Happy Birthday, Amma

Amma (mother, in Tamil) and I have had a long-standing tradition that on my birthday, we celebrate both the person who's been alive another year (the birthday boy), and the person who got him there in the first place (the mother). It's a good tradition, and one that the ravages of distance and time have not managed to kill off. Now that my mother is on the other side of the country (and for anyone who's familiar with the sheer size of the USA, will know that it might as well be the other side of the planet), we continue the tradition over the phone, which is just as nice, because there are fewer distractions.

That being said, I'm preemptively making this post, because I know Amma reads this thing, so that in case the unthinkable happens, and I manage to astoundingly bungle what really is my favourite part of my birthday celebration (due to being too tired after work, or not charging the phone, or something else equally annoying and dumb), I will have at the very least made it clear that the first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning at 5:30 (after the initial thoughts of "ACK! BATHROOM!") was indeed my mother. However, because she's like three hours behind, I'm not about to wake up the entire house to call her at that ungodly hour. Especially not when my nephew is likely sleeping, and getting woken up by the phone is Not To Be Considered.

It's strange. I've had an inexplicable dread of hitting this particular milestone for a while now. I'm 30. Ugh. Even writing it makes me uneasy. But here it is, and I might as well admit to the old age that I've been cultivating since the age of 5. One of my aunts mentioned (in an amused tone, for the record), ages ago, that I was in equal turns an unabashed young child, and a 75 year old man at the same time. So. Here I am. 30 years old.

I've met (and married and stayed together with) the sort of man who I used to think only existed in sappy romance novels. I've written and had published my first book. I'm working at a place where I enjoy the fruits of my labour, and the challenges excite rather than drag down. I've got some pretty close friends who enjoy spending time with me. I've got a comfortable little home in a city I love dearly. I've managed to get rid of most of my major vices, and have reeled in any that I haven't given up completely (I'm not trying out for sainthood).

There are definitely things that I still want to do, that I still look forward to being able to do. But I've got plenty of time for those. It's not like I'm 30 or something.

Oh wait.

If I'm being perfectly honest with myself, the outpouring of love and good wishes from family (my sister called and left a voicemail at 12:30 AM last night, while I slept, and thereby managed to be the first to wish me, which she promptly followed with an email; her husband emailed shortly after that) really is life-affirming. I love that I inspire good feelings towards me, and that people want me to be happy. I've also gotten some lovely emails from fans who've been around since day one, from the before time when I was just a voice on a podcast, or a few words on the screen.

Thanks to Amma for my birthday, as always. Thanks to all my friends and family and fans who have sent over their lovely words of support and love. Thanks to my angel husband who still somehow enjoys my company. It's a good time to be 30. 

Veganacious Interview

A few weeks ago, the lovely Barbara Degrande asked me to be on her show, Veganacious. We didn't strictly talk about food (although there was gratuitous food chat going on). She had to spend a fair bit of time editing the thing, because we both got so caught up in having our conversation, that we lost track of time, and the thing ended up rambling and roaming a lot.
Download here!

Tradition!

I was having a discussion with my friend Kate when she was over here enjoying some food I had just cooked. She mentioned that even though she is vegan, she still has a soft spot for those things that she enjoyed eating when she was growing up. Food has powerful connections to it, above and beyond nourishment. Those foods you ate as a child that gave you comfort will hold a powerful connection for you. However, as Kate mentioned so eloquently, "Just because I want to still enjoy that food doesn't mean that someone else should have to suffer for it." Well put, Kate. So she, in her home, tends to actively seek out omni subs all the time, and is on a quest to recreate those memories, textures, tastes, and feelings while still holding true to her moral convictions.

Mind you, Kate isn't "one of those". Her spice cabinet is very well stocked. Her mind (and mouth) are both open to new experiences. When she was here, I was cranking out random weird South Indian dishes that most people hadn't heard of before (because most Indian restaurants focus on North Indian dishes), and she was cheerfully eating them. She absolutely loves vegetables of every shape and size. She takes genuine pleasure in all foods, be they the memories of yesterday, or experiments of the present and future. 

