Watch Out Where the Huskies Go

What's funny about this picture?

2009-06-23T00:55:00.000-07:00

Kulinarische Leckerbissen samt Rheinblick und Ballon-Spektakel erwarteten die Besucher der Mittsommernacht am Wochenende.

This photo was on the front page of our local paper yesterday. The caption basically reads: Guests enjoy cultural treats while awaiting the Midsummer night on the weekend. I asked the 14 year old and a friend who he had over, what was funny about the photo. They each examined it carefully, but could find nothing. I gave them the answer: "It's a midsummer party and they're wearing jackets and scarves!" Oh, I hate you, German summer.

I Got A New Apron

2009-06-11T00:33:00.000-07:00

The parents went to Rome for three days. I filled in as "mom" while they were gone. When they came back, they had an apron for me. There was da Vinci's Vitruvian Man on it along with a number of other sketches and some fancy cursive letters scribbling "Rome" all over it. It was tacky. Then the mom showed me hers. It was Botticelli's La Venere. Her head was absent and her exposed breasts rested over the wearer's. The mom said, "I assumed I shouldn't give you this one because, you know, you're American...", and then she made the sort of face that one symbolizes by using this emoticon: :-/ . In my mind, she said, "Even though we've been living in the same house for nearly twelve months, I still think you must be a conservative American." The mom continued, "... but if you'd like to trade...." I interrupted her, "Yes! I'd love to trade!!" So now I have a boobalicious apron.

Garlicky Saffron Rice, Zucchini, and Broiled Tofu

2009-06-05T09:30:00.000-07:00

From Veganomicon. Sooooo yummy. I think broiled tofu is my new thang. I had this as a picinic dinner with a friend from Aachen who came to visit me here in Neuss. Thankfully, Neuss did not smell like the paper ass that it can sometimes assualt the olfactory sytem with on a perfectly lovely afternoon. We sat in a chilly park by a pond, ate, drank beer and chatted 'til the sun went down. I took him to the train station at 10:30 in the evening.

Den Haag

2009-06-02T03:17:00.001-07:00

Erin and I went to Den Haag in the Netherlands this weekend to visit our friend Frank. We was staying in this cool apartment (pictured right). Frank invited one of his Amsterdam friends along, Valentijn, who was named after Valentine's Day. Valentijn drove us to the beach on Sunday. On the way, Erin and I camped out in the back of his van and practiced our cat-like reflexes in avoiding being sighted by the police (politie) because his van was not the sort that was supposed to hold more than two passengers.

The sun was warm, the breeze was cool, and and the water was freezing. Erin, Valentijn and I swam while Frank laid his docile self out on the sand and "watched" after out things. The waves crashed against our bodies with an unexpected force that one should learn to expect. Erin shouted to me from a distance, "I can't stop screaming!" Suddenly, a wave hit me from behind and, surprised by its sting, I screamed. We stayed in the water 'til we were good and numb.

Oh yeah, the city was alright as well, although we didn't spend too much time out and about. We mostly hung out on the terrace and talked all night.

There Ain't Nothin' Wrong with Sweet Hot Sauce from a Bottle

2009-05-20T03:06:00.001-07:00

See? Alongside some broccoli, carrots, and crispy tofu, nothing can go wrong.

Potato Spinach Enchiladas

2009-05-20T02:35:00.000-07:00

A friend recently gave me her copy of Veganomicon. It feels strange to talk about the book as if it were mine. She's moving to England soon and she has to get rid of a lot of her things-- she doesn't want to spend a fortune on shipping things. I understand that she'd be ditching some of these things anyway, but still, it's hard to accept such nice things. Well, I'm taking her out to a nice all-vegetarian, organic restaurant in Düsseldorf soon. I hope that'll make up for a little bit of it.

I've been dying to get my hands on this book for a long time. I've been drooling at the food porn posts from this book on my vegan forum for ages. Of course there's the recipes that everyone seems to love, that everyone is trying, and have been made over and over again.

I've been wondering, "What will I make first? The Chickpea Cutlets? Vanilla Yogurt Pound Cake?"

In the photo section, I saw a heart-warming picture of Potato Kale Enchiladas and my heart was won.

I subsitituted kale for spinach and some way-too-expensive and "exotic" soft flour tacos for the corn tortillas that the recipe asks for. When I made them yesterday, I was a pretty underwhelmed. Today, I mixed the potatoes and spinach together, served everything at the right temperature, and got the wrap to the right level of sogginess-- then it reached my standards.

Dreams 2

2009-05-19T00:49:00.000-07:00

I dreamed that I was staying as a semi-permanent guest in my friend Frank's old flat. Everything was filthy as if we'd partied like frat boys the night before. Another friend of mine, Erin, and I were staying in one of the three bedrooms which would normally occupy one of the flat's three residents.

We woke up together to find this chaos. We were woken by a strange man who was short with brown, army-cut hair and too-tan skin who strolled into the room. It might've been his room, but I felt as if it were mine and I was embarassed on account of the mess. He walked back out again and Erin and I began to get ready.

I went to the bathroom for my morning pee. The bathroom was falling apart. The door didn't shut properly. One of Frank's friends came in the doorway in a manner that was both accidental and casual. I don't know which of Frank's friends it was-- they all look the same to mee: skinny, long hair, slanty-eyed, artsy, plaid shirts. He was in the doorway for a short time and then he left. I couldn't pee.

I heard someone else coming and I leaned forward on the seat and moved to shut the door. But the door, in its dilapidated state, fell off its hinges as I tried to swing it shut. Stirred by the commotion or perhaps with the original intent of peaking in, Freddie, one of the flat's residents, appeared in the doorway. In real life, I have a gigantic pathetic crush on this kid whom Frank and I have given the epithet of Cherub Cheeks. My emotions in my dream were not much different. Freddie started to speak to me, but I couldn't listen. I was on the toilet with naught but a T-shirt on and underpants down to my ankles. I couldn't pee, so I got up off the toilet.

Freddie and I were in the hallway. He was still speaking to me. I still couldn't listen-- I was thinking about my underwear. I was sure that I was wearing a thong and was horridly aware of my bare butt standing blatantly in the hallway. Then I remembered that I was wearing a sort of underwear that partially covered my tush and I relaxed a little. I tried to speak to him a little, but I couldnt remember many words in German. (Freddie doesn't speak English.)

Then Erin and I were still getting ready. She had a friend coming over that she knew from her German course. Erin was getting dressed and preparing a mixed tape for the guest on a machine that could've also been a toddler's playtoy. She sent me into the hallway to meet the guest because she was still not ready and she wanted the tape to be a surprise.

Erin's friend was a Pakistani or Indian woman and spoke in heavily accented German. We made small talk for a while until Erin called her in, speaking English. I wondered why the two of us hadn't started with English. Then I couldn't decide the language with which I should speak, flipping back and forth between the two. Then I woke up.

Dreams

2009-05-19T00:08:00.000-07:00

Preface: I read _The Old Man and the Sea_ yesterday.

I dreamed that there was a whale. A beached whale. He was the subject of my dream, although very little of the dream was relavent to him. There were three sets of people: those who desired to do something to the whale, a touist on an island in the sea nearby the beached whale, and some hikers nearby on the mainland, close to the sandbar on which the whale was beached.

My first goal was to warn the man on the island-- he was recieving a massage there and the whale, should it tip in the direction of the island, meant impending doom for him. To reach the island, I had to go through an underground mall. There, I ran into S. and his mother, but he had a different mother-- an American woman who I know through his Kindergarten. I followed them down an escalator and chatted with the mother while she bough S. a cookie. (The cookie purchase was in German, as were a few words taht I exchanged wtih S., for those interested.) I am even loquacious in my dreams.

I found the man on the island, but I'm not sure if he heeded my words. I could only see his head, which was blury, and he was lost in the ecstasy of the massage.

I moved on to the sandbar area where the whale was beached. There were some extreme activists there on a ship. What their intentions for the whale were, I'm not sure, but as for the people they ran into who were not part of the project-- I knew they had only malintent. I did not stay with the activists for long. I had to warn the hikers before they came upon the ship.

It was nearly too late for the hikers-- the acitivsts had spotted them. They may have killed one. We ran away into a barren land, taking a steady climb up a mountain.

I saw the whale one last time. The massive creature flipped itself into the water between the sand bar and the mainland. I am not sure if by this action he was able to save himself or not.

I continued to climb the great, barren mountain with the other hikers. There were many hikers travelling down the mountain. I believe we were the only ones travelling up, but this did not seem strange to me. My new companions knew many of the people who we came across.

One of my companions went to join another group of hikers. His marooning was sudden and by the time we noticed he was gone, it was too late to follow him-- the distance between our groups was rocky and great.

Lastly we lost another crew member. We found him finally. He'd strayed from the path and joined a group of construction workers. The other workers were young- either children or very young adults, I'm not sure. My companion, who like the others was about my age or slightly older, chose to join them and then we moved on.

Spartikus

2009-05-03T09:40:00.000-07:00

I went to see a ballet with a friend on Saturday evening. Per usual, neither of us knew much about what we were to see as we walked through the opera house doors. Having just arrived from Aachen, I turned my purse and my full-of-vegan-asian-goodies backpack in to the coat check. The checker gave me a funny look and proceeded to look around for a spot to hide it amoung the mink and Yves Saint Laurent coats of the 60+ crowd. I caught some grandparents eyeing my torn and filthy Converse shoes with disdain and I, in turn, eyed their sparkling cleavage.

My friend and I found our seats-- 9th row, not bad. She said, "I like the stage setting." Two identical, 20-foot-high, famous-looking, Romanesque sculptures stood at either side of the stage. I said, "I rather like the foot long cocks," because, due to the height (and nude-ness) of the statues, their penises were, as one might say, "larger than life." I thought a nearby grandparent glanced my way, but maybe that was because I was speaking English amoung a crowd of Germans. The backdrop was a scrim with a contemporary Roman sacrophagus printed on it, quite like one on today's featured wikipedia article.

The ballet opened with a slightly Eisenstein-esque dance. A group of women danced around each other. Their hair was covered entirely with black cloth and they wore long, flowing black dresses. They emphasized the space around themselves with big, sweeping movements of their arms in front, above, and to the side. A leg lift carried the mass of black cloth with it, leaving a noticable, sweeping expanse of space between each woman's leg. The dance concluded with the women circling around each other, stage center, and one of them emerging with a baby doll, wrapped in black cloth. They were then interupted by Trojan soldiers, who removed their robes to reveal costumes like those depicted in the picture above. The soldiers raped/ had sex with the women, and threw them into cages that had risen from the backstage floor.

The Trojan soldiers had a beautiful dance together. Every costume, aside from the mournful women who opened the ballet, revealed the dancer's abdomen, much to my pleasure. The soldiers had sharper, quicker movements. I particularly enjoyed a momement when all the soldiers did a hip shake from side to side.

There was a beautiful sort-of duet: two pairs of Spartan dancers; the first pair, white and dressed in black, the second, black and dressed in gold. The men lifted and twirled their partners around, making the audience forget about the laws of gravity and that one cannot actually glide across the floor as if on skates. The black male dancer danced with particular passion. I wondered then why it wasn't he who was chosen as the lead, which the white dancer apparently was. I suspected the black man had some Othello-like role to play.

At intermission, I said to my friend, "Well, I think there could've been more nudity, don't you?" We went outside to sit in the grass and drink a can of beer that she'd bought in the train station earlier.

In the second half, the Trojan soldiers appeared less and the Spartans more. The Spartans had a beautiful, magnum-opus scene wherein the groups of men and women danced across the stage, running, leaping, pirouetting, and sashéing (i can't spell that for the life of me, but hopefully we all know what i'm talking about) across the back of the stage at speeds a sprinter would be jealous of. During this scene, a group of Trojans costumed differently than the ones we'd seen before, ran across the stage.

ok, i meant to finish this ages ago and do the discriptions some better justice. still, i think the bit i have is worth sharing until i get around to finish my description of the end, fuzzy though the memory of it is.

Don't you miss...?

2009-05-03T08:58:00.000-07:00

I get a lot of the same questions when people find out I'm vegan. One of them is, "But don't you miss x? I simply couldn't live without x." In the secret, dark, vegan closet, I might miss x a little bit, but I know that I have a severe allergy... to oppresion, so I rarely ever think about consuming x.

A few months ago, my friend Timo picked up a can of mock abalone from a sketchy asian shop.
"What's that?", I asked him.
"I dunno," he answered. "Let's try it."
We made a stir fry with the gluten-ous vegetarian meat and it was delicious. After dinner, a quick wikipedia search revealed that abalone is some kind of shell fish.

I found another can of abalone at the aforementioned sketchy shop yesterday, only this time it's a curry version. It was next to cans of mock duck and mock chicken. And then the mock abalone.... It makes you sardonically wonder, "Oh, cool! Mock abalone! I've been wondering when they'd create a substitute for this!"

I made a curry with it for lunch today (and heated it up again for dinner). It was delicous.

One of Us

2009-04-30T04:50:00.000-07:00

It is occasionally, and painfully, made apparent that no matter how much I fake it, I will never make it to true "German" status. No matter how much cool slang I learn, I will always have an accent. No matter how good my grammar gets, my vocabulary will always lack. And no matter how long I've lived here, I will never get used to the German ways.

I was feeling particularly glum yesterday, so I decided that instead of my normal outdoor excersise (cheap), I would shell out the €4.20 and go for a swim.

I rode my bike to the pool, paid for a two hour pass, ran my ticket through the electronic thingamajig, and passed through the turnstile. I get a kick out of German pools. Like a normal German household, they feel very sterile. And like the normal, European non-chalance towards gender seperation, there aren't seperate rooms for the girls and the boys. Instead, there are individual booths that one enters, changes, then a locker area where everyone puts there clothes. The showers and toilets, however, are gender-specific.

One would think that for all the regulations and order that one sees on the Autobahn (the famous, no-speed-limit, German highway), Germans could apply some of that organization to the pool; to circle swimming, for instance. When I walked onto the deck, I scanned for a lane with the least number of people. The first two lanes had lanelines and there appeared to be some sort of a team practice going on there. The other three or four lanes had no lanelines and a plethera of patrons making a free-for-all up and down the length of the pool.

I tried my best to assert myself in my chosen spot. I made my way down the pool with the black line of tiles on my left side, and back to the other end with the black line remaining on my left side. Despite my efforts to subtly demonstrate the efficiency of the circle swim, nobody else appeared to follow. There were people who stuck to their own invented line, others swam old-lady-style, in pairs, side-by-side. I gave up after only about 40 minutes and maybe 800 meters of swimming. It felt like €4.20 gone to waste.

But that's not all! When I was exiting the pool area, I had to insert my ticket into the electronic thingamajig. The disorganized person that I am, I couldn't find the bloody thing. After some fretting and looking through pockets where I doubted it was, I noticed that there was nobody manning the counter, so I decided to slip under the turnstile. Just then, someone came around and spoted my misdemenour. Frustrated by the circle swim, I said, "Look, you remember me. I'm the foreigner who came through an hour ago. I can't find my stupid ticket and I'm leaving now." Although she said, "I see so many faces in a day, how can I remember them all?", I adjusted the pack on my back and walked out the door.

pictured: grilled eggplant with oregano and thyme; one of my current kicks.

