broken english

Yesterday, I was trying to find out roughly how my Russian aunt Maya made her delicious chicken soup. See, when you search for "russian chicken soup", sometimes, appropriately, you get Russians typing in recipes for their chicken soup. I don't know why exactly I think this is sooooo hilarious, but look at how adorably broken these directions are. (Try reading them to yourself in a thick Russian accent, it takes it up a notch.)

- add the flour till pastry will be not sickly and will be elastic
- knead it near 10 min
- to roll it for think circle and live it for 5-10 min
- powder it flour
- and.... mmmm how it will be in english.... make from pastry something like tube... you can see it in the photo...
- slice it for think pieces.
- and live it for 10-15 min
- preparing the boiling water
- add the noodles in boiling water for 2 min (for come down the flour)
- after add the noodles in chicken bouillon and prepare till noodles will be ready

I know that doesn't sound too much like a soup recipe, I think in that section she's teaching us how to make homemade noodles for the soup. Anyway, if you want to learn how to make Russian Chicken Noodle Soup by the way Nadya makes it, go here.

can't wait

Say what you want about Guy Ritchie... the fact that he's the one making the Sherlock Holmes film is effing brilliant. His trademark underbelly-esque tone is the perfect counterpoint to the classic cheesiness of this story. Will it be an "important film"? No. But I bet it will be entertaining as all get out. I'm pumped.

fancy

Everyone who knows me well is aware that I'm a bit in love with all things French. I love cooking French food (obviously) and I'm perpetually planning a vacation there that I never seem to take. I've got a list of places I would love to go, one of them being Poilâne. One uneventful weekday evening I was shopping at Metropolitan Market just minutes away from my house... and what do I see? An authentic Poilâne loaf, shipped from Paris. That's just amazing.

this is how you turn on a light at microsoft

No wonder.

silly signage

Most of us are no stranger to the smattering of accidentally funny things on the internet. I have a long standing love for engrish.com and the like. These findings, however, were not a byproduct of a language barrier. Nope. These are just some signs I happened to see in the good ole USofA.

human nature.

Thank you to Rebecca Trump for finding and sharing this little treat. [pun]

there's a celebrity in our midst

My name is Stefanie, and I'm an animals-on-the-web-aholic. If you have my, uh, problem... you might have read about Cooper the photographer cat. Cooper's dad puts a camera on his collar once a week and every two minutes the camera snaps a picture from Cooper's perspective. The results are surprisingly good. This week when I took Fig to get her adorable case of tape worms checked out, I spotted this. Cooper goes to my vet! I feel cool by association.

what does joy smell like?

In tough times (specifically, 1930: Depression times) Jean Patou created Joy which is now a classic scent. I'm not particularly into fragrances... but this illustration is just lovely.

You can read more in the NYT piece Eau de Woe.

tomatoes everywhere!

This just in: I didn't kill my tomato plants. It's true! Against all odds they survived, and they are quite tasty.

You'll notice that the tomatoes on the left side of the tray are red and the ones on the right are orange. This has nothing to do with ripeness. I special ordered Sun Gold tomatoes, and somehow a red cherry tomatoes plant found its way in. Variety is the spice of life I guess, so no harm done.

I'm tempted to go all out and get chickens. Too far?

the roots. how i got over. 10.20.09

Oh I love The Roots. Their new album is about to drop, so naturally, I need to SHOUT IT TO THE ROOFTOPS! (a.k.a. quietly blog about it.) I hear organs. I hear gospel goodness. I've pre-ordered it; there will be a physical disc involved. This is high school-esque enthusiasm and it feels good.

twenty something and sick in america

Each person in this country has had their own unique experience with our health care system. My experience has been one of great struggle. I hope that by sharing my story, it may shed some light on the current debate. I'm posting it here so that anyone who reads it can link to it or share it in hopes of making progress on improving healthcare for Americans.

