I saw this written on the hand rail of the escalator
at the V train station at 53rd Street.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Conquering Lion Yoga
Today I woke up in time to make the 10am yoga class at Bend and Bloom Yoga. Having never taken this class before, I was not sure what to expect, nor did I even know who the teacher was. Thankfully, I have moved beyond the potential anxiety that these unknowns can cause me. My excitement for my day's practice only increased when I saw the teacher walk in with her harmonium — I love the harmonium, or any live music during yoga class, for that matter. In addition, the teacher had the longest, thickest blond dreadlocks that I have ever seen; which only added to the intrigue of the class. She started the class with about 30 minutes of chanting. A few years ago, this would have sort of made me a little uncomfortable, striking me as a little too pseudo-spiritually-yoga-y. But I am now in a place where the sound of the harmonium was so haunting and deeply connecting for me, that I actually cried. Which mean I guess I am finally understanding the whole point of yoga.
Beyond the harmonium and the great hair, the teacher was amazing, although very unlike any other teacher that I have had. Perhaps because at one point during class, she suggested that we clench the walls of our vaginas, and hold it for the rest of the day...or something along those lines. And the one guy in class was instructed to clench "that spot between your anus and your genitals."
So I came home and looked her up online, only because I wanted to take another class with her in the future, and found that she trained under the Conquering Lion Vinyasa style of yoga (whose mantra is "Yoga is the process of stopping the mind from turning things the wrong way around,") which I had never heard of, but which somehow then all made sense given the seriousness of her dreadlocks, which I equated somehow, with the Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah and all. Perhaps it is all a little too weird sounding, like some sort of reggae meets yoga mix-up, but all in all, made for an beautiful way to start a very lovely Sunday morning.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
I ♥ Ramen
Last week, NPR asked listeners to send in ramen noodle stories. And the noodle stories flooded in — those cheap little packages of instant noodles with the silver foil flavor packets served up a big bowl of nostalgia. Here are a few of them:
Ben Williams
Austin, Texas
I was visiting an out-of-town friend and he began boiling up a pot of ramen on the stove while we were catching up. He then went on to plug in the waffle maker which I assumed was for something unrelated. I was taken completely by surprise when he mixed the cooked ramen noodles with sesame oil and dropped them on the heated waffle iron. They sizzled for a while and when he deemed they were done he took the "waffle," cut it in half, plated the halves and poured maple syrup and sesame seeds on each piece, offering me one. The most surprising part ... it was actually kind of good. Much like a pan-fried noodle. But I think it would have gone better under a nice stir-fry. It occurs to me I now have a waffle maker of my own. Perhaps I'll give it a try.
Beth White
Orono, Maine
While teaching middle school in the mid '80s, I had a definitely memorable experience with ramen. For some reason, at least in our school, ramen became a popular snack for sixth-graders to bring to school. I think instant ramen hadn't been around too long and the kids loved the idea of eating it fresh out of the bag, crunchy and uncooked. They would also open the seasoning packet and pour some of that into their mouths along with the crunchy ramen.
Well, it drove the teachers crazy! Here are the reasons: First, they were eating it dry so they would be thirsty for hours afterward as the noodles swelled in their stomachs; and second — and maybe the worst thing about it — they ended up with terribly bad breath from eating the seasoning packets without water. We teachers, along with other students, got the brunt of the bad breath. So even though there were far worse snacks nutritionally than noodles, we finally had to ban ramen as a snack! Who would think it would come to that!
Natalie McQueen
Sunnyvale, Colo.
When my husband was in college, he ate a lot of ramen. He wanted to stretch the meal, so he would add things to the ramen such as frozen veggies or chili. The chili/ramen dish became a staple of his diet until the chili started giving him excessive gas. To keep peace with his roommates he switched to Dinty Moore Beef Stew, and Stoodles was born.
Stoodles in our house is an event. We empty the stew into a bowl and heat it in the microwave. After crushing the ramen in the bag, we open it, throw out the flavor packet and put the crushed noodles into the now empty stew can. We pour boiling water over the noodles and let them cook while the stew heats up. Then the noodles are drained and stirred into the stew, becoming Stoodles.
