busy week

Whew.  It's after noon on Monday and I am still recovering from a somewhat exhausting, but totally fun, weekend.  My parents arrived in town Wednesday afternoon, and we kept pretty busy the entire time they were here, with trips to the Italian Market, cheesesteaks, a birthday party for Greg, a picnic, the Art Museum, ghost tours, and even some handyman stuff.

One of the minor household irritations since we moved in has been the toilet bowl's tendency to rock back and forth when being, ahem, used.  Spending time on the throne, as they say, was nerve-wracking, as any kind of sudden movement could result in the sensation that the entire toilet was tilting on its side and all the pipes attached to it were shifting in the walls.  Luckily, my dad knows his way around toilets, and with a quick trip to Lowe's for a wax ring and some hardware, he had everything under control.  Next time you're in town, come sit on our toilet! You won't regret it.

Greg's birthday party was a lot of fun.  We had his parents and his brother and soon to be sister-in-law over.  I made the Spider Man birthday cake pictured at the top, my first attempt at baking a cake.  Luckily my mom was there to explain what "grease and flour the pan" means. Seriously, I wasn't quite sure.  Greg did some swordfish on the grill which turned out to be very moist and delicious, and Barb brought some asparagus wrapped in prosciutto and provolone. Between all that and my quick and easy paella, and the beautiful flowers Erin brought, we felt as though we were really dining in style.  It surprised Dave, who up to this point has been served pizza pretty much every time he comes by.

the last word on dentists (I hope!)

The only occasion I have had since getting rid of the Neon to regret our one-car existence was riding the subway home from the dentist yesterday.  It was full of happy, shiny people heading to an afternoon Phillies game.  As they chatted and laughed, all I could do was hope desperately that bloody drool wasn't sliding down my numb lips.  

the great debate

vs.

I'm going to come out with my opinion on this debate right up front so that there is no confusion: I am a TJ's girl.  I have happy memories of stopping by after church when we lived in Southern California circa 1990.  It was always a special treat, and my favorite product was the Hansen's All Natural Peach Soda.  Then, the wasteland years, when Trader Joe's was a distant memory, and the best we could do in Central Indiana was Marsh.  I went away to college on the East Coast, and one day received a call from my mom, who was so excited she could hardly get the words out: "Honey, they're putting in a Trader Joe's near your dad's office!"  I was jealous, but a few years later I got to make a phone call of my own:  "Mom, they're putting in a Trader Joe's--within walking distance of my apartment!!!"  Those were the glory days.

I know Trader Joe's has been criticized as snobby, unnecessary, even expensive.  (See here and here.)  But I'm a sucker, and a fan, and many of their products have a permanent spot in my pantry (their Breakfast Blend fair trade coffee, the roasted tomato red pepper soup, frozen tilapia and crab cakes...).  I find it fairly inexpensive compared to even your standard grocery store, although it can be frustrating if you are simply looking for basic cooking items.  And I will admit that I don't buy their produce because it tends to be subpar.

Being such a fangirl of Trader Joe's, I have always argued with the Whole Foods people, pointing out that Whole Foods can legitimately be called overpriced, and that its patrons are the real snobs.

But.

The other day, coming out of the dentist's office, I needed pita bread and escarole, and figured I could find them both at the Whole Foods around the corner, which would be much easier than making my way to the grocery store near our house later in the day.  And I discovered that, in one area at least, Whole Foods has Trader Joe's beat.  That area is the realm of whole wheat pita bread.

I buy pita bread often, because I make hummus about once a week.  It's a quick, easy, healthy lunch.  When I manage to get to Trader Joe's (now a 10-minute drive) I often linger in front of the pita breads, knowing that the whole wheat is better for me, but also knowing that it will taste like I'm eating a paper bag.  The whole wheat pita I picked up at Whole Foods, on the other hand, was as fluffy and tasty as regular pita bread, and the pitas were bigger as well. (Same number of Weight Watchers points as the smaller Trader Joe's ones, too.)  As reluctant as I am to admit this, it's going to be tough to make myself buy Trader Joe's whole wheat pita bread from here on out.  Luckily, Whole Foods isn't close by, although at my current rate of dental visits per week, I'll be in the neighborhood often enough.

