Culinary Adventures

Lots of free time, recipes, food-blogging friends, as well as the availability of exotic foods all but beckoned me to the kitchen this long and brutal winter. After my successful Thanksgiving dinner, I was feeling pretty good about my chances in the kitchen. Two plus years here and my culinary repertoire had not expanded much beyond fried rice and dumplings. I still can't manage to make noodles that don't look like a pile of brains unless they're instant (the noodles, not the brains). However, I decided to step out of my and our family's comfort zone and try some completely different foods.

One of my favorite movies of recent is Julie and Julia, the one about Julia Childs and a woman who cooks her way through her cookbook then blogs about it. I loved that idea and applauded the woman who really did that, knowing I never would have the will power to get through it and be diligent enough to write every day. One of my high school buddies had started a blog last year following the same gist. She was going to choose a different recipe, cook it for her family, and then post their reactions good and bad for all to see. Lynne over at 365 Days of Baking just finished her year of recipes. I've got to hand it to her. Not only did she successfully complete her task, she also inspired me.

Indian food is my new favorite. I love the flavors and am especially fond of naan bread. I researched a bunch of recipes, found the ingredients and set about cooking. Dinner was a long time coming as I didn't figure in the time the dough needed to rise, but when Katie kept sneaking bites from the skillet, I knew I had a winner. The butter chicken and garlic naan disappeared.

Another keeper, if only in my book, was the cranberry scones recipe. Downton Abbey and all of the Brits around here make tea time look like so much fun. I wanted to get in on it. Surprisingly, scones are not too difficult, or rather the recipe I found was not difficult. Sydney even helped me. She was not all that jazzed with the results and told me we needed to cook something she liked next time.

Teriyaki was my tried and true marinade, but it was time to give it a much deserved break. All of the imported marinades and barbecue sauces are fairly pricey. I scanned the internet in hopes of finding some tasty alternatives. Feeling daring, I combined several recipes, adding more of one ingredient, substituting others, and hoping for a decent outcome. I poured my concoction on a pork tenderloin, setting aside the remaining sauce. When everyone, including Sarah (who never uses sauces) asked for more sauce, I secretly did a happy dance.

I'd promised myself and the family to try at least one new recipe a week, whether it be a sweet treat, marinade or full-blown meal. I've kept the promise and steadily increased our favorites-in-rotation. Yes, we still enjoy taco night, but with little variations. Yes, we still have spaghetti night, but we've now tried five or six different kinds of pastas and sauces.

No, I have not mastered the art of boiling Chinese noodles...but I am more confident that I will.

Weddings

A couple of weeks ago, on an ordinary Thursday afternoon, I glanced out the living room window and was perplexed by the sight of hundreds of pink balloons floating down the street. I watched their procession towards the house across from ours. A half dozen groundskeepers were cleaning and pruning. Some more were busy lining the walk way leading to the house with beautiful flowers. The windows were covered with red Chinese characters. The pink balloons were quickly strung into a billowy arch at the beginning of the walk way by two older women. "How lovely, new neighbors!" I thought.

An hour later, The sound of fireworks brought me outside. Our neighborhood doesn't allow the lighting of fireworks in the compound. At the center of the street, four guards and four photographers were gathered around the ignited strand of firecrackers. Rules were being broken. The loud cracking went on for a good fifteen minutes. While the huge box of enormous 'bottle rockets' shot into the air, a line of cars appeared. Seven Mercedes and one BMW SUV filled the street. The cars were decorated with flowers and ribbons and filled with wedding party members. More people came walking in, their cars were probably at the entrance to the compound. The photographers were frantically snapping thousands of shots, while the mother of the bride, I assume, was barking orders to everyone. A gigantic boxed cake was gingerly carted from the back of one of the Merecedes into the house by three sharp dressed men. Three taffeta ensconced females helped the blushing bride from the BMW. The newlyweds were then directed to the pink archway, where they stood for five minutes. I'm not sure what took place, but words were said and more photos were taken. The happy couple and their entourage then went into their house, a wedding present. Less than an hour later, the party ended and everyone left, including the couple. All traces of the party were quickly cleaned, the flowers were removed, the archway was dismantled, and the firework remnants swept away. The only thing that remained was the BMW, another wedding present.

