So Long, Ole Snaggletooth. Hello Regular Guy.

WARNING! If you're my brother or Alex, don't read this blog. Or at least don't look at the pictures. For some reason, certain people don't like seeing a close up picture of my face with a broken tooth hanging out in the front. If you don't want to see that picture either, then you should probably just stop reading right here. And also, you should probably get ready for me to give you a hard time and call you a wiener a lot. I just don't see what the problem is. It's just a broke-ass tooth! Man up!

So here's what happened. When I was 19, I was going to school at a lovely little liberal arts college in Beloit, WI. One of my good friends from high school, Straight Edge Rob, had come to the same college with me, and we lived in the same dorm our freshman year. One night, I believe in February, we were hanging out in the lounge of our dorm with a bunch of people, being innocently stupid, as most 19 years olds tend to be. I was doing a headstand in one of those big lounge chairs when I felt something hit me in the mouth. It didn't hurt at first; just felt weird and not right. I heard, sort of in the distance, our friend Gail exclaiming "Oh my god, Robert, you broke her tooth!" I came down from my headstand and put my hand to my mouth. Sure enough, there was a gap in my front teeth! My front left tooth had been broken in half in the front, and then angled upwards so there was almost no tooth left at the back of it. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god" I kept saying, looking at Rob. He looked horrified, insistingly saying "It was an accident!" I looked in the mirror and screamed, full out. I had a giant hole in my mouth. Damn.

A couple of questions are probably floating around right now. Namely, I imagine, "what broke your tooth, Reem?" Well, my friends, I'll tell you. It was a plastic hair pick that Rob had thrown. Yes, one of these:

Rob kept saying something about how it must have been the trajectory and angle at which the pick came down and hit my tooth that caused it to break in half. I was skeptical, but I really did know he couldn't have thrown something at me that hard on purpose. Or with that good aim. It was definitely an accident, but um...yeah. What an accident.

I assume the second question you're asking is "what happened to the part of the tooth that broke off?" Well...I can say with about 95% positivity that I swallowed it. The thing is, I don't remember swallowing it, but everybody else seems to remember that happening, and the tooth was nowhere to be found, so...I guess I swallowed the piece of tooth. Whoops a daisy.

Here is a picture of me shortly after it happened. I've been reluctant to share this in the past, not because of the ugly gaping hole in my teeth, but because of my crazy ass eyebrows in this picture. Yep, I'm sometimes vain. Not vain enough to resist posting pictures of myself with broken teeth, of course, but almost vain enough to not show you my pre-waxing-days eyebrows. Now you know everything.
See the broken tooth? The Cosmo comes into play because not but an hour before Rob knocked out my tooth, I'd been doodling on the cover of that Cosmo magazine, and had colored in Cindy Crawford's front left tooth. The same tooth I got knocked out! Creepy, eh?

I got the tooth fixed pretty soon after that, and had a couple of temporary crowns that fell out from time to time, usually in food or right before I had to get in an airplane. Very stressful. I had bad dreams about teeth falling out for about a year and a half after that and still have them every so often. Most recently (three nights ago) I dreamed that I had braces and the wire came off, which revealed the fact that I had no teeth at all on the bottom right side of my mouth. All gums, smooth and soft, that I could feel when I ran my tongue over them. So gross. One positive to come out of this, however, was a poem that my dad wrote and sent me right after this happened.To the best of my memory, here is an excerpt:

Reem laughed very hard with a mouth that opened wide
When from a far off land came RJ comb and busted her tooth apart!
One half went down in her guts and gave her the diarrhea!
The other half was broken and triggered the hysteria!
Reem called up her parents and cried out her heart
Thinking that for the rest of her life, she'd have to work at WalMart...

Oh Dad! I can always count on you for laughter during stress. Thank you! By the way, RJ was what we called him in high school, and how my parents knew him.

I eventually got a permanent crown when I was 20, which was a relief. And really, it wasn't too bad until the last couple of years or so, when I realized my fake tooth was looking longer than the rest of them. I called it my Snaggletooth. Apparently it wasn't evident to very many people, but there are definitely pictures in which it's obvious. Like this festive holiday one:

Or this one, which is one of about 20 that I took at all different angles in order to fully display Ole Snaggletooth. See it?

Needless to say, it was time to have it taken care of. This, in addition to the fact that I needed a root canal on the tooth and I had an abscess above it that was starting to weird me out. I went to the dentist, a very nice man who hums along with the Lite FM station in his office while he works, and over this summer, have had three dental procedures to fix my tooth, hopefully permanently.