I said all that to share this story with you. My friend Joanna's husband Mark comes from a very large family in upstate New York. They're a rather close-knit family, headed by one of the sweetest matriarchs you could ever hope to meet. I would like to introduce you to the gentle, the kind, the ever-patient Suzanne. She sent me a message on 25 March. I'll let her say it in her own words. 

Hi, Dino. Mark's mom here. I have a vegan cooking question, and thought you might be able to help me. For years I have made a pineapple torte for our Easter dinner. The recipe uses gelatin, but now that we have several vegan/vegetarian family members, I'm trying to find an alternative that will still set nicely while not compromising the convictions of my loved ones. Any suggestions? Thanks so much in advance for any assistance you can give me. I hope we'll able to meet both you and Stephen on one of our next visits to Mark and Joanna.

I got a little misty-eyed, but was overall rather touched by her desire to respect the morals of her children. I thought that was a wonderful thought.

Hi Suzanne, Clearly, you are even more compassionate and kind than even your wonderful sons and daughter-in-law have mentioned! What a lovely way to continue traditions, but make everyone feel included! I have such an incredible amount of respect and warm feelings towards you and your family, because of the love that you all share with each other, and this is just one more example of that love. Thank you for reaching out to me. Mark and Joanna talk about you all the time, and about how what a pleasure it is to be in your presence. I hope to some day share in that too! 

I have found that agar tends to replace gelatine quite closely, though not exactly. It'll get very close, though. The Japanese have a long tradition of making vegan gelatine desserts, which they call Kanten. It seems like it's fairly pricey (and it is), but a little goes a long way. At work, we buy the stuff by the pound, and it lasts a long time. 

The beauty of agar is that if it ends up too firm (as it will do the first time you use it), you can melt it down and it sets right up again! I was so amazed by this that I thought that my boss was pulling a cheat on me somehow, but sure enough, it worked out when I tried it myself too! Who knew, right? As with anything where you're working with new ingredients, experiment with a little bit first, to see how the stuff behaves. 

Most of the Internet swears up and down that you can use it interchangeably with the amounts you'd use for gelatine, but I don't think that's the case, from how we've used it at work. I've found it especially effective in baking, when I want a bit of firming up, without adding cornstarch, and keeping the gel jewel-clear. For example, when making the cherry topping for the vegan cheesecakes we make at work, agar makes the fruit stay put. When you have finished setting up the agar (it sets up at room temperature, for the record, so no need to refrigerate unless you want to hurry it along), it'll stay solid for a long time. I remember using agar when I was running gel electrophoresis in genetics lab. It was endlessly amusing to see how the stuff held its shape no matter what you threw at it! Hope this helps a bit in your cooking adventures!
Dino

It had taken me a day or so to respond, because I had to double-check with my boss if pineapple would inhibit the setting up of agar, as it does when you put it into a cheesecake. Apparently, it doesn't.

Thanks, Dino, for your gracious reply. I really appreciate the time you gave to my question. Daniel located some agar in Rochester , and it will be a family experience making the torte together this year. (We live in a very rural area, and ingredient choices are not very broad here.) My husband has been very unwell, as you may know, and is facing his first of five surgeries this coming Monday. I'm so thankful that all of the children can cook, as I will be arriving very late the night before Easter. We'll all put the dessert together as soon as I arrive. Just gotta keep those traditions going! Thanks for helping us to do just that. Take care, Suzanne

I didn't realise what a rough time her family was going through. It was even more poignant that she was still thinking about everyone's comfort, in spite of having so much on her mind already.

So then, I rambled back, to maybe help take her mind off of things for a bit. Also, I kind of wanted to keep the correspondence going, because I wanted to know if the dessert worked out well for everyone.

Sounds good, Suzanne! Please let me know how it all turns out. Also, please have Daniel do a test run to make sure that the whole thing does set up. Few things are quite as disappointing as the grand finale being anything but. If it doesn't work, I can email Daniel something vegan that he can knock up quickly. I've had to do the same to gallop in and save dessert on more times than I care to remember. Seriously, there have been some nights.  

