Geisha, by Andi Watson. A limited 4-issue series. This comic is drawn in a slick, yet approachable manga style. Jomi is a cyborg who lives as a starving artist. Because she was raised in a human family, she frequently struggles with those who want to pigeonhole her as a mere machine. Especially art critics. It’s a cute story, containing amusing references to 1990s Japanese pop culture (e.g., the Angry Penguin bar à la Bad Badtz Maru).

Gordon Yamamoto and the King of the Geeks, by Gene Yang. My nose runs whenever I eat something hot, cold or spicy. My nose runs and clogs up whenever it is cold, wet or dry outside or inside. This comic is the epitome of nasal fixation, yet also contains keen insight regarding peer pressure. Discovered it APE V, but I still laugh out loud whenever I read it.

The Invisibles, written by Grant Morrison, with artwork by several illustrators. Razor sharp, radical social commentary wrapped in a shiny, explosive package. Members of diverse subcultures (the Invisibles) fight against the conspiracy of the Establishment. This formula can be easily overused and trite, but with The Invisibles it becomes a raunchy adventure, full of idealism, that somehow works.

Keif Llama, Xenotech. Matt Howarth. Keif Llama is a xenotech, who travels the galaxy solving issues amongst sentient aliens from a wild range of backgrounds. For example, investigating the sociobiological needs of gargantuan beings living in an oil-based ocean. Not without pitfalls, the life of a xenotech sounds like a dream job —certainly much better than torturing rodents as a wage slave.

Life in Hell, by Matt Groening. My favorite collection is School is Hell, which I received as a present during college. Indeed, Groening’s observations are strangely accurate, including the declaration that middle school is the “deepest pit of hell,” and how college life boils down to sink-or-swim. Work is Hell and Love is Hell are excellent as well.

Loyola Chin and the San Peligran Order, by Gene Yang. After Gordon Yamamoto, Yang takes weird food combinations and sleep patterns to hilarious heights. I also like the character interactions between Loyola and Gordon. But the ultimate themes regarding faith and unmutable fate? Personally, I strongly disagree. This comic’s religious implications ended up clashing with my sensibilities.

Mister Blank, by Christopher J. Hicks. “What about Sam Smith?” “What about him? He’s a nobody. A bug.” It’s an interesting tale of how a faceless cog becomes the center of an odd conspiracy of biblical proportions. I liked Hicks’ use of clean, pleasant grey-scales, a technique which often looks cheap in other black and white comics.

Mystery Date, by Carla Speed McNeil. I originally found this in Michael Cohen’s Mythography anthology, but McNeil has now collected the stories into a single volume. It’s about Vary, a young woman training to become a prostitute at a prestigious university. She also takes xenology classes, where two of the most intriguing professors challenge her views on romance, sex and (non)human behavior. Some of the Finder characters make an appearance as well.

Amphigorey, Amiphigorey Too and Amphigorey Also, by Edward Gorey (another site describing his works). Gorey was the epitome of intricate, macabre illustration, and these omnibuses gather his work. The first Amphigorey book contains the well-known “Gashlycrumb Tinies,” “The Hapless Child,” which made several of my friends shudder in horror, and “The Insect God,” the inspiration for the eponymous song by the Monks of Doom. I haven’t yet read the recently published collection, Amphigorey Again.

Athena, by Dean Hsieh. It’s neo-future Greece, where the old pantheon of gods haven’t been overthrown by the new generation of gods. Instead, they’ve been downsized. It’s about Athena (my favorite Greek deity), recently fired and now seeking rock’n'roll enlightenment with her mortal pals Kallie and Jay, while attempting to avoid family problems. Hsieh’s style exhibits a strong manga influence, so his art appears cute in a fun, yet ironic way. I’m sad this comic ended after only 14 issues, yet its resolution does satisfy me.

Bizarro, by Dan Piraro. The title describes the comic strip perfectly. The art is detailed, reminding me in some of ways of Gorey’s style. I don’t read Bizarro as often as I used to, but it remains true to itself with its weird and surreal tones, with good doses of whimsy.

The Black Orchid, by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean. This refers the 3-part graphic novelette published in 1988 through 1989, not the series from either the 1970s or 1990s. A compelling, beautifully executed story about a human-plant hybrid who wakes up with amnesia, then searches for her past.

Bloom County, by Berk Breathed. I confess, I never got into Doonesbury; not that I disliked it, just never grokked it. On the other hand, Bloom County, with its animals (perhaps a strong influence by Walt Kelly’s Pogo) and children as social and political commentators, held a special place in my heart during high school and college.

The Chuckling Whatsit, by Richard Sala. A creepy tale of a journalist who takes a temp job as an astrologer, only to discover that previous astrologers have been murdered —a good cross between film noir and the macabre. Sala also did “Invisible Hands” for MTV’s Liquid Telelvision, as well as some artwork for the Residents’ Freakshow interactive CD.

Clan Apis, by Jay Hosler. A 5-issue series about the life of a worker bee in her hive. Beautifully drawn and told by an entomologist, no less. Definitely reminds me of the finer points of biology, in a fun way.

Dyke Strippers, edited by Roz Warren. An excellent anthology of queer woman cartoonists. While this book includes well-known Alison Bechdel (Dykes to Watch Out For) and Diane DiMassa (Hothead Paisan), this collection pleasantly surprised me with many creators I hadn’t heard of before. The two creators I really enjoy are Jennifer Camper, who wrote the hilarious Rude Girls and Dangerous Women, and Ellen Forney, creator of 7 in ‘75. Forney’s “Bi bi Birdie! The trials and tribulations of a young bisexual chick” remains a particularly insightful anecdote, funny and sharp at once.

The Far Side, by Gary Larson. Some comics that poke fun at science often remind me of the worst aspects of science: dry, tedious, obfuscated. This is the fine exception. Larson’s strip is delightfully warped and wacky. After all, Larson was right when he proclaimed, “Birds of prey know they’re cool.”

Salmon tartare with chives, lemon zest and horseradish cream, on toasted whole wheat.

Unlike ceviche where something acidic (e.g., citrus juice, vinegar) chemically cooks the protein, the tartare is served uncooked, like poke or carpaccio —so no acid is used, except in small amounts in the garnish. This recipe makes a generous amount to serve 2 people as a main dish, or 3 to 4 people as a starter.

I could try this with ahi, but it’s not one of my top choices. This kind of dish works with rich, oily fish, so I wonder which white fish would go well in a tartare…

For the tartare

• 6 to 8 ounces fresh, sashimi-grade salmon
• 2 to 3 tablespoons minced scallions, onions or chives
• 2 teaspoons olive oil, garlic oil, sesame oil or other flavored oil
• 1/2 teaspoon lemon or lime zest
• salt and pepper to taste
• (optional) minced basil, parsley or tarragon

Accompaniments

• chopped avocado with lime or lemon juice
• crème fraîche, yogurt, and/or mayo, mixed with horseradish, wasabi and/or mustard
• toast, crackers, chips

Method

1. Rinse the salmon under cold water and pat dry. Remove any skin or bones, then dice it into small pieces, about 1/4 to 1/2 inches.
2. Stir together the salmon, scallions (or other allium), oil and lemon zest in a bowl (preferably glass or ceramic).
3. Season with salt and pepper, add minced herbs if desired, then refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to let the flavors to infuse. Overnight is fine if the fish is particularly fresh.
4. When ready to serve, stir in the lemon juice and herbs, if desired. If using avocado, stir it in as well. If using a creamy sauce, apply dollops to each serving. Eat the tartare with something crunchy and/or toasty.

I’ve divided my reading list geographically, between Western comics (produced by mostly North American creators) and Asian comics; the latter includes both manga (Japanese comics) and manhwa (Korean comics). The number of comics would be maddeningly long if I included the various graphic novels, completed series, and comic strips I’ve enjoyed! Then there are incomplete stories, sadly on hiatus. I’ll cover previously read and incomplete comics in separate articles.

In addition, here’s a summary list of the web comics…

• Digger
• Finder
• Galaxion
• Girl Genius
• Xeno’s Arrow

…As well as a summary list of comics I read in dead tree format.

