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archive for dinner

not so special

Saturday, October 25th, 2008

Recipe: not so special roll

When Jeremy and I moved in together after I graduated from college, I cooked a lot… but I didn’t cook. There wasn’t much need to because we lived within spitting distance of more authentic ethnic dining establishments than I could shake a stick at. We were spoiled rotten. And all of the ethnic grocery stores in LA made it just as easy to get some of the homestyle goodies to take home and heat up. Very nice.


sushi rice

special nori from japan, courtesy of joyce



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barely conscious

Tuesday, October 14th, 2008

Recipe: chinese stir-fried beef noodles

Can’t think. I’m tired and there were so many pictures and observations from today that I wouldn’t know where to begin. So I won’t just yet.

But there is a recipe…. because it is my dad’s birthday today. I think most people associate birthdays with cake, but I associate birthdays with noodles per the Chinese tradition.

My dad is the CEO of the house and my mom is the CFO. Dad likes management speak, because he was a manager as well as an engineer. When I was in college, they sent me a check for my birthday one year. My father told me, “I have authorized Mommy to release some funds for your birthday present.” What a hoot.


goofing off with dad at kris’ wedding

at my college graduation



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por que tu eres un taco grande?

Wednesday, October 8th, 2008

Recipe: shredded beef tacos

That phrase is the first sentence I learned in Spanish way back in high school, from a bunch of friends who took Spanish. I took French, see. So when I headed down to South America to do field work for graduate school I was all, “Guys, I don’t speak a lick of Spanish.” Well, except for por que tu eres un taco grande? Everyone assured me I’d pick it up.

I did pick up some Spanish, all with an Argentine accent. That got me a lot of funny stares when I flew across the Andes to Chile for work on a field project with Jeremy and a team of astronomers. When Jeremy met me at the airport in Santiago and we caught a cab, he was amazed while I chattered away with our driver in my Argentine Spanish explaining the geophysical research project I had been working on for the past month. Jeremy speaks Spanish. When he saw me off at the airport in the US, the only new Spanish I had learned was No me molestes! and Chupacabra (from an X-files episode).

When I say Jeremy speaks Spanish, I really mean that he knows a lot of Spanish, but the guy hardly speaks much in English and even less in Spanish. He actually *thinks* before he speaks. That’s why when he finally says something, everyone listens. It’s usually something quite good. But me, I run my mouth all the time and let my jabbering find its way around until I say what I wanted to say. I don’t hesitate to speak. Same goes for my Spanish.

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