Showing posts with label eating alone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating alone. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

"Though their life was modest, they believed in eating well." — James Joyce (Dubliners)

My flatmate keeps making fun of me for continuously threatening myself with an instant ramen diet.

The first week of living here in Perth after moving up from Frankland, I wandered past the big chains and overpriced gourmet food stores to find myself in a little mart jammed packed with all sorts of foreign Asian goods with no English descriptions on the packaging. The only thing I could comprehend beyond the savory images were the numbers marking the price. Quite content on finding the so-far cheapest bottle of Sriracha in Perth and picking up two differently flavored packages of 5-packet ramens for $5, I thought I had found myself a bargain that my partime salary could compete with.

As I've mentioned before: Perth is a ridiculously expensive city. As I've implied before: to call Perth a city is relative. Let's rephrase: Perth is a ridiculously expensive place. Since living here for the last month - really living here - I have come to understand why.

I type this as the tab for ANZ's Internet banking is open, but I am hesitant to reveal the truth of it's accounts to make my survival until next week's pay day become a stark and dismal reality.

The main reason Perth is so expensive is that it can be. It's like a spoiled only child. Located in the middle of nowhere, the nearest city, Adelaide, is over 2,000 kilometers away; a flight from Perth in the West to Sydney in the East is about 5 hours - the same length for a flight from the American East coast to it's West coast; and driving 10 hours directly north of Perth only covers about 2 inches on a map. Part of this connection between its isolation and its monopoly over exuberant prices is that it is expensive to import things from around the world, let alone transport goods from other parts of the country. Indonesia is closer to Perth than Sydney is. Maybe because of this, and/or maybe they don't have any other choice, I have found that Australia is very proud in selling their own products: most bars serve a majority of Australian beers, most bottle shops predominately sell Australian wines, many bands are local artists, everyone claims to have known Heath Ledger - just kidding.
Another tie in to the expensiveness and remoteness is that Perth is a booming hub for the resource industry. With all the surrounding nothingness, there are a lot of mining jobs to be had with a lot of work to be done. These unfavorable locations and long hours pay a lot of money for these jobs. Called FIFO - fly in fly out - people fly to remote destinations for jobs that will last maybe 2 weeks at a time working hard with nowhere or no time to spend their money, then they fly home to Perth for a week with pockets filled with money to burn. Apparently, part of the lure to bring people to work in these desolate areas is to have tremendously nice facilities. Perth then has to compete with keeping people in all sectors of the economy in Perth. Why work in retail or hospitality when you could have a cleaning job at the mines earning $100,000 a year? How can the schools compete with teachers salaries in the city and providing quality education when the teachers can get more money up north? People are literally changing career paths to earn more money in the mines. With these incredible incomes and salaries, Perth can get away with charging such high prices that people now have the money to spend. I would say that the standard employment pay is relative to the standard of living in Perth, but it's not necessarily fair to the people who do not have jobs in the mining industry who are still trying to survive. This has caused a huge discrepancy between the population. My hourly rate isn't bad, but that doesn't mean I can afford a $16 sandwich for lunch or can buy a round of $10 beers. Once in the night. For two people. It's tempting, really tempting, to go work for $80/hour at one of the mines to put away a couple grand, but at the same time, I would feel like a tremendous sell out. Money can't be everything, it can't be the driving force in life.....oh! but the prospect of the promises that financial security offers is so so tempting. I haven't necessarily ruled it out yet. The ANZ tab is glaring at me, daring me to face reality. But, what would my friends and family think if I worked in a MINE?!

So if Perth is so expensive and I'm trying to save money to travel, you must wonder: why am I living here, currently in fear of my bank account, and with the packets of ramen still uneaten? You must wonder, if it hasn't already pissed you off, why have I resorted to buying terrible ramen noodles like a poor college student, which I never ate in college, when I KNOW how to eat better than that after a year of apparent studying in Italy?