Just another ordinary day here in China.

Posting Issues

So, I am fairly close to being caught up with my posts. I am close, that is, if you don't want any pictures. Once again, I am having computer issues and am unable to load any pictures. I've got a backlog of more than a dozen posts, but they don't have photos. And, honestly, it's the pictures that make most of my posts worth viewing. If I can't correct the problem in the next couple of days, I guess I'll post what I have and go back at a later date to add pictures. If it's not one thing...it's the other.

Long, Cold Winter

The first two months of 2012 have been relatively uneventful...as uneventful as things can get for an expat family. The Christmas break lasted a little over three weeks, the girls went back to school for two weeks and then were off again for the Chinese New Year for ten days. Since we didn't go anywhere during either break, this winter seems to be much longer and colder than the previous two. It is almost expected that expats take exotic vacations. When we told people we were sticking around, they looked at us questioningly, waiting for us to explain. Quite frankly, we didn't feel like battling the crowds and the grossly inflated prices. Most folks I've talked to who did go away commented on both of those.

As the rain continues to fall almost every day, the mood falls as well. I wondered if I was the only glum one. At the bus stop this week, I discovered I was not alone in my depression. All of us lamented the harshness of the elements and what it's done to our psyche. We also vowed to help each other out of the funk.

Now don't get me wrong. I know 'tai tais' have it easy over here. However, it's not all massages and shopping trips. In fact, I haven't had a proper massage in almost a year (she says with a heavy sigh and rolling eyes). The every day tasks are not as simple as they are back home. I fear for my life every time I go out in this beastly traffic with thousands of folks who should not be behind the wheel of a car. Add rain and cold to the equation and I don't even want to leave the house. Grocery shopping with gloves and a scarf on is the norm since the stores are not heated.

I can count on one hand how many times I've seen blue sky this year. I can count with one finger how many times the temperature has gone above 55 degrees. Thankfully, the girls seem unaffected, except they can't play outside every day. Larry even hits the links in this hideous weather. Not me. Give me the mosquito-infested, swimmingly humid, sweltering heat any day.

Sleepovers Should Not Be Called Sleepovers

On December 1, the twins turned nine...NINE! The shock of that was coupled by the fact they wanted to have a sleepover. Ugh, not another one. I'd barely recovered from Katie's spa tween sleepover and the Brownies' sleepover. However, Sydney was not going to give me a break. She keeps a running tally of the injustices of being a younger sibling and informed me Katie'd already had two sleepover parties and she and Sarah hadn't had a one. The next point of negotiations was the invite list. Sarah's list was small, Syd's was not. They still wanted to have a joint party, which made me very happy. I don't imagine my luck will hold much longer. We managed to settle on each inviting three friends. Sydney worked out in meticulous detail the events that would take place, and a layout of where everyone would sleep in the family room. Sarah made the invitations. They told me my only task was cooking. "Sure", I thought.

As with Katie's party, we picked up the party goers at school. These girls had packed as if it was a week-long vacation. Mr. Liu just laughed and piled it all and them into the van. Sydney checked her itenarary and instructed the girls the order of events, which was met with lots of "But let's do this first!" and "Can we wait and do that later?" With a huge harrumph, she relented, but only on a few items.

We stopped at Dairy Queen for a pre-dinner Blizzard. As soon as we entered the neighborhood and the girls saw the boys outside playing, all Blizzards were left on the counter and out the door they went. I saw Sydney check 'playing with boys' off her list. Dinner was devoured in record time and they were ready to dance. I soon became DJ Mel with the duty of spinning constant tunes, which then turned into Freeze Dance. The amount of energy two Belgians, a German, a Mexican, an Aussie, an Italian, and two Americans expended was a sight to behold. I'd jacked them all up with plenty of sugar so I had nobody to blame but myself.

