After Ash

I never told you about the things I threw away
after
or the space you take up in my empty apartment
I think on it
skip stones on it
lose sleep not holding you
I trace around moments that made me forget
you write about times you remember
I speak of documents, (laundry,) the passing of clouds, mail, and stuff of strangers
lists that leak
conversation that leaches
my heart has tried on many languages in hopes of reaching you

by Cristina Paul

Cinful Yet Delicate Paillards

Paillards (pie-yards)

*easier to eat than to say
*easier to cook than to find a word with which it rhymes (but I guess that's not saying much)

prepare this meal for 2

INGREDIENTS FOR SAUCE:
1/4 cup orange juice
1 generous Tablespoon honey
1 (3 inch) cinnamon stick
1/4 teaspoon dried hot pepper flakes
1 Tablespoon butter

INGREDIENTS FOR PAILLARDS:
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts pounded to 1/4 inch thickness
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
chopped mint for garnish

DIRECTIONS:
1. Simmer all sauce ingredients except for butter in a 1 quart saucepan, uncovered for about 2 minutes. Set aside while cooking the chicken breasts.
2. Cook cumin, paprika, and pepper in oil in a small skillet over low moderately low heat. Stir occasionally for 2 minutes and the spices should become aromatic. Transfer to a small bowl and leave any remaining oil in the skillet - do not clean!.
3. Brush spiced oil onto the paillards and sprinkle each side with salt. Arrange the paillards in the skillet and pour remaining oil into the skillet.
4. Grill the paillards over moderately low heat for about 7 minutes then turn over and cook until juices run clear - about 6 more minutes. Transfer the chicken to a plate and tent with foil while finishing the sauce.
5. Pour the sauce through a fine sieve into the skillet and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and add butter and swirl the skillet until the butter melts into the sauce. Season the sauce with extra salt or pepper if desired. Pour the sauce over the paillards, sprinkle with mint, and consume with gustatory glory.

*Although the origin of paillards is unknown, they are generally thinly-sliced or pounded, quick-cooking cuts of beef or chicken. Paillards are nice for the summer because their cook-time is quick which means less heat in the kitchen and more time to soak up some vitamin D from my favorite star - the Sun. Because paillards have got a lot of surface area they appear to be larger than they actually are which means you can keep your girly or burly figure and still be satisfied.
**This chicken would be lovely with couscous (also a quickie)

cooked by Cristina

Blah-Blah-Blahg: Food For Nought

Today, I received a frighteningly "inspirational" video text message, complete with Atari-like, God music. The video was of gray footprints (no feet though) making their ominous way along the sand of an overcast beach - I was hoping the feet would lead me to a free prescription of Xanax or something like a pot of gold at the end of a beatific rainbow - no such luck. However, the text urged me to spread the Word to at least 7 others. For a second there, I struggled against a fear that those benevolent footsteps might turn into nasty, bird-dogging demons during my sleep. Fortunately, a more level-headed friend, who knows that I don't really need a happy pill, nor do I require a pot of gold to purchase a Cartier watch for myself and all of my closest friends, and I certainly am no purveyor of Logos, sent me this awesome video. If I had my way with the world, we'd all be doing something sorta like this.

The Naming of The Animals

Having commanded Adam to bestow

Names upon all the creatures, God withdrew

To empyrean palaces of blue

That warm and windless morning long ago,

And seemed to take no notice of the vexed

Look on the young man's face as he took thought

Of all the miracles the Lord had wrought

Now to be labeled, dubbed, yclept, indexed.



Before an addled mind and puddle brow,

The feathered nation and the finny prey

Passed by; there went biped and quadruped.

Adam looked forth with bottomless dismay

Into the tragic eyes of his first cow,

And shyly ventured, "Thou shalt be called 'Fred.'"

by Anthony Hecht, from Collected Later Poems.

Nopales On My Mind

Serves 4


Because everyone deserves a taste of this slimy creature food. This dish pairs nicely with other summer fare such as grilled chicken or sausages.

INGREDIENTS:
1 medium sized nopal leaf (be sure that it's pretty flat and firm if you are going to prepare the leaf yourself)
kosher salt
2 larger or 3 smaller ripe manila mangoes
2 large, ripe avocados
2 Tbsp of fresh lime juice
1/4 cup chopped, fresh mint
2 Tbsp of roasted and salted pistachios
1/8 tsp very high quality, viscous balsamic vinegar

DIRECTIONS:
1. Trim and wash the nopal leaf.
2. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Boil the whole nopal leaf for 15-18 minutes. Remove the nopal from the boiling water and transfer to an ice bath.
3. Cut the nopal into 1/2" thick strips that are about 2" long. Place the nopales in a chilled bowl - they will be a bit slimy and will become even more mucilaginous once they are in the salad - don't fear.
4. Cut the mangoes into bite sized pieces and remove the skin. Add them to the bowl of nopales.
5. Cut the avocado into bite sized pieces and sprinkle with kosher salt.
6. Add the lime juice and nearly all of the mint to the bowl of nopales and mango. Then add the avocado to the salad and stir. Top off the salad with the remaining mint, pistachios, and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar.

***Buy prepared nopales if you can so that you needn't bother with trimming the thorns off of this cactus. If you can't buy the nopales that have already been trimmed, use a vegetable peeler instead of a knife and peel horizontally to work most efficaciously. It is much easier to trim a flat nopal than one that is bent. There are instructions on the link above.
***Manila Mangoes are originally from the Phillipines. They are less fibrous and even more delicious than your typical mango and readily available at most Whole Foods, all mexican markets, and many supermarkets
*** If you'd like to get loquissimo replace the pistachios or the nopales with radishes, queso fresco, and/or cotija cheese.

recipe by Cristina Paul

Blah-Blah-Blahg: Food For Nought

Did You Know?
*25% of U.S. oil is used to make plastic products like straws. If neanderthals and nineteenth century Luddites didn't need them to drink, why do we? What if EVERYONE stopped using straws today?

Other Things Everyone Should Know
Check out this amazing green porno - not exactly sure what kind of green they mean... but you'll like it.




Playing tag has recently become my favorite respite from the crippling morass (emphasis on the ASS) of my mind. Besides the fact that onlookers may think you're slightly wonky, it's surprisingly good exercise (your lungs will hurt, your legs may tremble), it's less self destructive and expensive than drowning your sorrows in alcohol, and doesn't leave the carbon foot print of a pack of cigarettes or a long, relaxing drive. Plus, you can't play tag without a smile.

However, alcohol is often an excellent companion and if you should want to enjoy its company in a thoughtful manner, try an excellent and relatively local, Napa wine; I am sadly surrendering my Pellegrino habit because of the fact that it travels such a long way to reach my local CostCo - I'm suffering from serious carbon emission guilt. However, with a wicked label and name, you've got to uncork a bottle of The Prisoner and experience this unlikely blend - Zinfandel (51%), Cabernet Sauvignon (23%), Syrah (12%), Petite Sirah (6%), Charbono (6%) and Grenache (2%). Purchase The Prisoner online, at Akasha in Culver City, or at The Wine House in West L.A.

Not into tag? Do you think drinking red wine during the summer months is gauche? Then BYOD - or bring your own dance.

What We Want

What we want
is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names—

now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don't remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us.
It is there all day

as an animal is there

under the table,

as the stars are there.

by Linda Pastan, from Carnival Evening