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October 26, 2004

:: two in one day? surely not! ::

I know you've all been agonizing over what to buy me for Christmas this year. Despite last year's winning Inappropriate Christmas Ornament (lovingly entitled And what do YOU want for Christmas, little girl?), what I'm after is not obscene pipe cleaner art. What I'm after is this. I need one. Surely everyone can see that. I'll bedazzle you an eye patch! I'll bedazzle the back pocket of your favorite jeans! Or I'll promise not to, how's that? Whatever it takes. Please, people. Please?

:: for lack of a better title ::

Oh dear, I just can't seem to keep up with this thing. It occurs to me that this is not so much because my activity level is high as that I can't seem to keep my brain focused on a single task (even one so trivial as posting nonsense to my House of Self-Indulgence) for more than 15 minutes. So I'd better type fast.

Actually, quite a lot's been going on. Two weekends ago, I attended the spectacular Big Gay Wedding of my dear friends Greg and David, in Memphis. Now, when I tell people this, they're initially unsurprised to hear that I was in a gay wedding - but then, when I get to the part about it having taken place in Memphis, a look of bewilderment comes across their dear faces. Memphis? Surely not. I mean, if San Fran couldn't keep gay unions legal, how is it possible that this should come about in the borderline baptist belt, yea, so close to the snake-handling counties of Arkansas? Much as I hate to disappoint, the marriage is not in fact legal, but when have we cared about the legality of our actions, anyway? It was a beautiful ceremony, presided over by the inimitable and lovely organic farmer/fairy/hippie preacher Larry Leonard (whose ripe green tomatoes are a delectable treat, should you ever find yourself down his way), attended by scores of friends and family, a reunion of folk who hadn't seen one another in over a decade and a festival of bubbly-consumption worthy of the coming together of a new and improved circle of friends and relatives. I had a fabulous time, and while I am tempted to promise photos in the near future, we all know how awful I am about that (I can't even seem to fix the stylesheets in the gallery, for crying out loud), I won't get your hopes up. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Since I've been back, it's been a whirlwind of social and cultural activity - between dinners and outings with friends, I managed to have the fullest day of theatrical experiences I've had since college. Last Wednesday afternoon, a friend and I attended a dress rehearsal of Aïda at the Lyric. Just under four hours and an execution/suicide later, we emerged blinking into the twilight, in dire need of a drink. We had just enough time for a few quick ones with good old Pat at Nick & Tony's before another friend came to fetch me for the evening's production: Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf at the Court Theatre. Now, this is not what anyone would call a feel-good show - in fact, it's more or less witnessing a three and a half hour act of psychological terrorism. But I'm here to tell you, it was amazing. Utterly worth it. I said that evening, and have maintained since, that it is the single best production I've seen in ten years in Chicago. Huge kudos to the cast and crew and director, and also high praise to the scene design. I am almost tempted to rattle on about it at length the way I normally do about productions that I love, but you might leave me and never come back. Perhaps I'll revisit this at some point - my only regret is that I didn't get a review up early enough to encourage everyone in town to see the show: it closed on Sunday.

Friday saw another charmed dinner party at my house. Yes, I'm trying to cram in as many intimate gatherings as I possibly can before I quit the country, and even though from time to time I look around the room and get all misty, they are always such a splendid time. The menu for this one was Spicy Corn Chowder, followed by Chili-Lime Marinated Pork Tenderloin and Lime-Cayenne infused Shrimp on a bed of Cheddar/Chipotle Mashed Potato, with French Green Beans and a few cherry tomatoes for color. For dessert, one guest supplied fresh strawberries with a brown sugar-sour cream dip, and another gallantly arrived hours early to bake a wonderful apple pie. Yea verily, we were well-fed. Well-boozed, too, but that's another story. I've still got a can of wine (!) in my fridge if anybody's interested.

So what have I got that's amusing and witty and clever? It shames me to say that I'm coming up snake eyes today, folks. Perhaps this evening's outing to the north side will supply me with some comic relief, or at least some regrettable fashion, to share with you, but for now you'll just have to make due with the facts.

At least I've written something. My guilt is partially assuaged.

Oh yeah, and if Bush wins next Tuesday, I'm leaving the country. Wait a minute... Well, ok. But vote anyway, would you?

