Great Expectations

At the LA Tofu Festival last August, I was introduced to the traditional Japanese food item known as okonomiyaki. Alternatively called "Japanese pizza" or "Japanese pancake," it is a pan-fried batter cake filled with various vegetables, meats, seafood, and other ingredients. I heartily enjoyed my portion of the palm-sized disc of savory goodness, and since then, I've been looking for a local restaurant with this item on the menu. Its rarity made my search just a bit obsessive, which in turn ratcheted up my expectations for the moment when I could experience this dish again. That moment came tonight, when I went to a Japanese tapas restaurant called Izakaya Haru Ulala in Little Tokyo.

Although okonomiyaki did not appear on the menu, I knew from my research that the restaurant served this item. I asked the waitress for it, and she smiled, yes, indeed they do have this dish. After sampling tofu, sushi rolls, sake-steamed clams, grilled yellowtail, grilled squid, and chawanmushi (a childhood favorite that is also rare in American Japanese restaurants), the pièce de résistance arrived. But, after so much anticipation, can any food really live up to such heightened expectations? Unfortunately for me, the answer is no. While good, the okonomiyaki seemed over-sauced and consequently too salty. I know I was being unfair, but I still felt a bit disappointed. I suppose it is simply human nature; the more our desires and efforts are frustrated, the more we obsess about it, until our skewed perceptions aggrandize the object into something that no reality can live up to. It is amazing how powerful expectations can be and how they can build exponentially. More often than not, great expectations lead to disappointment. Yet, that disappointment is what corrects our vision and brings us back down to earth.

My long-awaited okonomiyaki. I probably would've liked it better without so much sauce. It was amusing (and a bit eerie) to see the dried toppings undulating from the heat of the dish. The swirling movements made the harmless "pancake" look alive!


The chawanmushi, however, did not disappoint. This simple dish is a staple in most Japanese restaurants in Taiwan, but it isn't very common in America. It is a steamed egg custard that typically includes meat, seafood, and vegetables. I love how it's served in a cute ceramic cup with a lid.

Azazel's Adventures

Allow me to introduce the latest addition to our office coterie, Azazel the Scapegoat. The creation of Only's Only and her artist husband TJ, Azazel joined our staff two weeks ago. There really could not be a more appropriate mascot for our department. Brilliantly wrought of papier–mâché, paint, and yarn, this scapegoat captured our hearts and tickled our funny bones the second he arrived. An overachiever, Azazel has already accomplished much in his very young life--approximately 16 days. To read about his birth, visit Only's Only's blog. Here, I offer a photo journal of Azazel's adventures thus far.

Azazel's papier–mâché body drying upside down during the birthing process.
Photo courtesy of Only's Only.

Settling in to his perch at the office, a mere 2 days after he was born.

Hosting his first office book club.
As you can see, he is already popular with some of the office regulars,
PJ (Pooh Junior) and Tux.

Directing his first film, Kidman.
He bears a striking resemblance to his predecessor, Cecil B., does he not?

Stepping in to fill my shoes while I take some much-needed vacation days to de-stress.

P.S. If you wish to know the origin of his name, hie yourself to Wikipedia's explanation of scapegoat.

Llama Count

Okay, this is getting slightly ridiculous, and I'm sure people are starting to think that I have a camelid obsession. After all, since this blog's inception, there have been (counting this entry) four posts featuring llamas. That means llamas have appeared in nearly 24% of my posts thus far. It is, admittedly, rather absurd. But really, I think the llamas are hounding me, not the other way around! Cases in point:

1. Last night, I was watching the Laker game on TV with my parents. Now, my parents are avid NBA fans, and they naturally have nicknames for some of the players. These, however, are not your average sports nicknames like T-Mac, KG, or AI. These nicknames are phonetically inspired, and they may be English or Taiwanese in nature. For example, Vlade Divac's last name sounds fairly similar to the Taiwanese phrase for pork meat, so that's what we used to call him. And Gary Payton's last name resembles the Taiwanese phrase for mailbox (not the private kind like the ones in front of homes, but the big public kind outside of post offices and on busy streets). It was, then, a humorous and fortuitous "convergence of events" when both Payton and Karl Malone were signed by the Lakers for the 2003-2004 season. (For non-NBA fans, Malone's actual nickname was "the Mailman." Mailman delivers to the Mailbox, get it? It's funnier in Taiwanese.) Anyway, my dad's nickname for Lamar Odom is much simpler and more obvious: llama (of course). So, we're watching the game and cheering on Odom with calls of "llama!" when Dad segues to a discussion of real llamas, those of the animal variety. He starts telling me how he began liking llamas after seeing a llama show on TV. No, not an Animal Planet or National Geographic or PBS special about llamas. I'm talking about a llama version of the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. Dad goes on to describe how beautifully groomed the llamas were, having no idea just how prominently llamas have figured in my peer conversations (and in my blog) in recent weeks. Today, I googled "llama show," and sure enough, the first hit was for the ALSA: the Alpaca Llama Show Association. Not only do people raise llamas and alpacas for their fibers, they apparently compete with them in the animal equivalent of beauty pageants. Who knew?
   
2. Today, KPGirl sent me a link to a book cover she saw over the weekend. It is just too crazy for words, so I'll let the images speak for themselves. (In case your eyes are drawn to the other amazing gadgets, I included another picture in which the llamacycle takes center stage.)
   

As fun and surreal as all the llama sightings have been, I rather hope this is the last we'll see of these camelids for a while. When I began this blog, I had no idea it would go down this road!

The Most Important Gift Catalog in the World!

Yesterday, my friend KPGirl (she of the alpaca finger puppet) told me that she was looking through her Sunday paper when (surprise!) she came across the following advertisement:
Given all the recent animal-inspired conversations, we both took one look at this cover and burst into laughter. Opening the leaflet, we found a veritable zoo of animals being offered for purchase, including (drum roll please) llamas! Upon closer inspection, we learned that Heifer International is a non-profit organization dedicated to fighting poverty and hunger. The catalog lists opportunities to purchase animals, plants, and insects that can help support or feed families in need throughout the world. $20 can buy a flock of geese in China, a trio of ducks in Ghana, or a starter flock of chicks from Cameroon to the Caribbean. A llama in Bolivia will cost you $150:
Oh yes, and you can buy shares of animals, too. We are pondering if we can round up enough people from work to jointly purchase a llama. For those whose pockets are plumper, you can purchase a heifer for $500, a milk menagerie (heifer, 2 goats, water buffalo) for $1000, or a Gift Ark (breeding pairs of selected animals) for $5000. The Heifer Ark actually travels around the world, continuing the organization's humanitarian efforts. Pretty cool.

So, what started out as something funny to laugh about ended up having an important message, particularly on this holiday. Though not everyone may wish or be able to purchase farm animals to help others, we can still take some time to help fight hunger with a few mouse clicks. In that spirit, I am including the same link that my friend Trivia Duchess posted on her blog:
By playing this vocabulary game, you can donate rice to help feed the hungry. Each word you correctly match with its synonym results in a donation of 10 grains of rice. Most of the words are fairly difficult, but it is still fun to try. Besides, it's for a good cause. So far, in three separate games, I have been able to donate 8 bowls of rice (or 800 grains). All my wordsmith friends out there, please give it a go!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! :)

Lessons in Animal Husbandry (and Other Random Things I've Recently Learned)

1. llama (m.) + alpaca (f.) = huarizo
2. llama (f.) + alpaca (m.) = misti
3. horse (m.) + donkey (f.) = hinny
4. horse (f.) + donkey (m.) = mule
5. A male donkey is called a jack.
6. A female donkey is called a jenny.
   
7. Though ass is often used as a synonym for donkey, it technically refers to "any of several hardy gregarious African or Asian perissodactyl mammals (genus Equus) smaller than the horse and having long ears; especially : an African mammal (East asinus) that is the ancestor of the donkey" (per Merriam-Webster).
8. The ass is an endangered species. In fact, the African wild ass is listed as "Critically Endangered" by the World Conservation Union. According to a 2003 "ass headcount," there are apparently no asses in the United States. (I'm sure many would dispute this statement.)
9. Peppermint Patty's real name is Patricia Reichardt. I have no idea why Marcie called her "Priscilla" in A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.
   

