Grand Adventures: Creating new milestones

Posted on May 15, 2013 by jltupper

Now that I’m well over 25, married, and graduated from high school and college, I’ve technically left all the big celebratory events in life behind. That seems so ridiculously sad.

Why don’t we celebrate more in our lives? Is it that around thirty most people are devoting their time to raising children, while I don’t plan to have one of my own? Or because a lot of these traditions were started living to 40 was a big deal?

Screw. That. I want to continue celebrating things in my life well beyond my twenties, and to highlight anything that catches my eye. Here are some birthdays and other things I’m totally going to celebrate:

Graduating from grad school. I value this far, far more than my college degree. It’s a show of my skills, I’ll be presenting a thesis, and I feel like I’ve grown considerably in the last 2+ years. My roommate should get one of his degrees when I do, so I’m building a party that’s a pretty close mimicry of a wedding for my own amusement. Plus when I’m really frustrated, spending a few minutes plotting this out cheers me up and gets me back on track. Somewhat.

I also may use this as a time to celebrate how far I’ve come as a photographer. This is one of the first photos I ever took on an assignment, and I’d love to reshoot some old frames to see how much my composition skills have improved.

I can so see how I had no clue what I was doing.

Daily awesomeness. I don’t like that hosting a party for the sake of having a party tends to be limited to birthdays. Once I’m out of school, I want to host quarterly events just to hang out with awesome people in ridiculous settings. I’d love to host a party to celebrate the first farmer’s market of the season, or the first sight of cherry blossoms in Seattle.

Candidacy Speech Birthdays. You can legally run for President once you’re 35, and become a Senator when you’re 30. Why not use those birthdays to give a speech? So what if you’re not going to be President – it’s a silly chance to talk about what matters to you and what you want to do with it. Even if your main goal is to just get more sleep.

Food holidays. I’m not going to lie – there are a ton of food holidays, often multiple on one day. I’m not out to celebrate every freaking one, but it’d be fun to pick a few that are awesome (Toasted Marshmallow Day is August 30th) and turn them into an annual group event.

Forty by Forty. Bucket lists are fun, but I’d want to start one at age 39, and then complete all of them in a year. Maybe nothing too crazy, but all sorts of stuff I wanted to do in a year, from acts of kindness to ziplining to camping. Then I could celebrate them all in one party where that party includes the fortieth item on the list. Or with forty cupcakes. I’m not too picky.

Make up new milestones. The last prime before 100 is 97; I’d totally celebrate living that long. I’d love to make a company and give it a birthday – even if only I celebrate it, it can have cake, too. Or there’s five and ten year anniversaries of staying in a town, or celebrating starting a new profession or going back to school or whatever sounds amazing in your life.

DIY: Wedding Dessert Bingo for the sugar-inclined

Posted on May 9, 2013 by jltupper

I was way too amused by the idea of cake bingo as something to do at wedding shows, so here’s a card for those of you who might want to give it a shot. I personally feel you should only mark off a square if you’ve eaten the cake/treat, but if you’re gluten-free/lactose-intolerant/allergic, no one will fault you for avoiding sugary trouble.

There are no winners, only happiness.

If I was doing this, I’d want someone to take over a table we could bring all the desserts to. I mean, if we’re all hunting cake, I prefer to compare notes over a smorgasbord of sugar rather than block everyone else who’s trying to get a taste.

Can we have a cake CSA?

Posted on May 3, 2013 by jltupper

I got told, rather nicely, by a professor that I need to stop starting ideas, hunker down, and get my thesis in order. Which is totally reasonable, and I actually agree with him, but like a friend said, it’s like asking me to stop breathing.

I am an idea generator. It is both awesome and incredibly distracting – it’s way more fun to imagine cakes than review for exams.

So, while I can’t actively start pursuing things too far, I can still think up ideas and share them. Ideas are best when everyone can learn from them.

So, today, some things I wish existed in Seattle:

A cake CSA. Yes, there are delivery services like Troubadour Baker, but I’m talking about tiered, buttercream or fondant miniature masterpieces, in boxes tied up with ribbons, just because.