• Castle Waiting
• A Distant Soil
• Dokebi Bride
• Fruits Basket
• Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service
• Love and Rockets
• Usagi Yogimbo
• Yuri Monogatari

Western comics

Castle Waiting, by Linda Medley. The story seems like something from several Brothers’ Grimm fairy tales. But only on the surface of this exquisitely illustrated, intricately woven narrative. Talking animals going about their lives like normal folk. A Castle that has an infestation of sprites, gremlins, kobolds. The protagonists range from Lady Jain (escaping a nasty family) to Sister Peace (a highly eccentric nun). Medley had put this comic on hold due to financial and publisher issues, but has thankfully returned to a somewhat regular publication from Fantagraphics. The creator’s site seems erratically available, down as of this writing.

Digger, by Ursula Vernon (older site at Metal and Magic). What do you get when you combine an atheist wombat, an ostracized hyena and an orphaned demon? A fun, weird story. In addition, Vernon’s illustration technique evokes a dark moodiness, reminding me of drawings derived from rubbing or scraping away ink. Digger is a webcomic in which the first 285 pages are free to view; more current pages require a paid subscription. She has published three books collecting the series, although I don’t know when the fourth one will be in print.

A Distant Soil, by Colleen Doran (creator’s blog). An epic involving alien societies (such as the arrogant Ovanon), beings from Arthurian and Faerie realms, and, at the center of it all, Ovanan-human hybrids. Nearly three decades in production, this comic has been a pleasure to read: from watching how Doran’s style has matured (reminding me of John R. Neill’s art from Baum’s Oz books), to watching the story progress. The series is available in four books: The Gathering, The Ascendant, The Aria and Coda. Doran is currently working on both the final arc, Requiem, as well as a prequel, Seasons of Spring.

Finder, by Carla Speed McNeil. A complex set of stories, involving complex societies. McNeil has said “Finder blends fantasy, science fiction, and human drama… Jaeger, the main character, is a different sort of detective, being both a tracker and a survivalist. Finder follows him on his travels, revealing both his life and the unfolding world he lives in.” My favorites include Talisman, which focuses on Marcie, a bookish young friend of Jaeger’s, and King of the Cats, which beautifully shows the harsh contrast between indigent and wealthy peoples. Check out free graphic novel previews, as well as her current arc on the website.

Galaxion, by Tara Tallan (creator’s blog). Well-drawn and fun space opera. Imagine blasting across the galaxy, and appearing near something that’s eerily like, but not like Earth. Tallan was the first Western creator I saw who employed a manga-flavored style —indeed, predating by over a decade the current manga-styled comics craze! When I had read first 6 issues, the story took a rather annoyingly conventional turn, where a young male crewmember suddenly behaved in a Nancy Drew Mary Sue fashion. However, since she moved her comic online, Tallan is now in the process of polishing and readjusting the characters and plot. Something delightful to look forward to with Galaxion’s weekly updates.

Girl Genius, by Phil and Kaja Foglio. Adventure, Romance, MAD SCIENCE! The saga of how Agatha Heterodyne, budding mad scientist, finds her place in the world. A wonderful steampunk fantasy, full of world-building, world-crashing character development and thrilling plots. And some of the best coloring I’ve seen in comics, too.

Love and Rockets, by Gilbert, Jaime and Mario Hernandez. This comic is one of my all-time favorites. I cherish the sci-fi escapades of earlier issues, but continue to admire the more real-life themes of later (and current) stories. There’s the richness of las Locas (notably Maggie, Hopey and Izzy) in Los Angeles. There are the compelling lives Palomar folk in Mexico. Both venues contain a dash of magical realism, and a wealth of history. Having Generation-X characters definitely resonates strongly for me. Jaime has the rare ability to draw women with Real Bodies, yet I also enjoy Gilbert’s nods towards famous artists like Frida Kahlo (e.g., an illustrated biography of her life) and Osamu Tezuka (e.g., Errata Stigmata).

Usagi Yojimbo, by Stan Sakai. Its title literally means “rabbit bodyguard,” referring to the comic’s central figure. The stories take place in feudal Japan with the anthropomorphic characters acting out military and political intrigues of the time (both fictional and legendary). The artwork clearly conveys emotions ranging from silliness and joy to rage and stoicism, yet doesn’t strike me as deriving from manga styles. (Not that that’s bad, of course, considering my enjoyment of Galaxion, Steady Beat and Tea Club.) It’s simply Sakai’s own fine workmanship!

Artwork © Mattias Johansson / Muertosan and Stan Sakai.

Yuri Monogatari anthologies published by AniLesboCon. Yuri (”lily,” literally) refers to lesbian (and occasionally bisexual women) themes in manga and animé. (ALC Publishing’s president Erica Friedman provides a helpful glossary of related terms.) Monogatari translates as “tales,” so this series collects stories by many different artists in differing styles, some Japanese and some not Japanese. Actually, most are non-Japanese authors, which is why I list it under Western rather than Asian comics. A few seem to completely lack manga traits, having only lesbian themes. (Especially those by Sergio Alves, Grace Hume, Althea Keaton and Susan Knowles, although I did enjoy the ones by Keaton and Knowles.) I’ve managed to obtain volumes 3, 4 and 5, and the quality of the stories is at its best in the latest one. (The first two volumes are out of print and difficult to find.) I’m particularly fond of works by Sakuraike Kana, Akiko Morishima, Eriko Tadeno, Rica Takashima, and Nishi Uko. I hope this trend continues in future volumes.

Xeno’s Arrow, by Greg Beettam and Stephen Geigen-Miller (Geigen-Miller’s blog). I discovered this at APE VI, and when I had asked one of the creators what it was about he replied, “Fascism from a child’s perspective.” It’s also about escape (literally) from oppression, which has made it one of the few swashbuckling adventures I enjoy. It has an interesting mix of characters, including naïve, blue-skinned Xeno, a child of an unknown sentient species living in a “Zoo,” and the rat-like Clemens, an ever-hungry, amusing troublemaker.

Asian Comics

Dokebi Bride, by Marley. As an example of my late-adopter status, this is the first manhwa I’ve read. The artwork, especially the covers, is stunning. Sunbi comes from a line of female shamans who either deal with dangerous spirits, or go mad. Her grandmother (the former) raised her because her mother died from the latter. As I read how Sunbi struggles to find out more about her family, I see how strong-willed and antagonistic she is. Yet I appreciate how she learns from her mistakes and slowly matures. A significant misstep is how she becomes “married” to a dokebi, an ogre-like spirit —who reflects her own obstreperous personality.

Fruits Basket (Furuba, as a portmanteau), by Natsuki Takaya. The Wikipedia entry, which contains spoilers after the Plot section. Some of my initial resistance to manga (and animé) is the overuse of hypercute, giant-eyed characters, part of the moe illustration style. Such a superficial prejudice, I soon learned, especially with Fruits Basket! On the surface, the orphaned Tohru Honda falls in with the Sohma clan, who have an odd… relationship with the Chinese Zodiac. Those cursed turn into an animal when grabbed or embraced by someone of the opposite sex. Sounds hilarious, and indeed there are great comic moments. But below the surface lies troubled lives, and disturbing, abusive families, as well as the struggle to cope and overcome. Furuba is also an example of where I became eager to read the manga after first watching the animé television series. (Tezuka’s Black Jack would be another one, when the English translation returns to print.) In fact, while the animé version is excellent, I find the manga more complex, a work to relish as the story carefully unfolds. TokyoPop has published 20 English graphic novels, out of a total of possibly 22 to 24 books.

Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service, written by Eiji Otsuka and illustrated by Housui Yamazaki. Five students at a Buddhist university find that they’ve got very dim employment prospects. So they form a company that helps the dead find resolution. They barely manage to hang together: a dowser who finds bodies (not water), a psychic who speaks with the dead, an embalmer doomed in a nation that focuses on cremation (but great for forensics), a hacker-social engineer (an unusual but effective leader), and a nerdy nobody whose sock puppet channels a foul-mouthed alien. Yes. Alien sock puppet. The illustration is gorgeous, but also VERY graphic —the mature rating is definitely to be taken seriously. But this manga succeeds because of the wacky, discordant personalities, as well as a balance of humor and humanity in the face of horror.

Shrimp salad with scallions, Thai basil and parsley, on top of toasted whole wheat bread.

