Heart of Hospitality.

I was in the middle of writing a different blog post for a few days now, but I came back to NYC and have been doing work in the room I share with my sister.  I saw the copy of Henri J. M. Nouwen's Reaching Out:  The Three Movements of Spiritual Life that I lent to her and when I cracked it open I was convicted again by the heart of what it means to practice hospitality.  I had to share it here with all of you, my random readers:

"When we have seen and acknowledged our own hostilities and fears without hesitation, it is more likely that we also will be able to sense from within the other pole toward which we want to lead not only ourselves but our neighbors as well.

...When we have become sensitive to the painful contours of our hostility we can start identifying the lines of its opposite toward which we are called to move:  hospitality.

...Hospitality, therefore, means primarily the creation of a free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy. Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place.  It is not to bring men and women over to our side, but to offer freedom not disturbed by dividing lines.  It is not to lead our neighbor into a corner where there are no alternatives left, but to open a wide spectrum of options for choice and commitment.  It is not an educated intimidation with good books, good stories and good works, but the liberation of fearful hearts so that words can find roots and bear ample fruit.  It is not a method of making our God and our way into the criteria of happiness, but the opening of an opportunity to others to find their God and their way.  The paradox of hospitality is that it wants to create emptiness, not a fearful emptiness, but a friendly emptiness where strangers can enter and discover themselves as created free; free to sing their own songs, speak their own languages, dance their own dances; free also to leave and follow their own vocations.  Hospitality is not a subtle invitation to adopt the life style of the host, but the gift of a chance for the guest to find his own."

BAM.  Hospitality in a nutshell.  And that's only the beginning.

So take note - especially those of you who serve as members of InterVarsity's Hospitality team under Sarah Min's leadership who stalk my blog (yes, I know you read this) - hospitality is so much more than serving food, throwing dinner parties, and organizing events.  It's a "fundamental attitude toward our fellow human being" (Nouwen 67).

Ceiling musings.

This past Sunday was a lovely morning - I appreciated and enjoyed the perspective Pastor Kyle took on Joseph's story in his sermon, and over lunch had the privilege of hearing the story of what God has been doing in Mun Joo's life.  She was someone new Sarah Min had met on the church bus that morning, and it was really nice talking with her.

I decided to have a very restful afternoon when I got home to our apartment.  It was quiet after Katy came back from church and went to sleep.  For the past week I was playing Christmas music almost nonstop, but for that afternoon I thought it would be nice to do some low-key things I really enjoy doing, such as reading or playing guitar.

I pulled out the fair-trade quilt I had asked my aunt for last Christmas and brought my laptop with my current reading, Banker to the Poor:  Micro-lending and the battle against world poverty by Muhammad Yunus, to our really comfortable sofa in the living room.

After feeling very productive and relaxed for reading a few chapters, I got very sleepy and did something I haven't done in a long time:  I decided to take a short nap.

Soon after I set my alarm and had fallen asleep on the couch, I woke up to some kind of scratching noise.  I opened my eyes and started sitting up to figure out where the noise was coming from because it sounded so close by.  I looked straight across the room at the front door because it sounded like someone was just outside the door, taping or posting some kind of paper on it.

I was curious as to who it was or what they were doing to our door, but the longer I listened, the less convinced I was that someone was there.  At that moment, I looked up and noticed that a huge chunk of the ceiling paint had started hanging down, with a rip that was slowly moving across the width of the ceiling.

I'm not sure if it was because I had just woken up from a nap or not, but I just stared at the rip, somehow trying to reassure my brain that that's exactly what was happening.  I think I was a little caught off guard but also didn't really know what to do.

It felt like I must've been in some kind of tv show or movie where the viewers are watching, yelling at the screen, "Why are you just sitting there?!  Get out of the way!  Do something!"  But I wasn't listening because I was in some kind of daze, somewhere in between the fact that I knew what was happening but couldn't really do anything to stop it so all I could do was watch.

Suddenly the rip finished tearing across the ceiling and a good chunk of the paint crumbled to the ground below, taking down a couple of plants with it and leaving a mess behind.

It was weird.  Here I was, staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever, fully aware that the paint was ripping and yet I was still shocked when it all came down.  You could hear my shock amidst the silence.  What a weird response.

It was a loud crash.  I half expected Katy to pop open her door and come see what all the commotion was about, but she didn't.  I sat there for a good few minutes, thinking about what I should do before I got up, examined the mess, and then went to wake Katy up to tell her what happened.

After Katy gave me our landlord's number and I left a message for our landlord, I carefully cleaned up the mess.

Later on that night after Sarah came home she opted not to watch a movie in the living room because there was still more that looked like it was ready to come down, and last night when Lauren Kirst and I decided to watch a movie there, Sarah suggested we open a couple of umbrellas and hold them over our heads while we watched, just in case something else fell down.  Her suggestion reminded me of a scene from Gilmore Girls and made me smile :]

Tonight is another tranquil evening.  I ventured back into the living room with my fair-trade quilt, Muhammad Yunus, and a hot cup of creamy, cinnamon and peppermint hot chocolate.  I lit some candles but opted to leave the Christmas music off - to fight the common fear of silence, conquer the fragility of stillness, and bask in the joy of God's presence and the soothing process of unpacking some of my thoughts.  I'm sitting in the same corner of the couch I sat in just a day ago, staring instead at a partial ceiling exposed to its bare plaster-y flesh in this cold, cold apartment.

The more I stare at the ceiling in this silence, the more it looks like a metaphor of life.

So far, there is one thought and feeling I've accumulated from this gentle evening: realizing how much you miss someone is common but recognizing that it stems from a desire to enjoy their company with you and not from a desire to avoid being lonely - well, it just warms my heart.

Unless that's just the hot chocolate speaking.

Latest food stories.

I posted a picture of these pumpkin scones on Facebook the day I first made them.  I wanted something different for breakfast and decided to make these scones.  I also made another batch for the E-board Nomination Committee as a "dessert" for our brunch.  They tasted delicious with the locally made strawberry cranberry preserves I got from Apple Hills Farm.  My mouth's watering just thinking about these beauties.  

Pumpkin scones

There wasn't a really exciting story to go with this curry.  I just had a craving for curry when I decided to make this chicken curry for me and Sarah for dinner.  It was my first time making it and I kind of cooked off-the-cuff from the recipe I looked up, so all the vegetables weren't as soft as how my mom makes it.  Ah, I miss my mom's curry...

Chicken curry

When it comes to pancakes in the McNamara house, I don't really make plain pancakes.  I'll try to find whatever's in the kitchen to make them.  With these pancakes, it was an occasion where Sarah had been working hard through the night to finish writing a paper - she was awake when I went to sleep and still awake when I woke up - so that morning I wanted to make her breakfast so she wouldn't have to worry about being hungry.  And I just wanted pancakes.

