Happy New Year, everybody! Or, as I like to say, Thank Gosh The Party Season Is (Almost) Over For Another Year.
Right there, folks, is a clanging admission of my introversion. I wish I could be one of those people who party hops with gay abandon, getting high on the smell of Jatz, buzzing from witty repartee with charming strangers.
Problem is, I’m just not that particular flavour of fudge sundae.
While nice to see so many of y’all, I’m kind of exhausted by January. I’ve a strong desire to curl up with a book, a bowl of something cool and delicious to eat, and a blasting air conditioner, in the interests of restoring both mind and body from one too many brushed with festive cheer.
The book of the moment, and the reason why I’ve resolved to be more honest about my introversion, is ‘Quiet’, by Susan Cain. If anything about the above paragraphs resonates, you need to read this book. Reading it, I’ve been wondering if SC has been secretly following me around, peering inside my head, my entire life. She’s even written about some silly little introvert behaviours - behaviours which I hitherto believed to be Peggy-exclusive - which are actually quite common in the 50% of the population who are introverts. Apparently, a lot of other introverts frequent the loo multiple times a day, not to answer nature’s call, but for a bit of peace and quiet. And I thought I was the only one! The things you read…
The bowl-food of the moment, and the principal subject of this post, is Sesame Tofu Noodles. I’ve been making this for a while, but feel that it is a recipe particularly suited to these hot, depleted, post-festive weeks. The best thing about this recipe is that it’s spectacularly easy, and makes just enough for one hungry introvert to slurp while reading.
Sesame Tofu Noodles
Ingredients
150g silken tofu, cubed
1 clove garlic, whole but bashed with the flat of a knife
1 spring onion, finely sliced
1 tablespoon sesame seeds (you could toast them, if you liked)
1 tablespoon mirin
1 tablespoon soy sauce (plus extra, to taste)
1 heaped tablespoon tahini
1 teaspoon rice wine vinegar
Chilli flakes (only if you want them, this is fine without)
1 head bock choi, sliced
A couple of stems of Chinese broccoli, sliced
A good handful of green beans and/or snow peas, sliced
90g soba noodles
Chopped coriander, and/or Vietnamese mint, and/or Thai basil
1. Place tofu, garlic clove, sliced spring onion, sesame seeds, mirin, soy sauce, tahini, rice wine vinegar, and chilli flakes in the bowl that you intend to eat from (less washing up). Mix. Place in fridge to chill until you are just about ready to eat.
2. Boil a pot of salted water. While it comes to the boil, rinse your greens thoroughly.
3. Cook your soba noodles in the boiling salted water for about 3 minutes, or until almost done.
4. When your noodles are almost cooked, add in your washed greens to the pot. Cook for a further minute.
5. Drain noodles and vegies in a colander. Rinse under cold running water.
6. Remove the garlic clove from the tofu/dressing mixture. Add the noodle/vegetable mixture to the tofu/dressing mixture, and stir to thoroughly coat – tongs are the best for this. Taste test and adjust with extra soy sauce, salt, pepper or chilli.
7. Sprinkle with chopped herbs, and eat on the couch.
PS: you could easily make this gluten free, by substituting a cake of rice vermicelli for the soba noodles. If that’s your thing, just cook the rice noodles as per the packet instructions and blanch your vegies separately.
Showing posts with label New Year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Year. Show all posts
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Monday, December 19, 2011
A Very Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year
Well, people, the 2011 blogging year is drawing to a close for me. Long story short, I’ve decided that due to work commitments this will be my last post for 2011 – but I will be back, all engines running, the first Monday in January to keep on sharing my thoughts and ramblings with y’all.
I suppose, then, that it’s appropriate to reflect on 2011 as a year. The more I speak to people, the more I realise that 2011 has been…well, if 2011 were a student, and I was talking to her parents at Parent Teacher Night, I’d probably say something along the lines of:
‘While I’ve really enjoyed having 2011 in my class, certain aspects of her behaviour have been…challenging. Problematic. Disruptive. Hurtful to me and the other students. Why can’t 2011 just leave me alone? I don’t understand!! I want my classroom back!!!!!!! I want my life back!!!!!!!!!’ (exits, sobbing, to the staffroom).
