Standin' on a corner...

My parents live about 80 miles from Winslow, AZ of "Take it Easy" fame, and Gina and I agreed we couldn't possibly be so close and not go stand on the infamous corner. So off we went in my mom's Honda - not a flat-bed Ford, but it is red! - to see the tiny town The Eagles' first single put on the map of pop-culture tourist must-sees. (We actually went on Saturday, and I meant to post this a few days ago, but put it off in favor of spending a little more time with my parents and Gina during my last days of vacation.)

My maturity must be increasing, because rather than tearing off down the highway as soon as my parents' house was out of sight, I started down the road with the odometer indicating a fairly sane speed. Although part of that might have been because I'm terrified of the sheriffs and highway patrols who regularly lurk around turns near my parents' town and hand out speeding tickets at an alarming rate. Because of them, I regularly refuse to go more than five miles over the speed limit in town and on roads I don't know, but no one else seems to share my caution (which may explain the highway patrol's zest for writing tickets), so even at 60mph instead of the posted 55, I had cranky tailgaters five feet behind me for the first third of our mini-road trip, which was on a winding two-lane highway with no passing lanes. Not that such a minor detail stopped them from passing me whenever there was enough of a straightaway to see that they had at least five seconds to get around me before potentially being creamed by oncoming traffic.

We made it to Winslow in about an hour and a half, and after driving around for approximately ninety seconds, found the fabled corner, pictured at left. It's part of what is now Standin' On The Corner Park, and the mural on the building behind the statue of one of the Eagles depicts the song. The girl (my lord!) in the flat-bed Ford is "reflected" in one of the mural's storefront windows, and the couple in one of the upstairs windows is presumably Glenn Frey, who was the song's lead vocalist, with one of the "four [women] who wanna own me." If you look closely, there's even a bald eagle in the mural. Which actually fits fairly well, since some do live in the area (the birds, not the band).

After taking at least a dozen more pictures than such a small geographic area warrants (among them the one below, where we tried - and failed - to get both the statue and ourselves in a photo I took with one hand due to a lack of anyone else around to ask to take it for us), Gina and I crossed the street in search of souvenirs - I already had a t-shirt from my parents' visit to Winslow, so I contented myself with a coffee mug. We ate lunch a little further down the block at Bojo's Grill & Sports Club, wandered around for another twenty minutes in search of something interesting and, finding only the train station and the reconstructed LaPosada Hotel, decided to head back, but not before making one more quick stop by the corner to take pictures of the essential piece of Eagles lore we'd somehow left out of the first photo session.

The red flat-bed Ford pickup parked on permanent display next to the corner may have been what bumped the Mini-Road Trip-O-Meter from fun and goofy to truly exciting (although still slightly goofy). The whole trip made our day, but I think we giggled more about the Ford than anything else, for whatever reason. All-in-all, the drive was well worth it, and I'll be telling anyone who knows the song about my few moments "standin' on the corner in Winslow, Arizona" for at least the next few weeks!

How (not) to meet someone

My friend Gina is at my parents' for a visit this weekend, and the snow on the roads wasn't nearly as bad as we were expecting, so my mom and I had several hours to talk on the way down to the valley (round trip winter driving time between the Middle of Nowhere and the Airport, AZ is 6+ hours, more if you factor in the usual stops for groceries, etc.).

One of the topics covered was how much more difficult it is to "meet someone" when you're no longer in school. Since for some unknown reason, I have a deep, visceral loathing for that phrase, I often get very sarcastic when it's mentioned in conversation. And, given my general exasperation with the usual list of "participate in group activities!, always be outgoing!, try something new!, etc., etc., ad nauseam," I came up with a list of ideas on how not to meet someone instead. Or at least ways that are more likely to get you disgruntled looks than phone numbers or dates.

1. Fall into someone - or at least into their path - on the street. This is the equivalent of dropping your pencil in class, except in the real world, you can't afford to be quite so subtle. As they're helping you up, dazzle them with your charm. (Guys, it doesn't get any more sensitive and vulnerable than falling into a dead faint on the sidewalk!)
2. Spill your drink on a designated driver at a bar. If they're not drinking, they're less likely to be sleazy. Also, they're clearly concerned about their friends' welfare (or lost a bet) - perfect! Use the excuse of apologizing and patting at their shirt with those tiny, completely ineffectual bar napkins to introduce yourself and slip your number into their pocket. You'll have made such a lasting impression, they'll call you the second they get the last of their snockered friends safely home to tell you all about that police officer who pulled them over for a broken tail light and was so amusingly skeptical about the source of that smell of mojito emanating from the drivers' side window.
3. Go to a black-tie New Year's Eve party by yourself! Guy or girl, standing around looking cheerful with a hint of vulnerability lurking beneath will have every couple in the room reaching for the numbers of all their single friends who made the poor choice of going to a house party or a bar for the evening.
4. Go on a series of job interviews (actually being in the process of looking for a job is optional). You'll get a chance to meet and talk with several different people who are presumably intelligent and fairly powerful in their chosen professions, and you'll have ample opportunity to search their left hands for evidence of a serious relationship. If they're wearing a ring, on to the next; if not, they'll have your phone number!
5. Trip a fellow runner or gym-goer mid-workout (be subtle!), then help them up and introduce yourself: "Hi, my name's [your name here]. I'm red, hot and sweating like a pig - nice to meet you!" They'll be so overwhelmed by your dedication to fitness that they'll collapse in a devoted puddle at your feet. (This one actually goes back several months, to when I was at the most intense period of my marathon training and complained to three of my girlfriends about the lack of date opportunities when you're spending every non-work waking moment running. We agreed there had to be a number of cute, intelligent, very fit guys I ran past every day, but were stumped about how to stop someone mid-run to introduce oneself. This was the solution. Don't worry, I never actually tried it.)
   

