this place rules

i spend a significant amount of time (ok well, not compared to the time spent at my apartment, but compared to the time i spend not at my apartment but at places that would be considered business establishments of the light food service as in bakery/coffee/tea shop variety and require me to purchase things like snacks in order for me to not feel bad about using their wifi, this not being one of the small handful of locations being endangered of falling off my list due to my recent acquesision of internet at my homestead) at the flying apron. i might be considered a regular. i know the names of at least 2 staff persons. i would recognize most of the rest of them in a crowd in a different context (not an easy feat) save the person in the photo who i swear i've never seen before in my life. i'm finding that my degree of comfort with being here has a certain drawback. i'm having to curb the urge to rescue uneaten portions of baked goods from the top of the oh so easy to access bus tub that sits by the water pitcher counter. come on people, these items are baked with love! finish your plates! or at the very least, take it home to compost in your yard. worms and birds practically live off love.

that's all i got today. stay tuned for my massive widespread announcement of the holiday show i am working on.

making dreams come true

a worm hole is the only explanation I can give for my grievous absence. that, and work. of both the paid and art variety. I performed at Bumbershoot! a new slide show! it was nerve wracking and awesome and a dream come true. and being the first act of the day, the green room was packed with snacks. bonus!

this is the first year in 5 years that I have not worked the event. odd, but it felt weird to be there and not be so physically exhausted and sleep deprived. but it is an odd that I can definitely get use to. I recall many a morning biking to work feeling the exact consequences of my actions: working 12+ hours days lifting stupidly large awkward things, sleeping not my preferred 7+ hours, washing, rinsing, repeating. for like 2 weeks straight. one particularly beautiful late summer morning, I, bleary eyed, tired, was stopped at a stop light on Denny and Fairview. I looked up to the billboard and as soon as I registered what it was about, I almost burst into tears. it was a freaking WA Lotto ad where a guy in a glider has strapped a chicken to his chest, to show the little fowl what it is like to fly. (ok, all I could find when I googled 'lotto ad chicken guy in glider' was the penguin version. but I think if I had seen this one, I would have totally lost it right there in the street. I love penguins.) I think it was the caption, I can't remember it off the top of my head, that pushed me over the edge. something about making dreams come true. on any other day (for reals, ANY OTHER day) I would have thought nothing more of the ad than it being super clever. but take away my sleep and suddenly I am unable to control my emoting.

so instead of an emotional breakdown, this year for Bumbershoot, I drove myself almost to the point of throwing up with nerves! ah well, it wouldn't be a festival without some type of physical or psychological strain. and yes, totally worth it. see you all next year.

all about love. kinda.

today, while dropping off a library book to the downtown library's automated drop box, I was approached by an older woman pulling an over stuffed tote. 'I don't normally do this...' was her lead for her request for money. she had bus tickets, wanted cash to buy food. I had 2 bucks. I had been thinking about taking the bus anyways. sure, I said, reaching for my money. I peeled two bills off my more then 2 dollars wad of money and pocketed the bus pass. an amicable exchange followed; she turned to leave, I turned to place my over due by one day book in the box (bell hook's 'all about love.' I loved it! I love you! read it! don't read it! I love you anyways!). also in my bag, I noticed while closing the latch, food items I did not get to at lunch today. specifically half a granola bar and one hard boiled egg. I put the egg in my pocket and walked after the lady. she hadn't gone far (stopping to offer up a barter with people as she walked slowed her down). I caught up and offered her my egg, leaving the opened granola bar to crumb around in my bag. as I handed it over, several unconcurrent thoughts ran thru my head. one - it feels good to give. I have 2 more hard boiled eggs at home. and two - the soy yogurt tupperware that housed said ova was one of my favorite tupperware pieces! it is a one of a kind and I just gave it away to a total stranger who might just throw it away and not reuse/recycle it!
this is my brain.
this is my brain trying to wrestle with the idea of attachment.
sigh, my perfect lightweight egg transporter, gone
there are enough reused soy yogurt containers for everyone. release the soy yogurt container into the universe. the universe shall provide all the soy yogurt containers you shall ever need. amen.

'fruit' flies, not 'hot sauce' flies.

