Paris, je t'aime...?

scene from a bus

It's been a while since my last post, but how can I not be inspired to write something when in Paris? I've been in France for just over 12 hours and in Paris for well under (there was some drama at the airport... hence, I didn't get to my hotel until about 9:15).

Way back before I got here (you know, 13 hours ago), I thought I'd be crying with love tears as I walked around Paris, drinking in the ambiance and the warmth that comes with people who aren't stoic and who talk to strangers. One of the first things I noticed when I got on the bus was that there were waaaaaaaay fewer people listening to iPods (and the like) than one sees in Tokyo (including moi... haven't had an urge to listen to the iPod since I got here). People were making noise in real life and listening to the noise that other people were making. It felt less and more isolating at the same time. Because Paris is just such a smaller city than Tokyo is, people/friends/colleagues/schoolmates travel around together much more often than happens in Tokyo. It's not abnormal to have a group of people all going together to the same place via the same route. So, there are people laughing and chatting and arguing all around. Iin a way, it made me feel like a part of the scene--hey, I'm sitting on that bus, too... or at the next table in the cafe, or on the other end of the park bench. But, on the other hand, it also seems to accentuate how much you (I) am sitting all by your (my) lonesome.

Maybe it's just jet lag... or the pee smell everywhere (was it always this strong?)... but I'm not crying the love tears. I guess this is just how you feel sometimes when you go "home," and I definitely feel like Paris is one of my homes--nothing to get too excited about, but all the same, still a comfort to be here and nice to be around the familiar. Even though I lived here for less time than I've spent in Tokyo, I definitely feel more able to be integrated here... for better or for worse (it's definitely sink or swim here).

view from my room

The good thing is that I'm getting a chance to reconnect with people and with places. I've gone shopping already (Gap was having a jeans sale) and will be looking for shoes that I don't need to buy in the tranny store, and I've already got a recommendation for a place to get my hair cut in Florence. The challenge is definitely still here (as with any "foreign" living experience), but somehow it just seems slightly more (and also less... hi there mixed signals!) manageable here. But when the day starts out with a cute old dog presenting its belly for a good rub and scratch in the quaint little hotel lobby, life can't be all bad.

official greeter at hotel

A Desk of One's Own

I've had desks all my life. Desks to study at, desks to read at, desks to draw at, desks to type at, desks to play computer games at. You get the picture. I've had desks for many, many purposes.

To date, the best desk I've ever had was in Washington, DC, between fall of 2000 and spring of 2001. I bought this massive, huge slab of desk at Ikea, it was probably as big as a door. It had a small set of drawers hanging off one side and then beautiful, blank open space. I piled books, journal article printouts, class folders, tons of wire-ring notebooks filled with my scribbled notes from classes with fancy and inspiring names like "The US in World Affairs" (I wrote my infamous Hawaiian independence paper for that class), "Analysis of US Foreign Policy" (the paper for this class was published in an undergraduate research journal), "Intro to IR Research" (there was literally one piece of existing research on the topic I developed for this class... my paper did not add much to that though, sadly), and "Emerging Issues in Intelligence" (we had former spies as guest lecturers!). I felt so smart and productive at that desk and, you know, I got shit done.

Yes, the shit got done with lots of sleepless nights, lots of tears (once in front of a professor, not a high point in my academic career), traumatic reading assignments (read My Traitor's Heart and you will never see this world the same again... bawling, I tell you, baaaawling, Maggie knows what I'm talking about), but, nonetheless, at the end of the day, my shit got done. I had all my papers and my printer and my laptop on that desk and there was still room to set down a bottle of grape soda and some take out (thank you Kozmo.com, you are missed) and hunker down for some Sims and laughs with Maggie or wait for Katy to finish whipping up something amazing in the kitchen. My flamenco shoes and castanetas were probably thrown in there for good measure somewhere along the way. Then came graduation and the desk got a new mom, but it will always have a special place in my heart.

When I moved to Tokyo in 2006, with a blank canvas for an apartment, I wanted to create a writing space for myself. I'd never had a desk to write at; just a clear, clean, simple space, with perhaps a pretty view or something calm to look at, with sun, so I could sit down and type or scribble away like a wannabe Jane Austen or George Sands or Jo March or some other iconic female writer (not Virginia Woolf, she's too sad). Of course, the desk I'd had at college would've taken up practically my entire apartment in Tokyo, so I had to downsize a bit, but that was okay. How much space do you need to write... right? Apparently, I need a lot. All that other crap that I stowed on my giant desk has found residence on my mini-desk, to the point that the desk is just there to hold up the junk rather than to sit at and write.

