mindy kaling's book is a delight: funny yet surprisingly profound at certain turns. i loved the chapter on 'men and boys', finding myself resonating with some of her revelations and confessions. here's a great excerpt:
Until I was thirty, I only dated boys, as far as I can tell. I'll tell you why. Men scared the shit out of me.
Men know what they want. Men make concrete plans. Men own alarm clocks. Men sleep on a mattress that isn't on the floor. Men tip generously. Men buy new shampoo instead of adding water to a nearly empty bottle of shampoo. Men go to the dentist. Men make reservations. Men go in for a kiss without giving you some long preamble about how they're thinking of kissing you. Men wear clothes that have never been worn by anyone else before. (Okay, maybe men aren't exactly like this. this is what I've cobbled together from the handful of men I know or know of, ranging from Heathcliff Huxtable to Theodore Roosevelt to my dad.) Men know what they want and they don't let you in on their inner monologue, and that is scary.
Because what I was used to was boys.
Boys are adorable. Boys trail off their sentences in an appealing way. Boys bring a knapsack to work. Boys get haircuts from their roommate, who "totally knows how to cut hair." Boys can pack up their whole life in a duffel bag and move to Brooklyn for a gig if they need to. Boys have "gigs." Boys are broke. And when they do have money, they spend it on a trip to Colorado to see a music festival. Boys don't know how to adjust their conversation when they're talking to their friends or to your parents. They put parents on the same level as their peers and roll their eyes when your dad makes a terrible pun. Boys let your parents pay for dinner when you all go out. It's assumed.
Boys are wonderful in a lot of ways. They make amazing, memorable, homemade gifts. They're impulsive. Boys can talk for hours with you in a diner at three in the morning because they don't have regular work hours. But they suck to date when you turn thirty.
- Mindy Kaling, Is Everyone Hanging Out With Me? (And Other Concerns)
my mantra now that i'm comfortably situated in my mid-30's: "date men, not boys."
cups of coffee: 3
mood: relaxed
Showing posts with label book it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book it. Show all posts
Monday, September 2, 2013
Sunday, August 28, 2011
spirit of food
i first mentioned the spirt of food back in september and am finally getting around to reading it. absolutely sumptuous: eloquent storytelling, deep spiritual insights, and truths small and simple but richly profound. 34 writers exploring the connections between community and God through food. i cannot stop raving about this book - it is akin to eating a delicious meal that you wish would never end and one that you want all your friends to partake in.
each chapter (an individual essay) provides so much fodder for thoughtful digestion. here's one of my favorite passages, quoting from robert farrar capon's (a talented chef and episcopalian priest) book, the supper of the lamb:
"For all its greatness, the created order cries out for further greatness still. The most splendid dinner, the most exquisite food, the most gratifying company, arouse more appetites than they satisfy. They do not slake a man's thirst for being; they whet it beyond all bounds."
the whetting of our appetites, the insatiable desire that longs beyond the things of this world for something more glorious and everlasting....this is the holy hunger of mankind - the hunger for God Himself. the hunger for beauty that bursts the very seams of our metaphorical bellies, desiring for the thing that fills us to rapturous overflowing.
in our fallen world, what we experience is what capon terms "the inconsolable heartburn":
"The Inconsolable Heartburn...by which the heart looks out astonished at the world and in its loving, wakes and breaks at once." the longing for the here and not yet.
this passage from the chapter written by karen baldwin sums up the essence behind my love for food and hospitality:
"On nights like that night in Colorado, we've orchestrated dinners for a crowd of our children's friends, and on other nights we've eaten a quiet meal with just the two of us. And in the same spirit of openness, invitation and hospitality we like to begin each meal by thanking God and lifting our friends up before the one who invites us to come and eat of the bread of life that he gives. Our friends may not share our deepest convictions, they may not understand the great significance we place in this time at the table, but we can't recall any expectant mothers or anxious students declining our request to pray for them. So we never feel timid about raising a glass of wine or a plate heaped with fragrant food, and then, with simple gratitude and joy, extolling the Creator who celebrated his creative power and genius by resting and blessing his handiwork. And as we say amen, we recognize that in our Creator's image, we have also completed a work of preparation, and so we enter into a celebration-rest together at the table where there is both food to nourish our bodies and fellowship to revive our souls."
