A fuera

I guess I should blame my mother. She started it all. I went to her house ednesday night because she had had surgery and needed someone to stay the night at the house. Waiting for me were roasted chicken, tortillas and salsa verde to be turned into enchiladas. My mom had found a new source for tortillas, but more about that later. I'm still kicking myself for not bringing a container of that sauce home. Yes, my mother makes her own sauce. Oh, and there was cotija cheese as well. But the sauce. I think it may have been at least six years since my mother has made the sauce for me. Now if I only get her to make some albondigas. There is more to this tale than food though.

After hitting the Farmville event nearby on Saturday, I found myself sitting in a auto place waiting for the smog test on my car. Tired of playing games on my phone, I decided to do a little web surfing. Earlier in the week, I had learned that La Mission would be opening. And Peter Bratt would be appearing at one of the screenings in San Francisco for a Q&A. So I pulled up the theaters website and purchased a ticket. The movie was fantastic. It was the San Francisco I know and love filled with characters who have crossed my path at various times in my life. It is also the kind of film that makes you think about so many things in our society. I miss going to films that make you think; I miss being a member of the film society.

Today I decided to fully embrace my inner cholita -- because that's what this is really about, my inner cholita -- by heading over to Mi Pueblo. I could have taken the freeway but I decided to cruise down Bancroft instead since it was a nice day out. It's almost like cruising 23rd in Richmond for me.

I had been hearing about the store for quite some time but had not found the time to make it over there. It was dinner at my mom's on Wednesday that the impetus. See, she had bought the tortillas at Mi Pueblo's new location in San Rafael. And she's still pissed off that there isn't one in Richmond or San Pablo.


Seeing the chickens grilling in front of the store was a good sign in my book.


The first section one hits upon entering is the panaderia. And I was hungry. And without a list. But of course I had to pick up some tres leches cake. So many flavors. A woman standing next to me at the counter agreed that it would be appropriate to ask for one of each. I simply got the fresa and the cafe. Hmmm. Bet Fluffycat would love the latter.


Then there was the quiet solitude of the produce section in which I found the elusive epazote. I bought in dry form though so that I will never have the epazote crisis again when making sopa de flor de calabaza.

After stopping at the tortilleria section for tortillas fresh out of the machine, I hit their taqueria section. By this point my true cholita had emerged as I spoke to the staff and fellow shoppers in my Spanglish. I wanted the carnitas but they weren't ready yet so I picked up half of a chicken.


And then the tilapia caught my eye so I needed one of those as well. I haven't seen fish cooked like this since the last time I was in Mexico. I discussed this with a fellow customer while we waited for frijoles -- yes, they were out of beans. He said that he found that fish was typically cooked this way. Then I mentioned a la Veracruzana -- one of the dishes my mom loves to prepare -- and he told me about a place on International that makes it that way.


By the time the beans were ready, so were the carnitas.

Lesson learned. Never shop in Mi Pueblo on an empty stomach. Another thing learned? Apparently Latinos are not down with gin. As I scanned the liquor section while at the checkout, I noticed tons of tequilas and rums -- something I completely expected. There were also a few brandys and vodkas thrown in. But not a single bottle of gin. Huh.

And yes, I will be returning to Mi Pueblo. In fact I might be doing the bulk of my shopping there now. And I will be seeing La Mission again. But don't worry. Embracing my inner cholita does not involve Aquanet. That is so last century.

I'll prove her wrong

My mom called when I was on my way home from work. I was still talking to her once I arrived home and since I always use a headset when driving, I was able to continue doing what I had planned to do. At one point I told her that I was lighting some charcoal. She said that it was entirely too late -- it was 5:30 -- to start grilling for tonight's dinner. I guess it is if you're used to having dinner at 5:30. I tend to eat a bit later. And I had had my lovely Trader Joe's frozen sole meal for lunch that is all of 190 calories so that I could have this calorie splurge.


I don't know about y'all but while I'm tending the grill, I need a cool beverage. I'm just bummed that my cute little mermaid that I picked up at dinner in Moss Landing is now broken.