Lunchtime conversations at work and the ensuing research they inspire certainly yield fascinating results.

The Psychology of Darkness

Since the time change, my afternoons at work have become progressively hampered by moodiness. Okay, maybe I am exaggerating a bit, but it's undeniable that the sun's earlier setting schedule has affected my state of mind and, consequently, my productivity.

It starts around three o'clock, when slanting rays of late-afternoon sunlight begin to hit the highly reflective windows of a neighboring building, sending concentrated beams unerringly into my window and blinding me as I attempt to work at my computer. (I know, I know, at least I have a window. But, I never realized that damaged retinas were part of the deal when I was given this boon of a window office.) Around 4:00, an orange glow sets in around the horizon, and it would actually be pretty if the golden beams weren't now hitting a different building, creating a big bright glare that, though not quite so blinding, is still distracting and bothersome. By 5:00, everything becomes a dark purple-tinged blur, and I can see the white, fluorescent-bathed reflection of my office better than I can the outside view. When I leave the building at 5:30, I walk out into a shadowy night.

There is just something depressing about leaving work when it's dark. Even though I have the same amount of evening hours as I did before the time change, it just feels so late. I honestly do not know how people living closer to the poles deal with their much more drastic daylight changes. Sometimes, I wish I could succumb to the hibernation impulse called forth by increased darkness and colder temperatures... or at least its human equivalent of burrowing beneath a thick, warm comforter with either a good book or a TV remote in hand... and maybe a mug of warm milk or hot cocoa on the nightstand... Hmm, does the advent of winter cause one to regress?

Long Live Goat-Sucking Vampires!

Opening: Sometimes, I can't help but marvel at and be amused by the string of coincidences life throws our way. As an educated and (I like to think) fairly logical person, I know that coincidences are just random convergences of events. However, when they involve rather odd things, well, it does give one pause.

Exhibit A: Some weeks ago, a friend at work mentioned during lunch that her brother got married at a llama farm in Ohio. Since the bride's family also owned a llama farm, my friend chanced to visit two llama farms in one day. Most of us at the table hadn't even known there were llama farms in the US, so this information struck us as unusual and entertaining. In fact, it spurred a laugh-inducing conversation about llamas, alpacas, and the Amish. (Don't see the connection? Well, llamas and alpacas are both camelids, and llama farms and Amish communities apparently both exist in Ohio.)

"But the Amish can't use the llamas."
"Why not? They're not electric."

People who overheard our conversation probably thought we were crazy, but we enjoyed laughing ourselves silly. The merriment served as much-needed stress relief. Lunchtime and the bizarre conversation over, we returned to our respective desks. But, suddenly, llamas and alpacas seemed to pop up everywhere. We found out that another friend, who just moved to California this year, got married at the same llama farm in Ohio. (It is apparently a popular wedding location due to its picturesque setting.) A llama appeared in a cartoon video that yet another friend was watching at her cubicle (probably at the very same moment that we were having our llama-themed conversation). A few days later, at a girls-night-out dinner, a third friend insisted she had seen some "I love alpacas" commercials on TV. Before she sent us the link to prove she wasn't joking, I did some online searching of my own and came across I [heart] llamas buttons, T-shirts, and other paraphernalia. I had no idea camelids were so fashionable.