Which brings me to two points I want to discuss:

Despite feeling quite proud in my bargain shopping of cheap ramen, even doing a comparison shopping of different brands and prices and flavors, there is a reason why they are still sitting in the larder. I thought I was doing the right thing, buying cheap food to save my money and thinking this $5 would feed me for at least 10 meals (10 days actually, I don't think I could even attempt to endeavour eating more than one packet in a day). But the more I thought about it, the more I understood how I was dooped into the negative way people think about food these days. I felt, without thinking about it, that I had to buy crap in order to not spend a lot of money. But didn't I just spend a whole year studying the culture of food, the economy of food, the politics of food, the effects food has on the environment and on our health? Why did I immediately think I had to buy instant processed food in order to save money? Shouldn't I be preaching better purchasing decisions and better eating habits to show people that they can buy quality food without breaking the bank? Isn't that what made me so frustrated about customers and their thoughts towards buying foods at the farmers market last summer - didn't I want to prove them wrong? Isn't this what I want to educate people on: how can a 69 cent bag of instant just-add-hot-water food with dehydrated vegetables and high sodium flavoring from Asia actually cost 69 cents? What is the nutritional content of 69 cents (I don't know, it's all in Chinese). Here I was going into "survival mode" of bulk instant ramen - the spicy kind of course, I might add - and getting angry and frustrated at the way food is treated and marketed and even more so, embarrassed at myself.
Instead, I bought bags of red, green, and black lentils, chickpeas, couscous, whole wheat penne, and flour to make homemade bread to slice and keep in the freezer. I'm not sure where the food comes from, but the Subiaco weekend market has terrific prices and all sorts of produce. If you go at the end of the day on Sunday they are literally trying to give away the food for $1 a bag. The little Asian shop down the street in Maylands sells discounted food that most places would throw out because of a few blemishes or is on it's last day on the shelf. My body craves vegetables, not instant food, and despite every purchase being a comparison shop and being conscious about what I want and what I need and what I can afford, I am more aware of the price of the food and wondering how certain bags of carrots or a head of lettuce can be so cheap. I know I shouldn't be complaining because I'm trying not to spend money either - I expected 10 meals from $5 - but it's ridiculous what people expect out of food. How they will pay $4.50 for a small cup of coffee or $3 for a soda, but then complain about the cost of milk or not have any comprehension surrounding the efforts put into production or the cost of transportation or the wages for the labor. *sigh

dilemma. 
6 bottles of cheap wine may seem like a good deal, but 2 bottles of quality good-tasting wine really make a difference. Same goes for olive oil. For local fruits. For vegetables in season. For making homemade bread.
buy less for your budget. buy better for your life. 

I am still tempted to do a full-on ramen diet week - I have the packets already, why let them go to waste (if there even is an expiration date). I've tried already, but once mixed in a jar of kimchi and another time added some sauteed bok choy and cut up tomatoes into it with drizzles of Sriracha. I physically can't bear to empty the packet of powdered flavoring into it, knowing how much sodium is in it, but maybe, just as an experiment, I could see what it's like to really live on a ramen diet.....thoughts?

And so to the second point from that previous discussion:

I like Perth a lot. Despite being one of the most expensive cities in the world, it is also ranked as one of the most livable and one of the highest qualities of living (is there any oxymoron somewhere there?) Just seventeen years short of being 200 years old (!) it reminds me a lot of California. Yes, the sunny weather and beach side proximity do help in this comparison. It's clean, pretty, budding, walkable, manageable.  Sure, there are a lot of ugly buildings, but there's a lot of breath-takingly unique ones. I love the neighborhoods in the suburbs where each house is distinctly different as though each plot of land had its own architect with a freedom to design whatever they wanted and took advantage of that opportunity. I could go on and on about the houses, but I can't find the right descriptive vocabulary right now.
What I like about Perth, and part of the reason why I decided to come to the west coast first, is that despite all the travelers, backpackers, and heavily populated foreigners, there aren't a lot of tourists (differentiation: tourists don't live here). It's kinda its own hidden gem. There aren't a whole lot of touristy sights in Perth in general and maybe that observation has something to do with me making fun of it being called a city. Before I left for Australia, most people I had talked to who had been here had been to the east coast, but said they never made it to Perth or Western Australia as it was too far away. I haven't been to the east coast yet, so I can't say anything about that, but for now, I like Perth. A lot of people rave about Melbourne and say Perth is 10 or even 20 years behind it, but I think Perth has a lot of potential. And for that, I'm rooting for Perth.
For the last couple "moves" I've always had a time frame: a year in Italy, a few months in Ireland, a summer in Portsmouth, a little over a month in Ireland, then a few weeks in Perth before 3 months in Frankland. Now I have no time frame, no future destination or plan, and I kinda like the freedom of it. I applied for a job in a restaurant because I thought it'd be still along the food lines slash hospitality side of things in terms of learning all the in's and out's of the food industry while at the same time being flexible, social, and non-committal so that I could test out the Perth waters to see if I liked it or at least get some cash before deciding where I wanted to go next. But for now, I like it, and think I might look for something a little more serious until something else comes along. I like the paychecks, the routine of work, the rent responsibility, the budgeting of money I've worked for, the "real life" I haven't had in a while. I love my little home with my own room and my flatmate, but living out of a backpack still makes me feel a little "unreal." For now, it's ok. For now, the ramen will be there for cases of starving emergencies in between paychecks and as a reminder that although life can be tough, there's always a lesson to learn from it. Sacrifice may mean learning how to prioritize, but it doesn't have to mean sacrificing the quality of your life or disregarding your standards, no matter where you are.

I have since opened up the ANZ tab. Let's not talk about it. 

Friday, August 26, 2011

Pokey Cheesey Delivery

Text Conversation:

me: "what are you doing? going to the cheese shop?"

an hour later...

sc: "where you at?"
me: "mi casa."
sc: "meet me out front in 5"
me: "ok"

2 minutes later...

sc: "out front!"
sc: "come on pokey!"
me: "elevator"
sc: "about time!"


I expected maybe a walk to BNG for some coffee, maybe a walk even to the cheese shop but nope. Instead, the best doorstop delivery ever (ok, well, down the hallway, down the elevator, passed the theater foyer, down the front steps) : a bag cherishing Italian and Irish Cheese!! I am so happy right now, I just had to write about it to share about it - yes I am home alone, it explains a lot. A Tallegio from Italy and a Cashel Blue from Ireland - a favorite food from two beloved countries....wow. The real reason I asked SC if he was going to the cheese shop was 1. he has the day off and the cheese shop he lives by has weird hours and 2. I wanted to try the cambozola he keeps talking about -  a combo of soft French triple-cream cheese and Italian gorgonzola. But I'll definitely take the Irish and Italian cheese. Paired with torn croutons I made the night before, this is the most fantastic snack a sunny Friday afternoon, and a hungry girl, could ask for.


Torn Croutons:

* made with The Good Loaf's Sharp Cheddar, Fresh Basil and Cracked Peppercorn Sourdough, 
highly recommended *

Tear day-old bread into bite size pieces. Pour enough oil into the bottom of a large pan to cover the bottom and add 3 garlic cloves. Heat until hot and then add the bread in a single layer. If you hear sizzling, the heat is too high and the croutons will become too dry – the key is to slow cook them for about 20 minutes so that the croutons absorb the garlicky oil and become crisp and golden brown on all sides. Just TRY to keep your fingers away from these. 

