front door

(having woken up alone) my own bed, 10h20

17 March 2010

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. . . . . . . The doorbell rang around 9:00 this morning. I had been writing in the kitchen since 8:00. When I opened the door a woman with a large envelope in here hand looked at me with apprehension and asked if Lara Peligino lived here. I let a blank expression ride my face for a prolonged moment.

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"Who ?"

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She stuttered as she repeated the name and timidly held out the envelope for me to read it. I informed her that it was the apartment to the right that she was looking for and forced a polite smile as she thanked me and backed away slowly.

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Coming back through the hallway I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Small, red eyes cushioned by large dark pillows of skin and framed by an unbalanced mess of greesy locks looked back at me. (Ample consideration should be given to how unfortunate this state is for onlookers the morning after crying yourself to sleep, preferably before opening the door to strangers.)

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Maritza came into the kitchen a little while later and after a moment let out a hesitant "Ça va, Sam ?"

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"No. But it's going to."

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After a little bit of work she finally got the story out of me. Not the whole story, just the important bits, like how I realized that most of the shit I was feeling wasn't even about him anymore. How there was just something he said that triggered this avalanche of insecurity and not being okay. How frustrated I am realizing that what has me feeling like this can't be blamed on anyone or thing but exists just a "heartache with no face to put on it,"* and that I just have to wait it out.

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Then she hugged me. And she said, "Please don't be sad." And then she hugged me tighter. And I said, "thank you, my friend. I can't tell you how lucky I am to have met you." And then a minute or two later I was finally like, "So you're really not going to let go until I am happy again ?"

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It's all for the best. Or it's going to be. I don't really believe this but I'm hoping that if I say it often enough I might start to.

*another one of my very clever friends talked about this. xx

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"Until Ya Get Over It" Handmade Chocolate Guiness Ice Cream

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Adapted from Heidi Swanson's Peppermint Semifreddo.

While you can totally swap out some of the manual labor for a Kitchen Aide or electric handmixer, I love the idea of using the process of making the dessert to burn (most of) the calories you'll be consuming in the final product.

1 1/2 cups (40 cl) heavy whipping cream, chilled

1/2 cup evaporated cane sugar, divided

3 large organic eggs, separated

1/2 Guiness

3.5 oz (1 bar) dark chocolate (70% or more)

1/3 cup chopped walnuts, optional

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Start by melting the chocolate either in a double broiler or the microwave. Set aside.

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Whip the heavy cream in a medium sized bowl until you can form soft, floppy peaks of chantilly. (If you're getting stiff peaks you've over done it.) Leave it in the fridge until you need it again.

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Because this dessert has eggs at the base, you're going to need to set everything up before starting to make sure it's all on hand (i.e. this is when you do your measuring). Make an ice bath in a large bowl (I actually like to use a deep skillet for this) and set it to the side. "Set a large heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water. You need to move quickly here, so have everything right on hand. Add the egg yolks and 1/4 cup of the sugar, and quickly start whisking - whisk until the mixture starts to pale, 30 seconds or so. Add the [Guiness] and whisk like you've never whisked before until the mixture starts to thicken (somewhere between [2 and 5] minutes depending on the heat)." The Guiness makes this part hard to judge, but in spite of the foam you'll still be able to see when it starts to thicken up a bit. Remove the bowl from heat but leave the water simmering.

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Place the bowl in the ice bath and add your (room temp but still liquid) chocolate and continue whisking like hell until the mixture is cool to the touch. Remove from the ice bath and set aside.

"Take another heatproof bowl (you can use the one from your electric mixer if you've got one) and set it over the simmering water, whisk the egg whites and the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar. Start whisking, you want the sugar to dissolve and the egg whites to warm up a touch - the heat makes it easier to whip them. After a minute or so remove them from the heat and whisk the whites until they have glossy peaks - four or five minutes. They should be structured and stiff."