These weren't from scratch (sorry, Nathan), but I had to improvise a little because after I pulled out the Bisquick and found some coconut and chocolate chips, I discovered that we ran out of eggs.  Wa wa.  Thankfully, Google came to the rescue and I was able to put together an egg substitute out of water, baking powder and oil.  I'd make them again!

Coconut chocolate chip pancakes

This tuna casserole recipe is one my mom really likes to whip up on days where she doesn't feel like doing any intense cooking and wants to just make something easy but not Chinese-y.  The recipe calls for frozen peas, but a) I'm not a big fan of peas, let alone frozen peas, and b) I didn't have any.  So I chopped up some broccoli and zucchini and threw those in instead.  Best substitute for frozen peas, hands down.

Tuna casserole

I actually made this whole casserole for myself.  People have told me that they often don't like to cook when they're just by themselves or when it's just them and one other person because it's just sad/pathetic or too much food, but I love it.  I love leftovers.  Sorry, for those of you who aren't fans of leftovers.  I think they're great for lunch or dinner because then you don't have to cook again.

I had turned off most of the lamps and lit our indoor Christmas lights and some candles when Sarah came home and asked if she could have some of the food I just made.

"What's in it?" she asked after she started eating it.
"It's super easy to make!  You just need a can of cream of mushroom soup...and I put broccoli and zucchini instead of the frozen peas it called for.  And I used whole wheat egg noodles..."
"What?" she said, her eyes widening at the food she had been putting in her mouth.  "I didn't even notice a difference!"
I laughed.  "You like it now, don't you?  I told you whole wheat pasta could be yummy!"

Another cool part about this dish is that it tastes delicious cold.

It's back.

Have you seen those commercials or movies that show time freezing except for the main characters?  You know, the whole people-stop-moving, wave-your-hand-in-front-of-someone's-eyes-to-see-if-they-blink thing?  I wish that could happen to me.  I'm pretty much selfishly asking the world to stop for me.  But it's not so I could pull funny pranks or prevent bad things from happening, or even to change things to tip the scale in my favor.  I just wish the world would slow down so I can have more time to think and process.

Speaking of such, let's give a warm welcome to my introverted personality, which has come back in full force.  Not that I suddenly stopped being introverted, but there's definitely been a good chunk of time where my extroverted side was dominating so much that it felt like my introverted tendencies had taken a vacation.

Not only has my introverted personality returned, but it brought home the unwanted baggage of hyper-sensitivity and sluggish functionality.  Over the past several weeks, thinking and mulling over things has made me want to cry, and sharing things with others didn't really make a difference.  It feels like a lose-lose.  And then I get frustrated at myself and feel like such a stereotypical girl for crying so much.  I appreciate having one good big cry to let everything out - it's a freeing sensation and emptying in such a way that I feel like the space has been cleared to be filled again.  But crying really hard more than once within a short period of time?  That's just annoying.

I think the last time I cried so often and was on the verge of tears so frequently in such condensed spurts of time was probably my senior year of high school.  It's funny because a major difference between how I responded in high school and how I'm responding now is very different.  Back then I kept asking myself and asking God the question of 'why' - why this road, why me, why now.  But at this point in my life things haven't been a matter of knowing the reasons behind circumstances or the purpose of putting me through such grey areas.  I know and trust that God would be glorified, that He keeps His promises and that good will result in some shape or form that I may not ever recognize or understand.  I'm okay with that.

Instead I find that I keep asking myself and asking God the question, "Am I doing the right thing?" or, "Is this what I'm supposed to be doing?" and every time I ask it in my head, I immediately know I'm asking the wrong question.  It leaves the bitter taste of wanting answers with questions I know I can't ask lingering in my mouth.

Ugh.  There's just been so much going on in my head.  And it's frustrating because it makes it that much harder for me to stay present and work hard to be productive for things that have to get done right now.  It holds me back from moving forward.

If there's anything I've figured out so far, it's that this whole ordeal continues to fuel more of this hunger and thirst to know God and follow Him with my life.  And I know it'll be worth it all.

Live to be forgotten.

I don't remember why "live to be forgotten" popped into my head the other day.  But it reminded me of the interview I saw at Urbana 2009.  Good stuff.  I've been praying and meditating lately about what that really means and what it means to weigh the costs to tell a great story with my life for the sake and glory of the Lord.

I love that Urbana keeps the previous Urbana's videos up.  After watching this video again, this quote stuck out to me:  "God's work done in God's way will never lack God's supply."  It's not new to me - I've been trying to live that very truth out.

If you've got a couple of minutes, watch 5:18-7:37.
If you've got a mere 10 minutes to spare, I'd highly recommend giving this a listen.

Interview with Patrick Fung from Urbana on Vimeo.

Also found this and enjoyed watching this last night:

Landing gear.

Last night I came home and felt like my head was going to explode.  Hauling home a brain at midnight brimming with information and emotions after falling asleep around 4am the night before wasn't exactly a walk in the park.

But opening the door to a tranquil apartment with serene Christmas lights lit and a gentle Sarah Min wrapped in a blanket offering to make me tea makes the unwinding process so much easier.

As we were talking about life, she asked how I was doing because she had noticed that I've been more stressed out lately - or at least would react more strongly to things than she's ever seen me before.  I nodded because I've been consciously aware of it but hadn't really stopped to think about it because I don't feel overwhelmed or stressed out about anything.  Maybe very frustrated at times, but as I examined my internal realm, there's nothing new and nothing that seems to have shifted in any way.

I told Sarah how over the past four years God has been shaping my relationship with Him, my character and my leadership in such transformative, drastic ways such that my internal changes would permeate into my external changes.  As I said that I wondered if God was preparing me in a way to have a more solid internal realm so that when I encountered all of these changes in my external world, my internal world wouldn't immediately crumble at the first sign of trouble.

What I realized, though, in regards to my recent behavior, was that the plane was landing.  At least, that's how I explained it to Sarah.

Most of the time when you're in an airplane, you know you're headed somewhere and are able to prepare to land.  You're very aware that you're going to be hitting the ground soon, and so the captain tells everyone to sit down, buckle their seat belts, and put away anything that may disrupt the landing process.  You can look out the tiny window pane and actually watch as buildings drift closer and closer.

But even with all the preparation and cautionary steps; even when you've mentally, physically, and (I guess) emotionally prepared yourself for the landing and know you're going to be just fine, there's still something unnerving about the moment the wheels touch the ground.