Here’s a recipe I’ve improvised, based on shrimp. I’ve enjoyed eating this for lunch at home, as well as on a picnic in a park.

Mix in a bowl…

• 1 to 2 tablespoons mayonnaise or aïoli
• 1 to 2 tablespoons crème fraîche, sour cream or yogurt
• 1/4 to 1/3 cup minced shallots, onions, or thinly sliced scallions or chives
• 1 to 2 teaspoons mustard; Dijon style, horseradish or garlic flavored work nicely.
• 4 to 5 ounces cooked shrimp; chopped into smaller pieces if more than an inch long
• 2 to 3 tablespoons minced herbs, such as parsley, mint, basil, cilantro, etc. Lesser amounts of tarragon or thyme would be fine, too.
• ground pepper to taste
• (optional) lemon or lime juice, to further moisten the salad

Serving suggestions

• With chopped avocado and/or tomato
• On or with leaves of lettuce
• On bread or buns

Broiled eel over crisped rice, topped with nori and scallions. Okay, okay, the crispy part is on the unseen bottom of the pan.

(I don’t own a claypot (i.e., ceramic hotpot), and I’m too chicken to choose which of the many supposed “correct” ways to cook rice dishes in said container. Blame my confusion over the soak vs. not to soak and oven vs. stovetop camps of techniques. Blame my hesitation about direct flames on ceramic dishes and fear of a hot, food-filled container cracking and making a mess which would take a decade to clean away. As you could surmise, my web searches didn’t help much. So far. Advice welcomed.

The crispy rice goodness seems like a Japanese version of the Persian tahdig. I couldn’t find a decent definition for tahdig online, though. The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Claudia Roden’s New Book of Middle Eastern Food helped. Tahdig, a.k.a. tah dig or tahdeeg, refers to the crusty, often golden-brown rice at the “bottom of the pan,” its literal translation. In Persian and other Middle Eastern cuisine, these rice crunchies are a delicacy. In general, Japanese rice cookery discourages rice crusting —with the exception of kamameshi dishes, AFAICT.

As a pathetic consideration towards health (unagi is very rich and fatty), I’ve been using 70% polished brown sushi rice: the taste and texture are like white rice, but with more fiber and nutriment. Nijiya Markets sell organic sushi rice at 0%, 30%, 50%, 70% and 100% polished levels, with 0% as complete bran brown rice and 100% as white rice. Choices!

Regarding garnishes: I highly recommend adding scallions, to lend a bit of sharpness to cut through the eel’s unctuous nature. Btw, your pre-cooked unagi might come with a sauce packet (a.k.a., taré), which you might find useful.

Crispier version

I figured out the following method from the advice of a waitress at one of my favorite Japanese restaurants, to whom I send my hearty thanks! The trick is to heat up already-cooked rice in an oiled pan; no claypot needed.

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon roasted sesame oil, plus a bit more for (re)broiling the eel.
• (optional) 1 teaspoon garlic infused olive oil
• 3 cups cooked sushi rice; leftover rice cooked in dashi or water works fine.
• 8 to 9 ounces broiled eel (defrosted if previously frozen)

Seasoned dashi & garnishes

• To make flavorful dashi, put the following in a small sauce pan and boil for 10 to 15 minutes:
  • 2 cups dashi
  • 4 tablespoons mirin
  • 2 tablespoons sake
  • 2 tablespoons soy sauce (I use a low sodium variety)
• taré, or the sauce packet from packaged unagi
• 3 or 4 scallions (green onions), both white and green parts sliced thinly
• crumbled or snipped nori
• shichimi togarashi (7-spice powder)
• sansho (ground green Japanese pepper)
• wasabi
• mild pickles, such as cucumber, cabbage or daikon

Method

1. Heat the sesame oil (and garlic oil, if using) in a non-stick (preferably) medium saucepan or skillet over medium high heat. Swirl to coat the bottom and as much of the pan’s sides (at least an inch high).
2. When the oil is hot (it should be shimmering), gently but firmly press the rice into the pan. Make sure it covers the bottom of the pan. You want to maximize the surface area of rice grains exposed to the oil in the pan —without having to stir, since no stirring occurs in order to encourage crust formation— but you don’t to densely pack it in to form a solid mass.
3. Heat until the rice is hot throughout, as well as browned on the bottom. This takes about 8 to 11 minutes.
4. While the rice is heating, oil a broiling pan in which you’ll cook the eel, skin side up. Place the eel in the oven (with a broiler setting), and broil until the skin bubbles. This takes about 7 to 8 minutes. Remove from oven when done.
5. Turn the heat off for the rice when it’s ready. Slice the eel and place on top of the rice; I serve it directly from the saucepan. Add garnishes (except for the seasoned dashi), stir everything together, and serve in bowls. Pour in some of the seasoned dashi at this point, if desired.

Softer one-pot version

As for the tahdig effect, this recipe is certainly not as crunchy as the above one. My rice cooker was built to avoid that, but having the sugars from mirin and soy sauce will cause some amount of browning. (I received giggles from a Japanese waitress when I described this.) Still, it’s a tasty one-pot meal, easily done in a pinch. So this recipe turns out to be an approximation, a compromise.

Feel free to add the unagi sauce packet contents to water, instead of the seasoned dashi. However, a sauce packet usually contains only a small amount (less than a tablespoon from what I’ve seen), so add a bit more dashi or water, about 1 or 2 more tablespoons, in order to avoid having too little liquid for cooking the rice.

Ingredients

• 1 cup uncooked sushi rice
• 8 to 9 ounces broiled eel (defrosted if previously frozen)
• 1 plus up to 1/2 cups seasoned dashi
• (optional) 1 packet of unagi sauce
• Any of the above garnishes

Method

1. Rinse the rice until the water is no longer cloudy (3 or 4 times). Place rice in rice cooker.
2. Slice eel into 3 or 4 pieces and lay them on top of the rice, skin side down.
3. In a measuring cup containing the dashi (or water), add the mirin and soy sauce (or sauce packet). Add additional dashi until the total volume is 1 1/2 cups. Stir then pour this over the eel and rice.
4. Cook according to rice cooker’s instructions. However, within the last 10 to 15 minutes of cooking, add the scallions; no need to stir yet.
5. When the cooker is finished, stir up the rice, eel and scallions. Serve in bowls and garnish as desired.

For the botanically inclined, I submit vegetable porn involving burgundy and green filet beans. Basically haricots verts / violet, but Californian. Bush beans of the Maxibel and Royal Burgundy varieties, if ya wanna get technical.

Royal Burgundy bush beans.

Oddly enough, after cooking the purple filet beans, they turn a green color to match the haricots verts.

I obtained some Texas tomato cages in hopes to control the tomatoes. The rectangular folding cages used in the past often buckled and nearly collapsed halfway through the season. This year we planted Stupice, Big Rainbow and Early Girl. I learned after several seasons that the best Early Girl fruits come from the indeterminate variety, instead of the bush-style or determinate variety. For some odd reason, the more compact Early Girls lack the flavor and vigor of the crazily sprawling one. In any case, I see many flowers on the three plants, and a few green fruits, so I imagine the tomatoes will ripen by next month or so.

On an impulse, I decided to plant some green and red shiso. Copious amounts of leaves! I wonder how I’ll use them. Shiso’s aroma is a combination of mint, anise and pepper, which is sharp when fresh, but becomes more subtle when fried. They’re okay in Vietnamese salad rolls, but I prefer their flavor in deep-fried dishes, which we typically order at Japanese restos. But we very rarely deep fry food at home… Hmm, anyone want some? Or have some good recipes?

Then there are the birds, which sometimes I now address as “damn birds.” First, there was the Crow Incident, involving a neighborhood cat nearly capturing a young crow in the backyard. (The feline leapt nearly a meter into the air, but failed to capture anyone.) Corvids, charmingly clever beasts in general, seem to be particularly protective of their young. So as this young one cried (insert loud, desperate cawing), many, many crows arrived into our yard, to yell at the cat and us —even though we chased off the cat. (Reminds me of the crows in Miyazaki’s Kiki’s Delivery Service, where they cried “Egg stealer!” (conveniently and ironically translated by Jiji, the black cat familiar) at Kiki as she accidentally fell into their nesting tree.) The young one survived, thankfully. But for good measure, it (or one of its vigilant parents) visited the backyard for a couple weeks to yell and dive (fortunately not close enough for contact) at me. Things seem to have mellowed out now, either due to the young crow growing up and out of the neighborhood, or because of the typically non-elephantine memories of avians.