This is my family's favorite meal. When I ask what they want for their birthday meal this is what they ask for. It's a special treat because I don't buy the Dinty Moore Stew very often and I would like to keep it that way because it's so darn easy.
Tom Ciaglo
Louisville, Colo.
My own favorite experience with ramen began when my teenage son, out fishing with a group of family and friends near our cabin, called to ask me if he could bring home a trout he caught but unintentionally killed at a nearby lake, which happened to be a catch-and-release-only lake. The all-teenage group on the other end of the phone clearly wanted to show off and eat their catch. I said sure, but I knew we had nothing in our meager stores at the time (no flour, no breadcrumbs, etc.) to use to prepare the fish. When they got home we decided to have some fun to see how creative we could be with what we had to prepare a batter. I pulled out a couple of packets of ramen (those that had not been nibbled on by the mice), opened one, and after fashioning a mortar and pestle with available utensils, began to grind the noodles into a flour, or I should say into a chunky flourlike compound. I had some bad beer so we added a little of that to make it pasty enough to stick on the fish, and oh yeah, the flavor packets (chicken flavor I believe), we of course had to throw that in too for the proper seasoning. We dipped the rainbow fillets in the homemade batter, grilled them, and they were delicious! Even the doubters I think were impressed. Ramen: the duct tape of fast food.
Danielle Webster
Fargo, N.D.
I love ramen burritos! I made them a lot when I was in college. My favorite flavor was chicken, but vegetable was good. I'd prepare the ramen like the package says, then mix in a little bit of garlic, sour cream and soy sauce, and wrap it all up in a warm flour tortilla. Initially those things were all random items from in my kitchen when I hadn't been to the grocery store in a while, but I found myself eating that concoction rather regularly for a while!
Melissa Brown
Prescott, Ariz.
After listening to the piece about ramen noodles, I had to share my memories with you. I was a "starving" flight attendant in my youth, and a fellow flight attendant taught me how to make a tuna casserole with ramen noodles ... in flight. In the early days, there were no ovens on our aircraft and after a long (12-14 hours) day we often had no access to a hot meal. My friend, Melody Evans, showed me how to take ramen noodles, hot water, tuna and mayo packets and create a warm delicious meal. We could also add canned veggies. All the ingredients could easily be carried around for days, if not weeks, without spoiling. This recipe was a lifesaver for me and on more than one occasion I was the recipient of envious looks as I ate my green chili and corn tuna casserole huddled in the back galley!
Nancy Winrich
Townshed, Vt.
In college, and then even to this day, I boil the noodles then set aside, and then melt Velveeta cheese and add milk until smooth, then I add Worcestershire sauce. Adding this to the noodles, it makes a noodle Welsh Rarebit. My husband likes to add the beef broth packet to the noodles then strains it off except for a few teaspoons to add to his cheese sauce.
Joe Hughes
Philadelphia
I lived in Tokyo and can't describe how good the ramen there is and how much I miss it here, since the only restaurant that made it in Philly has closed. I like to make kimchi ramen. I buy fresh kimchi from the Korean supermarket and a product called kimchi moto or kimchi base (although it is not in fact used in making kimchi). I break an egg into the boiling water along with the noodles and add the kimchi base to the regular "Oriental" ramen flavor packet in the bowl. Place the fresh kimchi, a little pork or ham, and some scallions on top when it's done. It comes out pretty close to what I used to get in Japan.
Craig Marckwardt
Dallas
It was gratifying to hear David Chang confirm for me that the pronunciation of the dish is "rahm-yen" as I learned it in Korea in 1967-68. At 50 won per package (about 7 cents back then) ramen was a staple. We could cook it in a canteen cup on the kerosene-fired space heater in the barracks or dispensary when it was way too cold near the Korean demilitarized zone to walk to the mess hall. Pop in an egg or a big spoonful of peanut butter from one's mess hall "procurements." Properly done, doctored ramen nearly always beat whatever mostly unidentifiable culinary delight was on the camp's lunch menu.
Nathan White
San Luis Obispo, Calif.