So I think that's kind of where I am.  I'm not in an actual airplane, so the moment where the wheels touch the ground actually lasts a little longer than a few minutes in life.  But I'm not completely stressed or doubtful about where I am or where I'm going.  I may be just a little extra sensitive or slightly insecure about the decisions I made to take certain flights with unknown destinations.

Needtobreathe therapy.

I don't feel like baking will cut it this time.

There's plenty to clean, but it only adds to the frustration.

Not really in the mood to journal.

It's too late at night to pick up Theoden, whom I've missed a lot lately.

This calls for my good ol' buddies, Needtobreathe.

The only way to describe this entire week:

Oh, the craziness.

Today, like many days.

It's not my birthday.  It's not Christmas.  It's not the weekend.  I haven't been physically or emotionally hurt.  No one sent me any random cards, letters or packages in the mail.  No one gave me flowers.  No one treated me to a meal.  I'm pretty sure someone has prayed for me today even if they didn't tell me they did.  Even if no one did, it wouldn't matter.  I'm not fishing for compliments.  I don't feel lonely.  I don't feel overwhelmed.  I don't feel like I'm missing out on something in life.  I haven't had a deep, thought-provoking conversation.  I don't think I've necessarily grown closer to anyone or further away from those already close to me.  No one gave me extra spending money.  No one gave an anonymous large donation to my ministry.  No one has given me an encouraging word.  No one offered me a ride to places I need to go.  No one gave me advice.  I'm not sick.  I'm not depressed.  I'm not apathetic.  I care - about people, about strangers, about issues, about myself, about my responsibilities.  No one has poured out their heart to me.  No one has asked how I'm doing and genuinely cared about the answer.  No one has entrusted me with a secret.  I've ruined my own surprises for the week, but I'm not upset about it...anymore.  I spent more money than I would have liked this month.  I don't feel pressured by anyone.  I don't feel constrained or restricted or bound to someone else's expectations. It's beautiful outside, but even if it wasn't, it wouldn't matter.  I'm not having a good hair day, but it's not a bad hair day either.  No one switched around their schedule for me.  No one went out of their way to do something for me.  No one has gone out of their way to reach me.  No one told me they needed me.  No one asked for my help.  No one wrote on my Facebook wall, commented on my photos, or liked my Facebook status.  No one told me they read my blog.  No one texted me.  No one told me they thought of me when they heard this song or read this book or talked to this person.  I don't feel beautiful but I don't feel ugly.  I don't feel like a failure.  I've been working hard but I don't feel like I've been working hard enough.  I feel lazy.  I feel productive.  I feel accomplished and I feel like there's much more to get done.  I'm not looking for someone's approval.  I don't need a hug, but they are welcomed.  I'm not settling.  I am not satisfied with the way the world is.  I am serving my family and my friends as best as I humanly can.  I hope for the best and plan for the worst.  I have many questions without answers but I'm okay with never knowing them.  No one has showered me with compliments.  No one has recommended the perfect outfit for me.  No one has broken my heart.  No one has played with my heart.  No one left me post-its with nice notes written on it.  No one showed up on my doorstep unexpectedly.  I'm not looking for attention from strangers, from men, from my friends or my family.  I didn't have a spectacular bonding experience with anyone.  There's a pimple on my forehead that won't go away.  I'm not fond of rejection, but I'm not fearful of it.  I'm more open to fast changes in life than I would have been five years ago.  I believe in the little things and appreciate the big things.  I haven't worked on a song in so long or written a blog post in a few days.  I'm not famous and don't really strive to be.  I don't need fans or popularity.  I don't need people to follow me on Twitter or this blog.  I don't have a routine or a lot of structure right now, but my life does not depend on it.                                

No one told me how much they like me.            
No one told me they love me or "showed" me how much they love me.

But I don't need to hear it or see it everyday.
I know that who I am with others is aligned with who I am when I'm by myself.
I know I don't need to carry my burdens on my own shoulders and that I am surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses ready to share those burdens with me.

I know I am loved and that people care deeply about me.
And today, on a boring, ordinary, lovely Tuesday, I feel completely loved.

Just a couple of extra treats I made recently.

These are also some things I've made that I haven't posted yet.  

I believe these were take two of these kinds of pancakes.  They're actually whole wheat apple cinnamon fair-trade coffee-flavored chocolate chunk pancakes.  What a mouthful (haha)!  These were the pancakes I made from scratch for Michelle and Nathan when they came to Binghamton a few weeks ago.  

Apple cinnamon fair-trade coffee-flavored chocolate chunk pancakes

They were inspired from the pancakes I had made just a week before they came.  I was in the mood for pancakes one Saturday morning and decided to surprise Sarah and make some for breakfast when she woke up.  I didn't want just plain pancakes and wanted to experiment, so I threw in some apple chunks because I had so many when I had gone apple picking the weekend before. I figured cinnamon and nutmeg go really well with apples so I threw some of that in there, along with some coffee-flavored chocolate chunks  because chocolate chunks are just delicious and go great with apples and cinnamon in pancakes.

Banana bread with non-fat vanilla frozen yogurt

This banana bread I made pretty much right when I came back from Expedition because I realized we had three really ripe bananas that probably should've been eaten soon.  But I don't like eating really ripe bananas as they are (I like to eat them when they're perfectly yellow and have very little to no brown spots - I know, even though the brown spots tell you that the banana is ripe), so I figured I'd just throw together some banana bread because I needed exactly three really ripe bananas.  Yum!

I went out and bought non-fat vanilla frozen yogurt as well, because I was in the mood for ice cream but knew ice cream would be a less prudent choice for my high cholesterol and that the non-fat frozen yogurt would make that treat a little more guilt-free.  I was right!

A ratatouille double date.

I used to be that girl that thought double dates were gushy and cheesy.  It was probably because I had never been in a relationship before and was half envious that people could even have double dates (doubly rubbing in my face that I was not in one), with the other half of me over-imagining what double dates were like, giving them more weight than the reality needed to have.

When Nathan and I hang out with Will and Kat, it's nice because we were all friends before we started dating so getting together is more like having dinner with friends that just happen to be dating.  We're not dating couples that have to try to figure out how to be friends.  Nothing has to be formal or awkward.  It's pretty sweet.

Layers of vegetables for ratatouille!

This should technically be a really old post because this dinner happened a while ago.  I don't really remember what inspired this dinner - I think I might've just seen a recipe for it in passing for something else and remembered how I'd been wanting to test out a recipe ever since I watched the awesome kids' movie, Ratatouille.  I wasn't really into cooking back then, but I knew I wanted to try it out one day.