Not for All My Little Words

2009-04-22T10:12:00.001-07:00

I'm sitting outside in the sun, with an Earl Grey tea and an old copy of The New Yorker. I'd like to go for a bike ride along one of the Rhein River's many tributaries. I'd like to call up a friend and invite him/her out to play frisbee or for dinner, coffee, or beer.

But instead I'm waiting. S. is due to return from a playdate at any time and I told W., the boys' father, that S.'s bike was still in front of the Kindergarten. Although it should be presumed that S.'s bike needs to be fetched via car whenever S. has this weekly playdate, his parents need reminding and I'm obliged to do so. I'm afraid to remind W. to be sure that someone is home when his son returns (he has forgotten before), so I'm waiting until he runs this short errand before I leave this sunny terrace.

There's a good chance that W. will forget to pick up the bike, in which case the task will be left to me.

S.'s mother, K., told me the other evening, "You need to remind one of us about S.'s bike before we leave from work. And if one of us can't get it, you can pick it up, right? It's only.... What? Half an hour?"

It would be a good forty-five minute walk, I knew, and half of that time would be spent hunched over, making awkward steps, holding the handlebars while also avoiding clipping the backs of my heels against the tiny peddles.

"Yeah, no problem." I said, doing my best to fake non-chalance.

I could have said "No." To any other employer, I would have said that walking a child's bike home is not a stipulated as one of my duties, but if he/she would like, I may be paid extra for the task. But this is the plight of the aupair. I am paid to be available for them. I am given food, drink, and a warm place to sleep. I am indentured to their needs and generosity.

Now that S. is home and my tea has been drunk, I think I'll walk to the Kindergarten and pick up his bike now. I don't have any money to go out with a friend, anyway.

As you may've noticed, I've decided to change everyone's names. The internet is a big, potentially scary place and I don't want anyone to get hurt by what I say about them.

Etiquette

2009-04-19T08:06:00.000-07:00

Just as some cannot grasp calculus or trigonometry, so hault others in their apptitude for other languages. Some can go through the motions with relative ease, others get stuck on minor problems. Some lack confidence and fumble with the concepts before they've barely begun. And then there are teachers.... Some can present concepts and give clear explanation, some can even correct and encourage.

I met my Sascha at the train station on Thursday. In Germany, one can't help but greet another person with the friendly and simple, "Wie geht's?"-- How're you? Our conversation started in German and that was how it stuck.

We made a pizza from scratch. Sascha handled the dough. He'd made a pizza from scratch before and that impressed me. He's still a young student and I found his prestige in home economics both charming and impressive. He also didn't mind that I topped the pizza with basil tofu ricotta (Vegan with a Vengeance).

Sascha is a native of Düsseldorf. That being so, I supplied him with alt beer. Alt is a dark, bitter lager, produced only in the Düsseldorf region. We each drank an alt with our pizza, then we decided to go for a bike ride. I brought two alts for the road.

On our bike ride, I began to wonder, "When will we switch back to English? Is it a pain or is it impolite to stick to German? Am I succeeding at communication so far?" I assured myself that all was fine, but my insecurities remained.

We took a break, sitting on a high wall that overlooked the Rhein. I pulled out the beer and we "prosted," the German way of saying "cheers," but unpretentious and more conversational. While sitting on the wall, watching the Rhein swim by us, we chatted about nothing and everything. The subject that had been nagging me arose: How sufficient was my German?

"You think more than you used to," Sascha remarked. "You used to just talk; say whatever came to you whether it was [grammatically] wrong or not."

I could see some truth in that statement. I never did find out how adequate my vocabulary and grammar was. It had to've sufficed. We conversed, explained our pleasures and our troubles.... But I was still thinking about every sentence, wondering if it was good enough.

pictured: me and Timo in Berlin; a cartoon depicting the Cologne-Düsseldorf rivaly. it says: How Kölsch is brewed

Berlin

2009-04-15T09:19:00.001-07:00

I finally visited Berlin this past weekend. I uploaded lots of photos to a Picassa page. You can see them here.

Pineapple Right Side Up Cupcakes

2009-04-15T07:40:00.001-07:00

A friend hosted a BBQ the other night. I made myself kabobs of fake shrimp and mushrooms slathered in BBQ sauce. It was awesome. I also brought along vegan desserts in an effort to introduce the beer-can-stuffed-chicken-eating omnis to my morally and environmentally conscious ways. I seduced them with these cupcakes. Everyone loved them. Someone said that they looked like boobs.

International Pillow Fight Day

2009-04-06T00:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there are wonderful things, people, events that are just so beautiful that you don't want to put them into words; they won't do your subject justice. Like Sewanee, like summer camp, like the adorable quirks of your lover, like your new favorite sound.... Some things are better left unsaid. But, at the same time, you feel compelled to share it, and if you're lucky, your listener will understand and they'll give you a sweet smile and share a piece of your heart for a little while.

I noticed this meeting on Cologne's Couch Surfing group page: International Pillow Fight Day. The second anual world-wide pillow fight on the fourth day of the fourth month of the year at four PM. The event organizer said that we'd meet in front of the Dom (“Fuck the police,” were the words that followed that statement.), everyone was to bring his or her own (soft) pillow, and at we would fight everyone and anyone who also held a pillow when then clock struck four. I thought I'd participate. The more the merrier, right?

I checked the event page before I left for Cologne. Someone noted that over a hundred people had signed up to the event on StudiVZ, the German equivalent of Facebook. I thought, “Oh cool. It'll be more than just a few dozen Couch Surfers.”

When I got out at the Cologne train station at a quarter to four, I noticed lots of young kids with pillows. Lots. Hundreds. I saw people toting bulging backpacks, grocery bags, and purses; all of them making their way to the same place. I was filled with gleeful anticipation. I walked to the Domplatz in hopes of spotting some Couch Surfers whom I knew.

The Domplatz was absolutely filled with people! I saw the camera crews of WDR and RTL, the two main television stations in Germany, filming the crowd, asking people questions. I called some friends of mine from my cell phone, asking if they were there. They said that they were in front of the Dom. “You and a thousand other people,” I replied. “Wave your pillow in the air so I can see you.”

I found them, this group of Düsseldorf Couch Surfers. We talked and kept glancing anxiously at our watches. The fight was due to start any minute. I wondered how it would begin. I worried that it would be like a New Year's party where several people are arguing about who's watch is correct as midnight approaches and leaves. Suddenly, a shout rang out in the crowd and, all at once, everyone was swinging their pillows every which way.

here are a few videos of the pillow fight. i couldn't choose which to post.

As I was slamming a hit against someone's back, I noticed that it looked familiar. It was Ulf, my very first Couch Surfing host. He turned around to hit me back, “Oh hi! How're you?”, he asked, landing a blow to my shoulder. “Good to see you here!”, I answered, hitting him on top of the head. I found two more Cologne Couch Surfers like that and then some friends from Bonn. It was hysterical. We laughed and hit and ducked until we were so winded that we could hardly go on, but then someone would swing at us and we had to hit them back; it was part of the game.

Pillows broke open and feathers flew everywhere. We squinted our eyes against the avian snow and battled on. I paired up with a girlfriend against two of the boys. Someone joined in to help and then we were a ring of people. Some found themselves in the middle of the cushioned violence. It was like a mosh pit, but the good kind.

After the fight, I suggested to our group, which had grown throughout the fight, that we walk down to the Rhein to drink beer and play frisbee. We stayed out there, having fun in the park, until it got too dark to see.

Who even knows what bird shit smells like?

2009-04-01T03:38:00.000-07:00

I keep telling myself that I need to blog, but I have no desire to write for it lately. It's not that I don't like the blog or that I have nothing to write about; there's just something in there that's getting lost in between, through the transient thoughts.

But it is important to keep all you lovely people, living on contienent far far away, updated on my life (when you care to care). So, here you go:

I've been in Aachen a lot lately, just catching up with the numbers of people who are too numerous to catch up with. I went to Carlos Themen, a thermal spa in Aachen, a few weeks ago. That was really nice and I've been meaning to blog about that.

Simon has been saying some hilarious things lately. Yesterday while we were watching television in the evening, waiting for his mom to come home from tennis and put him to bed, he told his 13 year old brother that he smelled like bird shit. His brother and I burst out laughing because: 1) Simon said "shit," 2) He's never said "shit" before, 3) How did "bird shit" even pop into his head?, and 4) Who even knows what bird shit smells like? Through my giggles, I managed to tell him that "shit" (okay, it was "Scheiße") was not a nice word to use.

Simon has also started using his "please"s and "thank you"s that I've been trying to enforce for the past two months or so. Yay positive reinforcement!

I'm going to Berlin (finally) next week-end! I'm road-tripping it with two friends and will also be seeing another friend who recently moved there from Cologne. Hopefully there will be lots of pictures and other stuff to share.

At the end of the month, I'll be helping a friend move to Amsterdam. It's a very bittersweet sort-of goodbye. He's been kind enough to invite myself and another friend to spend a long weekend up there in his new appartment, which is about the size of a thimble.

All this inactivity has allowed me to save up for these big trips. I'm really looking forward to it!

I will do my best to post pictures in this post later.

Zen and the Art of Frisbee Throwing

2009-03-23T00:35:00.000-07:00

I played a good round of frisbee for the first time in ages yesterday. The first throw was way out there. The next, a little closer. We found the right speeds and angles at which to throw. The old muscle memory started to come back.

I played with a buddy in a park in Oberkassel, the über-snooty part of Düsseldorf. There's lots of homes for the people of opulant lifestyles; early 20th century architecture; columns, window sills, and doorways richly adorned as if draped with plastered lace and garland.

Springtime is begining. We played until 7PM, but I wasn't watching a clock. I saw the sky and I felt my arm tiring and said, "5 catches in a row, then we stop." Our concentration, which had been gradually declining, suddenly came back. We threw 5 catches in a row, then I said, "We play until one of us drops it." I smiled wide as I watched one toss float into my partner's hand. He laughed. We completed 10 or 20 more tosses until the frisbee flew over my head and I let it drop.

I knew the park from a time this winter when I decided to explore Oberkassel. It's quiet and open. A place for runners, dog-walkers and the occasional badmitten players. When I walked through there on that winter day, it was snowing; lightly, but constantly. I thought of a line from Bukowski's Ham On Rye: "The air was white." The air then... it was white.

When my friend and I packed up to go, the sun was setting, the clouds changing from their brilliant white against a backdrop of blue, to hues of red against a backdrop of purple, fading to black.

Saturday

2009-03-16T03:35:00.000-07:00

I woke up at 1 in the afternoon, shamelessly. As I've mentioned before, my family eats breakfast together at 10AM on weekends. It's a cute, healthy habit, in my opinion. Well, at 1PM, I had my Brötchen and then I made muffins. Chocolate Chip Zucchini Muffins, to be precise. Why aren't they simply called cupcakes, you ask? Because there's zucchini in them and that makes them healthy, duh! I made them for a “girls' night in” that I was invited to that evening.

The “girls' night in” was hosted by my vegan friend in Krefeld. That girl is awesome for a good many reasons, but one of them is that we have the same taste buds. We do vegan stuff together sometimes like eat out at veg-friendly places and visit organic grocery stores and we almost always end up getting the same things. When I asked what she felt like cooking on Saturday, she said, “Something Italian themed from Vegan with a Vengeance.” I said, “Stuffed shells?” She agreed. I'd been wanting to make stuffed shells for ages, but didn't want to make them for myself alone. I'm not kidding; there has got to be some vegan-psychic shit goin' on there.

After I finished making the zucchini “muffins,” it was getting time for me to head out. I checked the train times and then left the house with plenty of time to spare so I could buy the pasta shells and basil (for the basil tofu ricotta à la VwaV). I bagged up most of the muffins (leaving a few for my host fam, if they so chose) and took to the road.

Here's the part with an unexpected tangent:

I felt like such a foreigner that day! I didn't realize that specialized shops like organic grocery stores (don't think American-sized, think country-cottage-sized) and health food stores closed at 3PM on Saturdays! I'd seen a package of whole wheat pasta shells at a big organic grocery store in Düsseldorf earlier that week and assumed that I could find the same or similar in one of the smaller shops in Neuss. I never got to find out.

Instead, I opted for lasagna noodles. I feared that the girls would be disappointed in the menu change, but they were fine with it. My friend and host sliced some vegan cheese on top and left the sides sauce-free, making them a little crunchy. Our dinner was delectable. The muffins, though, ended up getting crushed in my bag. I'd meant well, I really did. We were going to eat them anyway with some vegan ice cream, but we got distracted by wine and Black Books. I consciously left the bag of bruised and beaten muffs in her kitchen upon my departure so I wouldn't have to deal with them myself. There are worse weights to leave on friends' shoulders.

p.s. my camera isn't uploading photos right now. i'll post a photo of the zucc muffs later.

Springtime for Hitler in Germany!

2009-03-14T06:34:00.000-07:00

I've gotten on this blog-reading kick. I've always stalked them, looking for ideas for astounding dishes that I can make for myself, but lately I started reading them for their stories. These aren't people that I know. I don't even know what they look like. They might be ugly and terrible, but mostly I imagine them as like-minded beings who would probably read my blog if they'd heard of it. But they probably wouldn't.

This was the third photo that appeared when I google image searched "springtime." I want to get a nice photo of the crocuses and daffodils that are just begining to bloom, but until I do, y'all'll have to deal with this junk.

Sweet Potato Red Lentil Soup

2009-03-13T05:15:00.000-07:00

In Aachen over the weekend I had a nice red lentil soup at a Turkish restaurant. They were so nice at the Turkish place. We were surprised (although one should expect) to not recieve the normal German customer service. Par example, you order a tea, you get it, but there's no sugar. You like sugar with your tea, so you ask your waiter (screw that "server" PC crap) if he could get you some sugar as well. And the waiter complains about making the extra run for you - in front of you! Sheesh!

So the soup at the Turkish place was really good and I felt like re-creating it. I ended up creating something really different that tastes good too. The spicyness of the cayenne pepper accentuates the sweetness of the sweet potato and it's nice and rich with the help of the red lentils.

Sweet Potato Red Lentil Soup (serves 2 or 1 hungry person)
1/4C red lentils
1/8C onion (half a pretty small onion. maybe 1 shallot)
1/2 large sweet potato or 1 small sweet potato peeled and chopped into 1in cubes
2C water
1/2t oregano
1t basil
1/4t cumin
1/4t cayenne pepper (some like it hot!)
1t (heaping) veg bouillon
salt and pepper to taste

In a stock pot, fry onions in olive or veg oil. after a minute or two, add herbs. after onions begin to brown/ are soft, add water, lentils, sweet potato and veg bouillon and bring to a boil. I actually cooked my sweet potato in the microwave before and added it once the lentils were soft (about 10min). that worked fine. serve warm or save it for the next day, when it'll be even better!