I decided that this year I am ready for the next step in the Chilebrown/Dr. Biggles school of grilling. Once the coals were hot, I spread them and dropped in the drip pan so that I could do the whole indirect heat thing. And then I dropped some soaked apple wood chips on top of the coals. I can so taste the difference made by adding wood. The wood thing is new to me but I am now completely converted.


And of course once I get the grill started for some meat, I start thinking about what else I can throw on there. This time it was artichokes. I steam them a bit on the stove before they hit the grill.


OK. I'll admit it. I have some Sally tendencies. Because I was cooking for just myself, I did not need to put the sauce on the ribs. I mean they had a dry rub on them that I had applied yesterday. My feeling is that meat with a good rub does not need sauce. Even though I had made a pretty good sauce last night. (Maddie, the Jack is in the barbecue sauce.) And while I usually use hummus as a dip for artichokes, in my opinion grilled 'chokes just scream for homemade aioli.

Only thing is that I have a lot of sauce in the fridge. What to grill next? Because yes, it is grilling season as far as I'm concerned.

Braving the weather

Now I know that some of y'all in colder climates are saying to yourselves, "Weather? Those Californians are such wimps." Yes, we are. We like our temperate climate. But this is an El Nino year so I see lots of rain and cold in our immediate future. And lots of whining as a result. We are petulant privileged children. (Say that fast three times. I double dog dare you.)


But Friday evening was the start of Hanukkah. And me? I am down with any religious holiday that involves food. (Note to self -- Must research Hindu and Buddhist traditions for ones that involve food as well as I am only versed in the Christian, Jewish and Islamic ones.) So Friday I headed out into the awful rain to Berkeley. Saul's had a latke tent for the weekend. I cannot even begin to describe my love of latkes. OK. It is not as great as my love of blintzes but still.


This weekend was more about this inspiration though. When Maddie and Boy Toy were out here in August, we hit a couple of wineries and I joined their wine clubs. Imagine my surprise at the beginning of November when instead of my usual two bottles, I received this beauty. Yes, it is a magnum. And yes, in this photo it is completely empty. How? Well, I sent out an Evite and cooked up some food.


There was my usual goat cheese with fig and walnut tapenade to start the evening. The main was a salad, bread, moussaka and spinach lasagna (pictured). There were children running around laughing and playing. Adults were busy catching up on one another's lives. Jade said that she had watched Julie and Julia earlier in the day and it made her think of me. For me, it felt like home.


I awoke this morning a bit fuzzy around the edges. And then it hit me. They had eaten everything. There was no food left save the baklava even though they had put a pretty healthy dent in it as well. The remainder will be going to work with me tomorrow as I am sticking true to my weight loss goal. Because -- squeeee! -- I had lost another pound when I got on the scale this morning. I now weigh less than I did back in July. This is real and I can do it. And the fact that I'm doing it during the holiday season and at a time that I am vulnerable to using food as a crutch proves to me that I can do this anytime.

Today I also did a kind of hard thing. I went to meet my mother to go to the movies. I realized on the way there that I have not seen a movie in a theater in over two years. Scary. Five years ago I used to see at least 75 or so movies per year in a theater. With my DVD viewing, I easily watched 200 movies a year. I miss it. Maybe if and when I get my bonus check in January (Yes, my company is still giving those out.), I will rejoin the San Francisco Film Society. Because I do need to take my non-flabby self out to places and all.

I totally survived going to the movies with my mom. While she enjoyed Invictus, she did not like it as much as Blind Side. Me? I would have liked it more if she had not been reciting the poem throughout the movie but I knew it would happen. But how can you not love this?

"I am the master of my fate.
I am the captain of my soul."

It tied in beautifully with watching "Dollhouse" Friday night. Here's where I would put in the warning about plot spoilers and all but I suspect that at this point, I'm the only one watching. Echo met up with a previous engagement -- a guy who wanted her to be his dead wife. The guy had finally moved on in his life and was engaged but when he saw Echo, everything came back for him.

"I thought I was past this."

"You never get past it. It becomes a part of who you are."

