Whip it, whip it well

Just imagine if all song lyrics were gramatically correct...

China...is that your hometown?

That ranks up there with, "Are you related to Dr. Singh?"

Here's a hilarious site: Black People Love Us!

Am thinking of creating a spin off AsAm site with a twist: White People Love Us!

Sample Testimonials:

"Jason is a great worker, really a model subordinate in every way."

"I just can't get enough of Michelle - she's just so exotic, like Lucy Liu."

"Chinese food is great, especially the Pad Thai - though I try to stay away from things that make me squeamish, like earthworms."

Books Are People Too

I have been tagged to indulge in talking about books by Ms. Winters, and I'm more than happy to comply. There's probably nothing else I like talking more about...except maybe Angelina in certain fits of neurosis.

1. How many books have I ever owned? The verb tense is throwing me off, but currently I own, with Moltmannian, around 800 books. I checked because I have OCD. Thanks a lot for setting off this bout of compulsive behavior, Victoria. I didn't know whether reference books and primary lit in other languages count, so give or take. I have a friend who just had his books assessed by a moving company and they say he has around 1200 lbs. of books - so now he's shooting for a literal ton of books. Craaaazy.

2. What was the last book I bought? I actually bought 4 books together last time, due to some graduation lovin', and they were Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf, a copy of The Nibelungenlied, The Saga of the Volsungs, and Thoreau's Walden and Civil Disobedience in one volume (one of these things is not like the other). My first love was literature and all things mythological, so though I really should be reading things like Dale Martin's The Corinthian Body I find myself straying back to my old flame.

3. What was the last book I read? I am currently reading Beowulf, but I just finished (for a book club) The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. I am usually a snob about contemporary literature but I loved this book. It's written as a notebook of an autistic 15 yr. old, and I like it so much I'm going to quote some here:

"In the bus on the way to school next morning we passed 4 red cars in a row, which meant that it was a Good Day, so I decided not to be sad about Wellington.
Mr. Jeavons, the psychologist at the school, once asked me why 4 red cars in a row made it a Good Day, and 3 red cars in a row made it a Quite Good Day, and 5 read cars in a row made it a Super Good Day, and why 4 yellow cars in a row made it a Black Day . . . . He said that I was clearly a logical person, so he was surprised that I should think like this because it wasn't very logical.
I said that I liked things to be in a nice order. And one way of things being in a nice order was to be logical. Especially if those things were numbers or an argument. But there were other ways of putting things in a nice order. And that was why I had Good Days and Black Days. And I said that some people who worked in an office came out of their house in the morning and saw that the sun was shining and it made them feel happy, or they saw that is was raining and it made them feel sad, but the only difference was the weather and if they worked in an office the weather didn't have anything to do with whether they had a good day or a bad day. . .
Mr. Jeavons said that I was a very clever boy."

There are many things in this book that leave me questioning my own existential assumptions.

4. What are 5 books that mean a lot to me? This is near impossible, but I'll try to include different categories.
1) Daniel Boyarin's A Radical Jew: Paul and the Politics of Identity. It's not the entirety of the book that means so much to me but the foundational ideas Boyarin presents that sent fireworks off in my head. His understanding of language as political, allegoresis as searching for univocity (White, Male, non-Jew), set off my methodology for my thesis on Markan masculinity. Boyarin has consistently showed me new ways to think - something I treasure. Paul Ricoeur has, of course, given me the larger framework, but Boyarin is dear to me as the one who took me down a different path.

2) George Eliot's Middlemarch. I have read and reread this book. I have gotten picked-up with this book playing a role when I was toting it around Hong Kong: a guy on the bus said to me, "How did you decide to be an English major?" Me: "How did you know I was an English Major?" "Nobody else would read Middlemarch for fun." Virginia Woolf called it "one of the few English novels written for grown-up people." I just love Dorothea. And I love Eliot's deft and insanely intelligent and well-informed writing (she did translate D. F. Strauss' Life of Jesus and L. Feuerbach's Essence of Christianity).

3) Speaking of Woolf, A Room of One's Own belongs here, simply because it was one of my first forays into feminism but I must tie it with Olive Schreiner's From Man to Man. It is out of print now - and picked apart (rightly so) by current South African feminists but its haunting and poetic narrative still lingers in my soul, it feels.

