I'm so not cool.

The other day, I overheard some Germans talking about the general uncoolness of bloggers and big sunglasses.

Germans: "What's with those people who write their lives on the internet? Nobody cares."

Me: "..."

Guess I'm officially the German definition of laaame.

But that does lead me to the question: why do I blog? Nobody does care. But there is something deeply satisfying, for me, about pressing computer keys and writing and seeing it all on a lovely webpage, looking professional and nice, though it's really not. I also happen to know that friends and family who I do not have much contact with are able to read my blog and know that I am continuing to function, and this is somehow comforting. Sometimes I feel that, by keeping up a blog, I am staying connected to people who have meant a lot to me in my life.

So I must genuinely conclude that, despite being lame by non-blogging standards, I do not find my blog so strange and pointless. Well, sometimes.

In other news, Christmas was lovely, complete with an adorable meal of raclette. What is adorable about melted cheese over vegetables/meat/potatoes? It's all in the prep work. Here in Germany, it is fairly common to have a raclette grill, which is a table-top George Forman-style contraption that comes with cute, tiny square pans shaped perfectly for cheese slices and small pieces of vegetable. Half of the fun in this meal is thinking of good flavor combinations and assembling all the ingredients in the tiny pans. Also, what doesn't taste good with melted cheese all over it? One of the aspects of food that Germans really know about is cheese--I don't think I've had bad cheese since I've been here. Even the cheese at Subway is a cut (or several) above the crap we have in America.

Speaking of America, I never thought of myself as a "gluttonous American." But now I realize that, without my own knowledge, I have been imbibed with the American need for things to be big. I mean, ok, not cars or streets or orders of French fries. Specifically, drinks. And even more specifically, coffee. I have noticed in myself a tendency toward annoyance when paying 2 Euro for a small cup of coffee and receiving 6 oz. of joe brewed in a Nescafé machine. I mean, for the same price in the New World, I can get a 12 oz. latte made by a person using locally roasted beans. Blah blah blah, I sound like a damn coffee snob. Hell, I am a damn coffee snob. But when I want a cup of coffee, I want a cup of coffee. Deshalb, I am now drinking coffee almost exclusively at home, where I can drink two cups kostenlos. Sometimes I miss the latté ritual, though.

Last night, I made the most perfect massaman curry! I've found this great Chinese grocery store in Düsseldorf called Ho's, and they have the dangerously hot kind of chilis, sweet potatoes, those little round green eggplants, FRESH TOFU (holy crap, I was tempted) and sweet Thai basil. Of course, they have much more than that, but those are just samplings of the supplies necessary for Asian cooking they provide. Anyway, yesterday I decided that I was in the mood for curry--I'd bought massaman curry paste a few months ago, and hadn't even opened it yet. So I headed out to Ho's and picked up some supplies I was lacking: tofu (packaged, but still locally made), sweet basil, Thai jasmine rice, ginger, a purple-skinned sweet potato,  package of about 30 chilies, tiny onions (this is a little embarrassing, but I thought they were shallots because I grabbed them really quickly without looking as I was getting into the insanely long line behind three guys buying 50 Euros worth of bok choy). All of it only cost me around 8 Euros--a total steal!

Got home, cooked, and loved it. This is really the first time I've eaten home-made Thai curry since I left the U.S., and it was sooo unbelievably comforting. Here's a recipe (sort of), if anyone cares:

1 nice knob of fresh ginger, peeled

8 or 9 tiny red onions (or use three shallots, like I wanted to do)

3 Tablespoons curry paste (doesn't have to be massaman, as this isn't really authentic massaman curry, anyway)

1 Tablespoon brown sugar

1 cup coconut milk (or more--personal preference thing)

A little water (you might need it to thin the curry out at some point)

Salt (if you add water, you will probably need to add a bit of salt)

Any/all veggies that you want (I used a couple small carrots, a small-ish sweet potato, broccoli, corn, red bell pepper)

Your choice of protein (I chose tofu)

2 really fucking spicy tiny green Thai chilies, seeds removed (unless you are one of those people who wants to sweat and tear up while they're eating, in which case I recommend leaving the seeds in and possibly adding a third or fourth pepper). I like spicy, but my tongue isn't that numbed yet. And seriously, I had never cooked with these before, so I touched the very tip of my tongue to the pith, and it actually went numb. And then burned.