Like the one time that I had my dear friend Ricardo coming over for dinner, and he asked if he could bring a friend. No harm, no foul, right? I just add more water into the pasta pot, ready to feed both of 'em. About 20 minutes before arrival, Ricardo lets me know she's gluten free. D'oh! Thankfully, I had the rice pasta from Chinatown in my pantry, and I figured that today was the day to use the thing. 

Or the many times I've been to Joanna and Mark's house, and got a request for dessert. I'm not a baker, y'see. I just know a couple of recipes that're fool proof, that I keep in the back of my brain, in case of dessert emergencies. Like the apple lingonberry crisp I made for those two when I think Daniel and Andrew were visiting. That came out fantastic. Or the Lemon Poppyseed cake. Man, was that good! 

Funny story about the lemon poppyseed cake. I was flat on my back, having over-indulged the night before (in an effort to keep Mark at home, so that Joanna could go to the store to "get more beer" [when she was really going to pick up Daniel and Andrew]). I basically dictated the recipe, and the specific instructions to the gang, while running an online interview that I'd promised to do months before. It was the most hilarious thing (looking back), because there I am, hollering highly specific instructions to the kitchen, while trying to type to my interviewer at the same time. For the record, the cake was delicious. Thanks again for reaching out. I appreciate getting to know the families of my friends better. I wish your husband a speedy recovery. Dino

It took a while, because that was around when Easter hit, and things got crazy busy for everyone. However, I got back some very good news when the dust all settled on both sides.

So, Dino, the torte was perfect! Thanks so much for your assistance. I was sooo happy that everyone in the family could continue to enjoy one of our holiday traditions. You're the best! PS...Mark, Joanna, Drew, and Daniel have had amazing things to say about the food you've cooked for them, as well as good things to share about you and Steven. Seems like you have a knack for multitasking.

Score! The point is, to this whole long rambling tale, that we do still have those foods that mean more to us than the specific ingredients in them. There are traditions, there are memories, and there are all kinds of other things tied into those things. When you start on a vegan lifestyle, you sometimes have to tweak those traditions, and make them into new traditions, so that you still connect with your family and friends over those things, while still holding true to your moral convictions.

Again, to reiterate: it's not fair to judge everyone who tries a mock meat thing, or an omnisub thing as "one of those lazy vegans who just lives off of boxed food". Daniel and Drew were quite adventurous eaters too. When they were visiting Mark and Joanna, I made all kinds of varied things, which they eat with great gusto. They're both capable of cooking, and cooking well.

But sometimes, they just want a little taste of home, mom, and pineapple torte.

Making a Killing and much more

Animal (human and nonhuman animals) rights activist Bob Torres's long-awaited book, Making a Killing: The Political Economy of Animal Rights finally arrived today, and we're looking forward to plunging in headfirst. From the website at AK Press:

Suggest to the average leftist that animals should be part of broader liberation struggles and—once they stop laughing—you'll find yourself casually dismissed. With a focus on labor, property, and the life of commodities, Making a Killing contains key insights into the broad nature of domination, power, and hierarchy. It explores the intersections between human and animal oppressions in relation to the exploitative dynamics of capitalism. Combining nuts-and-bolts Marxist political economy, a pluralistic anarchist critique, as well as a searing assessment of the animal rights movement, Bob Torres challenges conventional anti-capitalist thinking and convincingly advocates for the abolition of animals in industry—and on the dinner plate.
Making A Killing is sure to spark wide debate in the animal rights and anarchist movements for years to come.

Bingo. It's been a long time coming. Basically, what's been happening thus far is that the widely based movements, such as civil rights, worker's rights, animal rights, and women's rights (to name just a couple) have been struggling on their own, oblivious to the plight of the others. For some reason, people have not made the connection that we are all fighting for the same thing, and allowing our struggle to be coopted by oppressive forces is playing right into the slavery. Finally, someone brings up a critique of how the movements have been waging their battles, and how they can improve.