I did okay with it for a while in the beginning. I even bought myself a little plant with pretty yellow flowers on it. But the plant soon died and the papers grew. There are piles of them now. I go through them every once in a while, but, at this point, I think they're winning.

I got rid of my TV recently and cleaned off my "dining table" (a.k.a. junk-holder-upper part deux), so now the top is clear and there are even pretty candles and candleholders on it... but underneath, the mess resides and heaves and grows and reproduces somehow. My "undertable" is a quasi-storage area for all the bags (duffle bags, weekend travel bags, travel backpacks, computer backpacks, etc. ... it's more than just a little reminiscent of Bubba and his shrimp list).

So, this is how I find myself, dear reader, late at night, hunched up in bed, with my little netbook nestled against my thighs and my hands and arms braced against my torso so that I can "comfortably" type this little post instead of elegantly or tragically or dramatically or at least comically sat at my little writing desk drafting prose that would bring tears. I must remember the words of encouragement given to me by my choreography teacher a few years ago when I was certain I'd never be able to finish choreographing my first dance without time in a big studio with real live dancers in front of me. She said (yes, Virginia, this is really true), "Remember, Paula Abdul choreographed her first dance for the Laker Girls in front of her bathroom mirror." I know it's funny and dated (and impossible not to link to the now infamous Paula, she of the "Straight Up" and "Opposites Attract" and, sadly, crazy silliness of American Idol), but, in a way, it's actually good advice.

Not having an ideal writing space isn't the end of the world and making it so is just an excuse for an excuse to not write. I don't know if I'll ever get that just right (write) writing space and desk that's clean and clear with a comfy chair and just waiting, jumping, bubbling, begging to help foster all my thoughts to come out of my head, through my arm and my hand, and onto a page (all this amazing writing would of course be put to journals for the benefit of posterity). In the meantime, if Paula could do it, then so can I.

Lotus Root (Renkon) Tofu Stir-Fry

This one is easy to make and eat (with or without rice).

Ingredients (all the measurements are guesstimates):
1 big lotus root/renkon (or 2 smaller ones), peeled, large dice
1/2 a medium onion, diced
1 package fried tofu, cubed
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 tsp dried chili pepper (adjust according to taste)
salt, to taste
water
slivered almonds (optional)
Indonesian sweet soy sauce

1. Heat oil, add lotus root.
2. Add chili pepper, salt.
3. Saute for 10 minutes, until the lotus root has started to brown.
4. Add onion, saute a few minutes.
5. Add tofu, saute until cut sides of tofu start to brown.
6. Add water, a little bit at a time. This is to help cook the lotus root. There just needs to be enough to get a little bit of simmer going. Stir until the water is absorbed. Taste a piece of lotus root to check crunchiness-level. I like my lotus root still pretty crunchy, so I only do this water thing maybe two or three times. For softer lotus root, go through this water thing maybe three or four times.
   
7. Add Indonesian sweet soy sauce, stir.
8. Add almonds (could also be peanuts or cashews).
   
9. Saute maybe 2 more minutes to give the sauce a chance to be absorbed.
10. Serve and enjoy!
    

Clearly based on these photos, I do not have a future in food photography. But, trust me, it's yum and relatively healthy (esp. if you ditch the rice or have it with brown rice).

"Mexican" Bruschetta

Sorry, the name for the recipe is lame, but it's the best I could do (it's cuz of the garlic and avocado). Olé.

This one is easy and seriously, holy shize, OMG tasty.

"Mexican" Bruschetta

Ingredients:

Some good lookin' tomatoes (not too sweet), diced
Fresh basil, rinsed and roughly chopped
1 ripe avocado, diced
Fresh mozzarella (not the hard stuff), diced
Crushed garlic (I use the stuff from the tube or the jar... again, I'm anti-stinky fingers)
A couple glugs of olive oil
Salt and pepper

Note: This salad is best served with all ingredients at room temperature. Yes, the cheese, too. Trust me. It won't kill you. I think (this is my disclaimer).

Serve on top of (toasted) French bread rounds or homemade olive oil croutons (this is easy too, recipe below).

Total time: less than 10 mins
(i.e., good to make when you're starving and want food that isn't pizza or other junk fast, or if you're invited to a picnic and you don't want to cook something that involves fire)

1. Put diced tomatoes into a medium-sized bowl, add a little salt.
2. Add basil, mozzarella, garlic, olive oil, pepper.
3. Add avocado and gently mix into salad.
4. Eat with bread!

Olive oil croutons:
French bread, sliced into 1/4 inch rounds
(Garlic, optional)
Olive oil
Salt

Use your fingers or a paper towel (or a brush, if you're fancy) to lightly coat one side of French bread rounds. Rub with a little garlic if so inclined (or if you already have stinky fingers). Lightly sprinkle with salt. Toast on both sides (wet side up first). Eat. Done.