I don't think that I would've afforded to have made it through college if it weren't for ramen noodles. I would buy them in something like 24-packs, for about 10 cents per pack. As a soup, I would typically just add soy sauce. Another way of preparing them was to drain them and add Italian salad dressing. I have also used them dry and crushed them for Chinese chicken salad, but that was only after college when I could afford the rest of the ingredients of Chinese chicken salad, including chicken and mandarin oranges. But to this day (perhaps unfortunately), I cannot eat ramen. As a result of college, it was just too much ramen, sort of like how I can't drink tequila anymore.
Keiv Spare
Lawrence, Kan.
My dad would cook ramen noodles for my brother and sister and me. We called the meal "roman numerals." My dad would mix the noodles with a can of mixed vegetable soup. We thought it was a delicacy.
Ben Williams
Austin, Texas
I was visiting an out-of-town friend and he began boiling up a pot of ramen on the stove while we were catching up. He then went on to plug in the waffle maker which I assumed was for something unrelated. I was taken completely by surprise when he mixed the cooked ramen noodles with sesame oil and dropped them on the heated waffle iron. They sizzled for a while and when he deemed they were done he took the "waffle," cut it in half, plated the halves and poured maple syrup and sesame seeds on each piece, offering me one. The most surprising part ... it was actually kind of good. Much like a pan-fried noodle. But I think it would have gone better under a nice stir-fry. It occurs to me I now have a waffle maker of my own. Perhaps I'll give it a try.
Beth White
Orono, Maine
While teaching middle school in the mid '80s, I had a definitely memorable experience with ramen. For some reason, at least in our school, ramen became a popular snack for sixth-graders to bring to school. I think instant ramen hadn't been around too long and the kids loved the idea of eating it fresh out of the bag, crunchy and uncooked. They would also open the seasoning packet and pour some of that into their mouths along with the crunchy ramen.
Well, it drove the teachers crazy! Here are the reasons: First, they were eating it dry so they would be thirsty for hours afterward as the noodles swelled in their stomachs; and second — and maybe the worst thing about it — they ended up with terribly bad breath from eating the seasoning packets without water. We teachers, along with other students, got the brunt of the bad breath. So even though there were far worse snacks nutritionally than noodles, we finally had to ban ramen as a snack! Who would think it would come to that!
Natalie McQueen
Sunnyvale, Colo.
When my husband was in college, he ate a lot of ramen. He wanted to stretch the meal, so he would add things to the ramen such as frozen veggies or chili. The chili/ramen dish became a staple of his diet until the chili started giving him excessive gas. To keep peace with his roommates he switched to Dinty Moore Beef Stew, and Stoodles was born.
Stoodles in our house is an event. We empty the stew into a bowl and heat it in the microwave. After crushing the ramen in the bag, we open it, throw out the flavor packet and put the crushed noodles into the now empty stew can. We pour boiling water over the noodles and let them cook while the stew heats up. Then the noodles are drained and stirred into the stew, becoming Stoodles.
This is my family's favorite meal. When I ask what they want for their birthday meal this is what they ask for. It's a special treat because I don't buy the Dinty Moore Stew very often and I would like to keep it that way because it's so darn easy.
Tom Ciaglo
Louisville, Colo.
My own favorite experience with ramen began when my teenage son, out fishing with a group of family and friends near our cabin, called to ask me if he could bring home a trout he caught but unintentionally killed at a nearby lake, which happened to be a catch-and-release-only lake. The all-teenage group on the other end of the phone clearly wanted to show off and eat their catch. I said sure, but I knew we had nothing in our meager stores at the time (no flour, no breadcrumbs, etc.) to use to prepare the fish. When they got home we decided to have some fun to see how creative we could be with what we had to prepare a batter. I pulled out a couple of packets of ramen (those that had not been nibbled on by the mice), opened one, and after fashioning a mortar and pestle with available utensils, began to grind the noodles into a flour, or I should say into a chunky flourlike compound. I had some bad beer so we added a little of that to make it pasty enough to stick on the fish, and oh yeah, the flavor packets (chicken flavor I believe), we of course had to throw that in too for the proper seasoning. We dipped the rainbow fillets in the homemade batter, grilled them, and they were delicious! Even the doubters I think were impressed. Ramen: the duct tape of fast food.