Disclaimer: all of these are terrible, horrible, no good, very bad ideas, and are suggested for the sole purpose of making you laugh. Implement these or any similarly hare-brained schemes at your own risk!

Where's Santa?

Okay, two Christmas things I couldn't resist passing along:

1) Norad's Santa Tracker. I've been seeing this advertised for weeks, and was curious to see what it would actually look like. Norad has set up a satellite map of the world, and is mapping Santa Claus' route around the globe. After his take-off from the North Pole (of which you can watch a video clip), it looks like his first stop was Providenyia, Russia (very far east and very far north, as Russia goes). He's made his way west since then, and I've watched clips of his sleigh - led by Rudolph's bright, shiny nose - at the Great Wall of China, the Taj Mahal and even the International Space Station!

Norad has the site set up so that you can watch Santa's progress in real time, and click on an image of a present to see photos of the places he's already been. It's a really creative concept, and I'm having fun watching Santa's route. As I'm writing this, he's in Malmö, Sweden - the accompanying photo is from the downtown district, but I think they should have used one of the marching band statue in the older section of the city, instead. It has much more character!



2) Elf Yourself's personalized elf dance, sponosored by JibJab and Office Max. I didn't want to embarass any of my friends or family without their permission, so I've only shamed myself in this one. Visit the website, and create your own elf dance!

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

The Wonderful World of Blogs

Something of an ode to blogs and blogging written as a blog post might be a little ridiculous, but bear with me.

I love the world of blogs (which is actually called the blogosphere - how great is that?). It's the perfect place to hang out - you don't have to get dressed up because no one cares what you look like, no one interrupts you and everyone gets a chance to be heard, and you can transition from news to travel adventures to cooking to "OMG did you see that awful dress?" in a matter of seconds.

After getting myself all riled up at work with the latest round of intolerance and "we love everyone...except you're wrong and need to do this our way"-themed wisdom spewed by the religious right, I can read my coworkers' posts on the State of Belief Blog, then pop over to Hopie's Kitchen to decide what to make for dinner, maybe bounce along to the Smitten Kitchen to choose a dessert (or just drool over all the incredible recipes), make a quick detour to Parent Talk Today to get some more ideas from Kathy on the kind of mom I want to be when I grow up (I'm not really an adult yet. I refuse.) and then head over to the New York Times' blogs for my daily dose of amusement - like Christoph Niemann's witty monologue on his personal coffee saga - environmental news and research or a soccer fix, depending on my mood. And then, if my brain is awake enough to remember that English is not the only language it's capable of comprehending, I can head over to one of my new favorites: Delphine Kilhoffer's literary blog. (If you read any French at all, Delphine's observations and humor are more than worth the translation effort!)

All that without lifting more than a finger! It's probably not in vogue for someone my age, who grew up in a world saturated with technology, to be so enamored of it, but I don't care. I love having so many different voices on so many different subjects available with the click of a mouse, even if I do tend to take it for granted. And I'm sure there are still hundreds of great blogs I'm missing - what are your favorites?

Yes, I can!

This title is more an ode to The Little Engine That Could than an Obama-ism, but both "I think I can, I think I can!" and "Yes, we can" have their roots in a concept that's been on my mind a lot today: determination.

It's one of those things they never tell you you're going to need in elementary school (with the exception of The Little Engine That Could), when everyone is making lists of good qualities, or learning how to say them in an introductory foreign language class. Nice, kind, intelligent or smart and pretty usually make the list, but determined rarely shows up, and it isn't until you're in college, or maybe even later, that you realize its worth as a character trait.

It's a trait that tends to involve a lot of its friends in whatever it does: endurance, for athletes, teachers trying to make a difference in their students' lives or people trying to hold together a relationship that's hit a rough patch; tunnel vision, for the executive whose mind is set on a particular promotion or bonus or the student focused on surviving a hellacious final exam period; efficiency, for the single parent intent on giving their child the best life possible or a professional with more piles of paperwork on their desk than hours in the workweek.

For me, there's a fine line between determination and stubbornness (whose friend crankiness often tags along), and it can be hard to tell the difference - although determination usually seems to be accompanied by a feeling of certainty about the outcome that stubbornness lacks.

