November 2003 Archives

I just finished a four hour bake-a-thon of gingerbread cookies. I doubled the recipe which was supposed to yield a total of a hundred cookies, but I bet it turned out more like 150. Now we definitely have to con someone into helping us decorating them.

I used the same recipe as last year, but the dough had a very different consistency. I think last year I didn't melt the butter, but it looks like the cookies turned out pretty much the same.

I also made an interesting discovery. I forgot to brush my first batch of cookies with eggs and, as expected, they looked a bit dull. However, they also didn't rise nearly as much as the subsequent batches. So the egg glaze is not just for show -- I assume it helps trap the CO₂ generated by the baking soda and thus the cookie rise more and stay fluffier.

We drove up to Arlington on Thursday and made it to Rita's around one. Most work was done, so we just hang out until Matthew arrived with grandma and Joanna with Danny. The turkey was delicious -- very moist and tasty. I got to carve it with an electric knife and made the usual mess out of it. Despite lots of side dishes and two different pies, I managed not to overdo it.

On Friday I enjoyed a quiet morning with a book and Homer while Jfer and her mom did some post-TG shopping. We then headed over to Jfer's dad's where we snacked on their TG leftovers (I fixed myself ham-and-nothing-else and turkey-and-cranberry sandwiches). For me, TG is all about the leftovers. After we wasted the afternoon on The Matrix we returned to Benny's and I munched on a very delish apple pie. Jfer dad's house turns into a scary place around Christmas. Every year there are more and more illuminated holiday decorations popping up. This year's addition was an animated Santa which provided Jfer and Benny with way too much joy (I found him a bit creepy). After dark, though, the lights really looked nice. Here's a great shot of Duke in holiday spirit.

Saturday started off with breakfast at Danny's (provided by Jfer's dad) and then we headed back to Austin. Once we arrived, we joined the post-TG get-together at a neighbor's house with freshly Cajun-fried turkeys and lots of pot-luck side dishes (our contribution was some leftover beer from our fridge).

So I managed to have three different turkeys in three days without any cooking of my own. Actually, I did bake some cheese braids on Wednesday which were appreciated by Rita, grandma and a cucaracha at Benny's.

I've finally posted my pictures from Madrigal Dinner (better late than never...) The show was as enjoyable as ever, even though I recognize fewer and fewer people on the stage and in the choir. They really had well matched actors for some of the roles -- we especially enjoyed the queen. The only thing I wish is that they'd let you know which movies to watch ahead of the show to get all the references -- I had only seen the Godfather in pieces.

Argh! There seems to be no way to turn off the damn fire alarm. It's incessant high-pitch whine has been going for over half an hour now without abating. Actually I don't hear it as acutely anymore, since it probably killed off the cilia in my inner ear responsible for its hateful frequency. So when we have a real emergency, I'll be toast.

Jfer decided to test drive one of her birthday gifts today and put an Applejack scent in her brand new simmer pot on the stove. After a while the aroma reached us in the living room and wasn't too bad (if you're into pot-pouri). Then some time later I noticed a different kind of smell--a sweet scent not unlike what smoke machines in a theater produce. I ran into the kitchen which at this point was mostly filled with white smoke from the now-empty-but-blackening simmer pot. Less than a minute after I turned off the stove and opened the windows the alarm kicked in and hasn't stopped since.

I'm disappointed that Homer didn't seem fazed by the smoke--he's no Lassy and we can't depend for him to pull us out of a burning house, I guess.

So while Jfer now has one more item on her Xmas list (I'm talking about a new simmer pot--we already have a fire extinguisher) maybe that's not the best gift to give her...

One of Jfer's goals for Thanksgiving in Arlington was to go to see Matrix Revolutions at the IMAX. I had read the horrible reviews and still remember how disappointing Matrix II was (although I have a hard time remembering any of the plot--except the weird rave underground). Jfer figured that it would be great to see the special effect "real big" so I acquiesced and we managed to make a family outing out of it, with Jfer's mom, dad (who'd never seen any of the previous movies) and misc. steps attending.

It turned out to be another three hours of my life I'll never get back. At $11.75 a pop, no less. Let's just say that a turd seen on IMAX is simply a much bigger turd.

I'm only glad that Jfer didn't manage to use "Matrix on the IMAX" as an excuse for a trip to Chicago, as she vaguely planned in the past.

A year ago I applied for a renewal of my Green Card at the INS in San Antonio. I got an extension sticker while the application was being processed, but a year later I have yet to receive a new card and the sticker is expiring. Since we're going to Europe for the holidays, I need a valid document to leave an return.

I called the INS, which has since become the SCIS (Citizenship and Immigration Services--a Department of Homeland Security agency) in September and then again, yesterday. I was immensely impressed with how friendly and helpful the people on the phone were--I think my image of federal employees is skewed by the grumpy people at the post office.