Go out and get yourself a copy (or request that your local library carry one if you can't afford it!), and be prepared for an excellent read. The reason I know anything at all about it is because Bob and Jenna have been making mention of the book on their podcast called Vegan Freak Radio. Even if you're not traditionally "into" politics, give the book a read for Bob's rather engaging writing style. If you've read his blog, or his other work (such as the book Vegan Freak: Being a Vegan in a Non Vegan World), you'll recognise how he takes complex concepts, and explains them in an accessible manner.

In other news, I get X-Mas off, so Steve and I are going to spend the day together. Most likely, it'll be a quiet dinner in, and maybe a movie or something. We tend to give each other our gifts as soon as we get them for a couple of reasons. For one thing, x-mas isn't my holiday. It means nothing to me. For another, we'd really like to avoid double buying. That is, if Steve wants something for himself, chances are that he'll buy it when he sees it. I do the same. Why should we have double of things? Easier to call immediately, and say, "Hi babe. I got you ______ when I saw it." When your time is measured in minutes, every minute that you're not wasting is precious. And, on top of that, seeing the reaction to the gift immediately, is a pleasure we'd like to experience over and over again. If we saved it all for the day of, it'd only be one set of reactions all in one day. This way, we get to experience the joy of giving many times.

While I'm at it, let me remind you to make copies of your identification cards, and store them some place safe. While you're all out there in the mad rush, things get lost, stolen, or misplaced. Don't take chances. Make the copies now, and be safe. Also, while you're at it, run a backup of important documents and such into your email. Just send it as an email to yourself as an attachment. Gmail provides excellent email capabilities, and is free. Why chance losing your stuff? I've got my documents backed up on three different media devices, but I also put it on email, so that I can pick it up anywhere I go.

Hope everyone has a safe and happy few days off that we're getting (hopefully, you do too!).

Back from CT

I left from New York to go to Connecticut (again!) to see my parents before they went back to Florida. Because plans change all the time, I couldn't be sure when I'd get the chance to see them both in person again, so I figured that Sunday evening was as good a time as any. I jumped on the Metro North train again, and began my journey.

I called my mother to let her know that I was on the way. She let me know that my dad had totalled the car, because of the icy roads. He was going too fast down a curve, and couldn't regain control of the car. Worse, they hit two other parked cars. It was bad. Fortunately, he and my brother-in-law got out of the car without any injuries. The layer of ice on the ground was so thick that you couldn't even walk on it (unless you were wearing cleats or something) without flailing madly, and almost falling to the ground. It was really scary for both of them. They somehow managed to get the demolished car home to my sister's (Radhika) house.

After much shuffling around, they figured that it would be best if my dad didn't drive again (and no voice was a bigger proponent of this position than my dad) for a little while, so my brother-in-law (Raj) took over instead. [Side note: Yes, it really is soo cute that my sister and her husband have alliterative first names! What's even weirder is that his surname is the same initial as my family's surname!] I got there at 8:00, and they reached the New Haven station at 8:30.

NOTE TO CONNECTICUT: Your mass transit SUCKS. It took an additional hour from New Haven to Middletown, where my sister is. And no, I'm not about to spend $12 on a Peter Pan bus. For all that money, Raj or Radhika can come get me from the station. I pay like $14 to get from Manhattan to New Haven. There's really no reason for me to shell out almost that much for a 30 minute drive.

So anyway. The walk to the car was a ... challenge, as the parking lot was extremely slippery, and near impossible to walk on. For my friends in Florida: Imagine you're walking with your shoes on an ice skating rink. Or, that the latest rain storm has sloshed water all over your granite (or other smooth surfaced) tile, and you forgot to wear your flip flops on the way across the living room. Now imagine that there's a layer of oil on top of all of this. Not fun. We got into the (heated!) car, and made the drive out to Radhika's house. It was a relatively slow and uneventful drive, and we chatted about this and that on the way. Dad mentioned something about how all day, Radhika had been complaining about general stomach upsets, and was in a more or less sickly mood, but had immediately perked up when she heard that I was coming for a visit. He also mentioned how my mother postponed her ticket to go to Florida, rather than head back with him on Monday.