I've fallen into the habit of placing a little morsel of food, whatever it is I might be snacking on at home, into an upturned kombucha bottle cap placed outside, just so, on the window sill. I do it as an offering of thanks, acknowledgment of abundance, appeasement of the insect gods, because I think it's kinda fun.

This evening (ed. note: this was a few days ago), while I supped on my beans and rice, the fruit flies would not let me be. ah yes, I had forgotten to dish them out a serving. silly me! but then, even after mounding their bottle cap bowl with half a dozen grains of rice, a bean and an ear of corn, they still hovered. what gives? – oh, I see. perhaps there is something to serving them first. before the way liberal application of tabasco sauce. the flies, it would seem, have not the same tolerance for spice as I do. my apologies. next time, bugs first, human last.

some may call it a weakness, i may call it get out of my way before someone gets hurt

so i was in the theo chocolate factory the other day (for those who have not been, it rules. they have these alluring displays proffering up FREE samples of all their chocolate to all who enter.) and i totally got busted! the lady behind the counter, in the tender raw moment that existed between me inquiring about the availability of vegan confection samples and me picking out the 2 confections that i was yes, actually going to buy, asked if i lived or worked around there, implying that im in there OFTEN. and more OFTEN than not, i, after making the rounds, sneak out empty handed, half a chocolate bar worth of samples melting in my stomach, beginning to infiltrate its way into my bloodstream.

in my defense, both my acupuncturist and my therapist are within 3 blocks of the joint, im fremont once a week or so anyways, the factory just happens to be on my route. sometimes i need a little pick-me-up/smile in velvety brown bar shaped form. and sometimes i dont feel like eating an entire bar. if i wanted an entire bar, i would buy one. the samples are plenty for me right now, thank you, lady for your keen observance. and for my continued peripheral patronage, you may thank me in broken pieces of candied cacao nibs. no rush, i will just stand here and wait while you restock, you are doing a tremendous job. thank you, now move aside.

putting the lax in flax.

I have acquired a food dehydrator. this is exciting to me/how I spend my last Thursday night. I bought it cuz I'm on this raw foods kick. not that I'm following a raw foods diet 100 or even 50 per cent, but the idea of it interests me. as does the good for you desserts you can make. like raw ginger oat cookies. ok, I actually made those before the dehydrator moved in and subsequently ate them before I got around to plugging it in/turning it on.
so, instead, I broke my dehydrator in with a little treat called flax crackers. not a dessert but still fun! the recipe is super simple and time consuming (step one: soaking things for entire half days. step two: dry for twice as long). the results of my cracker making undertaking were somewhere between soft and crunchy, depending on how patient I was with step two, and not too bad in the taste category, hovering, like a 3 day old helium balloon, a little bit below some store bought ones I've had.
if you were to come over, I would offer you not one but three. not only did the recipe I followed result in the largest batch of soaked flax I have ever laid eyes upon, but I am currently refraining from them for several days. why, you may ask, am I on day two of no intake of this amazing, healthy snack that I personally made and am proud of? well, it's a little thing called too much of a good little thing.
flax seeds are bursting with all kinds of healthy buzz words: omega-3, lignans, alpha linolenic acids, fiber, to name a few. they are purported to fight cancer. diabetes, cholesterol, inflammation, constipation, heart disease - wait, go back, what was that second to last one? ah ha. . . . so I got a little excited when I was making them and ate a ton of crackers (quality assurance, people). so now for sure I don't have any of those illnesses that I didn't have prior to cracker making. and then some. it's like I ate so many that it pushed all those properties to the extreme. allow me to lift text directly off some flax loving website:

Flax is high in both soluble and insoluble fiber. One ounce of flax provides 32% of the USDA’s reference daily intake of fiber. Flax promotes regular bowel movements because it is high in insoluble fiber. Flaxseed's all natural fiber helps to absorb water, thereby softening the stool and allowing it to pass through the colon quickly.

other adverbs that could be used at the end of that sentence are: surprisingly, swiftly, speedily, briskly, posthaste, straight away, untimely, unfortunately, uncomfortably, unpredictably, embarrassingly. . .

