My first roast!

I was seduced by a gorgeous-looking, gloriously red roast that was on sale. I decided for once to cook it as it was meant to be cooked - intact, and not defatted and chopped into a pile of roughly 4-oz portions destined for garnishing stir-fries. In a slight role reversal, we called his mother for advice - after all, mine wouldn't know anything about cooking a giant hunk of non-cut up, non marinated meat. I think it turned out well.

The jus on this thing...amazing! I could pour it on anything and then still want to lick the plate! I threw a bunch of carrots in there to roast, and they are not pictured because they were eaten up immediately (standing over the stove, with burning fingers, etc.). And I don't even like carrots.

Not quiiiiiite as medium as I'd hoped - much closer to medium well, but it was very tasty and moderately tender. And the smell in the house was divine! (If somewhat fall-like. And lingering.) So there I was, bursting with pride over my very first roast, enjoying the fruits of my non-labor, when I figured out...

...that I was going to have to eat the whole darned thing myself. This week.

At this point I am slightly less enthusiastic about the idea of roasts.

Beloved by the people

It's a wonder why people don't love visiting the dentist. It couldn't be that they find cocksure, maniacally giggling, practically-fist-bumping-through-the-procedure men that endlessly comment on how small mouth size, low pain tolerance, far-back-set teeth, and extraordinary nerve sensitivity make their jobs difficult to be irritating.


Maybe it's the whirring buzz thing.

The trials and trevails

Travel with a work partner is many things, but it all can be boiled down to, "so, what do want YOU want to eat now?"

All day, each day, is dominated by getting three square meals. Work, smurk! By the end of the 2nd day, I am usually sick of eating!!!! And yet, what you are more sick of is talking about eating. You have to bring up, confer, discuss, defer, decide - constantly. Two non-pushy people might talk about where to go in the next few hours for the next few hours. Once the meal is consumed, however, the cycle begins anew. Before, when the magic of per diem graced my life, it was not quite such an issue to perhaps skip a meal or two, or take one for the team. Now, however, each meal has to fit into a budget and an eating plan (eh, possibly). It's really quite exhausting, and a very annoying way to think about one of life's reliable pleasures.

1,000 a day!

Toilets have to come from somewhere, right? Still, it's funny thinking about visiting a place that worships the perfection of toilets. Walking the lines of partially and completely assembled toilets is amusing, but it is very interesting to find out that they are pretty much all-natural. Formed out of clays and water, glazed with minerals and more ceramics, this is probably the most organic product I've ever had the privilege of witnessing in the making. The crowning glory, of course, is the supremely high end Japanese toilets, complete with an unthinkable number of bells and whistles. Warmers and shooting water and music and noisemakers and...circuitry. You might require a remote controls for...??!!

:)

Waffle House everywhere!

The first Waffle House we spotted was cause for delighted crowing, and a vow that we would be eating there at least one morning. By the end of the week (and only one WH visit later) we'd discovered that Waffle Houses had infiltrated the area such that different WH restaurants were available within 2 miles in any direction from the hotel. A bit too much of a good thing?

the madness

must stop.

Tonight, I was denied lemons for my water, being told that those (dirty, nas-TAY!) lemons hold salmonella bacteria (which is apparently taking over the world). Instead of being allowed to take my chances, like a sane adult who really, REALLY wanted a lemon wedge and has an inkling about probability and reasonable risk, I was told that I. Can. Not. Has.

HATE!!!

sad barbecue

Meat! With a side of meat soup (my first time hearing about or trying New Brunswick soup - interesting). Meat that was not seasoned, or roasted with flavorings or sauce, and then coming with only one choice of a topper sauce (that I didn't even like). This is supposed to be family barbecue in the south? And by this point in the trip, we were so sick of fried, buttered, and bbq food that it was our last shot at a southern dinner. Not a winner!

Runway blues

Waiting in the airport is not so bad, comparatively. What I really hate is being held hostage on the runway, with the plane constantly powering up and then back down again, so your cell phones are banned and spirits alternate between wild hope and crushing disappointment. 1.5 hours "enjoying" the runway and watching the thunderstorms rock the commuter jets at DCA, then another hour on the ground in Atlanta because our gate was given away. Blech.

Fruity

We've been adding a lot more tropical fruit in season to the dinner table, and not just for dessert! There was a lot of pineapple in the house during the high (read: on sale) season. Right about now it's mangoes, which go great with so many things. Such as tuna steak:

The sweet-tart-lightness of the fruit nicely offsets the oily, (salty) marinated fish. Delicious!

Not the same

I've had my Chipotle order down for years - black beans, barbacoa, tomato and corn salsas, a touch of sour cream and cheese, and a pile of lettuce. The only that that has changed is that I now get a burrito bowl in favor of an actual burrito. This whole salmonella craze was just a note in the paper - until it affected my lunch! The balance of my meal was completely thrown!!! Without the sweet tartness of the tomatoes, the ingredients did not blend just so. The green tomatillo sauce was NOT a ready substitute! Disappointing. I'll have to remember to stay away until they have my tomatoes back.

Sweet surprise

Carvel for cake day at work:

Can you say, congenial workplace? Ummm, ice cream cake bliss!