Being stubborn can get you in trouble, whereas being determined usually doesn't. Case in point: on a family vacation to British Columbia when I was nine or ten, my brother bought some sort of apple-flavored soda that I decided was the best thing ever invented, an opinion based mostly on the fact that he and my sister-in-law liked it, and anything they did - like drinking apple soda - I wanted to do, too. My dad told me I could have a Diet Coke instead. "I don't want no stinkin' Coke!" was my response (I have to mention that I never said things like this and it appalled me the moment it was out of my mouth, but the first week of that vacation was without my mom, so I had an extraordinary amount of sugar and caffeine in my system after six or seven days of Canadian pastry-laden meals, snacks and coffee breaks with my dad). Needless to say, I definitely didn't get an apple soda. And that unfortunate statement gets tossed back at me anytime I'm being stubborn with my family.

Contrast that with this year: in March, never having run more than 6.2 miles at a time, I decided I wanted to try to run the 33rd annual Marine Corps Marathon. I worked out a schedule and started training, telling myself I'd just see how it went. After a month of training, I was intent on crossing that finish line. There were times I got through purely on stubbornness, like the first 14-mile run I did in July when I greatly underestimated how much water I'd need and was foolishly optimistic about the fueling capabilities of a 90 calorie Special K bar. I was not going to walk or slow down no matter how exhausted and thirsty I was, goshdarnit, no way. But the experience as a whole demanded determination much more than stubbornness. And pounding toward the 20th mile on October 26th, I didn't feel stubborn, I felt determined - to do my best and to use everything my training had taught me about myself to achieve this major accomplishment.

I felt determined when I started a new job in August 2007 - I didn't know much of anything about direct marketing, but I was determined to learn, both quickly and well. And determination was my best friend when I took the two-day final exam for my French major - being stubborn about French poetry and Renaissance literature wouldn't have gotten me anything but a headache, but determination got me a degree.

I was thinking about all of this this morning as I was pulling air into my lungs and pushing it out, ignoring the stitch in my side and the knots in my shoulder while concentrating on not slipping on the ice coating large portions of the road and trying to tune out the crankiness circling in my head: I hate running at 6,600 feet. I hate running in 30 degree weather. I hate the cold. Why haven't I bought a half-zip with wicking fabric to run in yet? Why the hell am I breathing so hard after three miles? I hate running at 6,600 feet...

My mom was right next to me, keeping up with the pace I'd set even though it was almost two minutes faster per mile than her usual. When we run together, she regularly protests afterward that I'm trying to run her into the ground, but she almost always keeps up, and never fails to keep going. It's that kind of determination that's so different from the childish stubbornness I tended to rely on growing up. And it's that kind of determination that gets things done.

I think - hope - I've made a lot of progress toward relying much more on determination than stubbornness in the last few years. And I'm pretty sure that just thinking about it means I am, as well as being one of those "Oh, I'm really an adult now, aren't I?" moments that alternately make me smile and scare me half to death. I'm sure I'll still have my stubborn moments, some of which may involve stamping my foot, but I'm kind of looking forward to the adult alternative of determination, and finding out just what it can help me accomplish.

A Wintertime Story

I left Washington yesterday and flew out to spend a little more than a week with my parents, who moved to The Middle of Nowhere, AZ my sophomore year of college. And it's a mountainous middle of nowhere, so the three to four inches of snow we got this morning isn't all that unusual, but it did give us an excuse to spend a few hours alternately playing in it and shoveling the enormous driveway.

Christmas is just going to be the three of us this year - the first time in four years we haven't spent at least part of the holiday with my brother, my sister-in-law and my niece - and it's way too quiet without the pitter-patter of little (and not-so-little) feet, so I uploaded photos from this morning onto Snapfish, made up a story to go with them, and sent it all off to absent family members.

My rhyme scheme is far from perfect, but I really had fun putting the story together, using family jokes and tailoring it to include some of my niece's favorite things about coming to visit my parents. (And being able to fire things like this off to family and make them seem a little closer is one of the many reasons I love the internet.) Take a look, and maybe you'll be inspired to create "A Wintertime Story" of your own!

'Twas the week before Christmas and all across the Mogollon Rim,




snow was falling in a flurry; things were looking mighty grim.




When Grampy looked out his window, this is what he saw...




What a mess, what a muddle!




Would Grandma's garden ever thaw?




The front porch, it was silent, even the juncos had flown away!




And still the snow kept falling...




...falling, falling all the day.




So Aunt Jessi broke out the shovels,




and all the Pinneos pushed and shoved.




They pushed and shoved, and shoved and pushed, and as they worked - so hard! - the snow began to slow...to stop...and soon the skies were clear above.




With wood stacked in the shed, enough for several days or more,




Aunt Jessi said, "Let's play! I've no more patience for this chore."




And play she did indeed, making an angel in the snow.




Grandma joined in the fun, as they watched the scudding clouds blow.




Grampy took a break and watched them both at play.
"No more snow," he said, "Come inside and let's all call it a day!"




