Molecular Gastronomy: a foody masturbates

Sunday, I learned a few of the basic processes that makes up this movement of Molecular Gastronomy.

Mostly, I find it wanking off about food... more so than usual, that is. I appreciate it on an esoteric, aesthetic level, but I find that when I want to eat a mushroom, I actually want to eat a mushroom and not just breathe the flavor in a foam. I like texture and chewing. I don't necessarily want essence of pea puree to explode in my mouth like stale baby food.

The most successful dish, I thought, was the seared duck breast (because it was cooked conventionally) which was topped with pineapple caviar. I did like these little bursts of fruity flavor and will probably be taking this technique home with me. The sweet and acid flavors of the caviar worked nicely to offset the fattiness of the duck.

In order to make this "caviar," combine juice with sodium alginate (a thickener) and then dribble drops into a calcium chloride bath. Osmosis sucks the water out of the juice drop and creates a cell wall around the drop. An example from Youtube:

Cooking for Gordon

I had a dream last night that I was cooking for Gordon Ramsay. Unlike my dream of Anthony Bourdain, this was not a sex dream.

Instead, it was about learning, gaining knowledge, and earning approval.

TV Review: Presidential Campaign

I realized that these debates are really bad television. In good serial TV, each episode builds on what the viewer knows from past episodes and rewards the repeat viewer. Finely crafted TV is good enough to suck in new viewers without being boring to repeat viewers. These debates -- and probably presidential campaigns in general -- are REALLY BAD TV.

They just repeat the same things over and over... "he voted present," "he's going to raise your taxes," "use a scapel instead of a hatchet," "he started his campaign in a terrorist's living room," etc.

This does not reward the repeat viewer AT ALL.

Tony Soprano for President!

Stoked

This weekend, I volunteered as a surfer to help mentors and their students in the ocean.

http://www.stoked.org/

It was a great experience and the kids' enthusiasm reminded me that it doesn't matter if the conditions are bad, you can get stoked by just being in the water.

Outta the way, kook! Woof.

3rd Annual Surf Dog Surf-A-Thon is Sunday, September 7.

This year's doggie surf clinic photos have really got me in stitches. From this weekend's photos I found my soulmate in a grumpy bulldog. These two pictures in a series tell it all:

Photos by Michael Schrager

Rocco

Rocco DiSpirito is one of the contestants of DANCING WITH THE STARS this coming season?

I guess he likes being on TV better than being in the kitchen.

The Wire

I just got the email telling me that my pre-order of the final season of THE WIRE has been shipped. Woo!

I can't wait to watch some really good serial TeeVee again. I've been catching up on EUREKA, but it's no BUFFY.

Maybe McNutty and Bunk will be inspiration for me.

writer's block

since 2002

Wotta Cock-up!

Usually, I'm quite a mellow restaurant patron. I've never sent anything back and I always tip the waiter (percentage depending on service). But Saturday, I sat with my husband's work friends at a Mediterranean restaurant -- which was my off-the-cuff choice because no one could decide. There, I realized I have been watching too much Gordon Ramsay.

After the owner/host/waiter seated us in the small restaurant, no menus came after many many minutes, so I got up and muddled around the wait area to find only two menus available. I brought them back to my table and people perused. A busboy came by with water and asked us if we wanted soda or tea. G wanted wine, but the busboy didn't understand, so I said, "vino?" and he seemed to understand. He came with an Asahi beer. Everybody had a good laugh and G started drinking it anyway.

More minutes went by. I saw the owner/host/waiter take the orders from the tables against the other wall of this 10 table place, but he didn't come to take our order. Oh, well. No matter. We were talking. More minutes and no service. Finally, I got up to make myself a nuisance. I wandered back into the wait area. I also hovered around the kitchen to see the busboy and another Spanish-speaking employee diligently working. No sign of the white-haired owner/host/waiter. I wandered back to my table, but I could sense G's work friends getting restless.

I dug around the wait station and found the wine list to get the price of the beer. I threw down some bills for the beer and told my party we were going.

Still no service in the dining area.

The only question I got was from the couple sitting next to me. The man had been speaking French with the owner/host/waiter and he asked, "Are you going?"

I said, "Yes. I was here before and the food was good, but..."

"The food is good, but it is very long. I have told him he needs more help."

His American date then said, "Where will you go? The Italian place next door is very good."

I felt weird about the recommendation from the date of the friend of the owner, so I tried to thank her and leave quickly.

