NaBloPoMo Day 10: Failed Macarons and the Day

Feeling a bit out of sorts today. So I thought I'd go all the way and look at a spectacular baking failure from last year.

These are supposed to be Parisian macarons.

Parisian macarons have been huge in Japan for several years and it's recently caught on in the US in the past couple of years. So I finally bought a book (shown below, with pics of what real macarons are supposed to look like) and tried out the basic recipe last year and this is what I got.

I have no idea what I did wrong. I have a feeling the almond powder I got from Surfa's wasn't the same as the almond powder called for in the recipe. I know I also have problems with the uneven/unreliable heat in the oven, and maybe I didn't get the baking time right.

Oh well, more to improve on next time.

Daily Life 
Today, or rather, the past 18 hours or so, hasn't been great. I don't know if these things are happening because I feel down, or they're getting me down because they're happening. Plus, I don't know if I'm just manufacturing some fake "sky is falling" symptoms just because all these things seem to be happening at the same time. But just for future reference so I can maybe laugh at it one day, here's the list:

• Dropped a jar of kosher salt on the kitchen counter and floor (5% damage)
• Dropped a bag of steamed lentils on the kitchen floor (10% damage)
• Burned focaccia in the oven (20% damage)
• Got out of morning routine, forgot earrings, necklace and hair clip (15% damage)
• Got off at wrong bus stop (10% damage)
• Got bad news from a friend (35% damage)

So I'm running on about 5% life right now. If I was a character in a video game, my life indicator will be flashing red. I guess I shouldn't be too negative. At least it gave me something to write about.

Busy day at work, haven't caught up on the news at all. Glad it's gloomy outside, kind of fits the mood. I might have been kind of annoyed if it was sunny.

NaBloPoMo Day 9: Pea Rice and a Book

Green Peas Rice (mame-gohan) is a popular dish in Japan and among Japanese in the US. When I was little, I used to hate it. I hated the mushiness of the peas and how it made the rice smell stinky. Over the past few years, I had read various Japanese bloggers rave about making peas rice with English peas from the farmers market, and the one I go to had a big box of shelled peas so I gave it a try last summer. Oh my gosh, heaven in a bowl.

The recipe I referenced included a splash of sake, and also cooking the peas separately and letting them cool by dumping the whole pot of peas and hot water into a bowl, then putting that bowl into a larger bowl with ice and water, to let the water and peas cool at the same time. The water that the peas were boiled in was used to cook the rice, then the peas were added toward the end of the rice-cooking. This kept the peas firm and perfectly brightly green, like emeralds, and the sake made the fragrance of the peas so much sweeter.

I made it about five times last summer, but this year I was only able to make it once. Below is this year's, made with brown rice and accompanied by miso-sesame broccoli and simmered bamboo shoots, carrots, chicken and shiitake.

In the News

Well, thank goodness Amendment 26 was soundly defeated in Mississippi. I guess "personhood" is a pretty extremist view even among the anti-abortion circles. I'm glad cooler heads prevailed in this fight, and kudos to the grassroots movement in Mississippi that advocated No on 26.

But Mississippi approved a voter-ID requirement for voting. One step forward, two steps back. Even though I'm just a bystander, sometimes I feel discouraged by the myriad of assaults on human and civil rights. Why do we have to keep revisiting voting rights??

Today's Reading
I just finished reading a book earlier this week. It kind of started out slow, and I wasn't sure if it was really my kind of book, but I got really hooked about halfway through, and by the end I was so engrossed that I missed my bus stop.

"Shokudou Katatsumuri" (Little Snail Diner) by Ito Ogawa is a book from 2008. It's already been made into a movie of the same name (in English: Rinco's Restaurant).

The story revolves around Rinko, whose live-in boyfriend disappeared one day with all of their belongings and money, and she was left with a jar of pickling base that was handed down from her grandmother.

In shock, she leaves behind her life in the city and heads to her rural home. She realizes that she's lost her voice from the trauma. At home, she is found by her estranged mother, and gets help to start a small restaurant on her mother's property.

Trained as a cook in many different restaurants, and with a deep, soulful connection to food and cooking, Rinko creates many magical dishes from locally-sourced meats, vegetables and fruits. She only serves one set of customers at a time, and when she can she'll interview them (meeting in person but writing on paper) so she can assess foods important to them, what they're desiring now, etc.

