Eight thousand words about this weekend.

Weekend in Toronto.  Adorable children.  Time with family.  Super fun wedding.

A picture is worth a thousand words.  So here's eight thousand.

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She melts my frosty winter heart.

It's a wet, dreary "spring" Monday here in Boston.  But it makes me warm and happy to be reminded of our recent trip to visit my niece.

Go ahead, weather, do what you gotta do.  I've got all the sunshine I need.

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Reason #830 my sister cracks me up

Your eyes are not deceiving you: that is one GIANT bowl of pho.  My sister accompanied four of her friends as they took on the Pho Real Challenge, which apparently involves eating a trough of meat and noodles in under an hour.

I love pho, but I've vicariously had my fill after watching these guys.  That's right . . . my sister documented the insanity on video.  Watch with an empty stomach.

Read the play-by-play at her blog here.

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新年快樂!

Happy Year of the Rabbit from our Chewish household to yours!

It's been a busy week at work, so I haven't had much of a chance to decorate for the New Year yet.  But here's a photo of our bunny giving her best "bitch, please" face while guarding the money tree.  May your bunny year be prosperous, healthy, and memorable!

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Not your human's food truck

My sister, the intrepid reporter, has a new expose out on the newest addition to the food truck phenomena: mobile treats for pets.

Go check it out and tell her how awesome she is.  Also, Jellyby would like an ice-cream sandwich.

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My Hanukkah Present

This is my niece's first Hanukkah, which, while probably not that exciting for her (she's pretty psyched with a bottle and a tummy tickle), was super exciting for her aunt and uncle.

For weeks I've been thinking of all the adorable, over-the-top Hanukkah presents I could get her.  Perhaps she needs a pair of baby Manolos?  Or a chic Dior onesie?  And I know they make "denim" diapers, but do they make Citizens for Humanities baby jeggings?

Then I thought to myself, "Self, perhaps it would be better not to pass on your shallow, label-loving ways to your niece?  Perhaps, just perhaps, it would be preferable to transmit to her more positive, transcendent values?"

But what presents actually communicate such values?  After much thought, we decided that rather than just giving her material presents, we'd correlate them to the less tangible gifts with which we hope she'd be blessed for a lifetime.  We wished her:

• for the first day of Hanukkah, the gift of tradition (correlated with a personalized menorah)
• for the second day of Hanukkah, the gifts of inspiration and creativity (correlated with a box of Hanukkah candles)
• for the third day of Hanukkah, the gift of love (correlated with a picture frame with a photo of her whole family)
• for the fourth day of Hanukkah, the gifts of knowledge, wisdom, and curiosity (correlated with the most adorable pop-up book, Chanukah Bugs: A Pop-Up Celebration)
• for the fifth day of Hanukkah, the gifts of fun and a sense of adventure (correlated with darling little sneaker socks)
• for the sixth day of Hanukkah, the gifts of comfort and happiness (correlated with a Wubbanub, on the recommendation of blog friend Sara)
• for the seventh day of Hanukkah, the gifts of charity, empathy, and tikkun olam (the Jewish concept of "healing the world") (correlated with a donation in her name to Mazon, a hunger-relief organization)
• for the eighth day of Hanukkah, the gift of remembrance, of all the relatives and loved ones who physically or metaphysically couldn't be with her on this special holiday (correlated with a package of post-its . . . because it wouldn't be Hanukkah without at least one stinker of a gift!)

None of these gifts are particularly expensive, but we hope that they -- especially the intangible ones -- will have a more lasting impact on her.  Also, I was thinking that perhaps we could create a tradition by giving her presents that correlate with those particular values each year.

If you celebrate Hanukkah, what meaningful gifts have you given or received this year?

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Happy Thanksgiving!

This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for, among other things, the invention of elastic waist pants.

Happy Thanksgiving from our household to yours!

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My sister's impressive package

You couldn't not read this post with that title, right?  Ha!  Well, get your mind out of the gutter, because I'm referring to my sister's recent . . . ahem . . . body of work.