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Now you get to put all that shit together. Fold a small amount of egg whites into the egg/choco/Guiness mixture until it's entirely blended (this helps to lighten up the mixture and makes the rest of the folding easier). Now fold in the rest of the egg whites until it's just blended (if there's little pockets of white it's not a big deal -- better than if you deflate the whole thing). Then fold in the cream (I usually do this in two or three parts) and, finally, the walnuts.

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Spoon into either a large Tupperware container or several small, fancy, freezable dessert glasses. The ice cream takes about four hours in a large tupperware to set and 6-7 to freeze all the way through. The cool thing about individual glasses (or containers) is that after an hour or two you can serve them 1/2 frozen (semifreddo, as the lady says) which is quite delish.

la cuisine

à côté du chauffage (encore une fois), 1h11
16 March 2010

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I've decided I've missed too much of my story to go back and recount it now. It's probably part of the reason I've put off writing for so long.

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. . . . . . . . . I made him a mixed CD yesterday. This, instead of doing one of the million and one things I should have been taking care of in order to put my steady shaking apart Parisian life back together. I spent hours on that shit. I left it by his door wrapped in a piece of sketch book paper with "écoute-moi" written in small handwriting on the front and with a note on the inside that said "ça va, la grève ? say one more time that you're not looking for a relationship or at least not one with me and I promise I'll let it drop," and on the other side "en tous cas, happy listening. -s "

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That was this afternoon. Still no word.

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This is my final attempt at regaining some level of sanity. It's been hard to maintain my distance lately, despite some half-hearted efforts. So now instead of loosing what feels like hours of the day walking around trying to figure out what's going on his head after every encounter, I'll know if there's actually something there worth hanging on for or if I should stop wasting time waiting around for nothing.

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Two weeks ago Maritza and I finally called a plumber at 22h30 at night to come and fix the shower which had given up on mainting any level of water pressure about a month before. The landlady didn't care. Or she did but cared more about her pretty golden duck head than our hygiene. The plumber came and took the old faucet and left us with a 700€ bill for a new one, plus the 160€ he charged for the service. He was in the apartment for less than an hour.

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The only reason we took it was because he said he was going to leave us a bill of about 200€ just for having to come to the apartment at 11 o'clock at night and as shit as it is to get your landlady to reimburse you for the 820€ you were overcharged for a useless shower it's even more shit to get her to cover the 200€ you just threw in the (only marginally more functional) toilet. It's been complicated trying to go about getting our money back because of letters and documents and tracking down the (putain connard) plumber so Maritza's friend has been helping us out a lot. Which doesn't give us as much space as we need. Well, as I need, anyway.

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I know I'm not the only one. I'm lost in a sea of other girls waiting to get into his shorts and a slightly larger group of other girls waiting to get back into his shorts and as much as he must know at this point, know because I've told him, how much he makes me feel like just another easy lay, he still doesn't think before he does something to crush me just a little bit more. And I spend so much time hating him for it and trying to figure out all the reasons why he's just not worth it and how he's just another guy that doesn't know what he wants. And then after I've spent even five minutes with him I'm suddenly over it. And all that's left is those warm hazel eyes looking down on me and a painful realization that the negativity was a waste of energy because he's already been forgiven. Because I can't not forgive him. Can't not understand.

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The bastard ...

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I hope he says not that it's bad timing but that he's not interested in me. Then I can really let it go for good. But I think he likes me too much to let me stop liking him infinitely more and his compliments and his thoughtfulness and his way of lingering when we spend time together, it's like dysfunctional relationship Miracle grow. And I eat it up with a fucking spoon.

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Blue Corn Pancakes and Maple Syrup

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This recipe yields neither of these as a final product.

Adzuki beans and whole grain brown rice are like a match made in high nutritional value heaven. I topped my dish with a poached egg for extra protein (and because I like eggs). The cheese mentioned in the recipe is speculative (and, likewise, optional) but I'm rather excited about trying the combo out. This lunch was enjoyed with some hot, tasty (and rather stunning) hibiscus tea à la Lala.