We got to their house, and made our slippery way to the door. My mother and sister were sitting on the couch, having a chat. Both were wrapped up fairly snugly. I didn't think that the house was all that cold, but those two seemed to be freezing. Mind you, I was wearing about four layers of clothing and 2 layers of socks under my shoes, but that's immaterial. We got past the hugs, and went on to catch up on whatever has been going on thus far. I, of course, made a beeline to the kitchen, and started grazing. The fridge was, as usual, full of goodies that my mother had cooked, and I wasn't about to delay eating, since she might get upset if I didn't. Yeah, that's it ... upset ...

We're all just having a general good time, and started to wind down around 10:00. My sister excuses herself, and starts making the most hideous noises in the washroom. "Oh my god, what is that?" My mother replied, "That's pretty much how it is all day." So, I flippantly remarked, "Haha, she's pregnant, isn't she?" They all looked shocked, and said, "Wait, you didn't know!?" Apparently, they forgot to let me know. I congratulated them both, and we kept chatting. In essence, the rest of the weekend is a blur, because it was mostly eating, talking to my mother and sister, and lots of sleeping. I left around 5:00 on Tuesday afternoon, to come home to Isabel (my landlady) and Steve doing an early (or is it late?) Spring Cleaning. What a week!

I'm going to be an uncle again.

First Snow on Sunday

Sunday, just before walking out, I asked Steve to lock up behind me, so that I could leave my gloves on. He opened the door for me, and said, "Oh!" In about a second and change, I saw what got him surprised. The first snow.

I don't like snow. Everything was covered in a thick, white blanket of the stuff, and the floor was slightly unstable, as my shoes crunched against the piles of the flakes on the ground. I could see the testament of the little pawed and clawed feet that had passed in the night before on my way to the train.

I stepped into the train, to feel my body finally warm up as the heating kicked in. When I got to work, there was still more snow falling, and now it was drifting onto my face and eyelashes, and melting on the spot from the radiating heat that my body gave off (due to the multiple layers of clothes I had on). It took me another minute of trudging through the veil of snow to get to work, at which point we flipped on the ovens (both to get work done and to get the kitchen warmer). The day progressed at the speed of light, with me learning how Brunch is done at the restaurant. I learned a whole lot, and sat with my fearless leader to hammer out the upcoming schedule. He gave me Monday and Tuesday of this week off, so I decided to take advantage of the consecutive days off. I got out of the train at Union square, and called my mother in Connecticut.

I told her I'd be heading up that night itself, and staying till Tuesday afternoon. She said it'd be fine with her, and that she'd see me when she sees me. My dad would be leaving for Florida on Monday, so I wanted to get in to see him one last time. I got on the Metro North train, and we headed out around 6:00. I promptly fell asleep for most of the rest of the journey. By 7:00, I called my sister's house, and told her that I was getting close. Apparently, my dad had an accident, because the roads were icy to the point of being unable to even walk on it. It crashed and totaled the car he was in, but left the other cars unscratched. Fortunately, it also left him physically untouched. He was shaken (as was my sister's husband), but otherwise, was OK. The two of them headed home, and shuffled around a bit. Finally, they headed out to come get me at the train station. It was only 30 minutes after I arrived at the station that they got in to get me back, but this means that it's already 8:30.

We made it to my sister's house around 9 and change. I had something to eat, chatted with the family for a couple of hours, and promptly at 30 minutes past midnight, felt tired and ready to sleep. And, of course, this means that I wouldn't be waking up till noon the next day, by which point my dad would have left. So I guess our goodbyes on the night before would have to suffice.

I'll be here in CT tomorrow as well as today, and should be back in NY by Wednesday. Be safe, because those conditions are really dodgy.

Cooking in New York City, Baby! and other stuff.