It's hard to believe, but my little sister is now a bona fide reporter, having begun her masters in broadcast journalism at the Annenberg School of Communication and Journalism at U.S.C.  As part of their training, she and her colleagues research, produce, film, edit, and narrate short pieces.  Here's her "package" on the newly enacted Los Angeles ordinance requiring the inspection and grading of food trucks:

I swear it was just yesterday that I was teaching her how to speak English without a FOB accent.

Wait, I think that was yesterday.

Anyhow, if you think her package is impressive, go visit her blog, "I Eat Therefore I Am," and tell her so.

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A chocolate-licious birthday for my husband!

A certain somebody turned 35 today.  And that's worth making the most decadent cake ever -- chocolatey, not too sweet, with a subtle trace of coffee flavor.

The recipe is Ina Garten's.  It can't be an easier recipe to follow (just don't forget to add baking soda, as I did the first time).  And your spouse will swoon with happiness, and your guests will lick their forks and the cake plate when they think you're not looking.

Double Chocolate Layer Cake

• 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
• 2 cups sugar
• 3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 2 large eggs
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1 cup freshly brewed hot coffee
• Frosting
• 6 ounces semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
• 2 sticks (1/2 pound) unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 1 large egg yolk
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1 cup plus 1 tablespoon confectioners' sugar, sifted
• 1 tablespoon instant coffee granules

Preheat the oven to 350°. Butter two 8-inch round cake pans and line them with parchment paper; butter the paper. Dust the pans with flour, tapping out any excess.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle, mix the flour with the sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt at low speed. In a medium bowl, whisk the buttermilk with the oil, eggs and vanilla. Slowly beat the buttermilk mixture into the dry ingredients until just incorporated, then slowly beat in the hot coffee until fully incorporated.

Pour the batter into the prepared pans. Bake for 35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of each cake comes out clean. Let the cakes cool in the pans for 30 minutes, then invert the cakes onto a rack to cool completely. Peel off the parchment paper.

In a microwave-safe bowl, heat the chocolate at high power in 30-second intervals, stirring, until most of the chocolate is melted. Stir until completely melted, then set aside to cool to room temperature.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle, beat the butter at medium speed until pale and fluffy. Add the egg yolk and vanilla and beat for 1 minute, scraping down the side of the bowl. At low speed, slowly beat in the confectioners' sugar, about 1 minute. In a small bowl, dissolve the instant coffee in 2 teaspoons of hot water. Slowly beat the coffee and the cooled chocolate into the butter mixture until just combined.

Set a cake layer on a plate with the flat side facing up. Evenly spread one-third of the frosting over the cake to the edge. Top with the second cake layer, rounded side up. Spread the remaining frosting over the top and side of the cake. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour before slicing.

MAKE AHEAD
The frosted cake can be refrigerated for 2 days. Let stand for 1 hour before serving.

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Smashing the Fast

Posting has been light this weekend because of Yom Kippur.  Well, actually, because I was too fixated on my adorable niece who was visiting to attend to anything else.  And so I'm a bit late in offering a thank you to those of you who came to my rescue with ideas about what to serve at our mostly vegetarian break the fast party.

Ultimately, we ended up with a full and pretty darn good (if I do say so myself!) buffet:

• Squash and potato frittata
• Pepper and broccoli frittata
• Vegetable tian
• Mini bagels and lox
• Aunt Cheryl's amazing blintz souffle (more on that in a later post) with berry salad
• Praline noodle kugel
• Compost cookies
• Honey spice muffins (basically a drier version of my go-to recipe for honey cake)
• Honey challah from Cheryl Ann's Bakery

I hope you had a lovely weekend.  And for our Jewish friends, an easy fast.  L'shana tova.

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On Traces

My Aunt Cheryl, who is an avid reader of this blog (hi Auntie Cheryl!), came to my rescue by sending me a recipe for Blintz Souffle from Marlene Sorosky's Cooking for Entertaining.  What I particularly love about the recipe, aside from its obvious deliciousness, is that she sent me a pdf of the actual page from her copy of the cookbook -- stains, splatters, and all.

This may seem strange, but I feel like the recipe is going to be that much more tasty and special because it's been made so many times before by her (as is obvious by he well-loved appearance of the page).  If you flip through the cookbooks in our kitchen, you can similarly tell how many times we've made a particular recipe by looking at the condition of the binding, the number of chocolate fingerprints or oil splotches, etc.

