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Posts tagged ‘strawberries’

Muffin Monday: Strawberry Blonde Ambition

I have a lot of interests.  Too many in fact.  I suffer from “I-want-to-do-it-all-and-I-want-it-right-now”-itis.  As a result I have this horrifying habit of overloading myself and piling way too much on my plate—sort of like taking what Jewish mothers do at the dinner table.  I want to volunteer, I want to cook, I want to keep up on my blog, I want to get my advance certification in clinical trials, I want to go to grad school, I want to go to yoga teacher training…I want.  I want.  I want.  God how annoying.  Anyway one of the things I also love to do is act but I have the hardest time ever admitting that to people.  For one thing I worry that it seems like I cheapen my day job, which I love, as something I’m not passionate about.  I would hate for employers or anyone else to think that I treat my role in curing cancer as something to “pass the time” until I get discovered.  I love science and I love what I do so I hate to mention this other passion of mine because people then assume that I must not actually want to work in clinical trials.

Also I’m blonde.  A tiny, little blonde girl who looks like every other tiny little blonde girl to ever move to Los Angeles.  I can just hear the cliché clicking into place whenever I admit to someone that I have a passion for acting.  Though in my defense my hair is strawberry blonde so I’m not quite the bleached out bimbo that personifies the ultimate Hollywood Wannabe…right?  The worst part is that wanting to do any sort of acting at all gets you lumped in with the celebrity grabbers and the money grabbers and this idea that you have daddy issues and didn’t get enough love in your childhood.  I love them for loving me and they love me for loving them…and that’s cuz we didn’t get enough love in our childhoods.

The thing is my desire to act stems from the earlier problem I mentioned.  I really want to experience everything this life has to offer and unfortunately that’s almost impossible.  Almost.  I say almost because that’s the big allure acting has always offered in my mind.  You get to be anyone and who you get to be changes from one day or week to the next.  You might spend a few weeks on broadway playing an orphan girl and then switch to the most villainous woman in the land poisoning her step-daughter.  You might get to play an astronaut in one film and go to NASA space camp to train for the role.  The next you could be hacking away trees in the Amazon for a eco-thriller.  The range of experiences that actors get to have, all while exploring the multifaceted human psyche is something I have always coveted.  It’s why I would, given the change, want to pursue a career doing exactly what I want to do: everything.

As a child playing imagination games wasn’t something I did just because my family was too poor for video game systems. It wasn’t something I did just because there was nothing else to do.  It wasn’t even something I did because televisions shows told me to—which ha, that always made me laugh.  I did it because it was acting even if there was no audience to see it.  And as for my passion in science?  Well one of my favorite little stories to play out with my cousin was this:

I was a mutant, like on the x-men, with a brilliant scientific mind and powers over plants and the weather but ONLY in the rainforest.  I lived my days in my treehouse cultivating plants to develop cures for diseases all the while battling forces of evil trying to destroy the fragile ecosystem of Brazil.  (I really had a thing for Brazil when I was little…and the rainforest)  I could summon rainstorms and grow exotic plants which produced rare chemicals all while I raced to find the cure for the mysterious illness killing off my mutant brethren.  An illness that may have been genetically engineered by those in the government trying to remove us from the planet….

Then at some point I felt like my little fantasy was too “girly” because having an interest in mutant powers wasn’t for girls unless it was “feminized” and I felt like making my powers based in plant life did just that.  Defiant to the end to be a girl-empowered kickass I soon became enamored instead with astronomy and spent most of my years thinking I wanted to be a space station engineer.  I still kind of wish I had pursued that but my natural talents fell more toward microbiology so one day I said “fuck it I love biology and it’s insulting to insinuate it’s a feminine science.”  Thttp://rollingsreliable.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=3403&action=edithen I discovered biotech which let me merge both sides of the science together in that much love/hate field of genetic engineering.  Wow this tangentalized pretty quickly.

Anyway my point is: I love acting because I love getting to explore all my interests which are varied and exponential.  Give me a week and I’ll have another handful of things I’ve discovered/read/found that I want to learn about.  My brain and my heart are greedy things looking to get a grasp on any human experience possible.  Acting is the vehicle to do this.  But that’s not what people hear when I say “Oh well I’m also an actress.”