Summer of 2006 was an exciting time for me; I had just graduated from college and I had big dreams. I embarked on a six month internship with a Intel, and while I was there I got a heavy dose of what working for a large corporation was like. I decided to change my direction and I moved to New York City. Amazingly, at 23, I landed my dream job. I was working for a small research and design consultancy that did interesting, ambitious, high profile projects. Like so many small consulting firms, they did not offer insurance. I hesitated to make that kind of sacrifice, but I couldn’t imagine turning down a once in a lifetime professional opportunity. I’ve heard so many people say that 20 somethings don’t have insurance because we think we are invincible. I can’t speak for everyone, but in my case (and many of my friends) we are terrified by being uninsured. Being young creative professionals, we seek health coverage... but it's unexpected. We are up against an invisible wall.

After a few months went by, I was still loving my job. I looked into insurance options, but they were so far beyond what I could afford that I could hardly consider them. Even though I had frequent and severe migraine headaches, paying the monthly premium was not an option. By the time I was finished paying my rent and bills I typically had a about $200 remaining for the month, and the cheapest plan I could find was $450/mo. During Fall ‘07, I developed an ulcer in my throat. It hurt so bad that I dreaded eating. I ate as little as I possibly could to avoid the burning, and ended up loosing weight. One of my friends called her family doctor as requested that I be worked in at a special rate. The medicine he prescribed healed an ulcer that I had for 4 months in just 2 weeks. I was relieved. Even though I decidedly could not afford a plan that would cover doctor’s visits, my recent brush with the system scared me to the point that I began looking into catastrophic insurance plans. They were around $180 per month, and would kick should I incur medical expenses more than $10,000. I was devastated. I was working roughly 60 hours a week in a job I was exceedingly proud to have… and I was still broke and unhealthy. After just one year of having my dream job, I left it behind.

This time, I decided, no more small consultancies. Health benefits were a non-negotiable. I started my job search with optimism. While looking for a new job in Spring of 2008, my health took a significant downward turn. At first I just had a rash and I felt mysteriously sore. Within a few weeks that soreness turned into weakness. Getting dressed every day felt like a workout. My arms barely had the strength to assemble a sandwich. At this point I knew that I simply had to see a doctor, so I went to the free clinic. The doctor spent about 30 minutes asking me questions about my symptoms, and after that they told me that they wanted to run some tests. The tests would cost several hundred dollars, so they referred me to a social worker. The social worker told me that if I could not afford an individual plan, my best option was to apply for Medicaid. It would take 6-8 weeks to see if I was approved, yet I needed tests immediately. She also told me that if I began making money again, I would no longer be eligible for the plan. That path seemed futile, so out of sheer desperation—I fibbed my way through a screener for an individual plan in Georgia, where my family lives. By omitting the facts about my current health I was approved. The next day, I boarded a plane to Atlanta. The plan started immediately, but I had to wait two weeks to have doctor visits covered. The next two weeks were the longest weeks of my life. I became weaker. At this point, I could not bathe myself. When I went to bed I could barely pull the covers over my body because they felt so heavy. Finally, the two weeks came to a close and I saw a general practitioner. He ran some blood work and referred me to a Rheumatologist. I had muscle and skin biopsies taken and they were sent to a pathologist. Within three weeks, I had a diagnosis. I have Dermatomyosotis. It is a rare chronic disease in which my own immune system attacks the muscles in my arms, legs, and esophagus, as well as the skin. The mystery was solved, but the battle was hardly over.