Apparently they are just now processing applications from last November, so I may or may not get my new card before our trip. But I can get a stamp in my passport to tide me over. So today I took advantage of the pre-Thanksgiving day off work and drove down to San Antonio. After waiting for only half an hour I got my stamp and now I'm set to travel again.

I also asked and was told that it's OK if I can't exactly document my trips abroad when filling out an N-400 application. And it seems that they have only a five month backlog on those, so if I get my stuff together and apply early next year (and get approved), I might be voting some bums out of the office come November. Wouldn't that be something?

We saw ALO's Turandot yesterday. I liked the production, especially Ping Yu as the eponymous Ping and NaGuanda Miller as Piu. But the more I think about it, the less I like the plot of Turandot.

Here's my very short synopsis:

• The ice cold Chinese princess Turandot doesn't want to marry (an ancestress got ravaged by a barbarian, hence all men are bad™) -- any potential suitor must answer three riddles or lose his head.
• The Tartar prince Calaf arrives at the court and runs into his long lost (now blind and decrepit) father Timur who's accompanied by the slave girl Piu (who's, of course, in love with Calaf).
• Calaf sees Turandot at the beheading of the latest suitor, falls in love and wants to give it a shot. Naturally he solves the riddles.
• Turandot whines and whines, trying to get out of marrying the successful suitor but her father, the emperor, insists. Calaf gives her a chance, saying if she discovers his name by dawn, she can have him killed instead of marrying him.
• Turandot tries to find his name by any and all means. She finds out that the old man (Timur) and his slave girl know the stranger and has them tortured to get his name. Liu won't give out Calaf's name and commits suicide -- Timur lies down next to her and dies.
• Morning is approaching, Calaf kisses the princess (who just caused his father's death), and since she still doesn't want to marry him, tells her his name.
• Day breaks and Turandot says that the stranger's name is "love" and decided to marry him. Everyone is happy.

I've been enjoying this oven mitt that I got at a Pampered Chef party a few years back (some of their stuff, like the garlic press is excellent, but most of it can be gotten at BBB for less). It's thick and long and generally works great. Except when it gets wet, of course, then it conducts heat just like any other wet cloth mitt.

Recently I started seeing the Orka silicone oven mitts (made by Mastrad) at every other store. So last time I was at BBB and blowing lots of cash on a cool spring-form pan and Jfer's birthday gift I figured I'd take advantage of my 20% off EVERYTHING coupon and bought one of those beauties.

I must say, the mitt is everything the advertising says it is. It's amazingly thin, but works just as good as the much thicker Pampered Chef mitt. You get a better sense of what you're holding and the non slip surface really works. And it doesn't care that it gets wet. The other day I was taking Crème brûlée ramekins out of their 200+F water bath and the mitt worked like a charm. Now that I have one mitt I really want to get another one -- and I really want a long one.

So here's my toast to this wonderful product: Silicone, it's not just for fake boobs anymore!

Spell it right: Despite what thousands of pages may think, silicon and silicone (with an "e") are two very different things (the former isn't very squishy.)

This morning I was testing this GPS sleeve on a Symbol device. Of course I couldn't get a signal in the office, so I stepped outside and wandered around the parking lot to get out of our building's shadow. Eventually the receiver picked up enough satellites for me to perform my tests (mostly seeing how fast I was walking).

So when I walk back into our building, there is this lady from a first floor office asking whether she can help me with anything. Huh? I tell her no thanks, that I was just testing my GPS device and head toward the elevator. She asks why I was writing down license plate numbers in the parking lot. Huh?!? I say that I needed to be outside because I couldn't get a signal in my office. I start getting on the elevator only to see the building supervisor approaching and asking what I was up to. I mumble something and get in the elevator while overhearing the lady complain that "this guy" was "recording license plates".

WTF?!? She mustn't have much to do in her window office and definitely has a warped sense of paranoia (although I'm not quite sure what one could do with "recorded license plates"). I only wish I were thinking more quickly on my feet -- I could have come up with some great "explanations" for my suspicious behavior.

I got to talk with mom before her operation and she didn't sound too concerned about it. "A couple of days of pain is going to be worth the improvements" were her words. That attitude is so typical. I was glad when I finally got the news that things went OK.

Dad send out an email when he got home that the operation went smoothly and that my mom seems to be doing well. I'm looking forward to talking with her tomorrow.

I'm up at an ungodly hour waiting for it to be 7:30 AM in Switzerland so that I can call my mom at the hospital. I found out last week that she's been suffering leg pains due to spinal stenosis (narrowing of spinal canal). Her doctor prescribed surgery and apparently a spot opened at the hospital, so she's scheduled for some time this morning.

From what I've learned, the afflication is not uncommon, it's not preventable (part of aging) and if surgery is required, 75% of patients are satisfied with the results. I'm not sure which type of surgery she'll undergo, but I assume it's decompressive laminectomy judging from how long she expects recovery to take.

The good thing is that, with the obvious exception of her back, my mom is in good health and shape. Still, surgery is always scary--even if it's a fairly common procedure. I'm thinking positively and I'll be sending happy thoughts her way around 10 tomorrow morning.