Sunday, August 29, 2010

"When I die, Dublin will be written in my heart." James Joyce

i didn't take that many pictures while i was in dublin because i don't feel like a tourist there. and i looved the amount of times people stopped me to ask for directions or thought that i was a local. but then i'd start talking with an american belfast-tinged accent and when asked, said i lived in italy - they were all sorts of confused. 
bridge shots across the sniffy liffy.
showing the local the most touristy spots.
a taste of emilia. feels like home. sorta.

hahaha.
 
organic. free range.
tennis pro's.

sand sculptures at the dublin castle.

ok so maybe this is a lot of photos having said i didn't take that many. but for a week in dublin, for me, this is not a lot.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Rutabaga Fries. Also known as Swede Chips.

what to do with a giant rutabaga? also known here as the swede. i had no idea. it’s supposed to be the low-carb version of the potato, so naturally i made one of my favourite foods: fries. also known here as chips. since they were baked instead of fried, they weren’t as crispy as a good french fry is, but it was still pretty tasty. 
burnt.
preheat the oven to 200C. scrub and peel the swede/rutabaga with a sharp knife - carefully. cut it into 1/2 inch discs following the shape of the base. then cut those into fry-sized pieces. place in a roasting pan. coat with extra virgin olive oil dust with paprika and hot chili powder, then mix around to coat evenly. (throw in some whole unpeeled garlic cloves, because whenever something is roasting, it’s always a good chance to roast some garlic!) cook for about 15 minutes until starting to get crisp  and darker around the edges and give a good mix about with a spatula. then cook for another 5 minutes. but don’t forget to reset the timer before you go off and do something completely different like i did. otherwise they’ll be a little burnt - but still good! the smaller garlic cloves will probably be burnt to an solid-ash-charcoal crisp. peel two of the other larger garlic cloves and mash with a fork in a small dish. add some ketchup and some hot red chili pepper flakes and blend as a chip dip. maybe i just love eating hot food right out of the oven with my fingers, and finger foods with dips especially, but despite it being burnt, it was still good enough to try again!  

Sunday, August 15, 2010

it's funny that something as simple as a just-hatched lightly poached egg could make one so happy.

throw in:
a salad of completely organic and picked from the vine/dirt into my hands veggies from the garden just up the hill
a beautiful sky of pinks and blues setting over the ocean in front of me
a table set for one (actually made me smile)
and the iPod on shuffle keeping me company.

the tender skins split after the first ripened tomatoes off the vine were picked as the juices were ready to burst. so soft. i literally couldn't wait to bite into. 
happy.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

“A cookbook should reflect the personality of the author along with his or her kitchen technique. Some cookbooks are put together like paper dolls. There is no feeling of humanness in them. I write about things I like and the way I like them.” - James Beard.

I love to cook. I love to entertain. Cooking can not only be creative, but therapeutic. Reading through cookbooks and recipes online often fill my mornings in bed, reinventing dishes frequently take up my afternoons. Yet, despite the amount of cooking I've done, I haven't sat down at the table to eat once. This morning for example, I brought my laptop into the kitchen while the plumber was fixing the water tank in the attic. I had taken my baked eggs out of the oven, not really even that hungry - I just wanted to use up the tasty leftovers - nor did I want to eat in front of my guests, so I left the cooked `dish by the stove and sat at the table. I literally got up from the table, went over to the stove, took a couple bites standing up, then went back to sit at the table. Being alone sometimes means eating in front of the tv on the couch, standing up in the kitchen, not even using plates (less washing), and it's easy to open the fridge and nibble on something, close the door, and go back to whatever.

I realized that most of my posts recently have been about cooking and sharing recipes. And I guess, being on my own, writing about them is the best way to share my meals with someone. Even if "someone" is cyberspace.

As much as I love to peruse recipes and the whole performance of cooking, and since I'm sharing meals with anyone who's not actually present but myself, I've decided that I should sit down at the table, set it for one, and enjoy my home cooked meal without the tv (it's barely on anyways, but seems like something people would have on when alone - I prefer my iPod - singing outloud? maayybbee), without the computer, and just pouring over the beautiful scene in front of me: the purpled heather covered Horn Head, the golfers who are constantly on the golf course from the moment I wake up until it gets dark, the trail of horseback riders cantering along the top of the sand dunes, the ever changing blue hues of the sea, the summer camp or the local team playing on the futbol pitch, the thicket of colourful flowers climbing up the hill and over the stone wall, and especially the lovely weeds and shrubs coming up through the gravel patio that separate me and all the described above....that I need to pull up....