For some, the most valued books in their collection are those that are in pristine condition.  I have a friend -- a literature professor and voracious reader -- who never marks up his books.  In fact, he is careful to never even break the spine.

For me, however, a book doesn't become an object worth keeping unless it's written on, broken in, and dog-eared.  Then it transforms from a mere thing to a repository of memories -- literally, a souvenir (French for "to remember"). Indeed, there's something so lovely about opening up a book and encountering an old version of yourself in it.  Seeing the underlining, marginalia, and doodles reminds me that I've experienced this already before and that -- still -- the present encounter with the book is a new experience, a chance to go on a tangent, to learn something more, or simply to get reacquainted with an old friend.

Beyond that, though, a book with stains, marks, and tears is also a book that itself has a life, a past.  Even if I wasn't the one to mark it up originally, I am nonetheless aware that the book has a history.  And when I flip through its pages, it's reading me into a shared experience with others.  So when I make the blintz recipe, it'll feel like my Aunt Cheryl and I were able to share in Yom Kippur together, even though she's far away in Canada.

This love of a book's traces is why I'm so reluctant to get a Kindle or rely on an eBook reader.  It's also why I always keep print-outs of any online recipe I make.

What do your books -- cookbooks, fiction, etc. -- look like?  Are you interested in the new and pristine or the old and weathered?

P.S. We were watching a new episode of "Hoarders" last night (I'm obsessed with that show), and it struck me that there's a fine line between my love of objects with history and the kind of fetishization that leads to hoarding.  Perhaps the difference between the two is that hoarders fear that the memories will be lost without being associated with objects -- that by tossing a wrapper, you're throwing away the experience of sharing a snack with a loved one -- while "souveniring" (or whatever it is that I do) assumes that objects can accumulate experience, that not only do they bear traces of the past, they also can serve as portals to shared and future experiences? Or maybe we've all got a bit of a hoarding instinct inside of us, and it's just a matter of the degree to which we're able to control it or to channel it in healthier directions?

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Who knew my people were so stylish?

Rickshaw as art piece?  Check.  Bird cage as light?  Check.  Jens-style chair covered in a chic, vaguely Anthropologie-esque fabric?  Naturally.  Would I go as far as to use the same fabric for the curtains?  Probably not.  But still.

Home and Decor via Desire to Inspire

Contemporary Singaporeans, it turns out, have whimsy and style.  And a love of mid-century.

Which comes as a surprise to me only because the last Singaporean house I remember was ours.

It appears that my mom thought a lovely damask couch would be a perfect complement to the austere colors and simple lines of the wall covering.

On closer inspection, it also looks like the wall on the right is covered in flocked wallpaper.  Because there wasn't enough going on in the room already.

Do you see that look of fear on my face?  And the fact that my mom had to put mittens on my little hands to prevent me from clawing my eyes out?

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Our Project Wedding

It's a little strange to think that my husband and I have been married for almost sixteen months. I still think of us as newlyweds.  Not the blissed-out, fawning-all-over-eachother type of newlyweds, but the still-working-out-the kinks, but kinda-amazed-we-still-like-eachother type.

Meanwhile, our Chewish wedding is having its second fifteen minutes of fame as the featured real wedding on Project Wedding this week.  Check it out here.

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Sweet Baby Jane

Thrilling news: My husband and I are now uncle and aunt to the world's most delightful baby girl (and, yes, that is an objective assessment).

Life couldn't be more perfect.

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Reason #829 my sister cracks me up

If you ever wanted to know what it's like to careen down a Chinese hillside in an out-of-control, never-safety-checked contraption or to enjoy Mr. Cao's camel, you have to check out my sister's hilarious account of her trip to the Great Wall.

Image Source: I Eat Therefore I Am

Yes, she's a hot skinny bitch now.  But I haven't forgotten what she looked like the last time we went to the great wall:

To be fair, I looked like this:

In addition to a surly "I'd rather be listening to Tori Amos on my Walkman" half-smile, I'm rocking a super chic Prada backpack.  And my mom's got some crazy white bug-eyed sunglasses on.  Ah, the early nineties . . . .