During my second visit, they removed the old fake tooth and put in a post to help stabilize the permanent one I'd get a few weeks later. In between the removal of the fake tooth and them putting in the temporary one, I asked to look in the mirror. To my surprise, the leftover real tooth that was there was a totally different shape than I'd imagined. I think it looks like a sideways pacman, or maybe a shrunken head, in a way, but you can decide for yourselves (by the way, this is the picture Emil and Alex were mad about. Whatever, man):

When I asked the dentist and dental hygienist whether I should take a picture of this, they were both emphatic about me not documenting this. The dentist even said "You don't want to remember what this looks like, do you?" Hmm, I guess he didn't think I looked too good, eh? I guess some people don't think broken teeth are funny. Like Emil and Alex and Dr. Kosovec. Waa waa. You know what though? When they left the examining room, I jumped out of the dentist chair and snapped that photo real quick on my phone. I'm not one to let a golden moment go to waste. I just can't.

This morning was my last procedure, and I got my permanent crown put in. It's such a weird feeling to have my tooth be the same length as the rest. Also, the old crown was super thick in the back and this one is normal, and it's so strange. But I think it looks pretty nice! I'm trying not to micro-examine every inch of it, but I think it's okay.




And that's the story of my tooth, babies! Thanks to those of you who lasted through all the pictures. Were they really that bad?

Going to Homes Coming to Home

After I visited my friend Helen in New Orleans earlier this year, I wrote something somewhere about home and Home and coming to your home and going to others' homes. I thought of it again after I visited my friend Anna's hometown in Iowa, but I can't for the life of me find where I wrote it, or remember most of what it said, but this one line is ringing in my brain.

This is why we have to visit each other.

In an attempt to carry on with that...We need to be in each others' homes, to see the worlds in which we live in order to come closer to understanding this person. To see them water their plants and take out the trash, and walk down the street while neighbors greet them. To meet their friends and participate in their social lives. To eat their favorite foods and walk around their favorite tree. To have them point out the spot where they played their first gig, or had a really lovely date. To look closely at how they decorate their home, to see what they like to look at on an every day basis. What matters most to them. What is important to them. We need to go. Be in the person's home to truly see them. To see how they live and what they love, and to love them, love the experience of it all.

I feel this so strongly in Atlanta when I visit my sister. Yes, this is different from when we're in Chicago. This is her life, and I'm looking at it, loving it, being a part of it. Needing to be there more often. And then the other reminders: Go to Austin. Go to New York. Go to San Francisco. Go to Portland. Go to France. Go everywhere. Invent teleportation. Know the people I love. Learn about their lives.

I returned home tonight to wonderful food at my favorite Thai/Vietnamese restaurant and lovely catching up and conversation with my girl Genia, the regular routine. But then, Cycropia at the breathtaking Orton Park with old, giant trees lit up in blue, giant white orbs of light hanging from their crawling branches, and people in costume dancing and swinging on trapezes. Their grace. The quiet awe of the audience. People ducking out of the way so others could see. Strangers smiling. Walking everywhere all night and not driving at all. Running into friends on the street. Walking to the lake and seeing the moon reflect on the water, one single bright star below it and millions more shining clearly in the sky. That's my home. I'm home. I wish you all could see it.

Oh, Hey Music!

As we drove to North Georgia today to visit a zedonk (half zebra, half donkey - pictures and story to come soon!), my sister and I were talking about music and the most important albums in our lives. I'd done a note on this awhile ago on facebook, narrowing it down to 30 albums that were influential or important to me over the course of my life, but it was really fun to bring it up again, discuss together and compare notes. So, here's my list! I highly encourage you to make your own list, if only for my satisfaction and curiosity as I like you all and find you very interesting. For real, let me see your list. Leave it in the comments or write it somewhere else and link in the comments. I like you. I want to know about you and your music. Plus, music is awesome. Come on now.

Peter, Paul and Mary - The Best of Peter, Paul, and Mary - Ten Years Together
This is the first album I remember listening to as a kid. We had the record, and we would go see them at Ravinia (big outdoor music venue near where I grew up) most summers. Definitely instilled a love for vocal harmonies in my kid brain.

The Pointer Sisters - Breakout
The first tape I ever bought. I think I was 6 or 7. I remember listening to "I'm So Excited," "Neutron Dance," and "Jump (For My Love)," then rewinding it and listening all over again. Sometimes I would try and listen to "Automatic," but I thought it was boring and never got very far with it.

Michael Jackson - Thriller
We also had this one on vinyl. My favorite song was "Human Nature," and I saw the video for "Thriller" at way too young an age. I still get creeped out by Vincent Price's voice.

Jesus Christ, Superstar - Soundtrack
I have every word memorized, and I've seen the play 6 or 7 times, and I used to perform the entire thing in my room when nobody else was home, and my secret dream is to play Judas in a production of this musical. Don't tell anybody.