So true. And me now? It's all about having a home that I can open up to others. And on days in which there is not a Save the Air warning, a fire in the fireplace. By the way, the screen came from my aunt's house. And so a little bit of her will always be with me. Because sometimes we need to see it. But I know that I carry a little bit of the four women I have lost in these last 15 months or so in me. I would not be who I am today if not for them. And I will never forget this. They taught me to cook, to set a pretty table, to be a gracious hostess, to find joy in being around other people's children. They also taught me that bad things happen but we are survivors and so we move on. It is how we react and not these things themselves that define who we are.


And Flufficat, Boris and Natasha would like to thank Teddy and Kiki for their Hanukkah gifts. As you can see, the blue fluffy thing was big hit. Of course after one hour, it no longer exists. Because my cats are all gangsta like that.

What I meant to say

I was later showing up at my dad's party than I had planned. It was all because I got sucked in by the movie The Power of One. I read the book almost twenty years ago and frequently refuse to get sucked in by the movie. Because I know it will make me angry. And so yeah, I was angry by the end of the the movie -- for the the things that others may have taken for granted. You know? Like being able to fill out a ballot form and have it count for something?

Because while I was driving up to Napa, all I could think was that some of us have achieved a great deal (and somehow no one knows of our achievements except our small group) but the rest of us hang in limbo. And this limbo seems to be defined by who will get credit.

And so this is how I started my Saturday. This is what I wanted to share with someone, anyone. But I let it all go on my way to the party. I imagined what it would be but that didn't mean that that would be what it was.

But it was. On some level at least. In the course of the party, I met at least one
African American who would awe you. I know that I was completely awed and I'm one jaded bitch. It was like what Emerald and I discussed -- why is it when a person of color does something incredible, it rarely makes it into the history books? Because that's what watching The Power of One brings out in me -- the feeling that anything that I do because of "who I am," will be diminished as such.

The estate in my photos? It's a near mirror of the dream home I imagined at age 11. I wonder how different the world would be if I had seen all of this at age 13 as opposed to age 43.

And then there's that other point -- being exposed to such a great measure of wealth. Here's the thing. Every time I hear the word "wealth" in my mind, I hear the words "noblesse oblige" as the resounding chorus.

Whenever I use the term "privilege," others are quick to look at my upbringing. Yes, I have been charmed but privileged? Privilege to me is a political term. Privilege is what stops a police officer from pulling you over because you are the correct complexion. What I really love is that most of the time the folks who will tell you this is not true, have never had to experience this special kind of degradation, humiliation, this feeling that while you are the descendant of people who have been here for several generations, you are a pox on society. You don't think this is true? Well look at the scorn that recent immigrants have upon the descendants of slaves in this country. Thank you to the dominant culture for once more reminding us of our place. Must really piss the hell out of you that an African American man is now President of this country. And here's the honest thing. Most of us voted for him and every day we fear for his life.

Because we have spent too many years seeing what happens to an African
American man who speaks his mind. In my every day life, I do the same. I don't want to be the "dumb" or "too volatile" African American woman so sometimes I hold my tongue. Of course that volatility thing is often attributed to any woman who speaks out against the status quo. I am proud to be a part of these women.

And this is all that I wanted to discuss on Saturday. But no one was available. And so I was left with the only person upon whom I've ever been able to depend -- myself. And this made me frustrated and sad. Because I knew that I wanted to speak truth and to make change. But can you really do that with an audience of one? And so my tears were a mixture of sadness and frustration.

Looking back

It's a new year and I suppose we're supposed to take a look back. Here's my look.

Your result for The Director Who Films Your Life Test...

Steven Soderbergh

Your film will be 56% romantic, 34% comedy, 43% complex plot, and a $ 18 million budget.

Filmography: Sex Lies and Videotape, Traffic, Ocean's Eleven, Ocean's Twelve, Erin Brockovich, and various other homemade independent films. He may just want to follow you around for a few months and construct a film out of that. Your humor is either dry or non-existant, but your life is somewhat exciting romantically because you're "bad." At least you'll be surrounded by the best-looking people who will be cast as your friends, who in real life are probably just as good-looking. Then when he wins the Academy Award for your film, he won't have to make anymore "Ocean's" films.