- karen baldwin, the spirit of food
cups of coffee: 1 + 1 green tea with lemon
mood: hungry
each chapter (an individual essay) provides so much fodder for thoughtful digestion. here's one of my favorite passages, quoting from robert farrar capon's (a talented chef and episcopalian priest) book, the supper of the lamb:
"For all its greatness, the created order cries out for further greatness still. The most splendid dinner, the most exquisite food, the most gratifying company, arouse more appetites than they satisfy. They do not slake a man's thirst for being; they whet it beyond all bounds."
the whetting of our appetites, the insatiable desire that longs beyond the things of this world for something more glorious and everlasting....this is the holy hunger of mankind - the hunger for God Himself. the hunger for beauty that bursts the very seams of our metaphorical bellies, desiring for the thing that fills us to rapturous overflowing.
in our fallen world, what we experience is what capon terms "the inconsolable heartburn":
"The Inconsolable Heartburn...by which the heart looks out astonished at the world and in its loving, wakes and breaks at once." the longing for the here and not yet.
this passage from the chapter written by karen baldwin sums up the essence behind my love for food and hospitality:
"On nights like that night in Colorado, we've orchestrated dinners for a crowd of our children's friends, and on other nights we've eaten a quiet meal with just the two of us. And in the same spirit of openness, invitation and hospitality we like to begin each meal by thanking God and lifting our friends up before the one who invites us to come and eat of the bread of life that he gives. Our friends may not share our deepest convictions, they may not understand the great significance we place in this time at the table, but we can't recall any expectant mothers or anxious students declining our request to pray for them. So we never feel timid about raising a glass of wine or a plate heaped with fragrant food, and then, with simple gratitude and joy, extolling the Creator who celebrated his creative power and genius by resting and blessing his handiwork. And as we say amen, we recognize that in our Creator's image, we have also completed a work of preparation, and so we enter into a celebration-rest together at the table where there is both food to nourish our bodies and fellowship to revive our souls."
- karen baldwin, the spirit of food
cups of coffee: 1 + 1 green tea with lemon
mood: hungry
Thursday, April 7, 2011
and now for something completely random
if i could be any literary character, hands down, it would be anne shirley of "anne of green gables." i had a conversation the other day with a male friend who described her as a perfect role model for young women. i completely agree with him. she is intelligent, passionate, determined, yet also incredibly caring, sacrificial and tender. i strive to embody those characteristics as well but find myself identifying with her fiery temper more often than not...
as for literary heroes, my crush is atticus finch from "to kill a mockingbird" (one of my favorite books of all times) - especially the portrayal played by gregory peck in the 1962 film version. *sigh*
cups of coffee: 2+
mood: sleepy
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
feasting
i love food. love it. always have, always will. it's not just the eating - though that's pretty spectacular - it's everything associated with a meal. i love the preparation: mulling over recipes, shopping for all the right ingredients, visiting the vegetable market with tote in hand, checking the leafy freshness of spinach, squeezing tomatoes, picking through bulbs of red onions... i LOVE the cooking process. i love rolling up my sleeves and getting my hands caked in everything from flour to oil to spices and the occasional meat juices. i love the sounds of cooking: the quick sizzle of oil on a hot pan, the gentle murmur that crescendoes into aggressive bubbling of boiling water, the comforting grind of the pepper mill. and the smells - oh, the SMELLS! i love knowing a dish so well that you know, intuitively by the smell, whether it's ready or not. i love setting the table and selecting the right serving dishes, the clink of silverware and pristine white of my matching plates.