sweet, sweet bike grease.

despite the fact that the results i got by using, in a pinch, two half-second depressions worth of generic canola cooking oil that comes in an aerosol container were not only fast acting, but satisfactory beyond my expectations, I don't particularly recommend repeated usage of said product for soon to be mentioned problem for reasons of undue greasiness, uncordial environmental effects, general unconventionality of action, and the fact that there are better choices out there (read: products made specifically for this problem), unless you are in aforementioned pinch, wrestling with rusty stuck bike lock under 'gonna be late to work i don't have time for this' time constraint while standing in the slight rain outside of ice cream shop on cap hill that is renowned for their creamy (and sorbety) sweet indulgences and homemade waffle cones that don't stick to the waffle maker due to oleicic properties of on the fly lubricant.
thank you, (kind employee of) ms. moon.

that smell is my lunch.

so, for the last, seemingly longest week of my life, I've been on this self imposed cleansing diet that requires me to ix-nay the ugar-say and beef up my raw sauerkraut. why the taste bud torture? I'm trying to alleviate some mildly annoying gastrointestinal imbalance. something about good bacteria being crowded out by bad bacteria. like how invasive blackberries taking over the yard. the sugar feeds the baddies so I'm trying to starve them dead and lovingly nurture the true, internal me. unfortunately for me and those down wind of me, loving nurturing smells bad. like freshly broken wind bad. paradoxically, the ten dollar a jar, made with love, fermented raw cabbage/mixed veggie blend, tastes, well, pretty darn good. zingy even. the epicurian experience is on a whole, pleasant. provided I hold my breath past the initial, I'm embarrassed by association, compost-tastic, nasal stinging blast.

strauss, party of one, your table in exile on the farthest end of the patio is ready for you.

why this book have no photos?

this year I have taken upon myself the culinary task of baking Geode's birthday cake. a fluffy, moist, white coconut cake. I was given a due date and descriptors to abide by, but no list of must have ingredients. I am not a seasoned baker. but I do love to cook. in my 'you say difficult, I say delicate' diet, I do not eat the cattle dairy or cattle cattle. let it be known, also, that my taste receptors equate 'healthy' with 'yum.' therefore, she, on the verge of 30, is at my mercy.
this evening was Stab 1 at Mission Birfday Cake: recently, I fished out of my parent's give away pile the hot off the press in 1984 glossy covered copy of 'Natural Foods Cookbook, Vegetarian Dairy-Free Cuisine' complete with dessert recipe, tucked almost at the end of the book, entitled 'Outrageous Coconut Date Cake.' while I was warily aware that people's personal definitions for common adjectives ranges greatly, my faith had already been won over by previous completions of several recipes towards the front of the book. so I followed the recipe (well, except for the raisin 'frosting.' I switcherooed half the raisins for prunes. don't knock it till you try it, it tastes good. also, geode already punched me in the arm for it.) and the results, in a coconutshell, were 'hey, that's not bad. no, wait, that's pretty good. except for the frosting.' barring strict adhearence to the request that it be fluffy and white, the cake was a success! leaving me with confidence to forge forward, the Natural Foods way, and, while I'm at it, try other people's ideas of healthy and dairy free 'cake.'

the one thing this book lacks, that, at first thought, would just put this book over the top into the realm of best ever, but at second thought, would, well, maybe it's best they didn't, is photos of the finished product. whilst googleimagesearching other decorated vegan cookies, it became quite clear that sometimes, healthy just ain't pretty. specially desserts. no, just desserts. kale salad is beautiful, cooked butternut squash is ravishing. date/nut bars, 'no-bake' couscous cake, oatmeal cookies, etc etc are, it hurts my hippie sensibilites to say it, ugly. tasty, yes. but sadly lacking in the looks department. MY CAKE AND CUPCAKES ARE NO EXCEPTION. they look, er, healthy. (which, personally, is hardly a cause for hesitation as my hand reaches out to snag snacks of any kind.) but when trying for a food item that is characteristically, name-sakey white and fluffy, whole wheat wholesome with prune paste is a hard sell. but know that they are, in fact, delicious (in the publicly accepted form of the word) in a way that only words can describe.