But Grandma and Aunt Jessi had just one more thing in store.
They patted and packed the snow, and packed and patted some more.




They added some finishing touches to their snowy wintertime plan, until...




...ta-da! For Miss E. and her parents, an Arizona snowman!




He's a very friendly sort, as his smile makes quite clear.




And we're sending him today to bring you some early Christmas cheer!

A Christmas addict's "bah, humbug!"

This might seem odd after the "yay Christmas!" elements of yesterday's post, but I really hate that Christmas is such an in-your-face event, beginning every November. I'm actually something of a Christmas addict: I obsess about finding the perfect present for everyone, bake up a storm, wear a lot of red sweaters and usually continue singing Christmas music well into February. It's my favorite holiday, but its pervasiveness in our society just doesn't seem fair to those who don't celebrate it, which, given the diversity of the American people, is presumably a fairly large minority.

I know that commercial businesses feel the need to use Christmas decorations as a way to entice Christmas shoppers into their stores, but can't the merchandise speak for itself? Scrambling through the aisles of Target yesterday (pre-kitchen time), I was way too busy concentrating on not stepping on small children, avoiding their parents' carts and elbows and keeping my eyes open for the elusive Lucky the Wonder Pup I was on a mission to find for my niece (who, fortunately for me, is too young to read this blog!) to even notice the store's décor. And I would have bought the toy there regardless of what the store was decorated for (Eid al-Adha, Hanukkah, the Winter Solstice, Kwanzaa...whatever!), because they had the best price for it.

I guess my point on that score is that commerce is commerce and a free market economy is pretty much going to do whatever it's going to do, regardless of what color lights a store has strung up, so why can't they focus on doing something more productive with their holiday profits than buying tinsel and sucking up even more electricity than usual?

On the non-commercial side of things, I get that decorating is a way to express the spirit of the season, which I love - from carolers to those goofy light-up Santas and snowmen people put on their lawns and in their windows. I actually talked my mom into buying a pair of vastly oversized candy canes to flank our front door when I was maybe nine or ten, pestered my dad to find an extension cord long enough to accommodate them and couldn't wait to plug them in every evening (sorry, Mom and Dad...).

But the metro stop closest to my office is decked out in red and green tinsel, my apartment building has two Christmas trees in the lobby and 2-foot-tall nutcrackers flanking the doors and my gym has been playing nonstop Christmas music since last week. Especially in a city with as diverse a population as Washington, how is that okay?

Yes, I appreciate the effort made to spread some Christmas cheer, but during a season that - for those who celebrate Christmas - is all about bringing joy to others and the spirit of giving, how can we justify actions like these that exclude so many? My Hindu and Jewish friends and colleagues are no less deserving of goodwill, peace and happiness than I am, yet there's nothing for them in this flurry of red and green, often not even the token gesture of "Happy Holidays!" in a store window instead of "Merry Christmas!" Isn't it bad enough that they spend Christmas Day on the outside looking in on a society that's almost completely shut down for the holiday, without adding the insult of a month and a half beforehand when they're made to feel isolated from the rest of the country?

On a personal level, celebrating with decorations and music is one of the best things about a holiday - it fosters togetherness for friends and family and gives us a reason to spend a little more time with the people we love. But that celebration should remain personal - it shouldn't be a societal free-for-all of "Merry Christmas, everyone! - unless you don't celebrate Christmas, in which case go away and don't bother us until it's over. We'll start bugging you to take a more active (fiscal) role in society again on December 26th. Thanks. Bye."

In the 21st century, we should certainly be capable of wishing people peace, joy, love and grace without tying it to one religious holiday. And I think we owe it to one another to do so.

Recipe Corner: Chocolate Fudge and Snickerdoodles

I'm leaving for my parents' house in a couple of days, where my mom and I will do plenty of baking and I'll spend the best part of a week on a sugar high, but I couldn't leave my co-workers without some holiday baked goods, right? Of course not! So I spent Sunday afternoon in the kitchen, with iTunes blasting Christmas music. And this time I remembered to take pictures!

After setting out some butter to soften for the cookies, I started off with chocolate fudge and The Carpenters' Christmas Portrait. Don't ask me why, but that CD is the epitome of the holiday season at my house, and must always be played at least while decorating the Christmas tree, or it's not really Christmas.

Anyway, the fudge... It's a ridiculously easy recipe that my mom's been using for as long as I can remember. It's generally a hit, and very useful if there's someone you're trying to make a good impression on - significant others' parents, in-laws, cranky relatives, etc. - who happens to have a sweet tooth or be a fellow chocoholic. I did change the recipe a little bit this year, just to see how it would turn out, but I'm pretty sure it'll still be delicious.

Chocolate Fudge
Servings: ~24, depending on what size cube you cut it into
Cooking Time: 5 minutes
Chilling Time: 90 minutes in the refrigerator
Difficulty: If you can use a can opener, pour and stir, you can do this!