Led Zeppelin - Disc 2 of the Box Set
My sister owned the box set, and we'd set our cd player to play "Black Dog," "Over The Hills and Far Away," "Immigrant Song," "D'yer Mak'er," and "Stairway to Heaven." Once I finally listened to the rest of the disc, and the rest of the set, they became one of my all-time favorite bands.

Mötley Crüe - Dr. Feelgood
This was the first cd I ever owned! Sara gave it to me for Christmas in...7th grade? It came in the long box, and I loved it. I still have the same copy of this cd, and I still love it.

Guns n Roses - Appetite for Destruction
What do I even say about this? I think it is the most rocking album ever made. WAY ahead of its time. I mean, jesus christ, it was released in 1987! Crazy. I have two copies: one for the apartment and one for the car. It is my all time favorite album.

Liz Phair - Exile in Guyville
Oh Liz! You did so much for me. This was one of the first albums that introduced me to any kind of feminist ideals, and one of the first solo female artists I ever loved. Hearing her sing about sex and love was eye-opening for me.

Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes
When I was 15 or so, I needed Tori music more than I realized. Although I totally make fun of her now, I still listen to this album during my more angsty nights. Her lyrics were something I absolutely needed to hear at that time. And also, duh, piano rules.

Hole - Live Through This
Oh man. I think I also needed to hear some screaming when I was fifteen or sixteen. This was one of the first albums that made me want to play the drums. I used to try and sing along, but after a couple of minutes, my throat would hurt and I'd just drive fast. Every time I listen to this album, it's over too quickly.

The Violent Femmes - Add It Up
I had this tape playing in my car for most of my junior year in high school. It's awesome. I finally got to see them at the Aragon when I was seventeen, and it's still one of the craziest shows I've ever been to.

Ani Difranco - Not a Pretty Girl
Similarly to Tori, I needed to hear somebody saying this stuff. Saying that crazy shit had happened to somebody else, and hearing power and survival and inspiration in the music and lyrics.

The Pixies - Doolittle
I had a lot of friends in high school who I was intimidated by because they had "advanced musical taste," and loved The Talking Heads and They Might Be Giants and others who I totally didn't "get." I got The Pixies though, man. I got the shit outta them.

Immortal Beloved - Soundtrack
All Beethoven music. It formed what I wanted to do with my life. For real. After hearing these recordings, I knew I wanted to dedicate my life to music. And it was the first time I heard my most favorite piece of music ever in life (2nd movement of the 5th Piano Concerto) Thanks, Beethoven!

Concrete Blonde - Bloodletting
Another from my sister. Johnette Napolitano's voice is one of my favorites, and was perfect for those confusedly-angry days of high school.

The Mix Tape Emily Weaver gave me for my 16th birthday.
First time I heard NOFX, the Descendents, A Tribe Called Quest, and the first time I really listened to Sly & the Family Stone, Sam & Dave, and Ella Fitzgerald. A HUGE influence in my developing musical taste at the time.

Prince - Purple Rain AND The Hits 2
I love them both. I associate The Hits 2 with driving to summer school the summer before my junior year. There was this ten-day period where my parents took my sister to look at colleges and drove my brother to Space Camp (that's right, Space Camp!) and left me home alone, and all my friends slept over in my parents' family room and we drove to summer school, listening to Prince. And Purple Rain because...well, dude! It's Purple Rain!

Beastie Boys - Ill Communication
I get this surge of energy when I hear them. Every time. I remember having fantasies of having MCA as a roommate, doing it with Ad Rock, and playing video games with Mike D. I'd still do all of those things.

Portishead - Dummy
I think that, for awhile, I may have been a little depressed in high school and college...

Björk - Homogenic
This is the only album besides Appetite of which I have two copies. The song "Jóga" is one of the most painfully beautiful things I've ever experienced.

Jeff Buckley - Grace
I listened to this album non-stop the summer of 1999, between my sophomore and junior years of college, right after Sarah Wallbank died. I would literally sit in my dorm room and cry and write and then wander around in a daze. It's still sort of hard for me to listen to this now.

Jane's Addiction - Nothing's Shocking
Another of the most rocking albums, but with a lot more beauty than Appetite. Every time "Summertime Rolls" comes on, I think of Christopher and laying in the bed in my dorm room on a beautiful, sunny day, and I feel more alive and full of love.

Hot Hot Heat - Make Up the Breakdown
Hands down one of the most upbeat, fun albums ever. The lead singer of this band is like maybe my height and has this great head of puffy hair and wears jeans that must be from the little girls department. But I digress. I mention this album because it marks a point at which I started listening to music that was way more fun and a little less...serious?