Exhibit B: I listen to NPR on my short commute to and from work. I tend to eschew TV news, I don't subscribe to any papers, and I don't actively visit news websites, so my weekday news diet pretty much consists of whatever I hear while I'm in the car. One night, while driving home, I heard a sound bite from Bush's visit to Cuba. He concluded his speech with "Viva Cuba libre!" Given his history of malapropisms, my immediate thought was, it would've been really funny if he had said, "Viva Chupacabra!" Now, I'd never even heard of a chupacabra until a couple of years ago, when a coworker wrote something about it as a joke on the lunchroom bulletin board. Why that thought popped into my head was a mystery, but I had a good internal chuckle over it. (For those of you unfamiliar with the chupacabra, it is a mythical creature known for drinking the blood of livestock, vampire style. Its name literally means "goat sucker.") Well, guess what came up as a lunchtime conversation topic on Friday? Chupacabras! A friend relayed the news about a Texas woman who claimed she captured the beast (or at least its corpse). Skeptics say it's some kind of fox, wolf, or dog, and samples from the creature were sent out for DNA testing.

Closing: As coincidences go, I realize that these are not the most eerie or outrageous. Still, llamas and chupacabras are not your everyday conversation topics, so I found their recurrences uncanny and amusing. Maybe next week, I'll hear that alleged chupacabras have turned their bloodthirsty attention to llamas in Ohio.

Do You Remember...?

The year is 1996. The Clintons are in the White House, and Taiwan finally has its first direct presidential election. The "Magnificent Seven" are the darlings of the Atlanta Summer Olympics, which featured the unfortunate mascot Izzy (short for "Whatizit?"). The Bulls win the NBA Championships. Again. The Yankees win the World Series. Again. OJ Simpson is on trial. Again. Carried along in life's rhythms and repetitions, I am navigating through my junior year at Berkeley. And saturating the airwaves, popping up in dance clubs and a host of unlikely places is the strange phenomenon called the Macarena. Everywhere you go, you can hear the catchy but monotonous beat of this one-hit wonder. Everywhere you look, you can see people doing this sexified version of the hokey pokey. The fad spreads and spreads, becoming fixtures at sporting events and even reaching senior aerobic classes. And this mania isn't localized. When I visit Taiwan in the winter, my cousins show me a goofy video of them doing the dance. I even participate in a subsequent homemade Macarena video. God, I hope that tape's been erased since then...

As I look back, I wonder what magic ingredients went into the synthesis of that obsession. Is it because even the most uncoordinated people could do that dance? Is it because people like songs to which they know only one phrase (Ehhh Macarena! Hai!)? Or, is it because every era (whether it be year or decade or century) needs something that will cause us to look back and ask, "What were we thinking?!"

Not surprisingly, the Macarena craze spawned a slew of parodies. Recently, I came across this hilarious video on YouTube. It is a brilliant Animaniacs parody titled "Macadamia Nut." Pure comic genius. (And it's even funnier if you compare it to the original video by Los Del Rio.)

Ah, nostalgia. They just don't make cartoons like this anymore. And maybe that is the real secret behind silly fads. They make us laugh, in all their incarnations. More importantly, they make us remember with a smile those days of yore and with them, our past selves. So, no matter how stupid and incomprehensible the fad, we still feel fondness for it because of all the associated memories and feelings it brings back.

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!

Yesterday, a friend and I went to see the Noah's Ark exhibit at the Skirball Cultural Center. Apparently, the exhibit had received prominent coverage in the LA Times and the NY Times, but I was blissfully unaware of this. When my friend briefly told me about the exhibit, I assumed the display would include an intricate ark in miniature, with myriad animals on or boarding the vessel. Imagine my delighted surprise when I walked into the exhibit space and found myself immersed in a hands-on, interactive experience populated with animals of all shapes and sizes made from found objects! The creativity that went into this project was awe-inspiring. I marveled at the amazing artistry of the puppet-sculptures even as my inner child gleefully emerged to create mini-cyclones, generate rainstorms, and animate various creatures by pulling levers, pumping hydraulic systems, and spinning wheels. The place truly is designed for kids of all ages.

Here are some pictures I took while wandering (and playing) through the exhibit.


Notice how the elephant's trunk is fashioned out of bamboo baskets, the kind commonly used to steam dim sum! His feet are made from steel drums, and although you can't see it in this picture, he has a "gong-able" heart. The deer's ears are shoe horns, the zebras' bodies are rotating turbines, and their manes are made from organ keys. Talk about clever usage of materials!






