panic at the disco in my kitchen

New Year's Eve is coming up, and it is the biggest holiday of the year for former Soviet citizens. In deference to atheistic Communism, they took all the trappings of Christmas and moved them to New Year's. You've got your gift giving, your "New Year's" tree, your feast, your in-door sparklers....yes, in-door. Don't you too usually light sparklers inside? Mix that with a confined space and their typical vodka drinking ways and all I can say is, "Fire hazard, fire shmazard!"

This year we have several Uzbek friends joining us and as I try to decide what to cook, I feel that old feeling of stage fright creeping up on me. It was a feeling quite common to me when we lived in Uzbekistan. I always felt, rightly or wrongly, that my worth as a human being was being judged based on how well I cooked dinner. Which was not always very well! In the early days of our marriage, I remember serving up a not particularly well received breakfast to DH's family. Back then, I thought that when making boiled eggs, the point was to boil them for as long as possible. (I was scared of salmonella, ok?) That idea went for potatoes and pretty much anything else boiled as well. I was not particularly well trained in the culinary arts and had to learn on the fly (thanks Mom!) In addition to trying to learn to cook with only the help of Betty Crocker's Cookbook, I was also hobbled by not having access to a grocery store, being somewhat afraid of turning on the gas stove top, being very very afraid of turning on the oven, and by basically thinking that cooking was a lot harder than it really is. So that particular breakfast, with the overcooked eggs, was greeted with a less than enthusiastic response and a pointed question, "Why did you get married if you can't even boil an egg?" ouch.

Thankfully, my belief that anything can be learned from a book turned out ok this time, and my cooking skills and self-assurance have improved with time. Not only that, but my relationship with DH's family also took a drastic turn for the better. But still, when it comes to cooking for other Uzbeks, my old lack of confidence peeks around the corner. Sure, I think the Uzbek dishes I make are good, but I don't know how they seem to people who grew up with them. What if my version of osh seems as far off base as the pizza I ordered in Kiev that was topped with ketchup, mayonnaise and corn?






Wish me luck! And if you don't have anything else to do, come eat with us on New Year's eve. At least I know you won't be able to tell whether my finished dishes are authentic versions or not.

best of 09 catch up

Best Workshop or Conference- I went to a very helpful workshop on teaching reading to adults. As a teacher, this is the area that I struggle with the most. We have very limited time with our adult students, and I find that I tend to skip over reading, thinking that they can do it on their own time. The workshop given by Heide Wrigley helped me with some new ideas and also, just to better understand the need for classroom instruction in this area.

Album of the Year- hmm...well, I used to be very concerned with music, constantly scouring music magazines and pouring over the bins at CD Warehouse, but, getting married, having no money, living in Uzbekistan, having kids....it "cured" me of that particular obsession. All that to say, my finger is not on the pulse anymore. This year I listened to plenty of different things, but I actually only bought one CD and it was Taylor Swift's "Fearless." I love her music, pop hooks, first love kinda lyrics and I think...*mic grab------"I'mma let you finish but (insert your fave here) had the best album of the decade!*

Best Change you made to the place you live- I moved! Yay! No more meth labs, no more pit bulls running around unleashed, no more downstairs neighbors shouting profanely through the night. No more bumping into the walls in my teeny tiny kitchen. No more 3rd floor breezeways that look like they may detach from the building any moment. Yay for our own house!

Thanks for your attention. Good day!

I'm looking through you....ikra.

This morning I sat down and enjoyed a bowl of ikra for breakfast. (or stood by the microwave and devoured it, same diff) Ikra means "caviar" in Russian, but this is actually a spread made from eggplant and other vegetables. I learned how to make it from my first neighbor/slum lord in Tashkent. Standing here, eating that, it was amazing how I found myself transported back to that first year in Tashkent, (ikra = time machine in a bowl?)

We had been living in a 1 bedroom student apartment (which translates into unfurnishedexceptforTVthatonlyplaysUzbekculturaldancingalldaylong) in Tashkent with DH's cousin for a couple of months upon arrival, waiting for DH to get a job placement. It was an age of innocence. I was enjoying the adventure, and very sheltered from the realities of life in Uzbekistan, fresh off the boat (plane, whatever, you know what I mean) When we found our first apartment, our very own, I didn't care or even notice that we were paying $25 a month for a place that should have been condemned. (Literally, since as we later found out the building had been built upon an old landfill and was unstable) That $25 rent was more than DH's salary at the time, but I also had some small income coming in from teaching.