She continued, "Or if you want really good Mediterranean food, there's this place--"

"Don't say that. We are here. It is not appropriate."

I laughed and said, "Yes, I feel bad. Don't tell me."

I could hear the couple arguing as we walked out the door.

This was the first time I'd ever walked out of a restaurant. If I were more like Gordon Ramsay, I might have waited for the owner and told him "wotta cock-up!"

Baby steps.

Earthquake

That was panic-inducing. It was the biggest one I've felt in my short 7 years in Los Angeles.

Wasn't sure what to do, and now I know.

Engagement Ring

Cooperfish Hornet 9'7"

No reservations?

I had a dream about eating with Anthony Bourdain. In essence, it was a sex dream even though there was no sex.

It left me wanting to eat, to have an adventure, to get out and do some vaguely hallucinogenic things again. I have been whittling away my days in front of the computer rather fruitlessly. I read the news about elections, recessions, and wars. Things seem to go in my brain and rattle around a bit without getting processed before going out again.

I feel age hardening around the edges and I find myself silently stewing in anger during the day.

Surf Etiquette (aka stuff we already know)

http://www.latimes.com/features/lifestyle/la-ig-mannerist20-2008jul20,0,1719034.story

I heart Joss Whedon

...and Barney, too.

Dr. Horrible

Mobile

Testing out the mobile blogging. If it works, I'll be posting
probably no more than usual.

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Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Blog from phone

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Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com

Unbalanced

I was never a morning person. My friend Megmegam liked riding with me to pre-dawn morning location shoots because she would get in the car and light her cigarette and I would grunt good morning and off we'd go in silence.

Then I started surfing and I would anticipate my alarm and be in the water pre-dawn, waking up in the morning light with a wave under my bum.

But my nature never changed. I was never a morning person.

I find now, post-professional movie-making, post-wedding, and amidst adjusting to Valley girl life as a weekend warrior, I am reverting to my natural non-morning person state. I am grumpy, I am lazy, I have a hard time waking up in the morning.

This is attitude is carrying on into the day now, too. I have to figure out how to get back in the water soon.

Wedding went well...

Well... apart from one major freak-out.

Hey, we're married. And everybody enjoyed the reception.

I came home to meet a horrible cold and my head hurts so much right now my stomach doesn't know if it's hungry or wanting to throw up.

So I haven't been in the water as a married woman yet.

Last surf before I get leashed to the ol' ball-n-chain

Yesterday's birthday surf was okay. Today's surf, however, was super-fun! I can't think of a better way to spend my last surf session as an unmarried woman. I was on the Cooperfish V-Bottom and I am starting to figure out the board. I haven't got it completely under control yet, but I've discovered how fun the bottom turns are on it.

There's also something about the board that makes me feel like I'm about a foot above the wave. On one wave, I literally hopped to adjust my position. Both feet were off the board and I felt like I was floating. Then I got to drive into the turn from the tail. It almost felt like I was making a sharp 90-degree corner.

The major thing I can't get is when the wave breaks on the shoulder in front of me and I am not in a position to kick-out. Usually, I like to kick the board over and hit the whitewater and use the whitewater to straighten me out toward shore. This board doesn't like the whitewater. The V-bottom gets tippy and bucks at the turbulence of the white water. Pretty much every single time I tried to end a wave like that, I lost the board and had to swim. I needed the exercise anyway.

This afternoon I bought a waist-cinching corset and shaping underwear to wear under my wedding dress.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful...

After a lifetime of no traffic tickets, I've gotten 3 in the last two months. I don't know if it's just all catching up to me or what. I admit guilt to the first two: 1) I didn't come to a complete stop (but it's a friggin' Prius and if I'd bumped you going 2 miles an hour, you could just push me back to a stop); and 2) I was speeding on the 405 going to Huntington for a surf at 6:30am on a Sunday morning (wouldn't you?).

But today I won't eat the ticket I just got. I stopped at a familiar light for a "no turn on red." I waited and waited and waited. I waited until the cross-traffic used their left turn signal. I waited until the giant van made it's U-turn at the left. And when it cleared, I started moving. I was turning as my red light was changing to green. Not soon after, I saw the flashing lights and it was game over. The cop even admitted to me that she saw me wait at that light, but because of that FRACTION OF A SECOND where I was moving as the light was red, I was busted.

For FUCK'S SAKE.

I think I know why this is happening. It's because I am not paying as much as Mr. Hum-V to fill up my Prius's gas tank, so I am being targeted to pay the State an equal share in tickets.