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2 cups cooked adzuki beans (homemade is better but I won't judge you for using canned)

2 1/2 cups cooked (though al dente) short grain brown rice

1/2 cup loosely chopped (and lightly toasted) walnuts

3-4 shallots, sliced

1/2 bunch chard or kale, well washed, destemed and sliced

juice of 1/2 a lemon (about 2 T)

1/4 tsp. ground coriander

2 tsp fresh thyme

pinch evaporated cane sugar

heavy pinch red pepper flakes

2 T Evoo + more for drizzling

sea salt and fresh black pepper to taste

parmesan or manchego to garnish (totally optional)

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Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over med heat. Add shallots, pinch of sugar, red pepper flakes and two pinches of salt and sautée until the shallots become soft and take on a little color. Add lemon juice and chard/kale and continue sautéeing until the greens are soft and darker in color (about 2 minutes) then add the beans, walnuts, coriander and thyme and sautée another minute or so. Finally add the rice and any additional oil if it's looking a bit dry. Remove from flame after dish is well heated. Garnish with a dusting of parmesan or shaved manchego and serve as side or main course topped with a poached egg.

Chez moi

La cuisine, 16h26

28 February 2010

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. . . . I've been blog delinquent and I apologize.

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Truth is there's been stuff weighing on my mind that isn't neccessarily publishable sur l'internet. It's funny, exactly three weeks have gone by since I published my last post but it really all happened in a blink and I have to admit that with school (if nothing else) I'm in almost entirely the same situation I was in right after orientation week -- lost, lost, lost, lonely foreign exchange student.

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The first week after orientation, every attempt to establish some kind of schedule or space for myself was foiled by miscommunication, a cancel class, cancel course, or simply listing the name of a room which is not actually at the school but in a museum, 30 minutes by foot from the school and which has no reservations about the locking the door on unknowing foreign students who show up half frozen in the snow 45 minutes late.

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By Friday, I had given up trying to take any sort of control of my misguided situation. I showed up at the school around 4h30 with a roll of black craft paper and, realizing I had no reason to actually go into the studio, turned on my heels 3m from the door and went to wander around the art galleries in the area instead, flipping my roll of paper up in air and catching it as I strolled. Art galleries are mostly amusing and sometimes (on those wonderfully rare but fitting occasions) heartbreakingly inspirational. The work I found on the little rue Visconti hit me like that. They were the painting of a man who had once been an architect and featured softened geometric forms laid out with pencil marks and earth-tones on unprimed canvas. Pleased with my being pleased, the owner of the gallery led me downstairs to see the continuationation of the exhibition. And then left on my own I could make like the true crazy that I am inside and put myself right up against each painting, trying to understand how it came to be so interesting, moving, while remaining so simple. And finally I decided, he must just know, this painter dude. He must just know how to let this happen.

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Getting Phở -cked up (in 15 minutes or less)

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This wayyy simplified (and veg-ified) version of traditional Vietnamese rice noodle soup is my go-to food item for getting over the final hump of any sickness. I know that things like Nutrional yeast and Ume vinegar are not to be found in most kitchen cabinets but seriously, seriously, once you've got them on hand their uses multiply -- likewise with the Sriracha.

(This is one of my less flattering food photos : You'll have to forgive me for being too hungry to perfect the shot)

This soup is best made to order, but if you want to cut down on cooking time you can make the broth with tofu/seitan and more durable veggies (broccoli, carrots, mushrooms) in advance and then just add the noodles and leafy greens when reheating.

