Seizure Salad

bits and bobs

Bit

Mainly so I remember what I did, I'm posting a rough recipe for the dinner I made tonight, which was DELEEEESHUS. I just eyeballed everything, so the amounts will not be exact but you really can't go wrong.

2 chicken breasts, bone-in and skin on
1 asian eggplant, roughly chopped
1 medium zucchini, roughly chopped
1 vidalia onion, roughly chopped
1 small red pepper, roughly chopped
4 whole cloves of garlic
3 tablespoons harissa paste
olive oil
salt and pepper
1/4 cup chicken broth
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

Heat a few glugs of olive oil in a heavy pot or skillet with a lid (if you have an enamel-on-cast iron-dutch oven or similar, use that. If you don't  have one, get one - you'll thank me later. If you can handle shopping at WalMart, they are currently selling Starfrit enamel-on-cast-iron cookware for very, very cheap- I got a deep skillet with a lid for ten bucks. A slow cooker would also be fabulous here, although you'd have to sear the chicken in another pan). Salt and pepper the chicken breasts and rub with half of the harissa paste. Things will be even better if you rub with the harissa the night before and let marinate in the fridge.

When pan is medium-hot, add chicken and sear until nicely brown on both sides. Remove chicken, add the remaining harissa paste and stir to toast the spices. Add onions, garlic and red pepper and cook, stirring, until soft - at any point here you may find that you need to add a bit more oil to the pan. Add zucchini and eggplant and cook for a further 2-3 minutes. Add the red wine vinegar and chicken broth. Taste to see if you need salt, pepper etc.

Add chicken back to pan with any accumulated juices, fit the veggies around and on top. Pop the lid on, reduce heat to simmer and cook until chicken is tender - around 30 minutes.
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Holy crap, this was good. The harissa paste that I have is a brand called Raphy's, and it's actually French. It's not particularly 'hot' it's very pimento/paprika like. If the stuff you have is fire-y, reduce according to your taste. You could also improvise without it, using a curry paste or another blend of spices. Go ahead and play with the veggies, but I would recommend sticking with the zuke/eggplant/pepper thing, as it was like a lovely ratatouille. Dip some bread in those juices and it's marvelous!

Harissa is a new favorite of mine, as is a spice mixture called za'atar. It's made up of toasted sesame seeds, oregano, marjoram, cumin, salt and some other stuff. It's great sprinked raw on salads, as crust on chicken or fish, and I even add it when I'm baking bread.

Bob

I have a new favorite band - Hot Springs. They're from Montreal, two women and two men. For ONCE in such an arrangement, the drummer is a woman! I just about fainted. I felt like contacting her and offering a blood pact of some kind... The singer, Giselle Webber, has the most amazing voice. Describing it just won't do it justice, but picture elements of Bjork, Ari Up from the Slits and Janis Joplin. The band itself is sometimes delicate but also rocks really hard, just straight up, energetic ballsy rock and roll. I feel like I've been waiting a long time to see women really integrated into rock bands and have the press just treat it as normal - all of the stuff I've read about Hot Springs just talks about their music, which is really refreshing.

Maybe we're there ... are we? In the last 3 years or so, I've seen a lot fewer shocked faces when I take the stage and people see that I'm on the drums. God, imagine how the Runaways must have felt!

Bit

Pixie gave us quite a scare the other night. She was chewing on a bully stick - kind of a rawhide chew type thing - and she managed to swallow the whole 6" piece. Off to the emerg vet, where she was pronounced fit and sent home to wait and poop. It still hasn't emerged but there has been no end of that special brand of canine flatulence and tummy gurgling.

Off to spin - hopefully finishing plying some superwash merino/alpaca that I've been working on for months, fingers crossed for pictures tomorrow.

Close to the Edge pt 1

Anyone who isn't moved by this video has cold, grey cobwebs where their heart should be.

Jon Anderson of Yes performing Close to the Edge with a bunch of young, earnest music students...mostly for their parents, I think. That is so cool. And I am not even a Yes fan. (*edited to add - notice the CAPE on the keyboard player.)

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds

I had a great dream last night, the latest in a long running serialization. Ever since learning to play the drums, I have often had variations on a dream that I am on stage playing with some famous bunch of musicians. Invariably, my drum kit is broken or missing vital pieces and I can't play along properly. Sometimes my drumsticks get smaller and smaller, whittling themselves down to nothing while I play.

Geez, that sounded like some Freudian imagery right there. Ahum.