Then of course there’s the modeling.  That really is just about getting to wear the clothes.  What?  I’m not allowed to have a superficial side too?  Kind of like these muffins.  They aren’t particularly healthy or good for you but they taste delightful.  They are somewhat lower in cholesterol since the recipe doesn’t utilize eggs but it does have a fair amount of butter.  You could easily veganize it if you liked by replacing the butter with a non-hydrogenated butter substitute.  It’s also very stiff, dry dough so don’t be alarmed when mixing if it seems too thick.  This is likely (I didn’t write this recipe so I’m only guessing here) because the strawberries you add to the batter have a high water content.  It’s why strawberries are very rarely used in recipes because that can be quite difficult to work with.  In this case they hydrate the dough during baking so you end up with some very tender, moist muffins in the end. These are proof that you can marry something as basic as a muffin recipe, with something as sublime as a strawberry and get a perfect union as a result.  I only hope that my passion for something as cliché as acting and my passion for science and using my brain can someday do the same thing and shock the world in a way that these will shock your tastebuds: delicious, sweet goodness.

Strawberry Blonde Muffins Read more

Straw Berry: The Next Generation

A generation of wimps?

I just heard the phrase “Strawberry Generation” thrown around recently.  Apparently this is a term coined by the Chinese to refer specifically to Taiwanese children born between 1981 and 1995, though it’s being applied still to youths born through the end of the 90’s.  Sounds nice doesn’t it?  Strawberries are delicious!  Wrong.  The actual meaning refers to the fragility of the strawberry; prone to easily bruising and rotting away and raised gingerly in “greenhouses” rather than wild.

Initially I thought what a bunch of hooey, this must be another element of the cultural divide between the eastern and western worlds.  Surely no one could claim my generation has it easy.  I know far too many young people working their butts off to find jobs that don’t exist, or only finding contract positions with no real stability, and basically missing out on the promise of the American Dream.  Work hard and get rewarded?  More like work hard and then work harder.  I certainly know it feels that way for me by the end of the week.  I’m exhausted and burnt out and not feeling any closer to the kind of job potential or security I thought I would have by the age of 24.   Of course then I turned on the television set and saw yet another hour of television on channel after channel about spoiled, self-indulgent socialites and wanna-be-celebutards.  Then I thought about the myriad of people my age whose viewership has helped proliferate these shows, who aspire to be these people.  Then I saw my teenage brother once again moan about how hard his life is because he has to wash a handful of dishes 3 days a week.

Wow.  Maybe there was something to this concept after all.  I can’t imagine my grandfather’s generation whining about a 15 minute chore he is expected to do every other day.    Why, why are so many kids like this today?  Why do I want to slap them so hard when I hear it?  #firstworldproblems right?  I found a great article from a few years ago in Psychology Today on the very concept of our “wimpy generation”

No one doubts that there are significant economic forces pushing parents to invest so heavily in their children’s outcome from an early age. But taking all the discomfort, disappointment and even the play out of development, especially while increasing pressure for success, turns out to be misguided by just about 180 degrees. With few challenges all their own, kids are unable to forge their creative adaptations to the normal vicissitudes of life. That not only makes them risk-averse, it makes them psychologically fragile, riddled with anxiety. In the process they’re robbed of identity, meaning and a sense of accomplishment, to say nothing of a shot at real happiness. Forget, too, about perseverance, not simply a moral virtue but a necessary life skill. These turn out to be the spreading psychic fault lines of 21st-century youth. Whether we want to or not, we’re on our way to creating a nation of wimps.

The phenomenon of over parenting isn’t new.  It’s been discussed widely how parents are doing too much for their children, sheltering them and not letting the Ms. Frizzle philosophy take hold.  You know “Take chances, make mistakes and get messy!”  These were words I lived by as a child.  So few do these days.  I’ve written before about how I suffer(ed) from anxiety and depression and how a simple to do list can help me combat that. This paragraph really struck me:

Herein lies another possible pathway to depression. The ability to plan resides in the prefrontal cortex (PFC), the executive branch of the brain. The PFC is a critical part of the self-regulation system, and it’s deeply implicated in depression, a disorder increasingly seen as caused or maintained by unregulated thought patterns—lack of intellectual rigor, if you will. Cognitive therapy owes its very effectiveness to the systematic application of critical thinking to emotional reactions. Further, it’s in the setting of goals and progress in working toward them, however mundane they are, that positive feelings are generated. From such everyday activity, resistance to depression is born.

I have so often prescribed the act of setting goals and accomplishing them, even if it’s a series of physical labors, as a great cure to depression.  Guess I was on to something backed by Science! after all.  Sweet.  It’s why I try to encourage my rather lethargic brother to sit down, set goals and start moving toward them.  I get disgusted and so frustrated when he sits on the couch talking about what he wants in life but making no move to achieve it…or worse, he blames my mother.  As an example I asked why he hasn’t gotten his driving permit yet as he is 17.  When I was his age I was begging to get mine, you need a parent to sign off, and being shot down.  My mom was afraid of letting her eldest out onto the road and so I was in his same shoes (stranded and unable to drive myself anywhere) but it was not for a lack of desire.  As is typical with parents by the time the eldest has broken through those initial barriers, the world seems a little less scary.  Our mom is more than happy to sign off and let my brother get his permit.  So I ask, frustrated that he is wasting the opportunity I wanted so badly at his age, why he hasn’t gotten it yet.  “Well I don’t know how, Mom hasn’t told me what to do.”