The story gets a little predictable but I really, really enjoyed this book. Normally I don't read these "chick-flick" type stories. Ms. Ogawa's writing is so lyrical. She goes into great detail about the freshness of the beets grown in the neighbor's garden, the fresh bread she bakes daily for her mother's pet pig (!), the feel of the little depressed rabbit suffering from anorexia (!!). It's a little fantasy-like, but doesn't really get unbelievable, and there are successes and setbacks, and they are all dealt with reasonably, I think.

I'm trying to pinpoint why exactly I liked this book so much. I think it's the respect the writer shows to nature, food, cooking, and people. But it's not like the writer is too nice or naive - she writes frankly about relationships, brash nature of some rural people, possibly evil people. I also loved the use of language - a modern-style narrative, peppered with what I can only describe as "classic" words - beautiful descriptive words and phrases that are generally only seen in classical texts (I think, maybe it's just my ignorance - it's certainly not seen in newspapers and magazines and such).

Interestingly, this book (the main story, anyway - there was a side story included at the end) had NO chapters. Maybe that contributed to the lyrical flow of the story. It felt like I was gliding down a peaceful river in a lush, green forest amidst rays of soft sunlight. I hope that's what the writer was trying to convey.

NaBloPoMo Day 8: Lemons and Perfection

The lemons, they are a-coming. Our Meyer lemon tree had lots of green fruit on it when I went to the backyard this past weekend. Hopefully this cold spell will make them really sweet. The photo is of a Honey Lemon Poundcake I made and took to work. It's a Japanese recipe - I think I keep doing something wrong with the measurements. I know now that the volume in 1 US cup is different (240mL) from 1 Japanese cup (200mL). The teaspoon and tablespoon measurements might be off, too. I'll just have to be more careful, or I'll end up with strangely dense but holey cakes like this (although I got no complaints).

Today's reading
Actually I read this yesterday but it stuck in my mind.

"How to Give Feedback to a Perfectionist"

I'm a self-admitted perfectionist, though as a manager I try to be very conscious about not hoisting that expectation onto my staff. But I think I've mellowed out a bit over the years, and I definitely never thought of not meeting a deadline as an option just to perfect a task.

How can you be a true perfectionist if you miss deadlines?

In my mind, a perfectionist never misses deadlines and produces flawless work with seeming ease. To me, if you miss a deadline, no matter how fabulous a report you turn in, you failed. And ultimately, that's how I identify with being a perfectionist - I hate to fail.

But in my head I do know that failure can be healthy. And, it's natural, bound to happen sometimes. So I don't get too bent out of shape about it. I almost feel like the so-called perfectionists that this author refers to have some kind of psychological problem - why do they obsess with not wanting to make mistakes, to the point deadlines are missed? What's that old saying - cutting off your nose to spite your face?

I've seen this in some people, which I find puzzling. Why do people worry obessively about not making mistakes, even though they've taken no steps to learn from previous mistakes nor put in safeguards, as much as reasonable, to avoid making mistakes? It's like reviewing a draft letter over and over because a typo was found last time, but not using spellcheck.

Sometimes it seems like we are beginning to lack in common sense. We spend years learning technical skills or complex management theories and lose sight of basic, common sense. Like, does it need to be taught in school or first-day work orientations that deadlines shouldn't be missed? If so, we're in a pretty sad state of the world.

Though I am the first to admit, I've missed deadlines. But I always give a day or more notice, as soon as I realize I can't meet a deadline - usually it's because something unforeseen has come up, it's an unreasonable request, etc. - and I give a revised deadline to get agreement on, or sometimes when something just can't wait, that's when the all-nighter comes in.

Managing expectations is the name of the game.

I also had a slight issue with one of this author's recommendations - the one about sharing a work-in-progress. I've tried it and I have to say, sometimes it's effective, sometimes it's not. It's effective when the requestor believes that something is truly a rough draft or a work in progress and that the final product may contain slightly or possibly wildly different results, or you're able to present just a framework of analysis and fill in the rest with talk. For example, if some people are looking for some sort of budget summary from me, I try not to provide a work-in-progress because when some people see numbers, even if I say "I haven't pulled in all the data sources so numbers might change", they latch on to that number and bring it up later - "you said in your draft that the target was $x. Why is it $y now?" and I just want to scream, "that was a draft and had no basis in reality!". So I think if I were to give advice on something like this, I'd make this point. It's all about context, really.