Danielle Webster
Fargo, N.D.
I love ramen burritos! I made them a lot when I was in college. My favorite flavor was chicken, but vegetable was good. I'd prepare the ramen like the package says, then mix in a little bit of garlic, sour cream and soy sauce, and wrap it all up in a warm flour tortilla. Initially those things were all random items from in my kitchen when I hadn't been to the grocery store in a while, but I found myself eating that concoction rather regularly for a while!
Melissa Brown
Prescott, Ariz.
After listening to the piece about ramen noodles, I had to share my memories with you. I was a "starving" flight attendant in my youth, and a fellow flight attendant taught me how to make a tuna casserole with ramen noodles ... in flight. In the early days, there were no ovens on our aircraft and after a long (12-14 hours) day we often had no access to a hot meal. My friend, Melody Evans, showed me how to take ramen noodles, hot water, tuna and mayo packets and create a warm delicious meal. We could also add canned veggies. All the ingredients could easily be carried around for days, if not weeks, without spoiling. This recipe was a lifesaver for me and on more than one occasion I was the recipient of envious looks as I ate my green chili and corn tuna casserole huddled in the back galley!
Nancy Winrich
Townshed, Vt.
In college, and then even to this day, I boil the noodles then set aside, and then melt Velveeta cheese and add milk until smooth, then I add Worcestershire sauce. Adding this to the noodles, it makes a noodle Welsh Rarebit. My husband likes to add the beef broth packet to the noodles then strains it off except for a few teaspoons to add to his cheese sauce.
Joe Hughes
Philadelphia
I lived in Tokyo and can't describe how good the ramen there is and how much I miss it here, since the only restaurant that made it in Philly has closed. I like to make kimchi ramen. I buy fresh kimchi from the Korean supermarket and a product called kimchi moto or kimchi base (although it is not in fact used in making kimchi). I break an egg into the boiling water along with the noodles and add the kimchi base to the regular "Oriental" ramen flavor packet in the bowl. Place the fresh kimchi, a little pork or ham, and some scallions on top when it's done. It comes out pretty close to what I used to get in Japan.
Craig Marckwardt
Dallas
It was gratifying to hear David Chang confirm for me that the pronunciation of the dish is "rahm-yen" as I learned it in Korea in 1967-68. At 50 won per package (about 7 cents back then) ramen was a staple. We could cook it in a canteen cup on the kerosene-fired space heater in the barracks or dispensary when it was way too cold near the Korean demilitarized zone to walk to the mess hall. Pop in an egg or a big spoonful of peanut butter from one's mess hall "procurements." Properly done, doctored ramen nearly always beat whatever mostly unidentifiable culinary delight was on the camp's lunch menu.
Nathan White
San Luis Obispo, Calif.
I don't think that I would've afforded to have made it through college if it weren't for ramen noodles. I would buy them in something like 24-packs, for about 10 cents per pack. As a soup, I would typically just add soy sauce. Another way of preparing them was to drain them and add Italian salad dressing. I have also used them dry and crushed them for Chinese chicken salad, but that was only after college when I could afford the rest of the ingredients of Chinese chicken salad, including chicken and mandarin oranges. But to this day (perhaps unfortunately), I cannot eat ramen. As a result of college, it was just too much ramen, sort of like how I can't drink tequila anymore.
Keiv Spare
Lawrence, Kan.
My dad would cook ramen noodles for my brother and sister and me. We called the meal "roman numerals." My dad would mix the noodles with a can of mixed vegetable soup. We thought it was a delicacy.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Praying in the bathroom
Just now, I got up to go the bathroom, one last time before boarding my flight. And the passage way was crammed full of Hasidic Jews, praying before the boarded. (I guess we all have our pre-flight comfort rituals.) Their fur hats were wedged tightly in one another and it was a nice sound to hear, the murmuring of their prayers. But then on the plane, the whole business class cabin seemed to be all Hasidim. And at one point, at least ten crammed into the galley to pray, and as they solemnly walked back to their seats using both aisles, it was suddenly like it was a plane full of fur hats and Stetson-y hats. With the lights dimmed low, it was even a bit spooky, as they were striding with such purpose, with their prayer shawls fluttering around. I was like, wow, how weird would it be to be on a flight HIJACKED by Hasidim...on the way to Germany?!
