Happy Birthday plasticmom!

We finally got plasticmom to ditch her prepaid cellphone by getting her a pink RAZR on our plasticfamily plan for her b-day. Now she has to talk to me on her cellphone and she can't claim that she's running out of minutes and that it's costing her money to talk to me.

Penpals

plasticann: Adam, Zara says Zess loves band-aids so I'm going to send Zess the rest of our Dora band-aids.
Adam: Remember how I was using the Dora band-aids and I got harassed about it?
plasticann: Yeah, I remember. I like sending Zess stuff in the mail. She's at this great age that she's actually excited about the same things like Hello Kitty. Zess is going to be my new penpal.
Adam: That's great!
plasticann: I'm excited....[pause]...[jokingly]...except when I think about it, Zess doesn't really take initiative with me sometimes. I mean, it's not like she really write me back.
Adam: Um, she is only three.

Adam has an excellent point, Zess is only three and I am definitely not three. Plus, she's still technically illiterate though I'm sure that won't last long given her giant brain. It's probably unreasonable to hope that she'll mail me letters. On the other hand, Zess did call me up while I was in California last month to ask me if I wanted to bake with her which I thought took a lot of initiative and was very sweet.

America's Test Kitchen

Adam skipped work this morning to join me and the Sloan Tasting Club for a tour of America's Test Kitchen. The test kitchen where the show is taped and the magazine operations for Cook's Illustrated and Cook's Country are located right near the Brookline Village T stop on the Green D line in an unassuming brick building where their office suite is called "Boston Common Press." Walk up a few flights of stairs and you get a giant professional test kitchen, a library of cookbooks, giant life sized cow and pig to demonstrate the different cuts of meat, etc. Adam was hoping we'd get a discount at the "gift shop" and he wanted one of those cards that summarized what products they like the best so you can buy the best canned tomatoes. While there was no gift shop and thus no discount, Adam did get his shopping card and we all got a FREE cookbook to boot.

Chinese New Year: Postscript

Well, we had our friends Wheezy, Steve, Zara and Zobby over for Chinese New Year on Saturday when we inagurated our new shabu shabu hot pot cooking appliance. I was a little worried at first, but our dinner was delicious and people seemed to enjoy themselves. They all ate a lot which I take to be a good sign and we had so much extra food, we hosted a second dinner on Monday just to eat through our fridge. Because hot pot meals are full of liquid, Adam's belly was visibly poofed out after dinner...it was so alarming, I [insensitively] told him he looked kinda pregnant. A big belly is surely a sign of a good meal and a good eater. I was relieved to see that the belly poof receded quickly by morning.

Since we couldn't share our hot pot dinner with Zess and Zames, we sent the kids some red envelopes filled with cash...well a single two dollar bill. plasticmom was alarmed that I was violating the law by sending cash in the mail, but I reminded her that I was sending two bucks not loads of drug money. Rather than spending her two bucks or investing it in an interest bearing account, Zess has been playing with her bills according to Zara. I've also assumed that Zess has appropriated one year old Zames' two bucks as any big sister should...for safekeeping of course. Fortunately, the bills are crisp and brand new so Zara need not worry about Zess playing with dirty money that needs to be laundered. Happy Chinese New Year to all and to all a Happy Chinese New Year. [I just made that up.]

Prep Time Part II

Tuesday is community soup day at work and Adam was in charge of cooking yesterday. The following is a reconstruction of a conversation Adam reconstructed.

Adam: [time is 12:45pm] Sorry everyone, lunch was supposed to be at 12:30pm, but it's going to be more like 1pm.
Office: We know...we read the blog.