Take The Director Who Films Your Life Test at HelloQuizzy

And what do you know? I got one my fave directors. Well, until recently. But he'll redeem himself with my life story.

Kiki takes a break

You know how kids sometimes have problems saying a name? Well, to the Commander I am "Kiki." When she first started calling me that, I thought to myself, "Isn't that a stripper name?" Then I remembered that that particular girl had behaved more like a hooker than a stripper. Now I hear this.

"Kiki? Kiki-kins? Who's smoking? I smell smoke. Is someone smoking within a six mile radius of where I'm standing! Stop them Kiki, stop them!"

And today I realized that I have been hearing that voice since before I met the Commander. Yes, I spent the morning of my day off on yet another of my mother's wild goose chase kind of errands. Because it's no problem to drive to Richmond and then to Mill Valley. While completing the errands, a thought crossed my mind. Kiki deserves a reward.


About ten years ago, I stopped going out for New Year's Eve. That's when I started my own tradition. I head out early in the day to shop for "snacks." Around eight or so in the evening, I put my tray together. Then I sit myself down in front of the TV to start the DVD viewing. The idea is that I graze from the tray over four hours or so.

Oh, and Happy New Year to all of you! May the evening be safe and fun for you.

Why I can't lose weight

I spent most of my weekend immersed in Facebook. And movies. The movies thing is perfectly normal. The Facebook thing? Makes me want to do a road trip to Santa Cruz to slap the friend who cajoled me into signing up. After all these years, she should know how obsessive I can become about things.

And yes, the movie viewing continued on Sunday. This is one of the few movies for which I actually own the soundtrack -- and listen to it in its entirety. Oh, and that spunky female vocalist in the video? Yep. Renee Zellweger.


And looky. I actually made it out of the house on Sunday. (This was after being holed up since Thursday night.) The Poulet food was starting to run low. I needed more food. (Shush. I know the freezer is still pretty full but I've actually eaten a few items from it.) And usually I feel a wee bit guilty about heading to Astronomico's but then I read this. Besides Berkeley Bowl was still closed for the holidays. (Here's the full top 10 list.) The cool thing is that Astronomico's color codes the seafood -- green, yellow, and red. The majority of what I buy is green. Occasionally I delve into yellow. But I never do red. I kept thinking that I wanted some sort of seafood. Reading the article made it a done deal.

I've made the mussels before but this time the store did not have any fresh chives. Once I had my heart set on the mussels, I kept trying to think of a side dish. And then I saw the recipe of the day on Epicurious. Seemed perfect to me. So perfect that I think that it can be eaten on its on. Now one person did comment about wanting to substitute another cheese since gruyere can be pricy. But I already had some in the fridge waiting to be transformed into something. And oh no. I just realized that I forgot the hot sauce. That's OK though. It was still damn tasty. Also there was no arugula in the store. I'm starting think that it is some sort of conspiracy. If I find a recipe calling for arugula, there won't be any around. I used baby spinach instead. The bread was the country batard from Astronomico's bakery. The bacon was the applewood smoked from Niman Ranch.

And here's an argument that I throw out to all those foodies out there. A great deal of the time I eat what is seasonal. Of course, I eat out a great deal and in the Gourmet Ghetto, they're all about seasonal. Because of this, I happen to buy things that are local as well. So here's an idea. Instead of saying to folks to buy local, tell them to buy the seasonal stuff. If you're in an agricultural area, it means that you are probably buying local stuff as well. If not? It's the first step to buying locally. I dunno. I've had a few days off from work and plenty of time to think about a variety of subjects -- including how people behind various causes could make their causes more palatable to the general public. And maybe not so elitist. (Yeah, I said the "e" word. What about it?) What can I say? The upcoming inauguration has me crazy and all. I keep thinking to myself, "But I want everyone to feel welcome..."

But that's right. Shonda and I said that we would not start any weight loss efforts until after the New Year. I still have a few more days of eating to go. Because I've decided to allow myself at least a few more days of emotional eating. And if you have a problem with it? Well, I have something that you can kiss.

And yes, for the last time. If you come to visit, I will indeed feed you.