The finished product

Ratatouille is super easy to make - you chop up a bunch of vegetables and voila, ratatouille.  You can probably tell from my pictures that I didn't have enough cheese to lay across the top of the dish, but I think it still turned out okay.

Chocolate bowls epic fail

Nathan attempted to make chocolate bowls for dessert.  We got some balloons and dipped them in this chocolate ganache-like sauce that he made to put them in the freezer.  Except the chocolate didn't harden enough by the time we wanted dessert, and the chocolate just stuck to the balloons.  So we ended up throwing some vanilla ice cream and banana rum sauce onto the tray and scraping the chocolate right off of the balloons.

Yeah...I know.  I think I only had one and mostly scraped chocolate off of the tray.

Sweet potato fajita night in the McNamara house!

This dinner was also from a long time ago.  We had a bunch of sweet potatoes and I had been wanting to make these sweet potato fajita things for me and Sarah, and since we had recently gotten avocados, we whipped up some guacamole and put together a mini-fiesta for ourselves.

Oddly, I've been finding that I've beginning to experiment a little more when it comes to cooking.  If there's a specific dish I'm trying to make, I'll follow the recipe as closely as possible, but if I'm just trying to figure out something to eat with out having to look a recipe up, I'll just experiment with ingredients and spices and herbs.  It's odd because I wouldn't normally do that kind of thing.  I guess it just shows how far I've come in the world of possibilities.

P.S.  It would've been the perfect end to the night if we actually watched Ratatouille that night, but alas, we didn't have access to the movie.  I'm still in the mood to watch it if anyone has it/wants to watch it with me!

Welcome to the mind of an extrovert-wannabe?

I don't know if you've noticed, but I've changed a lot.  Maybe you haven't known me for that long (or maybe not at all...STALKER!  Yeah that's right, I'm calling you out) or maybe it's so subtle that you'd have to really think about it in order to see it, but I'm pretty sure my worldviews, mentalities, foundations, narratives, behaviors and attitudes have all significantly transformed in one way or another over the last few years.

Now, this isn't anything new, really.  It's not like I've all of a sudden come face-to-face with the reality that I've changed.  I talk all the time about how I've changed and things I've learned and how those things have fleshed out in my life as God continues to shape my character.

But what I'm talking about is a little different.  I guess?  I'm not really sure.  Maybe I'm reading too much into things, or maybe they're more natural ramifications than I could have anticipated.  Who really knows?

Here, let me try to paint a picture for you.  Here are some words, phrases and images to give you an idea how I view my old self to look like:

Responsibilities = work = stress = get job done and done well.  Get job done and done well = more responsibilities = more work = more stress.  Easily frustrated.  Quiet and demure character that takes time adjusting to any new environment.  Extremely indecisive.  Tired of taking the initiative.  Borderline goody-two-shoes.  Oblivious to the weight of how my facial expressions communicate certain messages.  Sheltered.  Perfectionist.  Stick to the black and white, avoid the gray areas.  Find out what's expected and meet or exceed those expectations - don't settle for anything less.  Wake up early to do my quiet times every single day, go to church every Sunday and go to fellowship every week because that's what really good Christians do.  The word, 'No' is not in my dictionary.  Must make everyone happy.  I am who people say I am.  Always give what sounds like the right answer.  Tell people the truth - only if they show me I can trust them.  Asking for help is a sign of weakness.  Independence is a sign of strength.  I can't depend on anyone, even my closest friends and family - God's the only one who can always be there for me.  Do the right thing to avoid guilt, shame and punishment.  Go beyond the right thing to make people proud of you.  Think outside the box.  If you see a need, meet it - who else will?  Details, details, details.  Plan, plan, plan.  Worry.  Fear. Paralyzed.  Play it safe.  Stick to what you know.  It's okay not to pursue passion because passion correlates with intense emotions.  And don't trust emotions because they lead to unnecessary drama, false expectations, and disappointment.

Here's an idea of how I see myself now and over the past couple of years:

Being flexible saves me from a lot of unnecessary stress.  Be honest with others about how I feel by speaking the truth in love - it takes practice.  Ongoing peace.  Abundance of joy.  What does real love look like?  Practice spiritual hospitality.  Live out the role-reversals of Jesus' kingdom (i.e. the first shall be last, become like little children, servant leaders).  Give grace - no one deserves it, but everyone's entitled to it.  Think about the future.  Plan for the future but don't clench the plans so tightly that they cut you if they shatter.  Sometimes playing it safe can be dangerous.  Evangelism, social justice, and prayer are not as scary as I think.  Evangelism, social justice, and prayer are all about relationships - if I care about relationships, I should care about evangelism, social justice, and prayer and vice versa.  God cares about relationships.  If God is really sovereign, what will it take to realize that I need to let go of something I was never in control of in the first place?  Don't be so hard on myself that I pummel pieces of my identity.  Sometimes it's important to wallow through the gray areas and sit in the tension of not quite right and not quite wrong.  Lead by example.  Take wise risks.  Failure is necessary for growth.  Vision and details work together like a brain and its nerves - I can't carry out a message without one and without the other I won't have a message to carry out.  Jesus' death and resurrection paved the way to freedom from sin, so why do us followers of Jesus often live as if sin still has a stronghold over us?  Driven by passion for God and His purposes, not driven by fear of rejection, people's reactions, or failure.  Healthy amount of responsibilities = healthy amount of work = more opportunities to build healthy relationships = less stress.  Less stress = happy more frequently = more joy when happiness is lacking.  

Honestly, I could probably dedicate whole blog posts to each of these identities.  These are just a few ways off the top of my head how I'd describe these identities.  Also, I must say that these are not polar opposites.  They are cross sections of my growth spectrum during my lifespan thus far, and so they are not dots on a line.  There are overlaps, thin sub-lines connecting some parts, and underlying narratives that lay the foundations and continue to be things I wrestle with.

In any case, what evoked this blog post in the first place was the fact that I had a potentially stressful week that I did not deal with as I normally would have in the past.

I particularly noticed it on the way back from Expedition.  Usually the drive home from an intense, people-focused conference that ended an intense, people-focused week would signal my internal processing system to turn on.  During the week or some part of my day my mind would send a warning signal, saying, "Hey, girl, information station is starting to overload.  You haven't had a lot of alone time to defrag your mind."  And then I'd tell it, "But I don't have time to defrag  right now - I'm still in the middle of dealing with people."  And then my mind would say, "Fine, but make sure you do something soon so that I don't explode and ooze with destructive emotions."  But for some reason my introverted-oriented mind stayed silent this week.  I didn't see the need to internally process.    