I do have to hand it to this author about the last point - sometimes, the perfectionist gets stuck on using the same strategies over and over. I guess I've always associated perfectionism with tangile tasks and outcomes, not with strategy. I think this is one thing I'll pay particular attention to as I go through my work days. This author frames it in a sense that the going to the same strategies is bad if they don't work. But I think the takeaway is, even if they work to some extent, I should be open to other strategies because they might produce better outcomes.

Final note
Mississippi: No on 26. Please.

NaBloPoMo Day 7: Fish Soup

Day 7! One whole week! I'm celebrating with a grande green tea latte, nonfat milk, no syrup. Not that I need a reason to celebrate to get that but anything helps on a Monday at 6:30 am!



When I take the bus home, I can take one of several routes, which is nice. Since I have to make one transfer whatever route I take, there are many permutations of lines I can take, although it kind of sucks that the later it gets, the farther in between are the buses. FYI, MTA, 7 pm is not really late for a commute home. Just ask the people stuck on the freeways.

Anyway, I've seen this Central American restaurant many times during my commute and have been wanting to try it. Finally, last Friday, as one late bus resulted in a missed connection, rather than wait in the cold for 20 minutes, I walked over to the restaurant. I was craving warm soup, so I ordered the Sopa de Mojarra (tilapia soup). It took longer than I hoped (i.e. had to take the next bus) but it was fine, I was in no rush. There were just a few families in the restaurant - maybe it gets busy later? But I noticed most had ordered the 7 Mares soup. Must try that next time.

They're also open at 6 am for breakfast, and those breakfasts, while meat-heavy, look awesome. Something to look forward to, for sure.

The soup came out with the fish and soup packed separately, with bags of lime and chopped onion and cilantro, and a side of pupusas. Oh, the wonderful smell. Good thing the bus ride home was less than 15 minutes.

I thought maybe $14.95 was kind of pricy but they gave me an entire fish, cut in threes. This made four meals for me, so actually the price is totally worth it. The taste? OK, admittedly it wasn't spectacular but I thought it was a very well-made dish, lots of aromatics in the soup, not too salty, great balance with the flaky fish and pungent onions and cilantro. Perfect after a cool night of bus commuting.

Places like this makes busriding so much more enjoyable than just getting from point A to point B.

El Baron de Centroamerica
4212 W. Pico Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90019
(323) 954-1384

NabloPoMo Day 6: 'Tis the Season

Day 6!

It's the holiday season. No, really. This year, I promise myself to start the holiday baking and related prep early. Like, now. I've already made the list of victims giftees and inventoried the boxes from last year, and went to Surfa's to get a few more that I needed. This week, I need to decide on what cookies to make, calculate the quantities of ingredients I need, inventory what I have, then go shopping for the rest. People seem to think this holiday baking is a lot of work but I really like the right-brain-ness of the tasks that need to be done. Will update the progress, if only because it'll make an easy post. Hahahaha.

No deep thoughts or burning questions today. Feeling kind of mellow and tired.

Walked in the rain with my friend Jenni this morning. It was glorious! I love the rain, even if it was a little windy and stormy. I don't know when was the last time I walked in the rain or even drove through it. Whenever I walk in the rain, I suddenly feel like I'm seven-years-old again, walking to and from swim lessons, marveling at the myriad of hydrangeas lining my walking route and the cascading shades of pink, blue and purple.

I've seen some hydrangeas in the LA area but they don't seem to be too popular. Do they require too much water? I guess they are not native to the area. Although I totally support the planting of native plants and drought-resistant plants to minimize the amount of water needed to maintain a garden and yard here, I do have a soft spot in my heart for hydrangeas. But the ones I've seen around here don't seem to be as full and lush as the ones in Japan. But then again, the rains in Japan are much different from the ones here so I suppose that helps to explain the difference. That, and the soil content. I love how the pH level in the soil affects the color of the hydrangeas. So scientific, yet artful. Very cool.

About where we walked - for the past nine weeks, we've walked up the steps of the Baldwin Hills Scenic Overlook. It is a project of the California State Parks, and supposedly one phase of a larger parks project that should convert much of the Baldwin Hills, including I presume a lot of the oil fields that maybe no longer produce oil, and connect to the Kenneth Hahn Regional Park. I didn't realize this until recently but the walking trail that was cut into the hills going up to View Park on Stocker Avenue is also part of the same project. Somehow they're all supposed to connect. I hope they do in my lifetime!