It was after 11pm before sleeping bags were unrolled. I figured it was safe for me to go upstairs, but at 1:30am, I still heard giggling. At 3am, everyone was asleep, with the television blaring. I hoped they would sleep late. Nope. 5:30am brought the first sounds. By 7, they were clamoring for breakfast. They were all outside again at 8, which left me with the task of rolling up sleeping bags, and sorting discarded clothing.

They tried to talk me into extended the party since Katie extended hers, but to no avail. I knew every one of those girls would go home and pass out. When I saw one of the mums that next week at school, I asked if her daughter was tired after the party. She said she wanted to send her to our house every weekend, because for the first time she didn't argue when told to go to bed.

Thanksgiving

In fifteen years of marriage, I can count on one hand how many turkeys I've cooked. The first one was a successful fifteen pound beauty for my parents and Larry in our little mill house in Seneca. Much too much bird for four people, but it sure was pretty. The second was a Cajun marinated deep fat fried one when my brother and family visited. It too, was tasty, up until Katie barfed at the table after her Uncle Mark threatened to eat the food from her plate and she shoved the contents into her mouth.

The third and perhaps best tasting turkey was the one cooked this past Thanksgiving. Of course, China does not recognize the holiday, though many restaurants offer traditional meals. We've gone out the past two years here, but we were all hankering for some home cooking. I had plenty of time on my hands again since I was no longer working, so I scoured the stores in both Suzhou and Shanghai. I found all the ingredients and started cooking the day before Thanksgiving. Since both Larry and the girls had work and school respectively, I planned the meal for exactly at 6pm. No time for appetizers or drinks. Straight to the meal.

This was the first time I had cooked the entire meal by myself and I was pretty pleased. I have never and will never claim to be a great cook, but I do know that I can cook. I just don't want to admit it. I might end up in the kitchen every holiday meal. Every once and awhile, I like to plate up one of my 'grue' dishes, which inevitably gets me a pass from the kitchen for a night. Luckily, no 'grue' on Thanksgiving. Even the gravy was delicious . It could have been that we were just so starved for a taste of Americana, but we devoured the turkey, stuffing, potatoes, squash, broccoli, gravy, biscuits and pumpkin pie as if we weren't sure of the next time we'd get such delicacies. Frankly, I didn't even mind doing the dishes that night and looked forward to leftovers for the next few.

Hard Pill to Swallow

This has been a difficult post to write and the reason for my winter funk. Everything was going along as usual...or as usual as things can be over here. A chaotic routine had developed. The girls would head to school, Larry to work and after Mr. Liu had dropped off Larry he'd return to take me to the kindergarten.

The kids in my morning classes were more subdued than than the ones in my afternoon classes, but still had plenty of energy to run me ragged. We were never in our seats. We danced, sang and played games. Some days between classes, I'd simply go home and lay on the floor, trying to catch my breath. My girls thought I'd lost my mind since I was always singing every childrens' song I could think of. Falling asleep at night was no longer a problem, I was so drained. But, it was a wonderful feeling. I absolutely loved going to the school. The children looked at me like I was a saint, which we all know is a stretch. Their parents and grandparents would pat me on the back and shake my hand with huge smiles on their faces. The ego boost I guess I'd been needing was certainly filled by these angels.

So, imagine my surprise when the principal told me that she and several of the teachers wanted to talk to me about my teaching methods. At first I thought they wanted some tips. How foolish of me. I told Larry about the upcoming meeting and his response was "They probably don't want you having fun with the kids. That's not the Chinese way". No, that couldn't be it or could it? Yes, it could.

Three teachers and the principal calmly told me that I wasn't to teach emotions, that the children and I should stay in our seats for the lesson, and the use of games and song should only be used sparingly. They offered me several different methods, complete with CDs. I'm sure I looked like a large mouth bass. I remember snapping my jaw closed and hanging my head in an effort from shedding tears. My thought was how glad I was Larry had prepared me for this even though at the time I didn't believe him.