While listening to the beautiful, intelligent, well spoken and talented Ms Colleen Patrick Goudreau (and if you haven't done so yet, go out and subscribe to her podcast via iTunes now, please), I jumped on the L train headed to Manhattan. I disembarked from the train, and tried to locate the #@$#ing knife sharpening store that I had located on the Googles. As has been the case this entire day, the search was utterly fruitless, and it was only because of Ms Colleen's voice that I kept from swearing loudly and colourfully.

But that's neither here nor there. No, the purpose of the story is to update you all on my adventures in New York City. Anycow, I was wandering the streets, and finally made it into Sacred Chow, on Sullivan Street in Greenwich Village. It took me an hour to find it, because I kept going in the wrong direction. According to the pedometer on my phone, I walked around 20.2 km yesterday, and a goodly 15.1 km today. New Yorkers really walk everywhere, and it looks like I've become accustomed to this new way of thinking.

Just one more minor digression, and we'll be back to today's updates. Yesterday, we hung out at two vegan lesbians' house and cooked at the end of the day. What an outstanding way to spend spare time! We had so much fun hammering out a meagre 4 dishes (which I made in large quantity to make up for the lack of variety), chatting, laughing, joking, and all the requisite things that good friends can do together. The funny thing is that this was the fist time we'd met! I encourage all you vegans to get into each other's homes, and cook together. Sharing that meal makes the eating an event, rather than a regular daily occurrence, even if that meal is simple (like the one we shared last night). We made a lentil soup, a vegetable soup, some Unslaw (from the cookbook), and Indian roasted potatoes. There was also some rice, of course.

So I made it to Sacred Chow for my ... Wait for it ... Wait for it: Interview.

Which I thought would be for a server position (I would do anything to get my foot in the door of a vegan restaurant).

But the owner wants me cooking.

We chatted for the better part of an hour and forty five minutes. We chatted about food, cooking philosophy, my getting over my fear of omni subs and trying out new things (because they were yummy), my mother, my mother's influence on my cooking, my mother's legacy to me (the love of cooking). We talked about events that we could have at the restaurant, about work schedules on busy days and empty days, about ideas that I had for new recipes, new presentations, new ways of getting bodies into our seats.

We talked about his beautiful son (he's 5). About his son's cavities. About his lack of cavities. We talked about Steve, and how much Steve supports me in every way, every day, and makes me utterly revel in creation, rather than living each day. We spoke about having respect for all life, and reflecting one's daily journey in that respect.

We joked about the heat of the summer causing us to want to shed the clothes and go back to nature. We discussed Ethiopian food. We talked South Indian fusion food (which I love to make of course). I told him about cooking with my friends in Jersey, and how I plan on going back to do so on the 25th of this month. I told him my dreams, my hopes, my desires to be a vegan chef. He told me of his vision for the place, of his hopes, his dreams, his desires.

In short, rather than having an interview, I feel that I have made a friend. It is my sincerest desire that I get to work there as the fantabulous vegan chef that I have waiting to come out and play. That being said, I think it's even more important that I met such a compassionate, kind, loving soul, and made a connection with a like-minded being. It was such a revelation of what a job should be like.

After that, feeling fairly giddy on the wings of having met a new friend, I wandered off to seek yet another store that was supposed to be able to sharpen the knives. No luck again. I walked up a few blocks to yet ANOTHER place. Nothing. I'm going to have to try my luck tomorrow at the Chelsea Market, and hope for the best. This severely sucks.

It can't however, take away my elation at the thought of being a vegan chef! There would have been hundreds of people who apply to get in to work at Sacred Chow, but I got it! I feel like I've truly arrived in the city now, and that I have a life here.

Back from CT

On Tuesday afternoon, I made a quick trip out to Connecticut to visit with my mother, father, sister, and brother-in-law. To say that it was quiet out there in CT would be horribly understating the sheer deafening quiet that pervaded everything. The only noises you'd hear were the footsteps of people walking about in the house, and the wind gushing all over ... whatever it is that wind gushes all over.

Suffice to say, I was going out of my head, because that level of quiet feel unnatural to me. There weren't any sirens, neighbours chatting on their front porches, dogs barking, cats fighting, parties going, cars zooming by, or any of the other normal noises of a city. Instead, you'd hear the occasional squirrel skittering off to do its squirrely business, and that's only if you were outdoors.

