Untitled Weekends

Wow, I almost let the lack of an inspiration for a blog post title stop me from writing a new blog post. But then, I decided, "To hell with being methodical! I can do whatever I want! Who cares if it doesn't make sense?" So now you see this. Or you could just pretend that I put a lot of time and thought into the title and assume that the adjective "Untitled" to describe this "weekend" is symbolic of the indescribable, ephemeral quality that characterized my Saturday and Sunday. Yeah, I just made that up, but it sounds like a plausible explanation, no?

Actually, it makes sense. Weekends are always one thing for sure, and that's ephemeral--at least to me. When is the last time I was stricken with ennui? Never, I say. As proof, here are all the things I accomplished--or experienced--within a 48-hour timespan:

Vegetarian tofu curry, made Indian-style, to eat with
flatbreads for a Satuday breakfast!

100% rye flatbread...made flat on a cast iron pan because
I didn't realize you can't make baguettes from 100% rye
unless you plan on hurling it at the next little
 bugger you meet.

My mom and I made "Molasses-Rye Snaps" with changes such as several
extra teaspoons of ground ginger, using the Buddha's Hand syrup instead
of sugar, and olive oil in place of butter. They were evocative
 of the warm-hearth-feeling of the winter season. 

A Buddha's Hand's amputated fingers stuck into a
 jar of sugar + a couple of hours = a liquefied sweet, citrus-y syrup that lasts
for months. 

Only recently have I began to accept myself in my entirety, learning to be content with my physical appearance, less-than-perfect capabilities (that goes for athletic, academic, and talent), and eccentric personality. I find that, if I continue to think positively and discount the small things that I'd usually be hung up  over for days, my advantages do present itself in seemingly insignificant moments. 

Well, that doesn't sound like it makes sense, but here an example. I'm glad for my short stature. Although I am not usually a towering or physically imposing presence, I can shine in other ways or, counter-intuitively, even stand out because of my below-average height. Best of all, I believe that my height helps me to notice things of which most people would not even give a second glance. Not only do I credit my genes for lessening my chances of a fall (lower center of gravity, of course), but I also think it gives me a different vantage point both physically and mentally.

These flowers were picked up along my weekly run--from between
sidewalk cracks, in the midst of lawn grass, just peeking through
the soil, and wherever else you'd find tiny, precious gems hiding.

Measuring only a couple of millimeters across,
 the flowers make a colorful composition,
 a true miniature bouquet! For some reason, smaller flowers
stand out more to me, or maybe I'm just biased...

A sort of minimalist ratatouille made from only acorn squash and sweet
potatoes baked for about half of an hour. A truly deliciously simple dish
 that I plan on recreating in a slow cooker in college.

Yellow roses harvested from the backyard being soaked
 in a solution of glycerin and water in a 1:2 ratio as
per the instructions. (I'm trying to preserve flowers!)

Maybe I'll even be able to see this exact flower
 in the next year?

My dad's attempt at recreating the Szechuan cuisine we
 enjoyed in Chinatown just a couple of weeks ago.

It doesn't look entirely appetizing, but at least I can say that
it tasted far better than it looked. (Lawl @ my mom
surreptitiously spooning out the oil whenever my dad
wasn't looking.)

Sometimes, it's just taking that first step that's difficult. I've been trying to sneak running back into my daily regime for quite a while now. After I did so this weekend, I realized that I've been extremely lazy during the past few months. Too lazy to change into exercise clothing and justifying it by putting a piece of homework in front of me while I'm in front of the computer, which is never a productive idea. On some days Most of the times, we're just tired, and nothing is more enticing than grabbing a snack and settling into a comfy, cushioned chair. On those days, I just recommend to anyone to watch this. Take that first step into making that lifestyle change, working towards that goal, or even doing a school project. I find that opening up a blank word document and typing in a header is a significant accomplishment. I find that starting is always the hardest.

I went running, not once, but twice. I am so proud of myself.

3 out of the 4 sourdough ciabattas I made today
 huddle together and close in on the camera.

I DID IT. I made bread. Real artisan-style bread. the ones with a soft, open, moist, and chewy crumb, unlike the bricks that I've been putting together for the past couple of years. I was never as proud as I was today, after making these babies--not even when I got accepted to college. I apologize to all the guinea pigs victims who were subject to the torture of having to consume of my previous bread teeth-gnashers.

From top and clockwise: regular ciabatta (eldest), heavily oiled and
seasoned (with oregano, basil, and sesame seeds) ciabatta (2nd youngest),
and lightly seasoned with the same ingredients (2nd eldest). Unpictured:
 deformed plain ciabatta (youngest). 

Dad consumes the deformed (still yummy), crispy ciabatta,
 while my mom anxiously waits for me to finish showering so
we can "test" the other ones...

Hallelujah! AN OPEN CRUMB!
The holy grail of my sourdough bread-baking adventure!

Not only is the crumb full of large holes, but it's also chewy and moist.
All without oil?! I hope it stays that way.

Open crumb, open crumb, open crumb...

Look how ridiculously large some of them are! The only misgiving: the wax paper that adhered to the bottom, resulting in my mom and me cutting off the bottom of every loaf--oops.

Last picture, I promise. At least, for now...

And that's not all I did. I did homework, planned out prom stuff, and, most importantly, started on my last art piece, a large-scale model that is probably going to be a triptych...don't ask me what I plan. My nature runs on spontaneity and impulse, making those "what are you doing?" (especially regarding long-term goals) questions a very strong pet peeve...