What?!  This is a boy who, given the motivation, can locate obscure videos of a Ukranian albino doing a tap dance on the internet.  He knows how to use a computer and do it well.  It’s simply a matter of logging onto the DMV website and finding the instructions.  Yet he expects it to be handed to him.  This isn’t anything new.  I see it constantly among people my own age and the younger crowd of the late 90’s.  They have become so reliant upon parents and what’s more, the plethora of psychological excuses parents are providing to explain why Johnny needs special attention.

Parental hovering is why so many teenagers are so ironic, he notes. It’s a kind of detachment, “a way of hiding in plain sight. They just don’t want to be exposed to any more scrutiny.”

Parents are always so concerned about children having high self-esteem, he adds. “But when you cheat on their behalf to get them ahead of other children”—by pursuing accommodations and recommendations—you just completely corrode their sense of self. They feel ‘I couldn’t do this on my own.’ It robs them of their own sense of efficacy.”

I’ve noticed that when confronted with something that seems insurmountable, my brother who is a qualified, legitimate genius, will shut down.  There is an overwhelming anxiety surrounding the impossibility of the task at hand.  Without a clue how to tackle it, he just stops dead in his tracks and refuses to move forward at all.  It’s been like this since he was young.  The problem of a messy bedroom springs to mind.  Initially I think it was a convenient excuse.  You know “it’s so messy I don’t even know where to start so I’m not going to bother” but giving in to that excuse, that mindset, morphs so easily into actual psychological conditioning.  My brother, and many others like him, became so convinced that they couldn’t do it on their own, without help or guidance, that now they literally can’t.

I love my family, don’t get me wrong, and I’m not sharing this exchange to bad mouth anyone.  I just wanted to remark on this trend of “do it for me” and “it’s too hard” that drives me up the wall.  Claiming to not know where to start, letting it shut you down, it angers me to see someone who I know should be, could be, hell IS capable, do that.  Probably because I did it myself for a while.  These angers and frustrations are rooted in my own disappointment with the times I frittered away and let some bruises life gave me turn to rot.

So here’s how you solve the problem: you don’t worry about where you start.  You just start.  It doesn’t matter where.  Whether it’s a messy room or a messy life, you just pick a corner and start picking things up.  It’s not always the most efficient way to do it but learning how to get faster and better comes later.  It comes from learning from doing and that doing isn’t always right.  You’re going to make mistakes and get messy, but you’ve got to take the chance in order to get wherever it is you are trying to go.  When I look back on times where I’ve felt lost, depressed and riddled with anxiety, I always describe making it through the same way.  I felt like life was this thick fog and I didn’t know where I was going.  It was oppressive and at times made me want to sit down and be crushed by the weight of it in my chest.  Instead I kept my feet moving.  I didn’t know where I was going, I might be going off a cliff, in circles or right back to the beginning, but I had to keep my feet moving.  Every time I discover the fog lifts eventually and I find my way out…bruised?  Sure.  But even bruised fruit can turn into something sweet.

We had a container of strawberries in the fridge recently.  Purchased for my brother who will of course, refuse to eat a lot of what we buy, insists on certain items and then as often as not, they go to waste.  Well I wasn’t going to let that happen to such beautiful strawberries the other evening so I pulled out Dorie and made this simple tart.  It isn’t over the top, it isn’t complicated.  In fact if you don’t count the tart shell it used 5 ingredients.  Two pints of strawberries may have rotted away in a fridge because no one was eating them as there were just too many to deal with…instead I transformed them into a dessert that was quickly devoured.  This is what too many of my generation and the next aren’t learning how to do.  Times are rough and they are only getting worse despite a bounty of progress around us.  We have to keep on moving or we’re going to waste away so much potential and there is SO MUCH open to us.

La Palette’s French Strawberry Tart and Spiced Tart Dough
both recipes from Dorie Greenspan’s “Baking from my home to yours” Read more

Yogurt Cake with Attitude

What is rude?