That being said, there were a lot of trees. Let me treet you to the variety. (hah!)









On the train, there was this sign about being cautious of the gap between the train itself, and the platform. For whatever reason, the icon they used to depict this amused me to no end. For any of you who've ridden the MTA CT to NY train, you'll recognise this immediately.


Aside from that was the food. Ever since my sister started college, she'd started compiling cooking techniques. For me, cooking is easy, because I was at my mother's knee the whole time that she was in the kitchen, performing her magic. I'd watch what she did avidly, and later try to replicate it on my own. Many burned pots later, it'd come out just so, and I would interpret the dish in my own way.

My sister, on the other hand, wasn't that much of a kitchen person. For her to have picked up cooking the way she did (via many frantic, panicked phone calls to my mother) is a great accomplishment, and I'm very proud of her. She's become quite accomplished at making uppuma, and rasam. Other than that, she can do a lemon rice in her sleep, or a cocoanut rice with a little motherly advice. Either way, she'd quite good at what she does. The reason we don't have photos of her food is because we ate it all before I got a chance to snap a few shots off.

Oh yeah. And dosa. Both my mother and sister are adept at churning out a perfect dosa lightning quick, at any time of day or night. That was quite a treat, let me tell you. Having fresh, piping hot dosa directly from the frying pan is a treat that must be experienced at least once in your life.

Today, I'm meeting with a person that Steve introduced me to via email. We'll be discussing how to cook for a huge group of people on $75. They haven't seen what I can do yet!

Public Service Announcement

My mom called me on Saturday afternoon to tell me that dad's wallet was lost. It was late on a Saturday, and Steve and I were out. Shipping would be, to say the least, a little pricey. Cue the mad dash of madness.

Since the US Postal offices were already well past closed at that point, the only other option would be to ship it with a different carrier, like DHL or FedEx. Meanwhile, none of them had a clue as to how expensive this can be. Take it from someone who's made some pretty big messes in his life that it's not cheap. DHL's 10 AM service alone is like $80 on a weekday. This was a Saturday night, and they'd need it before their 9:00 AM flight on Tuesday. There are just some chances you don't take.

They filed the police report, but would be unable to pick it up until Monday, when the station had regular business hours. Meanwhile, a call to the airlines revealed that there was a fair bit of other ... stuff to be done before he could get on the plane, so could they please show up a couple of hours ahead of time? As it is, you already need to be at the airport two or three hours early, to get through security and the rest. Whoof. This was going to be a challenge.

By hook or crook, I managed to contact a family friend, dash over to his place, and scan my dad's passport. I got it on my flash drive, took it home, and sent it in an email. My parents went ahead and took a colour print of the copies, and were ready to bring it on Tuesday before their flight.

The wallet turned up on Monday.

A jogger had seen it on the road, and took it to the station. Fortunately, all the money was still in there, and the guy was honest enough to leave it all in there. None of the cards were fussed with, and everything was in order. My parents managed to pick it up from the station on Monday afternoon. Bear in mind that from Saturday though Monday afternoon both my parents were on edge, because this was NOT a pleasant prospect (i.e., getting new bank, credit, and social security card) to face. Then calling the credit bureaus, and putting up a fraud alert. Then hoping against hope that someone doesn't steal his identity. It would have been an epic disaster.

My mom and I talked this morning, and she said that now that they have the copy of his passport, that they'd be making copies of the rest of that stuff. A thought struck me at that moment. What if that'd been me? I'm leaving to New York in a week, and don't know what I'd do if I lost my ID and credit cards. I don't even have the phone numbers for all those cards to call them. That in itself would take a while to sort out. Then I'd have to figure out how to handle the rest of it. Meanwhile, I'm a USA citizen. To have my stuff stolen would be a major head ache, because my information would go for a fair bit of money.