The Dismemberment Plan - Emergency & I
I remember Kaleb letting me borrow this album and telling me to listen to the track "Spider in the Snow." I did, and I was hooked. I've listened to this album in its entirety at least twice a month for the last 7 years. It just works.

Le Tigre - S/T and Feminist Sweepstakes
I listened to these a lot whilst living in the Womyn's Center at Beloit College and while playing in The Koochies with Sarah, Cody, Helen and Nicole. Very meaningful days...Once again, more wonderful ladies saying more things I needed to hear.

The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
"Fight Test" will always make me smile. I listened to this a lot when AJ-then-Tony was making his solo album and I got to play piano on it. This album means summer to me.

Postal Service - Give Up
Ben Gibbard's voice, while totally wienerific, is pretty lovely, and I actually listened to the lyrics of this one, unlike most music I listened to after 1999. Beautiful music for winter or summer days, which I think is a rarity!

Devotchka - How It Ends
The first album I ever owned by this amazing band. I love them.

Simon and Garfunkel - Greatest Hits
This album is one of few that I listen to while I'm in Ireland. One, because it's one of the few albums that whoever is there can agree on listening to. And that's only sometimes. But also because being in Ireland can often be bittersweet, and this album always helps me remember that when I want to come home, I already sort of am. Also, remember in Almost Famous when Anita puts on the song "America" and tells her mother "this song explains why I'm leaving home to become a stewardess?" Awesome.

Devotchka - A Mad and Faithful Telling
This album signifies a turning point in my life - right around a year ago - and has been a sort of necessity to me for the last year. I can pick out specific chords in "Along The Way" that lift up my heart. I get chills when I hear Nick Urata's tired voice on "Undone." Every time I hear this album, I feel like I'm discovering something new.

Written on 2/26/09.

Speaking For Me

If I could just hire all my favorite musicians to walk around with me every day and play songs on command, I'd feel a bit better about my lack of ability to speak and say what I want to say on certain days. At the end of this honestly beautiful day, which is at the end of a very emotional couple weeks full of love and family and sadness and beauty, a time during which I am having so much trouble verbally articulating anything I'm trying to get across, at least I can count on music to help me out. Some of the beauty, specifically, I'm feeling and appreciating as of late, and specifically today and tonight:

Simon and Garfunkel - For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her


Led Zeppelin - The Rain Song


Loggins & Messina - Danny's Song


Andy Williams - Moon River


Björk - Jóga


Jane's Addiction - Summertime Rolls


Music is pretty magical, don't you think? I hope you have some time to listen.

Family Story Six: We Taste Meat, Cheese, and Beer.

On March 7th, 2010, my L'il Brudder Emil sent an email to our family listserve inviting us all to purchase a Groupon for a meat, cheese, and beer tasting at a bar in Chicago. Yes, we have a family listserve. And yes we will most likely engage in any group activity having to do with food and drink. And I know you didn't ask this question, but yes, when we attend an event at your establishment, we will descend upon you like a swarm of hungry vultures surrounding a wounded animal, and we will attack your food-related products like a lion taking down a gazelle. Okay, so I just compared my family to wild animals and Animal Planet specials. We sort of are like wild animals. But with cute shoes and well-manicured eyebrows. And usually, a lot of charm and wit.

Anyhow, 55 emails and 115 days later, several of us had bought the Groupon and found a time to meet up. Also, "several" means "12 - 14." With this in mind, Emil smartly called Villain's (the bar that was hosting this Groupon event) ahead of time to let them know that we had 7 people who had purchased the Groupon and 5 or more others that would be coming along to either participate in the meat and cheese tasting, or to have something else to eat and drink. Very thoughtful, Emil, especially since we'd planned it for the Friday night before July 4th, which is the same weekend as the Taste of Chicago and about a zillion other events. You see, we plan ahead.

Unfortunately, when we arrived at Villain's, we were informed that the Groupon deal was not available on this particular weekend because of the potential busyness spilling over from the Taste of Chicago. We were told this news as we looked around the bar and counted about 8 other patrons. Um...yeah. Emil got pissed, and rightfully so, since he'd talked to the guy the day before to let him know we were coming in. While he argued with the manager, I took the opportunity to go out front and sweet-talk Nick the Bouncer who we'd chatted with on our way in. And this bouncer subsequently became the star of the night. Within about 6 seconds of me mentioning (nicely) that they weren't going to honor the Groupon, Nick had run inside to "take care of it." See now, that's what I like to hear. "I'll take care of it." "Forget about it, it's done." "I'll make sure one falls off the back of a truck." I love this way of doing things!