A few weeks after I had my diagnosis, I was informed that the underwriting department for the insurance company was reviewing my case. As if I wasn’t having a hard enough time coping with the reality of my sickness, I now had to prepare for the very real possibility of being kicked off of my health plan. I knew my only way out was to get a job to acquire coverage. Unfortunately the prescriptions I was taking weren’t working too well. My weakness continued to be severe, the rash spread all over my body creating open sores, and I developed swallowing difficulty so grave that my doctor advised that I should not eat food unattended should I choke. My world was crumbling, and out of necessity for the next few months I devoted my energy to updating my resume and adding new projects to my portfolio. Miraculously, I landed an interview at Microsoft. Traveling on my own was a scary prospect. How would I lift my luggage? Would my interviewers notice anything was wrong? I strategically packed my bag to keep it light. On the day of the interview I wore a turtleneck (in June, by the way) because my neck was covered in rashes. We took the stairs to the meeting room, and my heart raced as I pulled the weight of my body with each step, trying my hardest to keep up with them. The company provided lunch for the group, and I nervously chewed my food— hoping that I would not have one my my routine swallowing mishaps in front of them. Somehow or another, I made it through the day. And what's more... they offered me the job.

That summer was spent making preparations to move. I was scared to begin working regular hours, after all I barely had enough energy to drag myself from doctor visit to doctor visit. The pressure became even more intense, when as I had expected— the individual plan I was on was declared null and void for past and present costs. I was now in debt for thousands of dollars worth of services. I tried to shake my fear of beginning work in my fragile state because the alternative of further amassing debt was even more grim. Microsoft offers some of the most comprehensive benefits of any company in the world, so I simply convinced myself that this undertaking would truly change my health for the better. Looking back on it, I don't know how I got through those first few months. I moved 3,000 miles away, stayed in temporary housing and a motel, I feverishly hunted for apartments, and I was also visiting medical specialists and receiving treatments— all the while trying to fill my new daunting role at Microsoft. After those first several months passed, however, something amazing happened: I started to feel better.

I had done it. I worked the system and parlayed my skills to save myself from a terrible situation. Yes, it was bad to begin with— but without landing that job, it most certainly would have been far worse. I'm not 100% better by any stretch, but I can get through a normal day without much struggle... which is progress I couldn't have imagined a year ago. It's something of a Cinderella story, really. I was sick and uninsured, and now I am on a famously comprehensive plan with my health steadily improving. There's just one big problem... this is the United State's version of a happy ending. This is the best case scenario for an uninsured person getting sick in America. Having lived it myself, I can tell you that I would not wish this fate on anyone. It has been the great struggle of my life. But the hardship isn't over for me. I used to have dreams of starting up my own design consultancy, but given my dependency on my health insurance, I don't even consider that path now. Generally speaking, I feel trapped.

I ask everyone who is having reservations about a public option to consider how common it is for young, ambitious, hard working people in this country end up in a health care nightmare like mine. We can do better. We can start today.

new memorex packaging

Honestly, it's such a successful redesign that I would totally pay more for the same product. Which means they hit the nail on the head, considering that I am a 25 year old female... their target demographic.

amanda cox, you're brilliant.

This graphic might not look like much at first glace, but follow this link to slide 9, and it's pretty likely you'll be blown away. I've been stuffed to the gills with economic analysis lately, most of it producing a "yeah right" sort of reaction. But this? This goes beyond data porn (which, don't get me wrong, I love the stuff) but at best, it tells a story in a rich way. Visualizations like this one do more than that, they make us smarter for having seen it.

Shout out to Julie for sending it my way.

now that's clever

Somehow this graphic designer took a show about the friendship between a milkshake, a meat wad, and fries... and turned the DVD Bauhaus-cool. I'm jealous.

P.S. Two anthropomorphic food posts in a row. Who knew?

___ + eyes

The feat of making successful personification is a doable one... just add eyes. In this case, you open up the refrigerator door and they seem to say "Where have you been?! It's lonely and dark in here. And so COLD!"

lessons from the underworld, doggy edition

Okay, this isn't a good video... this is a sort of lame video with a great (or perhaps sad) moment. The dogs FACE. It's as if the sheer act of resisting the treat sucked his very soul. Poor thing, I feel bad for him, but I keep watching this over and over.