Ingredients:
2 oz. unsweetened baking chocolate, coarsely chopped (really you can just break it into several chunks, and you'll be fine)
10 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips (my mom's recipe calls for 12 oz. of these, and no other chocolate)
1 can (14 oz.) fat free sweetened condensed milk
1 tsp. vanilla extract

(Photo taken post-step 5)

Directions:
1. Pour condensed milk and all chocolate into a medium saucepan.
2. Place saucepan on medium heat.
3. Stir (more or less) constantly until the chocolate is entirely melted (it'll be a very thick liquid, similar to the consistency you'd feel stirring a heavy cream sauce); remove immediately from heat.
4. Add the vanilla; stir in thoroughly.
5. Quickly pour into an 8" x 8" pan (I cheat and line mine with aluminum foil so I don't have to wash the pan afterward - the pan is really just to give the fudge a shape and prevent it from being a gooey mess while it chills. Don't forget to spray Pam on the foil - I did, so three hours later, my first batch is hopelessly stuck. Argh.) - you want to get it out of the pot before it starts to set, which is pretty much immediately once it's away from the burner.
6. Chill in the refrigerator for at least 90 minutes, or until aluminum foil pulls easily away from the sides of the fudge.
7. Cut according to preference and enjoy!

Note: We usually store fudge in the fridge even after it's chilled and cut, but that's a personal texture preference - and it keeps longer. If you like softer fudge, you should be able to store it at room temperature for a week.

By the time the fudge was in the fridge, I was in a great holiday mood and decided to switch to music with a little more energy - in this case, Hanson's Snowed In. Mock me all you want, but once you get past the weirdness of a 12-year-old singing about "what Christmas means to me, my love" - and the fact that it's Hanson - it's really fun music to bake (/dance around your kitchen belting out the lyrics you know) to. And in my defense (sort of), I was 13 when the CD came out and had recently been to my first concert ever, which was, you guessed it!, Hanson.

Snickerdoodles
Servings: 48
Preparation Time: 20-25 minutes
Cooking Time: 8-10 minutes
Difficulty: Easy, but somewhat time-consuming, given the creaming and the rolling in cinnamon and sugar.

Ingredients:
1 cup* Smart Balance 50/50 butter blend (i.e. whatever form of butter-type substance you prefer for baking)
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1/2 cup Egg Beaters (= 2 eggs)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 3/4 cups flour
2 tsp. white vinegar (this was my substitution for cream of tartar, which I don't have - I hear lemon juice also works well as a substitute here)
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
2 tbs. white sugar
1 tbs. ground cinnamon

*Most snickerdoodle recipes call for 1/2 butter and 1/2 shortening - shortening grosses me out, so I use all butter, and I've never had a problem.

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 400°F.
2. Cream together butter, sugar (1 1/2 cups), eggs and vanilla. I did this by hand because if I'm going to make sweets I know I'll end up eating too much of later, at least I'll get a little bit of an arm workout beforehand.
3. Add the flour, vinegar, baking soda and salt; stir in.
4. Mix 2 tablespoons sugar and 1 tablespoon cinnamon in a small bowl; shape dough into (small!) rounded spoonfuls and roll in the cinnamon and sugar mixture.
5. Place two inches apart on a baking sheet. I always cover mine with parchment paper and spray that with Pam - it makes for easier cleanup.
6. Bake 8-10 minutes. The cookies will puff up toward the end of the baking process, and that's when you know they're close to done. With my second batch, which came out just about picture perfect, I gave it 2 minutes after they started to puff before turning off the oven.
7. Remove from baking sheet and let cool.

So now I've gotten my first holiday baking and Christmas music fix, and my co-workers will have treats at work for a few days! What are your favorite holiday treats?

Organic - to go!

After all that complaining about weekday lunch options, I've found a pretty good one! My co-workers have been telling me to try Organic To Go for at least three months now, and I finally made it over there this week. I love the atmosphere of the downtown D.C. store - very welcoming, fresh and clean, with friendly, smiling staff from the cooks to the cashiers to the managers.

The company was founded in Seattle in 2004 and operates on the idea that people want fresher, more positive alternatives to the usual lunch options. The entire chain is certified USDA Organic, and billed as "the first fast casual café" to obtain that certification. Being certified organic doesn't mean everything they sell is - their criteria are as follows:

"1. Delicious first,
2. Convenience and availability second
3. And organic whenever possible, but at a minimum, our products are always made with natural ingredients free from harmful additives."

From what I can tell, it seems to be a nice mix - I can still buy my chemical-laden Diet Coke, but I can build my own mostly-organic salad before I drink it. They serve breakfast and lunch, and offer various catering options for both meals to local businesses. The café lunch menu offers sandwiches, salads and a DIY salad bar, soups, wraps, quesadillas, pizza and pasta as well as a few sides, and some mix-and-match "lighter side" options. They have both vegan and vegetarian items, and really seem to cover all the bases as far as people's food preferences go.