most of all, i love the company and conversations that surround meals. i was raised in a family where we always had dinner together, no matter how busy everyone was. it was always around the dinner table, never in front of the television. it was an unwritten rule in our home that dinner was always enjoyed with loved ones and served with conversation.
i love that my parents instilled that value in me, and i suppose that's where my inclination for hospitality arose. it's hard to think of a good meal without the company of good friends. strangers may sit down at the table, but rarely do you leave a table without having built some rapport. it's no wonder that in traditional cultures, deals are made and promises sworn at the banquet table.
i was reminded of this when mako was in town. during our trip to nanjing, the chair of the international program at nanjing arts institute invited our group for a meal. the restaurant was tucked down an inconspicuous lane, hid in an ultra-modern building sleek with glass and steel. the restaurant served chinese cuisine though it was decked out in uber-luxe faux-art-deco-meets-victorian-era decor. imagine plush purple velvet lounge couches with giant chandeliers. and four birthday balloons drooping on one wall, forlornly out of place.
the food was served with great attention to detail and attempts at artistic flair: sweet and sour chicken served in half a pineapple emflambe, succulent chicken deboned (a rarity in china), and an interesting combination of a meat pastry with a sweet sesame dessert soup, to name a few memorable dishes. but it wasn't the food that stuck out to me, delicious as it was. what stayed with me from that luncheon was the courtesy displayed, the respect and mutual admiration exhibited by the parties involved.
working in the chinese art world for a few years has taught me several invaluable skills including the art of holding my liquor at dinner parties. i've had to make and accept many a toast from museum officials, distinguished guests, artists, etc., and when the chinese toast, a sign of respect is to empty your glass. no one ever gets embarrassingly sloshed from such behavior, but most do turn lobster red after a meal (thanks to that asian drinking gene most of us have inherited....).
this particular luncheon was no different. there is an art involved, a dance i've had to learn to perfect (and am still perfecting). always aim your glass low - it's a sign of respect. a toast always ends up like some sort of glassware limbo, trying to outdo each other in how low you clink your glass. the host usually starts with some general toast to everyone, and then begins to singularly toast the guests in some sort of hierarchy (usually working from most important, or most essential to the event at hand, down). the toasts are scattered throughout the meal, so you wait and watch. and then it's your turn to reciprocate, and the polite thing is to toast those who've toasted to you, in a similar order. and of course, you can toast anyone else you want as well - it's a form of bestowing favor and respect. but you also have to gauge the toastee's glass. since they will want to honor you by emptying their glass, i try to time my toast with the level of their drink - too high and it may end messy, too low and it's not much of a toast.
after plenty of toasting and kind words at the luncheon, we left the table with relationships established and agreements made. though no papers were signed, no official partnerships were formed, there was an air of understanding that there will be future collaborations and a level of trust had been reached.
food builds community and was meant to be enjoyed in community. every feast we indulge in points to a perfect, beautiful feast we will enjoy for all of eternity. it's not only the food we'll enjoy but perfect, beautiful fellowship and unbroken communion with God and one another. what a lovely thing. :)
one last note - two recent publications on this theme of food worth savoring:
- The Spirit of Food: i found out about this book through the Image Journal's newsletter. from organic farms to kosher kitchens, 34 writers share stories and recipes about the ways food draw us closer to community, God and creation. i've already placed an order and can't wait to read it!
- Saveur Magazine: 25 Greatest Meals Ever: 25 food writers share their most memorable food experiences, including some recipes.
cups of coffee: 1 + 2 green tea
mood: o joy!
most of all, i love the company and conversations that surround meals. i was raised in a family where we always had dinner together, no matter how busy everyone was. it was always around the dinner table, never in front of the television. it was an unwritten rule in our home that dinner was always enjoyed with loved ones and served with conversation.
i love that my parents instilled that value in me, and i suppose that's where my inclination for hospitality arose. it's hard to think of a good meal without the company of good friends. strangers may sit down at the table, but rarely do you leave a table without having built some rapport. it's no wonder that in traditional cultures, deals are made and promises sworn at the banquet table.