Hummus Recipe:

1 can garbanzo beans, drained, with liquid set aside

4 tablespoons tahini

zest of 1 lemon

juice of 1 lemon

garlic clove

pinch of salt

pinch of cumin

pinch of pepper

Blend together, using reserved liquid to facilitate the blending when necessary.

I prefer it plain, so I avoid flavored hummus, but you could easily throw in the items they use to market all kinds of varieties: roasted red peppers, eggplant, extra garlic, spinach, pine nuts, olives, feta, etc.

"If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?"

To market, to market, to buy some phat veggies.

The good news:  I got all of the above veggies--broccoli, red onions, lemons, cherry tomatoes, plum tomatoes, cilantro, basil, kiwi fruit, and a jalapeno--for $10.25 on my trip to the Italian market this morning.  And I walked, a mile each way, so I got some exercise in as well.

The bad news:   With apologies to the 3 Doors Down (and if you recognized the post title, you are only half as lame as I am for using it), I found my kryptonite at the market as well.  It was one of those specialty kitchen stores, full of fancy-dan items that will likely only be used for one recipe in your repertoire, like a corn slitter or a Le Creuset Tagine.  This kind of place makes me drool and imagine that I have my own cooking show...perhaps "Nicole's Simple Kitchen" or "The Rice and Beans Hour."  And then I remember that, really, rice and beans is my favorite meal to cook and eat, with fish and brown rice a close second, and that maybe I don't need the set of six ravioli molds or the grain mill with stone and steel burrs.

I did grab a lemon zester, though.  I'll use that a lot.

Here's the website for the store, in case you too indulge fantasies of winning Top Chef: www.fantes.com

4th of July/Happy Birthday Greg!

Greg's birthday was July 2, and in honor of the occasion, we decided to clean out the back "yard" and get a grill as his birthday gift.  He already knew that he wanted a charcoal grill rather than a gas grill, which was convenient because the charcoal ones tended to be much cheaper.  We ended up with a pretty basic little number and decided to try it out for the 4th of July.  

Making the occasion even more fun, our friend Rachel came up from D.C., and our friend Michael, who lives in Philly, also joined us.  I marinated a bunch of veggies and fresh fish and made a couscous/mango/lime dish to go with it.  

It turned out to be pretty clear why so many people prefer gas to charcoal.  We're going to have to practice a lot in order to figure out how to get enough heat to really grill, rather than simply warm, the food.  But we played liberally with lighter fluid, and with an assist from George Foreman, we eventually had a pretty tasty meal.

We also landscaped our entire yard for the occasion.

After dinner, we set off for the city's big 4th of July celebration--a free John Legend concert on the steps of the art museum, followed by fireworks.  The concert was good, in spite of the rain, and the fireworks were impressive.  The only complaint I have is that I expected the grand finale to be set to some rousing, patriotic anthem--the Star Spangled Banner, God Bless America, etc., and instead, it was a treacly, boring song I had never heard before--I'm a Red White and Blue American.  Come on, Philly!  Where is John Philip Sousa??

At the end of the night, after standing in the rain for hours, we were pretty beat.  Luckily, I had my ghost tour cape with me to keep me warm.

nightmares in dentistry part two

My temporary crown fell out.  I guess it's not a big deal but I haven't been able to get ahold of the dentist yet.  It's strange having a stump in my mouth instead of a tooth.

nightmares in dentistry

About a month ago, I went to the dentist and learned I had to have a root canal.  This information wasn't really surprising, because over a year ago one of my fillings cracked, and a few months ago it fell out, leaving a giant hole in Tooth 3.  (That's how the dentist and hygienist refer to it.  I refer to it as...well, it would be impolite to say.  Let's just say the adjectives "dirty" and "sonafa" are involved.)

I returned to the dentist for my scheduled root canal last Thursday.  I was very nervous because I hate dental work, but I took a magazine in with me to read during any downtime so that I wouldn't fixate on the pain and terror.  Also, Greg came with me since he was off work.