Saturday Adventures: Delux Town Diner

I was in charge of planning our Saturday adverture this weekend so I chose the Delux Town Diner. We got there around 9:15 in the morning and wait was around 10 minutes. We shared short stacks of their sour cream flapjacks, potato pancakes and a side of bacon. My goodness, the flapjacks were amazing. Fluffy, Crisp, Rich in Flavor! Some of the best I've had, I'm still fantasizing about them. I briefly considered scarfing down Adam's half of the pancakes before he could stop me, but I decided not to cross those boundaries for the sake of our marriage. Adam had no clue about where we were going for breakfast and I'm usually pretty bad about surprises. I even had him guess. [A is for Adam, P is for plasticann]

P: Guess where we're going?
A: Harvard Square?
P: No!
A: Soundbites?
P: No...we are taking a bus though.
A: Are we going to Arlington?
P: No!
A: Is it Medford?
P: No!
A: How about Somerville?
P: No, I can't believe you haven't guessed it.

And so the conversation continued even as we were waiting for the 71 Bus in the lower bus level at Harvard Square.

A: Are we going to Breakfast Club?
P: No!
A: How about Saugus?
P: Yes!
A: [full of excitement] Really, we're going to Kane's?
P: Uh..No! Saugus is really far.
A: I thought maybe you figured out how to get there by bus, but I guess it's more of a zipcar activity.
P: [Bus pulls up, flashing "Watertown"] Here's our bus. Don't look where we're going.
A: I looked, Watertown.
P: Do you know where we're going now?
A: Red Sauce?
P: Mmmm...Chicken Parm, but no!
A: I thought Red Sauce for breakfast would have been odd.

Turns out Adam had never heard of Delux Town Diner which explained why he failed to guess correctly. Unfortunately our bus was filled with overly helpful eavesdropping passengers who kept asking me what I was looking for and where I was going and whether they could help since they were longtime Watertown residents. Therefore, I had to make a mini announcement to half of the bus saying, "He doesn't know where we're going, it's a surprise, but I have a map so I think we'll be OK, but thanks."

Prep Time

Back in college when Adam was home one summer, he cooked elaborate and delicious Indian dinner for his parents every night. Mama and Papa Zakun seemed excited about having a personal chef for the most part, but unfortunately, they often ate dinner at 9pm or 10pm because Adam would underestimate the time he needed to cook. There was also the issue of Adam using lots of pots and dishes, but that's not the point I'm making today. I'm happy to report that this "underestimating" happens a lot less these days, but it still happens on occasion. Adam made a delicious Alsatian chicken dish last night. Unfortunately he didn't get to enjoy it because he wasn't finished cooking before he had to meet his friend Wayne at 8pm. The following is a reconstructed conversation:

plasticann: So, when's dinner?
Adam: Well, it's not going to be ready for a while. I'm meeting Wayne so you're going to have to finish cooking it.
plasticann: How long was it supposed to take?
Adam: 45 minutes, but I underestimated the prep time.
plasticann: [looking at her watch and doing the mental math] 45 minutes. I think maybe you didn't "underestimate" so much as you didn't estimate any prep time.

In his mind, Adam thought he could do all the prep in 10 minutes, but according to his time line, he gave himself like two seconds to chop up a head of cabbage and who knows what else. The good news is tonight, we'll enjoy leftover Alsatian chicken for dinner with minimal work.

Being Chinese

I ventured downtown to shop for the Chinese New Year dinner we're having on Saturday. Even though I'm Chinese and I grew up in a [suburban] Chinatown, I felt completely overwhelmed as I shopped in a small cramped Boston Chinatown grocery store on a icy and frigid day. My family typically celebrates the new year with a hot pot dinner, some lemon chiffon cake for dessert and of course, red envelopes. We're clearly not super observant since we celebrate Chinese New Year whenever it's most convenient so I actually celebrated last month when I was in LA. In fact, plasticmom and company celebrate at least twice a year, pretty much whenever someone comes home for a visit...it's "Chinese New Year."