i was reminded of this when mako was in town. during our trip to nanjing, the chair of the international program at nanjing arts institute invited our group for a meal. the restaurant was tucked down an inconspicuous lane, hid in an ultra-modern building sleek with glass and steel. the restaurant served chinese cuisine though it was decked out in uber-luxe faux-art-deco-meets-victorian-era decor. imagine plush purple velvet lounge couches with giant chandeliers. and four birthday balloons drooping on one wall, forlornly out of place.
the food was served with great attention to detail and attempts at artistic flair: sweet and sour chicken served in half a pineapple emflambe, succulent chicken deboned (a rarity in china), and an interesting combination of a meat pastry with a sweet sesame dessert soup, to name a few memorable dishes. but it wasn't the food that stuck out to me, delicious as it was. what stayed with me from that luncheon was the courtesy displayed, the respect and mutual admiration exhibited by the parties involved.
working in the chinese art world for a few years has taught me several invaluable skills including the art of holding my liquor at dinner parties. i've had to make and accept many a toast from museum officials, distinguished guests, artists, etc., and when the chinese toast, a sign of respect is to empty your glass. no one ever gets embarrassingly sloshed from such behavior, but most do turn lobster red after a meal (thanks to that asian drinking gene most of us have inherited....).
this particular luncheon was no different. there is an art involved, a dance i've had to learn to perfect (and am still perfecting). always aim your glass low - it's a sign of respect. a toast always ends up like some sort of glassware limbo, trying to outdo each other in how low you clink your glass. the host usually starts with some general toast to everyone, and then begins to singularly toast the guests in some sort of hierarchy (usually working from most important, or most essential to the event at hand, down). the toasts are scattered throughout the meal, so you wait and watch. and then it's your turn to reciprocate, and the polite thing is to toast those who've toasted to you, in a similar order. and of course, you can toast anyone else you want as well - it's a form of bestowing favor and respect. but you also have to gauge the toastee's glass. since they will want to honor you by emptying their glass, i try to time my toast with the level of their drink - too high and it may end messy, too low and it's not much of a toast.
after plenty of toasting and kind words at the luncheon, we left the table with relationships established and agreements made. though no papers were signed, no official partnerships were formed, there was an air of understanding that there will be future collaborations and a level of trust had been reached.
food builds community and was meant to be enjoyed in community. every feast we indulge in points to a perfect, beautiful feast we will enjoy for all of eternity. it's not only the food we'll enjoy but perfect, beautiful fellowship and unbroken communion with God and one another. what a lovely thing. :)
one last note - two recent publications on this theme of food worth savoring:
- The Spirit of Food: i found out about this book through the Image Journal's newsletter. from organic farms to kosher kitchens, 34 writers share stories and recipes about the ways food draw us closer to community, God and creation. i've already placed an order and can't wait to read it!
- Saveur Magazine: 25 Greatest Meals Ever: 25 food writers share their most memorable food experiences, including some recipes.
cups of coffee: 1 + 2 green tea
mood: o joy!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
mission accomplished
i did it. i completed 'the goethe project'....give or take a few days. for the most part, i blogged every day for the past 30 days, reflecting on beauty and meaning through some aspect of art, music or literature.
what did i learn from this practice?
1) beauty is everywhere. everywhere. this is nothing new but all too easily forgotten. as cheesy as it sounds, sometimes we really are too busy to stop and smell the roses. maybe we begin to find the roses annoying, or we just tell ourselves we hate roses anyway. and we barrel onwards, frantic and frazzled.
this past month was one of the craziest months i've ever experienced, in the sense that all things personal and professional culminated in one massive consuming storm of a schedule. how fitting that the goethe project forced me to stop and meditate each day--even for a few minutes, on things beautiful and life-giving.