I was accused of being a “rude bitch” by a complete stranger this past weekend. It was jarring and ultimately hilarious for reasons to follow. Still as I sit here looking longingly at the photos of my French Yogurt Cake, I think of the “Rude French” stereotype and wonder: what is rude? More specifically where did the concept of the prissy Parisian stem from? To date I haven’t been to France though I fully intend to go one day, if nothing else to tour Giverny home of my favorite impressionist Monet. I’ve been told by many friends that have gone that the “rude” French is simply a misconception from simple cultural differences. Americans can seem quite rude contrasted against native French in their quiet cafes when they scream at misbehaving children like they’re living on a barn. In short: it’s all a matter of perception.

Back to my story though about my rude behavior. Friday had been a series of unpleasant, disappointing events culminating in the worst dining experience I’ve had in a long time. Davis friends do NOT go to Luigi’s. My double date decided to try to salvage the evening by seeing a film. It was 10PM and we were hoping to go to the 10:10 showing of the new Snow White flick. Alas twihards were out in force for opening weekend and at that point the showing had sold out. The line for the 11PM was wrapped around the block already and only one register was open. Knowing we probably wouldn’t get tickets, the group decided to try to catch Dark Shadows that was playing at 10:15. Side note: don’t see this movie. Not worth it.

In any case after I did a quick survey of the group I realized we were not going to move fast enough through the line to make the start of the film. Most of these kids had plenty of time for their film and I wondered if there was a way to get our tickets well, first. I mean it makes sense from the perspective of a business owner: selling more tickets is good. An empty theatre in 5 minutes for a full theatre in 50 is silly when you could have 4 more purchases with a little line shuffle and still fill up the later showing. So I sought out the manager and asked if they could open another register for non-snow white movie goers. A woman at the front of the line heard my inquiry and then made her comment.

See she’d been standing in line for the past 30 minutes. I can only surmise she partly resented my asking because she put in the time. Or she just doesn’t understand that sometimes in life it never hurts to ask. We got our tickets by the way. The manager agreed with my summary of the situation and let those trying to get to other showings go to a second window. I couldn’t be bothered to suppress a little smirk when I waltzed into the movie a few minutes after this exchange to discover my insult slinging strange acquaintance been standing in line for Dark Shadows as well; no wonder she was annoyed I moved through the line so fast.

After having such a long day I relished the victory even if the movie was abysmal. Still I wonder: do you think I was rude?

I don’t. I think if I offended anyone recently it would probably be Dorie Greenspan when I smothered her already delicious recipe for a dense French Yogurt cake with orange cream, orange flavored whipped cream and ripe strawberries. Over the top and excessive Americanism on a simple, understated French Dessert. Sounds about right :-D Next time I’ll just make the loaf itself and enjoy it that way but I couldn’t help myself from wanting to use up the orange cream I’d made days earlier… All a matter of perception I suppose.

Anyway here is the original recipe with my variation for baking listed below.

French Yogurt Cake Read more

Strawberry Fields Forever

“I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they’re right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.
— Marilyn Monroe

I have found some of the most amazing friends in my neighbors.  You know the ones I ended up finding when I had to move for a third time in January.  They are some really wonderful folks who I always enjoy spending time with and we’ve actually made ourselves a little family.  Enough so that on Fridays we have potluck dinners in my apartment. One of the girls upstairs is a level 5 celery sucker (anyone know that reference??) so we try to always ensure at least one vegan entree.  I also will make desserts occasionally and I do my best to make a vegan dish so Moogles can eat it as well.  One week Gizmo, my current roomie, was out with Moggles and they brought back a HUGE batch of strawberries from the famer’s market.  They figured that I’d bake something with them if no one ate them up quickly enough.  I took one look at them and knew that I’d end up making Strawberry Rhubarb pie.  Read more

Fruity Oaty Bars

Fruity Oaty Bars make a man out of a mouse
Fruity Oaty Bars make you bust out of your blouse
Eat em all the time, let em blow your mind
Fruity Oaty Bars – Fruity Oaty Bars

I have been MIA for the last week and half but for good reason.  The all encompassing, awe-inspiring event known as Comic Con.  I spent July 21-25 geeking out in the most absurd ways.  I stood in line for 3 hours to get into panels.  I took 200+ photos.  I spent way too much money on a Star Trek corset.  I dressed up in costume (and made it into some cosplay hottie galleries online btw!) for half the days.  Oh and did I mention to you yet that I MET JOSS WHEDON !? Read more

Roseberry Sorbet

I am so excited because tomorrow I am going whitewater rafting! My goal this year has been to take more chances, make mistakes and get messy*; basically I want to be more daring. I want to spend more time living and less time watching tv. In honor of this adventurous spirit I present to you my dear readers, a delicious experiment with rose water. *If you know where that quote is from I’ll send you some cookies.

Roseberry Sorbet

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