The young crow escaped into a neighbor’s plum tree, then beyond.

And secondly, those brash Mockingbirds. They ended up nesting some place other than the honeysuckle bush. But now they’re performing their summertime relationship-affirming concerts, which involves touring the neighborhood, they shall have you know, especially localities containing aromatic flowers and fruiting trees. This production begins before dawn, tapers off around midday, then picks up again around dusk. The “before dawn” aspect interferes with the human sleeping habits. (Silly humans, so little appreciation for outdoor music at high volume and high places.) I do admit, however, that the songs remain enchanting. I just wish I were more of a morning person.

Inappropriate uses for dulce de leche: Spackling compound (too sticky). A treat for your cat (unhealthy). Ignored on the shelf (so sad).

Dulce de leche combines my love of soft caramel and my weird childhood hankering for evaporated milk. (What? It was creamy richness in a can. But the thought of boiling an unopened can of sweetened condensed milk (well, any kind of unopened can) raised fears of kitchen explosions and burns.

On the other hand, Mercedes provides (via David Lebovitz) a less hazardous method: (1) Open can and pour contents into a heat-proof dish. (2) Place foil-covered dish in a hot water bath. (3) Bake in 425ºF degree oven for 1 to 1 1/2 hours until nicely tanned. Three simple steps, woo!

After going through this a couple times, I learned that, yes, I do need to maintain the water level, so that it doesn’t dip much below the level of the milk in the dish. Otherwise, it curdles; still edible, but then I need to run it through a sieve. (Turns out I need only top off once or twice during the process.) In addition, a dish with a small base (like a glass bowl) will greatly increase the baking time (nearly 2 to 3 hours!). Try to find a dish with a broader base, like a pie dish (which took only a hair over 1 hour). More surface area is my friend, indeed.

So warm weather means pulling out the ice cream maker. With dulce de leche sitting in my fridge and Deb of Smitten Kitchen’s recipe in hand, how could I resist?

The joy of this ice cream recipe is that I didn’t need to make the usual egg custard. My Crazy Theory is that dulce de leche, with its thick almost gelatin-like texture, acts as an excellent custard substitute, thank ye very much.

I ended up making a half recipe of Deb’s formula, in a somewhat lazy fashion. I dumped half a pound of the sweet goodness directly into the sauce pan (with the scale, my savior), then poured in 1 cup whole milk and 1/2 cup heavy cream. (I omitted the vanilla and nuts.) I heated everything to scalding, whisking with a silicone whisk (another kitchen savior) into happy smoothness. Then my Usual Ice Cream method kicks in.

The result? I don’t have a photo because it looked…uh, beige. (Not terribly appealing, IMHO.) But the flavor and texture are spot on. Cooling for a hot day, with luscious caramel goodness. And I need to make another batch, because it’s all gone.

I’ve limited this entry to non-graphical works (2). Books are sorted alphabetically by author, then publication date. Because it is a damn long list, I’ve added a lightbulb icon to ones I highly recommend. I’ve also made a separate section for books I didn’t finish.

1. ~Ha ha ha~. I started this entry back in January. I’ve also slipped in items I read in 2006 (breathe in) and 2005 (sigh, breathe out), since I’ve got both sticky and electronic notes dating back that far. Let this be a lesson to me to avoid writing up something that covers multiple items over a multiple year period. Sheez.
2. I’ll cover comics, including manga, in separate entries.

Brockmeier, Kevin. The Brief History of the Dead. I like Brockmeier’s description of the afterlife, integrating it with the living. An engaging yet melancholic adventure; makes me curious about his other works.

Carr, J.L. A Month in the Country. A pleasantly quiet story of a painter restoring artwork in the English countryside.

Corder, Zizou. Lionboy. I like the concept of a half-British, half-African boy (mixed cultural identities can be both educational and adventurous!) on a quest to find the cause (and cure, he hopes) of an ever-expanding sickness. With the help of felines. I would’ve enjoyed it except for what I call the Nancy Drew Syndrome, a main character whose skills and personality are so good, so perfect, as to be implausible. It detracts from an otherwise entertaining story and atmosphere.

Gaarder, Jostein. Sophie’s World. I’ve never taken a class in philosophy. This book provided an illuminating history of philosophy wrapped around an oddly fantastic tale. Some might pooh-pooh the technique, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Gaiman, Neil. Coraline. A delightfully creepy story of girl who must enter a sinister realm to rescue her family. With the help of a cat, of course! One of my favorite lines: “When you’re scared but you still do it anyway, that’s brave.”

Gaiman, Neil. American Gods. Why do I like Gaiman’s writing? Is it because he approaches mythology, culture and religion with curiosity and wonder without caving in to dogma? Is it because he treats his characters with humor and compassion, even amidst cruelty and misery? Is it because, from lecturing gods to thrilling sex scenes, the stories are involving, if not fun to watch unfold? Yes, all of the above.

Gibson, William. Pattern Recognition. It took me a million years (okay, over a dozen) to finish reading Neuromancer. I couldn’t immerse myself in Gibson’s cyberspace world —mainly due to my inability to grok the idioms and dialect in that book. (Ironic, considering my career.) Ah, but this book. It feels right, it sounds real, and is much more readable than his earlier works: with credible high technology (so similar to what I deal with!), yet with enough weirdness and mystery to make for swell science fiction. The plot: viral Internet videos. The protagonist: a woman with a severe allergy to commercialism (now that’s synesthesia gone wild!) who investigates the source of the videos.

Gibson, William. Spook Country. This takes place in the same world as as Pattern Recognition, with one, maybe two of the same characters. It’s an intriguing page-turner, populated with spooks (agents) from several divergent backgrounds. The novel’s ambience is saturated with both the ennui of modern life and the paranoia of war, where a former musician-now-journalist must figure out: What’s in that container? Where is it? What are the shady deals concerning it?

Golden, Arthur. Memoirs of a Geisha. Historical fictions pose many restrictions on authors, and I feel it’s often hard for them to successfully pull off either credible characters or convincingly absorbing environments. This novel gratifies me in both areas.

Gorodischer, Angélica. Kalpa Imperial: The Greatest Empire that Never Was. Ursula K. Le Guin’s translation read like an intricate Russian fantasy. Sadly, it’s too opaque for my little brain, since I didn’t (couldn’t?) become immersed in the fictional history of the empire. (As an aside, it does remind me of the fictional academic writing of fellow Argentine writer, Jorge Luis Borges.)

Jones, Diana Wynne. Dark Lord of Derkholm. In this fun novel of wizardry and high-stress business (of creating an amusement park for other-world tourists, ha!), Jones evokes strong empathy for both Derk, a down-trodden middle-aged man, and his teenaged son, Blade. In fact, all of the characters have remarkable, yet understandable personalities. This book epitomizes Jones’s skill at showing depth existing within seemingly villainous characters —yet astutely portraying real evil. Jones’s application of magic in a biotechnological manner is also clever and nifty.

Jones, Diana Wynne. The Year of the Griffin. Derk’s family from Dark Lord of Derkholm is huge. But this novel isn’t really a sequel; it’s a side story about Derk’s griffin daughter Elda who goes off to sorcery college. Yes, the phrase “antics ensue” applies here, but it’s still a good read.

Kessler, Brad. Birds in Fall. Another quiet novel, where all dialogue is written without punctuation. (Which sounds odd, but is actually quite easy to follow.) As seen by the title, birds are the motif: migration, flying, falling, airplanes, etc. An interesting story about mourning (e.g., the Kingfisher myth features prominently after one of a pair of ornithologists dies).

Lowry, Lois. The Giver (audiobook). A utopia where everyone has a perfect home, a perfect career, a perfect community. But someone has to keep track of history, and all knowledge which is not-perfect: the Giver. An exciting tale where we see the tiny cracks and smears form in the otherwise shiny surface of an ideal society.