Marble Cupcakes

2009-03-13T04:36:00.000-07:00

There was all this CAKE floating around on Simon's Bday weekend. It kinda made me want a girl with a short skirt and a looooonng jacket, but instead I made my own cupcakes.

Germans like their cake dry. I'll never forget the first time I cut into a German bday cake. I thought that someone fucked up the cake mix from the box. When I cut into it, I had to push down really hard. I asked, "ummm... the cake feels a little... solid," to which someone replied, "It seems alright to me."

The recipe is from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World. They're good, but not that orgastic, mouth-bursting deliciousness that a lot of those cupcake recipes offer. I wished that my host fam would try some (I made 4), but I guess there was still leftover cake and they'd eaten pretty crappy over the weekend and didn't care to try one. More for me!

Simon's Birthday

2009-03-06T01:47:00.000-08:00

Today is Simon's birthday. His is now 6. 6! They grow up so fast! Yesterday, he and his mom baked a big sheet cake and covered it with green frosting and gummy bears: a soccer game. I'll include a photo of it later.

Simon's shoes are getting old. I told him the other day, "Simon, you shouldn't wear those shoes anymore. They have holes in them." And he replied, "But when they have holes, I can tell if my socks are wet." That is beautiful reasoning for two reasons: 1. It makes no sense. 2. It makes perfect sense to Simon.

Simon's mother was looking through a catalogue for a table and set of chairs for our new roof deck. They need to be heavier than the ones that we currently have so they don't blow away in the wind. She pointed one set out to Simon and asked if he liked it. "It only has four chairs," he said. "We'll need another one for Rachel." Now ain't he sweet?

The Brig

2009-03-02T02:11:00.000-08:00

I went to see this play last Thursday with my amazing friend, Steffi. The company that she works for can get her free tickets to lots of events in Düsseldorf - and there's a lot of events! Being the sweet girl that she is, she takes me to the not-so-germanic items up for show.

Per usual, we walked into the play not knowing a thing about it. That's generally how I role with these sorts of things. I rarely read the back of a book before I start reading it, seldom check out movie reviews before I watch them.... I prefer making my own first impression and then, if I remain interested, to see what other people's impressions were later (i.e. reviews, etc.).

The play ended up being about as I'd guessed it by seeing the posters and reading a spare few sentences on the back of a pamphlet: American army men and their time in an American army "prison," probably as punishment for some misdemeanor, but we never learn why any of the characters are there. In fact, one could say that we don't learn anything about the characters at all. The play takes almost all individuality away from the characters - we see only guards and prisoners. The prisoners themselves are called by number, not name, and I believe that the guards are refered to by their ranking, but I can't quite remember. One might ask, "A play with no character development? How could that have been a story at all?" But it did have a begining, a middle and an end; of that I am sure, so that makes it a story.

The play was written in something like 1947, so I can see how at the time, it must've been extremely avant garde. I think that the social commentary is just as relevant, only now we're familiar with the genre of media into which The Brig falls. We've all already read 1984 and we've seen Schindler's List and Angels in America. When I encounter pieces like The Brig, I have to make a concious effort to remind myself that it was something special in its time. For that, I respect the play, but then we come to aesthetics - what one finds pleasing to oneself - and for me, The Brig wudn't really my thang.

I Welcome You to March with Bog Water

2009-03-01T05:26:00.000-08:00

Just joking - it's curried split pea soup from Vegan With a Vengance. This would've been a great opportunity to finally use up my €0.99 bag of dried peas, but the other day I was adding peas to a marvelous salad and I forgot to return the bag to the freezer. The peas thawed. I thought it would be bad to re-freeze them, so I made this soup with the poor little guys instead. To make the pea soup more split-y, I stuck my immersion blender in at the end and gave it a couple spins.

The soup is very simple, a real no-brainer, but it isn't quite up to Isa standards, which are high. Then again, I don't have the best ingredients on hand. (read: I don't have very many spices in my cabinet and those that I possess are not of the highest quality.)

So now I can say that today I: made soup, took a photo of it, and posted it on the internet. Yay productivity!

p.s. February was a bad blogging month, but I promise you that March will be much better.

Sweedisch NotMeatBalls

2009-02-27T04:13:00.000-08:00

I got these ballz from the swell vegan blog. I've no idea what sweedish meetballs taste like. These weren't bursting with flavor and were also a bit more crumbly than I'd hoped. They did feel very hearty, though, and I enjoy the chance to eat something like that occasionally. I found that these babies tasted best when I mashed them up with my home-made tomato sauce in the spaghetti. That made it taste like spaghetti bolognese, even though I don't know what that tastes like either.

Even if you aren't vegan, I'd recommend these balls as a high-protein, low-colesterol alternative to their meaty counterpart.

Randomly-Assembled Tomato Sauce
1 tomato, peeled and chopped
1.5C cremini mushrooms, sliced
1 medium onion, diced
2 cloves garlic
1 package tomato purée (maybe 1.5-2 cups worth?)
2t dried basil
1-2t dried oregano
1t cumin
1t salt
few shakes black pepper

onions in a stock pot 'till they're a little bit soft and aromatic( 3-5min), then add garlic, spices and herbs. stir occasionally until onions brown. add mushrooms and tomato and really let that cook down (as long as 10min, on simmering heat and covered). once cooked down, add the tomato purée and bring it to a steady boil. take off heat. blend with an immersion mixer. if you don't have an immersion mixer, your life is just less good. add some water if you think it's too thick. The mushrooms make this nice and rich and really good.

Broccoli Leek Soup

2009-02-18T03:25:00.000-08:00

There was a head of broccoli that I had to use up, so I made soup with it. The soup contained:

1 head broccoli
1 leek
~2 cups veg broth
1 container Alpro soy cream (blach I know! so unhealthy! can't win 'em all, can you?)
2 small cloves garlic
dash thyme
dash basil

I also threw in some lentils that I wanted out of the cabinet.
It's good with celery and maybe I'll hit it up with some roasted red pepper coulis tomorrow.

Here's some William Blake to inspire you:
A truth that's told with bad intent,
Beats all the lies you can invent.

That quote preceded a chapter in The Amber Spyglass, which I was reading today. I'm not cool enough to come up with Blake on my own.

Pot Pie!

2009-02-13T10:52:00.000-08:00

I made veggie pot pie today! It was good. Well, the creamy veggie part was. In it is: carrot, potato, celery, peas, tofu and a bit o' garlic and other spices. I dumped some Alpro soy cream stuff in after I'd cooked the veggies. I accidentally added too much baking soda to my crust, though, and it turned out nasty. really nasty. How does one do that, anyway? I'm just an idiot. To the right are the pot pies uncovered.

I didn't measure or nothin' but Vegan Dad has two pot pie recipes.

Mediocrity Is Not Okay

2009-02-09T07:47:00.000-08:00

As I've formerly admitted, I don't know shit about art, but I do know that there are some things that I dig and some things that I don't. I do like it when I feel that a painting, photograh, series, exhibition or whatever inspire some thought on my part, when it requires some introspection.

I went to visit an exhibition of Michel Comte photographs at the NRW Forum in Düsseldorf with an aquaintance over the week-end. I didn't know anything about the photographer nor do I really understand the art of (behind?) photography, but my companion told me that he generally enjoyed that sort of thing and additionally included that he was a bit picky with what he chose to view. I walked into the exhibition open-minded, thinking, "Cool. Ima gonna learn me sommat."

It was the biggest load of bull shit that I've ever laid my eyes on. It reminded me of a visit to McDonald's that I recently made. I never walk into that place willingly (unless I'm making use of their commode), but some friends of mine wanted to get some food there. I didn't order anything, so I just stood there, patiently waiting for my friends to order, examaning my surroundings. I'm perpetually repulsed by what that place means to our society- the people who go there, work there, where the food comes from, the abhorrant success of the corporation, what it does to people.... When my buddies were sitting around, one of them noticed that I had on a particular facial expression; she said, "Rachel! You've got such a sad face on!" I wasn't aware of it and made up a quick lie because I didn't want to tell them that I was disgusted with the act they were engaging in.

That trip to McDonald's was sort of like my trip to the museum, except I did tell the person in my company my actual thoughts and... I guess he disagreed. So I guess the dispute might go like:
"How can you eat this crap?"
"Because I like it. It does something for me."
"Well you're wrong and if we all realized this, the world would be a little bit better for it."
"What's so bad about it?"

It's true that the exhibition and/or McDonald's says something to some of the viewers, gives the visitors some nutrition. We're all entitled to our own opinions, but, in my opinion, some of them are wrong. (winkey face?)

The photos come from the exhibition's flickr page.

Der Medienhafen

2009-02-04T00:22:00.000-08:00

I've got no hope of formating this post properly. I'm not even sure if "formating" is the correct word. Well anyway, this morning I'm going to meet a friend in Düsseldorf just to waste some time together and I figured I might persuade her to walk around the Medienhafen (media harbor) with me. That's what all these pictures are from, der Medienhafen. Either me or Dad took these photos way back in August, when he visited.

The brick building on the top left as well as the shiny metal building, in front of which Dad stands, are the Gehry buildings.

This area is a super chic part of the city. Some of the buildings areappartments, some are offices (and there are many office buildings in the area that are not pictured, including my host father's), and there are a few expensive restaurants and bars. Apparently there's a stand where you can get currywurst with a gold leaf on top. They do charge for the gold.

I've read in a guide book before that there's some sort of classy cult nightlife culture out there. I have not personally seen hide nor tail of this and seriously doubt the existance of any kind of "famed" parties. I think that the Düsseldorfers are too dull for that.

When was the last time you had a beach bonfire?

2009-01-29T06:13:00.000-08:00

An Aussie friend of mine asked us to celebrate Australia Day with him last Sunday. I hear that parts of Australia are experiencing temperatures of over 100 degrees fahrenheit right now; for us, it was quite the contrary, but we did our best to pretend it wasn't so and I think we pulled off a darn good effort! I brought a frisbee- one of my favorite fake sports- and got to toss it around with some folks. Some other kids made a make-shift cricket set and had a ball with that. We had it on a beach along the Rhein and made a big bonfire that lasted several hours and kept us fairly warm if we stood close around it like penguins. It was a really fun, cool, international crowd.

This Is What I Did Today

2009-01-27T07:32:00.000-08:00

Look at my amazing artistic talent! I printed the posters off the internet and Simon and his friend coloured in the outlines that I'd made. They're talking about how the Pokémon that they're colouring will battle and defeat and destroy the other's. Yay internet!

Cookie Monster Eats Broccoli Now

2009-01-24T05:08:00.001-08:00

I was invited to a party in Cologne for this evening. The girlfriend I'm going with suggested I make some stuff for it. I made chocolate chip cookies, recipe compliments of Isa Chandra Moskowitz. I shared them with friends last night and we decided they were probably the best cookies ever made.

This morning, I thought I'd make an extra half batch to bring a good ol' American quantity, or, you know, just a bloody plethera. I'm leaving some for the host fam because they agreed that they were insanely good.

I also made hummus for the party. I never follow any instructions on the grounds of hummus-making. I just pour in the basic ingredients, eye-balling the measurements, and flavour it to my fancy. Only problem is, I'm never sure if my tastes are similar to others'. Does everyone have a secret fondness for garlic? Is carrot-dill actually a good flavour combination? Stay tuned for the results (or aftermath) next week.

Isn't it very sad that Cookie Monster is now the Broccoli Monster? Do you think that Obama could change that?

Get Lost in the Supermaket

2009-01-22T08:30:00.000-08:00

For those of you that know me, you know that I hate shopping. I hate the crowds, the music, picking through the worthless with a faint hope of finding something sensible, but mostly I abhor the consumerist bullshit that everyone buys into. You might be surprised to find out, however, that I love going to the supermarket. I like going to all the different stores in search of superior prices and particular products.

When I first moved to Germany, you can't imagine how out-of-place I felt in every one of these stores. They felt so small, unorganized, and jam-packed full of products both new and foreign, but all in a package with which I was unaquainted. It felt a little strained and uncomfortable, but I did enjoy the exoticism, the nuance. In my first months, I especially relished a chance to visit one of the bigger emporiums - like Real, for example. Although I've always hated The-Store-That-Must-Not-Be-Named, the high ceilings and knowledge that I could get all my little, random items all under one roof (veganism leaves you looking in strange corners for prized products), gave me a feeling of comfort. Ah, neophobia.

You may not be a foodie or a vegan and you may not live in Germany, so I wanted to give you a way to relate to all the different markets. I thought it'd be funny if we did this in metaphor. Would The Clash approve it if we spoke of boyfriends instead of getting lost in talking about just plain old supermarkets?

Aldi is the boyfriend that thinks an awesome date is sitting out on a lake with a pair of 40s. Sometimes they have specials in there that I'm pleasantly surprised by: asian or italian.

Edeka I'm often surprised to find myself in. It's usually for urgancy or at the insistance or request of my host family. It's the boyfriend who buys (and drinks) some fancy scotch or Jack Daniel's. In addition, he finds it vital to keep Coke and ice in good stock as well. He wears Lacoste and Abercrombie & Fitch (I once read a book about the latter clothing outlet.) or some fancy vintage things for which he paid more money than they're worth. REWE and Kaiser's are like this, but usually a bit smaller and located closer to the city center.

Plus seems to fit a pleasant medium. This boyfriend drives a Jeep, but it's kinda old, beat up, and covered in mud, but it doesn't matter that much because it does it's job, right? He keeps a Lowe Alpine backpack because he knows it's good, but it smells like butt from his last extensive camping trip. I think that Norma may be like this. They're found in smaller towns, I think. Norma can be the punk boyfriend that wears Vans.

Real. "Ein mal hin, alles drin," or, "One time in, everything in." I never go to this store. It's usually on the outskirts of a city because it's so big. This is like the boy that I don't believe I've ever dated. I'd say it's unremarkable, but it does fulfill all most everyone's needs.

Delhaize is a Belgian store that may just be an Aachen thing because that city lies on the border of Belgium and Holland. Delhaize is like the European foreign exchange student. It feels a little fancy, but mostly because there's different products there.

Simon on the Subject of Marriage + Other Philosophies

2009-01-21T06:20:00.000-08:00

Simon has decided that he'd like to marry a girl in his class. The decision sparked a number of ideas in this 5 year old's head....
"Rachah," (that's how he says my name) "are you married?" In German, though, this question is so much better. It's: Hast du ein Mann? or: Do you have a man?
"No," I replied, somewhat tentatively.
"Then you won't ever be rich."
"Why do I need a man to be rich?" I asked.
"Because men go to work and make money."
"What about Mommy?" I asked. "Mommy goes to work and makes money."
"I know," he answered. "She's going to give me all her money when she dies so that I can be rich and get married."
His mother piped in, "You know, that's going to take a while, Simon."
"That's okay," he told her.

Lukas (the 13year old) and I had a conversation about talent the other day. Lukas is quite good at football. He plays for the regional team. He thinks, though, that his exceptional abilities have nothing to do with talent. He says that he likes playing football because he's good at it. "What about people who pursue goals, activities, or whatever that they enjoy even though they're not good at them?", I asked him. "Then they shouldn't pursue them," he answered. I laughed.

