Tofu Can Kiss My A@#!

Yeah, I don't like tofu. It belongs in the garbage right next to all those other soy products. Why is it bad besides the fact that it tastes like crap and bounces when dropped on the floor? (I like my protein to land with a thud when it hits the floor). It's bad for you because it has these things in it called phytates. Phytic acid inhibits the uptake of vitamins in our bodies, major ones like these: calcium, magnesium, copper, iron and zinc. If you do eat tofu, you're going to need more Vitamin D. (Vitamin D helps calcium do its job in our body.) Soy is listed in some toxic plant lists published by our own government. You might also need more B-12 if you eat soy. (B-12 is important in making blood cells and maintaining the sheath around our nerve cells.) Children of soy-pushing parents are developing at earlier ages. MSG is formed when making soy products, MSG is bad for us, remember? Thyroid cancer, anyone? How about abnormal development in children? Oh yeah! I'll take pancreatic disorders. How about plain old crabby about having to eat something that tastes like crap.

I wouldn't eat soy if you paid me. I wouldn't eat soy if I were starving. I wouldn't eat soy if it were wrapped in bacon. That says a lot, because I'll eat anything wrapped in bacon, except...

Read more about studies about with the evil soy bean: http://westonaprice.org/soy-alert/667-studies-showing-adverse-effects-of-soy.html.

I should be cleaning the house

But I'm not. I'm sitting here writing about something that I love and that's ghost stories. Imagine a ghostly voice saying, "Wooooooo, woooooo, woooooooo." Yes, I do love ghost stories. I've loved them from a very young age. I think that comes from my mom telling us all kinds of ghost stories during those dark and stormy San Jose, CA nights (ok, there weren't that many stormy nights but there were lots of ghost stories).

Yes, I watch Ghost Whisperer, not for the cleavage (though there is a lot of good cleavage in that show) but I watch it for the ghostie things that happen. Ghostie, not ghostly or ghastly. It's not scary and there's not a lot of blood, maybe a dab here or there. The ghosties can pop in and out when they try to get Melinda to help them but sometimes they don't know they need help, much like many of the living.

The shows are predictable and that's OK with me. I also have to suspend my beliefs about the world in order to watch and that's OK too. My mind needs a break from hearing about road side bombs killing another soldier or hearing that my niece's mom pushed her onto a hard surface actually hurting her back. Oh yeah, while my niece was pregnant, no less. The world can suck but it sucks a little less when I can watch shows like Ghost Whisperer where they work things out.

Italy Sketches

My husband likes to sketch things. So when we were in Italy last year (my first time ever in Europe!), he tried to get in as much sketching as he could. He did some drawings in Venice but it rained on some of his sketches causing the ink to run. It was a lovely effect, water on water. He lugged our day-pack complete with his drawing supplies, our son, and any extra bags that I couldn't handle. And although he didn't do much actual sketching due to all the lugging and the jet lag, the sketches that he was able to complete were simply amazing.

When I look at his sketches, I immediately feel the essence of the place. I can feel the close-in quarters of the cafe, the tiny shops that we popped into, the artisan shoe maker's cubby-hole shop. And, though it felt hemmed in while I was there and I could stand in the middle of the street and touch each building that framed the street, I also felt peaceful while in Venice. I think it's because of the lack of traffic. Plus, there were no Vespas whizzing by with 2 bags of groceries precariously perched on the front and back. And, as we got closer to our place, the crowds thinned out and the revelers stayed away. That feeling comes through in his sketches.

He also did some amazing sketches while in Lucca and Rome. In Lucca, we had a lovely day of riding bikes around the walled town. We rode up on top of the wall, which has been turned into a nice bike path, with picnic areas, playgrounds, sculptures, and a few restaurants. Then we descended into the town and found a little place to eat located off an ally on some unnamed street. This is where he did another of his sketches. My son loved his spaghetti dinner that night then he did some great drawing on the sidewalk while we were able to chat and drink wine, just lovely.

There was a particular sketch that he did in Rome from the terrace of our apartment. It was the night that we almost burned down the building. Ahh, yes, Rome. The night of almost burning down the building. Anyhoo, suffice it to say that we didn't burn much except a foil dish and we have a really great story and a sketch to go along with the memory.