We don’t have enough cakes, especially not for a random pick-me-up. So, once a month, on a day you pick, cake. And seasonal cakes, vegan cakes, gluten free cakes, a mix of retro and fanciful. Cake pops would also work for an added cute factor, but my mind’s on something layered with frosting or jam.

In my ideal world, there would also be delivery and pickup options. Delivery would be lovely, but I think it would be fantastic to have a room all decorated with cakes and people could come and pick up one from a giant table of desserts.

Bonus: local artisan cake/dessert mashups.

Amazing live/work collectives. As I continue my quest to have a blogger commune, the more I think it would be fun to either have a bunch of cottages close together with a common ‘lodge’ or take over a warehouse and have one floor be the office and the rest studios.

However, unless I could convince a bunch of you to move to Bremerton, land of the fallen housing market, we freelancers so can’t afford it. (There are brand spanking new houses selling for $200,000. We could move a whole army of bloggers out there.)

I actually don’t think this is impossible – it’s just something you’d need a lot of backers on in some form, either as a co-op or investors. And people who are willing to wait 6-12+ months while renovations happen. It’s just not an easy sell on Kickstarter, though I would totally give it a shot.

More things involving waffles. I’m testing out a waffle maker for Crave Local right now (commentary to follow), so I spent some of my fevered state making waffles. (There’s only so much you can do with a 99.8 temperature and half your normal alertness.) The first “actual waffle” recipe was a bust, so I made some really awesome cheddar/bacon/scallion waffles – using a pancake recipe. I have yet to screw it up, and it’s a super thick batter, so I was hopeful it would at least not suck, and they’re fairly awesome.

Savory waffles are a beautiful thing, people. Yes, Seattle’s finally getting all these waffle trucks, but it’s not that hard to use my favorite recipe and make something delicious. I’d tell you the proportions, but honestly I just make some bacon, let it cool, set up the pancake batter, then mix in a ton of grated cheddar, minced bacon, and chopped scallions, then some pepper if I feel like it. If it looks like there’s not enough of something, I add more of it. One of these days I might measure it, but it’s kind of fun to see how bacon-y waffles can get.

Really good buffet restaurants. Outside of Las Vegas and the rare vegan or Indian buffet, these are a rare breed. I love the idea of buffets, of getting tons of tiny bites and trying a billion things I wouldn’t necessarily order as an entree. Please, please can someone make a brunch buffet more expansive than what you get at Portage Bay Cafe? I would live in it.

Also, tiny french toast bites. Please.

Things I’m thinking about – weekend of April 5

Posted on April 5, 2013 by jltupper

I’ve been off mainly trying really hard to get healthy. I mean, I’ve been ridiculously sick for 2+ weeks before, but in some ways being only mildly ill is worse. You have just enough conviction that you really want to go outside, and your body can’t quite take it. So, you wake up and lay about the house.

Yeah, that was the last two weeks of my life. Stay healthy, people!

Things I’m thinking about: weekend of April 5, 2013

Did you know there’s a Japanese Tea Garden on Capitol Hill? I found it by accident while on Google Maps, tucked in the buildings of Seattle University. I’m going to check it out once I have a free moment.

Why aren’t you on a canoe yet? For me it’s field season, which means canoe season, so I’ll be out on the water looking for nutria damage as much as I can until June. But now that the weather’s great that doesn’t mean I should hog all the fun. (Though I admit I’d rather not have my favorite spots flooded with people, even if the places are awesome.)

I have no clue where this trail goes, and I intend to fix that.

Feral Feasts is returning to Queen Anne. They’re taking over Grub yet again on the 15th, and at $45 for a pop-up, it’s a screaming deal. I think people should try pop-ups and experimental restaurants, if only to get out of a dining funk, and this could be ridiculously fun.

Coming up on Ricochet: A weekend trek to Bainbridge Island. I spent a day last week on Bainbridge, so there’s a post coming up on that shortly. Given how the weather shifted towards the side of gorgeous, I’d really recommend going out this weekend and getting some sunshine.