I suppose in hindsight I could have nodded and accepted their revised methods, but I was so angry I told them I could not teach like that. Children need to be able to express themselves, they learn better and faster when they are entertained and can partake in the entertainment. Of course, I didn't say any of that, I simply told them I wasn't the kind of teacher they wanted. They were shocked and asked me to reconsider. Perhaps, if I'd stayed I eventually could have snuck in some fun times here and there. The communist grip has never shown itself as much as it did that day. I only hope for the sake of the children that grip loosens.

WGC 2011 - Final Round

November 6, 2011

Since we totally missed the best shot of the tournament the previous day, we were out the door and on the road early, committed to staying until the end. The girls even made some colorful signs to flash towards our faves; "We love you, Adam" and "Go Tigers!". Who knew the media frenzy we'd cause.

The 2nd green was deserted when we arrived. We parked ourselves right at the ropes where the players have to walk by. We watched the top half of the pack shoot for the pin and with each passing group the crowd around us grew. Since we were sitting on the ground with the green in front of us, claustrophobia wasn't a problem, but, man, people were packed behind us like sardines. When Jonathan Byrd came through, we flashed the "Go, Tigers!" I wondered, after the fact, if folks got the connection or if they thought we were cheering for a non-present Woods.

By the time Adam's group arrived, we couldn't have moved unless we followed the players inside the ropes. The girls were itching to hold up the 'Adam' sign, but Larry made them wait until all three players had hit their shots into the green. Each one of us girls, sitting next to each other, held a sign with a word. We sat perfectly still and waited until we were noticed. And, boy, were we noticed. The media swarmed us, cameras were clicking, videos were rolling and the announcers stood off to the side relaying it all to whomever was listening on the other end. Granted, most of the media was Asian, and we will never know exactly who saw us. But we ended up on one of ESPN's affiliate stations, AND Adam got a big kick out of it. This happened to be the day after his caddie, Steve Williams, was under fire for making off-color comments about Tiger. He even managed a chuckle.

We moved quickly to the 16th green and stayed there until the final groups came through. Things didn't go so well for Adam and he was basically out of contention, but we cheered anyways. Martin Kaymer caught fire on the back nine and overtook third round leader Frederik Jacobsen.

When it looked like more rain was coming and the temperature dropped, we said good-bye to SheShan. The past three years at the tournament have provided some wonderful memories and chances are we won't get to mingle with players like we did there at any US tournaments. But, who knows...stranger things have happened.

WGC 2011- Round Three

November 5, 2011

Armed with umbrellas, rain jackets, snacks and South Carolina attire (both Clemson and USC), we arrived early Saturday morning. And just like in years past, the place was hopping. The first tee was so crowded, we could only stand on the little knoll behind it. We got to our spot on the 7th green, and again were entertained by the groups. We watched every one come through. The differences between their play around the green were amazing and at times inspiring. The old PGA slogan still holds true. These guys are good!

It started raining a couple of times, but we'd brought umbrellas and jackets. We set up a little shelter, sitting on the jackets, shielded from the rain with propped up umbrellas. After Adam and his group went through, we decided to head in. When we got to the 8th tee, we noticed a backlog of groups. Three groups were waiting, which meant someone was terribly off-course. No, not Adam! Yep, Adam. He'd hit his ball into the abyss that is to the left of the creek on 8. Dozens of folks were frantically searching for his ball, but he eventually had to take a penalty. He ended up only bogeying the hole.

We watched the guys come in and very few stopped to give autographs. We'd pretty much hit up all our favorites, so any more and I would have felt greedy. Katie hoped to get Rory's signature since the twins...well, Syd bragged abut getting it the day before. Quite frankly, I couldn't tell you if Katie got it or not. It looks like it may be there on her hat, but some of the signatures are nothing more than chicken scratch.

We left with the leaders still on the course due to hunger pains, but we just couldn't stomach the high-priced sub par pizza and hot dogs for dinner. Seriously, one would think a high dollar event could at least have decent vending options. By the time we got home, we realized we missed the best shot of the tournament. Adam holed out from the fairway on the 18th and was going to be in the final group. Well, we were going to be ready to cheer him during the final round.