McAvoy, R.A. Tea with the Black Dragon (reread). A good story from the perspectives of a middle-aged woman and an ancient dragon who renounced his original form for a human body. There are references to the concrete bleakness of Sunnyvale (specific parts, like Mathilda near Highway 101), which have remained unchanged since this book was written back in the early 1980s!

Miéville, China. Un Lun Dun. This novel beautifully turns the concept of prophecy on its head, where the sidekick becomes the protagonist. Exemplary scenery as well, going between modern London, and its weird-alternate, Un Lun Dun.

Mitchell, David. Cloud Atlas. Multiple narratives from vastly different voices and different cultures, spiraling from the past to the far future, and back again. It’s a creative technique, which succeeded for me, as a kind of the History of the World.

Moore, Christopher. Fluke, or I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings. I know it’s a mere comparision of two books, but Moore succeeds for me where Robbins stumbles with mainstream wacky fiction. For some children, horses become the animal obsession; I went through such a phase, but much more briefly. For me, it was cetaceans. So how could I resist a story which starts with a humpback flashing “Bite Me” on its flukes?

Moore, Jeffrey. The Memory Artists. The viewpoints shift between a man overwhelmed with synesthesia, his mother succumbing to Alzheimer’s, an ambitious neuropsychologist, and several other ragtag individuals. All of them seek to comprehend or control aspects of their own or others’ memories. Good stuff!

Murakami, Haruki. A Wild Sheep Chase. A somewhat offbeat hunt for a sheep with a black spot in its fur, in the shape of a star. It was one of Murakami’s first successes, but for me it wasn’t one of his best (i.e., sounded quirky, but ends up feeling just okay).

Murakami, Haruki. Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (reread). This book contains one of the most (believably) competent characters of all time, the Professor’s Daughter. The story itself has two sides: an unchanging fantasy land filled with unicorn skulls, and the dreary life of a human calculator (a “number launderer”). I’ve always been confused by the ending, and after reading it again last year I still don’t comprehend it. (I understand the philosophical, if not intellectual implications…but, strangely, not the literal ones!) But it’s still fun to read about Japanese monsters, old sewer systems, mad science, and film noir.

Murakami, Haruki. Sputnik Sweetheart. A story of two women: one with a frozen heart and (literally) snow white hair, and a younger, livelier one (nearly her opposite) who takes an interest in the former. Rather than dreary, the melancholic situation is explored with compassion and audacity.

Murakami, Haruki. Kafka on the Shore. I find the story of the slow-witted (and illiterate), unagi-loving man endearing. The story about the teenaged boy Kafka trying to find his past is also interesting —except for an element in this book which set off my Revulso-Meter: how could incest be seen as romantic or enriching?

Murakami, Haruki. After Dark. Murakami’s latest novel, focusing on several late-night denizens: a somnolent model, a jaded student, a butch love hotel manager, and an abused prostitute. Almost but not quite as good as A Wind-up Bird Chronicle, which currently stands as my favorite work by Murakami.

Nix, Garth. The Abhorsen trilogy, consisting of Sabriel, Lirael and Abhorsen. A really cool series about necromancers and clairvoyants, and their attempts to maintain balance in the Old Kingdom. Rather than wielding wands or staffs, the necromancers ring bells to control their powers and the (un)dead. According to his website, Nix plans on releasing another two novels in the same world, Clariel: The Lost Abhorsen (in 2010 or 2011) and another occurring a few years after Abhorsen (in 2011 or 2012).

Park, Paul. A Princess of Roumania. The first novel in a fascinating parallel world series, where three teenagers come to learn more about themselves and the world(s) around them. Which identity is real? Which one is redesigned? Who should they trust? It is a complex environment and set of personalities, which I find both conscientiously detailed yet confusing to maneuver through.

Pessl, Marisha. Special Topics in Calamity Physics. An eerie tale of a teacher who takes under her wing a small group of high schoolers. Does she care, or is she simply being manipulative? While bright, each of the students suffer from their own form of self-absorption. Literary references abound to tie the plot together, sometimes well integrated, sometimes not.

Piercy, Marge. He, She and It, a.k.a., Body of Glass, outside of the US. Two stories superbly presented and interwoven: first of a young Jewish woman and a golem in Prague during the 1600s; the second of another Jewish woman in the future, torn between a broken marriage, a robot, corporate tyranny, and the struggle of a small, self-sufficient community. This novel is an interesting contrast to Piercy’s earlier Woman on the Edge of Time. Both dealt with oppressive societies vs. hard-working idealists, but the older book was more bleak, and often relentlessly distressing. Still, I highly recommend both.

Pullman, Philip. Lyra’s Oxford. A 50-odd page story, taking place a few years after the His Dark Materials trilogy. A thoughtful piece where Lyra learns more about her home and herself.

Robbins, Tom. Villa Incognito. An odd tale about war, the Tanuki, and his descendants. It could’ve been a better book, because the author seems to try too hard to be outré or witty; the tone ends up overexcited, with moments of sexiness or toilet humor thrown in for, I dunno, good measure.

Rosenbaum, Benjamin. Other Cities. A marvelous collection of short-short stories about cities: their history, their inhabitants, their leaders, their personalities.

Russell, Mary Doria. The Sparrow. A Jesuit who suffers horrific experiences at the hand of aliens wonders how God could exist. Ah, so you’d think that agnosticism or atheism would be discussed or investigated, hunh? Nope, not AFAICT. Rather than having an interesting theosophical discussion, it felt intellectually insulting. (Nearly as bad as The Life of Pi) Go read Pullman instead.

Seigel, Andrea. To Feel Stuff. Erf, I cannot remember much about this novel, except that it’s a young college student suffering an odd, terminal disease. And that I enjoyed its dreary atmosphere, evocative of old university towns. Might need to reread.

Stewart, Sean. Mockingbird. A modern novel steeped in voodoo mythology. The story just fell flat for me; alas, a case of high expectations wrecked by disappointing (IMO) plot.

Swann, Leonie. Three Bags Full, a.k.a, Glenkill. Everyone has genre preferences and aversions. I don’t like reading mysteries. Yawn. But this was an exception. It has a superb mix of confusion, puzzles and wackiness. Especially since sheep are the main characters, trying to figure out the death of their beloved shepherd.

Weeks, Sarah. So B. It. An involving story about the daughter of a retarded woman learning about her family’s past, while coping with the present. Now I want to check out Week’s other novel, Jumping the Scratch.

Wyndham, John. The Chrysalids (audiobook). Post-apocalyptic future, where “normal” humans, ruled by religious zealotry, cull out those with mutations. It was a compelling story to listen to during a roadtrip; I might read the original 1955 novel.

Yoshimoto, Banana. Kitchen. I’ve found that I’ve enjoyed Yoshimoto’s first (this one) and latest works (Hardboiled and Hard Luck) the most. Odd personalities, cooking and death, and a touch of magical realism, which makes for a bold yet meditative combination.

Yoshimoto, Banana. Asleep. Three spellbinding stories involving sleepwalking, comas, ghosts in dreams and narcolepsy.

Yoshimoto, Banana. N.P.. Hrm, this book also tripped my Revulso-Meter. It’s also somewhat of a literary mystery, but unfortunately it doesn’t quash my dislike for mysteries.

Yoshimoto, Banana. Lizard. An interesting collection of stories spanning the broad range of life’s rites of passage and spiritual turning points.

Yoshimoto, Banana. Hardboiled and Hard Luck. Lovers, death and food. Sad and contemplative. Stories definitely worth reading!

Unfinished

Corder, Zizou. The remaining two books of the Lionboy trilogy, The Chase and The Truth. See above regarding Corder’s first book which I read completely.

Funke, Cornelia. Inkheart. I hope to finish this fantasy series, as I do enjoy Elinor and Meggie’s dispositions. What made me halt in the middle of this first book, was the sudden feeling of “Oh no. I know this is a series, but will this first book leave me with a heavy, ungratified feeling, instead of eager anticipation?”

Hafiz. The Gift, translation by Daniel Ladinsky. It felt unauthentic, like I was reading some 1990s New Age poetry. To be a better test, I’d like to read an older English translation. If the poems read the same way, then I’ll know better, and give Ladinsky’s translations (currently the only ones in print) another try.

Horsley, Kate. Black Elk in Paris. I lost interest in reading about the tragedy of an eccentric in Victorian Paris.