So I’m making a Rose Crown. Out of duct tape. It’s for my birthday, mainly because it sounds funny. I’d be more fancy, but I wanted something I could make using crafting supplies I already had in the house. Tutorial and awkward progress photos to come.

Everyday Adventures: Taking the long way home

Posted on April 4, 2013 by jltupper

Once I’m home, I generally have trouble convincing myself to go out again. This eases up during the summer, when you can relax in the sunshine until 8 pm or later, but with it still getting dark by 6 I tend to go straight home, maybe bake cookies, and study or read until I go to sleep. Not the most exciting, but I am one of those people whose motivation goes down exponentially after sunset.

Now, I don’t have a car. I have a few routes home – I can take this one bus, with a half mile walk home and the shortest overall commute. (There’s another semi-direct option, but the way back is all uphill.) I can go through downtown and catch a connecting bus. Or I can catch a bus to the nearest neighborhood hub and walk about twenty minutes to get home.

Most of the time, I take one route to school and another route back. Fairly uneventful.

Now that there’s some sunshine and I’m less inclined to get out of the cold as fast as possible, I’m starting mixing it up again – whatever bus arrives first is the one I take, no waiting to see what else shows up, no checking One Bus Away.

I know each route well enough to know there are things I want to do via each path. A new pancake truck just opened up that sounds fantastic. Happy hours to check out. Kitchen sales, window shopping, maybe picking up extra groceries.

I was early for a meeting the other day, so I decided to wander about the neighborhood first. There were some ridiculously cute puppies, like an overeager German Shepherd and a gorgeous Australian Collie. I wandered into a shop I had been meaning to visit for weeks. They didn’t have the soap I wanted, but there were pretty chairs, meat cleaver necklaces, and huge owl statues.

That sucker watched you. It’s bigger than it looks.

Then I got a chance to check out Von Trapp’s, that new German-themed bar on the hill. I’m not going to give a review here, but it was a lot of food and I’m still not sure why there were people with babies in that place. It’s more than a bit loud.

So, I loaded up on carbs, stared at puppies, and generally had a decent dinner. Much better than staying home all night.

I don’t think this should be limited to bus-bound people. Drive a car or in a carpool? Bike? Try a new route. If you can’t change your route because there’s only one path that works, can you add a new destination?

The sun is back, the cherry blossoms are out, and there are pretzels, people. Go get them.

Everyday Adventures: What to do when your friend bails

Posted on March 28, 2013 by jltupper

A bigger frustration for me than eating alone is when you scheduled to meet someone and they don’t show. Especially at a restaurant, where then you’re suddenly at a table by yourself. While it’s a surprise, it’s one you can work with. Here’s how I assess dining/being out by myself – the end goal is to have an awesome time, whether I’m by myself or with friends.

Step 1: Try to determine why your friend is can’t make it.

If they’re simply flaky by nature, that’s one thing; it’s another if they have a family member dealing with a medical emergency. No point in getting upset until you know what happened.

Step 1a: If you need to be angry/frustrated/sad, that’s totally cool.

Step 2: Do you want to invite anyone else to join you? Given it’s last moment, this is probably challenging. Still, nothing wrong with trying if you think someone else might be free.

If they show, go back to the original plan; otherwise, on to step 3.

Step 3: Assess the situation. Are you still home? Are you at a restaurant/mall/theme park/secluded tropical island? (If you at the last one, I’m jealous as hell.)

If you’re waiting outside the restaurant/mall and not committed to anything and no one can join you, then I say go exploring with that time you were going to hang out. Did you see anything cool on the way in you wanted time for later? Go for it.

If you’re at a restaurant and already seated, probably the worst part of it is having that second place setting stare you in the face – that signal that says to everyone else “you’ve been stood up.”

Next, determine how much you care about being seated at a table clearly for two. If it’s really bothering you, have the other setting removed or ask your waiter if you can move to the bar. If it’s not bothering you, you don’t have to move, and if someone’s judging you, they have some serious issues.