I told my mom that I had to go, and explained that I'd be going to make the copies NOW. I went in, scanned the front and back of my credit cards, then took a scan of my passport. I emailed it to myself, and have it for safe keeping. Please please do this as well. Have it there for yourself should anything ever happen to your cards. It's just nice to know that you have options.

Moving ramble: not for the easily bored.

If you're bored by my ramblings about moving, just keep going. Maybe read the veganfaq.blogspot.com for something more interesting and definitely more enlightening than my whinging. Either way, it's here so that I have some record of moving, and so that Steve can grant me a firm kick in the bottom if I ever suggest moving again. Onwards then!

So here we are, with a mountain of crap that we've managed to accumulate over the past year and change. Tonnes of clothes, lots of baubles, random books, books that aren't so random, accessories, and more stuff that I'm ashamed to admit. My mother rustled up some Club cookware, which I feel hideous leaving behind, as I've wanted to cook with it since forever, but was saving it for when I move. My set of Henckel knives that I got as a gift from Steve's brother (and sister—both bought us a set) that have served me so well. It's just about that time to get them sharpened anyway, but the lovely lady who's renting us the place has generously offered the use of her kitchen.

There's also a small mountain of miscellaneous crap that's sitting around and gathering dust. I can't take all those books with me, because I literally don't have the space in my suitcases. But what about that tome that I have for using Creative Suite 2? I read that damn thing constantly. I also have autographed copies of some books that I can't let go, because they came from friends.

Aside from all of that, however, I'm LAZY! I don't feel like going through that huge pile of stuff, and sorting it out and getting it into boxes. Boo. I can't exactly ask Steve to tackle it, because he doesn't get home until past 7:00 anyway. I know that when this is all over, I'll look back and laugh, but for now, it just feels good to whine. >_<

My mom and I chatted ...

And she's going to Seattle today to visit my second brother there. She's been looking forward to the trip, although she is very nervous that things won't go right either in terms of the food situation, or a million other things that could go wrong. We caught up on all sorts of little things, and my phone promptly died. Of course it only died after we'd wrapped everything up, but there you are.

Seattle has a very active Food Not Bombs community, where they distribute food three times a week (according to mom), and even have a "Free Market", where people can come and take produce away for free. It's a pretty cool concept, I'd say, to have food that would have been wasted being given out to all takers. Meanwhile, the store gets a fat tax write-off for the donation, so everyone wins in the end. :)

New York is looming large, and I'm nervous because I still haven't bothered to pack. Of course I haven't packed yet; doing so would mean that I'm organised and have my stuff together. Such is not the case, of course. We'll see where it goes, hmm?

Last night, when I got home, I started to unwind. I had a quick snack, I lay down for a bit, and had a fast catnap. Finally, around 6:00 (an hour before Steve gets home), I had a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. I ran out of my room, and checked the fridge.

It was empty.

So there I was, trying to figure out what to make. The first thing I did, which I always do in moments of food crises, is make a pot of rice immediately. The rice cooker is a wonderful tool in taking care of that little step without my worrying about it. I have one of those basic models with a removable pot, a lid, and an on/off button. It keeps the rice warm, but doesn't DING when it's done. Like I said, it's a very basic model, but it does the job every time. That barely took me a minute or two to throw down. Then, I foraged around for vegetables. And realised that we didn't bother buying any, because we'd be leaving over the weekend.

Drat.

Fortunately for me, there are a couple of staples I always have on hand: tomatoes (either tinned or fresh, depending), onions, and garlic. That holy trinity is never far from anywhere I am, because it forms the baseline of so many dishes. Tonight, it would have to be a dish! Fortunately, I have the recipe for Tomato Rice memorised from making it so many times (I hope you're getting the point that I'm not always together when it comes to planning things out on time), and started in on chopping the vegetables, starting with the onions. Once the spices were popped, in went the onions. Once they had a couple of minutes to cook (I was on a time crunch here), I threw in the tomatoes, and let them simmer for a while. By the time they were mostly done, Steve walked in earlier than I'd expected. I sent him out on a really quick errand while I finished things off. By the time he got back (it took him only five minutes), the food was ready, and I could relax again.

Dinner was served.