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If it's still moving it's not meant to be eaten

Remember my post about our visit to Beijing, when I said that the critters being served satay-style in Wangfujing were so horrifying that I had to delete my photos?

What do you mean you don't remember?  Don't you hang onto every word I write?  Grr.

via I Eat Therefore I Am

Well, either way, my sister has her photos up on her blog.  Shudder.

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Scenes from Beijing

Let not the horrors in yesterday's post give you the wrong idea about our visit to Beijing; we had a perfectly lovely time.  Beijing is actually a beautiful city -- polluted, crowded, hectic, crazy, and humid -- but beautiful still.

I mean, look at this picturesque spot in the Chinese Ethnic Culture Park.  Could it be any more idyllic?  (Well, it probably would have been more idyllic if some Chinese dude wasn't hocking up a loogie right as I was snapping this photo.)

Our hotel was right across from the Olympic Stadium, and we had a fun time exploring the expansive grounds.  The so-called "Bird's Nest" Stadium is so delicate and pretty from afar, but fascinatingly mechanical and modern looking up close.

Photo taken by my sister

Even more surprisingly, Tsinghua University, where my sister is studying this summer, is not just home to the dorm from hell; it also has some gorgeous hidden gardens that would make anyone want to pick up a brush and scroll and paint.

And let's not forget the food.  Since my sister will be blogging each exquisite meal on her blog, I won't dwell too long on the deliciousness.  Let's just say that the Peking Duck extravaganza we had at Ya Wang (Duck King) has played a starring role in my dreams for the last few nights. (In my nightmares, however, is a "Bizarre Foods"-type visit to the Wangfujing street market, where the critters being sold and consumed -- satay-style -- were so horrifying that I had to delete my photos. If you want more details, I'm sure my sister will have the play-by-play up soon on her blog.)

All this being said, I'm still pretty happy to be back in Hong Kong.  My Mandarin Chinese is pre-K at best, and there's only so much nodding and smiling you can do before you start feeling as dumb as you look and sound.

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Happy birthday to my sister!

Yes, she's always had an attitude.  And strong opinions.

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My Own Cake Wreck

I was looking at this Cake Wrecks post this morning when I got a sudden sense of de ja vu.

Ewe.

Thanks mom.  Now I know the source of my dislike for lamb.

(BTW, I think the lamb's eyes were made out of green maraschino cherries.  Double ewe.)

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Reason #828 my sister cracks me up

Among my sister's many good traits is that she is curious/passionate about every aspect of Chinese culture, and she will try anything once.  

Including paying an old lady under a bridge in Hong Kong to "da siu yen" (literally "hit the little person").  Da siu yen is an old Chinese ritual by which, for a few dollars, you can get a skilled practitioner of Chinese mumbo jumbo (almost always a little old lady, though not always under a bridge) to heap curses on your enemies while literally beating their effigy into submission.  (Kind of like sticking pins into voodoo dolls, but much, much more satisfying.)

Image Source: I Eat Therefore I Am

As my sister is the type of person who has a long list of nemeses, she was particularly well-prepared to try out this ritual.  Pity the fool who wrongs my sister, because this is what s/he will have ahead:

The audio is terrible on the video -- in Hong Kong, construction noise dominates the audio landscape -- but the whole time the little Chinese lady is vigorously beating the piece of paper (on which is inscribed the nemesis's name) with her old, weathered shoe, she's mumbling a litany of curses, including: "I hit you and damn you to be forced to work until the day you die" and (my favorite) "I hit you until you become bald."

The ritual is much more involved than I thought, since the video goes on for more than ten minutes.  Apparently -- and I had to learn this from reading this article in the LA Times, that's how up on things Chinese I am -- after beating the effigy, the little Chinese lady will put the paper representing the effigy into a little paper tiger's mouth, feed the paper tiger a bit of pork fat to tell it to STFU, set the whole thing ablaze, and do a number of other rituals designed to purge you of the bad luck brought on by said nemesis.

Pretty good for a few bucks, right?

Somewhere, someone is cursing the day s/he wronged my sister.  And it's going to make my sister very, very happy.

I'm still working on finding a personal nemesis.  Even though I don't have one yet, I really think we should all get one.  ;-)

Do you have a personal nemesis?  And what curses would you heap upon him or her?

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