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25.08.09
Finally, we have adequate kitchen facilities at work. Previously, there was one ill-lit basement lunchroom for a building full of people. Not surprisingly, microwaves sprung up in hallways and workspaces, and people ate furtively. Now there are multiple setups with full-size fridges, sinks, and microwaves, and places to eat. Of course, the kitchens were made prohibitively narrow, cut off from daylight, and you have to walk through them to get to the photocopier, but that's another story.
Nonetheless, the other building inhabitants have been responding well, bringing in extra dishware to stock the cupboards and hand towels, so we consume less paper products. Each sink has it's own little cache of hand soap and dish soap. We're also composting, since the University already has a system in place. We have little pails we use for organic waste, which are great, except that they attract flies. Little flies, fruit flies specifically, but there was that one time thier population numbers got out of hand. Someone put a little carnivorous plant, a sundew, on top of the pail to eat the flies, but it wasn't particularly successful. We've gotten better in our pail placement and maintenance since and the problem has largely subsided.
I keep a small stash of dishes at work, and usually wash at least a set of utensils a day. It was during this procedure that I noticed something odd about the bottle of dish soap. There were several dozen dead flies floating in it. I suppose it smells sweet, and the flies crawl in the squeeze top and are unable to find their way back out, or they get coated in the soap and drown. The end result is still that you're washing your spoon in dead fly soap.
I switched to the pump-top hand soap and an extra-hot water rinse.
20.08.09
I went to my third Chinese banquet of the year. I'm not complaining, those things are great, but at this point they're getting a bit... repetitive. For those of you who may not be familiar with the form, it's generally a whackload of courses, starting with a cold meat platter (pork in some, or several, permutations, jellyfish in sesame oil, maybe some smoked salmon, possibly beef), soup, a succession of seafood dishes, some kind of vegetable, a chicken dish, fish, noodles, rice, the sweet red bean thing for dessert, pastries, and likely cake to fit the celebration.
Which is all fine, and to some extent the older generations probably expect something along those lines. But now we're getting to an age where some of those banquets are for us (weddings, most likely, we're too old for bar mitzvahs), or where we're involved in planning them. Now is a time for change, and I think we can address a few issues:
Shark's fin soup: I mean really. The ecological damage is apalling. We've all heard the horror stories of sharks having their fins cut off then being dumped back in the ocean alive. For me, that trumps clubbing seals over the head any day, but since no one wants to cuddle a shark (or fewer people), there's less uproar. Banning trade in shark's fins would be appropriate, but likely it would drive the trade underground and increase the status of having the real thing. I say we change the culture from the inside, the demand stops here. Want me to be impressed by your menu? Act responsibly. If I'm ever in charge of one of these things, I'm sending out vegetable soup and information cards telling guests how no animals died slow, wasteful, meaningless, agonizing deaths for them. Besides, shark's fin; doesn't really taste like anything, has no apparent nutrional value, and due to trophic magnification, the levels of mercury can cause sterility in men (not that anyone's chowing down on that much shark fin). I'm sure an agar-based product could easily fill in (they already have mung beans, but I think it could benefit from more firmness). We're fighting a few hundred years of cultural tradition, and the entrenched value systems of immediately previous generations, and if there's to be a major impact, we have to reach the emerging middle class within China (where environmental responsibility is so high on the radar), but still! If I have to walk through a Chinese restaurant in a bloody, finless shark outfit, I'll do it (with backup, and a video camera, and at something like my sister's (theoretical and overdue) wedding banquet, where I can get away with it)(if I can't talk them out of ordering Shark's fin in the first place)(that was a lot of qualifiers). (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shark_finning)
In less serious matters: lobster should be eaten at home, with a bib, and no recording devices in the room. When wearing nice clothes at a table with people you've just met, as videos and stills are being shot, there's a degree of gluttony that you don't particularly want to exceed. Also, what devious chef thought that it would be better if you took the normally difficult task of de-shelling a lobster and made it more difficult by deep frying the whole thing to glue the meat in, then lubricating the lot in a cream sauce? Are the lives of lobsters less valuable than the lives of sharks? Well, yes, frankly, given the state of the industry, the population numbers, and their respective ecological roles on a per individual basis. Plus at least you eat a significant portion of the body. And they're delicious.
And can we mix it up a bit? At the banquet before last, they did that thing where they put out all the condiments for the entire meal out on the table in the beginning. We could pretty much predict exactly what was showing up based off of these. (It also led to non-Chinese people unknowingly using the wrong condiments for their food, and the uncomfortable situation of "Do I correct them?".) A little innovation keeps thing interesting for all involved. Retain the symbolic value, sure, just re-contexutalize. Why not have a dish that is actually vegetarian, instead of trying to put meat into everything? Why do the exact same chicken that everywhere else does? Why bury guests in food? Will somene come up with a Chinese restaurant that still pleases the traditionalists (and can still seat tables of 12) but that isn't afraid to try new things, using products that are local or otherwise sustainable? These are new hallmarks of status; not that you are rich enough to buy the world, but that you are responsible enough to look after it.
16.08.09
Photos! Click the links to go to the web album.
05.08.09
We went for Indian food over the weekend. It was good, though I'd had a few drinks by that point and was in need of a nap more than nourishment. My coordination may also have been affected, as I lost a curry-infused chickpea off my naan and it bounced off my leg on the way to the floor. The result was a bright yellow stain on linen trousers on the inside of my thigh. Bright yellow stains on pants are never a good thing. I tried washing them the next day, with regular laundry soap, then with this ancient tube of a scary cleansing agent covered in WHMIS symbols, without much success.
I then turned to the collective wisdom of the internet, combing Indian food message boards for advice on removing tumeric stains (it seems to happen with a decent degree of frequency). Armed with newfound knowledge I applied baking soda to the stain (it went darker), rinsed it out, then let it dry in the sun. Then I couldn't leave it alone. Nothing seemed to be happening. I readjusted for maximum sun exposure, and then I went and did something else. Coming back a while later, the material was dry and the stain faded to the point where I had to seriously look before I could find where it used to be. Hurrah.
A day or so later I ironed that wrinkle-prone sucker, pleased with how the discolouration was barely detectable. I then flipped them over to do the back and found two more bright yellow spots where the chickpea had bounced across the back of my ankle. I didn't have the energy to repeat the process, so I finished ironing and put the trousers away. Maybe I'll just dip that leg in water and wear the pants out on the next sunny day.
It's weird when you find your name in fiction. This doesn't happen to me often, but I'm reading Ursula K. Le Guin's short story "Paradises Lost" and she has the Tan family being a series of taciturn control freak librarians. Sounds about right.
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