Question: Should I be more careful about revealing identies here on the internets? I read some blogs where the folks are totally anal-retentive about revealing identities of their loved ones. Am I doing anything wrong?

Don't You Eat That Yellow Snow!

2009-01-21T06:05:00.000-08:00

It snowed a few weeks ago. It stuck around 'till about a week ago. And I can't believe that I missed a chance to reference the song after which this blog is named! This is the first time that I've lived in a city (which I guess Neuss is, but it still feels a little silly refering to it as such) that got a lot of snow. In Wisconsin, I lived on a campus, so no dogs. In Tennessee, there were pleanty enough paths to not run into concentrated patches of wizz. In Aachen, well, I guess I lived in Belgium when there was snow; I didn't walk through the Aachen city parks so much then. Here in Neuss, though, I had the FZ song stuck in my head pretty much contantly while the land was blanketed in white. It wasn't pretty. And then, it was.

Important Days for Americans to Note

2009-01-20T09:02:00.000-08:00

I think that there was something going on in the homeland both yesterday and today, but I'm not gonna pretend to know what.

Me and my buddies having fun with glow sticks for no particular reason.

Spicy Chick-Wheat Savory Muffins

2009-01-15T04:36:00.001-08:00

I'm not tremendously proud of this photo. It's supposed to look waaaay cooler. But those are cowboy cupcake liners. That's gotta count for somethin'.

This recipe is from havecakewilltravel. I deterred from the recipe a little bit. Firstly, by adding flax seeds to the liquid mixture because I didn't see anything in the list of ingredients that looked like it was working as an egg replacer. I don't think that the flax would've been needed in the end. I don't know why I didn't trust Céline.

Secondly, I didn't have agave nectar (that shit's expensive!... and addictive!), so I used sugar in place of it. I think, though, that agave could've added a certain richness to the muffs, or just smug healthiness. Whatevs. I got a little dose of omega 3s thanks to the flax.

Thirdly, I'm thoroughly convinced that all spices bought in Germany are lame and dulled down for the bland preferances of German taste buds. Even though I upped the spice content a tad, and granted I'm not familiar with garam masala, they still weren't as spicy as I was expecting. Just an interesting, savory muffin. I wish I'd shared them with more friends so I could've gotten more of a consensus. Me and the girlfriend that tried them thought, "not bad," and, "different."

In sum, I'm not sure how much my changes effected the taste of these savory treats or if the recipe still needs some tinkering to better suit my desires. It may be worth another try, though, if anyone'd be interested in sharing with me.

p.s. You know you're vegan when you've got chickpea flour on hand. laughoutloud.

Greets n' G'byes

2009-01-14T23:09:00.000-08:00

You know you have lots of international friends when you're saying your "hello"s or "goodbye"s and you've no idea what's appropriate for the given situation.

I remember learning the bisous in French class back in 8th grade. That's a sort of kiss wherin you touch cheeks with the person you're greeting or saying your au revoir to. My 13 year old self had to walk around the room, exchange "Bonjour!" or "À tout à l'heure!" with everyone and actually touch the cheek of another person - even boys in a few of the cases! My cheeks were burning by the end of it. Our French teacher told us that in France, people only hug if they're sleeping together. All that full-frontal action seemed, to her and her wannabe culture, perverse.

I'll tell you something perverse. When you get mixed up between the different cultures' bisous (some start on the right side, some on the left, some go once, others twice, some obnoxious Frenchmen just don't know when to stop...) and you end up touching lips. I did that once. I was so embarassed, I had trouble looking at him for the rest of the soirée.

Germans, although you may not expect it, are born huggers. They want to hug to say "hello" and they'd rather hug than wave "goodbye;" even if you aren't sleeping together. Sometimes I feel them moving into it and I know to keep a respectful, one meter distance, with a single hand raised to move from side to side: my friendly wave.

Americans are also known huggers. I'm not averse to hugging per say, I just need to like you a lot before we move that far. I recall being perturbed more than once in the States by someone hugging me hello or goodbye and I felt like, "What is this? I don't know you."

Americans also give good handshakes. I'm a huge fan of a good, firm handshake. Along the same line: If I have to move into The Hug, it's not so bad so long as it's somewhat meaningful and firm in its own right. There's some dude I know who gives the emptiest hugs. Now that's just wrong.

I honestly wish that everyone did the bisous. To me, it feels meaningful, but not too close. I feel like you can express emotion through it quite easily, and just as lightly leave it to formalities. I don't even mind the inconsistencies of this gesture in different regions and cultures; it adds a little bit of excitement to the experience. Germans will sometimes do the bisous when thanking you formally for a gift or something. That's if they know better than to hug you.

I think it'd also be cool to live in a culture where bowing was commonly used.

What do I do?

2009-01-10T04:45:00.001-08:00

I'm sitting here at home having just completed some washing and ironing. I tried contacting a few people about plans for this evening (I'm a social whore of late), organized a few things and left a few messages. It doesn't feel empty right now, my afternoon, it just makes me realize that I'm normally doing things at this time of day, during this time of week. Now, I can't help but wonder: What do I normally do on Saturday afternoons?

The family normally has breakfast at 10AM. A normal German breakfast is Brötchen, which my host mother hidiously translates to "bread rolls." We then lay out a handsome spread of sliced tomatoes, cucumber, salami, other meat that I don't know how to identify, buttah, nutella and sometimes jam. I'm okay with just tomatoes and cukes, but I like to plan ahead of the week-end so I can enjoy something flavorful for week-end breakfast. Sometimes I'll buy a cheap just-happens-to-be-vegan spread at the store (Germans love their spreads), make some hummus, or go for my latest kick: MARMITE!

A friend of mine brought a jar back for me from the UK. The high amounts of Folic Acid or something don't correspond with some countries' health codes. I'm pretty sure the only countries that sell it are the UK and Australia (there called "Vegemite"). It's a pretty exclusive little fetish; you love it or hate it. Do you think that Lady Sovereign is singing about Marmite, then? I'll certainly persue this quandery for the remainder of the afternoon.

Prodigal Parnsips

2009-01-09T10:59:00.000-08:00

I haven't made parsnips in ages. In fact, the last time I remember even having them was about 10 years ago at a Thanksgiving in South Carolina. I remember them tasting simple and potato-y. These ended up tasting rather sweet. I made a lot and really enjoyed the first bit, but towards the end... I dunno. They kind-of lost their charm. So I'd certainly recommend this for a simple, yet impressive, side dish.

What I did:
peeled and then grated them with one of those fantastic box metal graters. if you're fancy, you could use a food processor. That would certainly keep you from grating a knuckle, like I usually do.

Threw the grated parsnips on a pot on the stove with a little water (just to cover the bottom) and salt. I added tomatoes for colour and cooked it on med-low heat until the 'snips were soft.

now it's properly photoshopped

'Till Next Year!

2008-12-29T01:02:00.001-08:00

I'm off to Berlin, y'all! I'm really excited and a little bit nervous. Okay, I'm a lot nervous, but it'll be good for me because I haven't made a big trip like this in a while (not since Lille, I don't think), so I need to pop my security bubble and go out to explore the big wide world. And it's Berliiiiin! Beeeerrrrlllliiiin! I'll try to take lots of photos. Promise.

Brain Dead

2008-12-27T08:04:00.000-08:00

The last few days were kinda like you're talking to someone and they're talking about a future or past date in time and you're trying to figure out what today's date must be and you attempt to sneak your way around asking such a ridiculous question by asking for more details about this future or past date. All's I knew was that Christmas was Christmas, but it never felt like it, so that was confusing as well. Maybe this blog post will help me put some things in order; not necessarily the chronological sort.

On the 26th, all the stores in Germany are closed. Me and my buddy had to buy stuff for a dinner party that evening. Most specifically, we were on a hunt for tofu so I could have something "meaty" for the Raclette. Our first thought was Holland, but quite a-typically, the grocery store just over the border was closed. We saw many an unfortunate Aachen car also doing a prompt turn-around. "Hey, we could try Belgium," I wondered aloud. We scampered (as well as one can scamper while sitting in an automobile, which isn't much, but still good fun.) on over to my old town of residence. The GB was open and there I saw hilarious CocaCola products in mini form and multiple languages. Doesn't Dutch look silly? There was no tofu.

We've had some lovely weather today and yesterday. When I'm in Aachen and I see weather like that, I feel like I'm falling in love with the city all over again. Sometimes I feel a little inspired and I take a photo of my cold, cold feet looking over the balcony. Yes, I'm not ashamed to admit: I think that photos of feet look artsy. Look! It totally does! Ha ha. Made you look.

To recap Christmas, I wore my "I'm trying to look nice" outfit (pictured right) and the streets of Maastricht were calm, but festive. I would expect no less from the Dutch.

Oh! And I'm sure you're all dying to know what the vegan girl ate for Christmas! Well, we had a nice dinner with friends on the Eve. Everyone had roast while I had some lovely grilled, marinated tofu. We shared Grünkohl with tahini dressing and maple-mustard glazed potatoes and string beans. For dessert, I made sweet potato pie. I was a little worried about it because I had to make an insane amount of substitutions, but the results was super yummy. A great mid-zombie-movie snack, I might add.

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-25T11:32:00.000-08:00

Today was:
wake up late
debate how to spend the day
ride with timo and erin to Maastricht
walk through their christmas market
look for pommes frites
drink coffee
pretty drive
zombie movies

I hope your day was as nice and traditional as mine!

A Stitch in Time Saves Nine

2008-12-24T06:56:00.000-08:00

I know the phrase of this blog's title from reading Little Women when I was about 11. My taste in literature hasn't changed, apparently. For Christmas I recieved a chic lit book from Lukas. It was very sweet of him, honestly. From "Simon" I got a photo of him in a frame that he decorated himself. I almost wish I didn't because when I leave here, I'll have a token by which to miss him more. From the parents, I got an H&M gift card. It was incredibly nice of them.

Then, I gave them all their presents. They were all incredibly happy and grateful when recieving them. Hell, I am too whenever I get a present. I've grown to not anticipate any gifts for Christmas or birthdays anymore. It's an unexpected treat to be thought of in that way. I made Simon a cape and attached it to a shirt to it. It was Amanda's idea. She found it on an etsy site. I sewed it ALL by hand. How cool am I? I got the parents movie tickets and offered to babysit whenever they chose to go. For Lukas, I got white chocolate from Belgium, Switzerland (you can buy Trobelone here in Deutschland) and some fair trade stuff. It's his favorite. His parents are going to hate me later when he's not hungry for dinner (winkey face).

Well, we basically just finished doing that. They just left for church and I'm here finishing another glass of champagne (we all had one together at the gift unwrapping ceremony) and eating Mon Cheri chocolates (vegan!) before I head off to get my train to Aachen!

Stressful Holiday Times Inspire Cheezy Poetry

2008-12-23T09:12:00.000-08:00

"It's a shopping catastrophe!"
One might well say;
I certainly did
As I picked out my way
Through the drones of people,
Swarming like bees to a hive,
To H&M for a T-shirt I dive.

I didn't need much,
Just a plain coloured shirt.
Still a bitch, though, to find;
Gave me a headache that hurt.
And then one other buy,
A dress shirt and tie,
Per request of the parents,
A last-minute present.

The one that they wanted
Hung high on a rack.
I glanced 'round for help;
A tall man, ladder or ... sack?
What with everyone focused on their own consumption,
I stood just no chance, not with all of my gumption.

I had to settle for less,
One lower down.
I couldn't quite mind
Because at the sight of the line,
I quickly forgot.
But we all should be happy
With what I just bought.

The photos are of gingerbread men that I stole from Isa's ppk blog. Top: punk. Bottom: minimalist

Interregnum

2008-12-22T01:41:00.000-08:00

2008 seems relatively uneventful. I quit my job, was homeless and jobless (well, there was that stint in the traditional German restaurant), started a new job, changed cities, made new friends, my Dad came to visit, travelled a bit, fell into good habits, fell into bad ones, got lost, found things, learned stuff.... Okay, maybe there were some noteworthy things that came to pass. I think what makes the year seem a little strange overall is that I feel like I've been in limbo; not knowing where I'm going or what I should do with Life. There are some things that I want to change, though. Some realistic, some far-fetched, some easy and some difficult.

Firstly, and I've been really back-and-forth on this, I've decided to start school! I'm going to try to get into Heinrich-Hein Universität here in Düsseldorf. My host family offered to help me out with it and since that teaching job in Belgium didn't work out, this seems like a good opportunity of which to take advantage. I've got an appointment in the foreign office after the New Year.

I've moved 6 times in the past 3 years with two "nomadic" periods stuck in there somewhere. I'd like a little bit more security in place of that freedom, now, i think.

Save a bit more. Those that know me over here probably already see me as a penny pincher as is, but I could do better.

Go to an English-speaking country. I haven't been in one since I left at the end of March 2007!

Fly home for a visit?

Check out a Scandinavian country. Y'all, I wonder: If I hate the cold so much, why am I so interested in visiting/ living in cold places all the time? It's a paradox. Well, I hear that Oslo in the summertime is quite nice (winkey face).

Saturday Morning

2008-12-20T05:57:00.000-08:00

Preface: I have a general rule to never get on the internet on the week-ends. But whatever. Today I'm making an acception.

I guess I tend to go places on the week-ends. I seldom hang around the house because it's just plain not interesting and I always end up "working" if I'm here. But today is pouring rain and I yesterday was kind-of a doozy, so I've been taking my time 'round here today.

I was downstairs in my room, rocking out to Neutral Milk Hotel, when I heard Simon calling me. His parents were out and his brother was still asleep (it was about 11AM). He walked in and asked, "Rachah?" (That's how Simon pronounces my name.) "Rachah? Can you help me make this? I can't do it on my own." It was a Gingerbread House Kit and I quite gingerly obliged.

It's always a battle for me, doing activities like this with a 5 year old. Part of me wants it to look nice and perfect, but I also know that I have to let the kid do most of the craft himself, alleine, so he can learn or whatever. It's really hard to avoid monopolizing the work and also to keep him involved and interested when I'm doing the stuff that he really can't do.

So, that's what we made together and then we followed that up with some Wacklepudding (Jell-O). I watched patiently as he stuggled opening the package, only offering him tips. And I did cringe as I watched him pour the liquid all. by. himself. into the Jell-O bowls, spilling sugary, sticky, red liquid everywhere. He was really happy and proud of himself all the way through; especially so during the licking his fingers, spoon and bowl parts. Simon was very "home economics" oriented today.

Impressing the Omnis

2008-12-17T06:00:00.000-08:00

Today in German class we had our Weihnachtsfeier (Christmas party). Let me preface this by saying that at the begining of the course, an aupair brought a cake in on her birthday. Her host family had given it to her and instructed her to share it with the class. After that, every woman (because of course it's a class filled with aupairs and housewives) brought a cake in for her birthday. There seemed to be a lot of birthdays, actually. So of course I had to explain eventually why I couldn't take part in the glutony. When the Weihnachtsfeier came up, I felt I had to share something really good. I'm sure you understand why.