I admit, nowadays I’m often carrying notes for school/work, so I might pull those out if I’m feeling really nervous (or I realize how much I’ve been procrastinating.) Unless the place is jammed full and there’s a big empty bar, the waiter probably doesn’t care if you take up a table for two to yourself.

If there are more comfy-looking chairs, though, now’s totally the time to take one over. Comfy chairs are totally the way to go.

If you’re on that secluded tropical island, you’re on a secluded tropical island. Go stare at some palm trees for a while and then go watch crabs on the beach.

Step 4: Order something awesome, but keep somewhat to the original plan. If you need to add a drink, that’s one thing, but ordering a bottle of wine when you’ve been nursing that glass of water will probably, sadly, add to the collective staring.

I’m a big fan of things involving fried onions and vague attempts at eating healthy, but definitely get that steak if it’s calling your name.

Step 5: If someone’s actively staring, they’re being ridiculous, and more than a bit nosy, which isn’t fun. If you’re up for it, stare right back. Smile. That should stop all eye contact for the rest of the evening.

Step 5a: If you want no one to bother you, period, grin broadly, like they’re your best friends.

Step 6: Have an awesome meal, then get something awesome to take home. Nothing wrong with having leftovers for breakfast the next day – unless it’s a pile of melted Halloween candy. Then you’re me at age nine.

Step 7: Tell that friend that they missed out on an awesome time, and go invite different friends out if it turns out this person doesn’t like to show in general.

On Hunger Action Week, and food stamps

Posted on March 27, 2013 by jltupper

I recently received an email asking if I could contribute anything to the United Way’s Hunger Action Week campaign. I’m not able to take the challenge due to dealing with illness, but it’s a good chance to talk about the fact that I spent two years on food stamps.

That being said, I see my case as an example of nothing more than luck and a heavy dose of privilege, but it’s still something to learn from.

Before I started grad school I was a habitat restoration technician, spending my time cutting down invasive plants and planting trees. I loved my work – I have never, before or since, been so consistently thanked for my job – but it was incredibly physically strenuous. I worked four ten hour days each week my first year, and generally came home exhausted. My hands alternated between functional and useless, acting more like claws than fingers.

I made minimum wage, with rent taking half my paycheck; most of the rest went to doctors. So, after I started that job, I applied for food stamps. That little card made a huge difference – I went from barely making enough to eat to being able to have meals and having a tiny bit left over for emergencies.

That being said, I had a lot of things going for me: I didn’t have a child to feed, or student loan debt. While we were long-distance, my now spouse had his own job and wasn’t reliant on me. I was under my parents’ health insurance. My car was fully paid for, I had relatively cheap rent, with roommates to help offset costs, and I was reasonably close to being fully able bodied. My actual needs were few.

I also had the time and energy to research its limitations and ways to max out my food stamp benefits. I shopped at farmer’s markets, bought things on sale at Trader Joe’s, and had enough cooking skill and gear to eat reasonably well.

Now, let me say this, and make it brutally, achingly clear: I. Was. Lucky.

Most of my cohorts had student loan debt, and lived far from work in order to afford the cost of living. Or they lived in large houses with tons of roommates. Or they lived with their parents. Whatever they could do to make ends meet. A single minor injury could make or break your ability to pay rent. Food stamps probably kept us all just a bit saner, but it was frustrating to be actively working to fix the world and also be reliant on food stamps just to function.

In an ideal world, we would not need food stamps. I see stories of towns in Brazil who have managed to clear out hunger, and compare that to listening to people on the bus swap stories about which food bank is the best. I know we can fix this.

We desperately need to first reshape the culture of food, and how we distribute food in our culture. Also, the time, energy, and ability to cook your own food should not be a luxury, but a basic human right. Right now in the US, we view food mainly as a necessity, but often don’t consider how food shapes moods, relationships, culture – and that must change. We are shaped by food culture, and must treat each case with care.