I hate Paris... *

Yesterday was one of those the-weather-sucks-just-like-the-holiday-season-does-and-my-hormones-are-messing-with-my-head kind of days. You know what's really good on those kinds of days? Besides really good food. Yep, movies. It dawned on me that the answer was in yesterday's quiz. But I wasn't in the mood for 16 Candles. Nope it was more of a French Kiss kind of day. And then I decided to just make a marathon of it.

Normally I'd go all romantic comedy. This time around French Kiss was about the only thing to make the cut in that group. What I wanted was comedy and violence. Really cool if both were combined in one movie. So without further ado, I give you yesterday's feel good DVDs.

1. French Kiss -- I love the argument over "La Mer" at the end.

2. Uncle Buck -- Yes, I love 16 Candles but this is by far my favorite John Hughes flick.

3. The Complete Denis Leary -- If this doesn't make you laugh, then I don't know what to suggest. Works for me every time.

Or that whole discussion on throat cancer and the electronic voice box. I had an uncle who had one. He was annoying as hell. (He was annoying before the cancer.) One day my aunt mentioned having to recharge the batteries because they were almost dead and they were about to hit the road on a two-hour drive. My uncle was the worst kind of backseat driver. My reaction was, "Why the hell would you want to recharge the things? I say bury the batteries in the backyard."

What? You don't understand. This guy made my Uncle Crickity Crack seem almost sane. (By the way, thank you, Zombie Mom, for that great name.) Oh yeah. Now I remember why. Because he had been an actual crackhead while Crickity Crack just has some crackhead tendencies. And now you're probably asking why I would want to spend the holidays around these folks. It's all about the stories, people. And the ability to respond when someone sees something on TV that they just can't believe, "Oh no. People actually do/say that kind of stuff. I'm related to some of them in fact."

4. Fear of a Black Hat -- The first of the mockumentaries in my viewing list. The booty as a political statement? Need I say more?


5. Drop Dead Gorgeous -- Used to think this one was a mockumentary until this year's election.

6. Best in Show -- So many things. Starbuck's. Outfits on dogs. Yellow bees. And how many kimonos should one really pack for a trip?

7. The Last Supper -- C'mon. Haven't you ever wondered what the world would be like if some people had never had the opportunity to come to power? Not that most of us would act on these thoughts. And then there's the whole roommate dynamic thing. Next time I watch this, I'm going to pair it with Shallow Grave. That is if I watch it again. This was by far Natasha's favorite of the day. I'm a little worried.

8. Serial Mom -- Probably my favorite John Waters flick. I like to sing along with the Barry Manilow songs. And to yell at the Patty Hearst character, "There's a reason why we have a color named 'winter white!'"

9. Transporter 2 -- I would have gone with the first one but I've seen it in the last couple of weeks. Every now and then a girl just needs some car chases and some basic ass whoopings. Leaves me with a nice warm glow.

10. La Femme Nikita -- Not that bullshit American remake but the original French movie.

After I came up with my viewing list, I realized that once more I had unconsciously created bookends. In case you didn't know, it would be the presence of Jean Reno. Almost made me want to throw The Professional into the middle of the mix. Next time. What the hell. Maybe I'll watch it today. Once you've caught two Luc Besson movies back-to-back, it's hard to stop.



Boris and Natasha are really down with the DVD marathons as well. We each have our own spot on the bed.

What are some of your feel good movies/DVDs?

* I'm not really sure if I hate Paris since I've never been there. But I do love Cole Porter.

Trapped in the 80s

Your result for The Ultimate Sixteen Candles Quiz...

Gnarly

You scored 100% You need to take a break from the 80's and join the rest of us in the 21st century!

Take The Ultimate Sixteen Candles Quiz at HelloQuizzy

We won't even discuss my deep love of this movie. We won't talk about how I made clothes for myself in the mid-80s that were based upon the fashions that Molly Ringwald wore in John Hughes' movies. We won't talk about how Emerald and I used to say that we should have a girls' weekend centered around the 80s teen films of John Hughes.

Yep. We're going to ignore all of this and decide that my score was a complete fluke.