I made Gingerbread cupcakes from that cupcake book and crunchy peanut butter cookies from Vegan with a Vengance. The pb cookies were supposed to have a little big of yogurt in them, but at the store, they only had these big-ish tubs of it. I never liked yogurt to begin with and I haven't eaten it in so long that I wouldn't really know what to do with it, so I opted out of the yogurt. Maybe that was the essential bit because the cookies didn't turn out so crunchy and didn't hold together very well at all (sad face). I decided not to bring them to the course lest anyone try them and forever think ill of vegan baking. Lukas said he'll snack on them, but after that, I'll just throw them away. It's such a shame when I mess up like that. /vent.

The cupcakes, however, went over quite well. But because the course is full of housewives, everyone brought stuff and not all my cupcakes could get eaten. So now I've got way to many cupcakes and a damned waste of cookies on hand. Yay!

I also made some really forking awesome soup today. It's acorn squash, mushroom, rosemary, lime. Is that strange? I wasn't sure, so I conferred with that vegan forum that I visit. They gave some suggestions.... Well, I love it and it is for me after all and that's what counts. There ain't no one else to impress. Except y'all with my photo.

Why Do I Go Places?

2008-12-16T23:53:00.000-08:00

I often wonder this myself, but I'm sure that if you're my parent or another caring relative who reads this blog, you wonder this as well. I've realized over the extent of my travels that it's not so much the places you go, but the people you're with, the ones you meet and the friends you keep. But as a nomadic resident of the world, the keeping part is hard. There's a part of me that continues to ask, "What else is there?" And so I search.

Last evening I made a quick, emergency return to Aachen to say goodbye to a friend who is flying back to the States today. One might say that I was a good friend to make such a long trip for such a short visit at the very last minute, but to go was actually quite selfish. On my way there, I felt... so much; meloncholy, anger, fear, confusion, and a bit like my heart hurt. I left in order to get to the bottom of it.

I met her boyfriend first and we walkedd together to the café where we'd all be meeting. We could each tell how the other felt, and without touching on the matter too heavily, we said in our own ways, "Come on now, old chum. Bucker up." I couldn't say that our efforts were entirely fruitful, but we kept on truckin' on.

With the others plus the lady of the hour (well, my hour. the others had more time.), it felt just like the good ol' days, except that we all secretly wanted the undivided attention of Amanda, which proved a strain to split seven ways. When it came time to say my goodbye (far too early), Amanda agreed that it was a splendid idea for our friends to've come together on this evening; "I needed this," she said. I did too.

An ellipsis is not a suitable ending for a chapter. On this short trip I got to come to some conclusion.

Looong week-end!

2008-12-15T04:38:00.001-08:00

I didn't have to work on Friday, so we road tripped it to Trier with a surprise visit to Luxembourg.

Amanda: Where are we?
Boys: no response
Rachel (just off the phone with her dad): Hey Amanda, where are we?
Amanda: I don't know. I just asked and they won't respond.
Rachel: Hey guys, where are we?
Boys: no response
Rachel: hey amanda, do you think we're going to Luxembourg?
Amanda: I don't know, but if we see the country sign, I kinda want to ask them to stop so I can get a photo by it, but I'm too embarassed to ask because that sounds so American.

we then approach a sign

Girls: ahhhh! omg omg you have to stop! stop the car!!
our car: screeeeeeeech.
other cars: hooooonk!

we examine the sign more closely.

Sign: Luxembourg 1000m

we still had a kilometer to go. we got a photo as we drove by it in the car so as not to cause any more fuss.

top left: In Bitburg where they brew the world famous Bitburger beer. When you order a Pils in Germany, the default beer is that one. We were denied a tour of the brewery because we hadn't notified them far enough in advance (late the night before). We did get to see a movie, though, that looked like my buddy Timo filmed it. Or a drunk person. I sort-of got vertigo watching it. There were lots of mustaches involved as well.

bottom right: A snowy scene in the High Venn in Belgium. We got out and played. I made a snow angle. There were cross country skiers.

A Quick One While He's Away

2008-12-10T06:44:00.000-08:00

It's been nigh on a year that I've been blogging. I looked back on some of my older posts for the fond memories and with hopes that my writing may've improved. The memories have been warmed, but my soft skillz (the writing) ain't no better.

Here are some of my favorite memories from the year of blogging:
the aubergine tower
street art
the tampon story
s'mores
and
the brewery excursion

do you have any?

to the right is some street art in Aachen

Bike Rides and High Fives

2008-12-09T05:30:00.000-08:00

Due to popular demand, here are some photos from the bike route. Here, we have featured the Zed house, a place where you can't swim, a kayaking course, sheep, a goat, an office building that looks like a castle, a Georgia O'Keefe-esque photo, and a bridge. Even though I do complain about my job sometimes, it's really nice because sometimes I get the afternoon off and can go putt around on my bike until my feet freeze off.

Goodbye Blue Monday

2008-12-08T03:17:00.000-08:00

I keep having such fantastic week-ends that Mondays seem so ugh!

This week-end I had fun going out with Düsseldorf friends, then to Cologne for a Couch Surfing Christmas Market meeting (Why don't I ever bring my camera anywhere anymore?) and stayed up almost all night with a bunch of kids from Bonn. At the meeting, there was a sweet woman working on a radio exposé about Couch Surfing. I might end up on the radio, but I've no idea what station.

Sunday was sunny (a rarity for this region and time of year), so I woke up early and went on a really long bike ride. I should've brought my camera along then, too, because the route that I take (and deviate from) is quite lovely. Some dude showed me it and I greatly appreciate that fact every time I ride out there because I don't believe I would've found such a nice course otherwise.

Burn the Floor

2008-12-05T00:49:00.000-08:00

Burn the Floor was a ballroom dance production that a friend took me to last night. I adore watching dance, so the whole evening was already a real treat for me and was compounded by the fact these dancers were of international caliber; unlike the many student productions that I'd seen before. Their energy in both their steps and their souls was entirely contagious. Most of the routines involved a group of 10 dance partners on the stage that was so spectacularly coordinated, I felt like I couldn't watch anything closely enough. It was exciting. The star-studded lighting, sumptuous costumes, skillful steps, and quick beats aided by two live drummers (it was like the Allman Brothers, man!) left me with grin as wide as a cheshire cat through most of the first half. There were also two singers that occasionally participated in the fun and drama, which added a bit of a cabaret kinda feel to the scene. I enjoyed how they moved through the different styles of dance and with it, depicting different eras through costume and song.

I was a tad underwhelmed by the second half of the show. The singers got a bit more involved and I felt they were kinda out of place. Also, there were a lot more slow dance numbers that I didn't find so engaging. I shy away from anything remotely corny (I laughed through most of Titanic, for instance.) and those songs were really filled with it. Another disappointing factor were the entirely too mainstream musical choices. It didn't match the uniqueness of the choreography. How many dance routines have we already seen to American Bandstand and Tainted Love? And finally, the ending reminded me of The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King (although I do love that movie): Is it over yet? Are they concluding now? To make matters worse, the crowd made a standing ovation at the second ending (I detest standing ovations. They're on my uncomposed list of top 10 petty things to hate.), so we were forced to stand through the very last number. And then people attempted to clap in sync with the music (and that's in my top 5 of frivolous abhorrences), but I just tried to focus on how much I loved the dancers' spicy movements. I did. I delighted in it.

Games Me and Simon Play

2008-12-04T08:21:00.000-08:00

This actually might be a cool German lesson for some of you. I'm not sure if that interests anyone, but there are some folks who understand German and read the blog. Maybe y'all'll empathize.

Thumb War: I translate the taunt: eins, zwei, drei, vier, Ich fange den Daumen Krieg an! (one, two, three, four, I'm starting the thumb war. I don't know the word for "declare.")

Hide-and-Go-Seek. (verstecken) I hate not knowing exactly where he is, though, so we rarely play this. There's a phrase that you say to indicicate that the person hiding should give a little peep, but I forget what it is precicely.

I Spy with My Little Eye: Ich sehe etwas das du nicht siehst.

Go Fish. I don't translate the "go fish" part. It's awesome. I don't know what the King, Queen and Jack are called in German, though, so we just say their German letters.´

When waiting for the bus, I've created this game that involves jumping, sitting, touching or running around a pole depending on what colour car we see. It makes the time fly and people give us funny looks.
Milles Bornes (1,000 miles). It's a French (or Canadian?) card game that I've recently taught him. He caught on so fast! But it's hard to keep track of his mileage as well as my own.

Ente Fuße (duck feet). It's not really a game, but it's something we'll joke around with in the morning. When shoes are put on the wrong feet, you call it "Ente Fuße," which I think is pretty much adorable. Sometimes Simon crosses his legs and pretends that he has duck feet and tells me that I put his shoes on incorrectly.

Lots of board games. Mostly The Game of Life (Spiel des Lebens), Sorry! and Monopoly Jr. He could handle the regular Monopoly, but I can't. Our Sorry! game is in English. If you don't recall, there are cards numbered 1-12 that indicate how many spaces you can go and other specifics. For example, 1 and 2 allow a piece to exit your starting place, but with 2, you're allowed to go again. He never has to be reminded of the rules, even though we don't play it very often, which I find remarkable.

Chess! (Schach) I taught him how to play. He's good. In my defence, I do suck at that game pretty hard.

Airplane. (Flugzeug) I hold him in the air above me so his stomach rests on the bottoms of my feet. It's really fun to play on the trampoline.

Above is a castle that me and Simon made for the Meerschweinschen (guinea pigs).

Cherrybrook Kitchen

2008-12-02T08:34:00.000-08:00

My pal Amanda got me this brownie mix from the states. The company advertises itself as being "allergy safe" rather than "vegan." That makes sense because they also manufacture everything nut-free as well. For those that are dairy and egg free by choice rather than necessity, it can be equally reassuring that the equipment on which the product is manufactured isn't shared with blood, puss and cruelty. And I think that we also deserve to bake from a box occasionally just like everyone else.

Product review: The company is small and family-owned. The packaging is damn cute. The Fudge Brownie Mix could not have tasted better had I made it myself. It did not, however, hold together very well. I think that it lacked a proper egg replacer. The package instructed that water, margarine and oil be added to the dry mix. My recommendation would be to add 2Tbs of well ground flax seed to the water or replace the water with non-dairy milk and 1tsp vinegar, let it sit for about 5min, then add it to the mix with the rest. I guess they were trying to be nice to those folks who are allergic to soy and gluten (rice has gluten, right?), which you'd find in non-dairy milks.

Thanks so much for the mix, Amanda. I'm sorry I didn't share it with you, but I'll have you know that it was shared with a very deserving aupair from Czech Republic.

Dream Job

2008-12-02T01:11:00.000-08:00

I had more than a few guy friends in high school who were those kids with sooo much intelligence and potential, but only used about half an ounce of it for a passing grade. None of them had very high asperations when I inquired after their great wide futures. Back in those days I'd invisioned myself attending college, then grad school, then saving the world.... I'm not sure whether to laugh at or feel sorry for my childish optimism. Anyway, now I realize how sagacious these boys were. Or, at the very least, how much their dreams have come to be like mine.

Dream Jobs (in no particular order):

zamboni driver
grounds keeper (I'd really like one of those little claws that you can pick up trash with without having to bend over.)
forest ranger
organic farm worker
postman
clochard
cargo ship worker (this would be the most difficult to remain vegan at)
aupair (sorta. i mean, i do love my job.)

Honestly, I could persue any, some or all of these while trying to figure out how, why and where I should go to school so I could do something that might be cooler, but do not yet have the enthusiasm to do the work to get there. And look, I totally have the potential to make that last sentence not a run-on, but I figure I oughtn't squander what I got.

Food with Friends Tastes Best

2008-11-30T12:34:00.000-08:00

My friends from Aachen came to visit me over the week-end! I felt all honored. We made dinner together. We had seasoned rice from a bag (I ain't got no shame about that. it was tasty.), broccoli (Simon's favorite vegetable. Why his parents never make it is beyond me.), cranberry sauce FROM A CAN! (I do have a little bit of shame for adoring that and all of its artificial, can-shaped glory, but I cover it up by pretending that I like it ironically.), and Carrot Bisque from VwaV. We all sat down like a family, but with more rude jokes and politics. It felt just oh-so-nice.

Der Stern... nochmal!

2008-11-28T09:58:00.000-08:00

This has not yet arrived at our house, but I do not anticipate its presence very eagerly. I saw this cover in the grocery store today and pretty much thought, "oh my goodness!" and then, "Germans do love titties." and then, "This is way worse than the Kama Sutra edition." and then, "I wonder how I'll discretely stack the magazines and newspapers this time?" and then, "I could totally blog about this."

oh yeah. if you aren't familiar with the drama.

Read Me A Story

2008-11-25T03:59:00.000-08:00

I had to put Simon to bed last night because his parents went out to a birthday party. He really didn't want me to. I figure, "Yeah. It's cool to like your mom better." When I was hauling him upstairs (yes, hauling), I told him that he could pick out a book for me to read. He asked his older brother if he could read the book instead because, Rachel reads so terribly! I had to laugh. Because it's true.

Bing Crosby

2008-11-24T23:21:00.001-08:00

I wrote this little story last night while babysitting that's basically about how much the snow made my feet hurt. It could be better, but it's a blog post. It could be even longer so as to provide more explanation, but it's a blog post. I only mention Bing Crosby because when I think of snow, I think of lame holiday songs, some of which I have to blame Bing Crosby for.

I'd decided to leave for Aachen very last minute with naught but the clothes on my back. Of course I did not consider the practicality of my footwear. The drive back to Timo's flat began with a long, downhill slope. Giddy as we were on accounta the uniquely seasonal weather, it didnÄt seem so dire taht Timo could not break, despite that he was going at a mere snail's pace down the snow-covered raod. A good German driver though he is, Timo had neglected to swap his summer tires out for winter. Hopeless to drive, but not yet stranded, we left the car where is was, on the side of the road, and made to trek to our destination on the other side of the city.

Me and my buddies didn't tramp along for 10min when my feet became veritably soaked. I wined. My friend Amanda, also ill-equiped in the footwear department, complained as well. Rightly so. Our feet really hurt. Back at Timo's, I was able to remove my shoes and trot around in my water-laden socks until my feet lost some of that dreaded pins and needles feeling. But I didn't have long to recover. There was a train to catch.

On to the train station I went. The route there takes only about 20min. Having been mentally prepared for the second walk of the afternoon, and knowing it would feel as if my feet had plunged into an icy cold stream (which, in fact, they quite nearly had), the reality of the trek didn't seem so bad. By the end of the walk, though, I was reduced to a gait like something between a pained waddle and a stiff shuffle.

More than an hour later, I make it back to good ol' Neuss, but I still had to fetch my bike that I'd left in front of Simon's Kindergarten on Friday. I had to get him to school in the morning. Thank heaven there was a bus, otherwise I think I would not have won the battle. (between myself and the weather? me and my impractical shoes? I don't know, but it was war by god.) When I finally reached my bike, Simon's was still parked next to it. His parents had forgotten to pick it up after we took the bus home on Friday, rendering my long trek through the snow (okay, on the bus) obsolete.

