Salad Kick
All right, so the title is a bit misleading. I'm not on a salad kick per say, but rather, have not had any recent desire to eat anything too greasy. Rather, I stared at the aging vegetables in my refrigerator and wondered what I could do with them for a good long day, and came to the conclusion that for once in my sad life, I should make a salad. I had some napa and some gai lan (chinese broccoli) and some radishes - and who would have thunk it, but if one combines all of those ingredients by either slicing thinly or shaving, one finds themselves with the makings of an awesome salad a.k.a. sandwich ingredients.
I used a buttermilk ranch dressing, but I think anything creamy would work. Sear some chicken thighs that have been marinating in sesame oil, garlic and salt, and you got yourself a tasty chicken sandwich with creamy slaw. Now to be more specific about the salad (it's raw but do let me clarify), I hand-shaved the broccoli stems and napa (which occupies a great deal of time, but whatever, I was in a horrendously grumpy mood and it calmed me down), and then pou
red boiling water/cold water (in that order) over it all for a rinse/blanch. Sue me, I don't like germs. I then sliced the radishes over it. It makes for a pretty presentation. The picture is minus the dressing (which I store-purchased). Otherwise, I would have just mixed some mayonnaise with some garlic and sesame oil and lemon juice and pepper. Or bought regular ranch.
On other news, fennel is whack. I also thought I'd take the time to document a particularly horrifying dream, in which I apparently gave head to my lab supervisor so as to get on a paper, had him show up in my bed in my apartment greedily demanding sex, corner me in a bathroom, and then proceed to pee on my after I denied him. Yes, I was urinated on in my dream. To make matters worse, per the logic in my dream, I allowed the man to urinate on a completely-naked-me in order that he keep me on the paper. The dream was ridiculously surreal, and seriously makes me question what the hell I am going to do with my life. I'm resentful regarding the future for a lot of reasons, none of them particularly valid because I stand by the concept that I had full faculty and made my own decisions in the end. Nonetheless, the emotions are there, and while I consider myself to have matured in the sense that I can now acknowledge the existence of emotions (rather than spending my time attempting to annihilate them all), I have not quite figured out what to do with them quite yet. Hence why I spend hours shaving vegetables.
Another new word. Vituperative. And my nails are sex red. No, no. I'm not crazy. Not at all.
I used a buttermilk ranch dressing, but I think anything creamy would work. Sear some chicken thighs that have been marinating in sesame oil, garlic and salt, and you got yourself a tasty chicken sandwich with creamy slaw. Now to be more specific about the salad (it's raw but do let me clarify), I hand-shaved the broccoli stems and napa (which occupies a great deal of time, but whatever, I was in a horrendously grumpy mood and it calmed me down), and then pou
red boiling water/cold water (in that order) over it all for a rinse/blanch. Sue me, I don't like germs. I then sliced the radishes over it. It makes for a pretty presentation. The picture is minus the dressing (which I store-purchased). Otherwise, I would have just mixed some mayonnaise with some garlic and sesame oil and lemon juice and pepper. Or bought regular ranch.
On other news, fennel is whack. I also thought I'd take the time to document a particularly horrifying dream, in which I apparently gave head to my lab supervisor so as to get on a paper, had him show up in my bed in my apartment greedily demanding sex, corner me in a bathroom, and then proceed to pee on my after I denied him. Yes, I was urinated on in my dream. To make matters worse, per the logic in my dream, I allowed the man to urinate on a completely-naked-me in order that he keep me on the paper. The dream was ridiculously surreal, and seriously makes me question what the hell I am going to do with my life. I'm resentful regarding the future for a lot of reasons, none of them particularly valid because I stand by the concept that I had full faculty and made my own decisions in the end. Nonetheless, the emotions are there, and while I consider myself to have matured in the sense that I can now acknowledge the existence of emotions (rather than spending my time attempting to annihilate them all), I have not quite figured out what to do with them quite yet. Hence why I spend hours shaving vegetables.
Another new word. Vituperative. And my nails are sex red. No, no. I'm not crazy. Not at all.
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