These dreams are a bit like a sex dream that's all horny build-up and never getting it on. They're very realistic - I go through all of the actual thrill of being on stage with Mick Jagger, or The Police or whomever but the inevitable let down just kills me every time. The other musicians are never angry (they don't even seem to notice much ... hmmmm.)

The latest installment was very interesting, it was the resurrected Johnny and June Carter Cash. I think it was the first time another woman has been present on stage with me (note to self - think about this more). We were playing some kind of hootenany affair and having a great time. I actually did get to play along for the early part of the set just on a snare drum. After an intermission we were supposed to get to some more rockin' material, and I was STOKED. Problem was, my cymbals and stool were missing as well as my proper drumsticks - all I had was knitting needles.

I told Johnny I'd be right back, I figured someone had just loaded some of my gear in somewhere else in the venue by mistake, so I went walking. The area behind the stage turned into a huge, many football fields-sized flea market with all manner of crazy junk. It was impossible to spot my drum hardware in the terrible mess. I followed a hallway out beside the stage and soon realized the club we were playing at was attached to a hotel - so through the hotel I went, corridor after corridor, stairways up and down looking for my lost drum gear. Of course, I got lost and never made it back to finish the set.

I woke up this morning before the alarm remembering the dream, and let my mind drift over it for a little while. It seems to me that that the giant flea market behind the stage is a very interesting metaphor for all of the collected junk, ephemera, worries and "baggage" that sit there just behind all of my creativity, nagging away at it a little bit. Stuff gets lost in there, you know? Good stuff. And if I worry too much and go off hunting for things in junk-worry-land, sometimes I never get back to the place I need to be in.

It sounds a bit depressing, but it was actually a light hearted and enjoyable little dream, and I felt like I advanced the plot a little bit.

Since I'm on the subject, I have to tell you about my hands-down best dream ever. Very very ultra-real life vivid. I found myself suddenly in a boiler room with all manner of giant rotating gears and screaming, steam-shooting Metropolis type machinery. A little man was running all of this stuff, and I asked him where I was. He looked quite startled to see me, and said "shit - you're not supposed to see this room, how did you manage to get in here?" I said I didn't know, and I asked him again where I was. "You're in the engine room in your head that makes your dreams. It's also kind of the place you go when you die, hard to explain - now get out of here!" and I woke up.

... and the list continues

I tried last year to write a "100 things about me" post - it's taking a long time. I guess I only knew 51-100ths of myself when I started this list in October 2007. Galdang it, I'm still not done either.

52. I have several “best friends”. My boyfriend pointed out to me at a social gathering that I was talking like this throughout the night: “My best friend X and I…”, “My best friend Y said…”, “I was talking to my best friend Z…” He thought it was funny; I was momentarily embarrassed but then reckoned  it was totally correct.

53. I am a weird mixture of frugal and spendy. I hate spending money on clothes, furnishings or anything decorate-y but I will gladly spend $27 for, say, a smidge of some very special salt that has been thrown up on the beach by a nearly-extinct narwhal.

54. I have the worst sense of direction, IN THE WORLD. People never believe it’s that bad until they experience it firsthand. Most days since I’ve been at my current job, I step out of the elevators at the ground floor and have to stop and think really hard about what direction to walk in to get to the door. Which is ten feet away.

55. The terrible sense of direction is balanced by some very good facial recognition skills, especially for obscure TV character actors from the 70s. Names – not so good.

56. I have long fingernail beds. I often look at other people’s fingernail beds in comparison. I keep my fingernails very short because I play the drums, and they would dig into my hands otherwise. Hm, 56 is kind of creepy.

57. I have had 21 roommates, spanning 16 or so different apartments and houses over 18 years and 2 cities. I have lived with six of those people twice, so if you count each occurrence that would be more like 27.

58. Favorite foods: spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs, chicken shawarma from Sarah's on Bloor St ., saag paneer, a toasted bacon and tomato sandwich at the end of summer when tomatoes are perfect.

59. Drink I love that everyone else hates: Campari, cranberry juice, lemon and soda. Bitter.

60. Buried or cremated: Not sure yet. I will probably instruct the living to pick whatever is cheaper. Having jointly paid $10,000 to bury my father with my siblings, I understand the financial burden of the funeral thing. If I had my way, I would just love to be buried underneath a fruit-bearing tree.

61. I love Steely Dan, and almost no one understands.

 

 

Endlessly fascinating search terms

Perhaps it's still the new-car-smell thrill of having StatCounter, but I just get so tickled every time I see what kind of search terms people are plugging in to the ol' Googleplex to get here.