October 11, 2004

:: hurry up and wait ::

So I'm still spending a goodly chunk of my time repeating over and over (both in my head and out loud), "I work for the BBC. I work for the BBC," in hopes that one of these times, it will sink in. This strategy is not working at all, but it's the best one I can think of, so I'm keeping it up. It's hard because there's really not much I can do yet. My roommate's moving out at the end of this month, and while I guess I could box up the things I know will go into storage, it just seems easier to let her get her things out first, and then start tearing down my own. I can't start making the transport arrangements until I get my contract, so I don't really know when I need to have everything ready, and that impacts my plans to go over and look for a flat, all of which makes me strongly suspect the whole lot is going to happen at once, and be one of those deals where suddenly I have to do everything in, like, three days.

I'm keeping the panic at bay by walking around the city looking at things, and also by cooking. Speaking of which, a few people have started yelling at me about never giving up the recipes for things I make frequently. As I always tell them, it's not that I'm being secretive and mysterious so much as I honestly don't know how much of stuff I use - it's largely done by feel and instinct and smell and so forth. But last Saturday's dinner was pretty straightforward, and while I can't guarantee the proportions are exactly right, they'll get you pretty close. The rest is up to you. So, without further ado, I give you Saturday Dinner (I made it for 8, but the below will feed 4 hungry folk):

Roasted Cornish Hens
you'll need:
4 hens
1 granny smith apple, diced
1 orange, peeled and cut into bits
1/2 sweet onion, diced
3-4 cloves garlic, minced
olive oil (i prefer to use garlic-infused, but that's up to you)
sea salt
black pepper
paprika
parsley/sage/thyme blend (usually called "poultry seasoning" or somesuch

1. Preheat your oven to 375.
2. Rinse the hens, inside and out, and pat them dry. You can throw the giblets away or use them as finger puppets, whatever you like.
3. Mix up the seasonings in a small bowl (this will keep you from getting olive oil all over your spice jars). No, I don't know how much of everything. You'll probably need more than you think you will - I go heavy on the paprika and poultry seasoning and lighter on the salt and pepper.
4. Rub the hens with olive oil and the seasoning mix, stuff them with the apple/onion/orange mixture and arrange them in a roasing tray, breast-up. Try and get some of the seasoning under the skin.
5. Drizzle the hens with a little more olive oil and put 'em in the oven. They'll take about 1.5 hours, or until they reach 180 internal temperature.

Mushroom/Sage Risotto
you'll need:
1 cup d'arborio rice, uncooked
1 - 1.5 cups mushrooms, sliced (I use a mix of button and baby portabbellos, usually)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup sweet onion, chopped
3-5 fresh sage leaves
2 tbsp. butter
2 tbsp. olive oil
several cups (maybe 3-4?) chicken stock (or whatever kind of stock you have - I made this once with duck stock and it was amazing)

1. Sautée the onion in the butter and olive oil for about 3 minutes, or until it starts to turn clear.
2. Add the rice and garlic and sautée another 2 minutes or so.
3. Add the mushrooms and sautée another 2 minutes, then add about 1/2 cup of stock.
4. Bring the mixture to a boil and cook until the liquid is absorbed, then add another 1/2 cup. Again, cook until the liquid is absorbed and add another 1/2 cup. Keep doing this until the risotto is al dente. About halfway through, crush or coarsely chop the sage leaves and throw them in. Around the same time, you may want to add a little sea salt and pepper, to taste.
Optional: you can use a little wine or sherry as part of the liquid, but if you're going to do that do it early in the cooking process.
Word Up: The whole process will take somewhere between 35 minutes and an hour, depending on how big of a flame you're using, so start early. Risotto is best when it's fresh, so don't let it sit too long before you serve it. I know, I know - timing's a bitch.

Blanched Asparagus with Lemon
you'll need:
1-1.5 lbs. asparagus, cleaned and trimmed
1 lemon
a little sea salt

1. Bring water to boil - enough to cover the asparagus.
2. Add the asparagus. Wait for the water to return to a boil and cook for another 2-3 minutes.
3. Drain asparagus. Squeeze some lemon over it, and then sprinkle with sea salt. Ta-dar!

So that's that. For dessert, we had vanilla ice cream with a berry-Frangelico reduction, courtesy of Travis. I prefer fruity things after a meal like this - the risotto's rich and the birds are warm and filling, and a big chocolate concoction always seems like overkiill to me. But chacun à son gout, as they say.