Even the very last few meters home were torturesome. In my doorway, tearing off my shoes was arduous. Then the socks. My toes, they were white. White! I don't know crap about frostbite, so I'm not sure if I did the right thing. I tried to wiggle my toes ("wiggle your big toe!"), but it was painful. Soooo very painful. Then I tried to rub them a little. I tried ever so slightly lukewarm water from my shower, but then it felt like knives cutting through every nerve ending. I swore a lot and retired underneath the covers of my bed, convinced that I'd be crippled for life. And I swore some more. It got better, but it was pretty much the worst experience ever.

'Nanner Bread

2008-11-21T04:52:00.000-08:00

I've made this before, but in cupcake form and talked about it here. Kittee's banana bread is the best damn banana bread ever. I think I'm going to freeze it, though, and save it for later. Possibly Thanksgiving in Aachen on Sunday or maybe for a rainy day.

And apparently there's a possibility that we won't be eating much bananas in 10 years. The New York Times wrote this article about that. Complete with requisite pun.

EDA: FIRST SNOW OF THE YEAR TODAY!!! + sleet, rain, hail and... sun. It's been strange day.

The Crumb Trail

2008-11-20T23:18:00.001-08:00

I saw this play last night in Düsseldorf. It was put on by this Irish acting troup called Pan Pan Theatre, I think. I'm mostly telling you that so you can try your luck Googling it later. The story of the play itself wasn't particularly clear, but that didn't seem to be the point of it. I think their intention was to give us something to chew on and to present it in a provocative, aesthetic manner.

I can't formulate my own ideas, so I'm going to take some from the programme:

The piece is a sort of detective story, sharp and blunt. Detecting where we are at - but in the dark. No crime has taken place - or it has and we haven't noticed or simply don't care - but there is an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Fear, panic, stress, crisis....

Stuttering. Due to our vast stores of Panic within us. Some of us mangage to have some control over the amount of panic within us. We use religion, stories...

In The Crumbtrail the constant challenge of making the performance is passed on to the spectator. Possibilites are always more important. Searching out mechanisms of perception rather than creating effigies of supposed reality. Playing with views and illsions connecting diverse media, putting performers, objects and meterials into a new perspective again and again....

I personally enjoyed the musical interludes. And the many projectors laying around and the different ways they played with them.

It was a small venue and not very crowded. I made eye contact with some of the actors more than once. That's never comfortable. They were probably wondering, "What the hell is that girl doing wearing that huge orange coat? She looks like a boob. Maybe she's Dutch."

They also have YouTube videos (Pan Pan, I mean. I don't mean Hellbenders or anything. In fact, I don't believe they can opperate video cameras. They lack opposable thumbs.), I think, if you care to look.

4000 Reasons Why I Hate Glasses

2008-11-18T07:26:00.000-08:00

Glasses suck big time. I think that I can name two reasons that they're good: 1. They're more economical and 2. I feel less exposed if I have them on and am not wearing make-up. I actually don't care about the second reason.

I can't see anything when it rains. It sucks even more when hiking in the Smokies.
They fog up when I walk inside a warm building, retreating from the cold.
Sometimes I forget to push them up higher on my nose by grabbing the frame's rim and I push them up right in the middle and feel like a huge dork.
Any water-related activity.
Reading: I feel like I have to take them off to see properly. For some reason this is annoying.
Sometimes if you're at Love Parade and you have perscription sunglasses, you put them on and forget that you've left your real glasses somewhere.
No peripheral vision.
Smudges that never seem to leave.
Kissing someone else that also wears glasses. Major awkwardness!
Not knowing where they are when I wake up in the morning. Then I can't see anything and finding them is pretty difficult. I have gotten better at this over the years.

There's bound to be more....

Oh, sometimes spastic frenchmen can break them on a Saturday night and you have to wait 'till Monday to get them fixed.
And roller coasters!

Der verbotene Blick auf die Nacktheit

2008-11-17T00:42:00.000-08:00

"The Forbidden Gaze at Nudity," was the exhibition that a friend and I went to see here in Düsseldorf on Saturday. Here's a translated discription of exhibition's theme from the museum's website:

In Greek mythology we read about Actaeon the hunter who inadvertently stumbles upon Artemis bathing in the nude. As a punishment for catching this glimpse, he is changed into a stag and is subsequently torn apart by his own dogs. This horrific event was a fairly frequent subject for paintings in Greek art.

After Ovid had included the story of Diana and Actaeon in his book on transformations - "Metamorphoses" - the subject was frequently depicted between the Renaissance and Classicism, as part of a general move to revisit antiquity. This subject from Greek mythology attracted renewed interest among 20th-century artists who focused largely on the psychological aspect.

Using works that relate directly to this mythical tale, the exhibition seeks to cover a broad range: using paintings from antiquity, the Renaissance, Mannerism, the Baroque, Classicism, the 20th century and contemporary art, the exhibition offers an introduction to the complex area of the forbidden glimpse and of erotic art. While delighting in the subject, the exhibition nevertheless maintains the necessary respect for this fascinating and difficult subject.

I may have shared this before, but please allow me to reiterate: I am not a cultured" person. I ain't got no fancy

knowledge 'bout art, history, theatre or whatever, but maybe that makes me more of a statistical control. I don't have so much experience with the subject, giving me a more objective opinion. Maybe?

So anyway, I really enjoyed this exhibition. I was a little worried about feeling awkward or offended by some or most of the pieces, but it wasn't that way at all. There were a lot that I found very touching and many others that were just beautiful, interesting and generally asthetically pleasing. It was also nice to see it with a friend; there were some paintings, photographs, sculptures where we said to each other, "Now what's this all about?" and we tried to sort it out amongst ourselves. My friend was more well informed in art and culture than I and was able to recognize the names of certain artists (for example, Edvard Munch) and tell me what else they were known for. That was just another aspect about the visit that made it all the more interesting.

If you like, here are some other paintings that were featured in the exhibition.

The friend that I went with is from Neuss, so when she drove me back home, I invited her in for some dinner. She's vegetarian and thinking about going vegan. I'd just gotten some bok choi, bean sprouts, hoisin sauce and soy sauce all for €3 at a local asian food shop (and dudes, they sell maramite there! that's for another time, though). So I fried that up with some eggplant and tofu and it was heaven. The End.

EDA: And, just some food for thought: I picked up a book of "erotic photography" the other day (actually, like, two months ago, but whatevs) and in there was a quote from some famous dude. While I don't remember the dude, I do remember (maybe not verbatim) what it said, "Erotic photography reaches the line, pornography crosses it." Something to keep in mind when evaluating a presentation of artwork such as this.

Progress

2008-11-14T00:28:00.000-08:00

I think that my German has been getting better. In my class the other day, we had a short test so the teacher could see how we were doing and I got everything right except for this one sentence with the dreaded trimmbar verb, kennenlernen. That one can go fuck itself, though, as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, I'm kind-of proud of myself because I do pay attention and take care to use the correct article, declinate my adjectives accordingly, expand my vocabulary (that bit's coming around pretty slowly), get the right order of the subject, verb and object in every sentence and... alright everyone probably tries to pay attention to those things, but I have as well and I believe that it's paying off. So, progress = positive. Yay!

On a similar note, a story about me and Simon:

Simon (okay, a short digression: some people don't use their kids' names in their blogs. Instead they write S. instead of Simon, for example, to save the kid's identity from internet creeps. Sometimes I wonder if I've made a poor decision in not previously considering this option. Thoughts?)... so, Simon and I were playing foosball downstairs yesterday. I always let him cheat in that I allow him spin the players 'round real fast rather than forcing him to always keep contact with the handle that spins them. Other than that, I'm a bit of a stickler to (for?) the rules, mostly because Simon is a poor loser; and on this day, I was winning by a large margin. My thought is that it's a good lesson for him if I choose to behave like someone his age would, like the outcome of the game actually matters to me. So he started getting pissed off and insisted that some of my goals shouldn't count and I wouldn't have none of that.

Eventually, we decided to go upstairs and play Monopoly instead. During that game we had another disagreement wherein I genuinely thought he was making up another rule so he could keep some high ground in the game. (I must also add that Simon was extremely tired from staying up late -'till almost 11!- doing Sankt Martin stuff the day before and he also woke up early and had a long day playing with his friend, going to gym class, eating too much candy, etc.) We ended up having this long talk about it and I wanted to compromise, but not give him exactly what he desired. It was just a game after all. That's what I told him. And finally back to the point of progress: I couldn't help but wonder if we would've had such a big problem if our communication was in English or if my German were closer to adequate. It turns out he was right about the rule, though. I felt kind of like an ass, but hopefully I'm an ass whose heart is in the right place?

Thumbprint Cookies: an erotic masterpiece

2008-11-13T03:44:00.000-08:00

Simon, his friend and I made cookies today. They're from Vegan with a Vengance and, per usual, taste orgastic. There's peanut oil in 'em. One wouldn't think that'd work, but it totally forking does. I used strawberry and apple jams. I taught the boys how to say "strawberry" in english and they really couldn't manage.

We used to bake these in The Blue Chair in Sewanee. More often than not it was a plain sugar cookie kinda base with strawberry jam in the middle. I always thought that they looked like vulvas.

I'm a blogging champion of late.

Sankt Martin

2008-11-12T23:52:00.000-08:00

Last night was Sankt Martin. The kids come 'round the neighborhood with little lanterns and knock on your door and WAIT. Get this. They sing you a song!! Simon sung it for me this morning; it goes something like: The stars are up high in the sky/ and we have our lanterns down here./ We're going around to ask you a question/ and we hope that you'll be there. Now it's like remembering a dream and the harder I try to remember, the more it evades me. I'll attempt to persuade Simon and his friend to sing it to me again later.

Back to that evening: The boys in the photo sung (sang?) their song and I stood in the doorway with an expression on my face like I'd just dropped a ton of ecstacy and came across a herd of unicorns. When they finished, I held out the appropriated bowl of candy because Sankt Martin is kinda what the Germans do instead of Halloween. They then obliged to a photo for this American tourist. Aren't their lanterns great? Aren't their faces adorable?

For someone that insists she's never going to put her overies to any use, I certainly obsess a good deal about all the cute things that children do. You have no idea how much I think about good names for kids either.

Why Sankt Martin? The dude was apparently a Roman soldier and later became a monk. He shared his cloak with a beggar during a snow storm and then dreamed that he'd been sharing it with Jesus. Jesus appreciated the gesture and somehow that brought Martin down the immortal road of sainthood. In some obscure way, that ends up translating to nominating a day where kids can walk around a neighborhood with paper lanterns and ask for candy. Hi! I'm Rachel, queen of butchering biblical stories.

Tennessee is soooo purty

2008-11-12T03:05:00.000-08:00

My mother took these photos the other day. One is taken on top of the plateau and the other from down in the valley. I'm guessing that the valley is Hawkins' Cove? The one looking off the bluff is right by a convent close to my house. I've been to quite a few weddings there. As in the priest usually stands on that grassy part before the rock starts. It's even more amazing in person.

I used to walk or run out there in the afternoons and every time it was difficult to turn away to go back home. Euroland is great, but I never find myself so enraptured by such an overwhelming, simple, natural beauty as I have back home. It'll still be there when I go back for a visit, though.

My friends can cook and photo edit!

2008-11-11T02:33:00.000-08:00

Amanda found this baby on a website and suggested we make it for family dinner over the week-end. I guess because she was curious about cassoulet. See, she was in Paris recently with her host father and he took her to this one restaurant where they're supposed to serve the best cassoulet, like, evah. But sadly, cassoulet is a Christmas dish, apparently, and even though the Germans are already all over the Glühwein and Strödelkuchen*, I guess the French are not quite ready for that holiday spirit.

So, cassoulet is normally a really meaty dish, but this one is vegan and got everyone's approval; even Amanda's despite that Timo (Himself?) snuck tofu in. Mmmmm... tofu. What we all noted was that it was so nice and simple. I think that I often try to make the tasties that I put in my mouth a bit too complex. This change to a more lucid palate was pleasant.

And please excuse that dreadful photo. One of these days I'll get a camera with a manual focus so we can all look at what I want you to look at. In the mean time, we'll make due and look at how that website's version of a cassoulet totally schools ours. Props to Timo on the photo editing.

*I have no idea what the actual name I'm searching for is. Someone wanna help me out?

The Tip Tip Top

2008-11-10T02:59:00.000-08:00

I had another splendid week-end. Instead of boring you with all the minute details, I'll tell you my top five favorite things that happened.

1) I got to see a friend's band play a little gig. Socially, though, it was kind-of strange and awkward, but that's another story. It was a worthwhile experience overall.

2) On Saturday I met with my American girlfriend in Aachen and we just had a nice, simple afternoon. Oh, and I drank a lot of coffee. Aaaand I put on this eyeliner and it was such a pleasurable experience, you wouldn't believe.

3) Feuerzangenbowle. It's a super alcoholic winter beverage that invovled fruit, red wine, rum and huge ass hunk of burnin' sugar. There's a tradition at the Aachen university to make that, get pissed and then go to the uni theatre to see this old, crappy, black and white film about students making that same drink and getting pissed. We skipped the movie part.

EDA: here's something on wikipedia about it!

4) An all-vegetarian chinese restaurant with seitan on the menu and cans of soymilk in the cooler. I went there with a vegan friend and we talked about how all her lesbian friends are turning straight and discussed our favorite vegetables. Also, the people working at this little place were insanely adorable; I could've pinched their cheeks until they bled.

5) The ballet! Me and my vegan friend had been trying to see one together for ages and it finally worked out last night. Even though we got lost trying to find the restaurant, our tram was late and we were hopelessly distracted by sexually aggressive primates in a shop window, we made it, albeit slightly tardy. When waiting with the usher for the opportune moment of entry, I felt like I was in school again and in very big trouble for being truant.

The ballet was about Hans Christian Anderson and some of his stories coming alive and manipulating his life, etc. My friend told me beforehand that this ballet had gotten bad reviews, so I went into it expecting very little. I ended up really adoring the entire thing: costumes, choriography, the stage, lighting.... Afterwards, though, I had to admit to my friend that I wasn't able to completely follow the plot. She told me, "That's the ballet for you. The storylines are always weak and people think there's more to it than there really is." Now this girl is cultured, I thought.

pictured: from the Deutsche Oper am Rhein website.

Vegan Hardcore: Headache or Elation?

2008-11-07T02:50:00.000-08:00

This is a genre of music that, I must admit, have not yet been able to grasp. Back in the day, I knew a vegan kid who listened to vegan hardcore. I had a huge crush on him, but lacked the mohawk and vegan tattoos that'd generate any sort of sex appeal in that community. Fuck 'em.

I was listening to this vegan hardcore band this morning: http://www.myspace.com/cherem. They're cool, but I'm still not feeling it.

I also used to be aware of this vegan straight-edge punk band who'd dress up like pirates and have a keg of root beer at their shows. I forget their name. I think it was a Chicago thing. That was a pointless story, but at least you now know that such a thing can indeed exist.