I remember many years ago when I was working as a community activist, I attended several information sessions on the need for parks and green space in LA, how LA City at the time (maybe still) had one of the lowest per-capita green space in the country. There were representatives there from the Tree People and LA Conservation Corps, as well as other groups, but I don't recall much tangible coming out of there. It seemed like an insurmountable task, really, to create green space in urban areas. Issues of acquiring land, cleaning and maintaining the park, and others stymied us as we knew there were very limited funding for these types of projects as a stand-alone project.

A few years ago, I was with my mom and she wanted to go walk around Lacy Park in San Marino so we went. I was shocked to find out that the park is free only to residents of San Marino (might even have been that particular area around the park) and, at least on the weekends, I think, they charge a couple of bucks to non-residents to "use" the park.

This was kind of sad to see. I daresay San Marino has a way higher amount of green space per capita than the city of LA or even neighboring cities like Alhambra. And yet, I suppose it's natural instinct to protect what you have, but for an outsider like me, it seems so selfish. I realize the residents are paying taxes to maintain the park. But is that reason enough to close it off or at least put up some barrier to entry for non-residents?

I guess one lesson is, though, that to have a successful park project, the residents surrounding the park need to really take ownership, and care for it and protect it. How do we do this in urban areas where people live in homeless shelters and worry about when they might eat next? Where people spend two hours on the bus after work and come home after dark?

I wish I could come up with answers for these problems. Actually, I think I need to come up with better questions. Somehow I feel like I keep asking the same root question. Hopefully this spate of daily blogging will trigger something in my brain and come up with something useful by the end of the month.

Need to do some testing for work and then off to bed. Another week of daily posting to come, I hope!

NaBloPoMo Day 5: Football, Food and Volunteering

Day 5. The weekends will be a challenge, although theoretically I should have more time to write. It's 10:23 pm now, let's see what I can bang out in 1.5 hours.

OK, this pic is a couple of years old but it's me and Jonathan "Jet Ski" Franklin, UCLA star running back. Just had to post, because we were at the thrilling game where UCLA eked out a 1-point win over Arizona State to tie for first place in the Pac-12 South. It wasn't always pretty but a win's a win.

Earlier today, I volunteered with a group of Anderson alums and current students, as well as University of Virginia alums, at the Los Angeles Regional Food Bank. I hadn't ever been there but I've known about it and its good work since years ago. I might have even donated money some time ago.

So I met up with some friends there, and there were lots of other groups there, from KPMG, various USC student and alumni groups, and others. Probably, oh I don't know, 100 people in total? Maybe more. So we broke up into groups and were put into different areas of the warehouse to sort produce, bread and other foods. The UCLA/UVA group sorted bread and squash.

Anyway, the only reason I mention this is, while I realize the need for organizations like the LA Regional Food Bank, I must say I'm still not comfortable with groups like ours volunteering for just a few hours one Saturday. It's a little hard to articulate, and I was talking to a friend last night and couldn't quite get across what I wanted to say.

So here's my beef (no pun intended) - I could be totally off, but I feel like well-to-do people use volunteer opportunities like this to feel good about themselves, like they're so concerned about the plight of the poor or the homeless or whoever is being served. In the meantime, they continue to drive their luxury cars, go out to eat at expensive steakhouses and shop at Whole Foods.

After they're done with their three hours of volunteer work looking at donated bread to make sure there is no mold, no holes, and there are nutrition facts and expiration dates on the package and packing them into boxes, they go on their merry way, not giving the social ills plaguing the poor and disenfranchised much through for the rest of the year.

Maybe, just maybe, they do go back to their daily lives and urge their Congress people or state legislators to do something about the unemployment rate, or the cost of health care, or the cost of child care, or the cost of housing. Maybe they also donate money to the food bank or other organizations that help feed the poor. Maybe they run their own businesses and actively create jobs and hire locally. Maybe they're blogging about their experiences and getting the word out among their friends and family to encourage them to do something. Do they support raising taxes to increase services to the poor? Do they protest cuts to Medicare, food stamps, and education? Maybe, hopefully.

I think that because I am more used to thinking about root causes of social issues like hunger and joblessness and trying to address them at that level rather than the immediate needs, that I feel kind of frustrated at people who eagerly volunteer to drive to south LA for a few hours and think they're helping to eradicate hunger or poverty.

