And also: I went to the YMCA today for the first time since May, and it has been completely remodeled and no longer looks like a good place to catch sweat-borne illnesses. It's shiny and glass and terrazzo'd.
Here is what I made, watched, read, etc. this past week:
Seitan piccata with Olives and Green Beans: This is like meat and potatoes, sans meat but still with potatoes. First I coated some chicken seitan with flour, fried it, put the meat-ish substance aside. Sauteed some onions (a last minute sub because our local supermercado doesn't sell shallots often enough to actually keep them fresh. That does not prevent them from keeping them on the shelf. This provides an interesting effect when you slice into one, and it is shriveled and black inside ... like your soul) and some garlic, then added veggie broth and white wine into that same pan so that flour residue assists in creating a sort of gravy. Then add capers -- with brine -- and some kalamata olives.
Take some mashed potaters, top it with the meat-ish like product. Add some green beans, and top it all with the gravy stuff. WOW! That's a lotta flava-flav, my friends.
Gorgonzola, Fig, and Spinach Pizza: Wowee Wow Wow. Lots of super exciting things happened with this bit of awesome. First: figs. Who knew? I didn't. I had to Google image to know what one looked like in its raw, not on my sandwich in a jam-ish consistency form. Now I'm a total new fan.
So this is just a pizza crust, with a sauce of Gorgonzola and milk, blended. Then toppings of figs, black olives, and spinach. And letmetellyou. These things all taste pretty good together. Baked for 20 minutes.
Salem's Lot by Stephen King: What does a player have to do to find a leg-numbing, breathing impaired, can-only-read-in-daylight-hours novel? It’s my second-favorite holiday season in the world-wide calendar, and I want this October to come with some g’damn goosebumps.
Good. Not scary. Full review here.
My Hollywood by Mona Simpson: On their first date, Paul and Claire have already divvied the responsibilities of keeping their careers and managing a child: The former as a TV comedy write; the latter as a classical composer.
“50/50,” Paul tells her — which in retrospect becomes the laughable math of a man who will spend 14 hours a day with other writers, trying to create comedy. A sound stage where he looks more at home than when he is at home, and a steady stream Diet Coke coursing through his bladder. Claire’s not exactly hitting her quota, either, with deadlines for commissions to write, and milk to make. Not to mention she feels like a misfit among her mommy peers.
Full review here.
Enter Lola, a Filipina nanny charged with watching their baby, William. Lola is trying to earn as much cash as possible to send back to her family in the Philippines. She wants better lives for her children, stresses on education, followed by career, all shrouded in virginity. So she mails money, mails money, mails money, subsisting on a single luxury: A cup of coffee a day.
My Hollywood is Mona Simpson’s juxtaposition of these two cultures: The Santa Monica wives with their absent husbands, diamond earring envy, and play groups. A posse that compares nanny salaries divided by duties, and plant “your kid might be autistic” seeds.
Halloween H20 - Twenty Years Later (Dimension Collector's Series): Oh, Michael Meyers. For such a leisurely-paced walker, you certainly can get from Point A to Point B pretty quickly. And you certainly leave a bloody wake.
Apparently, one must cast aside what they believe to be true about the Halloween franchise, the thises and thats of family tree and DOB-DOD action. Just nod and smile and use that same brain anesthetic that helped you give-a-shit about "Days of Our Lives" when you were in college and Marlena was possessed by the devil.
NOTE: Post title contributed by Funjamin, and includes six descriptors he used to tell me about a mix he made me on g-chat.