While I was waiting for my Chicken Pesto Pasta to be cooked (as I stood there and watched!), the manager brought out samples of a butternut squash soup, which was wonderful. If all of their soups are that good, I highly recommend them. The pasta turned out to be delicious - to the point that I finished nearly the entire thing, then spent the afternoon groaning about being full and the evening avoiding the kitchen and anything resembling food.

As a somewhat-obsessive calorie counter (I'm much better than I used to be! Really!), first to limit caloric intake in general and more recently to make sure I was eating enough between marathon training runs, I really wish they had nutrition information on their website, or at least an ingredient list for each menu item. The ingredient list would make it a lot easier to figure out what's organic, what's natural and whether all of the fat content in the pesto is the good kind (from olive oil) or the really bad kind (from pretty much any other kind of oil). The nutrition facts wouldn't really serve any functional purpose, but they would let me obsess a little more easily about just how many calories, exactly, I consumed at lunch.

Overall, I'm a fan, and will definitely head back to try some more of their menu soon! If you live in the Seattle/Bellevue, Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, Orange County or San Diego areas, check their website for café locations near you. (Their website could use an overhaul, and it takes a minute to find where they list locations, so... From the main site, click on your metro area of choice, then scroll down to the bottom of the page that comes up. You'll see a photo taken outside one of their cafés - click on the orange bar at the bottom of the photo that says "Visit Our Cafes" and it'll pull up a list of locations in your area. Whew!)

Happy organic eating!

Guilty Pleasures

Everyone has their guilty pleasures. Among the most common are eating ice cream straight out of the carton, cookie dough, Facebook stalking, hitting the snooze button and curling up under the covers for another five minutes and, for guys (correct me if I'm wrong on this one), walking around in their underwear.

The period between Thanksgiving and New Year's always seems to be a good time for guilty pleasures - they're harmless, fun, slightly indulgent and distract us from winter weather and the holiday shock to our bank accounts. My biggest guilty pleasure is chocolate (in any form), followed closely by romance novels (which 95% of the time means Nora Roberts). Eating ice cream out of the carton is up there too, but I don't really eat ice cream unless I have a particular craving for it, so when I think about it, there usually isn't any in the freezer and by the time I've gotten to the grocery store, the urge has passed. Which is fortunate for my exercise routine, given that I'm a sucker for all those calorie-laden Ben & Jerry's flavors, like Phish Food and Chocolate Fudge Brownie.

This weekend, I added a new one to the list: Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer. I tore through the first two books, Twilight and New Moon, in one long Friday afternoon to very early Saturday morning stint a few weeks ago. I didn't think anything of it, other than that I liked the story and had to laugh at the echoes of high school crushes the first one brought back. But then, spending most of the night reading isn't a singular event for me - I don't do it that often anymore, but if I do get really caught up in a book, I'm usually more than willing to pay the price of being exhausted the next day.

This weekend, I did the same thing with the last two, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn, and when I went back Sunday afternoon to re-read parts of the last one since there was no fifth book to start on, I realized I was hooked. And will probably spend random hours re-reading pieces of all four books for years to come.

There's nothing spectacular about Meyer's writing - she tells a good story at a pace that's comfortable for the reader, but she doesn't have the incredible attention to detail of J.K. Rowling, to whom she's often compared, or any unique literary style, like Hemingway (although I doubt she set out to write another For Whom the Bell Tolls, so that's probably irrelevant). But she's written a very touching love story with a cast of incredibly likeable characters, headed by the endearingly klutzy Bella Swan and the unbearably handsome vampire-with-a-conscience, Edward Cullen. And Meyer draws enough from the typical high school experience to keep it all grounded in reality long enough to ease the reader into the "otherworldly" side of things and make it all seem believable, if slightly fantastic.

Given that before this weekend, Twilight brought to mind a mass of screaming teenagers in front of a movie poster in which I recognized no one except the kid who played Cedric Diggory in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire... I think this new guilty pleasure may mean I'm either still a 14-year-old girl at heart, or really need a date. Or possibly both. (Kidding! Mostly. If the human, 20-something version of Edward Cullen showed up on my doorstep, I certainly wouldn't say no.) Regardless, I really enjoyed the series and would happily buy the fifth episode if one were written, so it's a winner in my book!

And now, if you'll excuse me, the hopelessly romantic teenage girl who apparently lives in my head and I are going back to sighing over vampiric happily-ever-afters...

Etsy!

Thanks to a guest post by Janine Adams over at Kathy Sena's Parent Talk Today, I've discovered the wonderful world of Etsy, and am completely infatuated.

In twenty minutes of browsing, I've found a Christmas present for my best friend (no, I'm not telling you what it is!), an adorable belt for me, countless pairs of earrings to drool over and plenty of reasonable options for the French memo board I've been dreaming about since last fall. I'm also determined to convince my dad their "woodworking" section is the perfect medium for selling some of the wonderful, hand-crafted wooden bowls he makes, since if he doesn't find somewhere other than my parents' living room for them soon, there won't be anywhere to open presents on Christmas morning.

Personal shopping missions aside...a website that exists to help artisans and craftspeople sell what they create? What a fantastic idea! It's like the best craft fair you've ever been to, without the vagaries of weather, early morning hours or crowds.

