ChickinStew

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Things Lost in the Wake of Industry #1: Grating Cheese

So I grated cheese the other night--I know, so retro of me. People don't grate their own cheese anymore, do they? I mean, they sell the stuff already shredded and in ready-to-use, resealable packages! Why would you willingly grate your own cheese? It's just silly really--the dangerous dance between cheese, skin, and grater, the way the grated cheese sticks to itself--an inconvenience, and a dangerous inconvenience at that.

What did I gain from grating my own cheese, you ask? About 2 minutes of meditation time, and a surprisingly wicked burn in my upper arm from the back and forth motion. Also: a small Tupperware full of grated cheese that only cost me $1.50 instead of nearly $4, less packaging waste, and none of the fillers and additives that are currently found in today's shredded cheese products (and are terrible for you, like cornstarch).


When I cook, I love thinking about how or if someone could have or would have made what I am cooking 50-100 years ago. This is the kind of stuff I think about whilst cooking. Does that make me weird? God I hope so.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Farmer's Market High

As a result of reading the world-shattering food books by Michael Pollan, we have started dutifully attending our local Schenectady Greenmarket inside of the Proctor's theater walkway. We've been doing this for a couple of months now, and it has become something we look forward to doing together. I now can say that we have an 'egg guy,' a 'milk guy,' as well as a bread/cheese/candle/jam/honey guy. Or gal, as the case may be.

Sunday mornings we get up, watch the CBS morning show (when we get up early enough that is) from 9:30 to 10:30, then we mosey out to the farmer's market between 11-12. We bring about $30 cash with us and we spend it all every time. It started out small, with us just buying food--eggs, bread, cheese, beets--but it has since blossomed into this weird, happy, self-indulgent shopping trip. Today I bought almond shea butter for my hands, and beeswax candles for Easter gifts. And today we finally discovered the milk vendor, who also sells ice cream...you see how this is going to go.

I don't know what it is, but there is something about going to a farmer's market that makes you feel good. It's not a feeling I usually get from regular grocery shopping, that's for sure. Everyone is so nice and smiley, there's usually an Irish band playing, and everyone is milling about politely and making eye contact. I admit I found it very unsettling the first few times, but you get used to it, then you actually start to like it. I do still have to suppress an eye roll at the overt crunchiness, but it's easy to just focus on the food, get what you need, and go. No need to stick around for the unshaven bluegrass band that plays at noon, or the occasional poetry reading.

And this is going to sound even more ridiculous, but when I'm eating a slice of whole wheat loaf slathered with strawberry-rhubarb jam, topped off with a glass of delicious reduced fat farm-fresh milk, it makes me feel even better. It's like I'm getting some kind of whole foods high. The feeling was so strong this morning that I had to ask myself: am I getting this food high because of the deliciousness of the food itself, or because I know that the food is the best, freshest quality, locally grown and sustainable, or a strange combination of both? Maybe it's the high butterfat content in the milk, but whatever it is, I am loving it. It feels good to be buying whole foods grown in my local area, and to be participating in an exchange of goods and services that is direct and honest, for a change.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Turning 34: It's Three Gray Hairs Good

The earliest memory I have of a gray hair is back in high school--there was a wayward gray hair that a friend found and pulled out--I was probably 15, so it was a freak of nature. Since that time, I have been completely unconscious of gray hairs altogether, that is until last week.

I have pulled out no less than 3 gray hairs this week. I'm not sure what's happening here. Maybe what they say is true--you pull one, and more grow in its place. Or maybe they were there, I didn't notice, and I'm only noticing now because it's my birthday? Or maybe I've finally hit that invisible wall where my body says, 'uh-uh, no more dark hair for you, you're too old'--and BAM, gray hair.

Whatever it is, I am not liking it. I turn 34 this week, and smart asses know that means I've completed my 34th year, and am beginning my 35th one. When you put it that way--YIKES. Yes, time continues to pull me inexorably forward whether I want it to or not, blah blah blah. There is no getting off this death train! Cue obscure reference to "The Last Car," that Tales from the Darkside episode where four dead passengers (who don't know they're dead) end up riding the last car for eternity, and annoying the hell out of one another in the process.

