The Vaselines

Last Sunday R. and I ventured on a rain-drenched and nearly ill-fated trip to Portland to see one of our favorite bands, the Vaselines. Ill-fated? Indeed. As we were leaving our humble abode (read: total dump), the doorknob broke, and an hour-long debacle of discombobulating the mechanism ensued, peppered with many an obscenity and the frustrated tossing of lock components. By some miracle, R. managed to fix the thing while beating it mercilessly with a hammer while I was out in a blinding rainstorm, cursing the weather, on my way to buy a new doorknob.

Fazed and irritated, we left later than planned but with enough time to perhaps find a nice restaurant and wander about fair Portland. Fate, however, was not on our side, and we ended up lost for about 45 minutes. We eventually found our way to the Wonder Ballroom, wandered, set out in search of food, found none suitable, settled on some rather unfortunate and not entirely agreeable fare, not after being stared-down small-town style in a locals bar, and finally made our way back to the venue, fully drenched from a rather insidious downpour.

Despite all this, however, seeing Frances and Eugene more than made up for our plights, and soon enough we were dry and dancing to Oliver Twisted and I Hate the 80's. Seeing the Vaselines was particularly sweet not only by virtue of their stage banter (Frances is salty and adorable; Eugene wry and witty....), and magical performance, but because R. and I courted and fell in love to their music. We even played Molly's Lips on guitar and mandolin/autoharp together, troubadour-style down neighborhoods and thoroughfares.

Sadly, and somewhat confusingly, the crowd last Sunday was rather small, but this lent an intimate air to the show, and R. and I left satisfied, the madness of the day behind us and forgotten.

***

I highly recommend the Vaselines' new album, Sex With an X. Their sound has become a little more refined, Frances' voice has increased in heavenliness, and the album holds up, if not even surpasses in some ways, their older material. I particularly enjoy their views on younger generations' proclivity towards yearning for decades of yore in which they did not exist. Although I have a predilection for anachronism, and very much admire that of Baudelaire and Plutarch, I must admit that in some aspects nostalgia can take on attributes most irritating, in particular, and in following with the song, this odd worship of all things 1980's is foul and awful. I already loathe the day when the 90's will resurface in some ghastly incarnation.

A lovely quote from Boswell's Life of Johnson:

"...for love is not a subject of reasoning, but of feeling, and therefore there are no common principles upon which one can persuade another concerning it. Every man feels for himself, and knows how he is affected by particular qualities in the person he admires, the impressions of which are too minute and delicate to be substantiated in language."

***

A friend posted this, and I thought I'd share it. I do wish this would happen at my work--Eugene isn't too far from Portland, after all:



For those of you who have never seen The Music Man (tisk):

The Goncourt Brothers

A while back, in March, most likely, I was browsing at a local used book shop and came across Pages From the Goncourt Journals and bought it, not necessarily because I had ever heard of the work or was too particularly interested, but because it was published by NYRB. Yes, dear reader(s), I am a publisher snob. Oh, I do own a Reader's Digest Book Club edition of Moby Dick, but the damn thing is something of a thorn in my side, and I am putting the Penguin version on my birthday list this year. But I degress! Ahem:

While pondering Bourget for a class the name Goncourt appeared, and I immediately rushed over to the library to see what tomes about or by them were available. Until this moment I had kind of written the Journals off and came close to selling the book on a number of occasions, but a light had gone off, and now it seemed necessary to find out more about them.


I found two different English translations of the Journals, the complete French text (why, WHY did I give up on French???), and the brothers' novels and plays, and checked out the English translations. One is quite inferior, translated by Lewis Galantiere, and the other appears to be the standard (as well as the one published by NYRB), by Robert Baldick.

The lives of the brothers Goncourt, or dare I say life, is on the one hand absolutely compelling and quite touching, indeed: two inseparable siblings penning a journal of their mutual exploits, thoughts, and acquaintances. At once they were men of the society and reviled by it. I love how mercurial they were, as well as their rotten constitutions. On the other hand, the two were disagreeable on so many levels, but the genius of the work and their overall talent overshadows their less savory qualities. I'd highly recommend it if you have even a modicum of interest in 19th century lit, French lit, precursors to fin de siecle, belle epoque, or dabble in literature steeped in debauchery.

***

This quarter has me flustered already, but never fear, recipes and more are on the way!

Update

I've fallen behind in entries as school and my new job at the library draw neigh. However, I shall soon post vintage finds and more recipes! Until next week, enjoy this prose version of my favorite Baudelaire poem, The Fountain of Blood. Au revoir!

Sometimes methinks my blood gushes in torrent, as a fountain with rhythm ceaselessly sobbing. Its slow weltering murmur beats in vain for a spurting wound. As in the lists of tourneys of old, my life's blood streams forth o'er the city and in hurrying stream speeds down her ways, until in the flood each stone stands out a lonely islet and everything that walks or creeps with the red liquid is glutted. Vampire all Nature shows and livid. Of guileful wines oft have I asked respite of a day from the terror that preys, but in treachery they sharpen mine eyes and keen mine ears. In Love have I sought a slumber Lethean, but Love is to me but a bed of quick, pitiless needles that pierce my flesh and drain my veins white.

"But a dandy can never be a vulgar man" --Baudelaire

Seattle Light of Love

A few weeks ago Ryan and I took a trip to Tacoma to visit some family. Since I had never gone to Seattle (after living in the Pacific NW for 5 years!) we decided to take the ultimate tourist-y day trip to the city. No tiny shops. No independent art galleries. That's right, I'm talking about Pike Place Market, the SAM, and the Space Needle!

I want to live in this room.

I do love reliquaries.

Medieval viewers were so outraged at the two men scourging Jesus that they scratched the eyes from the figures' heads.