Harris, Joanne. Jigs and Reels. I stopped reading this due to No Particular Reason (NPR), with no strong feelings about it, other than having other more interesting or engaging books to read at the time.

Klinkenborg, Verlyn. Timothy, or Notes of an Abject Tortoise. What I thought would be a quirky tale from the eyes of a tortoise just seemed dull.

Kurimoto, Kaoru. The Guin Saga (book 1): the Leopard Mask. Just couldn’t get into what seemed like an infuriatingly hackneyed fairy tale.

Mahfouz, Naguib. Arabian Nights and Days. NPR.

Murakami, Haruki. The Elephant Vanishes: Stories. The stories here felt too abrupt, too disturbing to be satisfying. Makes me think that Murakami excels more at longer works.

Smiley, Jane. Moo. NPR.

von Schlegell, Mark. Venusia: A True Story. Too over the top surreal for me. (Somewhat disappointing since I do enjoy many surreal things!)

Westerfeld, Scott. Uglies. The premise sounds fantastic: a world where at adolescence a person is surgically altered to become beautiful…as a form of societal conformation and control. What if that person refuses? Sadly, I couldn’t handle the narration, which felt…hm, simple-minded? True, the principal character is supposed to be rather callow, but the voice didn’t feel as convincing as, say, Charlie Gordon’s voice in Flowers for Algernon. P’raps I’ll check out his other fiction (a friend has recommended Peeps).

Update: The Animé Blog, which I just stumbled upon today, published a thought-provoking article asking “What’s It Take For You To Drop An Anime?” Just to quickly spell out a few of my aversions, which are like alarm bells (rather than the aforementioned indifference towards the hackneyed, irritating or overly violent, which is more common):

• Excessive fan service. Especially when it becomes mean-spirited, too frequent, or no longer funny.
• The crazed sociopath personality. Bloodthirsty, lovin’ that torture, and screamin’ for more! Well, not for me. If that’s all there is to such a character, then they’re merely shallow and ultimately boring. And it usually crosses the “too much violence” line for me. Unsurprisingly, I abhor this particular set of traits in all media, whether in animation, films, books or comics.
• Repetition which doesn’t add value. Let’s repeat that fight scene, with either the same or different characters (e.g., Revolutionary Girl Utena, whose entirety I managed to wade through). Let’s repeat that argument or magical spell scene. Let’s repeat that AMAZING transform scene, complete with bad 1980s rock anthem or pseudo-opera soundtrack. Erm, let’s not.
• Incest (often between biological siblings) or rape portrayed as something deep, meaningful and romantic. (Such as Angel Sanctuary; argh, I heartily wish I didn’t bother watching all of the episodes, even if there were only three of them. My eyes still burn from the experience.) I might also add lolicon and shotacon, although to be honest I don’t think I’ve watched animé which featured those themes inordinately. Perhaps I’m unsophisticated here, and don’t appreciate the possibly fascinating cultural observations or metaphors involved when creators are so intent on focusing upon these particular sexual themes… But, hey, everyone has their limits, and this one makes my Revulso-Meter spike.
• Excessive propaganda, notably of the xenophobic variety. I don’t mind displays, dialog or topics that challenge my attitudes, my society; heck, sometimes it’s done well, and sometimes achieved hilariously. But again, some things do cross the line, by being too simplistic, or too narrow-minded. (Case in point, Kamichu! Teenage Goddess, wherein my jaw dropped several times in the manner of OMGWTF.) It doesn’t add merit, it’s just plain insulting.

The main point of this entry is to keep track, so as to avoid accidentally watching these again. I’ve left out even brief summaries or opinions, since I prefer to spend more of my time writing about animé series I do manage to complete.

Recently added, erm, dropped series are denoted with a (*).

• .hack/SIGN
• Angelic Layer
• Aquarian Age
• Bleach
• Blue Gender
• Blue Seed
• Elfen Lied
• Figure 17
• Ghost in the Machine: Stand Alone Complex
• Glass Fleet
• Inu-Yasha
• Kaze no Yojimbo
• Kyo Kara Maoh
• Madlax
• Magical Shopping Arcade Abenobashi
• Maison Ikkoku
• Nadia: Secret of the Blue Water
• Neon Genensis Evangelion
• Neo Ranga
• Ninja Nonsense: The Legend of Shinobu
• Noir
• (*) Red Garden
• Samurai Champloo
• s-CRY-ed
• Shadow Star Narutaru
• Shamanic Princess
• Sherlock Hound
• (*) Soultaker
• Speed Grapher
• Spiral
• Texhnolyze
• Wolf’s Rain
• Yu Yu Hakusho
• Zaion

A rather short list of restaurants considered as enjoyable as rotting liver (2)

Hobee’s, throughout the Bay Area. One of the first things that pop into my head about Hobee’s is how much I hate the smell of their cinnamon tea, filling the rooms like nasty scented candles. The next thing that follows is how bored I get of their food, and how aggravating it is to stand and wait wait wait for a table of their uninspired food. A childhood and adulthood filled with Hobee’s, because that’s one of the few places both family and friends wanted to go. Over and over. Hobee’s doesn’t serve bad food, and they have admirable community-oriented standards. But I am not a morning person, and unless the food of the day’s first meal is remarkable in quality (or offers unusually interesting items like popovers or crêpes), I am loath to go out for breakfast or brunch.

Hunan Home, Los Altos. I just couldn’t find anything to enjoy eating here. Want another stir-fry disappointment over rice? No, thanks. In spite of being a Silicon Valley favorite, a place like this emphasizes how uninspired Chinese food could become. There are better Chinese eateries! (Try Café Yulong, Ming’s, Yank Sing, or even Chef Chu’s down the road.)

Il Postale, Sunnyvale. A downtown district ought to have at least a couple good restaurants. It saddens me that there are no decent Italian restaurants in downtown Sunnyvale. Gumba’s is mediocre, but at least the cost is low. Il Postale, however, truly frustrates. For an upscale place, their risotto and pasta were uninspired and felt like a chore to consume. The clincher for loser status was their bread: “Italian” bread whose flavor and texture reminded me of WonderBread. It turned out that the bread came from Wilson’s Jewel Bakery, a place whose cakes I found worse than Safeway’s. (For a place that failed at making either bread and cake, I shed no tears for Wilson’s closure.)

Suraj, Redwood City. Somehow the ingredients appear…old and stale. And I’ve gone there several times over the last decade. The chicken dishes frightened me, often tasting rancid. There are better Indian places: Dasaprakash, Shiva’s, etc….even the erratic service nightmare at Saravana Bhavan yields much superior comestables. Really. Let’s go somewhere else, please.

I generally don’t frequent chain restaurants. That is, defining those as part of a big corporate conglomerate (e.g., the Pizza Hut / Taco Bell / McDonald’s consumption mills). However, a few do stand out as vomitoria (3):

• The Olive Garden. Nastily salty food. Dishes described as vegetarian containing obvious lumps of meat. Slow service. True, I went here only once; but it was enough. This chain is an embarrassment to decent Italian restaurants (and home cooked meals of pasta and pizza) everywhere.
• Yoshinoya Beef Bowl. When Japanese food franchises go wrong. This one gets the prize for most nauseating appearance, smell and taste.
• The Cheesecake Factory. The odd bit was my first time at the Old Pasadena location: The wait was long (reservations not accepted), but the food wasn’t half bad. But since then, visits to the Cheesecake Factory have epitomized the travesty that is over-sweetened, cowardly blandified, obscenely huge servings of American cuisine (4). For example, they take a simple Southeast Asian dish such as salad rolls, and manage to render it unpalatable. They can’t even do cheesecake right. Their asinine no-reservation policy (unless that’s changed recently) doesn’t improve their image in my eyes, either.

References

1. Don’t take the above as aspersions on your tastes, of course. Opinions are good: After all, how would we find more and interesting things to eat? (Unless one dislikes food. Pity them.)
2. For the curious, much of this article originated from a restaurant list I had on my old website (circa 1998).
3. Not in the (misconceived!) ancient Roman “eat and party to exhaustion” sense. Rather, in the “Wow, I wasted my time, money and now I feel rather sick to my stomach” sense.
4. Obviously, not all American cooking falls under the OSCBGHS label. Much of it doesn’t, thankfully.