This picture shows part of the ark. You can load the ramp with foam animal pairs and send them up to "board" the vessel. How can one not feel like a kid again surrounded by all these cool contraptions and toys?!









More animals on the ark...

Check out the crocodile made from a viola case! And the flamingos below it have purses for bodies, fly swatters for legs, and combs for feathers on their wings.

More cool animals...



















At first, we had trouble figuring out what these brown critters were. We just thought it was cool that they had boxing gloves as bodies. Finally, I realized that these were kiwis! How cute! For more great images, check out the Skirball's website. (The penguin and hedgehog are amazing, not to mention adorable!)

Design Changes

Barely three weeks into this blog and already I'm making design changes. Much as the Scribe template spoke to the "classic" side of my personality, it just didn't seem to fit with the spirit of this blog. Parchment, quills, and ink bottles don't exactly convey "airy words." If anything, they announce "weighty words." So, I thought I'd switch to this Harbor template for a while and see how it feels. At the very least, the clouds and the sky suggest airiness. And I do like the cleanness of the design. I haven't decided whether I like the lighthouse or not, and the title font may need some work, but for now, this will have to do. Maybe one of these days, I'll actually learn CSS and design my own blog template.

P.S. If you are new to this blog, this is what it used to look like:
I have to admit, the flower bullet points were fortuitously apropos for the Pushing Daisies quotes. (Click on image to see enlarged version; flower bullet point will be clear.) Still, I didn't feel that the cute dingbat bullets justified keeping the whole template.

A Bouquet of Daisies

Due to the Country Music Awards, I wasn't able to get my weekly fix of Pushing Daisies tonight. So, I thought I'd relive the show's finest verbal moments by listing some of my favorite quotes thus far. A bouquet of Daisies quotes, if you will. (No, I do not have a photographic memory. Yes, I am enough of a geek that I re-watched the episodes online to jot down quotes. But, to be fair, I also re-watched the episodes simply to enjoy them.) Anyway, here goes.

1. Emerson: Words that sound alike get mixed up in my head.
   Olive: Me too. I used to think masturbation meant chewing your food. (pause) I don’t think that anymore.
2. Chuck: I'd kiss you if it wouldn't kill me.
3. Narrator: In fact, Emerson Cod had finished knitting a sweater vest and two handgun cozies in the week since Chuck's return.
4. Olive: This isn't Pies 'R Us, Pie City, or Thousands of Pies in One Place. This is a bells-on-the-door, pies-baking, mom-and-pop place. We chit-chat here. Chit!
5. Ned: What's so great about knowing? When you lift up a rock, do you find whipped cream? No, you find worms. I say no to knowing.
6. Chuck: You love secrets. You want to marry secrets and have little half-secret half-human babies.
7. Mark Chase: The Dandy Lion car is the culmination of my life's work. It's a flower-powered phenomenon born of a thousand sleepless nights, intense Ritalin abuse, and a long sublimated interest in botany. So what if in the unlikely but not impossible event that the car gets up to a speed of 70 miles an hour, with the headlights on, and the seat warmer on low, a short circuit in the radio causes a cataclysmic chain reaction that blows the car and its precious human cargo to smithereens?
8. Narrator: Emerson Cod did not like to knit in public, but he often left the house with the needles in his pocket should an opportunity to rib-stitch a ski cap present itself.
9. Chuck: Remember, mind over matter makes Pooh un-fatter.
   Emerson: I may be stuck, but I can still reach my gun.
10. Chuck: Kick, Pooh, kick!
11. Wilford Woodruff: I think you should know that I was thrice named alternate sword master at the southern area regional volunteer infantry reenactment regiment.
    Ned: I wanted to be a Jedi.
12. Ned: I'm gonna see if I've got some plastic wrap.
13. Emerson: Is that a dead bird? Why are you holding a dead bird? Throw that away. It's swimming with disease, and you serve food!
14. Emerson: What is the rate of exchange on the life of a bird? Because if it's equal to or greater than mine, I need to get back to my car.
15. Ned: It's raining dead birds!
16. Emerson: Because Big Daddy needs some new yarn.
17. Ned: He's not Conrad; he's the hijacker. And he's going to the bathroom in my kitchen!
    Chuck: Boy, you miss one trip to the morgue.
18. Ned: Good news is you're not blind. Bad news is you're dead.
19. Ned: Why did they send it to Nam? Do the Vietnamese need windmills?
    Chuck: NARM--National Area of Retired Mills.
20. Elsita: Oh no, you didn't use bows to tie me up, did you? You take a hostage like you tie your sneakers!
21. Olive: Ned hates Halloween, you know. Makes him moodier than a pumpkin full of PMS.
22. Ned: They put a bomb in your daybed?
23. Emerson: His goat killed you?
24. Olive: Sweet Secretariat.
    Emerson: That don't look like John Joseph.
    Olive: A horse with no name.
    Emerson: Or legs.
    (shudder)
25. Chuck (to Digby): You know what we are? We're the walking dead on Halloween.
26. Chuck: First of all, huh? And secondly, Olive thinks that I faked my death, which is completely different to knowing that I'm dead.
    Emerson: Yeah, different like purple and mauve.
27. Mama Jacobs: Well, you wouldn't need all that bait if your belly were full of fish, dear.
28. Vivian (about weekly pies): I don't know how we survived without it. It's like a sex addiction. I would imagine.
29. Chuck: What if he changes when his blood sugar level drops?
    Olive: Like a hypoglycemic werewolf!
30. Olive: Tell Ned I love . . . his pies.
31. Emerson: I love you, shovel!
32. (doorbell)
    Vivian: Is that clock right? It's two o'clock in the a.m.!
    Lily: I'll get my gun.
    Vivian: And I'll get the candy bowl.

