Saturday, February 19, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Dinner of Champions
Ramen and a wine, the dinner of the sad jobless. Wai' where my 40 at?
On a lighter note I baked a cake for my mom's birthday. The butter was old so the whole cake had a tinge of freezer burn flavor; the whipped cream was homemade, flavored with a little cream cheese to make it a little interesting. 6 teaspoons of gelatin as a cream stabilizer was a little too much. The whipped cream smoothed over the freezer flavor. Another win in my book.
Jade tree flowers attracting some birds.
On a lighter note I baked a cake for my mom's birthday. The butter was old so the whole cake had a tinge of freezer burn flavor; the whipped cream was homemade, flavored with a little cream cheese to make it a little interesting. 6 teaspoons of gelatin as a cream stabilizer was a little too much. The whipped cream smoothed over the freezer flavor. Another win in my book.
Jade tree flowers attracting some birds.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Tasty Combination
Candied ginger (the stuff from sushi restaurants) and string cheese (I'm betting any cheese that is like mozzarella will work)
Wasabi Mayo Sandwich
An approximately 1:.5:pinch mayo wasabi pickled ginger (the stuff at sushi places) mixture generously spread on an English muffin, roast beef, raw bell peppers, and (optional) brinned cucumber and carrots*.*1 carrot, .5 cucumber, .5tbsp fish sauce, .5tbps sugar, rice wine vinegar and water (to taste). Put in a jar. Shake. Sit in jar overnight.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Pilsner Glass
The inaugural drink of my pilsner glass (and it wasn't a pilsner!). Got it at Bevmo for $4. Sorry Max, they didn't have any Allagash glasses, otherwise I would have picked one up for myself, too.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Peacocks and Peahens
The Peacock
Stare at male peafowls
Brill'yant feathers impress hens
Men use colored bills
The Peahen
Women hide in masks
The fair peahen appears drab
Flaunt nat'ral beauty
Ah, the complications of life. Even the peafowl cannot escape this.
Stare at male peafowls
Brill'yant feathers impress hens
Men use colored bills
The Peahen
Women hide in masks
The fair peahen appears drab
Flaunt nat'ral beauty
Ah, the complications of life. Even the peafowl cannot escape this.
Haiku Inspired
Spring Kiss
I close my eyes
Flowers flow in the crisp wind
Our lips dance tranquil
Mid-Autumn
Magpie bridge we cross
On rainy day reunite
A kiss ends the tale
Beautiful Woman
When you walk, eyes stop
You glow like the autumn moon
Grace, inside and out
Charity
One life time with us
Too many are given hell
Spread our gift to them
Poems written in boredom. I'm not even writing for a particular person any more. I write inspired by memories of love. I write inspired by stories and myths. I write what's on my mind. As always please criticize or reuse part or whole pieces of what I write. Just comment telling me that you have borrowed, it'll make me feel good.
I close my eyes
Flowers flow in the crisp wind
Our lips dance tranquil
Mid-Autumn
Magpie bridge we cross
On rainy day reunite
A kiss ends the tale
Beautiful Woman
When you walk, eyes stop
You glow like the autumn moon
Grace, inside and out
Charity
One life time with us
Too many are given hell
Spread our gift to them
Poems written in boredom. I'm not even writing for a particular person any more. I write inspired by memories of love. I write inspired by stories and myths. I write what's on my mind. As always please criticize or reuse part or whole pieces of what I write. Just comment telling me that you have borrowed, it'll make me feel good.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Milk and Dates
I am caught in your eyes
Cuts among a billion roughs.
Which wholly cradle my heart.
Your eyes, dates on milk.
I savor every warm sip
As you sweeten my life.
Your gaze bridges our eyes,
Stopping life around us,
Leading me to paradise.
Cuts among a billion roughs.
Which wholly cradle my heart.
Your eyes, dates on milk.
I savor every warm sip
As you sweeten my life.
Your gaze bridges our eyes,
Stopping life around us,
Leading me to paradise.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Haute Muffin and a picture of UCSB
 | The haute egg muffin. A poached egg, slices of salami, brie cheese, sun dried tomatoes.
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Central Coast Drive
Hills sweep calligraphy in the fog
Roads carve through families of hills
In my story I now log
A life of southern beauty fill
Roads carve through families of hills
In my story I now log
A life of southern beauty fill
Cooking
A recipe is a love poem
A love to share with our circle.
To cook is to recite its words
To share is to satiate the soul.
A freestyle is cooking by ear
A recipe of visceral birth
With some experimental jest
Pursuing verses of mirth
A translation is cooking explored
An expression of human taste
Cultural colors dance close
Giving us another way to recite
A cookbook is an anthology
A book of time tested poems.
Embody what words labor to
With food that has pleased many.
Whether a full course meal
Or a simple hot plate
An epic or small free verse
Cooking, it is more than just food.
I recently moved to Santa Barbara, CA. The weather in SoCal is absolutely beautiful. Sunny days with cool breezes and cold, crisp nights with stars shining through the black sky. And the women here... god damn! It's been a tough 4 months, moving on after the breakup with my girlfriend of almost 5 years (my ass got cheated on, lied to and kicked to the curb). But the new environment with all of its pretty things is accelerating moving on.
I'm still coming up with food ideas. Top secret crepe dessert will hopefully make it to the menu of my parents' restaurant. Lets just say it involves ginger. I made a haute egg muffin (English muffin, a poached egg, sliced Italian salami, brie cheese, sun dried tomatoes, a thin slice of apple) for breakfast. Parents didn't hate it which is a thumbs up. I cook dinner almost every night for me and my sister, so I can continue to experiment with food.
I also got a garden started in the backyard. The coastal weather will hopefully bring in some good crops. Pictures of everything! will be posted some day later.
A love to share with our circle.
To cook is to recite its words
To share is to satiate the soul.
A freestyle is cooking by ear
A recipe of visceral birth
With some experimental jest
Pursuing verses of mirth
A translation is cooking explored
An expression of human taste
Cultural colors dance close
Giving us another way to recite
A cookbook is an anthology
A book of time tested poems.
Embody what words labor to
With food that has pleased many.
Whether a full course meal
Or a simple hot plate
An epic or small free verse
Cooking, it is more than just food.
I recently moved to Santa Barbara, CA. The weather in SoCal is absolutely beautiful. Sunny days with cool breezes and cold, crisp nights with stars shining through the black sky. And the women here... god damn! It's been a tough 4 months, moving on after the breakup with my girlfriend of almost 5 years (my ass got cheated on, lied to and kicked to the curb). But the new environment with all of its pretty things is accelerating moving on.
I'm still coming up with food ideas. Top secret crepe dessert will hopefully make it to the menu of my parents' restaurant. Lets just say it involves ginger. I made a haute egg muffin (English muffin, a poached egg, sliced Italian salami, brie cheese, sun dried tomatoes, a thin slice of apple) for breakfast. Parents didn't hate it which is a thumbs up. I cook dinner almost every night for me and my sister, so I can continue to experiment with food.
I also got a garden started in the backyard. The coastal weather will hopefully bring in some good crops. Pictures of everything! will be posted some day later.
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