After conducting lengthy research about Medieval retables and devotional altarpieces, I found the above triptych of particular interest.

A most glorious day, indeed.

Fryolated Goodness

Up until this spring, I had never tried my hand at frying foods. The notion brought to mind greasy conflagrations and bodily injury, but the pull of lumpia (aka: absolute ambrosia) was too seductive to ignore, and thus, for Ryan's birthday weekend, I ventured into the unctuous canola latitudes.


Traditionally my mom has filled her lumpia with a mix of carrot, green onion, mung bean, ground beef, and loads of garlic and ginger. This combination is absolutely fantastic, but I veered from the beaten path and made two different variations. The first followed my mom's recipe, only I omitted the meat, as cooking beef didn't sound agreeable, and I wanted a PKU-friendly lumpia. The second filling was an innovation: a kind of extrapolation from the descriptions of samosas Ryan had given me. Here are two lists of ingredients for each filling:

Filling the First

2+ carrots, shredded in a food processor or with a hand grater

1 bunch green onions, chopped

1 bag mung beans

Fresh ginger and garlic, shredded*

Soy sauce*

Dessicated ginger and garlic*


Filling the Second

2+ Russet potatoes, cubed quite small

1 large yam, cubed as above

1 1/2 cups frozen peas

Dessicated: curry, masala, turmeric, cumin, ginger, garlic*

2 tbs light soy sauce*

1 tbs chutney

*To taste

These lists are not exact, as handed down and made up on the spot recipes are wont to be. Simply use your best judgment and play with the taste as you go along.

Other Ingredients Used with Both Fillings:

Egg roll wrappers (2 packages)

Corn starch

Water

Oil for frying

Dipping sauce (sweet and sour is my favorite, but wasabi, Mae Ploy, and others are also tasty)

Method

For filling one, shred carrots, ginger and garlic together in a food processor, and place in a wok or large pan. Stir fry along with mung beans and chopped onions, seasoning to taste, until all the vegetables are soft. Remove mixture and drain excess moisture in a colander.

For filling two, cube the potatoes and yam and stir fry in a wok with spices, soy sauce, and chutney until slightly mushy. Add the peas a few minutes before removing mix from wok.

To assemble the lumpia, begin by dissolving a little cornstarch in water, achieving a slightly watery consistency. With your fingers, spread cornstarch water around the edges of an egg roll wrapper. This will help hold the lumpia together during frying. Filling the wrapper is a trial and error process. You may arrange the wrapper in a diamond configuration or keep it square; I prefer the former. Too much filling will break the wrapper or cause it to explode in the oil, and too little will make the lumpia chewy. Place the filling in the middle of the wrapper.

Fold the top side down over the filling first, tuck the edges in, and roll tightly. If the wrapper won't seal, add a little more of the cornstarch glue.

In a large, deep, flat-bottomed pan, heat enough oil to cover or nearly cover the lumpia. Deep fry until the wrappers are golden brown and bubbly. Drain on a paper towel and serve with dipping sauce.

Yes, they are a lot of work (we didn't eat until around 10 pm) but it's worth it!

***

A few months ago, I made my second major fore into all things fried and made some corn fritters. They came out a little chewy, but they were simple to prepare and damned tasty.


Here's the recipe:

Corn Fritters

2 cups thawed frozen corn

3 egg whites

3 tbs corn starch

2 tbs chopped green onions

2 tsp dessicated garlic

A dash of pepper and salt

Oil for frying

Beat the eggs a little and whisk in the corn starch, garlic, salt, and pepper.

Mix in the corn and green onions.

Add 1/2 inch of oil to a deep frying pan, and when oil is hot, drop 1/4 cup portions of the mix into the oil. Fry for about 2 minutes on each side. Remove from oil and drain thoroughly. Serve hot with soy sauce or hoisin sauce.

The Queen of Hearts Meets King Cake

Today's installment is yet another retrospective, as my proclivity towards lassitude prevented me from posting these in a more timely manner (7 months ago). Let us begin with a trip to Eugene's Rose Garden:


When I moved here, many spoke of the rose gardens this, and the rose gardens that, but I never had a clue what they meant, and figured it was some canard told only to frustrate me. Finally, this past June, Ryan and I embarked on a bike tour of the grounds--we don't live far away from them, it turns out--and what a florid garden it is. Behold:


Millefiori! My photographs do the place no justice, and one would really require the mythical smell-o-vision to fully appreciate this horticultural wonder. I'd highly recommend you visit, but watch out, as heart-shaped trellises attract brides like bees to honey.


Now let's go back...way back...to Fat Tuesday 2010. I try to bake something different each Mardi Gras, although usually I end up making crepes with strawberries and blood oranges. However, after a year of anticipation and talking it up, this past February I made a king cake. Oh, the interweb overfloweth with recipes, and after much thought and pantry assessment, I decided to follow this one, omitting the pecan filling and plastic baby (seriously, they come in packs, what the hell am I going to do with all those? I certainly don't have enough friends, let alone king cake-making friends, to justify a pack of babies). Now if you decide to make this next Mardi Gras, you may find yourself stuck in a number of quandaries, one being "This brioche is damn pretty--I've got to frost it?"


The answer is yes, unless you want to use sprinkles, which would be silly, because frosting is delicious and you know it.


Next you may fret "This king cake is orgasmic, but wait, my good for nothing roommates and I have eaten the whole thing. Do I really have to wait a nearly a whole year to make another?" Again, yes, for tradition's sake, damn it (!), but don't worry, friend, for you see, this recipe serves as an ideal base for making superior caramel rolls and the like. Sure, these won't be the Technicolor wonder that is king cake, but Twelfth Night draws neigh.....