Cheers

anyways, i enjoy it. and hope you do too. 


How to Eat Alone - Daniel Halpern



While it's still light out
set the table for one:
a red linen tablecloth,
one white plate, a bowl
for the salad
and the proper silverware.
Take out a three-pound leg of lamb,
rub it with salt, pepper and cumin,
then push in two cloves
of garlic splinters.
Place it in a 325-degree oven
and set the timer for an hour.
Put freshly cut vegetables
into a pot with some herbs
and the crudest olive oil
you can fine.
Heat on a low flame.
Clean the salad.
Be sure the dressing is made
with fresh dill, mustard
and the juice of hard lemons.

Open a bottle of good late harvest zinfandel
and let it breathe on the table.
Pour yourself a glass
of cold California chardonnay
and go to your study and read.
As the story unfolds
you will smell the lamb
and the vegetables.
This is the best part of the evening:
the food cooking, the armchair,
the book and bright flavor
of the chilled wine.
When the timer goes off
toss the salad
and prepare the vegetables
and the lamb.  Bring them out
to the table.  Light the candles
and pour the red wine
into your glass.
Before you begin to eat,
raise your glass in honor
of yourself.
The company is the best you'll ever have.

Friday, March 5, 2010

3, 2, 1

I just got back from a cross country trip of hello's and goodbye's. My last day at Cava was a week earlier than I had anticipated, but even then I was being weaned out as they were training the kids who were going to be taking over while the restaurant staff was away on their trip to Spain. After a few days of unemployment, I flew out to California to visit my younger sister Jessica at Santa Clara University where she is enjoying her senior year. I had such a blast with her and her friends acting like the oldest yet most immature 21 year old. for four years i've been her 21 year visiting sister, so it's a good thing she's graduating b/c i couldn't handle it next year. old and creepy.

My friend Beka who moved from Portsmouth to Tahoe in November came down to pick me up and we had quite the road trip - San Francisco, Treasure Island, a detour to Napa Valley and Yountville (a surreal and beautiful place and home to French Laundry, Ad Hoc, Bouchon and Bouchon Bakery, Bottega, Hurley's...I never wanted to leave), and eventually up to Tahoe. It was gorgeous, full of stories, and so fun to see her and meet her new boyfriend. We had a gorgeous day driving around the lake. Then I was dropped off at the Reno Airport to get a flight back to Santa Clara for some more college antics. Saturday was rugby day - which clearly means an all day drink fest - which sums up to 300 keystone lights and my first and hopefully last Taco Bell
experience.

I took the redeye flight to NYC on Sunday and spent the next couple days there walking, walking everywhere and trying to see as many of my friends as possible in between their work and social schedules, however i wasn't able to see everyone I wanted to and definitely not for long enough. Nearly had a heart attack when I met up with friends for happy hour and the cheapest cocktails were $14, wine $11 and the BUD LIGHTS were $7!! We're not in Portsmouth anymore...no $2 PBRs. I love spending my money in NYC only on food. I walked from Columbus Circle to Union Square to the Greenmarket, had blue cheese & kimchi croissant and a cereal milk with cereal flakes milk shake at Momofuku Milk Bar - most interesting lunch ever - had a variety of apps and braised rabbit at Bar Stuzzichini, brussels sprouts for a morning snack from Whole Foods, a brioche and latte at Bouchon Bakery, spanish scramble and biscuits with maple butter at Clinton Street Bakery, mussels and fries at Delicatessen, had a schlew of deliciousness at Fatty Crab, love the vegetarian egg white wraps at Dishes.....aaand i wonder why i'm fat. I love new york, but this time, being back, I didn't miss it. it's a city filled with possibilities and opportunities and excitement and my friends, but they all have career paths and serious boyfriends...just not for me right now. which is good though because it made me happy to come back to Portsmouth and then move on to Italia!

more pics on the "hella wicked good" facebook album.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2087409&id=3800290