Couldn't Happen Any Other Way

I remember when my parents told me when I graduated from high school and was bawling like a baby because my friends and I were all going to different schools, that college would be the greatest time of my life. I was sure to meet lots of new people and make new friends. While I did meet lots of people and had a good time, I never really connected with a group like I did in high school. Our group was a hodgepodge, a mixture of athletes, artists, brainiacs, and musicians. There was one constant, though. Kristen and I met during field hockey try outs our freshman year. We were inseparable for years and we swore we'd always be friends.

Then life happened.

Our friendship crumbled, but we remained in each other's minds. We knew when the other was in need, we knew when the other got married and other happenings. There was still a connection. The internet and email were crucial in the resurrection of our friendship. Our lives took completely different paths, but that was a surprise to neither of us. We'd always been polar opposites. That was what made us such great friends.

She and her husband are both chiropractors. They have worked and travelled all over the world. They were in Saudi Arabia when I emailed to tell her we were moving to China. She said she'd been to China once and would love to go back someday. I didn't hear from her for a couple of years, not until last fall. She emailed to tell me she and her husband were moving to Shanghai to take a position at one of the international hospitals. We started emailing each other regularly. She would ask questions about China. I'd ask questions about Saudi. We were actually giddy with the thought of seeing each other. We'd figured out our last meeting was back in 1992. She'd come to see me perform at URI, when I was in 'Cabaret'. It was all I could to keep from meeting them at the airport.

We finally met a week after they arrived at the Hong Qiao Pearl Market. They hadn't been to a fake market yet and my girls wanted to give them a lesson in bargaining. They were still tan from their time in the desert and she hadn't changed. We stood in the parking lot for few minutes, hugging each other. My girls immediately swarmed and wanted to show them the market.

We walked and talked, knowing twenty years of stories would take more than an afternoon to cover. So much had happened in our lives that we wanted to share with the other one, but for compounded reasons, we never did. It seemed fitting that we were meeting up again on the other side of the world. Arriving from different directions, with completely different traveled life paths, we were ready to share our stories. We've had a couple of lunches together in Shanghai, and last Tuesday our hubbies met each other. Getting reacquainted will take some time, but it seems we're on the right track. And in the words of my mom "Friends back together, all is right."

WGC - Round Two

November 4, 2011

No sooner did we arrive for the second round than we spotted Adam in all his plaid glory on the practice green. Crowds were still relatively small, so our view was unobstructed and the twins in their pink caught the eye of many players. Several volunteers recognized us from previous years, saying things like, "Aren't you the Phil fans?" or "Who are you cheering for this year?"

We walked out to the 7th green, our favorite spot, and settled in for a few hours. The threesomes came through, treating us to some great and some not-so-great shots. Sydney and Sarah politely applauded at appropriate times and offered words of encouragement to those who faltered. They were rewarded with several balls and smiles.

The afternoon was spent around the clubhouse. The crowds had increased, but the girls and I staked a prime spot right in front. Larry stood on the bridge in between 2 and 18, watching the action from both sides, while we waited for the players after they signed their scorecards. Hunter Mahan gave a wave to the twins as they yelled his name. A few minutes later his caddie came over to them with two autographed balls. Aaron Baddaley was friendly and chatty as he signed their hats. Even though he didn't have a good round, Jim Furyk took a moment to pose with them. You can kind of tell by his half smile-half grimace. Things got out of hand rather quickly when Rory McIlroy appeared. We were still in front, but suddenly we were pinned between a few hundred brazenly rude local fans and the metal barricade. It was all I could do to keep the crowds from crushing us. Rory came to us immediately, which meant the crowd converged. The security team was ready to grab Sarah and cart her over the fence, but I managed to bulldoze our way out. He didn't sign any more after that. Crazy!

With plenty of autographs and golf balls galore, Sydney decided we could leave. She was certain her big sister wouldn't be able to get more during the weekend rounds.