Be afraid. Very afraid.

When the (incredibly, reliably) lucky person is stuck at the airport for hours, without any updated flight information or fallback entertainment, in an increasingly grinding temper, the (regularly, spectacularly) unlucky person should prepare for the worst.

(Trembling.)

Explanation

I think this article:

People 'obliged' to visit parents

explains a lot about the way I was raised. Keep in mind that laws requiring financial support for parents are already in effect. This just clarifies that emotional support and evening entertainment are also required of good Chinese children.

Best $ I've ever spent

Going home, but spending the night at a hotel is absolute heresy. I was very uncomfortable with the idea, but went along to keep the peace. And so!

Having a line of strategic retreat, reliable independent transportation, and taking meals separately allowed us to bypass a large part of the awkwardness in daily dealings with prickly sensibilities. Being able to say, truthfully, that you are present not to eat, not to sleep, do not need anything, but truly came spend precious quality time, lends credence to the whole mission. Wielding the unspoken threat that unbecoming behavior could be countered by withdrawal into the mist (and not having to eat mushy peas - hello! We are NOT English!)...powerful stuff.

Still, all of the planned and unplanned benefits paled in comparison with the glorious haven of air conditioning, a cool harbor from the ravages of the 90-plus degree, very high percentage humidity, sudden onslaught of summer with a vengeance. Sometimes you can't, really can't (bear to) go home.

Healed by the power of cancer

Somewhat.

The family was brought together, all three generations, briefly. There were tentative overtures, small steps back and forth, slightly vicious bitterness, and glimpses of pure sweetness. All while basking in the aura of adorable toddler defeats all grumpiness, but perhaps not exhaustion. Can't really recommend the cause, but here's to hoping that something halfway decent will come of it.

A travel day

Boston.

New York.

Baltimore.

Washington, D.C.

Plane.

Ferry.

Automobile.

Add one toddler.

Stir. (Crazy, that is.)

Whew, what a day!

Toddler self esteem

Toddlerhood - the time of life when you are constantly told how pretty, smart, funny, cute and generally wonderful you are, believe it wholly, and act accordingly. Thank goodness most people outgrow this phase...

Power Play

The power at work was out.

The power at my home was not (hooray!).

I should have:

a) Worked diligently at a regular pace at home

b) Worked sporadically at home, with a little extra loafing thrown in, considering how many people don't have power anywhere and were therefore not working at all

c) Worked harder than usual at home, to make up for the lost productivity of those who didn't have power

d) Pretended/fully intended/tried a little to work at home, but ended up loafing due to the siren calls of the teevee, a stack of unread library books, the fridge, and the internet, while working under very light deadlines

I actually did:

(Guess.)

Healthful consumption

The Plan:

If I eat this (makes mouth hurty) cereal

I can still has eggs, right? The oaty goodness will scrub the cholesterol right out of my veins, yes? I'm sure that's how someone explained it to me...

Praise be!

Currently: elated and triumphant

Being good little rule followers, we first tried the far away satellite parking in Bethesda. Knowing that the 12-person minibus could not possibly accommodate the waiting hordes, we almost called it a day, deciding only last-minute to swing by the festival, in case of miracle parking. And miracle parking, indeed!!! Though the whole place was closed up due to overflowing lots and crowds of walkers, and we were forced to perform an inelegant turnaround in a restaurant parking lot mistaken as the last open space on earth, we happened to pull up to Our Lady of the Suddenly Available Parking (to turn around and leave the premises) just as a deaconish fellow was removing the signs designating two special curbside handicapped parking spaces during services!! He waved our unbelieving selves into a plum spot, right across the street from the festival, better parking than we could have dared to hope for, cheerfully making the Lord's day into ours.

The rest of the day was fun - touring a purple house for sale, watching glass goblets being blown, listening to folksy music, inhaling delicious fruity ices, strolling through galleries, trying medieval line dances, admiring (and coveting) crafty trinkets (I could have parted with a lot of cashy $, but mercifully was held back by the desire Make Everything Myself. I Want To Do. It. All. Me! Glass/pottery/wood/stone/fabric goddess-to-be me!), and talking to artisans - but the icing on the cake was seeing the long, long, long minibus line going back to satellite parking, and knowing that we could walk out any time we wanted.

So I might be a slightly malicious little wench, but Jebus still loves me! This I know, for the empirical evidence of positively providential parking tells me so!

Umm umm, good

I present exhibit A:

(aka lunch)

I'm curious to know what constitutes "restaurant quality soup." How does one determine such an attribute? Are my soups, which I must say are quite yummy, but not particularly beautiful, fit for restaurant, or only home consumption? If the absence of preservatives is they key, then my soups might qualify! (Unless salt, the ancient preservative, counts as a preservative in this context.)

While the soup was quite good, comparatively speaking from canned-soup experiences (fresh-tasting, lots of corn bits in a pretty puree, hearty but summery flavor), I found the lack of a pour spout, resealable or not, to be a significant detriment. What if I hadn't had scissors on hand - no soup for me? Very poor planning, on the packager's part. Overall, I'd say B grade as a somewhat convenient lunch option.