Coming up tops, STILL - "Gigantic Nipples". I really am sorry to disappoint you folks, they just belong to my dog. It's true though, they are gigantic - wayward puppies follow her around just trying to get some action.

The sheer number of people searching for "Seizure Salad" or "Ceasure Salad" or "Ceazur Salad" is I'm sure a testament to our broken education system, not proof of my popularity. Also good - "Making Faces with Salad".

Recently, others have apparently also been haunted by Manhattan Transfer - "Kool Kool Kitty Lyrics" is coming up a lot. Maybe it's an aural virus of some kind...I was almost over it, and then the boyfriend had to sing it to me one morning on the way to work. Cruel.

My favorite this week though has to be "REO Shitwagon" - I really thought I had the market cornered on that particular term.

Free Time

I really tried to wake up early today, but it was a no-go. Lately on the weekends I have been staying up until 3:00 a.m. or so, wringing every precious drop of freedom and alone time out of the night. It's me and my spinning wheel, a Mill St. 'Wit' Beer, a hank of superwash merino and 70s classic rock on the Galaxy digital radio channel. This is a surprisingly winning combination.

I've gotten into this habit where I can only spin late late at night, and I'm not really sure why. It's something about the mental (fugue?) state the spinning puts me in; I admit it's kind of like being high. It seems wrong to feel that way in the middle of the afternoon.

Since bloggie has been pretty picture-free lately, here is a work in progress shot. And one evidence photo so disturbing, it really should carry a disclaimer.

Superwash Merino/Alpaca from Allspunup on Etsy:

I love this stuff. It drafts very finely all on its own, although it took me a while to figure out how to handle the fibre. Being superwash merino it's fairly slippery stuff and I was tending to break my single before figuring out that I needed to spin this a little more towards the woolen (as opposed to worsted - a good explanation of these terms can be found here, although I am spinning woolen from roving, not rolags). This colourway is called Twilight Tweed. I'm really, really pleased with my progress here, I think when this is 2-plied it will make a pretty nice sock yarn.

And now, a photo so disturbing I ask you to remove elderly people, small children and the squeamish from the vicinity of the computer. Go ahead, I'll wait.

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OK then. When D and I got our dog, Pixie, we remarked delightedly and often on her total lack of shedding. I mean, we almost never even found a stray hair anywhere, it was fantastic. And then, about 3 weeks ago the Massive Shed of Summer 2008 began, and she began....molting has to be the right word. Every time she brushed up against something (including us) it left gobs and gobs of fur. Nests of fur. After she got up off the sofa, what was left behind would make an appropriate den for a small woodland animal.

We brushed and brushed and brushed her, and the fur just kept coming. In handfuls. I was considering taking her to the vet because I was starting to wonder if she was not shedding, but actually losing her fur. So when I came upon The Furminator on a greyhound web forum, I decided to find it, or a tool like it. And this is the result:

This is the result of only two sessions of brushing her with a tool that is a clone of the Furminator: a white plastic shopping bag FULL of fur. This is all undercoat - it's really fluffy and soft (and yes, I did contemplate spinning it for about 5 minutes, but I'm really not ready to go "there" quite yet). Just like sheep, some dogs have an undercoat and an overcoat, or guard hairs. The undercoat is what builds up in the winter and sheds in the summer. The guard hairs stay put. After brushing her on one side, we noticed a significant colour difference - she looked like she was from Cheron. While we were using the tool on her, she was very, very happy. She continues to do the greyhound dance of joy at being relieved of the equivalent of a full length down-filled parka.

Seriously - if you have a sheddy cat or dog, get this thing. And no, I am not endorsing this product because they sent me one or anything like that, I'm just passing along a good find.

6 ways in which I am not cool

1. Bands I Should Know or Like but Don’t

Guided By Voices: Too difficult, no entry point with the 600 album oeuvre. I hear snippets and it kinda all sounds the same. They remind me of making out with disinterested rock and roll Peter Pan man-boys in damp basement bachelor apartments. I hear the collective cold-shouldering of all of indie-rockdom as I type this.

Television: I DO actually like and listen to Television, but the thing is - I can only take about 3 songs in a row of Tom Verlaine singing and then I start to get a migraine. It is the actual high-pitched  frequency of his voice, like a Pomeranian barking - I love the guitar work, the lyrics...I just need a neck massage afterwards.

Misfits: I dunno, just never got into them.