Speaking of hardcore, straight-edgers and punk, here's Sarah Kramer showing us how to make chocolate chip coconut cookies. I'm making them for a friend's party in Aachen this week-end. I didn't have chocolate chips, so I subbed cocoa powder instead. It made them not so sweet, which suits the Germans' taste a bit better and mine too, actually.

Today I discovered the coffee in the house and am procrastinating like crazy.

And the winner is...

2008-11-05T00:46:00.001-08:00

It's no secret. I hate the news. I make a point to avoid it. But when I check my email in the morning, various headlines are hurled at my eyeballs by Yahoo. Today's contained the words "landslide," "victory," "black," and "president." Rather than immediately click on the Inbox icon, I stared at the photo and its caption for a moment, my mouth likely agape. I really thought, very briefly, that it was a link to an Onion article. That goes to show how little faith I had in my fellow Americans. Honestly folks, good job. I didn't think you could, but you did it.

This isn't much of a blog post, so I'll add on some pumpkin-y things later.

Astronauts

2008-10-31T04:40:00.000-07:00

It's Halloween! and I'm not excited about it at all. I've gotta admit, after going vegan, this holiday stopped being so fun. Reeses, Snickers... no more. And here, people don't do the fun costume parties or anything.

This evening, I'm going all the way out to Bielefeld to see a band that my friend Catherine wants to see. That's their poster there on the left. And they really do dress like that on the stage. So hey, that's almost like a real Halloween.

When I picked Simon up from his final painting class (which he abhors) today, I asked him, per usual, how it was and he responded, "Good!" "Really?", I asked, somewhat surprised. Then he realized the mistake he'd made and corrected himself, "No! It was bad! Really bad!" Whatever. We've signed him up for the next one that begins in January.

EDA: The Disco Biscuits also have this really cool song called "Astronaut." you should listen to it.

Learnin's from Euroland

2008-10-29T04:45:00.000-07:00

My friend Amanda did the same thing on her blog not too long ago. This is in no particular order, ok?

I prefer fiction to non.
Silence is valuable.
Baking is almost never healthy.
I do NOT like the news.
How to take care of myself. To rest when I need it.
Anger doesn't help anything.
I prefer complete independence as opposed to any kind of dependence.
Cooking for one.
I hate the disco.
Friendship is really important.

Hmmm.... Amanda's list is a lot better. She compares how things are here to the U.S. a bit more. I'd like to, but I forget too much about it. My list seems a little bleak. Like, "cooking for one." But cooking for just yourself is really fun because you can put as much nooch or whatever in what your making and you don't have to care what anyone else will think of it! And it's also funny that I say that anger is no good, then go on to profess my hatred of the disco. But really, it's best to stay clear of those places.

Okay, maybe you can take a momment to pause and reflect upon what you've learned in the last year or whatever. How to divide fractions? Gardening skillz? How to really piss off your sibling? Feel free to share.

Yes or Dried Tofu Knots

2008-10-26T12:16:00.000-07:00

In Cologne yesterday, I had a killer find at a random asian food shop: a bag of "dried tofu knots" for 99 euro cents. Your guess would be as good as mine when trying to imagine what sort of texture and taste this packaged food would aquire after rehydration. I boiled them for about 10min in vegetable bouillon and then sprinkled them with soy sauce and brown rice vinegar. Result: Tasty! and also quite chewy.

Of course I double-checked the label that it was vegan. Ingredients: soy beans, water. Well, I suppose that is what tofu is made of, but should we still be calling these buggers tofu knots? It reminded me of an argument about stem cell research or the likes that I'd heard in my philosophy 101 class from back in the day. But before we go there, let's talk about Yes.

Yes, Yes. The pop rock hit from the '70s that kept going until no one was too sure what was actually going along anymore. How much was the band Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe? Was it still Yes despite the departures and returns of many a guitarist, keyboardist, bass player...? What makes them Yes? How can these knots remain tofu? I'm no guru. I've only just compared tofu to another British progressive rock band.

Jack-O-Lantern

2008-10-24T07:05:00.000-07:00

We made a jack-o-lantern today! He didn't get so into taking out the guts as I thought he would. The smell really repulsed him. I recalled it being repelling as well, back when I was young. (cue annoying winkey face made with a semicolon and half a bracket)

I asked him to make a terrible face, like his pumpkin.

Home in May!

2008-10-23T08:41:00.000-07:00

I'm going back to the states in May for my sister's high school graduation. Not permanently, of course. Hopefully by then I'll know where I'm going next because right now I haven't a damn clue. Good thing I don't stress, huh?

Things I'm looking forward to:

The colloquial and quotidian things that I've forgotten: different accents, The Olive Garden, what size bags flour and sugar are sold in, expressions, stores open past 10PM, that good ol' American friendliness...
The great outdoors: hiking, climbing, swimming, skinny dipping, wading and swimming in water so cold you think you might die, star gazing....
is family even necessary to say?
drinking beer at Shannanaghan's
the community. it's small, so I'm pretty sure people are going to remember me. I wonder how many read the blog?
my old friends might be home onaccounta they'll've all just finished college! ouch! I'm a failure!
I wonder how simple or out-of-place it'll feel?

Simon on Love

2008-10-22T09:34:00.000-07:00

There's this podcast that I really like called "Savage Love." I think that Simon could teach Dan Savage a thing or two about that.

Today, I picked the young lad up from Kindergarten and one of his friends informed me, "Simon is in love." The little girl's name is Emma and she's a neighbor of ours.

Simon also loves Nutella. The girl in the background is his cousin.

In the bus today, Simon asked his friend (a boy) quite spontaniously, "Shall we kiss?" and they both leaned forward and kissed on the lips! Simon then stated that men and women can marry, but men and men cannot marry. Suddenly, a boy behind us piped up, "They can so marry! Men and men can get married to each other!" If some people on the bus weren't staring when the two friends kissed, they were all looking in our direction now. I figure it's good to get folks thinking a little, no matter how young.

When we play The Game of Life (it's a boardgame) I let Simon and his friends choose to marry a man or a woman. Simon usually chooses to be a woman, then he marries a man when he gets to that point in the game. The other day, though, he and all his friends chose to be boys and marry boys as well. "We don't want any girls in our cars," they said.

I like it when I ask Simon for a reason as to why he's doing something. Hmmm... I can't think of a good example right now, but he'll often reply, "Weil es einfach so ist!" Because it's simply so! Okay, I stink at translating, but maybe you get it. Personally, I dig the simplicity. Very sagacious for his age.

Road Trip!!

2008-10-20T03:43:00.001-07:00

I went to the Ruhrgebiet this week-end to visit some buddies. We made it into a road trip and it was a blast. The Ruhrgebiet is this part of Germany that had a lot of coal and really boomed in population during the Industrial Revolution (or thereabouts?), but the deluge has since declined and the residents of these many, compacted cities are so affluent as in their glory days.

Stuff the Ruhrgebiet has:

great currywurst (apparently)
hills of discarded sediment, on one of which this structure (picture top left and bottom right) was built
areas that look like one town, but there's signs that state where one city is ending and another beginning
the biggest mall in germany (we did not make a stop there)
that's all I got for now.

this is kind-of a messed up post. I'm not fixing it now.

Drunken Chocolate Pumpkin Muffins

2008-10-20T03:22:00.000-07:00

What can I say? I got a hardcore crush on the havecakewilltravel! blog. I did a lot of deviating and a bit of improvising, so I can't say how they'll be for you if you try to make them. I will say, however, that whiskey + chocolate + pumpkin is brilliance in a bite... even at nine in the morning.

Anecdotes

2008-10-16T23:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I write my rs in cursive and sometimes I write them in manuscript; it depends on the precursory letter or my mood. The other day in German class, I asked my teacher to look over some sentences I had written. She saw my rs and told me that, to her, they looked like ns and in Germany they don't mix manuscript and cursive like that. I may've been a bit curt in my reply. I told her, "For the test I'll be sure to write my rs your way." What I was really thinking, though, was: Well, your 1s look like 7s and I shouldn't have to attune my handwriting to y'alls! I've conformed enough!

over there are the fall colours in my home town. idn't it lurvly?

The other day I was in the grocery store on a mission to purchase Fleichwurst. Never having bothered to expand this area of my German vocabulary, I walked up to the counter and asked the woman who appeared to be responsible for the handing out of tattered flesh. Much to my dissappointment, she returned my question with, "Which one?" I was hoping that she'd just hand me one of those phallic tubes and we'd be done wtih our exchange, but no. I had to choose between a phallic tube and some pre-cut slices of greater circumfrance than the pink, sausage-like thing. If I'd've kept working at that traditional German restaurant, would I have known this already?

schönes wetter. schönes wochenende.

2008-10-15T03:57:00.000-07:00

Damn. It's really had to set up cool photos all left and right sided on the blog. Good luck reading this post!

The top left photo is a pretty building up 'round the Lousberg and Amanda making her cult facebook photo face

The top right photo is my Aachen family.

The bottom left photo is of fall colours beginning to arrive.

The bottom right is this little corner in Aachen that I really <3. You can kinda see the Dom there in the background.

When you click on the photos, they'll get bigger for you.

We found a place to sit outside on the Marktplatz. I'm perpetually fascinated that this must be by natural hair colour.

Stroganoff... back to 8th grade

2008-10-15T03:40:00.000-07:00

Now that we all know that I view "seitan stroganoff" as some sort of vague sexual allusion, we can all wash that sass out of our mouths and return to our homerooms.

I splurged on some sorta nicer noodles. They come in their own individual balls?

Of course I didn't have much of what the recipe (VwaV, per usual, by the way) required when I decided that I wanted to make stroganoff. I figured that eggplant could sub cremini mushrooms and zucchini could sub peas and that shiitake mushrooms could sub portebello. right?

I made a lot and didn't realize how incredibly filling it'd be. Doubtful that I could finish it all in a week, I thought about bringing some over to a friend's the other evening, but then I thought that this might be one of those foods that I like and is weird to everyone else. I've never had beef stroganoff either, so I'd no idea what it was supposed to taste like. To me, though, it was quite delectable.

a dark bread + some dostrovsky and we've got ourselves a right red dinner.

VwaV Carrot Bisque

2008-10-10T00:11:00.001-07:00

On that forum that I visit, they've got filters for bad words that are generally food related. For example: masterbate = stroganoff and fuck = fork and bitch = bisque, so you can imagine how I might be giggling when I talk about that awesome bisque I had last night. I can't say that it was the best thing ever... because all the VwaV soups are so.forking.good!!

VwaV carrot bisque with a brötchen.

This week-end I'm going to Aachen to visit the family (not the former folks I lived with, silly!) and then to Bonn for a CS brunch. I was a little freaked out about money and stuff, but when my host father paid me this morning, he gave me money for last week too! I told him, "But I didn't work last week." "Oh, that's alright," he replied. " There may be another week where we'll need you more often." So, basically he's bribing me (is that bribing? or is there a better term?), but I'm totally okay with that. He's named a good price.

When my host father was re-arranging my room yesterday (more on that later), he kept talking about getting rid of my huge bed and getting a smaller one so I could fit a desk and couch or chair in there. I said, "No way, man!" (alright, i didn't call him "man") "I love the huge bed! In my last host family, I had to sleep on this couch thing." [see this post] My host father responded, "You what?! Rachel, that's not right." It'd never occured to me before, but he's absolutely correct. If I'm going to be living somewhere for a year, I need to be given an actual mattress to sleep on and not whatever my host family has got lying around. For all the preaching I do to other aupairs about asserting their rights, I can't believe how often I don't stand up for my own.

Brownie Cupcakes

2008-10-09T01:55:00.000-07:00

I know this aupair from Kenya, her name is Beatrice. Today is her birthday, so I've made her cupcakes; Brownie Cupcakes, from have cake, will travel! As much as I love zelinueh's blog and trust her recipes, I wasn't all together with her on these cupcakes. She called for raisins, but I thought, "Well that's not brownie-like," so I subbed in chocolate chips. It also calls for jam and a lot of lemon flavoring. I think that the jam idea was cool. Next time I'll probably use blueberry and not strawberry. If I make these babies again, I don't think I'll use any lemon at all because that made them too citrus-y and brownies can't be citrus-y. On first bite, though, I definately thought, "wow! brownie!" so, that was cool.

brownie cupcakes. click on it! It looks cooler!

Pictured with the cupcakes is my apron that my friend Catherine got me. I try to use it whenever possible. I'd like to pimp it up with some ponies and anarchist pins in the future.

In other news, I FINALLY FOUND MY GRATEFUL DEAD FRISBEE!! My host father is re-arranging my room (more on that later) and when he was moving a big bookshelf with camping stuff, I saw it shoved in there. woo hoo! Folks, I have been in some serious frisbee-playing deprevation. We need to play soon.

Worship Seitan!

2008-10-08T04:11:00.000-07:00

Seitan is made from wheat gluten. What is wheat gluten? I've no freakin' clue. I do know that you can make your own wheat gluten by washing flour 3 times. I've no idea how you wash flour either. I will tell you, however, that the best seitan recipe in the whole wide internet was created by Lachesis on thePPK. You can see her recipe here.

Oh, and Lukas brought back this plate from his soccer training trip in Spain. He got everyone in the family a plate. Even me!

cut it with our meat cutter so it's all nice and even. forgot to clean it off, though and there was icky white globs of fat on two of the pieces! yuck!

Actually, I was lying. That recipe is not the greatest on the whole wide internet. I've made it better with a few slight, but integral changes. see, the other Seitan O'Greatness, although great, comes out a little dry, like pepperoni (okay, what I imagine pepperoni must be like). Adding some fresh veggies in the mix and not so much wheat gluten helped a tad.