Anyhow, long story slightly shorter, Nick saved the day and somehow convinced the manager and the chef to do the Groupon deal, and everybody was happy again. See, sometimes you have to ignore the manager and go straight to the bouncer. Bouncers get things done. My favorite part of it was when Mladenka, Emil's girlfriend, turned to my brother and exclaimed, "See! Reem was very nice and sweet and she got what she wanted! You have to be sweet!" Thanks, Mladenka. Sometimes, my charm works. And sometimes it results in the family getting to taste meat, cheese, and beer. (DISCLAIMER: Emil is plenty sweet. I was just sweeter in this particular situation. Mostly because the bouncer was totally fine and I was feelin' flirtatious).

Here are the brave 7 of us (Layla is hiding in the back) who participated in the tasting. You can see the 5 servings of beer placed in front of each person. Doesn't it look nice and organized?
Here's a close up. Guess what! I have no idea what any of them are. But you can pick out a random five from Villain's beer list and pretend those are they.
And here is the meat and cheese! I have to believe that there would usually be a bit more to it all. Because, to be honest, this platter seemed a bit half-assed. Especially for what would usually cost $47 (we paid $20 each with the Groupon). I mean, I know it's only supposed to be a tasting, but...it was definitely lacking a bit. The extra touch of almonds or macademia nuts or whatever they were tossed sloppily on top seemed last-minute and a bit desperate. The portions were little. But maybe it's just different because I'm used to Wisconsin and to put it bluntly, people know how to eat here. EAT. In capital letters. See family, you'd love it here.
Another view of the platters. It was pretty hilarious to see seven of these spread across the table, along with 35 small beers. Oh, by the way, the beer was totally worth it. Especially since nobody liked the darkest beer in the middle and I got two "bonuses" of that one. Totally worth it!
One of my favorite parts of tastings is the tiny utensils that come with. Tiny things! Look at this little wiener spreader/knife!
There was this one thing on the platter that wasn't meat or cheese. Consensus decided it was a sort of apricot jam, but it wasn't of the regular jam consistency. It was more like a thick, really soft and almost melting fruit roll up. Appetizing, eh? It confused me.
After the first three or so beers, we started getting creative. This here is some meat with some cheese on it (oh lord, I don't remember what any of these are) and a green olive, sliced up and placed on top.
And this, thanks to Shadi, is my favorite combination of the night: some kind of prosciutto paired with a soft white cheese and a tater tot on top! Can you tell that we were several beers in by this point?
Absolutely delicious, and by far, one of the classier moments of the evening.
After finishing our tasting, we executed the successful tactic of leaving the establishment before they start to hate us. This only happens some of the time; the opposite has definitely occurred plenty of times, and I like to think that some of us try and avoid it now. Emil and I gave hugs and huge props to Nick, the lovely bouncer, who saved the entire night for us!
And, to top off one classy night, Shadi wore a helmet in the front seat of Layla's car for the entire ride to the next bar.
There he is, the classy gentleman.
And, to bring it all together:

Hell yes. A classy night had by all, thanks to food and drink, a lovely bouncer, a charming attitude, cousins, and a helmet. Good job, family.

Not a Review Because I Can't Handle Those: Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue

See now, this is why I can't be a critic or a reviewer or anything. I go see a show, take two or three pictures and then have to put my camera back in my bag so that my hands are free to wave around in the air. Looking classy, obviously. And I think of a couple sentences that I try and jot down on my hand or on the back of a receipt I find crumpled at the bottom of my purse, but then I realize the band is covering James Brown and I need to focus. On the fact that they're playing James Brown, not on sentences describing them playing James Brown. I end up with a tiny handful of blurry pictures and three nonsensical phrases in a text message I sent to myself that I later try unsuccessfully to decipher. It doesn't work. And it's just not for me, man.

So instead, I watch. And dance and smile and laugh and all that. And that's why I don't have much in terms of a review of Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue, who performed here in Madison last night at La Fete de Marquette.

I mean, they were brilliant. I'll say that. From the horn section to the rhythm section to the unbelievable guitarist to Troy Andrews (Trombone Shorty) himself, the band blew my mind. Troy played trombone and trumpet, conducted the band, sang, and danced. Nobody told me he could sing! And for real, he could sing. His voice has the depth and passion of a man three times his age, but he brought out a sexiness that just works so perfectly from a 23 year old up on a stage in front of you. You know? Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.
Watch him make the music move:

Do you see? That was all I could get, because sometimes you have to know when to put down the camera and just watch. Or just dance. Or just smile so much that your face hurts and forget the details of the show. Let somebody else do it, and you go experience that show.

And of course, there's my unending love for and fascination with the musicians. Oh, these musicians! My mother may have told me, and my friends may have warned me, but I know and they know that nothing gets me quite like a beautiful boy playing guitar. I mean, please.

You know?