I don’t have recipes posted for all of these, but will add them as I find or write ‘em up.

Oh, we’re also not shy about eating leftovers, whether homemade or from take out. Praise freezing and refrigeration!

Savories

• BLT sandwich
• Caprese salad, or Caprese-style sandwich
• Cheese toasties, sometimes with added veggies like tomatoes or onions
• Chicken, roasted; sometimes use the bones in stock afterward
• Chicken sausages roasted with vegetables
• Chili spiced up with chocolate
• Eggs with toast, scrambled or soft-boiled
• Fish prepared in various ways:
  • Baked in a packet, whole or otherwise
  • Broiled, previously marinated or not
  • Pan-fried
  • Poached; great for making fish stock, too!
• Gyoza
• Hummus with chicken topping
• Kedgeree
• Moussakaa
• Pasta, usually with tomato, pesto or some creamy cheese sauce
• Pizza
• Posole
• Quesadillas
• Quiche
• Rice (usually leftover) topped with egg (usually fried) and veggies (usually leftover, again)
• Risotto
• Soups, often based on puréed vegetables
• Stuft vegetables
• Unagi (Japanese broiled eel) with rice
• Vegetables as sides, prepared in various ways:
  • Boiled: peas, beans, Brussels sprouts, potatoes, artichokes, etc.
  • Baked: sweet potatoes or nightshady potatoes
  • Sautéed: carrots, zucchini, chard, mustard greens, sprouts, etc.
  • Steamed: broccoli or cauliflower

Staples

• Apricot jam and chutney
• Bread
• Chicken stock
• Granola
• Some variant on boiled rice, e.g., with stock, herbs and/or spices

Sweets

• Apple galette
• Apple pie, sometimes topped with streusel (crumble)
• Chocolate chip cookies
• Crêpes
• Ice creams
• Orange cake
• Yellow cake or cupcakes with frosting

Drinks

• Hot chocolate
• Iced tea with mint and cardamom
• Soda lemonade
• Tea, British style, daily

• Injera, a teff based flatbread that’s sour, spongey and soft.
• A good collection of vegetarian dishes, such as kik alicha (yellow split peas), atakilt wot (stewed cabbage, potatoes and carrots), gomen wot (sautéed collard greens), and my favorite…
• …Yemisir wot, brown lentils simmered in a fiery red sauce!
• Yedoro tibs, chopped chicken (usually deboned) cooked into a rich, spicy red stew. Sometimes I’ll have a similar dish, doro wot, chicken on the bone stewed with whole hard-boiled eggs.
• Asa tibs or asa wot (fish stew), or shrimp tibs. Tricky to find a good version, if at all.
• Tej, a honey wine, often homemade or locally produced.
• Iyeb, homemade fresh cheese, reminiscent of a tart ricotta cheese.
• Tea, Ethiopian style, made with a spiced water.

Long waits seem to be an attribute universal to Ethiopian restaurants. Take it as an opportunity to exercise one’s conversational skills with one’s companions. Several places do take away, so perhaps I’ll call ahead to take a meal home, one of these days.

Two restaurants succeed in more respects than others: Zeni and Rehoboth, both located in San José. (Neither serve any seafood, though.)

Rehoboth. While scrumptious, the food here is milder than at other Ethiopian establishments. In fact, I wish they would be, I dunno, less shy or sheepish with the spices. But the waitstaff are warm and personable; this includes the owner, a sweet lady who alternates between cooking in the kitchen and waiting on us. Reservations are also taken, regardless of party size. The yemisir wot is earthier and smokier than Zeni’s. The yedoro tibs differs somewhat, too: more liquidy, more succulent, and with stunningly delicious savoriness. The kik alicha are more flavorful here, as is the gomen wot, which is less bitter and more palatable than at other places. No alcohol (as of this writing), so no tej to try. I enjoy how tea is served in a pot when 2 or more people order it. Occasionally the injera arrives slightly toasted, which I feel detracts from the soft texture; but that doesn’t happen too often. Metroactive review | Yelp reviews. Closed Monday.

Zeni. Spicier food than Rehoboth. The services is a bit more chaotic, but mostly friendly. Reservations aren’t accepted for parties of less than 6 or 8 people, and none are accepted at all on Friday, Saturday or Sunday. They have a wider menu, including sambussa, an Ethiopian analog to samosa, pastries filled with a mild mix of lentils and onions. Their addictive yemisir wot is sweeter and hotter than Rehoboth’s. The spicing in their yedoro tibs makes my mouth buzz and ring with delight. This is the only place where I’ve had doro kitfo made of finely minced chicken (kitfo is usually rare or raw beef mixed with spices); it sounds ingenious, and it might’ve turned out well if it weren’t so salty. Metroactive review | Yelp reviews. Closed Monday.

Other local Ethiopian restaurants

Blue Nile. Berkeley, CA. CLOSED. This was where I first experienced Ethiopian food and wine. While I have fond memories of this now defunct restaurant, I must admit that it was thoroughly Americanized. Their injera was made primarily of white wheat flour, and completely lacked teff (AFAICT) or any of the characteristic tart flavor.

Red Sea. San Jose, CA. I haven’t eaten here for years, mainly because the spice combinations are insanely inconsistent. The first time I had the fish wot, it was great, but another time it seemed like chicken bouillon cubes were added. (A shame since this is the only Bay Area Ethiopian restaurant I’ve found that serves any seafood.) Don’t bother with the weird dessert consisting of frozen mashed poundcake with juice; if you must have dessert there, just play it safe with the baklava. Yelp reviews

Shebele. Campbell, CA. CLOSED. This was the first authentic Ethiopian place I ate at, where injera was brown with teff and tasty like a good sourdough. They weren’t shy here with spices, either. The first time there, the service was painfully slow, but during later visits the service improved. As the years went by, sadly, the quality nosedived, ranging from erratic spicing to undrinkable water (i.e., tasting like bleach). Prolly no surprise that they decided to halt their business.

Not so local: Little Ethiopia on Fairfax Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA

I have barely scratched the surface of the many Ethiopian eateries on this 1-block stretch. Gridskipper has several reviews of Ethiopian restaurants in LA.

Nyala. When my friends and I first came here in the 1990s, it was a quiet place for a spicy, hands-on meal. These days it’s a lot more popular, and a bit less spicy (perhaps more Americanized?). They also serve shrimp and fish dishes. Yelp reviews

Messob. I haven’t been to Messob in many years, but to my recollection the spiciness was fun to revel in, whether with vegetables or chicken. Yelp reviews

Shipping was damn fast when GreenCine had their warehouse in the Bay Area. Then last summer they moved to Van Nuys, in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles. Over a period of two months, while they transitioned to their new location, delivery was painfully protracted —up to 3 weeks for some discs! Even without throttling, rental shipment now takes as long as Netflix.

As a partial solution, I’ve continued the habit of borrowing DVDs at my local libraries. I go through my Rental Queue, and if a disc exists at a library, I remove it from the queue. This works for mainstream films, TV series and moderately known documentaries.

What other DVD rental solutions are out there, which would better satisfy my video needs? I’d be keen to hear your suggestions.

Thinks I like about GreenCine

• Customer service: Upon receiving my email with concerns about the long-drawn-out shipment times during the warehouse move, they offered an apology, and even credited my account (partial month’s worth). Nice!
• I like how they have two lists for requests: the actual Rental Queue and a Request List. The Request List contains movies and series that are on order, but not yet available for rental. However, see the second item under Annoyances…
• Their Quick Return system. It doesn’t speed up the US Postal Service, but at least GreenCine can put the next disc into the mail, even before they receive a returned item.
• They still have more independent films than Netflix, AFAICT.

GreenCine Annoyances

• Prolonged delivery times, though due to distance rather than throttling.
• My Request List remains filled with unfufilled items. Out of nearly seventy items in my Request List, only one has moved (as available) to my Rental Queue over the past year. (They do send an email notification when such a move occurs.) So the Request List seems like a good idea, but is mostly a disappointment since nothing ever seems to become available from it.
• I have sent in dozens of suggestions for DVD purchases. GreenCine have neither acknowledged nor obtain any of them. Okay, three were acquired, two of which are stuck eternally in the Request List. In fact, I’ve had faster service requesting DVD purchases at my local libraries!
• To my surprise, they still lack some animation, animé and documentary titles: A couple famous David Attenborough series (no Life of Birds, no Life of Mammals), the first season of Avatar: The Last Airbender aren’t available for rental yet, even though the second season is.
• My previously enumerated annoyances still hold, with the exception that search response has improved.