The Recipe O' Greatness:

Ingredients:
1 1/4 cups vital wheat gluten
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 cup nutritional yeast
1/4-1/2 cup diced red bell pepper or other veg (about half a pepper)
1 tsp salt
2 tsp paprika
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cumin
1-2 tsp pepper (I use 2 tsp)
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper (you can use 1/8 tsp if you like it less spicy)
1/8 tsp allspice
2 tsp garlic powder
~~~~~~~
3/4 cups water or veg broth
4 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp tamari
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp vegetarian Worcestershire sauce

Preheat oven to 325°.

In a large mixing bowl mix dry ingredients. Mix the rest of the ingredients (liquid ingredients) in a smaller mixing bowl. Whisk well until mixed.

Add the liquid ingredients to the dry ingredients. Mix well, then knead for a minute or two.. it doesn't need long. the bits of veggie might try to fall out; just shove 'em back in there.

Form into a log (6-8" long Actually, I have enough for two logs.), wrap tightly in foil, twisting ends. Bake for 90 minutes. Flip at 45min. When done baking, unwrap and leave out to cool all the way. Then wrap it foil or plastic and refrigerate. Slice to use as desired.

There's some other good seitan recipes out there, lately most of 'em are based off of Lachesis'. Next week, I think I'd like to try this one.

Chick Lit

2008-10-04T04:28:00.000-07:00

Simon and his mom are back! Katja, who is ever-so-thoughtful, brought me back a book from the States. "I figured you were running low," was her reasoning. She was right.

The title of the novel: Fourth Comings. It's about a twenty-something Columbia graduate and the woe's of having an NYC brownstone appartment that she can barely afford, an outstandingly cool twenty-something boyfriend who's just started his freshman year at Princeton, living with nympho lesbians and her best friend since middle school and, on top of all that, balancing a free-lance editing job. Hilarious, right? The opening chapter includes a handsome young WASP trying and failing miserably to get the number of our heroine in a bar, an explicit sex scene complete with fantasy digression, and a short discussion on Buddhism.

This is the fourth book in the author's nearly-finished five part series. I wouldn't've known that the public had another three stories of this vein forced down their throats if I hadn't developed an avid interest in the author. You can't help but wonder, Who writes these things anyway? Megan McCafferty, as Wikipedia states, grew up in New Jersey, attended Central Regional High School (hello middle class America!), graduated from Columbia University where she majored in English, has lived in Brooklyn and Manhattan before settling in Princeton, NJ, and worked as an editor for magazines like YM and Cosmopolitan . Essentially, McCafferty is writing an auto-biography of her life as she would have wanted it. I find that fascinating.

When I started this blog post, I'd no idea that I was going to spend such a long time ranting about a chick lit book. Read into that as much as you like.

What I think about while running

2008-09-29T01:41:00.001-07:00

1) I really wish I wasn't running.
2) Ouch! Am I getting shin splints? Maybe I should stop. No, I'm just being a wus. Keep on trucking.
3) What on earth is my iPod thinking (I've discovered this new function called "shuffle."), playing The Clash, then Miles Davis followed by Ratatat? Or, wait. Maybe that does work?
4) Is my form okay? Do I need to think about form?
5) I wish I were swimming right now. Swimming is so much better.
6) I really wish I wasn't running.
7) Breathe!
8) Are they looking at me? Stop looking at me!
9) My face feels red. I hope it's not red. Crap, it's probably beet red.
10) Almost there. Almost home.

This week-end was:
aachen and friends, dancing, belgium, maastricht, clear skies, a catherine visit, girl's night, stars, an apple, anarchists, vegan brunch, afternoon on the rhein, conversing, reading and amazingness.

Remember that one time she did that Raw thing?

2008-09-26T00:19:00.001-07:00

I love putting warm things in salads. Like peas or corn off the cob or grilled tofu. Last night I put warm peas on top of my salad and it felt friggin' great. So, as you may've guessed, I really didn't like the raw thing. I'm not saying that it's not a good thing, it just wasn't for me. Going into it cold turkey may've not been wise, but that's how I roll. I think that Raw would be a healthy way to live, but you'd really need access to all the materials: good books, fancy kitchen equipment (like a dehydrator, a food processor), fancy foods, time for food prep....

Here are some things that I struggled with:
* You know, I don't like raw veggies very much! I love salads, but I like them with beans and tofu and grilled eggplant.
* Acidic fruits! Tomatoes, apples, grapes... these are all things that I love, but my sudden increase of them in my diet or perhaps the lack of balancing them out with whole grains and not so many veggies, my throat started to hurt. I dunno. It was just real uncomfortable.
* Trying to make things spicy to warm up my body without warm foods or beverages also made my throat hurt.
* Everything felt bland. That'd probably be different if I had things like nori flakes or raw tahini in my pantry. At any rate, eating felt like a boring task, which I viewed as sinful.
* No nooch.
* I thought being a social vegan was tough!

Here were some things that were good:
* No processed foods!
* DIY is cool!
* I wore my new, sexy apron a lot.
* Felt thinner because of all those reasons in the first list?

Maybe if I did stuff like this guy!
ps- you have freakin got to look at that link.

Fatty, Sugary, but in a good way.

2008-09-25T02:36:00.000-07:00

I feel that's like saying, "I'm a facist, but the good kind." But really, that's what I've done. And what I've done is raw brownies! They were basically 1c walnuts, soaked overnight, 1c dried dates, and 1/4c cocoa powder, which should've been carob powder (cocoa powder isn't raw, but carob powder is?), but what can you do?

three little things

I thought that my trusty immersion mixer could handle the task at hand, but I nearly killed my very favorite kitchen utensil. A food processor would be best for this kind of blending job, but I don't got one. Next time, I'll probably chop up those dates and walnuts as best I can with our newly sharpened knives and then bring the hand blender to hell and back again.

a little gooey, but real tasty!

Question of the day: How do you like your banana?
a) green
b) brown
c) wet
d) other

Raw: a photo essay

2008-09-24T08:34:00.000-07:00

I made an almond pâté. I got the idea from one of the recipes on this website. I soaked my almonds for about 18hrs. They got big and fat and purty.

the veins! they're awesome!

sitting in a fancy bowl.

Here's a funny story:

On Monday the doorbell rang, so I went and answered it. An old man was there, holding a bunch of big, sharp knives and asking where Katja was. Despite the minacious weapons at hand, it all didn't seem too out of place and as he began stepping through the doorway, I nearly let him in, but then something clicked in my little mind. I thought, "Knives, sketchy old man, kids in the house, I don't know...." So, I stepped in front of him and told him that Katja was at work. In truth, I'd no idea where she was, but at the university seemed like a good guess. Then followed some senseless banter because I don't think that either of us knew what the other was talking about. (Before you start getting any ideas, that doesn't happen to me that often.)

"Where is she?"
"At work."
"But where?"
"Where she works!"

Finally, I see Katja running up to the house; she seemed to recognize this bedragled character immediately. She'd hired him for some gardening work and he'd also sharpened our knives with some of his fancy tools.

I switched out for lamb brains. can you tell? me neither.

I also made this other pâté, basically. It's supposed to sit in your mushrooms and you're supposed to dehydrate them for 4hrs. Raw foodz is complicated.

this photo makes me feel like such a poser, but I like it.

Simon and his mom are the US this week. I miss the little dude already! The house is quiet and I'm the only one making a mess.

Raw Regrets?

2008-09-23T08:41:00.000-07:00

I know that some real raw foodist probably wants to chop me up like a fresh tomato for my ignorant statements made here, but the chances seem slim, so oblivious raving away!

Here is a kinda gazpacho thing that I made yesterday. Basically carrots, tomato and some other stuff ground up in the blender. I tried to make it spicy by adding some fresh pepper things that I got from our local Turkish market. It was tasty, but, you know... cold.

My goal this week is to make raw brownies. There's instructions out there somewhere for that.

appetizing? or is this what it'd look like if an alien burst out of your stomach (minus the garnish)?

I got lots of nuts at the store today. I know that you can make some really nice, rich sauces with pine and cashew nuts. They aren't roasted, but I'm sure that they aren't officially raw. I bet they were boiled in the process of removing the shells. I read that it's pretty impossible to find raw cashiews, for instance. But honestly, how much can one be bothered? This kinda shiz is expensive, too.

I also know from that silly vegan forum that I visit that lots of raw foodists are not 100% raw. A lot rest around the 80% mark of consumed raw calories. I'm allowing myself somma dat and drinking coffee and tea, otherwise I think I'd die. I'm an addict and proud. No (more) beer, though. That's just not fair. Sometimes, though, life is unfair.

Dates are my new best friend

2008-09-22T03:03:00.001-07:00

I made this zucchini bread yesterday. I'd had so much stuff for my Sunday planned... I was gonna meet some CSers in Düsseldorf, teach this aupair that I know how to ride a bike, go to Aachen, study German, bake bread.... Well, the last two things got done.

Someone on theppk gave me this recipe and it really appealed to me because there's a bloody plethera of zucchini involved, but, just as she warned, it doesn't stick together very well. I'll give it another shot next week.

pig fork! I really wish I had a manual focus camera.

You know how when you tell people that you're vegan and they think that all you eat are twigs and berries and maybe some bark, if you manage to scavange it? Okay, you probably don't, but I do and what's more is that this is how I imagine raw foodists eat. For the moment, dates are my new best friend.

Cake Bake Betty

2008-09-20T09:26:00.000-07:00

I like the music of Cake Bake Betty. There is no other reason for that to be the subject of this blog post.

Okay, I have goals for this coming week:
1) put 0.20 Euro cents in a jar or bag every time I talk out loud to myself. Even when I'm alone. I don't think it's a good habit.

2) put 0.10 Euro cents in a jar or bag every time I swear. I said the fuck word today in front of my host mother and Simon while on the phone with someone. Don't worry, that wasn't 10cents (yet).

3) I'm finally going to do a raw week! I'm determined! There's all sorts of cool, raw recipes out there that I've never tried because I don't do the raw thing. Like zucchini pasta. I bought some healthy kinda things for it today, but mostly I'm probably going to eat boring stuff like what the Meerschweinschen eat. Still, I may get a chance to cross "Green Smoothie" off my Vegan's 100 list.

And now this is published, so I can't go back on my word.

What's the part of a lab procedure that you guess what is going to happen? Is it simply titled the "hypothesis"? Well, here is my hypothesis for numbers one and two of my goals.
1) €7.80
2) €1.40

I'm not sure what's crazier; that I talk aloud to myself that much, that I'm stupid enough to tell people that I do so, or my method of trying to break this habit. Hopefully it's just entertaining. That's what we Americans love to do: entertain.

And what will that money go to at the end of the week? I'll consider the matter as the days pass by, but it'll probably end up being spent on beer.

The Vegan's Hundred

2008-09-18T02:45:00.000-07:00

I was going to bake bread to impress y'all, but that won't happen 'till later today, so I'll probably blog about it tomorrow. This little list started on The Bittersweet Blog.

1) You're supposed to copy this list to your own blog, but whatever.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Post a comment here once you’ve finished and link your post back to this one.
5) Pass it on!(or not)

1. Natto
2. Green Smoothie
3. Tofu Scramble I have had this!
4. Haggis
5. Mangosteen
6. Creme brulee
7. Fondue
8. Marmite/Vegemite like ambrosia
9. Borsht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Nachos
12. Authentic soba noodles
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Taco from a street cart
16. Boba Tea
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Gyoza
20. Vanilla ice cream
21. Herloom Tomato
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Ceviche
24. Rice and beans
25. Knish
26. Raw scotch bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Caviar
29. Baklava
30. Pate
31. Wasabi peas
32. Chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Mango lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Mulled cider
37. Scones with buttery spread and jam
38. Vodka jelly
39. Gumbo
40. Fast food french fries
41. Raw Brownies
42. Fresh Garbanzo Beans
43. Dahl
44. Homemade Soymilk
45. Wine from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more champagne counts, right?
46. Stroopwafle
47. Samosas
48. Vegetable Sushi
49. Glazed doughnut
50. Seaweed
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Tofurkey
54. Sheese
55. Cotton candy
56. Gnocchi
57. Piña colada
58. Birch beer
59. Scrapple
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Soy curls
63. Chickpea cutlets
64. Curry
65. Durian
66. Homemade Sausages
67. Churros, elephant ears, or funnel cake
68. Smoked tofu and I pass it by in the biomarkt all the time! what gives?
69. Fried plantain
70. Mochi
71. Gazpacho I am gazpachio- oh! I am a summer soup- Mm!
72. Warm chocolate chip cookies
73. Absinthe
74. Corn on the cob
75. Whipped cream, straight from the can
76. Pomegranate
77. Fauxstess Cupcake that was a great thanksgiving
78. Mashed potatoes with gravy
79. Jerky oh! I miss Wildwood and the vegan jerky!
80. Croissants
81. French onion soup
82. Savory crepes
83. Tings damn you, Andreas for eating my gift from CA!
84. A meal at Candle 79
85. Moussaka
86. Sprouted grains or seeds
87. Macaroni and “cheese”
88. Flowers
89. Matzoh ball soup Tim, do you remember this?
90. White chocolate
91. Seitan
92. Kimchi
93. Butterscotch chips
94. Yellow watermelon
95. Chili with chocolate
96. Bagel and Tofutti
97. Potato milk
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee ?
100. Raw cookie dough

EDA: so, I've officially gotten almost nothing done today. damn those days with little to do!

Also, I feel like I should get bonus points for having made a lot of these things from scratch. Like seitan and donuts.

Two Poems

2008-09-17T04:22:00.000-07:00

The Man He Killed

Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have set us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!

But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.

I shot him dead because--
Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
That's clear enough; although

He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Off-hand like--just as I--
Was out of work--had sold his traps--
No other reason why.

Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat, if met where any bar is,
Or help to half a crown.

-Thomas Hardy

photo because there should be

I really love this poem. I was thinking about it recently; don't know why. The last stanza reminds me of "All Quiet on the Western Front." I really love the stuttering explanation at the begining of the third stanza. Also, as per usual with Hardy, I adore the language that he uses. What do you like about it?

yup. pretty much

next to of course god america i

"next to of course god america i
love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country 'tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?"

He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water

-e. e. cummings

This one is also an old favorite. Cummings' use (or rather lack therof) of grammar gives his writing a unique tempo. The ending is so sharp and tough in comparison to the heart-felt lines above.

I really don't know why I've been thinking about these two poems. Now that I've re-read them, I see how similar they are in subject. Well, what do you think? Do they speak to you? And if so, how? Do you have a favorite line from either?

Sex! Now I'm just two people short of a ménage à trois.

2008-09-16T07:12:00.000-07:00

We get this weekly magazine at home called Der Stern. It's kind of a middle/ right wing news magazine that covers relevant topics in a digestable manner. So, lots of pictures. This had this as a cover:

Here is the article featured on the cover.

One morning, I came upstairs, still foggy-eyed, and sat down at the dining room table with my host father, the boys, and my tea. Somewhat blindly, I reached out in front of me for something to read between hot sips of Earl Grey and there it was: a family magazine covered in illustrations of tiny naked people demonstrating positions in the Kama Sutra. I was appauled that it could be sitting in plain sight of a child and teenager, recieving no discernable attention from anyone at the table.

When tidying up later that day, I piled up the newspaper, mail and magzine so that the magazine rested inconspicuously underneath everything, but also so one could see the logo in the top left corner. That way, I thought, if anyone wished to read about John McCain, the new VW Golf or, you know, SEX, she could. Later on that evening, I saw that same stack, but with Der Stern clearly sitting on top of the pile. I'm sure that at the sight of it I blushed, but there was no one around to see.

This last week's Stern was just another assurance that "Yep. I'm in Europe," and also a little kick in the ass reminding me that I'm not as Euro as I'd like to think myself to be.

Taboo

2008-09-15T06:02:00.000-07:00

Today in Deutchkurs we talked about cultural things as we're all from different nations around the world, but mostly from countries in the middle east and eastern europe. (I'm, yet again, North America represent!) One thing that all the arabic folks have in common in regards to cultural taboo is the necessity of respect towards elders*. They love to reference this in contrast to Deutschland, where they believe all the German children are terribly ill behaved. It came to my attention today, however, that our teacher, who is definately older than all of us, is always fighting to speak over the same group of women, all of whom don the muslim headscarves.

*I first spelled that "eldars," but caught it in the proof-read. All the same, respect your trees as well, kids!