Back to the present, for the past 6 years, I have been hanging my son's art on our walls because we have NO other art or anything to put on the walls. We're the kind of people who have to love what we put up. And I love my son, bless him, but I'm really getting tired of looking at loopy train drawings done in light yellow. So imagine my surprise when I went to get something from the basement and I saw that my dear husband had taken his 5x7 sketches and had them blown up to poster size which he then mounted onto frames.

My heart lurched in my chest, my eyes welled up with tears and I whispered aloud, "Our Italy trip." So, for our anniversary present, he hung those in our bedroom so that we can wake up each day to see these beautiful sketches and works of art which remind us of our moments in Italy.

Musings While Exercising

I began doing this walk/job combo a while ago when walking with my son who rides his bike with training wheels. I have to run to keep up with him. And, actually, I'm getting pretty good at jogging. So, while jogging, I'll often pass more serious joggers. I can tell because they're wearing skin tight lycra which probably wicks sweat away from the body, they have their music strapped around their bicep, and they don't stop as often as I do. I usually wear jeans or whatever I happen to be wearing that day. It's a very rare occasion that I get dressed to exercise. I figure if I have to plan one more activity around exercise then most likely I'd never go.

Today, I passed this guy who wore lycra with big patches of black and white on his legs 'Wow, 80's dude,' I thought. He was really making a statement. Most serious joggers seem to wear shorts or lycra and a performance t-shirt all from REI of course (which isn't such a great store, by the way). Seattle jogger etiquette calls for no acknowledgment of the other jogger, no smiling, no nothing. So, for kicks, I do the forbidden Seattle thing, I smile at other joggers. Some people smile back, some nod, but most just ignore me like I'm that bothersome moss on the north sidewalk.

I think to myself, "Self, what is it about most of these joggers that prevent them from smiling at me." Here are my responses to myself:

"Gasp, gasp, gasp."

"Oh yeah, they're exercising and don't have time to smile."

"But, it's easier to smile than to frown."

"What a jerk."

"Oh wait, they were probably shocked that a stranger showed any emotion. Since we're in Seattle and strangers don't talk to each other, why would they even smile."

"But, it only takes one second to smile and when you smile, your body releases those feel-good hormones. Aren't joggers and runners looking for that runners-high. Gasp, gasp, gasp. They could just stop running and start smiling to get at the seratonin. No jogging, no drugs, just smile. Stop talking to yourself and just jog and don't smile, damnit!"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, I live in Seattle. I keep forgetting that part."

"Gasp, gasp. gasp."

My Basil

Ok, it's June 3rd already and already my basil is looking all yellow and upset from all the over-watering it has received due to El Nino. It was very green and happy looking when I bought the basil starts. Now, it just looks depressed from all the rain. It looks how I often feel throughout the wintertime here in this god-awful, soul-sucking winter weather we're forced to endure. June in Seattle and we still have the heat coming on.

We've had so much rain and gray weather that I was blinded this morning when the sun finally came out. But, yes, it finally came out and it's glorious. The warm sun makes me feel like I can have fun adventures. It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like replacing that yellowing basil. Oh, the basil, my favorite herb. I've got it growing against the house on the South side. Usually, the sun warms the stuccoed side of our house which in turn keeps the basil really warm and happy. Hey, maybe I should go set up camp with the basil so I can be warm.

I suppose our depressing and bone-chilling Northwest winters have their pluses. The big one I can think of is how incredibly happy I feel when summer finally arrives. I'm also able to see more vistas because the trees have all lost their leaves. I also don't have to worry much about sunscreen. And, I don't have to take care of the garden. So, I guess winter has a few good points. But, honestly, I'd rather slather sunscreen and garden all year in exchange for warmer and sunnier weather. So would my basil.

Friends From High School

Wow, I guess I thought I didn't have any old friends but this weekend, two of my pals from ninth grade stayed with me and we reconnected. The years can change a lot in a person's life. I was completely delighted to find that Tracy and Toni had lived full and exciting lives. I did feel a connection to both of them. It's strange but even though millions of years have passed, I still felt like we were united.