Mmmm.... Ratatouille...

Since the Ratatouille DVD was released today, I will take this opportunity to extol this little gem of a film. Only Pixar can take an animal so traditionally reviled and make it not only cute and sympathetic, but get away with placing said critter in a restaurant kitchen!
The movie has heart, humor, and the usual Pixar standard of amazing visuals. The scenes of Paris are breathtakingly gorgeous; they made me ache for a return to the magical City of Light. And the food, which rivaled the culinary masterpieces one might see on the Food Network, actually made me hungry. (Never mind that the dishes were being prepared by a rat.) As for the characters, they are rendered with such detail that I swear you can see every hair on Remy's furry little body.
This feel-good movie brimming with artistry and laugh-out-loud moments will have you cheering for its unlikely but lovable hero. I think I'm going to go to amazon and order it right now...

It's an Existentialist World, Charlie Brown

As part of the office festivities for Halloween yesterday, we participated in a trivia quiz while consuming pizza and various spooky potluck concoctions. The first question on the quiz was:

Every Halloween, Charlie Brown helps his friend Linus wait for what character to appear?
a. The Grinch | b. The Great Pumpkin | c. Godot |
d. Pigpen

I found the concept of Peanuts characters waiting for Godot hilarious. Considering that the content of Charles Schulz's comics was often quite deep, ironic, and satiric, perhaps the connection is not such a stretch. Tickled by this idea, I was moved to Photoshop a couple of images to illustrate a Peanuts take on existentialism.

As part of my research for this mini-project, I went to trusty ol' wikipedia to refresh my memory of Beckett and "Waiting for Godot." (I don't know what I ever did without wikipedia before!) There, I found out that one of two possible paintings by Caspar David Friedrich inspired Beckett to write the play: Man and Woman Contemplating the Moon or Two Men Contemplating the Moon. This composite of Friedrich's painting and Linus and Sally in the pumpkin patch is my tongue-in-cheek homage to both Beckett and Schulz. (By the way, Caspar David Friedrich's oeuvre includes some wonderfully atmospheric and sublime paintings.)

Thus, another Halloween has come and gone, and we find ourselves suddenly in the month of November. And even though neither the Great Pumpkin nor Godot has shown up, we find laughter and friendship and thought and creative expression as we continue to mark our time on this earth, and it is enough.