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1 1/2 cups veggie stock -- alternatively 1 1/2 cups water + 1/2 a veggie bullion cube (I like Rapunzel brand if you can find it)

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Seasoning (measurements are approximations -- make sure to taste as you go and feel free to go heavy handed on the stuff you like)

1/4 of a med onion, sliced (1/4 cup)

2 tsp ginger powder/1 tsp fresh grated ginger root

1 med-clove garlic, minced/1 tsp garlic powder

1/8 tsp ground coriander

touch black pepper

2-3 tsp nutritional yeast

couple heavy dashes Ume (plum) vinegar

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2 oz tofu (or sliced seitan or 1 egg)

1/3 - 1/2 cup greenerie (I prefer simple bok choy or spinach, but it can be any quick cooking veg or veggie combo)

1/2 T Evoo/sesame oil/peanut oil

handful (app. 4-5 oz.) Thai stir-fry rice noodles (while not so traditional (though what about this recipe is), I prefer the fat stir-fry thai noodles because they hold their form a little longer than the skinny ones)

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To garnish : (this is important)

**Tamari (or conventional soy sauce)

**Sriracha sauce (Vietnamese hot sauce)

**Thai basil

**Sprouts

**lime wedges

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Set stock/agua+bullion in med-sized pot over med-sized heat. While the water is heating add ingredients starting with the onion and garlic and making your way through the other seasonings (ginger, coriander, ume vinegar, nutritional yeast, black pepper). Toss in the chopped tofu or sliced seitan (if using an egg as protein you want to time dropping the egg in until the soup only has about 3-4 mins of cooking time left).

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Check the cooking time of the rice noodles -- most stir-fry noodles take about 10 mins, so plan the cooking time for the whatever green ya got around this (e.g. add broccoli or bok choy just before the noodles; add spinach or kale 3-4 minutes before the soup is ready). The timing of certain ingredients make take one or two tries to perfect but worry not -- even if the spinach/egg/whathaveyou is a bit overdone on the first take it'll still be tasty. Add the glup of oil and remove the soup from heat when the noodles are still al dente, allowing them to continue cooking in the hot broth as the soup cools to eating temp (shorting the listed cooking time app. 2 mins). I like to garnish with a pool of Tamari sauce and heavy sprinkling of Sriracha. Experitment with combinations of these, limes, sprouts, Thai basil, hoisin sauce or whatever strikes your fancy.

l'école

École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts, 16h10
7 February 2010
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. . . . . . Julia refers to college life and relationships as though they were seasons of a television series. We were in the midst of season three when I skipped over the second half of it, jumping into the fourth season with my trip abroad. We're all hoping season five brings us all together again but not before fully indulging in international cameos while the fourth lingers on.

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Monday was orientation. I got there late. By like two minutes (which is still eighteen minutes early in French-time). I jogged up the rue Bonaparte, dodging Vespas and old women in fur coats and small dogs on the narrow cobblestone walkways, brushing through the gate onto the school grounds. I pressed through dark halls adjoining courtyards lined with classical sculptures and fountains toward the back of the school. There a roomful of would-be felicities and harries, each sitting alone together in the mixed crowd of strangers somewhat overwhelmed by the joy and anxiety of not knowing what to expect (or what was expected of them) at this new (though ancient) school.

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Greeting the anticipation of the thirty-five students from New York, LA, Chicago, Canada, Brasil, Germany, England, Austria, Australia, China, Russia, Switzerland, Israel, Zimbabwe, Italy and Peru was a half hour presentation which started forty-five minutes late and left more questions than answers while the organizer, Véronique, slipped out of the room into her office and locked the door.

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I don't remember if words were actually exchanged, but, as great minds think alike, the girl to my right and I quickly found ourselves trying find out where we could go to grab a drink. As is typical of spontaneous outtings, we rounded up about eight people who wanted to come with us to the cafe across the street and two who actually did.

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Heather is an Australian, originally from Sydney, but imported (for ENSBA purposes) from Canberra, which is the capital (apparently). She spent about six months in Paris when she was 16, and her French is pretty good considering (though she has the mega-advantage of really really really enjoying speaking the language -- this allows someone to shamelessly make faults zipping through them into a much more successful linguistic competence). She's also spent some time backpacking around Europe and has some nifty anecdotes from Dublin (along with some depressing ones).

