Sunday, November 26, 2006


Thanksgiving weekend is, sadly, over. I lie depressed on my couch and simultaneously listen to Tom Waits while watching Sweet Home Alabama on mute, with subtitles. It's a horribly cheesy and puke-inducing flick but I'm in the mood the suffer through it. I choose to wallow in my Sunday blues, wait it out, thinking of the culinary delights I had today - a mozzerella, tomato and basil omelette (still runny just the way I like it) at a jazz brunch in Chelsea, Gewurztraminer wine, asiago cheese, pecans and dried strawberries at a friend's apartment. I'm not in the least bit hungry, but I need to create, to taste, to keep busy, somehow.

Many late nights I rarely eat because I am hungry, but as a result of boredom. My stimulated pallet wakes me up and gives me a mental boost like no other sense. Music tends to put me in an introspective mood. Food, on the other hand, makes me unusually vocal, I want to call people to tell them what I made, I want to enjoy wine with it and talk about the flavors with someone.

Four days have past since Thanksgiving, I still have loads of leftovers in fridge:

--butternut squash baked with cinnamon and brown sugar
--sweet potatoes with pineapple (made by mom)
--steamed brussel sprouts and cauliflower

With the help of my cat, I've finished every last bit of turkey, stuffing, and roasted potatoes with thyme and rosemary. Now what? After three consecutive Thanksgiving style meals, I was more than ready for a change. I had bought some soba noodles at Dynasty market, a big Asian grocery store in Chinatown. I've been meaning to make these hearty buckwheat noodles since my trip to Japan. I loved the honest, simple, and filling noodles as they are dipped in a light and tangy soy broth. I feel as if they are meant to be slurped, and paired with something simple, like a can of sardines. I decide to make a vegetable soba soup. I drop the noodles in boiling water, pop in a video, and they are done by the time I tidy up my kitchen sink, a bit. I drain and add them to my ready made soy broth I had picked up at the Japanese grocery store earlier in the day. I add cooked brussel sprouts, cubes of sweet squash (it reminds me of a soy pumpkin chunks tapas dish I often have in Japanese restaurants) and cauliflower, and pile it all into a big bowl. It is filled to the tippy top, and I carry it and nearly burn myself on my way to the couch. I slurp up every last drop. I am good and full and just a bit less depressed about the work week to come, as I will have an excellent lunch tomorrow.


Monday, November 06, 2006

Warning: Borat Spoiler

Tonight at a work dinner and after a couple glasses of wine, I decided to ask if any of my colleagues had seen Borat, yet. That probably wasn't the classiest or most professional move, to ask a bunch of reinsurance heads whom have been on the road for the past two weeks if they've seen a politically incorrect and not very family oriented movie and then to remark at how brilliant the whole idea is. As I suspected, no one had seen it, but I think I sparked some interest and provided a much needed laugh with my sample Borat line: If you like movie, he no get execute.

Anyhow, the movie definitely fell short, in my eyes. I think for the new Borat viewer, those who aren't familiar with his schtick, (I believe most of the movie reviewers fall into this category), Cultural Learnings will be laugh after laugh. But what Borat does best is use his quick wit in interviews and this proved to be disappointing. The skits were cut short, some skits even lacked dialogue, and some involved toilet humor that was 15% funny, and 85% appalling. The antique shop scene wasn't funny at all, I just ended up feeling bad for the shop owner, and the driving instructor scene seemed old and stale. I had seen much funnier skits from previous shows on youtube.

Maybe I'm being too tough on Borat since my expectations, just as everyone's were, was that this was going to be the best fucking movie in the damn universe, but lo and behold I was left wanting more.