Carrie & I went to her parents' place for a home-cooked dinner before heading back to Binghamton.  Normally at that point my internal world would kick in at full steam ahead and I'd hesitate to put myself in a new environment with new people where I'd feel like I'd need to hold off from internally processing in order to be "on."  But I didn't feel that way at all.  It was nice - I didn't feel like I needed to be "on" but I didn't feel like I needed to internally implode.  Part of it was probably because Carrie's parents are really awesome and provide a good balance of hospitality that I appreciate, and part of it was probably because Carrie was there and she understands how I function.

But also during long drives home I sometimes want to just be silent so I could think.  Carrie asked me if I needed some time to do that, but I told her I didn't feel like I needed to.  So we just talked about the weekend.  It was nice.

I even took the next day off to rest, but I didn't feel like I needed to rest.  I thought a lot of my time alone would be spent thinking about Expedition and this whole past week, but instead I spent most of my time internally processing why I didn't feel like I needed to internally process.  Isn't that crazy?

So I know this blog post is super long and probably confusing and doesn't make any sense, and I congratulate you if you've read through this whole blob of a mess.  But this is what it looks like for me to force myself to internally process.

Which reminds me - I think one of the conclusions I've drawn so far for possible reasons of why I don't feel the need to internally process is that I've been practicing processing my thoughts externally while also being as transparent as I can with other people.  It's like my brain is a tank for holding information.  And usually when I receive information from my external world I collect more and more information and wait for opportunities when I'm alone or can be alone with my thoughts to sort through the piles of information and start putting pieces together.

I think what's been happening, though, is that as my brain collects information, I spend less time processing that information on my own and instead take more opportunities I have when I'm around so many people to share with them that information, causing me to externally process.  And because I've externally processed my thoughts and feelings more frequently, there's less information and less need to take time to internally process, and therefore a larger capacity to be extroverted and gain energy from being around other people.

Maybe as I continue to force myself to internally process (just to make sure I'm not overlooking/ignoring hidden feelings/thoughts that could come back to bite me later) I'll come up with some analogy or picture that would explain this a lot better.

Eggplant Parmesan, the vegetarian solution.

I invited a few friends over for dinner one night during Rosh Hashanah.  And as I usually try to do, I asked if anyone had any allergies, cravings, or special requests as I started putting together a menu.

Kit said she was a vegetarian, so at first I tried thinking about what separate vegetable dishes I could make.  But then I wondered if there were some easy vegetarian dishes that everyone could enjoy together.  I don't know how I came up with this, but I decided to try my hand at eggplant parm from scratch.

Sweating out the eggplants' moisture

Eggplants are funky vegetables to work with.  I've never cooked eggplant before, so it felt funny skinning and slicing the spongy but firm things.  In the recipe it didn't say to do this, but in people's reviews they suggested sprinkling salt over the eggplant pieces and letting the eggplant pieces sweat out some of their moisture before cooking them.

Who knew eggplant parm was so time intensive?  I didn't!

Oh my goodness, I didn't realize how much time it took to dip and bread every single piece of eggplant.  Just for that, I don't think I'll be making eggplant parmesan again in the near future.

I think this was my favorite part - layering the sauce, eggplant and cheese!

It was a fun adventure, though, putting that dinner together.  I also made a simple spinach and garlic side dish, along with this recipe I found for roasted sweet potatoes and caramelized onions.  I love simple recipes that make delicious food!

The sweet potatoes and caramelized onions were a hit!

I really liked how the eggplant parmesan turned out.  On the up side, I had extra eggplant pieces so it was really easy to save them for making another batch of eggplant parm another day.  Unfortunately, the first day's process of making it took hours to put together that I don't think I can sacrifice unless it was for a really special occasion.

I'd definitely make the spinach and sweet potatoes again.  They were simple and quick to make.  I thought the sweet potatoes were pretty unique, too.

And it was a great night of food, friends, and good conversations around the table that I hope will happen again in the future.

The spiritual reality of ultimate hospitality.

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called "the uncircumcision" by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands - remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.  

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.  For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility.  And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near.  For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father.  

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord.  In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

---Ephesians 2:11-22

I don't know if you've been following my growth in understanding this gift of hospitality I may have, but it's been a fun process so far.  Here are some things I've learned about it so far:

• Hospitality is so much more than entertaining guests or providing good food and serving your friends and family that come over to your house.
• Being a good host is not just about meeting physical needs but creating a space that helps the stranger/guest recognize that they have something valuable to offer the host.
• Practicing hospitality is invaluable to all those who claim that they follow Jesus.  
• Hospitality goes hand-in-hand with evangelism, bridging the gap between those outside and within the family of faith, guiding/influencing the strangers on the outside to welcome them into the house of God.
• Hospitality goes hand-in-hand with social justice, breaking down walls and restoring relationships between racial, economic and social borders.
• Good hosts can get lost in the preparations of serving others; better hosts find joy in listening and sitting at Jesus' feet.

One thing I also know is that this hospitality thing in my life won't be fully manifested until I push it further and  test it in how I serve strangers.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from his love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.  Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests but also to the interests of the others.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of  God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.  Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.

--Philippians 2:1-11

?-day blog project

Wouldn't it be cool if I wrote everyday for a chunk of days?

I was thinking of starting a blog project for a limited number of days to help me write more consistently (on a daily basis pretty much).  At first I was thinking a 30-day project, but I think that might be too much for a first project.  So it could be more of a 7-day project, 14-day project, or 5-day project.  It depends on what the idea is and what I think will be the most doable but challenging at the same time.

I have a few ideas in mind already, but if you've got something you'd like to see me write about, or a funky writing style you want me to try, post a comment or let me know.  I'm pretty much looking for a focus or theme that threads each blog post.  Some kind of general or specific but interesting "rule" that my writing would have an interesting take on.

I've already started experimenting a little with mixing up my blog posts by posting stuff I've baked and the stories behind them.  So, something like that.  But I don't want to do anything involving food for now.

The hospitality paradox.

If you take a look at some of my old notebooks, you may come across some lists of people's names.  Don't freak out if you ever see your name there on one of those lists.  I promise I'm not stalking you or anything.  Besides, if I met you during college, it's less likely that your name would be on one of those lists.

I love makings lists (I extravert J pretty strongly, so of course I would), but there's a good chance I made those lists for people I wanted to give something to for Christmas.

These lists were super long because they represented a spectrum of my social network - from my closest friends stretching down to acquaintances I've had very little interactions with. I'd list them all.  For my closest friends of course, I wanted to give something special that expressed how much I cared about them.  For the friends and acquaintances I didn't know as well, I wanted to embrace the art of surprise and give them something because I knew they wouldn't expect it.  Even though we weren't close, I wanted them to know I still cared and thought about them.

