Shit I Cook Myself: Juice Bar Soup

This is not quick because you gotta roast carrots (an hour) and then cook shit, let it cool, kind of cook it again … but maybe 2.5-3 hours total if you’re feeling it.

Yeah I screen-shotted my own story so what.

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In defense of dining honestly, part 2

While I’m at it, I’ve recently been thinking a lot about the role of branding in restaurants, and how it impacts everything from perception of the quality of food and service, to the types and levels of accolades that a restaurant receives, to the sheer popularity of a place. People don’t wait for an hour in line to get into a place with shitty branding — not because it’s not good, but because they don’t think/don’t believe/haven’t been told it’s good.

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In defense of dining honestly, part 1

Portland, Maine. You may have heard of it.

You may have heard it called quintessential, or quirky, or cute, or up-and-coming, or surprising.

You may have heard that we have something like one billion restaurants per capita, with like forty new ones opening each day.

But we have problems. Oh, do we ever.

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Review of the Day: Mansplaining.

Today, I want to talk about how really annoying shit can happen sometimes even when you are having a sweet day of skiing at a sick mountain. Case in point: on day 3 (and final ski day) of a trip to Mt. Bachelor (thanks, now-defunct MAX Pass), I was teaching my friend and ski buddy on the trip how to telemark, a sport that I have engaged in for the past 8 (eight) (8) consecutive ski seasons, exclusively.

I shouldn’t need to credential myself to set up this story, but I will anyway, just to quash the temptation to nay-say my point of view.

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Pheasants & Barley: idealized Nordic cuisine, it’s what’s for dinner

Tonight’s dinner menu is brought to you by this beautiful coffee table decoration that doubles as a cookbook:

Upon hearing that dinner was going to be a frittata (boring — I love breakfast for dinner as much as the next gal but when you eat an egg sandwich almost every morning, doing it again ten hours later just seems uninspired), I opened cookbook nearest my hand for some more out-of-the-ordinary inspiration. That cookbook happened to be Fire and Ice, a cloth-covered photo-essay-cum-“home-cooking”-expedition through the Great White North.

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Rant/Ramble of the Day: Thoughts on Plan B (not that kind)

Warning: too long and mostly un-edited.

After reading this post (read it, especially if you’ve every wondered why not to get a PhD), and then this one (also read it), something very particular stuck out to me:

You didn’t have a Plan B and that was stupid. What did you think would happen?

This strikes me an intellectually dishonest on the part of the people asking this question. Our society rewards drive, single-minded pursuit, having one over-arching mission of life (or at least appears to reward, in such a way as to discourage individuals from having many different goals and interests). The heroes in our society are the ones who(se narratives suggest they) dedicated their lives to achieving one great thing. Martin Luther King. Steve Jobs. Amelia Earhart. We don’t have any renaissance men or women anymore, not really. If we do, we have Noam Chomsky, and even he’s more of a two-trick pony. It is both impossible and dispreferred, in this day and age, to excel in multiple fields. No longer can a single public intellectual (or private intellectual, or academic) write and speak with authority and respectability in disciplines ranging from ethics to economics to ecology.

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Guns, Sex, and Social Stories

There’s always time for a quick revelation.

Like when after reading way too many takes and post-takes and post-post-takes on the Aziz Ansari incident (I won’t even bother linking), you finally read one that reminds of you of something totally not related and yet totally exactly the same that you’re like, holy shit, this is a sociological pattern if there ever was one.

I’ll quote directly, because that’s how I roll. I will also add the caveat that I actually have not read the entire article because this connection is too obvious to let a commentary go even five minutes stewed.

The Aziz Ansari case hit a nerve because, as I’ve long feared, we’re only comfortable with movements like #MeToo so long as the men in question are absolute monsters we can easily separate from the pack. Once we move past the “few bad apples” argument and start to suspect that this is more a trend than a blip, our instinct is to normalize. To insist that this is is just how men are, and how sex is. (Lili Loofbourow in The Week)

Let me repeat for effect: “… so long as the men in question are absolute monsters we can easily separate from the pack … [once we] suspect that this is more a trend than a blip, our instinct is to normalize.”

What does this pattern — the pattern of separating monsters but normalizing systemic violence — remind you of?



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