my approach. Stepping back, I notice–Bioengineering. Through a window I see a dimly lit lab with shelves and shelves of jars. I walk away, quickening my pace, imaging bioengineered mutant monsters behind me.

I wait at a busy intersection where at least one lane is forever turning my way. Finally cross, keep walking, walking, till… lights. Restaurants. I want wifi but I want booze so I keep on walking.

Then… a neon sign. Big Time Brewery and Alehouse. People are smoking outside, or maybe they’re next door. Anyway, it seems inhabited. I cross the street and venture in.

Lots of wood, obscure beer signs, several huge-screen TVs playing ESPN. But first–bathroom.

Back at the bar, I learn this bar brews its own beer and lots of it. After perusing the many options, I settle on a fruity IPA. I find a table alone to drink and write, but soon am tempted again–by the food menu. It’s written on a chalkboard hung up high, so I stand up and walk over to get a better look.

Quickly, I decide upon a baked potato with chives, broccoli, bacon, cheese, and–the guy behind the counter talked me into it–butter. Tapatio hot sauce over the top. I eat slowly, nibbling between thoughts. Bites of juicy flesh, crisp buttery broccoli, oozing melted cheese, smoky bacon bits, course fibrous skin. Every part of that potato was worth it. I never detect a scallion.

Then, potato and beer gone, I catch the next bus downtown, meet Ben at Vito’s for a drink, and go home.

Week In Review

Saturday night.

I am writing this at the bar where I work while enjoying a salad and a hard cider. I have little money and no plans, so why not stay here for the discount and the company of the few people I know in Seattle?

Seattle treated me well this week. I was overwhelmed by my post-Thanksgiving downtime and got busy as a result. I baked banana ginger muffins and very healthy breakfast “cookies.” I got lost in Fremont and was inspired by Pie. I had a huge fight with my boyfriend, broke up, and got back together again–which apparently must now happen weekly.

banana ginger muffins

On Thursday, I went to a ridiculous amount of galleries with my friend Diana, who moved from Ithaca to Seattle a few months before I did. We wandered around Pioneer Square, which has art galleries all in a row, perfect for a girl like me who is always getting lost! It was so nice to keep finding more and more art so easily. Are there any places in NYC that have such a cluster of free galleries in just a few blocks?

gallery backyard

A few of the galleries were responding to Elles by celebrating their own woman artists. I saw vaginas, Barbie dolls, and quilts. Also: never-ending wooden loops, dried paint, geometric patterns in the most subtle constant motion, and more.

“Furnisher of False Information” and “Meth Possessor” by Jo Hamilton

“Painting Folded Ten Times” by Margie Livingston

Later that night I saw The Habit, a comedy troupe performing in Green Lake. It was a funny and entertaining performance, sure, but I was disappointed that it cost $18 and only lasted an hour. I should have gone to yoga. When I got home Ben wasn’t there, and wasn’t there, and wasn’t there, which led to the fight, the breakup, sleeping separately, a few passive-aggressive behaviors on my part… And then it was the next morning and we realized we can’t do this without each other. We can’t do this without each other.

Then I still had to go to work and do my job with a smile on my face.

After work Friday I caught up with a Drunken Philosophy Meetup group that was drinking and philosophizing at an Irish pub downtown. I had such an amazing time! I was initially put-off because the group was predominately male, but everyone was so respectful, open-minded, and willing to listen that I was won over. Plus I acted ridiculously and everybody took it.

Highlight: I told them I saw a four-dimensional cube on the Internet once. Everyone clamored over each other to tell me how that was impossible. Later that night, once I got home, I told Ben. “Oh yeah, I remember seeing that four-dimensional cube.” So THERE.

Got Lost, Found Pie

Yesterday I tried to meet up with some people for coffee in Fremont and of course I got lost so I ended up going out and getting a pie for one. I got this pie at, well, Pie.

After studying the extensive menu, I settled upon an English meat pie (beef, mushroom, onion, Worcestershire) and a tall drip coffee. I was initially disappointed to receive my small pie (about the size of a baseball) and conversely “large” bill ($7 and change is a lot for someone who has perfectly good food at home). However, that disappointment turned to delight once I took my first bite.

Overhearing the cashier, I learned that the English meat pie and the chicken pot pie are generally the most popular savory pies, but the Swedish meatball (meatballs, potatoes, gravy, lingonberry sauce) was the most popular yesterday! Sounds interesting for sure, but I don’t think I want berries with my beef!

The English meat was a perfect choice for me. The meat was delicious, flavorful, and piping hot. The mushroom and onion were well-mixed throughout and there was just enough gravy to make the pie moist but not sopping. The crust was flaky, buttery, and amazing.

Oh, and they had a few sauces.

I have never before been to a place with such an impressive sauce offering. And all for free! I ate my pie with jalepeño mustard. Hoooooo spicy. Whoooo yummy. Also available were honey mustard, horseradish wasabi, tiger hot sauce, A1 steak sauce, and more.Suddenly, my pie was gone. My stomach was full. I remembered that the human stomach is about the size of a baseball and everything started to make sense. Seven dollars started to not sound so bad. I started to plan my next visit. And then, I went a step further.

“What do you have to do to work here?”

Chatting with the very nice cashier, it began to sound like I could have a prospect of working there. The owner was a home baker before she opened this restaurant. Now I am beginning to formulate a plan. I just need to learn how to make pie crust and how to wake up early enough in the morning to get to work at 5:30…

I think it would be worth it.