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Thursday, November 05, 2009
People Movies by Lenka Clayton + James Price
A series of 4 short films that arrange 471 people from around Britain according to 4 scales. 1. Age. A person of every age between 1 and 100. 2. Birth. 34 women from 4 to 41 weeks pregnant. 3. Love. 48 couples arranged by length of their relationship (in descending order). 4. Home. 73 households in descending order of yearly income (£400,000 - £3,240)
The concept behind our films was simple: we asked ourselves if you can reveal something about life by simply arranging people according to scales. Three minutes is a very short time to communicate something - too short to tell a story, or to get to know a character - so we wanted to make this series by setting ourselves some very straightforward rules, and then following them through over a long trip. The rules had to be simple so it would take the audience virtually no time to understand them. We established what scales we'd look at, and then chose how each film would be framed. Then it was a case of getting in a camper van and driving round Britain, filming as many people as we could over 4 weeks in February, coping with microphones crackling and cameras refusing to work. The experience was exhausting but also life affirming. In our whole trip we were struck by how happy people were to help. Only a handful of our shoots were arranged in advance. We relied instead on the kindness of strangers - and we found that everywhere, from deprived urban estates to rural aristocrats. The resulting films are like a list of government statistics where the citizens they are referring to have broken out from behind the figures on the page. The people on the screen stop us from seeing them as numbers. Even in single second bursts there are worlds of personality stretching out in front of us. The films are really about our awe at how big life is, infinite in its variety, even when it seems just normal to each of us living it. We are planning to make a feature length version of the age film - without a drum, set over a day - please contact us if you'd be interested in helping with the funding of this project.-Written by James Price & Lenka Clayton
Laat kindern leren.
Christian Borstlap's amazingly cute stamps for the Dutch charity, Kinderpostzegels, feature the theme of "Let Children Learn." Paul Postma animated the illustrations in the most delightful manner...just simply watching the video totally made the most dreadful day into something much nicer.Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Wood foodstuff
miso + rice, anyone?
I ♥ these two toy food play sets (which I saw on Spoon + Tamago) from Sasaki Kogei, a company apparently known for its sustainability and tree planting efforts. Hand crafted from maple and walnut, they are not that cheap — the breakfast set is $178, and the miso soup alone costs almost ¥1700, which is around $18 or so — but they are so super lovely.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Slow + steady, said the Turtle.
Lara and I went to the Museum of Natural History, to hear Al Gore speak about his new book. As per my usual behavior at anything in a fancy-looking hall, I was sort of falling asleep in the beginning — which was not a reflection on the lecture, but rather a reflection on my need for a nap. But there was a point where I finally regained composure and snapped to attention (perhaps, because of crunching two mint TicTacs), and it was when when Al Gore mentioned the above proverb. I found it to resonate with me rather deeply...both in tactical scenarios, and also with regards to my overall perspective of life. I would much rather go far [in life] and fully experience every thing I can to the utmost, together with loved ones; then speed through life just so I can get to the next thing and the next thing and then the next thing, without having anyone to enjoy it with when I get there. There is nothing worse than arriving at an amazing place, and then looking around and realizing that you left everyone behind, in order to get there.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
I heart the new Alice Tully Hall
Romulo and I went to go see the Mozarteum Salzburg Orchestra this afternoon, at the new Alice Tully Hall in Lincoln Center. The hall was designed/renovated by Diller Scofidio + Renfro, one of my most favorite architectural firms, because of their specific perspective of minimalism with exquisite attention to the most important details. The interior is clad in a thin veneer of moabi, an African hardwood and the balcony wraps around the back half of the hall, with fins that are truly evocative of Raymond Loewy, if he were to channel Apple's design aesthetic. Despite sitting in row V, our seats were incredible. Because of the design of the new concert hall, you felt like you had the best seat in the house, where ever you were sitting.
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