When I was a kid in Minnesota, I went to this one summer day camp where they taught us, among other things,* to waterproof regular matches by painting clear nail polish on them. Years later living in Seattle, I diligently painted and dried each match this way. That’s the Dahlia Lounge matches you see in the picture. Then for about 4 years I brought them with for car camping and found they were annoyingly hard to strike, delaying my access to delicious and/or experimental dehydrated camp meals. I ended up defaulting to regular ones, like the ones above from Fish and Game Hudson here. Conclusion: you could also always go for survival matches like the ones above, or regular ones in a ziploc bag. Sometimes DIY is overrated.
*I vaguely recall them also teaching us to cut radishes into rose shapes…
There’s a new colorful set of creatures out in the lush urban jungle of Seattle. As native Seattlites hurry sweatily through the last summer “heat wave” of 76-80 degree weather, you might glimpse a flash of green and yellow behind a tree, a cheery orange appendage sidling up to the pavement, or a blur of both, speeding haphazardly to the next traffic light as they flirt with each other to see who handles best. What’s the skinny? Continue Reading
Recently, I had a chance to visit my fellow Minnesotan friend Tanya, her spouse Justin, and their daughter Mabel in Portland. They graciously had me over for dinner, and I got to see a demo of the Instant Pot. Apparently she was so excited about it she bought a second one when it was on sale on Amazon. My friend Candace in San Francisco had previously bothered messaging me about this device as a sped up way to make radish cakes, so it seemed only right that I listen to the universe’s repeated prodding to investigate this gadget.
How long should you boil corn? It sounds like a straightforward question, but your answer says a lot about where you grew up and your relationship to corn. Although I grew up in Iowa, where corn is indeed king, I’ve lived in several very different regions of the country as an adult (Rocky Mountains, Pacific NW, Kentucky) that, well, don’t grow much corn. But first, a disclaimer: I don’t actually know that much about corn. So consider this a non-expert Corn Fangirl blog, where hopefully I can share my love of corn and a bit of why it means so much to my home state.
1 c dehydrated braised chickpea chard coconut & couscous
1.5 c hot boiled water
About 35 minutes sit time, stir after 20*
Bored with your dehydrated backpacking meal rotation?
This just in: braised coconut chickpea & spinach recipe from The Kitchn works out as a dehydrated camp meal! Completed my trial of it yesterday with a taste test with some old friends.** Clockwise from top left: in my friend Alessandra‘s dehydrator, vacuum sealed +couscous (stored in freezer for optimum dryness while I was out galavanting), mid-hydration, ready to eat! Special thanks to Alessandra for loaning the dehydrator, and Torey for pointing me to the original recipe years ago while we were waiting for our S.O.s to finish the Vermont Beast.
I think food can be a very powerful tool for affecting people’s opinions and understanding of cultures beyond their own. I’m lucky to live in New York: a melting pot of a city where we have every type of food available to us and for the most part, folks are pretty tolerant of one another. This is no coincidence. When you eat each other’s food, the fear of the unknown or “the other” is often mitigated. It’s my hope that with Food Without Borders, there’s an opportunity to hear from some of the people cooking food (often behind the scenes) and that can potentially assuage some misunderstandings of who immigrants are.
–Sari Kamin: culinary ethnographer, storyteller, eater, and Master’s graduate of NYU’s Food Studies Program
You may find Episode 2 with Manal Kahi especially interesting. It features Eat Offbeat, which delivers authentic and home-style ethnic meals conceived, prepared and delivered by refugees resettled in NYC. You might also enjoy Episode 4 with Fany Gerson, author of “My Sweet Mexico,” featuring frozen treats and sweets of Mexico. She shares her experience of how Mexican ice cream is traditionally made, touches on the impact of free trade (or lack thereof) on ingredients for a small business, interesting contrasts in people’s price expectations of different kinds of cuisine, and doing good for your community as a small for-profit business.
-Familiar but unfamiliar: being too-rusty in language skills, feeling a stranger in a friendly city
What did I find?
Aah, that southern Chinese accent! Familiar, just …familiar.I walked off the plane to find the Taiwan scents and accents floating around only familiar. It’s this kind of lush, humid smell with a subtle industrious undercurrent. Not as plastic as Hong Kong, with a strong hint of tropics. Delightfully homey.
Sometimes when I hear another language, it sounds like something on the edge of my hearing, where I can’t quite understand but if I listen a little more in a different way, it’ll make sense. It’s like a whisper of misty rain, sifting by and gone before you know it. It also didn’t feel like I was drowning in a foreign language.
In Taiwan, like a tranquil pool, I was happy to sit in it and let the words float by in a sea of general comprehension. Some waters were in other unknown dialects, like Hakka and Taiwanese, but those friendly waters floated by harmlessly. Continue Reading
I learned to bike when I was eighteen. I had gone on the University of Minnesota’s excellent study abroad program to Tianjin, China. It’s two hours south of Beijing by train.
The first week Charles Sanft, our Program Director took us to buy bikes for $20 apiece and told us that’d be our main transportation for three months.
My roommate Diana and I got up early every day to try and ride our bikes in circles in the pavement in front of the luxe dorm*, and circle after circle, we got it. For three months, this $20 piece of clever machinery carried me through the foreign streets of sweltering Tianjin, to shop in the markets for red, white, and pink shirts (I never seemed able to find other colors in women’s sizes), to the clubs with hydraulic dance floors and Qingdao beer cheaper than water. I’d pay a coin to the kid watching the bike parking lot, hop off and stroll into the internet cafes to write home and also to squint at the AOL news ticker bar at the top of the instant messenger to read the non-censored world news. I’d learn that it would be wiser to walk my bike home from the bar rather than bother riding recklessly late at night. ,It would take me back to the dorms and class* to gain（briefly）full literacy. Thus began my love of biking, and now I use it for commuting, watch for bike options when traveling, and gleefully burn the calories of delicious food I so savor via two wheels.
This story commemorates the close of May
Bike Month in the U.S.
What’s your bike story?
Share in the comments below or via social media.
*In one Chinese language class, my professor had us read a story of a man riding a horse, who gets off his horse to ask for directions. This was meant to illustrate how to be polite if you stop your bike and need to talk to some one, and I still think of it to this day.