Sure, I was worried. Especially when Toni mentioned that she could sleep in her van with her rescue dog. I pictured a yellow VW van complete with painted pot leaves and purple peace signs with smoke billowing out the windows (you can guess what kind of smoke). I pictured her leveling the van on my hilly rain slicked street with my neighbors cautiously peering out. When she pulled up in a soccer mom van, I really had to laugh at myself.

Tracy was always very outgoing and sweet-natured. When I picked her up at the airport, she launched into talking, but then she always did that. I remember I used to love to listen to her. Even though we were the same age, she always seemed so wise. It turns out that we were all from dysfunctional families and we needed something extra, some place to call home, someone to help and heal our hearts. I think we found some of that in each other.

Tracy became a real estate agent. Toni became a massage therapist. I became a stay at home mom.

Toni had the greatest memory for the details of all the adventures that we had. Tracy and I pretty much forgot everything. Like much of my childhood, that year with Tracy and Toni was a blur. Did my missing chunks of memory stem from the amount of drinking that I did or is it just the passage of time. Maybe it stems from not wanting to remember how lonely I felt as a child. I do recall laughing with Tracy and Toni back then and that it felt good to be with them. I can hang onto those chunks and let the other ones slip away because I've already come to peace with my childhood. It feels good to remember laughter and connection and it sure felt good to reconnect with two wonderful women who probably helped save my life.

Cheers to you Tracy and Toni. And, there was something about the chicken arm? But, I completely forgot what it was. Oh well, cheers to you and the chicken arm, what ever that may mean.

Store Bought Asian Sauce

That's what they must have used the first time I tried Vietnamese food when I lived in San Francisco. My husband's co-worker, who is from Texas, raved about this little hole-in-the-wall place and he made us eat there. It was torture from the very first bite. I wanted to dump my pho on his head. Never one to completely give up on a cuisine, I then tried a flashy, up and coming, much lauded Vietnamese restaurant and still wasn't impressed. In fact, I was really disappointed because I can make this stuff at home with store bought Asian sauce.

For years, I'd been wary of Vietnamese food. It wasn't until yesterday that my palate and mind were completely changed. It feels like a new space has opened up, a space where there's room to keep trying new things, to keep enjoying and loving life, to keep living. Yes, good cuisines can do that to me.

I think I owe my thanks to Anthony Bordain. I've seen pretty much all of his shows. I love No Reservations. I love it because Anthony likes excellent food done in unpretentious ways. I love it because I get inspired by his adventures. I love it because I can see myself eating and experiencing what he experiences. Anthony loves Vietnamese food; he's been there several times in No Reservations. And I think he actually lived there. His love of Vietnamese food kept popping up in my mind over the years. The saying, "if he likes it, then maybe I might like it" lingered in my thoughts.

My husband and I love this restaurant called Portage here in Seattle. It's all fresh Northwest cuisine. In fact, the chef/owner, who is of Vietnamese descent, lives right near some good friends of ours. And, that's how we found out about his new restaurant called June. The food at June is fantastic because Chef Vuong has created the menu and the space. His menu is Northwest inspired French, it's all flavor both delicate and robust but without heavy Frenchified sauces. Simply divine. Anyway, while reading about his new restaurant June in the PI and the Times I came across Vuong's favorite Vietnamese restaurant, Green Leaf Vietnamese Restaurant, http://greenleaftaste.com.

I did a quick search and the Green Leaf website popped open and there sat Mario Batali (of Molto Mario fame; also, his dad owns Salumi here in Seattle). I thought to myself, "Okay, if Vuong likes this place and I love Vuong's creative cuisine and Mario Batali is eating there plus the fact that my idol, Anthony Bordain, loves Vietnamese food, then I think I need to give this place a try."

To sum up our Green Leaf experience, I was blown away. I ordered way too much food but I really wanted to sample different parts of the menu. I think every single thing on the menu would taste fantastic. Everything we tried was wonderful. All of our dishes were fresh and the exotic flavors mingled and danced on my palate. Fragrant, floral, slightly acidic, barely sweet, hints of mint and spice, caramelized onions all met and melted together to create unique flavors.

I am a complete convert. I love Vietnamese food. And, this has opened a whole new world for me.