4) Another tie (I know, I'm cheating) would be perhaps two sides of the same coin: Henri Nouwen's Compassion and Jurgen Moltmann's The Crucified God. I cannot imagine my Christianity now without having had these open my eyes. Incidentally, I had the chance to have lunch with Moltmann (because of Moltmannian) and a bunch of seminarians. He doesn't disappoint.

5) Lastly, I will reveal myself to be a Tolkien geek and list The Lord of the Rings. I read it every year, usually without The Hobbit and with The Silmarillion (after reading the appendices, I just need more to prolong the narrative or I will be too sad). I started reading because of Eowyn, actually. You might say I have an Eowyn-Dorothea-Angelina-Martha Stewart complex. Scary.

Ah, books. They are people to me - people I talk to and listen to all the time. Moltmannian says they are my drug of choice, because sometimes I cease to talk to him for days while reading. I say, What's wrong with that?

7 Mile Loop

I went to a training session today for teaching with a widely-known test prep company. While prepping for the class, I couldn't help feeling a little brain-washed with their ideology (e.g. "never villify testmakers"). Granted, this is a busines with a product to sell - a tool for success - but I can't get over the fact that I am teaching not Knowledge but knowledge of a test. We are told never to go off about algebra or science or literature (i.e. content) but to focus on the test, test, test. Which is a good strategy, but it sends chills down my back.

One of the guys in my class (a minority like me) brought up the topic of the bias of standardized tests when they use questions involving assumed knowledge of, say, the Louvre or golf. Unfortunately, he brought this up a little randomly and it was clear we were not going to discuss it. I gave him a ride home and he went off on the discussion. At some point I asked, "Yes, but why bring up the topic at all?" I mean, you are signed up to teach. We are not here to question principles. I just feel that there are shrewder ways to observe and subvert. Obviously our trainers felt it was inappropriate and, actually, so did I. It had really nothing to do with the subject at hand. After going around with him on this several times I gave up...it felt too much like I was talking to a brick wall. He kept accusing me of ignoring the fact that there is an underlying philosophy at work. Well of course there is. I'm all about a hermeneutics of suspicion. But I'm also about logic! What did you come here for? Why are you discussing this? What did you hope to get out of this? Do you seriously think they recruited us to have discussions on race and class marginalization when they are counting on sales?

But after dropping him off I thought, maybe I should stop being so cynical. Maybe he's right to take things at face value - for example, really believing the trainers want us to discuss the principles and not just show we are good trainees and have read the material.

And then I went on a 7 mile run in training for the marathon. The route we used (found online) had the brilliant idea of sending us through a...less than safe neighborhood just south of our town. And I was thinking as I ran through: only a yuppie-esque twit like me would be training for the marathon because we sit on our asses at work all day. If I were a grocery clerk or a server or a factory worker would I be spending my leisure time running, of all things? That (and, well, because I'm a different shade) is why everyone looked at us as if we had sprouted horns. Sigh. I...just don't know.

The Amazing and Wonderful Gastronomic Adventure at TRU

Am staying up late so I can better digest (both literally and mentally/emotionally) the fantabulous dinner I experienced tonight at TRU with a group of good friends. Everything - from the art throughout the restaurant to the little seat for my purse to the aromatic cheese course - was invigorating and made for a giddy evening. The highlights:



The Gerhard Richter painting in the lobby.



The "flight" of caviar - truly amazing and awesome. Worth it just for this.



My friend's seafood tartar with a Siamese Fighting Fish in the bowl.

And, though I can't find an image for it, the "mosaic" formed by my Octopus Carpaccio - each round tentacle placed with exquisite care on Olive Vinaigrette to form a perfect circle. Beautiful.

My full menu (from Chef Tramonto's Collection):

Apple-Carrot Juice
Grand Amuse-Bouche (risotto, tuna tartar, heart of palm, cucumber soup)
Dry white wine (forget label) of Riesling and Sauvignon blend
Tramonto's Iranian Osetra and Golden Osetra Caviar Staircase
Octopus Carpaccio, Teardrop Tomatoes, Micro Arugula, Olive Vinaigrette
Hawaiian Foie Gras, Coconut Emulsion, Roasted Pineapple
Porcini Mushroom Cappuccino, Parmesan Tuile
Roasted Novia Scotia Halibut, Ragout of Morels & Baby Leeks, Beef Jus
Australian Beef Tenderloin, Braised Lettuce, Almonds, Red Wine Jus
Cheese Course of Fresh Chevre, Raisin Crusted Sweet Cheese, Spanish Hard Cheese
Sour Cherry Soup
Chocolate Molten Cake with Thyme Ice-Cream and Milk Pudding with Apple Chutney
Mignardises and Lollipops:


And THEN more truffles (Green Curry, Ginger, Passionfruit, etc. etc.) and then a take home mini package of Canneles (a tiny Bordeaux cake of vanilla and rum).