Total Maroon

After cooking my dinner tonight, I sat down to eat. It took about 15 minutes. I also sat around for about 10 more minutes before going back to the stove to clean up a bit. I'd left a pan on the stove, and looking inside, I saw this:
What is it? A glob of cheese? A well-seasoned egg white? A dab of butter, perhaps? No, my friends, for I'm way stupider than that tonight. It's part of my white plastic spoon that melted when I left it in the pan on accident. Oh, and I also left the stove on.
Although I was somewhat distraught at the tragedy of losing my spoon (I only have two other identical spoons, you see!), I did see an opportunity for...

PROP COMEDY!!! Wooo, I'm takin' a bite! Yeah!
What a maroon. Theme of the day, babies. Total maroon.

Summer Eatin'

Last night, I was explaining to a couple of friends that I seem to eat better and healthier when I take pictures of the food I'm about to eat. No, wait. That might be a total lie. Example A - The Mastodon (10 oz burger with BBQ Sauce, Cheddar, Bacon, Frizzled Onions) at Kuma's Corner:
Example B - the Mac & Cheese at Kuma's Corner (this was ordered "for the table" and had mushrooms and bacon in it): You get the idea. Okay, let's say that this week, I've been taking pictures of food and realizing that it makes me want to eat healthier. Seriously, you put all your food on a plate and take a picture of it, and you realize that you don't have any protein! So you go get you some protein, and everything is balanced and healthy, and things are great. See how it works?

It has been really easy to eat well and healthy this summer, mostly due to the weekly farmer's market that takes place right outside my house on Tuesday afternoons. The Eastside Farmer's Market used to be a few blocks over, but now it is literally in the parking lot across the street from where I live. I could run there and do an entire lap around the whole thing, holding my breath. Fantastic! It's been diverse so far this summer, and I've almost always come away with fantastic items. Like these, all for a very affordable price:
And some lovely lilies! I haven't been too excited about lilies in the past, but these were so lovely. The leaves are really cool looking too.
The food from the market is extremely fresh, locally grown and made, and absolutely delicious. I've had a ton of fun making meals this week. There's something about the weather that makes me want to eat differently than I do during the rest of the year. Part of me wants a lot of cold things, and no meat, and several little items, all on one plate (but not touching each other. Don't worry, Layla, I'm still true to my roots). Check out some of me fantastic meals from this week!

Here we have hummus I'd made a couple of days before with toasted pita bread, and green beans, raspberries, and cheese curds from the farmer's market! The cheese curds are from Farmer John, who regularly has a booth at several farmer's markets in town. Naysayers, please stop nay-ing; I'm pretty sure you're just nervous because of the word "curd." Here, have a read, and come back when you're more open-minded. These cheese curds are so fresh, probably just a couple of hours old, and they honestly do squeak when you eat them!
This is more of the same hummus and pita bread with a bit of paprika to make it more presentable. It's like dressing up for church, you know? Cut up tomatoes and cucumbers are one of my favorite dipping items for hummus, but the cucumbers must be sliced longways like this. Those pretzel-looking things are raspberry yogurt covered pretzels. So delicious...
I mixed some black beans with tomatoes and cooked them for a while, adding some cumin and other stuff. Hey, cooking! Those are white corn tortillas, avocado, and broccoli from the market.
I bought some new potatoes somewhere else this week - I can't remember where - and decided to cook them with an item I'd bought at the farmer's market last week: Summer Butter. What's summer butter, you ask? Um...actually, it's just butter that is made in the summer. That's all. But apparently, this summer butter has a more yellow color because the cows are eating healthier than they do in the winter. Hey, me too, cows. Me too.
I honestly haven't ever tasted butter like this before. It's incredible; just salty enough, creamy, um...buttery...ridiculous.
I also decided to make egg salad and add in some favorites: tomato, red onion, and dill pickle. These items give it so much flavor; in fact, I don't usually need to add any spices when I put in these three things. My favorites for egg salad, however, are dill and paprika. And it makes it real pretty looking.
Here's dinner! The potatoes have scallions on top (also from the farmer's market, duh), more green beans, and the delicious egg salad. There's also some greek yogurt on the side, just because. You know, one time I made egg salad with Laughing Cow cheese and a teensy bit of greek yogurt for creaminess, and I swear, it was really good. Sometimes mayonnaise is disgusting and you have to find another item. Waa waa!

So, just a note about pictures and colors...I have to say, this last dinner wasn't as satisfying in looks to me due to the sameness in the color of the egg salad and potatoes. There needs to be more of a sense of balance or evenness for me to be totally happy, like more so in the other pictures. For example, have you heard the "top news story" about Subway? They are changing the regulations on placement of cheese in sandwiches. Oh, for real. Check it. See, they're making things more even and giving the sandwiches more cheese coverage over all. Everybody wins! And for me, this is perfect because everything is even and balanced, and frankly, I just feel better and sort of relieved when thing are even and balanced. I have a...what's a nicer word for "compulsion?" Whatever that is, I have it.