I'd be ambitious and write down the name of every single person I wanted to give something to.  Then I'd eventually realize that my budget didn't realistically fit a list that long, so I'd come up with a hierarchical budget based on how close I was to them.  And since I hated the thought of taking anyone off the list (as if I was somehow obligated to do something for whoever's name crossed my mind) I had to get creative about what I was going to give them.  I'd take what skills I knew I had and things I liked to do and put that into use.  One Christmas I spent hours reading short inspiring stories, printing out the ones I liked and rolled them  in wrapping paper and ribbon to look like little firecrackers and gave those to my acquaintances.  For another Christmas I bought gift bags and baked cookies to give away with a little personalized note.  Other times I'd make handmade Christmas cards.

I loved making things for people because I figured they'd appreciate someone taking the thought and time to make something specifically for them, even if it was small.  Don't you love those kinds of gifts?

Over time I've recognized the idealistic efforts as being impractical, but it's been an ongoing struggle with the concept behind it.  Essentially I want every person I encounter to know that they are worth my time and worth my efforts - they are valuable and important to me.  I want them to know that they are loved.  You don't need to spend any length of time or to do anything special for someone to really care about you - someone who loves who you are despite who you've been and cares about where you're going no matter how long or short you may be in their life.

At the same time, I'm often overwhelmed by how many people I want to reach, and it makes me recognize how finite and limited I am.  I've worked myself into the ground, trying to meet the needs of the masses and have learned (the hard way) that it's unhealthy and not possible to do so.  You can't be boundlessly available, you can't be friends with everyone, you can't please everyone, and you can't give everyone the personal attention the person wants or needs.

During my first few years of college I struggled with this because I didn't know how to care for all the people I loved back home when I wasn't physically around to be there for them while also care for all the new relationships I was developing on campus.  I felt like I was stuck and was being forced to choose between two very important worlds and hated how one or the other seemed to lose out.

As I've been learning more about hospitality and how it unfolds in my life, it seems as though there's a bit of that paradox as well.  With hospitality, you often find yourself wanting to meet the needs of the masses all at the same time - but how do you do that while giving personal attention or care to remind them that they are known, heard and loved?  As a host, how do you meet such a wide range of individual needs?  How do you meet so many physical and spiritual needs with such limited resources?

It's a paradox I keep coming back to over and over again as I meet new people, think of those currently in my life and often think of people I've known in the past.  But as a paradox, though it seems to contradict itself, there's an element of truth to it.

I think the truth is that while we are finite, God is infinite; while we are limited, God is unlimited; where we lack in resources, God provides in abundance.  It's the very thing I forget every time I return to this paradox.    Just look at how Jesus fed the five thousand.  And then did it again with four thousand!  At the same time, it seemed like those stories weren't focused as much on the crowd or the individuals within the crowd as much as they were focused on the disciples and how they were responding/interacting with Jesus.  Hm.  I guess it's something to look into.

In any case, there's no exact formula to know how to care for the many people your heart breaks for.  That was something I had to get over a long time ago.  But I've stopped making those kinds of lists on paper.  It doesn't mean I've given up on caring, it's just that the lists constantly change and are stored mentally rather than on paper.

And they're not focused so much on Christmas gifts.

Graham cracker frenzy.

Okay, do you see these cookies?  They were my first attempt at making a cookie called, "Everything but the kitchen sink."  They're called that because, well, you can put a whole lot of stuff in them and it doesn't really matter what it is.

The problem that occurred, though, is that I think I over-mixed the butter and sugar so that the cookies came out super flat.  And they were so flat that I had a terrible time trying to lift them off of the baking sheets - they just crumbled apart no matter how careful you tried to be.

They are the failed kitchen sink cookies.  They still tasted good, but they just...weren't cookies.  My family didn't like them.  Nathan begged to differ, though.  He loved them.   

Failure kitchen sink cookies - chocolate chips, walnuts, coconut, cinnamon

Anyway, I decided to try and redeem myself because I love the concept of these cookies.  I took another recipe (from joyofbaking - I'm telling you that website is absolutely wonderful) and tried it out, adding my own little random ingredient...graham crackers.  I added the graham crackers to the kitchen sink cookies because, well, I mind as well since they were being used already for the million other things I was baking.  And hooray, they turned out to be awesome!  Well, you were at least able to hold them in your hands without them falling apart.  I'd deem that a winner.

Winner kitchen sink cookies - chocolate chips, coconut, walnuts, toasted pecans & graham cracker chunks

So in reality, I was baking three things at once:  I was making a second batch of s'more granola bars (these were the batch I made for Libby), along with four and a half dozen kitchen sink cookies and the nanaimo bars, which are documented below.

Please don't ask me to pronounce these nanaimo bars.  I have enough trouble saying it myself.  They're Canadian, I believe.  I just saw them on the joyofbaking website while I was browsing around and their layers intrigued me, so I've been wanting to make them ever since I saw them.

They were added to my bucket list of things to bake (this doesn't really exist - it's just a mental list of things I'd want to try baking one day in my life), thinking I would make them some time in the future, especially since the custard layer required an odd ingredient like pudding or custard powder, of which I've never really worked with before.  But lo and behold, one day there was a brand new can of custard powder sitting on our kitchen table.

Nanaimo bars

My mom so happened to buy it (actually, I don't know what she really bought it for; I never asked) on some random day.  But I didn't put two and two together until a few days later when I was brainstorming what to bake next and saw those nanaimo bars.  As I glanced through the ingredients, I spotted the custard powder and realized I had recently seen a can of it in our kitchen.  I called my mom up to ask if I could use it, and she said, "Sure!"

I was able to make all three baked goods at the same time because after I'd make one layer of the nanaimo bars, I'd have to stick them in the fridge to chill and then scoop kitchen sink cookies onto baking sheets, and while I'd stick those in the oven, I'd prep all the ingredients that needed to go into the s'more granola bars and then pull out the fresh-baked cookies, make the next layer of the nanaimo bars while the cookies cooled, stick that back in the refrigerator, and then work on the next batch of cookies or work on the s'more granola bars.  

The kitchen was hopping, I must say.  It was quite a rhythm I had gotten into.

Well, the only thing that bothered me about making these bars was that when I poured the melted chocolate onto the custard layer, I think it melted the custard a little so that the bar ended up being not very sturdy.  

And, it's interesting because...I don't think I'd make them again.  I mean, they're easy to make and they taste okay-ish, but they're super sweet (which, I know, is usually awesome because I love sweets), and I feel like they wouldn't be a winner with the majority.  