The party, by the way, was awesome. From cooking to the always-kooky stylings of 2 Many DJs to feeding the neighbors to the long-overdue tête-à-têtes to the dancing in the living room, I had an absolute blast. Thanks again to all who came over - it was truly a charmed evening, and the end to a pretty much perfect day. We'll have to do this again. Soon.

October 6, 2004

:: another great word i'll never (hopefully) get to use ::

Today's word of the day on WordSpy: gossypiboma. It's the official term for a sponge left inside a patient's body after a surgical procedure. Because "sponge" was too obvious, apparently, for the medical profession. Probably my favorite thing about the word - aside from how fun it is to say, and the fact that it sounds more like a teenage girl's pastime than anything hippocratic, is that its etymological roots are Latin and Swahili. There just aren't enough words in the English language that are based on Swahili.

On a barely related tangent, Swahili is one of the many languages in which I know how to say "I love you". For those who are curious: nakupenda sana (technically, that's "I love you very much", but you get the picture).

This concludes your rambling and pointless entry for today. I would have remarked on the vice-presidential debate (and, for that matter, on last week's presidential one), but I'm ashamed to admit that I gave up watching Edwards v. Cheney last night after about ten minutes. It was going nowhere pretty, and I stand by my decision to spend that time in the kitchen, cooking and drinking wine. Besides, I do try to (except when drunk and angry at 4 in the morning) stick to my self-imposed rule of no politics in the blog is good politics in the blog. Kind of like punk. Only more annoying and self-absorbed.

October 1, 2004

:: addendum ::

Comments are back up and running, or should be. If not, please lemme know.

And friends in the UK: just because it's difficult to leave Chicago doesn't mean I'm not pleased as all get-out to be close to you, at long last. Just so we're clear.

:: the good news and the bad news ::

There was a cryptic line in that last post ("...more than just my vacation at stake...") - well, cryptic if you haven't spoken to me lately, at any rate. But I was trying to keep things under wraps so as not to jinx myself before I went. Apparently that worked, because I can now make the following announcement:

I got a job with the BBC.

It all happened lighting-quick: got a call from an old acquaintance during the last week of August. Was I interested in being considered for a position with the BBC? Um, yes. Yes I was. A few weeks later, a phone interview was scheduled. A few days after that, I got a call inviting me to London for a second interview. I spent most of the following week in a semi-daze. Partly, I just didn't want to jinx myself by imagining all sorts of scenarios (largely revolving around me walking out onto a London street from my flat, getting on a train to White City to go to my job at the motherfucking BBC) - it just seemed like a fairy tale whenever I thought about it. It's a huge cliché, but when and where could I ever have another chance to work with this level of content - both quantity and quality - and this kind of reach? It's a real opportunity to make a difference for the public good, to use media to connect people with ideas. That's what I wanted to do when I started out in the theatre all those years ago. I couldn't even bring myself to imagine it as a reality.

And now it is.

Woohoooooooooo!

So what are the details, I can hear you asking (talk louder, I can barely hear you over the crickets)? I'll probably start work the 6th of December, which means I'll be out of here at the end of November. I may or may not be back for Christmas and/or New Year's. I'm planning trips to NYC/Boston and Memphis to say goodbye to some people and see some others get married. I'm doing a lot of celebrating, which could also be seen as training for my London lifestyle - I don't know many people over there anymore, but all the people I know drink.

[People who are inclined to be irritated/sickened by sappy shit, you would do well to stop reading right about here. I take no responsibility for nausea or seizure caused by the uncharacteristically high sugar content of the following paragraph(s).]

So that's the good news, and the bad news as well. I'm so thrilled this is happening that it still doesn't seem quite real to me, but it's going to be hard to leave Chicago. I've been here longer than I've ever been anywhere (10 years!), and my friends, at the risk of sounding all saccharine and kick-worthy, are truly some of the best people in the whole entire world. Who else would call me at 8 a.m. London time (2 a.m. in Chicago) to tell me they were doing shots at the bar to wish me luck? Who else would send texts every 6 hours or so, offering encouragement and support? Who else would offer me such award-worthy UK-specific interviewing tips? How can I leave the place where my life is chock full of these people? I'll have to figure it out as I go. And bully y'all into coming to visit. Tickets are cheap in January and February, you know...

Thanks so much to all you fabulous folk. I owe you, big.

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