Sigh. I think I’ll stick with GreenCine for the time being. I really don’t want to return to the unnecessarily throttled service at Netflix, especially since the ridiculous limitation has been upheld in court.

Update (5 May 2008): In response to this post, GreenCine’s catalog manager recently contacted me. Turns out that the email address for requesting DVD additions is actually catalog (at) greencine (dot) com, instead of dvdrequest (at) greencine (dot) com, as seen on their rental help page. (Hopefully that page will be updated soon.) According to the manager, requests are reviewed monthly, and become likely purchases if popular by customer demand. It’ll be interesting to see if my suggestions will be accepted (or rejected) more quickly…

I’ll write up what I’ve read this year…around the beginning of next year. For now, here are some snippet-thoughts on the non-fiction books I’ve read over the past few years. I’ve excluded technical / computer books, and food books which are encyclopedic or primarily cookbooks, since I write about those in other entries.

Barnes, Simon. How to be a (Bad) Birdwatcher. An irreverent, amusing birdwatching memoir. Only a small hitch with the ending, which incongruously dissolves into sappiness.

Biddle, Wayne. A Field Guide to Germs (2nd edition, 2002). A wonderful summary of bacteria, viruses and protists that cause disease or simply live on or in us. It’d be great to find a more in-depth book which maintains a readable style similar to Biddle’s. (The Unfinished section exhibits my attempts.)

Bishop, Holly. Robbing the Bees: A Biography of Honey. The author lovingly studies the life of a professional beekeeper, in parallel to following her own apiarian journey. Bishop also provides interesting history on beekeeping and honey, along with a few recipes.

Bourdain, Anthony. Kitchen Confidential. Bourdain’s book on his life in the restaurant trade. Wicked, blunt, and a lot of fun to read.

Bryson, Bill. The Mother Tongue. The delightful linguistic adventure that is English! Humorous and informative, with quite a few references to French, another language I enjoy learning about.

Bryson, Bill. A Walk in the Woods. A hilarious account of Bryson’s hike along the Appalachian trail, with an on again, off again companion who hankers more for candy bars than walking.

Colwin, Laurie. Home Cooking and More Home Cooking. Colwin lived only 48 years, but left a legacy of food essays collected in these two books. Cheeky yet thoughtful, and chock full of useful kitchen tips and recipes. For example, no-knead bread might be all the rage nowadays, but I first heard of it here. I might not always agree with her (I do like my pastry blender, ha!), but her writing is clear and encouraging for anyone who cooks at home.

Gates, Stefan and La Riviere-Hedrick, Max. Gastronaut: Adventures in Food for the Romantic, the Foolhardy, and the Brave. Before I heard of Nose to Tail Eating or Beyond Nose to Tail, I read this book. In spite of my picky eating habits, Gates’s lightheartedness makes this a pleasurable study in unusual foodstuffs.

Foster, Thomas C. How to Read Literature Like a Professor. I still don’t skim text as effectively as I’d like to —that’s not the point of Foster’s book, anyhow— but this certainly helps with picking out and understanding common metaphors in fiction. I wish I had this beneficial guide as a kid in school, since it helps a lot with reading comprehension.

Leroi, Armand. Mutants: On Genetic Variety and the Human Body. In a world filled with mind-numbing molecular biology textbooks and trashy pseudo-science reports, Leroi’s book is a refreshing alternative. Technically detailed, yet not lacking compassion for his subjects, he explores congenital defects and mutations thoroughly. This is an excellent, enlightening overlap of medicine and anthropology.

MacDonald, Sarah. Holy Cow: An Indian Adventure. Reading a travel memoir on encountering the many religious facets of India does intrigue me. Unfortunately, this book disappointed me. MacDonald’s tone rings as a bit too ditzy, giving this work a superficial and careless feel.

Murakami, Haruki. Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche. A compilation of interviews conducted by Murakami (more known for his surreal novels) divided into two parts: Victims and witnesses of the sarin attack, then members of the Aum Shinrikyo cult. An engrossing yet reflective set of conversations on the traumatic experience of terrorism.

Reichl, Ruth. Garlic and Sapphires. The memoirs of a former New York Times restaurant critic. I’m astonished yet captivated by Reichl’s efforts to disguise herself into anonymity for her job. A fascinating account that combines the views of a writer, food lover and restaurant customer. (Contains a few recipes, including an awesome one for New York cheesecake.)

Roach, Mary. Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. A fearless yet respectful investigation on what goes on with human bodies after death. Roach covers a wondrous range of research performed on cadavers, as well as helpfully summarizes the biological and chemical processes that occur when we die. You’ll notice similar books on death in the Unfinished section that failed to reach a similar level of skill or tone (IMHO).

Weiner, Jonathan. The Beak of the Finch: A Story of Evolution in Our Time. In science books there’s a thin line between being illumination and soporific. Darwin or the Grants’s research is certainly valuable, but Weiner’s description fell into the latter category for me. Considering how I appreciate ornithology, evolution and memoirs, I admit I approached this book with rather high expectations. (I’d like to find a good book describing New World mockingbirds, Mimidae, a family which Darwin was keen on…)

Unfinished

Some books I pick up, put down, then don’t pick up again.

Bondeson, Jan. A Cabinet of Medical Curiosities. Too much like a cross between a dry history textbook and a dry medical textbook.

Burdick, Alan. Out of Eden: An Odyssey of Ecological Invasion. Research and awareness of invasive species is critical, but reading this book felt like a chore. Additional illustrations, even just one or two a chapter, would’ve helped, and including a table of contents even more so. I stopped just under halfway; maybe I’ll finish it if my endurance and patience allow.

Cheney, Annie. Body Brokers: Inside America’s Underground Trade in Human Remains. While the book covered an important issue which should not be ignored, it was too dry to read all the way through.

Hester, Elliott. Adventures of a Continental Drifter. I mistakenly thought this was a travelogue that focused on the food. It didn’t.

Roach, Mary. Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife. The subject matter didn’t compel me to spend time to finish the book. Reality tends to be more interesting. Unless it’s fiction.

Rossant, Colette. Memories of a Lost Egypt, also titled as Apricots on the Nile. After reading the first couple of chapters, I dropped this one due to its whiny, depressing tone. (How many times do you need to tell me you don’t like desserts?) Maybe I’ll try again another time, but I doubt it.

Sachs, Jessica Snyder. Corpse: Nature, Forensics, and the Struggle to Pinpoint Time of Death. All of the deaths discussed dealt with murder. I expected (erroneously) to read about other causes of death, so this crossed over the “too morbid” line for me.

Steingarten, Jeffrey. The Man Who Ate Everything. Y’know, I tolerate rants from writers who dismiss vegetarians, lactose-intolerant folks, or just plain picky eaters (I look into the mirror daily!) —if they’re amusing, or have nifty bits to impart. Such as Bourdain. Not this book. Shrill, aggravating, dropped.

Winchester, Simon. Krakatoa: The Day the World Exploded: August 27, 1883. I cannot deny that history is important to geology, especially since Krakatoa’s explosion is one of the most documented volcanic disasters. But this fell under the pall of “dull history textbook”; I wanted more focus on geology.

Zimmer, Carl. Parasite Rex: Inside the Bizarre World of Nature’s Most Dangerous Creatures. I stopped reading this because it discussed pathogens with a historical perspective. Unfortunately, like many history books for me, it made this reader fall under the spell of boredom and disinterest. But I might give it another go later on. Perhaps it would’ve been better if it were organized either by taxon or disease, similar to Biddle’s book, but more in depth?

I wrote dry often there, hunh? And whiny memoirs. Two traits (albeit subjective ones) which dissuade me from continuing.

And the toppings! How insanely I denounce sausage, pepperoni, salami, ham, pineapple, bell peppers and olives. “Criminy, what else is left? What could possibly remain to grace the surface of the best beloved savory pie?” Ah, many things. Such as chicken, cheese and chutney.