2. I have not smoked enough pot.

3. I always sport comfortable, rather than edgy, footwear.

4. I don’t have very many rock t-shirts.

5. I spin on a spinning wheel and talk about it, a lot.

5. I make up lists of ways in which I am not cool.

Ahhhhh.....soup.

I have been feeling somewhat grouchy lately, and I don't think I'm alone in it. There might be a mild epidemic in Toronto by the looks on some faces on the subway lately. For me, the reality of spending most of my summer at my desk staring at a computer is sinking in...I guess I should count my blessings because last summer, I spent most of my time on crutches.

I managed to pretty much cure it this weekend with this magical springtime soup...it restored my very soul, so I share it with you.

I don't really measure stuff, so you'll have to use your eyes and taste buds in equal measure.

Spring Garden Soup

1 bunch wild leeks (if you can get them-check farmers markets. They are worth going on a hunt for. If you can't find wild leeks, use 3 regular leeks, well cleaned, white and 1 inch of green parts) sliced
salt and pepper to taste
3 cups baby spinach, washed
1 small bundle of asparagus, any woody stems removed or peeled, chopped
1 small bunch flat leaf parsley, washed and chopped (some stems too)
1 large potato, diced
1 medium white onion, chopped
1 green onion, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, minced
about 6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1 tbsp heavy cream or sour cream
2 tbsp olive oil

In a large stock pot, heat oil over medium heat. Add leeks, salt and pepper to taste white onion and garlic and saute until soft but not browned. Add potato and continue to saute for 2 minutes.

Add stock and the rest of the ingredients (EXCEPT green onion, spinach and cream) and bring to a boil. Turn heat to simmer and cook just until all vegetables are tender, perhaps 5-7 minutes, don't overcook. Pour into a blender until 1/2 to 3/4 full and puree in batches, adding spinach to the blender just before pureeing. (TIP - remove the round middle thing on the blender lid and cover with two thickly folded dishtowels. This helps avoid splattering hot soup on your arm as the steam forces itself out of the lid. You could also use an immersion blender right in the pot.)

After pureeing pour back in stockpot, taste and correct seasoning if necessary. Add cream or sour cream and whisk in, serve up with a garnish of sliced green onions.

You could absolutely substitute many things in here, I bet baby peas would be wonderful in addition, or instead of the asparagus.

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I hit my first seasonal market this Saturday, the Wychwood Barns market temporarily housed on St. Clair at Wychwood Ave. This November, the market will move into its permanent home in the new Artbarn development.

My main reason for frequenting this particular market (aside from proximity to house) is that I am stalking the Stoddart Family Farms for their AMAZING romney wool. Silvia sells naturally coloured roving, handdyed roving and handspun yarn at their market stall, as well as a variety of veggies. This week there were a ton of seedlings too, and I got two heirloom tomato varieties as well as some arugula and basil. This teeny little market is all local farmers as well as cheese makers and other vendors, and I just love it. I will be there every Saturday this summer.

Go forth, and find your own neighbourhood market! And when you're there, ask the vendors if they actually farm, or if they just went to a food terminal and picked up their produce on the way over...you'd be surprised. Support your local farmer!

Chicken Faces

Apparently I was dreaming about a new reality/game show last night - when I woke up to the alarm this morning, I had one line clearly imprinted in my memory. It was the host from Dancing With The Stars throwing to commercial, saying "Find out who will lead in Chicken Faces, when we return".

Chicken Faces? Is that, um, painting your own face to look like a chicken? Making faces that look like a chicken? Something oh so much more sinister? Who knows. My dreams are so weird.

this n that

D and I got home tonight after dropping Pixie off at "Camp Greyhound" in Innisfil.  I met the mistress of Camp, Karen, through GRA (Greyhound Relocation and Adoption) a few months ago. She has more than a few greyhounds of her own, and offers daily or weekly boarding.

Pixie went absolutely nuts! A backyard, four other greyhound buddies - I don't think she will want to come home.

The place feels lonely without her already. BUT...we are off to NYC tomorrow, so no time to feel weepy about the dog! Bands to see, yarn to buy, sushi to eat.

I came home tonight to fun stuff from the postman, see? (click to embiggen)

On the left is Prisma, and on the right Veggie Patch. Handcarded Merino, Tencel and sparkle wonderfullness from FeltstudioUK on etsy.com. So fuggin delicious I can hardly stand it...like soft clouds of colour. A delight for eyes and hands. A little priceee but so very worth it. I want to take it to New York and just pet it and show it to people on the subway. I am having a pretty hard time not spinning it up right now...

OK, off to sleep then to the Big Apple tomorrow. Hopefully pictures upon return.