Understandably, I have no idea what other Chinese people actually do for Chinese New Year and I was utterly baffled when I came across this huge display of new year type foods packaged in a lot of red at the market this afternoon. I considered buying some new year themed sweets, but then I realized that I had no idea what this stuff was nor did I have any desire to eat it. After I lugged all my groceries home gingerly treading across giant frozen sheets of ice formerly known as a sidewalk, I called plasticmom in a mild panic. After 11 years in New England, had I lost my "Chinese-ness?" Thankfully, plasticmom [who is Chinese] assures me even she is sometimes baffled by her suburban Chinese supermarket and has, at times, purchased the wrong item. I feel so much more Chinese and much better.

Valentine's Day Storm

A "Valentine's Day Storm," as the weather folks are calling it. Is it Romantic or Unromantic? Given that I had to slog through the messy snow I'm going with the later. I am reminded of the Cookie Exchange Storm back in December 2003 when a even huger storm hit on the day of Laurel's cookie exchange party. I remember walking up her street with snow pelting me in the face all while I tried to shield my cookies from the elements. Getting there was a pain, but we were all rewarded with all the cookies we could eat and some.

Newfangled Technology

Despite the fact that I'm in my fourth and final semester, I'm still flummoxed by the newfangled technology at school. Some of classes have switched to a newer class website system that I'd never seen before this semester, a system appropriately named "Stellar." Unfortunately, I didn't catch on that the name of the school wide system was "Stellar" so I spent many days feeling perplexed by some of the e-mail messages I would receive about these classes. All of these e-mails would refer to the classes as, "Note: This mail was sent to all participants and guests in the Stellar class 'Pricing'" or "Stellar class this or that. At first I thought it was one overenthusiastic TA referring to the classes as Stellar, but then other classes were being called Stellar and every e-mail made reference to the class being Stellar. After a few days, I thought, "Come on, I know the class is good, but do we really need to call it Stellar every time we refer to it?" Boy did I feel sheepish when I finally figured out the computer system was called Stellar.

The Enemy

Adam and I went to a Sports Management Conference at school on Saturday which was really cool. I'm not a huge sports fanatic, but I learned a whole lot about salary caps, expansion teams, fan management, etc. They even had Bill James the baseball stats guy on one of our panels. He was very funny by the way. The following is a reconstructed conversation about the free LA Dodger's flashlights we received:

plasticann: These flashlights are pretty cool.
Adam: We can't keep those.
plasticann: Why not?
Adam: The Dodgers are the enemy.
plasticann: The enemy? That's pretty strong, they're not evil like the Yankees who can't be bothered to wear their names on their uniforms.
Adam: The Dodgers aren't evil, but it's a rivalry.
plasticann: Why don't you like the Dodgers?
Adam: Because [the royal we] we're [San Francisco] Giants fans.
plasticann: [resigned] alright, I'll mail these flashlights to my friend Wayne who loves the Dodgers.

Now, Wayne would call the Giants the enemy and once said that Adam seemed like a nice enough fellow despite being a Giants fan. As for me, I guess I'm now a Giants fan by marriage.

Korean Fried Chicken

I was salivating when I read this article, "Koreans Share Their Secret for Chicken With a Crunch," in the New York Times the other day. The swell of enthusiasm I felt for Korean fried chicken reminds me of the time I read about a Guatemalan fried chicken place called Pollo Campero that opened up in LA. I must have bugged Laurel about it because she finally drove me to Pollo Campero one winter when we were both home for the holidays. The actual chicken didn't quite live up to the myth and the lore, but I have high hopes for the slightly more upscale Korean fried chicken. You might be asking, what is this Korean fried chicken plasticann speaks of. Well, according to the article, "Korean-style fried chicken is radically different, reflecting an Asian frying technique that renders out the fat in the skin, transforming it into a thin, crackly and almost transparent crust." Rachel Ray would say, "Yummers," but I say, yet another reason besides KidFresh to visit MGDub in the Big Apple.