With a little oil, sautee the onions, chilies and ginger with one tablespoon curry paste and a little salt. After the onions are suitably cooked down, add two more tablespoons paste, breaking it up and stirring around. Immediately add coconut milk, and some water if you want. Simmer. Add ingredients like carrots and sweet potato that take a long time to cook through. Let simmer. Slowly add all of the other veggies, in the order of how long it takes them to cook. Basically, everything just needs to cook all the way through in the simmering curry sauce. When everything is the softness you prefer, the curry is done. I'm not the most organized cooker--I just kind of taste and add a little salt here, a dash more coconut milk there, a splash of water to even things out. So this recipe is more of an illustration of what I did yesterday evening than anything someone could use. But curry is so subjective anyway--everyone likes to make it a different way, with different add-ins and portions of the basics.

I'll definitely be making this again soon. It's not very much work, it tastes great, and it can be stretched to feed many people, or one person many nights in a row. It's also relatively cheap (especially if using Tofu rather than meat). And can I just rave for a couple seconds about this tofu I bought? Though I was tempted by the fresh tofu in plastic bags, it seemed a little more sensible to take a package on the train. But this tofu is so much more fresh and flavorful than what I'm used to buying in the U.S. Its taste is creamy (almost buttery) and subtle but somehow light at the same time. My God, it is good, especially in this curry.

Ok, another boring food post is almost over. Tomorrow is Heilige Abend, the day here in Germany when most people do the presents thing. This is weird to me, as Christmas Eve in America was always the day to sit inside and wrap all of the presents that I had waited until the last minute to buy. Where's the extra day of procrastination here?! I wrapped my last gift today, and I just felt so...early.

Toast, anyone?

You know you really need to clean out the archives of your computer when you start finding pictures like this squirreled away in its cyber-nooks and crannies. I don't even know what this is. I certainly didn't take it. I hope their toast came out alright...

Speaking of fire (I wasn't really, but there's fire in the picture above), it's really beautiful here when night falls, because everyone lights little candles or those big, elaborate paper stars in their windows now that Christmas is approaching. Everyone's windows twinkle welcomingly and it feels almost as if they're lighting a path just for me.

Other things I love about winter here are the warm, good smells wafting in the air--cloves, wine, grilled sausages.

Disclaimer:

My ability to coherently write is suddenly going down the tubes.

I have no idea if this is because of the German, or just because I've actually been writing so much lately that my brain has become overloaded.

From The Archives

Just today, I found this old thing that I wrote when I was around ten years old. I think it's interesting; there are so many buds of ideas expressed, not really fully developed, but relevant to my young mind nevertheless. I find it funny, my experimentation with punctuation. I am fairly sure I had just figured out that one can use the word 'yet' in writing. But the last couple sentences kill me, because I can vividly remember being a little kid, and feeling exactly the way I described. That doesn't really happen to me anymore, and I wonder if, as one gets older, it's easier to accept the idea of an imperfect, unpolished life in a real world. I never realized, year to year as I grew up, how much I changed. But when I go back and read these strange, disjointed passages I can't even remember writing, I know that I have. Hopefully for the better.

The meaning of life

by me

The meaning of life is to live, whether you choose to be mean to other people, or whether you choose to be nice. The meaning of life is different to all people, just as all people are different. All living creatures should be aware of themselves, though. We all have our place in nature, and nature does us a favor, by giving us the land we live on, the food we eat, and also giving air to us. Many people take this for granted, and build factories out where people could be enjoying the subtleness of the world around us. These factories make the air smoggy and bad smelling, and are not good for the nature around them. In other words, these factories are not doing us a big favor. Whoever the corporation is who paid for them to be built is not caring for their country's environment. The meaning of life is to some people, comic. Life, to some people, just goes on and on, nothing really happening. Then you die, and you are no longer able to do anything, and that is the end of that. Other people find life to be an adventure, something new around every corner, whether it be beautiful, horrible, amazing, sad. Some people feel that life is just like a ride at the fair grounds. It loops, and turns, and goes quickly, or smoothly, or bumpy. You might, at times, wish it would stop, at times, wish it would never end. A lot of people don't really think about dying. They just cherish life for all it's worth, and make the most of it, until the end. Some people believe that a part of you lives after death, a part of your conscience, now, part of the universe, part of every person and animal on Earth's life. The meaning of life can be life itself. I often wake up, and don't really see my life in a literal way. It's like I'm looking through a mirror, and I can see everything in my life, yet, I don't really feel as if it's my own. I am, however, aware that this life is mine, and when I stop to think about it, reality hits. It feels as though I'm going down in an elevator, but I'm not standing on my legs. My whole body feels alien to me, and there I am, me, in a real world, in a real life. And it's scary.

There is nothing on a cold, late-autumn day like a hot, bittersweet cup of Kakao.

Woah...

I don't usually post two in one day, but I just realized that "Joe Pastry" says to chill the cookie dough another forty-five minutes after having put it on the baking sheets. I definitely did not do that, and they still turned out amazing. How much more amazing would they be if I had?