As a side note, I think it's funny that the "treat" in question was a plate of cupcakes; a plate of bacon would have been far more compelling.

an experiment in getting to the point

Big A+ goes to charlesandmarie.com for sparing their customers from shipping jargon. Bottom line only. Love it. Of course there's a little link you can follow if you just want more info (that would not be me...) but they haven't traded information for wit and efficiency. I was in the process of buying a super rad flash drive which I must admit, I'm far more enthusiastic about than a cheeky, albeit useful, dropdown.

wow, that wasn't helpful.

Step 1: Break apart chopsticks.
Step 2: The picture won't help you, but you just hold them in your hand the way you are supposed to hold chopsticks. Figure it out.
Step 3: Since you're holding them perfectly with no real instruction, just start picking up food. That's what chopstick are for... picking up food.

These instructions are supposed to be a courtesy, but it seems more like they're mocking people who don't know how to use them... like, "Let me help you. Well, you just do it, stupid."

ratatouille’s ratatouille

I love Pixar. I love cooking... so making this dish was, well, lovely.

A little back story: Pixar, since they're the smartest/coolest people ever, took learning about food quite seriously while making Ratatouille. This involved taking cooking classes, dining in Parisian restaurants, and spending some time with famed chef Thomas Keller. One of the contributions Keller made to the film was the re-imagined version of this French classic. I must admit it was a little odd to make the fancy pants version before a traditional one... but, come on, it was fun. Much thanks to Smitten Kitchen for digging up this recipe and making it more visible to people like me. My version was somewhat of a hybrid of the super intense Confit Byaldi (Keller's version) and the abridged Smitten Kitchen take on it.

For the sauce:
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup finely diced yellow onion
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 1/3 cup canned crushed tomatoes
1/4 cup roasted red peppers, drained and chopped finely
1 sprig thyme (optional)
1 sprig parsley (optional)
1/2 bay leaf (optional)
1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt

For the vegetables:
1 zucchini (4 to 5 ounces)
1 Japanese eggplant, (4 to 5 ounces)
1 yellow squash (4 to 5 ounces)
2 or 3 Roma tomatoes
1/2 teaspoon minced garlic
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/8 teaspoon thyme leaves
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper


Preheat oven to 375. Combine oil, garlic, and onion in medium skillet over low heat until very soft but not browned, about 8 minutes. Add tomatoes with their juices. Next add thyme, parsley, and bay leaf (if using). Simmer for about 10 minutes until little liquid remains, do not brown; add chopped roasted red peppers. Season with salt, then remove and discard herbs. Spread the mixture in the bottom of 8-inch skillet or round pan.

Trim the ends off the eggplant, zucchini, yellow squash, and tomatoes; cut into very thin slices approximately 1/16-inch thick. Atop the tomato sauce, arrange slices of prepared vegetables concentrically from the outer edge to the inside of the baking dish, overlapping so just a bit of each flat surface is visible, alternating vegetables. You may have a handful leftover that do not fit.

Sprinkle garlic, oil, and thyme leaves over vegetables; season the top with salt and pepper to taste. Bake tightly covered with foil for 40 minutes, then uncovered for 15 minutes more. (If you've got time, bake at 275 covered for 2 hours, then uncovered for 30 minutes.)

Serve with crusty french bread (traditional) or with couscous (non traditional, but pretty darn good). Yields 4 servings as a side dish, 2 servings as a main.

the cheesiest song ever written

It's true, "Careless Whisper" wins the prize. Occasionally I'll hear it in a pharmacy or something, and I'll think to myself "How did they cram this much cheese into one song?"... mind you, the tone here is more one of reverence than criticism. I mean, the saxophone ALONE, come on.

I like to imagine the natural habitat for this song, if you will. A couple staring longingly into each other's eyes across a heavily shellacked dark wood table in the corner of a bar. She's wearing frosted pink lipstick and he's tapping his cigarette into a hunter green glass ashtray. And when the saxophone plays, he averts his gaze... dramatically closing his eyes. Oh yes. This song is disgusting perfection.