I'm a convert, and intend to make Etsy my first stop in any search for gifts, crafts or housewares from now on.

Weekday "lunching" out

Recent - more or less - college grad that I am, one of my many money-saving schemes is bringing my lunch to work at least three days a week. I'm pretty good about it - I think there have been a total of maybe six weeks out of the 68 I've been a member of the 9-to-5 crowd that I've bought my lunch three days and brought it two. The rest of the time, I've kept the purchased lunches to zero, one or two days a week.

When I do buy lunch, I want to know I'm going to enjoy what I'm buying and not get stuck in line for 30 minutes, so I've become a creature of habit. I generally head to Cosi, a soup, salad and sandwich shop a block and a half southeast of my office, or to Au Bon Pain - affectionately referred to by all current and former GW students as ABP - a soup, salad and sandwich shop (how new and different!) two blocks southwest.

I don't like ABP's salads, so if I want a salad, I go to Cosi. I love Cosi's bread but oddly enough don't like their sandwiches, so if I want a sandwich, I go to ABP. I have to admit, Cosi's salads are not particularly spectacular either, but their bread is so fantastic that I'll happily suffer a merely so-so Caesar salad once a week if it means I get to chow down on their delicious bread afterward.

Lately though, I've been seriously tempted to ask if I can just buy a piece of bread and bring my own veggies or salad, because the assembly line employees of my local Cosi's salad department are even less customer service-oriented than usual. Most restaurant and carry-out salads are doused with way too much dressing - it's a fact of life. So you either live with it, or ask for it on the side, which I'll do in a restaurant, but feel awful holding up the line to do in a carry-out joint. Usually I can spread the dressing around enough that I don't notice the excess too much, but the last two salads I've bought have been so drenched with dressing that I literally cringe at every third bite, and find myself spending more time studying my salad for edible pieces of lettuce than reading my lunchtime/Metro book (more about that later). The lettuce-tearer/chopper is also noticeably slacking: the last two salads have required either intensive folding of lettuce into bite-sized pieces, or a knife. (What, you didn't know that eating a salad is an extremely exact science, and can be scarring if done improperly?)

Having waitressed for more than a year, I understand the insanity of the lunch rush in this town (especially in the neighborhood where I work, made up of about 98% businesses), and the temptation to slack off on service just to get the not-infrequently-snippy 12-2 crowd in and out as quickly as humanly possible. But really, is more-or-less bite-sized lettuce, prepared hours before the lunch rush, and a ladle not completely overflowing with dressing so much to ask?

What are your lunchtime solutions? Any carry-out or dining-in pet peeves? Any really spectacular lunch spots near you? Please, tell all!

Recipe Corner: Basic Risotto

While my friend Hope over at Hopie's Kitchen is a much more accomplished and inventive chef than I am, I do enjoy cooking (and love to bake!), and I'd like to share recipes with you every now and then. I don't have pictures of this first one, because I didn't think to take any until after I'd scarfed down every bit of the leftovers at lunch today, but next time, I'll definitely include some photos - it always helps to see the end result you're aiming for, and some of the process.

Anyway, here we go...

Basic Risotto
Servings: 2 - 4 as main dish, depending on what you add; 3-5 as side dish
Preparation Time: 10 minutes
Cooking Time: 30-40 minutes
Difficulty: If you can grate cheese, boil water and stir, you can handle it!

Despite the intimidatingly authentic Italian images the word risotto can call to mind, it's actually pretty easy to make. This recipe is what you could call a base risotto - nothing but arborio rice and cheese - comments on how to change it or jazz it up follow the recipe below.

Ingredients:
2 tbs. (extra virgin) olive oil
1 cup arborio rice
2 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup parmesan cheese

Directions:
1a. Grate cheese. I do this while waiting for the water to boil in step 1.
1. Prepare chicken broth. You can use whatever broth you prefer - I use Knorr Chicken Bouillon cubes, by Lipton. They come in a pack of 6 extra large cubes, one of which is perfect for 2 cups of strong broth (if you prefer a weaker broth, just use half of a cube). You can usually find them near the powdered soups in your grocery store. So for me, this step involves boiling water, pouring 2 cups over a cube of bouillon in a Pyrex measuring cup and dissolving the cube.
2. Add 2 tbs. olive oil to a medium saucepan on medium heat (I use the medium-high setting, but medium will work) and allow it to warm for a minute or two.
3. Add 1 cup arborio rice to the saucepan. (Usually sold with other varieties of rice in your grocery store - Giant, Safeway and Harris Teeter all carry at least one brand of it. You can also find it in most gourmet food stores that carry European items.) Stir for 1-2 minutes, coating the rice with olive oil and allowing it to heat.
4. Pour 1 cup chicken broth into the saucepan, stirring every minute or so to keep the rice from sticking. Continue until most of the broth has been absorbed - there should be a thin layer of liquid left on top, just enough so that the rice isn't in danger of burning or sticking.
5. Pour in 1/2 cup white wine and 1/2 cup water, again stirring about every minute. Continue until most of the liquid has been absorbed. (The white wine may create a little froth on top as the alcohol is cooked off - that's normal.)
6. Pour in remaining cup chicken broth, stirring about every minute. Continue until almost all of the liquid has been absorbed (moreso than in the previous two steps - the risotto should remain moist, but you don't want any liquid sloshing around) and turn off the stove.
7. Add about half the cheese (~1/4 cup) and stir it in to melt it, then add the rest and stir it in, setting aside some cheese to sprinkle over the top, if you like. (I stir in half the cheese at a time to ensure an even distribution, but you can just as easily dump it all in at once.)
8. Serve, top with cheese if you want, and enjoy!