2) insight comes with discipline and the rigor of intentionality. surface observation is easy: the grass is green, the water is cold, the cat is fat. but to connect the dots between the details, to analyze and slice through the obvious to reveal the core - that is quite challenging. i sometimes have the eyes to see but not the heart to feel. other times, i feel things strongly but totally miss the forest for the trees. i think practicing both capacities in tandem and learning to give things time (such a valuable trait!) builds insight.
3) both beauty and despair point to the world that ought to be. both feed the sour ache inside us, the longing to be where all this beauty comes from or where sorrow and despair have no place.
4) it's fun to be writing more consistently again, even it's just a blurb here and there.
i hope to be blogging more...even if not daily, then at least more frequently. more than that, i hope this practice began building a more consistent habit of appreciation and meditation particularly in the throes of busyness.
on another note, happily searching through amazon.com for books i want to purchase this summer when i'm home. here's what i have so far:
voluntary simplicity: toward a way of life that is outwardly simple, inwardly rich
a way of working: the spiritual dimension of craft
the $12 million stuffed shark: the curious economics of contemporary art
four seasons in five senses: things worth savoring (i am especially excited about this book - reminds me of writing assignments in college where we had to write descriptively about mundane activities such as making a peanut butter sandwich, eating a peach, etc.)
hmmmm. apparently all the books i want to get are non-fiction and possess super-long titles.
cups of coffee: 1 1/2
mood: fidgety
what did i learn from this practice?
1) beauty is everywhere. everywhere. this is nothing new but all too easily forgotten. as cheesy as it sounds, sometimes we really are too busy to stop and smell the roses. maybe we begin to find the roses annoying, or we just tell ourselves we hate roses anyway. and we barrel onwards, frantic and frazzled.
this past month was one of the craziest months i've ever experienced, in the sense that all things personal and professional culminated in one massive consuming storm of a schedule. how fitting that the goethe project forced me to stop and meditate each day--even for a few minutes, on things beautiful and life-giving.
2) insight comes with discipline and the rigor of intentionality. surface observation is easy: the grass is green, the water is cold, the cat is fat. but to connect the dots between the details, to analyze and slice through the obvious to reveal the core - that is quite challenging. i sometimes have the eyes to see but not the heart to feel. other times, i feel things strongly but totally miss the forest for the trees. i think practicing both capacities in tandem and learning to give things time (such a valuable trait!) builds insight.
3) both beauty and despair point to the world that ought to be. both feed the sour ache inside us, the longing to be where all this beauty comes from or where sorrow and despair have no place.
4) it's fun to be writing more consistently again, even it's just a blurb here and there.
i hope to be blogging more...even if not daily, then at least more frequently. more than that, i hope this practice began building a more consistent habit of appreciation and meditation particularly in the throes of busyness.
on another note, happily searching through amazon.com for books i want to purchase this summer when i'm home. here's what i have so far:
voluntary simplicity: toward a way of life that is outwardly simple, inwardly rich
a way of working: the spiritual dimension of craft
the $12 million stuffed shark: the curious economics of contemporary art
four seasons in five senses: things worth savoring (i am especially excited about this book - reminds me of writing assignments in college where we had to write descriptively about mundane activities such as making a peanut butter sandwich, eating a peach, etc.)
hmmmm. apparently all the books i want to get are non-fiction and possess super-long titles.
cups of coffee: 1 1/2
mood: fidgety
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
the alchemist
finally getting around to reading the alchemist, which is a nice quick read. beautifully and simply written, lovely fable of life. shepherd boy, deserts, camel caravans, ancient pyramids, mysterious old king, a quest to fulfill.....all the elements of magical storytelling. how i love a good story!
i love this quote:
"We are afraid of losing what we have, whether it's our life or our possessions and property. But this fear evaporates when we understand that our life stories and the history of the world were written by the same hand."
cups of coffee: 1
mood: giving in....going to the expo today....
i love this quote:
"We are afraid of losing what we have, whether it's our life or our possessions and property. But this fear evaporates when we understand that our life stories and the history of the world were written by the same hand."
cups of coffee: 1
mood: giving in....going to the expo today....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)