But I'm not on the last car just yet. This week has been a flurry of lunches and dinners and celebrations--starting with my initial birthday Mexican food/80s dancing on Saturday, then lunch/dinner/lunch/dinner/lunch. And this weekend, one last family dinner, with cake. Even though it's undeniable that I'm getting older, and that I've gained 2 pounds this week from all the excess (my Wii Fit yelled at me last night), I'd say my 35th year is so far going well. I have good friends and family, a job, my health, and more importantly, I am more or less happy with myself and where I am in life. Whatever year 35 brings, I hope it's as much fun.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Be Ready for the Coming Poverty Wars with Your iPhone!

I saw this story in Gawker today and I shook my head in amazement. Then laughed maniacally at my own joke, which became the title of this blog. And then I shook my head some more.


Just when I think I've seen it all, there's always more.


We did it first in 2001 in the name of keeping the terrorists at bay. 'Yes, take all of my freedoms, please, if it means I can go on living in oblivion in debt up to my eyeballs. Yes, you're right, government, air travel is far too convenient, and we should jump at the opportunity to make this modern convenience an insufferable nightmare. What's that FAA? Now we have to fly naked as the day we were born? Well as long as I'm eating at the Bullshit Buffet, I'll take a huge helping of human degradation with a side of anal probe please.'


And now this iKey thing? The device that "lets Steve Jobs mediate your most private spaces?"  I have read a lot of science fiction, and am familiar with the 'house of the future' concept, and I don't find it cool, I find it disturbing. I am continually amazed at people's apparent willingness to sign over their most important and private possessions in the name of ease and the all-important cool factor.


In the interest of full disclosure, I will level with you and say that I love making fun of people with iPhones. I really do. And they secretly love being made fun of, because the teasing only enhances their coolness. They know the iPhone is annoying and snooty, but they have one anyway--their iPhone is a choice, dammit, not a fashion trend.


All teasing aside, I see the iPhone as a pretty cool and valuable tool if you can afford one, or if your life is so busy that you need the internet at your fingertips every second (neither of which camp I fall into). But here's another secret about me: I am a neo-Luddite and I don't trust technology. There, I said it, but I don't mean it in the way that you think I do.


Technology these days all seems to be about creating a need for a product where there wasn't one previously. I get that, it's an ingenious marketing strategy, and the bottom line is, these devices are cool, and you can't argue with cool (I've tried). But then there are people like me, stubborn atheists who refuse to get on the bandwagon, and who aren't lured by the cool factor. I have a need for a cell phone, yes, but I do not have need nor desire for a PDA or Smartphone so that I can surf the internet 'on the fly' (for a fee). I'm not saying those things aren't important for some people, they're just not priorities for me, and I refuse to complicate my life unnecessarily. I happen to love my old video iPod, I think it's great--and have no desire for an iTouch or any of the newer iterations of the Nano or Shuffle, thank you very much.


Here's a question no one asks: why have one device that does everything? Why hook yourself up to the world at every waking moment? You will inevitably become dependent on that device, and if you're not careful, that device will own you, and you'll miss out on true experiences in the here and now because your phone buzzed and you looked down. If you're ok with that, fine--but there's room here for those of us who don't, too.


Instead of letting a device define the path of my life for me, I define my technology choices by what I don't want in my life. I don't want to feel like I should check my email when on vacation just because I have the capability to. I don't want a phone call interrupting my music experience. I don't want people having access to me whenever they want.  I don't want to wear a weird thing on my ear and appear to talk to myself in public. I don't need to talk while driving. I don't need a single device that pays my bills, unlocks my car and house, and pays for my purchases.  I don't need to know what else I could be missing. I don't want to be stymied and overwhelmed at every turn by tweets and messages and downloads and emails and dinner options.


Technology is everywhere. The more we let it control for us, the more controlled our lives become; it is for us to decide how much control we give up for the sake of ease and efficiency. Are we really that busy and important? I seriously doubt it.


There is something to be said for being 'unreachable' from time to time, and I just can't let go of that last freedom.