My friend had also done this type of volunteering at the food bank several times in the past, and she was telling me that the reason why she did it was because there is a real, immediate need now and that's what she wanted to address, even though she knew it doesn't do anything about the long-term root causes.

I think what bothers me is how easy it seems to get a 100-person turnout for a 3-hour stint like this, while I'm not sure that these people, or their friends and family, will come out to a rally at City Hall, let's say, to protest the number of homes foreclosed upon in the city, or lobby their local representatives about the issue.

I know I'm not doing as much as I should or could be about all these root causes, and admittedly, mine was one of the luxury cars lining 41st Street this morning, so I'm being a bit hypocritical. But as I watched all the Mercedes, BMWs, Infinitys, and other cars, I couldn't help but to wonder - if all of us donated $1,000 a year, which surely we could afford if we're able to afford these cars, to nonprofits like the food bank or CPAF or LTSC, or even foundations like the California Endowment, how much more effectively can we address the root causes?

Just wondering.

NaBloPoMo Day 4: More Bread and Japanese

Day 4. No longer a "mikka bouzu". Phew.

In my continuing quest to use up bread flour, I tried making this rosemary focaccia. The mixing and kneading went well, but the rising didn't, not so much. Since I usually bake at night and it's been getting cold, I've been setting the oven to the lower temperature and letting the dough proof in there, but I recently read another recipe that said to put a vat of hot water in the lower rack in the oven, then let the dough rest in the rack above it. So I'll try that next time. This one was a little dense for my taste, but some people at work really liked it. Til next time.

On Language
I speak Japanese conversationally. I can help guide Japanese tourists around Santa Monica, but can't discuss economic policies or Buddhist philosophy with them. Having grown up bilingual and bicultural, I think in both languages. (I so related to Paulina Sahagun's "Two Channels" when I saw her perform as part of "A Slice of Rice, Frijoles and Greens" in college.)

Anyway, the other day for some reason, I was thinking about units for counting. It might have been because I was in the Dr. Seuss section of the bookstore and saw "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish".

In Japanese, there are unique ways of referring to units of measure, depending on what is being counted. So counting fish would be ippiki, nihiki, sanbiki, yonhiki, the unit being "hiki" (which changes to "piki" or "biki" depending on what number precedes it). This unit can be used for some animals like dogs and cats, too, but sometimes it's more appropriate to use "tou" (meaning head) for big animals like bulls (ittou, nitou, santou, yontou). Birds are counted in "wa" (meaning "feather") - ichiwa, niwa, sanwa, yonwa.

Even inanimate objects have specific units. If you're counting chairs, the unit is "kyaku" (ikkyaku, nikyaku, sankyaku, yonkyaku), although most people in Japan will accept the use of "ko" (generic term for unit - ikko, niko, sanko, yonko). But why not impress them by using "kyaku"? :)

Plates are counted in "mai" - ichimai, nimai, sanmai, yonmai - which is the same unit used for sheets of paper. Books are counted in "satsu" (issatsu, nisatsu, sansatsu, yonsatsu). I think my favorite is squid - yes, squid has its own unit of measure and it is "hai" - ippai, nihai, sanpai, yonhai. Which, interestingly, is the same unit for glasses filled with beverages ("beeru wo ippai kudasai" - I'd like a glass of beer). Empty glasses, however, are counted in "ko". I can go on and on, there are so many of these different units. Each time one came to my mind, I was struck by the creativity and precision of the language. Amazing.

I guess the English language has something similar, in describing groups - flock of sheep, gaggle of geese, band of brothers. It's so interesting how different languages operate. I might have liked to be a linguistics researcher, if that paid the bills! :)

Today's Reading
Very briefly, but I read this today and couldn't help but be outraged at the initial piece, then amazed and uplifted by the response.

Apparently a conservative nut wrote about how Feminism has hurt women and society. When I read this, I was so flabbergasted. How can anyone think like this? How can he twist the facts and not see the fallacies of his arguments?

Then I read fully the very smart, reasonable response and was relieved. And I laughed, especially at the "Manly Men (TM)". I really don't have much to add or say anything better, but I am just so ever-impressed by talented, intelligent writers who can dissect arguments and provide well-justified and clear rebuttals. I aspire to write like that someday.