Things started out OK.  The numbing process involved multiple injections directly into the roof of my mouth, which was painful, but I had been numbed up before and knew what to expect. Then the dentist set up the area (my mouth) which involved clamps and a tiny rubber sheet.  If you've watched hospital shows on TV and can picture the big blue sheet with a hole right over the area to be operated on, that's what I imagine my mouth looked like, just in miniature. Although this was uncomfortable, it was interesting.  So far so good. 

Then I sat there, mouth open as far as I could get it, for two hours.  Drool began collecting in the back of my throat, and swallowing was difficult because I imagined my tongue somehow getting in the path of the drill, leading to bloodshed and a future without being able to speak or lick ice cream.  Eventually the dentist realized I was drowning in my own saliva and put one of those suction things in.  Although I was developing lockjaw, I thought things were going surprisingly well.

Then the dentist told me my root canal was so bad that she would have to close me up and send me to a specialist.  This is where I almost started crying for the first time, because of the wasted terror and the giant bill I knew a specialist would involve.  Luckily, she called in the senior dentist and he figured out whatever was confusing her, and she told me I wouldn't have to go to the specialist.  At this point, I was elated, and I loved the dentists and wanted to hug both of them.  But I couldn't because I was still trussed up like a roasting turkey.

Time went by.  At about the two and a half hour mark, the root canal proper was finished.  [Any descriptions of actual dentistry in this post, by the way, are based on my conjecture.  I don't really know anything of the process.]  The dentist had cleared out the decay and inserted multiple little plastic toothpicks into my mouth, I assume to serve as fake roots.  She then went in with a burning rod, I imagine to burn the tops of the toothpicks together and make it secure. 

It was right here that everything went to pot.  The dentist did not realize that she was resting the burning rod on my lip.  I did realize that I was suddenly feeling intense, burning pain.  I halfheartedly waved my hand, figuring she would realize her mistake and move the rod any second.  But the pain got worse.  The rod didn't move.  I started to panic, and tried to scream, but of course I couldn't make a sound, except perhaps "urgle urgle!"  I started thrashing.  She noticed.  She realized she was burning me and moved the rod, with the slightest hint of an apology: "Oh, whoops."  

My heart was pounding, and I felt I had just lived through one of those nightmares where you see something bad coming towards you but you can't run or scream.  I tried to breathe deeply and relax, but I was getting seriously worked up.  I managed to get a tenuous grip on reality and continue to sit calmly in the chair.  The dentist began taking molds of my teeth for the temporary crown, and I could tell the end was near.

However, the experience would not be complete until I had been utterly humiliated.  At about the 3.5 hour mark, the numbing agent was beginning to wear off for the second time.  I felt a little more than I had earlier, but it didn't hurt, so I just went with it.  At one point I must have winced, and the dentist realized I was less numb, so she grabbed the giant syringe again.  As she began the round of injections, my mind took leave of my body.  I knew the shots into the roof of the mouth were coming and I knew they would hurt.  She must have seen me getting nervous, so she asked, "You don't feel this, do you?"

Yes.  I felt it.  And it hurt like a Tooth 3.  That she didn't realize I was in serious pain made me panic again, and this time I couldn't control it.  I started crying and drooling and trying to sit up and making really loud "waauuugghurrgle gurrgle" noises.  I knew I looked like a fool, but that just made things worse.  The dentist and hygienist sprung into "Oh no, we're dealing with a crazy person" action, pulling clamps and pins out of my mouth.  They returned me to a seating position and plied me with tissues and a glass of water.  I tried to drink but my mouth was numb, so the entire gulp dribbled down the front of my shirt, leaving me soaking wet and completely embarrassed.  

After I calmed down, they finished up pretty quickly and sent me out front to pay the bill.  When I saw Greg standing there holding a beautiful flower (pictured above) I started weeping again, and ran straight into the bathroom.  Eventually I composed myself and we went home, with a stop at the pharmacy for hardcore painkillers.

I'm doing fine now, but I have to go back for "tooth lengthening"--I'm not sure what that is but the dentist said it involves sutures,--a filling, a cleaning, and replacing the temporary crown with the permanent one.  Part of me figures it can't be any worse, but the other part of me knows that it can.