Despite having a pretty lazy weekend, we managed to do two social events. On Saturday we went to the Cactus Cafe to hear Trout Fishing in America's kids show. Jonathan was sick, so it was just a us, Elizabeth and her in-laws. I was kind of sleepy and they played a bunch of new songs I didn't know so I didn't really get into it. Jfer bought their newest CD It's a Puzzle which contains the exquisite ode to buggers called Alien In My Nose -- it's pure genius!

On Sunday we joined the Trenthams in New Braunfels at their annual pilgrimage to artery-clogging German-like food at Wurstfest. It was delicious and sickening all at once. We got to do some umpah dancing, too, so it wasn't all unhealthy.

Next weekend should be busy with Madrigal on Saturday and Turandot on Monday.

Jfer talked me into seeing the movie The Gospel of John on Saturday. The fact that it was going to be a word-for-word retelling gave me some pause, but the Chronicle gave it a good review so I figured it might be interesting. Interesting it was, but not three freaking hours interesting!

There is quite a bit to like about the movie. A lot of effort went into the production to make it historically accurate and realistic. I liked their choice of using (relatively) unknown actors with stage background for the main characters (although the cast was rather "white" -- the blue-eyed, dirty-haired John the Baptist could be mistaken for a raving homeless vet or a fried, dread-locked surfer). Jesus was portrayed as a real, compassionate, progressive man with a sense of humor and a messianic complex (well, duh!) I really appreciated that the story was told in a straight way, no celestial choirs and trumpets, no glowing halos, etc.

However, if you're not familiar with the other Gospels, John's on its own can be a bit disjointed. It starts with Christ's adult ministry, so you miss all the background and childhood stories. And there are quite a few parts that are only in some of the other Gospels (sermon on the mount, more about John the Baptist, Mary Magdalena and other people, breaking bread at the last supper, convicts on the cross, Judas' suicide, Ascension, etc., etc.)

Our last gourmet club meeting hat a Hungarian theme and Jfer and I got tasked with dessert. I googled around and found that the typical Hungarian dessert is the Dobostorta. The recipe looked decadent (a dozen of eggs, a ton of sugar and butter) so it seemed the perfect thing to do.

Well, let's just say that the damn thing is incredibly labor intensive. You have to bake 6-8 spong cake layers one at a time which takes forever. And for some reason my batter wouldn't stay fluffy and instead of layers of light sponge cake I ended up with something resembling dens, sweet omelettes. Ugh!

Luckily I found another recipe that made more sense (no butter in the sponge cake) and made another batch of cake layers. These turned out pretty well, although with varying diameters. I also liked the cream filling in this recipe better (it's got rum and no eggs--lucky for me since I had wasted half a dozen on the first recipe). Eventually I ended up trimming the cakes to the smalles common diameter and once it was covered with the filling, it looked all nice.

The fun part of the recipe was caramelizing sugar (a first for me) to create a hard glaze. Jfer discovered (despite my warnings) that caramelized suger acts a bit like napalm and ended up with a blister on her finger. That'll teach her not to "sample". In the end, the cake turned out satisfactory, both appearance as well as taste wise.

I was pretty impressed with most of the Hungarian food at the dinner. The appetizers, consisting of little pancakes and various pates (including one made from mushrooms) were awesome. The main dish was chicken paprikas with dumplings and someone brought a delicious mushroom side dish.

I was reminded how much of my childhood cuisine was influenced by Hungary (I guess when you're part of the Austro-Hungarian empire for a century or so, some of it is going to seep over). The chicken, mushroom dishes and cucumber salad were very familiar. As was Lecsó, a vile pepper and tomato dish that my parents used to make me eat and that I had, until now, successfully repressed from my memory.

When I was little I would sometimes become upset about some minor thing or other. Often it was something my sister said or did, the way siblings can get under each other's skin. Invariably, my mom would advise me to not let myself be bothered by little things and to simply tell myself "orel much nelapá" or "the eagle catcheth no flies".

This motto, the Latin original is aquila non captat muscas, was one of my grandfather's favorite sayings and got passed down through the family. I didn't really appreciate it as a child and figured that the eagle would go after the flies if they were bugging him as much as I felt bugged. Over the years I've gotten to appreciate it much more, though. There is only so much time to spend being upset about something, so don't waste it on little things. I'm bewildered whenever I see people bogged down in perceived hurts and recriminations.

Today, "orel much nelapá" is a big part of my life philosophy. As a child I could waste a lot of energy on being upset about something minor. These days when something bugs me, if it's fly-sized I refuse to be bothered by it. Actually, putting it into the eagle/fly perspective makes me feel better about it and about not responding. It saves a lot of time and effort and wasted emotional energy.

Everyone should try this. If you feel pissed about something, consider whether it's worth getting worked up about and if it's not -- and really, most things aren't -- don't bother with the flies. This way you'll have plenty of time and energy when something real chafes your hide.