The summer dinners have been lovely, and what's also been great is filling in the rest of my meals with leftovers here and there. For example: Bruffix. I love breakfast so much. It's definitely my current favorite meal. Here we have some more tortillas, leftover beans and tomatoes, scallions, scrambled eggs (those are totally egg beaters because I used all of the eggs for the egg salad. I think next time, a poached egg would be perfect here.), and the same potatoes I cooked before. I added some seasoning and browned them a bit, and they were lovely. That fancy stuff in the blue container is a delicacy known as "ketchup."


It's been a good summer for eating! Unfortunately, this trend is about to end as I head to Chicago for the weekend and go to a meat, cheese, and beer tasting with my brother and cousins. Yikes...I foresee the "tasting" portions not being big enough for some family members, and those family members going out for burritos later in the night. I'll let you know how it all turns out.

Max Weinberg Comes to Town!

I used to write love letters to Conan O'Brien. Okay, to be honest, most of them were in my head. But I do remember actually writing down at least one. It was written in a hotel somewhere, on hotel stationary, and it was never sent. But still, I wrote it. I suggested he have me as a guest on his show. My talent, or contribution to the show, would be me reciting a scene from West Side Story in which I'd play four characters. It's the scene where Maria wants Anita to make the neckline of her dress lower. I had it memorized and had different voice for all the characters and everything. I wrote Conan a letter encouraging him to invite me on, as well as professing my love for him in that letter. I'm a teensy bit glad I never sent it.

Anyhow, I really did think I was in love with Conan. His wit, cleverness, and intelligence balanced so well with his painfully awkward and nerdy personality. Weird hair, skinny wiener legs, and god, oh so white...? For some reason, I thought he was my perfect man. You'll probably be happy to know that my taste in men has changed a lot since then. Not to hate on Conan or anything...but I digress. Back to Conan.Yes, this guy.

I'd watch his show religiously, regardless of homework or my job or my social life. I was enthralled by Conan and Andy and their hilarious skits and nerdlinger conversations. I loved that there were often times when nobody would laugh but the two of them. I didn't really care who the guests were; I mostly watched the show for Conan and Andy. And honestly, for years and years, I never appreciated the man who really made the show come alive. The quiet, sort of creepy guy sitting behind the drums that Conan and Andy made fun of and made out to be a total perv. That's right, I'm talking about Max Weinberg. Max Weinberg is one of the most amazing drummers ever. Duh. Not only does he lead an incredibly tight band on Conan's show, he rocks so hard with Bruce Springsteen! I saw Bruce in March of 2008 and was amazed and humbled by Max's playing. How does he make so much sound and so much rock come out of those drums when he barely moves his torso? For real, I don't understand. He sits so upright, almost rigid, and barely changes his facial expression. But the sound that comes out of his drums is insane.

Thanks to the lovely local website dane101, I won free tickets to see Max Weinberg on his latest musical endeavor: Max Weinberg's Big Band. Creative! God, who even cares what they're called?! They could be called "Piece of Poo" and I'd still go see them and love every minute. Anyhow, dane101 often posts opportunities to win free tickets to fantastic shows, and I just happened to win these tickets about 8 hours before the show last night. Fantastic!

The show was at The Majestic, which is the same venue in which I've danced and sweated to DJ Rekha, Dan Deacon, Peaches, and, ahem, a Guns n Roses cover band. And damn, they really classed the place up for this event. It's a good thing, too, since it seemed like about 90% of the audience was above 50, and would prefer a classier (read: cleaner, nicer, less beer spilled on the floor) venue. Nice work, the Majestic. We also had a great view from the balcony, right above the band.

Max's band is made up of 15 musicians including himself; four trumpet players, five saxophone players, three tromboners (ya heard me), a pianist, a bass player, and a drummer. Named Max Weinberg. They sat in a typical big band style, all behind podium music stands, and whenever somebody would solo, they'd stand up to do so. At the end of the solo, everybody claps. Now you know and won't be embarrassed when you see your next big band. Yeah, you're welcome. The band was amazing; so tight and so in tune with each other, but without being uptight. I really feel like Max actually let loose a bit more than he has when I've seen him on television or at the Bruce concert. It was definitely unexpected, and definitely exciting to watch. Look at those sticks!
Max was way more personable and comfortable than I thought he would be, and than I'd seen him on the show. I mean, don't get me wrong, he was still a straight up nerd, but he didn't seem quite as uptight and weird. He was friendly, joking with the crowd and professing his passion for Frank Lloyd Wright and Madison in general. At one point, while he was speaking into the microphone, his voice cracked a bit and he made a joke about how he was becoming a man and going to get Bar Mitzvah'ed next week. Oh Max! You slay me!
He kept the talking to a minimum, though, and played for a solid hour and a half with a pretty diverse repertoire of songs like you would have heard Count Basie play. He also did quite a few cop show theme songs, for some reason...One of my favorite songs that he did was the beautifully lazy and luxurious sounding "Only the Lonely," made famous by Frank Sinatra:

It was so cool to watch the band watch each other. I've thought about this before, specifically in watching Emanuel Ax play with an orchestra and seemingly getting lost in them during his own performance. The members of Max's band watched each other solo and clapped for each other when they could. There were a lot of smiles and laughing between the impeccable playing, which made me smile and laugh as well. It was a really great way to see this band, and I really appreciated the intimacy of the venue. I feel really lucky to have seen him and his band in this capacity.

Check out Max's drum solos at the end of the show. My battery was dying, so each video only lasts about 30 seconds, but you'll get the idea:


Max Weinberg! See him if you can. It's totally worth it.

Dates. No, I Mean the Food Kind.

As a kid, I was a very picky eater. My mother would cook amazing Iraqi food, delicious salmon dishes, and flavorful, creative recipes of all kinds, and I'd eat fishsticks. On my birthdays when I got to choose where we went out to dinner, I'd choose Chili's or Applebees. For real, I would. Gross, eh? I think my father is still regretful about those meals, even 15 - 20 years later. Whoops a daisy!

I was always extremely resistant to Arabic food, or what I perceived to be Arabic food. My mother would make kibbeh, or "rice and gravy," which was basically white rice and red tomato gravy with meat and/or vegetables, and I'd pout and whine about it like a little baby. I was not a bratty kid, but this was one place where I really did it up. In addition to the beautiful cooking on which I missed out, there were lovely individual items that I hated on as well. My father always had a love for figs and dates, and believe it or not, I wouldn't even try either until well into my teenage years. What a fool I was...I cannot believe I missed out for all those years.

Now when I see dates, I feel like I'm home. My father speaks about the date palms in Baghdad and how they grew everywhere, and the fruit trees in the backyard of his parents' house, and my heart swells with love and pride and sadness, all at once. To be able to reach up and pick a fig out of a tree as you sit in your backyard reading...can you even imagine? It makes me want to cry a little bit. And so, I am incredibly thankful for my father's persistence (as well as my mother's patience) with my eating habits over the years, and happy that I now, finally, have so much love for dates and figs. See here for further evidence.

I was going to go grocery shopping tonight, but then it started raining really hard and the tornado sirens went off, so I stayed home. Somewhat short on food, I searched my fridge to find some satisfying Dinner Two ingredients (Dinner One was Special K Red Berries and almond milk when I got home from work at 5:15. Classy). I spotted the giant plastic container of dates my father had given me the last time I was at home, the bag of walnuts I bought at the Co-op the other day, and a container of Greek yogurt. It was totally a "HEY GIRL" moment. Meaning, I got real excited.

When Christopher visited me last fall, he seemed to make masterpieces out of practically nothing, at least in terms of food. I remember this dessert he made, poached pears with dates, honey, and cream.

I mean for real, it came out of nowhere. And it was amazing. So, I decided that Dinner Two would be date-based tonight. Please note, I used FANCY dates. That's right, I only eat fancy things.
Dates look like small, fat turds. Or giant raisins. Or both. Whatever gets you excited.
Now, for the extremely technical description of how to remove the pits and put in the walnuts:

1. Wash your hands real good.
2. Dig your fingers into the dates, making a lengthwise opening.
3. Pull out that damn pit.
4. Stuff a walnut back in there.
5. Wash your hands real good again. Probably clean underneath your fingernails for date guts.

Beautiful! Now, here's where my parents would usually leave it and put the dates on a nice plate to serve to guests. But I was in the mood for more ingredients, so I got out the Greek yogurt. Greek yogurt is really good; it's creamy and thick and not sweet. Plus it's full of protein, but I'm more concerned with the deliciousness. Although my father would probably criticize this part, I went ahead with it anyhow. He's a purist, you see, and he has extremely strong opinions on the treatment of fruits. A direct quote from him: When you want to mock lovely fruits, you put chocolate on dates or cheese on figs. This is an insult. Yeah. He is adamant about this. Sorry, Dad.
I drizzled a bit of honey on top of the dates, although it was totally unnecessary because they are incredibly sweet already. But it was a nice touch. It was like there were two different sweetnesses, but they blended together really gently and smoothly.
Dip the honey-covered dates and walnuts into the Greek yogurt, and you got yourself a snack! Yow! Thanks, rain and parents and food that was in the fridge! You made it a good night!