I’m not alone in feeling this way about 2011. Everyone I have been speaking to about this in the last few weeks has been looking forward to putting this year to bed and welcoming a new one. Change has seemed to be a pretty major element of what people in my life, and what I, have had happen in 2011. The kicker is, it’s not been easy or exciting change. Believe it or not, I normally like change. Shake it up, baby, turn and face the strain. What’s made this year’s changes that my crew and I have experienced non-easy and non-exciting is that they’ve been hard changes, changes that required leaps into the dark, naked without a parachute. Changes that, for some, involved painful choices to separate from significant others. Changes that involved for others giving up on some dreams. Or moving houses and lives, or just taking on a whole lot of hard hard hard work with the end in sight but a long way off. My year included all those things, and TWO bouts of the worst food poisoning I’ve ever had in my life, within a month of each other. If I’d have known what was ahead of me, gastro wise, in 2011, I would not have laughed so hard in the food poisoning scene in Briedsmaids. Just saying.
What I’ve learnt from 2011, other than sushi is always a seriously bad idea, is that people are made of pretty tough stuff. Because, in spite of 2011’s better attempts to break our spirits and run amok, we are all still here, still talking, still living, still believing in each other, and, most importantly, still hoping for a brighter 2012.
It’s in this spirit of hoping for a brighter 2012 that I’m sharing with you my wishlist for 2012. I stole this idea from Kitty Gilfeather, who, rather than making new years resolutions, writes a wishlist of what she hopes for in 2012. It takes away the threat of failure implied by resolutions, and instead replaces them with the warm, happy glow of anticipation. Here’s what I’m working with so far:
• Read more good books.
• Wear matching underwear at all times.
• Buy a fabulous thing for my apartment each season (I’m thinking my summer purchase might be a cowhide rug for le boudoir– thoughts?).
• Kick corporate wardrobe butt.
• Update my CV every 6 months to reflect awesomeness.
• Keep fresh flowers at my desk.
• Listen to albums in full, rather than skipping to singles.
And, most importantly, I feel:
• Drink mojitos, with lots and lots of ice, on my balcony, watching thunderstorms.
So bye for now, lovelies, and see you in 2012. Which, might I just say, already looks pretty swell.
I suppose, then, that it’s appropriate to reflect on 2011 as a year. The more I speak to people, the more I realise that 2011 has been…well, if 2011 were a student, and I was talking to her parents at Parent Teacher Night, I’d probably say something along the lines of:
‘While I’ve really enjoyed having 2011 in my class, certain aspects of her behaviour have been…challenging. Problematic. Disruptive. Hurtful to me and the other students. Why can’t 2011 just leave me alone? I don’t understand!! I want my classroom back!!!!!!! I want my life back!!!!!!!!!’ (exits, sobbing, to the staffroom).
I’m not alone in feeling this way about 2011. Everyone I have been speaking to about this in the last few weeks has been looking forward to putting this year to bed and welcoming a new one. Change has seemed to be a pretty major element of what people in my life, and what I, have had happen in 2011. The kicker is, it’s not been easy or exciting change. Believe it or not, I normally like change. Shake it up, baby, turn and face the strain. What’s made this year’s changes that my crew and I have experienced non-easy and non-exciting is that they’ve been hard changes, changes that required leaps into the dark, naked without a parachute. Changes that, for some, involved painful choices to separate from significant others. Changes that involved for others giving up on some dreams. Or moving houses and lives, or just taking on a whole lot of hard hard hard work with the end in sight but a long way off. My year included all those things, and TWO bouts of the worst food poisoning I’ve ever had in my life, within a month of each other. If I’d have known what was ahead of me, gastro wise, in 2011, I would not have laughed so hard in the food poisoning scene in Briedsmaids. Just saying.
What I’ve learnt from 2011, other than sushi is always a seriously bad idea, is that people are made of pretty tough stuff. Because, in spite of 2011’s better attempts to break our spirits and run amok, we are all still here, still talking, still living, still believing in each other, and, most importantly, still hoping for a brighter 2012.
It’s in this spirit of hoping for a brighter 2012 that I’m sharing with you my wishlist for 2012. I stole this idea from Kitty Gilfeather, who, rather than making new years resolutions, writes a wishlist of what she hopes for in 2012. It takes away the threat of failure implied by resolutions, and instead replaces them with the warm, happy glow of anticipation. Here’s what I’m working with so far:
• Read more good books.
• Wear matching underwear at all times.
• Buy a fabulous thing for my apartment each season (I’m thinking my summer purchase might be a cowhide rug for le boudoir– thoughts?).
• Kick corporate wardrobe butt.
• Update my CV every 6 months to reflect awesomeness.
• Keep fresh flowers at my desk.
• Listen to albums in full, rather than skipping to singles.
And, most importantly, I feel:
• Drink mojitos, with lots and lots of ice, on my balcony, watching thunderstorms.
So bye for now, lovelies, and see you in 2012. Which, might I just say, already looks pretty swell.
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