The Joy and Misery

Here I was thinking you people would've posted something by now. I am by no means a trendsetter, a revolutionary, or a mutineer. I pave no path, I do not enlighten, I share no wisdom or knowledge (well, expect for alphabetic principal and one-to-one correspondence, but that's with unappreciative five year olds). But goodness, y'all, someone has to start this.

For those of you who do not know, I'm towards the end of my embark on my first summer break as an "educator." I don't really say I teach much, I think I babysit more than anything. But either way, I trick myself into believing that I am somehow challenging the current education system and NCLB. I like to think the achievement gap is closing due to my expertise in teaching the months of the year to the Macarana, directional positions to the Cupid Shuffle, and the long vowel sound with a delightful poem involving a bossy 'E' that has a history of 'biting' the other vowels. In addition, I have honed my skills in "Red Light Green Light" and "I Spy with My Little Eye." I also play a mean game of Sight Word Bingo.

Despite my accomplishments, or my failures (which severely outnumber the prior), I hold a lot of stress. This rewarding position I have taken has actually left me feeling worthless and unappreciated - much more than the world of retail ever did. Administrators see me as a worthless faculty 'member;' parents see me as either a) an expert, b) a racist, self-esteem damaging idiot or c) a sweet chick they'd like to take out on a date; students see me as a multiracial (I'm still trying to figure that one out) old lady who shockingly knows exactly how to "Shoulder Up Side to Side."

And according to them, I eat really weird food. The daily question at lunch is "So, is that Chinese, or what?"

This brings us to my reason for cooking. Its the one thing I can do without critics or judges. Sure, some things aren't great. I have a list of failures. Here's my Top Five failures:

1. Yellow Curry - Summer 2006. I tried curry on my own, only to have Sean say "Uh, can I make a suggestion?" He slowly put his fork down, and stopped eating. As he went on with possible additions to improve the "flavor" of my mushy rice with gooey yellow sauce, I slowly cried, and cried, and cried. And then I told him to leave.
   
2. Vegan Ravioli - Summer 2008. It wasn't so much "vegan" as it was I had no cheese. I made an impulse purchase at the grocery store of won ton wrappers (which are not vegan, btdubs) and stuffed them with mushrooms, zucchini, and onion. They quickly fell apart in the boiling water, and I ate left overs for dinner. I think I saw this one coming, though.
   
3. Meringue - Spring 2008. The Pavlova recipe in the April edition of Food and Wine sure looked awesome. But somehow, after three attempts at making "soft peaks," I realized I was out of sugar, eggs, and patience. Once I discovered that my failed meringue had made it up on the ceiling (to which I STILL do not know how that happened), I called it a loss. My then roommate's weird family, on the other hand, actually ate my failed meringue. I guess that pleased someone.
4. "Polynesian Surprise" - Summer 2008. This isn't so much a failure as it is an oddity. My dear friend Alex was in the process of moving to Boston. He made effort to use up as much food as possible prior to moving. This lead to interesting meal choices. My favorite by far was a curried couscous with an array of things - artichokes, peas, dried cranberries, I think there were nuts involved - either way, it wasn't something you'd normally piece together. Each bite involved a new flavor. Nothing was consistent. It wasn't unenjoyable, by any means, just unpredictable. Alex finished the meal by saying "In a week, you're going to wish you could have Polynesian Surprise again, but you won't be able to recreate it, because you won't be able to remember which flavor was most prominent - there are just too many." And by golly, he was right.
   
5. French Bread - Too Often to Count. I have had dreams for years of being self-sufficient when it comes to bread. I envision myself sifting flour, kneading dough, and creating beautiful scores into dough. I'd picture myself opening the door to company, saying "Oh that smell, why yes, it IS a baguette. I do fancy myself quite the expert in French peasant cuisine!" But alas, I fail time and time again. The last failed loaf left me hopeless. My only comfort came from my grandfather, a true artisan baker, who said "I spent the last 15 years trying to make the perfect baguette at home. I designed and built a kitchen solely for my baking attempts. And I have made countless loaves. And I still fail. Every time."

It seems as of late that I fail, or come up short, at every new recipe I try. When Shanna introduced the idea of a blog to me, I was ecstatic, energized to introduce everyone I knew to a new recipe or two that I had perfected over the summer. But, here I am, with nothing new. My nights consist to making farmer's market salads, various pasta dishes, and the occasional fried food (I must admit, moving to the South has sparked a "fry bug" in me. I will share these recipes in future posts - get ready). I use to cook for all those around me - Evan, Alex, Jarred, Melvinn, etc. But there's no one here in Charlotte. People have moved, or spent the summer at least 1000 miles away. I've had no drive for perfection - maybe this is the key to my summertime failures. The least I can do is provide you with a standby recipe of mine.

A couple of years ago I stumbled across Jane Brody's Good Food Book - Living the High-Carbohydrate Way. Perfect for me, absolutely perfect. Any woman who suggests eating a lot of chickpeas and pasta is a goddess in my eyes. I bought it immediately and began to read (yes, you can read it like a book). In it she has a recipe entitled "Spinach and Cheese Noodles." Its like nothing you've ever had - so simple, so easy, and so good. Its my staple for lonely nights of me + npr + wine + a good book. I don't make it too often, mostly because it'd spoil its specialness to me. However, I've never, ever made it for anyone else. I figured now would be the perfect time to share one of my favorites. It really holds a "Loop-ness" to me. I first made it in my 6273 Delmar apartment, and loved it since. It makes me think, even on the worst days of teaching, that I still hold that kid in me, who pretended to be a grown up, far too cool for everyone else in the surrounding area. I don't have to change the world, or please everyone. I can just be me.


Spinach Cheese Noodles

• 8 oz noodles (I prefer a light noodle, like angel hair)
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 clove garlic
• 1 lb fresh spinach, blanched and chopped (or you can cheat with 10 oz of frozen spinach, thawed)
• 1 tsp dried basil
• 1/4 cup chopped parsley
• 1 cup cottage cheese (I know, people think its gross, but it's so good)
• 1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
• 2 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
• S & P

1. Cook your noodles however you please. Drain 'em.
2. In a warm pan, use your oil to saute the garlic. Add spinach once garlic begins to brown. Saute until spinach begins to wilt.
3. Add the basil, parsley, crushed red pepper flakes, and cottage cheese. Cook over a low heat. The cottage cheese will begin to separate from the water in it - just leave it on the stove for a few minutes. This is totally normal.
4. After the cheese melts, add noodles. Leave over heat for a minute more, then remove and top with Parmesan. Serve immediately.