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Of the two we managed to talk into joining us, Kevin is also from Australia (Sydney born and bred), a bit older, working on his Master's, and Phoebe is light-hearted nymph from Hunter College (NYC, baby), who's participation in this program came about in the same assbackwards way mine did.

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Sobering up in the 40 degree breeze on my way home over the Seine and up to the hills of Chaumont, I had an episode of wanting to ring all of my friends in the states, which usually starts with Kim and goes on for the one or two phone numbers I can remember beyond that.

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The schedule for the week of orientation was kind of all over the place, having some days where we were supposed to show up for an hour or two, some where we were booked the whole day and one day where attendance was expected, but we more or less had to figure out in what capacity on our own. Wednesday morning we all met again in the conference room at 9h30 prepared to show our portfolios to department heads to find out what artist's atelier we should try to negotiate acceptance into. After about two and half hours of literally sitting there shaking, I sat with the head of the painting department and said, I like artists a, b and c, to which she replied, "Good choices."

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The one good thing that came out of being made to sit around, devising means of distracting myself from my jumping knees, was that I met Zach, a vegan with a lip-ring and a kind face brought in from Chicago but originally from just outside Lawrence, KA (I have had very good experiences with people from this part of the world). Super excited to see that vegans could exist in Europe (even though they were imported from elsewhere), I invited him and his girlfriend over for dinner Thursday night. I made curried eggplant which was f'ing delish (check the recipe below), though it was their gratitude that really made the dinner successful. Apparently it was the first meal they'd eaten in a week that wasn't bread and dip. It was an awesome experience for me because, well, vegges always need to watch out for each other, especially when abroad, and because I was grateful to be in a place this time where I could reach out and offer something simple but profound, in the same way Anja and others had done for Anna and me the last time I was here.

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After the meeting with the department heads, we were invited to a Pot d'accueil (welcome drink) in a narrow hallway where we steadied our nerves with some vino (and our growling stomachs with bread and cheese and coldcuts and fruit and couscous and cake). This was a rather fabulous scheduling move because a) it was 12h30 in the afternoon and b) we had a French placement exam less than two hours later (jeez). So after the better part of a bottle of wine each, we stumbled through various corridors, courtyards and stairways trying to find the exam room (successfully losing half the party in the process).

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[ The oral part of my exam translates roughly into :

Q : And why did you want to come to the school in Paris ?

A : Because I really like the school and I really like French and I'm an artist and you all make good art here and I enjoy speaking French and Paris is great, I mean, it's fun, it's fun to be here speaking French in France, I mean Paris, at this school ... making art.

Q : ....

A : Should I sit down now ? ]

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Because we had some time between the exam and when we were supposed to meet in the library for a tour, Heather and I came up with the brilliant (and original) idea of meeting in the cafe across the street for a beer (surprise, surprise). Obviously still profiting a bit from the lunchtime high, she snuck into the classroom and wrote diagonally across the dry-erase board way too much information about our plans for an impromptu exchange student rendez-vous across the street, so that a third of the people that left the exam to come meet us ended up getting confused, spending over an hour wandering around St. Germain-de-Près looking for the cafe, and finally deciding on return to their respective homes, missing the presentation of the library all together.

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As for myself -- well, you can blame it partly on the high from the alcohol, but mostly from the high of just being there in those buildings with their history and their energy. I ducked out of the library meeting and headed down the grand staircase to the Palais d'études -- a huge, open empty hall with colored tile floor, red walls, golden trim, fresco detailing, and a 50 foot high glass ceiling. I sauntered delicately back and forth alone, across this silent, open space, smelling four hundred years of faces and voices and stories mixed with the cool winter air. I tried to touch a sense of presence, bringing forward an appreciation for my life's journey thus far while allowing the space and openness for whatever experiences may come next. And yet, I thought of nothing. And I walked back and forth. And swayed with the imperceptible breeze. And moved my feet in whatever little dances they remembered from so many years ago. And I let go of everything, so that all that was left was peace.