Our bedroom contained a twin bed and an armoire and was so small that we could only open the door of the armoire half way before it intersected with the bed and wouldn't open further. Our nights consisted of sleeping back to back, trying not to push the other person onto the floor. Our kitchen had no cabinets or counters, but a big old desk worked as an improvised counter top/workspace, and we also had a little 2 burner camp stove. When we moved in, the whole place was covered in what I was told later was roach feces. Ah, yes, but it was home, and ours. We were proud.

Tytya "Aunt" Alla was our landlady and next door neighbor. She was a middle-aged, unmarried woman; an ethnic Korean whose family was deported to Uzbekistan during the time of Stalin. She was God-sent to me. After DH started his job, he was kept out till 9 or 10 most evenings. I knew little language and very few people in Tashkent. I can't remember now how I spent my time, I had already started teaching at that time, but it was part-time. I had also by then discovered an English library which I considered a gift from on high. But, in moments of loneliness, Tytya Alla was always there and ready to talk (and talk and talk and talk), the only thing I had to do was nod occassionally and say "da", which was good because my Russian at that time was only good enough to say "Where is toilet?" and "How much? Give 1 kilo please"

Koreans in Uzbekistan are known for their salads and canning abilities, and so it was from Tytya Alla that I learned to make ikra and DH learned to can homemade pickles, for which he is now famous throughout Central Asia. The paper on which the recipe is written is speckled with oil, crumpled and dirty, but a treasured possession. Here for posterity I'll share it with you!

Ikra:
salt
carrots 1 lb
onion 2 BIG ones
eggplant 3 lbs or 2 big ones
cilantro if desired
garlic 4 or 5 pieces
oil 1 1/2 cups
tomato 1/2 lb
red bell pepper 2 pieces
jalapeno 2 or 3

Cut everything up into small to medium sized cubes. Heat the oil in a heavy pot like a dutch oven and fry the onions till brown. (About 15 minutes)

Add the carrots and salt to taste and fry for about 7 minutes.

Add the tomatoes, bell pepper, and eggplant, stirring occasionally and left uncovered. You can also add the jalapeno, garlic, and cilantro if using at this time. Keep the flame up at medium. Allow to cook for at least 45 minutes.

The finished product is usually canned, but you can also eat it right away. Yum!

Redacted

The in-house censor takes some of the fun out of blogging. Ah, the joys of paranoia are many.

A Day in the Life

"well I just had to laugh"
mid-night bathroom break for baby boy. DH gets up to help him, but he screams for Mommy! Apparently I've got the secret touch when it comes to sitting him on the toilet. I wish I could hand off that distinction. And somehow, when he needs a drink, again, only I am worthy of getting it. grr....

"Woke up, fell out of bed"
wake up. stumble around like a zombie looking for the coffee pot. "Aka, hurry, come on, hurry, we're late for school!" The boy runs everywhere, but tell him to hurry and he turns into molasses.

"and looking up, I noticed I was late"
Drop off Aka, hurry to training day. A bunch of old ladies and me. Is my profession just for old ladies? Am I an old lady and don't realize it?

lunch break at Indian restaurant. Yummy, but old ladies followed me....umm....I planted my nose in a book and pretended not to see them. harsh.

more training, then hurry home and DH asks *me* what's for dinner? Huh? Um, you tell me darling.

"but I just had to look"
In attempt to get into the Christmas spirit, herd the family to living nativity despite protests. "I'm hungry...it's too cold..." (no, that wasn't the kids, it was DH again!) Arrive at nativity, taken in 5 minutes of goats, sheep, and rain and decide to hit the road.

Quick trip to HEB to get lights for tree (only thing we don't buy!) and then home to watch a movie.

And now you know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall.

Qwerty

Here are some words I like:

Verdant

Splendiferous

mercy

Bonus

sustainable

cosmopolitan

Sincere

grace

breezy

spring

wildflowers

miracle

Cozy

emerald

monster trucks

Ok, you can scratch that last one.

Blog shout-out

Gwen Bells best of '09 challenge continues, and here is my next attempt at sporadic participation. Today's asks about the best blog you've found this year.

*internal dialouge* Hmm...should I say mine or is that too obvious? What, oh, you heard that? Oops..

Ok no. Well, there are many great blogs out there but the ones that bring me back consistently are few. Not because of a lack on their part, but because I have 2 kids, 2 jobs, and a reading list a mile long already. I'm busy ok!

One favorite that I'd like to mention is The Non-Consumer Advocate. Katy discusses all aspects of living under The Compact. Simple and frugal living, green ideas, and money management are just a few of the topics she covers. Although I don't particapte officially in the Compact, the ideas behind it have definitely influenced me in my own spending habits and turned me into a Goodwill addict. I heartily agree with Katy's adage, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without."

Check it out and let me know what blogs you can't miss.