As we can’t do that yet, in the meantime you can support causes like Hunger Action Week. Learn about the program, but also research reform efforts, and ways to end hunger locally. It needs to be a global effort, but everything starts with one person.

Everyday/weekend adventures: the cherry blossom send off party

Posted on March 25, 2013 by jltupper

So in Japan, once the cherry blossoms start blooming people get together with huge, elaborate bento boxes of food and hang out in the sunshine. It’s called hanami, and it’s awesome.

In Seattle this year, we apparently have snow instead, so doing anything to herald spring has been more than a bit awkward. Since it’s late for the early parties, I think as many people as possible should go have cherry blossom send off celebrations.

Bloom-bento-2

There are two ways to do this: have a group cooking party, or, if you’re lucky enough to live in Seattle, get bento delivered. As I was feeling awful this week and wanted to try something to inspire me to make bento again, I ordered a delivery on the UW campus for a single bento from Jason Harris of Bloom Bento.

Bloom-bento-4

It’s a rare thing nowadays to get such a small order delivered, but he’s currently willing to even hand carry bento about for now, and only on Fridays. (The rest of the week you can pick up from his space in Fremont.) And he was even okay with a drop off at Parrington Hall.

It wasn’t a huge meal, but bento aren’t known for size. (In fact, if you’re after an epic portion, just make your own.) I received the Hiyashi Soba and Turnip Bento ($8) in a two tier jyubako bento box, with stacked square boxes of adorable and edible treats.

The first tier was simple, a twirl of buckwheat noodles topped with nori and two pink turnip halves. I admit I wasn’t a fan of the chewy root vegetables, but I’m not a fan of turnips in general. The rest was a series of tiny bites: two slices of apple, cut with the edges sliced artfully. Two cutely carved radishes. A heap of wakame seaweed with shredded daikon. Two delicate pieces of nori. (I suspect he really likes paired pieces of food.) A scoop of japanese potato salad on a leaf of romaine to separate it from slices of pickled beets cut into hearts.

As had I asked to have the egg omitted, Jason tucked in a furikake-laced onigiri. He so should start making them with umeboshi, maybe in tiny shreds for the American palate.

With tax and box deposit, it came to $10.40. And I had the most adorable meal I’ve eaten in ages, delivered by a super sweet guy.

Bloom-bento-7

What does this mean for you? In general, anyone on campus trying to be romantic or awesome should see this as one of the best delivery boons ever for Friday afternoons. I suspect more than one weary grad student will try to get campus dropoffs coordinated in the quest for healthy food during study sessions. He can deliver up to 40, so someone really should have a huge party in the literary quadrangle. (I’d so join in.)

Even if you don’t order through Bloom Bento, try to have a bento party. There’s this joy in making tons of tiny bites that I wish we had more often in American-ish food. And if a group’s working together, it’s fun to see boxes fill with apples and carrots and whatever catches your eye that day.

Bloom-bento-8 If you’re new to bento, plan in advance for the number of people involved, and just build in bulk. Lay out the trays, and work in assembly. Just focus on color and variety – some raw, some pickled; maybe reds and orange and greens. If you’re lost, try here, or here, or here, and definitely get out the cookie cutters.

Either way, it’s one amazing way to start spring in Seattle.

Everyday Adventures: DIY gummy sushi kits

Posted on March 21, 2013 by jltupper

Ever played with Japanese gummy candy kits? These suckers are, by American candy standards, hard labor: you mix a bunch of powders with water in each specified tub, stir form fluff or molded jello as the section dictates, stretch out modeling taffy, and use spherification to make a little kit that looks like sushi, bento boxes, or doughnuts. Ferran Adria would be proud.

gummy-sushi-box When I was kid, though, they were totally off limits. Given the amount of regular gummy candy and Pocky I ate growing up, I suspect this was more to limit weird bits of goo being hidden in the kitchen rather than monitoring my sugar intake. Time passed, and Chris recently finding an adorable video on Hello Kitty miniature food replicas reminded me it could be fun to try some of these out for myself.