(In case you're wondering, we were given an envelope of our menus, printed out for us to keep and reflect on when we wax nostalgic for this evening, so, no, I do not have an impeccable memory - well, not THAT impeccable.)

We even got to tour the kitchen and watch the staging area, the pass, and the pastry chefs at work. Absolutely overwhelming.

Even better with wonderful and dear friends.

It Can Be Done

A few years ago I learned of a boycott on Taco Bell because of its alliance with tomato producers that were exploiting and abusing farmworkers. I was totally surprised to hear on NPR today that the boycott has succeeded and Yum Foods (corporate coglomerate of Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, and KFC) has agreed to the demands of the farmworkers. We're talking small time farmworkers picking tomatoes in Florida! Very heartening.

Oh Angelina!

In high school, my best girlfriend asked if I would kiss a woman if, say, it were Isabella Rosellini. Nope, I said, wouldn't do it. But give me Angelina Jolie now and I wouldn't even stop to think before I leant in.

Check out this Salon.com article. I was struck by the columnist's suggestion that Jolie has not made more reputable/lucrative movies because Hollywood mostly offers the following roles for women: 1) hooker with a heart of gold 2) frustrated housewife and 3) loyal and supportive wife. She has done none of these roles - and we can say the same for precious few other actresses. She defies these male concepts and, perhaps, the male auteurs who run the show just cannot put her to good use. And don't say Lara Croft is submitting to the male gaze. I think she so completely dominates the pictures they can no longer be simply just fodder for horny teenage boys.

I think I'm in love.

Fat Rascals & Stargazey Pie

"If you would like to set the pudding aflame..." So ends the recipe for Plum Pudding, at the end of my newfound literary treasure, The Cooking of the British Isles. I came across it in a used book sale, and it is full of British food lore, like this Old English rhyme of drink:

"Heap on more coal there
And keep the glass moving,
The frost nips my nose,
Though my heart glows with loving.
Here's the dear creature,
No skylights - a bumper;
He who leaves the heeltaps
I vote him a mumper.
With hey cow rumble O,
Whack! populorum,
Merrily, merrily, men,
Push around the jorum."

(no skylights, a bumper = brimful glass; heeltaps = glass not drained to the last drop; mumper = beggar; jorum = punch bowl)

There's a great map of the isles divided into regions and what foods they specialize in - so one knows to go to Hereford for the best cider and Norfolk for excellent pork pie dumplings. Mmmm. And there are a million delightful names: Petticoat Tails, Godcakes, Singing Hinny, Whigs, Huffkins, Toad in the Hole, and on and on. I will report back when I taste my first attempts at the recipes.

I must end with an excerpt:

". . . each brand of malt, more than the somewhat standardized blended Scotches, has very individualistic characteristics. Laphroaig, for example, comes from the tiny island of Islay off the west coast of Scotland and possesses so distinctive a flavor that it can never be mistaken for any other brand. Every Scotsman is sure of his own choice. I remember being in the bar of a tiny hotel in Loch Awe in Argyll when a huge Scots engineer came in. He looked at the glass in my hand.
'What's that ye are drinking?'
'It's whisky,' I said, my English accent coming over loud and clear.
'Aw, I know that, but what kind of whisky?'
I mentioned a well-known brand.
The engineer said, 'That's no bloody whisky, that's the muck they drink doon in Glasgow.'
He yelled at the barman, and pointed, 'Gie us that bottle.' The bottle turned out to be a different, but equally well-known brand.
'That's the stuff to drink,' he said. 'Never ask for any other, it's the best in Scotland.' But whatever a man's [sic] preference, all Scots would agree that Scotch in general is a concoction beyond compare. Perhaps the last word on that subject should be left to Robert Burns, who was an officer of the Customs and Excise, a gauger of barrels and detector of smugglers, a drinker of some renown, and one of the greatest poets in the world: 'O thou, my Muse! guid auld Scotch drink;/ Whether thro' wimplin' worms thou jink,/ Or, richly brown, ream owre the brink,/ in glorious faem,/ Inspire me, till I lisp an' wink,/ To sing thy name!'"