Hahaha I was just thinking of an analogy and I'd hate to compare it to this, but they're kind of...like people.  They remind me of snobby, materialistic rich girls that wear too much make-up and heels the size of two pencils stacked on top of each other, that expect to be treated like spoiled princesses.  It's as if the nanaimo bars act like they're so special because they've got special ingredients and have specific instructions that no other baked good requires.  They're really high maintenance (you can't keep them out for too long because they'll get melty so you have to keep them in the fridge), they expect the world to drop at their feet when really, who's ever heard of a nanaimo bar?  And they're sweet, but they're too sweet, so they're sappy and not enjoyable to be around -- I mean...eat.

Wow, I'm giving my baked goods their own personalities.  I spend way too much alone time with my oven.

Quiz: how many rings does Tammy wear on her hands?

Answer:  Currently, one.  Before today?  Three.

I wore one on the ring finger of my left hand, as well as one on the pointer finger and ring finger of my right hand.  My ring fingers suddenly started giving me a rash.  Both of them.  

The one on my left hand was from Arizona - supposedly it was hand-made by a Navajo Native American friend in Arizona.  I've been wearing that ring for about 8 years now.  

The ring on my right hand was a gift from our President of the Seekers Christian Club in high school - I've been wearing that ring for about 5 years now.  This particular rash spread to my the back of my hand, too.

Do you notice the tan on the pointer finger?  That's my third ring.  I got that one from Arizona, too.  Notice how there's no rash around that area?  Yeah...don't ask me why because I have no clue.

It's a little freakish to me as to why both of my ring fingers have a rash while my pointer finger does not, after YEARS of wearing these things.

In any case, after a month of suffering with my itchy hands, I've decided to leave those two rings off my hands for a while until my fingers start to heal again.  It's getting to be a little too much scratching for me to handle.

Sorry if these pictures were gross to look at.  I wanted to show you how bad it was.

Snickerdoodles and S'more granola bars.

Snickerdoodles

These cookies can be such a great conversation starter:  why are they called snickerdoodles?  Where did that name come from?  Why are they so darn delicious?

I'm not sure if anyone actually knows the answers to those questions.  It's part of its mystique.  But they're pretty significant to me because when I made my first batch I believe they were the first kinds of sugar cookies I'd ever successfully created.  I usually stayed away from sugar cookies because I wasn't usually a fan of the crispiness.  I'm a soft-cookie fan myself.  And I just really liked chocolate and chunks in my cookies.

But I fell in love when I first made these because they were so simple to make and essentially had no mess.  And they if I baked them just right, they'd have a slightly crispy bite to the exterior of the cookie while having a super soft and chewy interior.  And everyone just loved the hint of cinnamon sugar with every bite.

This particular batch was a different recipe than the one I normally use - it uses baking powder instead of cream of tartar and baking soda, and I didn't necessarily have to refrigerate the dough for two hours if the dough was firm enough (which this time it was not because I let the butter sit out so it got a little softer than usual).  But I think they turned out just as good as the first time I made them.

I made these cookies to bring to a dinner that Nathan and I went to at the Gabourys' apartment.  The cookies didn't have the crisp bite that I wanted, but they were a hit nonetheless!  They're so much fun to make.

Graham cracker crumbs and homemade granola

Ah, s'more granola bars!  These were an accidental discovery while I was looking for the snickerdoodles recipe on the joyofbaking website.  They have video demonstrations on the side column and I saw this one and was intrigued.

Layering the ingredients

So the recipe calls for mini marshmallows, and the lady in the video demonstration said that you could use pieces of homemade marshmallows (who the heck makes homemade marshmallows?!).  I had mini marshmallows, but they were fruity flavored ones (they're really not as bad as they sound in my opinion, but I know many who would disagree) and there weren't enough, so I decided to open a new bag of big marshmallows and chop them into pieces.

Bad idea.

They're really annoying because when you chop them up they get all sticky - they stick to your fingers and don't come off, and they clump together instead of distributing evenly.  Really, really annoying.  Don't try this at home, kids.  You're only setting yourself up for trouble.  Stick to the mini marshmallows.

Delicious s'more granola bars

The recipe said the granola bars would come out crispy but if you keep them in an airtight container they'll get chewy after a few days.  But actually, it was really difficult to cut them after they cooled because they were still so soft (even after I put them back in the oven!), and I really wanted to cut them in a shape just like the Quakers chewy granola bars, but it just wasn't working out.  So I had to cut them into squares.  They bars do get chewy, too!

Oh my goodness, they things were very tasty and super easy to make.  Definitely a recipe to keep and repeat to share with others.  I think it's the maple syrup and cinnamon mixed into the oats that really make the granola-y part taste so good.  And they're super fun to eat!

In addition to all of that, the recipe uses less than a stick of butter, no eggs, and doesn't really require an electric mixer because there's not much to mix.  It's as easy as pie.  Except it's not pie.  And making pies isn't easy.  Haha :]

They were so easy and tasty to make that I made a fresh batch today and gave some to Libby because she wasn't having a great morning so I thought these would cheer her up after a long day.  Just an excuse to bake some more!

Simplicity.

It started with a simple question addressed to me:  How have things changed for you since graduating college?

The next thing I know, I'm suddenly pouring my heart out to a friend during this innocent gchat conversation about how I feel like New York City gives off a lot of misguiding perceptions and tries to live up to them.

It's like living in NYC has glazed over my eyes

and since going to college at Bing,

my eyes have been opened and my heart has been broken in ways that they haven't been before.

I told him about my senior year itch to leave New York City and go on a road trip for a period of time - enough time where I could travel around to different states, take on some odd jobs here and there, and really experience a completely different kind of life.  

I want to meet people and listen to their stories

and work alongside of them.

Adventurous, yes, but it sounds difficult and risky and completely silly to anyone living in NYC.  Why would you want go completely out of your way to find a job busing tables in some hole-in-the-wall when you've got your hole-in-the-wall joints and the rest of the world at your fingertips right here in the Big Apple?  We've got the concrete jungles where dreams are made of, don't we?  Everyone in the world wants to come to New York while you want to get out - doesn't that picture look funny to you at all?

Ah, but you see, I believe that people outside of NYC have a different kind of outlook of the world and live a different kind of lifestyle.  

I understand that NYC is a whole different world

where it's actually frightening

because people come to this place where everything seems grand and wonderful and spectacular and exciting

when really it's a cover for so much pain and suffering

and I understand that we all do that

we all put our guards up

but there's something about NYC

that it emits a hardness that feels like it doesn't happen quite the same way anywhere else

It actually seems more dangerous to be numb or ignorant or isolated from facing the hurt, the pain, the suffering of ourselves and our neighbors.  In fact, it probably plays a part in this vicious cycle where this ignorance incites more pain, which produces more numbness which bolsters more suffering, around and around again.  