Despite the fact that you have to be in the kitchen the vast majority of the time with this dish, it's one of my staples. (I usually just stand there with a book, reading and stirring every 30-60 seconds.) Basically all you need is the rice, the olive oil, the cheese and three cups of liquid. You could do it with just water and experiment with spices, although you'd have to be a lot more confident with spices than I am for that. Or with just chicken broth, or with 2 cups chicken broth and 1 cup water, cutting out the wine. Sometimes if I'm trying to finish off a bottle of white wine I didn't like for drinking, I'll use a whole cup and cut out the half cup of water - it gives the risotto more bite, which I like.

I've also done a red wine risotto, with two cups of water and one of red wine (Chianti - a cheap one, no need for Black Rooster chianti for cooking! - or any Italian or Spanish red should be fine. You generally want a strong wine, not something delicate in flavor like a pinot noir, when cooking with reds.). The cheese doesn't have to be parmesan, and you can add as much or as little as you like. Last night I had a small chunk of sharp white cheddar in the fridge, so I used up the cheddar and filled in the rest with parmesan. Any hard white cheese will work - I've used Swiss in the past, and it's equally good.

As far as additions go, pretty much any green vegetable (asparagus, peas, string beans, broccoli) is a great one with the chicken broth risotto as a base. Chicken (surprise, surprise) also works well, added just before the cheese - cubed or sliced and grilled or sautéed before you add it - you can also add veggies along with the chicken. I haven't tried beef with this because I don't eat a lot of it, but it might work with the red wine risotto - red wine risotto served as a side dish with steak would probably be great! My favorite addition for the chicken broth or the red wine risotto is sautéed mushrooms - "baby bella" when I can find them for not too ridiculous a price.

I'll add photos the next time I make this - in the meantime, be sure to let me know if you have any great risotto tips, or how you like it if you make the recipe!

Getting your fix: Netflix vs. cable

I have a deep, abiding hatred of everything Comcast: the obnoxious commercials trying to sell you more of the service you're already watching, the 45-minute waits to speak with a customer service representative about something they take care of in 30 seconds, the bills that nearly double without warning when your "promotional offer" expires.

But since the building next door blocks my satellite reception for Verizon, FiOS doesn't extend to my building yet and Verizon got rid of their regular cable service...Comcast is my only option if I want to watch TV. Last month, I finally decided I was sick of paying $65 a month for basic cable and downgraded to limited basic, which includes all network channels and saves me upwards of $45 a month.

As a reward for my (belated) thriftiness, I upgraded to the two-at-a-time Netflix plan, and have been spending way too much time adding DVDs to my queue. (I love that word - it makes absolutely no sense phonetically, but it just looks so darn cute. And calls to mind fabulous British accents.) I love that I can rent a season of The West Wing and get my nightly Aaron Sorkin fix while saving Enchanted (who doesn't love a musical satire?) for the weekend, sending it back Monday morning to get Paris, je t'aime in time for Wednesday night's French class.

But I'm notoriously lame when it comes to keeping up with "must-see" films (I saw Casablanca for the first time two weeks ago), so I've got a lot to catch up on and am not sure where to dive in first. Do I move Wanted to the top of my queue for the sheer pleasure of spending two hours staring at James McAvoy? Or do I catch up on all the arthouse films I've been telling myself I should see? Or finally watch Kill Bill: Vol. 2 or The Shawshank Redemption?

Two I can cross off my "to add" list, since I've actually been to the theater twice in the last month (that's gotta be a record): Quantum of Solace and Charlie Kaufman's Synecdoche, NY.

James Bond is always enjoyable, and it'll be all over network TV as soon as it's released, if I have an urge to see it again. And I have to say, I really like that Daniel Craig's 007 doesn't seem to be spending the last scene of every film in bed, and that the supporting actress roles thus far have a lot more substance than previous Bond girls.

Synecdoche, NY, however...I lost count of the number of times I winced. The cast, led by Philip Seymour Hoffman, did a great job all around. But the plot was just painful. If you read Camus' L'Etranger and think, "Man, that wasn't nearly enough existentialism!" you'll love Synecdoche (pronounced similarly to Schenectady, where it begins). Otherwise, save yourself the two-hour headache and go see Slumdog Millionaire instead, so you can tell me about it.