KidFresh

This gourmet prepared foods emporium was featured in the New York Times a few months back. They make fun meals for kids that are nutritionally sound and portioned controlled for a specific age group. I was super jealous and wanted to eat their meals since it was all super cute, but I'd probably have to eat like five kid's meals to fill me up. Maybe next time I'm visiting MGDub, we can check it out...they do have an ice cream bar and ice cream is not just for kids with parents who have large amounts of disposable income because even I don't spend $4.25 for breakfast for myself everyday.

Overheard

We heard that Zess has renamed what was formerly known as "quiet time," "loud time." While it's clear that Zess is exerting her independence of thought and voice, it's less clear whether she spends the entire "loud time" actually being loud in her room.

Baby It's Cold Out There

It's officially wicked cold here in Boston. Right now, it's 14 degrees, feels like -1 degree, but it's a sad state of affairs when I start rejoicing when I see that the forecast is 24 degrees, feels like 15 degrees at 2pm. It is all relative.

Administering Tough Love

Adam and I are natural pack rats and tend toward clutter so it's good that we have each other to administer some tough love when it comes to getting rid of stuff. Fortunately, I had no problem getting rid of Adam's stuff, namely his bloated wardrobe. Unfortunately for me, Adam had no problem getting rid of my collections of what he calls, "random crap," or my collections of Hello Kitty paraphernalia and other doo dads that serve no apparent purpose. While I'm the worst, we each whine, argue, negotiate and pout when the other tries to throw stuff out. The process is painful for all involved, but ultimately good so last week I tried to do the same for plasticmom's spare room. I expected some of the same resistance and dynamics, but plasticmom was actually much better behaved than I usually am and we did have some hilarious moments including the following reconstructed conversation that occurred shortly after I tried to convince plasticmom to get rid of any bags she had multiples of:

plasticann: [opening up a plastic bag] Let's see what you have in here. [pulls out a stack of small zippered pouches] Are these all the same?
plasticmom: Yes, you can't get rid of those because I use them everyday and I got them from Japan.
plasticann: [incredulously] How many do you have? One, two, three...five...nine, ten, eleven. You have eleven of the same little pouch?
plasticmom: They're perfect and I love them!
plasticann: Do you really need eleven of the same thing?
plasticmom: Well, you see...the store that sells them always looks like they're about to go out of business so every time I go to Japan, I'm always afraid they'll close down soon and I won't be able to buy any more pouches. So I buy a couple more every year, but somehow they always manage to stay in business the next year I go back so now I have a lot of these pouches.
plasticann: [laughing]
plasticmom: You can't throw those out, I spent $X on those pouches and I love them.
plasticann: I can't believe you spent $X on all these pouches. Don't worry, I won't even ask you to get rid of these since you're clearly commited to these pouches.
plasticmom: I use a new one every year.
plasticann: That's great, why don't you switch to a new one today. You've been using blue, how about a red one for a change?
plasticmom: No, we have to use blue. Blue is for when I'm in the country and Red is for when I travel internationally.
plasticann: Okay, blue it is. By the way, what do you do with the old worn out pouches?
plasticmom: I was afraid you were going to ask.
plasticann: Oh no...you keep them somewhere, but but you have an eleven year supply of new ones.
plasticmom: Of course I keep the old ones. When I use up my new pouch supply, I'll be really old like the old pouches I'll then be reusing.
plasticann: [dejected] Alright, keep the pouches...I won't argue with you.

Napkins

I absentmindedly wiped my fingers on my pajamas this morning while I was eating my breakfast in front of my computer when I was reminded of the time Zess got in a little bit of trouble for wiping her hands on the tablecloth at dinner one night. She got all flustered after she was called out on it so I was tempted to tell her not to feel bad because I forget all the time and use a wide assortment of non-napkin items like the tablecloth at a restaurant and my pajama pants. I decided I shouldn't say anything since I'm now her plasticaunt and I should set a good example, but I did feel like a fraud not 'fessing up to my bad manners. On an unrelated note, I now have to go wash my pajama pants.