Root Vegetable Stew (with dumplings)

The other night, I happened to get home before the vegetable shop next door to my apartment building closed, so I decided to go over and see if anything interesting was on offer.

I immediately spotted a bundle of medium-sized カブ (turnips). I recognized the katakana as a veggie I had eaten and enjoyed at some restaurant in Japan at some point since I moved here (for the life of me, I can't remember when or where). I've never cooked with turnips before, but they've always sounded like something yummy that people in fairy tales eat (doesn't it seem like every soup in a parable contains turnips?), so I thought I'd give them a try. Anyway, my interest was piqued, so I decided to stock up on some other stuff (mostly root veggies).

I'm a "throw in whatever's lying around" kind of cook, so apologies in advance for the vagueness of the recipe--all measurements are guesstimates. This recipe could easily be modified to be vegan, just sub soymilk for the milk and up the olive oil amount or sub margarine. Total cooking time, including prep and simmering was probably an hour.

Ingredients:

5 medium-sized turnips, peeled, cubed, without greens

1 medium-sized onion

1 carrot, peeled, cubed

1/4 of a kabocha, unpeeled, cubed

2 fingerling sweet potatoes (or 1/2 a regular-sized sweet potato), peeled, cubed

glug of olive oil

2 tbsp butter

1 cube vegetable bouillon

1 tbsp french whole grain mustard (or any Dijon-type mustard)

3/4 c. milk

3/4 c. barley

3/4 c. fake meat flakes (I don't know a better way to describe this, but click here to see what I used).

Water

Seasonings:

Salt, pepper, turmeric, cayenne pepper, cinnamon, parsley, basil, agave (or any sweetener)-- use all of these to taste. I used a lot of the parsley and basil to balance out the heaviness of the stew. I've got a whole rack of spices that I've inherited from people who've left Japan, so I just pulled what I thought would be good in a "I think I might be getting a cold, so I want something hearty and warm" stew.

How to:

1. Saute onions in olive oil until they're just turning transparent.
   
2. Add butter, let melt.
3. Add turnips, carrot, kabocha, and sweet potatoes. Stir occasionally so that all of it gets a chance to cook through and brown.
   
4. Add salt, pepper, bouillon cube. Saute mix for about 10 mins, until turnips are mostly cooked.
   
5. Stir in mushrooms, cook until mostly done.
   
6. Add barley and fake meat to get them started cooking so they cook faster after the water is added and they can take on the flavor of the veggies. Saute 2 mins.
7. Add water to cover plus an inch. You'll add water one or two more times as the barley and fake meat soak it up.
   
8. Add seasonings to taste.
9. Keep at a high simmer until barley is fully cooked, add water as needed.
10. Finally, when the barley is done and it seems like you'd need to add more water to make it all less thick, add milk. Let that simmer for a minute more.
11. Eat!

Here's the easy dumpling recipe I used: http://dinner-recipes.suite101.com/article.cfm/dumplings. The green stuff on the dumplings is the herbs from the stew.

I decided to see how this recipe would do as biscuits, so I dropped rounds of dough into a buttered muffin tin. The results:

They turned out too hard to really make good biscuits (though anything is improved with butter and gravy or butter and honey, right?). This recipe definitely needs the steam that comes from the stew/soup to make the dumplings light and tasty.

Summer Lovin'

My friends Bonnie, Marianne, and I have rented a summer house near the beach in Chigasaki, a beach town about an hour from where I live in Tokyo. This place has become my weekend haven, a place to escape the insanity of work, which keeps piling on, and the fast-paced, sadly lacking in that sea smell city that is Tokyo. You'd think a city that is technically built near the ocean would smell more of sea, but it doesn't. So, I need to take the train for an hour to get that lovely, familiar mix of ocean water and drying seaweed.

The sand here is volcanic, so it's dark and hot. It makes everything look a little dirty. But I like it, it's not the kind of sand to get too fancy schmancy on you. You've got to be okay with roughing it a bit to spend a day on these beaches 'cause all your clothes, towels, skin, hair, inside of your ears will get gritty and brown.

This past weekend marked the start of jellyfish season and, although there were several of us playing in the super calm water, I was the only one who got stung... and stung... and stung... and stung! I'll be swimming fully clothed from now until the middle of September.

On Sunday, I didn't get to the beach until late. I got in a few choice hours of swimming and sunning (and stinging). I finished two magazines. I listened to hours of Billie Holiday. I watched dogs kayak and people play fetch (frisbee). I saw ladies doing yoga on the beach when it got cooler (though it stayed that perfect summer night warm). And then I watched the sunset with Mount Fuji showing up at just the last moments of the day.