One trek to Uwajimaya later, and for $5 on sale I had a kit to test out. And it was hilarious.

The ikura roe were perfect. When you bit one they popped, though lacking all of the salty brine and instead tasting vaguely fruity. The tuna and egg nigiri were about as distinct in taste, their texture crossed between jello jigglers and more solid gummy candy. I know I messed up the overly soft rice, but it smelled like bubble gum and tasted just as sweet.

Even with all the sugary sweetness, making the ikura into Gunkanmaki, or battleship rolls, worked far more nicely than I had planned, and I managed to form everything into something that kind of looked like the real thing if you squinted.

It’s not only a test of your ability to figure out a package (there were no English instructions, just Japanese and small pictures) but also a test in macro food photography. Because they’re gummy candies, they stick together a lot – one wrong move and you’re literally stuck. And I found out the hard way that the rice sticks to the plate, so there’s not even the chance to move things around creatively until it looks nice. Each piece of sushi candy is a bit over an inch long, so you really are zooming in or have to get creative with your setup.

It’s fun. It’s unusual. There are fake gummy salmon eggs. I admit they aren’t the greatest tasting things, but that’s so not the point of this activity if you’re over the age of seven. I still want to share it with everyone. (And maybe some younger kids who won’t find eating bubble gum candy as awful-sounding.)

I’d love to see this done as a food photography panel or group exercise, hopefully with some sushi making tools for staging purposes. Have it filmed and displayed on a big screen, give the poor panel some alcohol for their trouble, and let’s see what can happen.

It would be beyond awesome to see it happen for Camp Mighty this year, and I would host it as a panel in a heartbeat. In the meantime, if you’re near an Asian grocery store, try this if you’re not feeling super inspired. It’s ridiculous, way more fun than I expected, and you can always share the treats with someone else

The importance of styling

Posted on March 18, 2013 by jltupper

Photography is freaking awesome, but it always amazes me how important good styling is.

A few days ago, I got asked to come by and photograph RN74′s March tasting menu. And it was glorious – trout with crisp pickled vegetables, pancetta-wrapped boar with potatoes and brussels sprouts, hare rillettes, sous-vide poached prawns, chevre cheesecake. Chefs Seis and Kim were whipping up dishes for me to photograph a bit faster than I could eat and take notes. I also ate them out of order, but they were too delicious for me to care.

And those two chefs are seriously skilled at plating – I mean, just look at these. All I really had to do was find angles where the food wasn’t dead centered, as the boar and trout dishes are. It’s pretty on a plate, but my photography instincts make me avoid center horizon shots whenever possible. (My college photography professor would be so proud.)

I actually ended up taking most of the pictures on the windowsill, as we got about a half hour of really decent natural light. The staff were offering to let me use their studio lights, which was rather sweet of them, but I declined since that light was just so lovely.

Seis talked to me about the preparations: sous-vide poached prawns, ver jus, multiple ways to slice ridiculously fresh geoduck. I wish I had been recording him; it was a lesson in patience for making a gorgeous plate.

Later, Kim came out with the chevre cheesecake, and we talked apples. It’s the end of apple season in Seattle, so seeing granny smith foam was a lovely treat. I’m ready for spring, but I swear apples are in my blood at this point.

I still had way more food than I could sanely eat, especially after I kind of inhaled the cheesecake and apple sherbert. So, I took some boar and trout home, as I knew they would make for an awesome lunch.

The next day, I opened the boxes. The magic was there in the ingredients, but the original beauty of the dishes was so far gone they looked more like potato salad than a pair of composed plates. (I blame walking home and then catching a bus; they got more than jostled on the trip back.)

These are the same amazing ingredients, just completely out of context. And yes, they’re leftovers, but I could have styled them into something at least a bit more pretty – layering the vegetables, placing the proteins off-center instead of to the sides, using a semi-nice plate. Then again, I was starving, and sometimes you just aren’t in the mood to work to make a plate look better.

It was all still delicious.

Styling, people. Your true best friend in food photography.

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Stuff I did instead of my thesis.

Category Archives: Food