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Curried Eggplant (yum yum)

When I made this Thursday I served it with lemon-garlic sauteed kale, rice (2/3 brown, shortgrain, 1/3 red bhutanese, though I've also done quinoa in the past) and cilantro-yogurt sauce (recipe below). Because I was making it for vegans, I substituted regular yogurt for a creamy, unsweetened soy one. We were lucky, too, because Maritza made fried plantains, which really brought everything together (this is the only thing we didn't end up having leftovers of -- recipe to follow in future entries).

With the eggplant, I like to start with slices (about 1" thick), sprinkle both sides with fine-grain sea salt and lay them out on a plate or cutting board, layered with paper towels and with a heavy pot (or stack of books) on top for 1-2 hours. This draws the moisture of the eggplant so that it's more tender and absorbs more of the flavor from the spices.

2 med-sized eggplants cut into cubes (or one big mama eggplant; skin on -- see headnotes)

2 med-sized red onions chopped

3 cloves garlic minced

1 can diced tomatoes, 14oz/400g (the fire-roasted ones can be really good as long as they're not done up with additives)

+ 2 med-sized fresh tomatoes, chopped

2 T. EV [oh oh] + extra as needed

1-2 T. yellow curry powder (I usually opt for mild curry then use the cayenne for the kick as it gives more control over the spice factor. If you're using paste, use less and add little by little)

1 tsp. ground coriander

1/2 tsp. ground cumin

1 tsp. ground cinnamon (please please please try to make sure it's fresh !)

1/4-1/2 tsp. cayenne powder

1/4 tsp. ground white pepper (if it's handy)

Fresh Black pepper and sea salt, to taste

juice of 1/2 a lemon (about 2 T.)

1 T. chopped fresh coriander (cilantro)

Over medium heat, heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet. Add onions and sautee until lightly brown. While the onions are doing their thing, season them with black and white pepper and a touch of salt (because the eggplant already has salt on it from before) and curry if you're using a paste. Making sure the pan's not too hot, add the garlic and sautee another minute just until the garlic becomes fragrant and almost slightly kinda looks like it might start to take on color (Dante wrote about garlic-burners in the sixth circle with the heretics). Add the eggplant, being mindful that you may need to add another 1-3 T olive oil because of its super absorbency.

Add the dry spices and continue sauteeing until the eggplant becomes a little less rubbery and takes on some color from the pan and the oil (unless of course the garlic is starting to take on color too quickly causing concern for its well-being, then add the tomatoes right away). After adding the lemon juice and tomatoes, fill the can about 1/2 way with H20 and throw that in, too. Keep adding water as the curry cooks so that it can simmer happily without burning or becoming too thick. As long as it's well hydrated you can cook the eggplant for 2-3 hours or longer, letting the flavors really stew together and allowing extra water boil off. Make sure to taste the curry, too, as you cook it -- the spices should come together to form a round, slightly sweet flavor profile (if it doesn't taste this way, a touch more cinnamon or cumin usually helps, but be sensitive to salt and curry levels, too).

Stirring frequently, allow the curry to simmer over low heat 1-2 hours or until eggplant is well cooked. Remove from heat. Taking an old fashioned potato masher magigger (or a coffee mug or small bowl), gently press the curry to help break down the forms of the veggies and create a slightly smoother melange (not that you're going for hummous here). Add the fresh cilantro and adjust consistency by adding some water or returning to heat to allow moisture to evaporate. Serve hot with grains (see headnotes) or potatoes and topped with yogurt sauce.

Cilantro Yogurt sauce :

Put two single serving yogurt (about 8 oz or 1 cup) in a med sized bowl. Drizzle with 2-3 tsp. EVOooo, a sprinkle of sea salt and about 1/4 tsp. lemon zest. Mix (or whisk) to bring ingredients together and lighten sauce. Bon appetit.