It seems as though NYC needs Jesus all the more.

I feel like because I've grown up here

there's something I'm missing

or something that keeps me guarded

and there's something I need to experience outside of NYC

to break free from that

or that I don't really belong here

Thinking about NYC like this makes me wonder why God has led me to minister to college students outside of New York City.  My heart breaks for NYC in ways it hasn't ever before, but it doesn't break in such a way that I am driven to stay here and minister at this time.  Which doesn't make sense to me, but I'm praying and trusting that God would continue to reveal Himself to me.  At this time though, it seems paradoxically unproductive if I stayed here because it may perpetuate in me and those around me the very things I want to fight.  

I'm not quite sure where God's leading me with that

but I feel like it's been in the making for a while.

This isn't a new sense, a new feeling, a new call or completely new thoughts.  It's as if this piece of my heart  has been tucked away in an attic for my entire life.  Going to college was some major life spring cleaning, wiping away layers of dust that have accumulated over the years.  But it's not quite clear yet.  It's going to take a little elbow grease and a little time before it starts to shine with some clarity.

Even though I've grown up in NYC

I've felt like I've never fit in quite right.

There's a certain simplicity at the core of my being

that's been there since I was little

and it just seems so different from the extravagant life NYC and NYC dwellers try to portray.

It would explain from my molting blog post (sounds intriguing, no?) why I felt a sense of freedom to be more of myself when I was away from New York City and why I haven't quite felt "at home" anywhere for a while.

It would explain why I seem to be on the move in life - both physically and mentally - but who am I to try and figure these things out?

You know, when I think about all of this, I think, "What are you, crazy?  You've been living in NYC your whole life; think of all connections you have - with some hard work and some simple conversations, you have the world at your fingertips and can discover the most unbelievable opportunities with a blink of an eye.

Everything you know is here, and there's always something new to discover!  Pretty much all of your closest friends and family are here, your community is here, your network is here...How could you even consider giving any of that up for something less?"

I just don't think I need everything that NYC has to offer.  It all leads me to greater dissatisfaction and doesn't leave me deeply satisfied.  And being in this kind of environment leaves me susceptible to the trap of believing that it can.

And with my circle of friends and family and community - I love them, of course.  No doubt.  They're my comfort and everything familiar.  But sometimes  there are things you need to do that requires you to leave your comfort zone for the sake of following Christ.  I'm not trying to run away from problems or escape something dark and evil.  It's just something personal.  Sometimes we're called to live a life in a place and with people different than the ones we grew up with.

Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe there's essentially not that much of a difference from the lessons of NYC and the lessons from other places.  Maybe I'm not missing anything at all and I'm just looking for an adventure, a thrill.

I guess there's only one way to find out.  
   

Last of my summer food endeavors.

As summer has drawn to a close (not officially, but you know), my journey as someone practicing her survival skills of learning how to "fish" has not.

Grilling chicken on my mom's George Foreman grill

George Foreman grills always remind me of Ali, my apartment housemate from when I stayed in Binghamton for the summer of 2009.  She loves her George Foreman grill.  We'd make dinner together using that thing quite often.

My mom asked me to make this chicken - it was super easy.  Just mix in some ingredients for the sauce for the chicken to marinade in for a few hours, and then pop 'em on the grill for about 3 minutes each side.

I made some string beans and rice to go with it, and since I'm not a huge fan of eating or making a salad (for some reason I really dread the idea of putting together a salad, even though it's super easy and you can get really creative with them), my mom had some extra tomatoes and cucumber slices leftover that we used as an almost-caprese (there's supposed to be slices of mozzarella cheese instead of cucumbers) instead of a regular lettuce salad.

Love it - super simple, good flavors, super quick.  Too bad I don't actually own a George Foreman grill to make food with.
   

Chocolate caramel cookies for my favorite driving teacher

These cookies were definitely an endeavor - I had never made any cookies with a filling before, nor have I ever baked with caramel.  But I've been meaning to bake something for my awesome friend Michelle, who, besides being super wonderful and super talented in general, also allowed me to have her as the first person to ever teach me to drive.

It's a cool recipe - you mix walnuts into the batter and refrigerate it before covering a caramel candy into a ball of dough.  I actually made a mistake and found that I was supposed to buy chocolate covered caramel candies instead of plain old caramel candies, so I was worried it was going to mess things up.  Michelle loves caramel!  But alas, it was too late and so I figured I'd try it and see if they'd make any big difference.

The first batch of cookies ended up giving a sticky birth to the caramels out of the bottom of the cookies, so I cut the caramel pieces in half and tried to do a better job of covering the caramels and that seemed to work a little better for the last few batches.  I think they turned out pretty well!

Unfortunately I made these cookies the weekend big, fat, Hurricane Irene came through town, scaring the heck out of NYC and NJ.  I took a risk of baking during the brink of the storm, using the oven with the chance that the power could go out, but they survived, so I feel like I should actually call these babies hurricane cookies.

And since I was moving just after the storm hit, I didn't get to send these out to her until a few days after I'd made them.  Sorry they weren't as fresh as they could've been, Michelle!  

Irish soda bread for my 'last meal' at home

I love my mom's corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and soda bread dinners that we usually have every year on St. Patrick's Day.  She decided to make it this past weekend, though, thinking that since I wouldn't be around, we'd share our St. Patrick's meal together before I left.  She asked me, though, to make the soda bread.  And I told her it was my honor and pleasure :]

I actually made soda bread for the first time up at Binghamton last semester during my senior year.  It was made with whole wheat flour, though...so cool.  I didn't use whole wheat flour for this loaf, though.  So I think it's called soda bread because when you make the dough, you add baking soda to the flour mixture so that it reacts with the ingredients and bubbles before adding it to the rest of the ingredients.  So cool.

Also, while this was baking I was watching Gilmore Girls with Pam and about 30 minutes into the episode I jump out of her bed saying, "Oh no, oh no, oh no!  I forgot to scour the bread!" panicking to my mom, hoping the soda bread would turn out all right.  In a teasing tone my mom said, "Oh no, you forgot to let the Devil out!"

As you can see from the picture, the soda bread turned out all right.  My mom thinks I probably should have baked it a few minutes longer so it's a little firmer, but other than that, it was pretty delightful.  I would have included a picture of my full St. Patrick's Day last supper, but I didn't arrange the plate in a way that looked appealing at all, so I decided to leave it out.  Maybe next time I'll share a picture of my own St. Patrick's Day meal!

In case you couldn't tell, the experimenting won't stop here.  It's been a good summer and I'm looking forward to cooking more!