It was a dark and rainy evening...
And since I hadn't ventured further than my mailbox all day, the decision that would help me maintain greatest continuity was to remain parked in the comfort zone of procrastination station instead of going out to shop for soup ingredients. Despite being in my mid 30's, I often act like an elderly lady when it comes to some of my hermit habits.
My adorable 3 1/2 legged excuse for not going further than the mailbox all day
My foodie friend Ally (http://a-girl-and-her-fork.blogspot.com/) had extended me a (kinda last-minute) invite to her soup exchange party on Saturday. I was stoked to get an invitation, but nervous knowing she and her foodie friends would set the bar high. This was the first time I'd cooked specifically for other foodies. Since I always crave hot and sour soup on rainy nights, the decision to make some was easy.
The second batch (didn't make enough for myself the first time)
Being a soup lover, I thought the soup exchange party idea was genius. I agreed to join the party because the instructions were simple: Make 4 quarts of soup, freeze them, bring to party.
Of course, par for my course, I failed to comply with all of the (two) instructions; although, not "on purpose". My standard operating procedure seemingly always includes some kind of masochistic rebellion (often ignoring any "rules") to thwart the possibility of my completing a task with success and in a timely manner. The more familiar term for this may be immaturity or irresponsibility... but in my head, it's a bit more complex.
The thought of heading down the Friday traffic clusterfuck freeway, into the maze of terrible Asian drivers: a.k.a. the parking lot of the Chinese supermarket, in the rain... just didn't appeal to me on any level. Therefore, Kevin Spacey, the Princess Bride and pinot noir were the winning trio. Told myself I'd wake up early tomorrow and pick up the ingredients, make the soup, and head to the party.
Apparently, my subconscious equation for a piece of creative productivity (art) looks something like this:
Task + Procrastination + Anxieties = Beautiful Art (Delicious Soup)
Whereas, the true equation looks more like this:
Task+ Procrastination + Anxieties = Half-assed result & disappointment
On Saturday morning, once again my racist auto accident fears kept me from heading directly to the SF Supermarket where I KNEW I could locate ALL of the necessary ingredients. For your convenience, I have BOLDED any ingredients you will have overcome racist anxieties in order to obtain. I already had these ingredients on hand:
Chinese Black Vinegar (or Mirin) (1/4 cup)
Sugar (1 pinch)
Dry Sherry (or Rice wine) (1/8 cup)
White Pepper (1 tbsp)
Soy Sauce (1/4 Cup)
Cornstarch (3-4 tbsp) + 1 1/2 cups hot water mixed into paste
Ginger knob (2-3 inches minced)
Egg (beaten)
Dried Shiitake mushrooms (handful) (reconstituted with boiling water)
Dried Shiitake mushrooms (handful) (reconstituted with boiling water)
Chili paste (1 tbsp) (used Trader Joe's mushroom based dry chili paste)
Red pepper flakes (1 tsp)
ground turkey meat (1/2 pound)
vegetable oil (1 tbsp)
Firm Tofu (1/2 block cut into strips)
Siracha (to taste)
So instead, I rolled out to the Food Source down the street, where I (unsurprisingly) located only a few of the ingredients:
Bamboo Shoots (1 can) (cut into strips)
Water Chestnuts (didn't end up using)
Chicken Broth (4 cans)
Green onions (3 chopped)
These are the ingredients you can find at your local poor person's and/or white person's grocer
Still stubbornly trying to avoid making my life simple, I traveled to Oto's (Japanese Grocer) in town. They had a can of mixed "sukiyaki" veggies for $8.00. Nope.
On to Raley's... where once again, soy sauce and ramen noodles were pretty much the only options for Asian foods. No purchases made.
On to the Asian Foods Market on Broadway where I was able to find the balance of ingredients, minus wood ear mushrooms (cloud ear fungus):
Straw mushrooms (1 can)
Enokitake (1 can)
Two hours later, I returned home and started (hastily) cooking. When I cook, I look up at least 5 recipes online, combine them in my head, and start the experiment. Warning: This method is not recommended. It is is the opposite of maintaining mise en place; it ends up looking as if a bomb went off on my counter-top due to frantically chopping up missed ingredients to add before it's too late, and having to do twice as many dishes than necessary.
HOT & SOUR SOUP INSTRUCTIONS:
In a wok or large pot:
Heat vegetable oil on medium-high heat
Add turkey, ginger, chili paste, bamboo shoots- stir-fry for 3 minutes
In a small bowl:
Mix Vinegar, soy sauce, white pepper, red pepper, sugar, and sherry
Add to wok & bring to boil
Stir in all mushrooms & chicken broth
Boil for 10 minutes
While the soup is boiling, mix cornstarch and boiling water into a paste.
Add in tofu and green onions.
Stir in: Siracha to taste. Egg. cornstarch paste to thicken.
As you can see, the soup itself is pretty easy to make once you have overcome ridiculous self-imposed anxieties and obtained all of the ingredients. Obviously, finishing cooking an hour before the party start time didn't allow me to abide by the freezing instruction. For storage, it's probably better freeze the soup because it doesn't hold up well in the fridge. This recipe makes only about four pints, not four quarts. Go figure... I mis-judged the size of my wok.
In rare form, I made it to the party on time (I wasn't driving). Before my ride came, I decided to smoke to "ease" my social anxieties, knowing full-well that it has just the opposite effect on me; I lose all coordination and get paranoid. My fumbly fingers dropped a container of soup upon arrival, exacerbating my anxiety.
It's always been difficult for me to complete tasks without getting overwhelmed by anxiety or overcome by self-sabotage. The only way I can describe it is that I'm on an oxymoronic quest to both succeed and fail simultaneously. According to Psychology Today, leading your own horse to the proverbial failure pasture is a fucked up way to attempt to maintain control. (still pondering this)
Along with being amazing cooks, the other ladies at the party were kind, smart, and great conversationalists. But the entire experience scared the shit out of me. Maybe I'm having a 30-something crisis? One of the ladies shared a story about her sister, who I assume must be in her 50's, and who never had any children. This woman apparently has many crafty hobbies including making (award-winning) lace and clothes for her American Girl Doll collection. Is this what happens to a woman who does not have kids? They become Claire Underwood and/or doll collectors? Fuck me... this could be the future me?
CREEPY for ages 13+! But... those baby dolls need some clothes!
I used to have a neighbor who collected dollhouses. When I was a child, was in his late 40's and lived in the basement of his parent's house, with his dollhouses. He used to invite me over to "play" but I wasn't allowed to move any of the dolls or furniture in the houses. Obviously my parents wouldn't allow me to go over and play without their supervision, because this is decidedly abnormal creepy behavior for an adult.
Being adopted has given me a unique perspective on family and parenting. Maybe being adopted has also given me abandonment issues, but that is another blog. My four-legged (well, one 3 1/2 legged at this point) kids are the only kids in our household. For a long time I didn't think I wanted kids, not because I don't like them (I love kids!) but because I couldn't provide the "perfect" environment and provisions for raising a child. Being an artist who strives for perfection in all aspects of life, everything would have to meet that impossible dream standard.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Luther Vandross!
Just as I self-sabotaged the possibility for my hot & sour soup's optimum success, I've applied the same self-sabotage tactics in regard to setting myself up for any other "success", including having children. I've serial-dated men who can't commit and remained in LTR's with them. I've moved around the country aimlessly and away from all my supportive social groups. I've primarily chosen a career in service industry. Surely, you know someone who has done the same, or maybe you think I'm talking about you. All I know is that I'm too young and hot to be soured by an infinite loop life, and this self-sabotage bullshit needs to end now because I refuse to collect dolls or make lace.
