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Christmas Day
Dec. 30th, 2009 09:10 amMy day job is retail, and I was closing on Christmas Eve. It was, as such things go, a good day. We did insane amounts of business, and I got to talk to a lot of people about cookery.
I like my job. Not only does it give me a small sense of purpose, but the broader context; that of sharing information and knowledge with people, is a great satisfaction. We closed the shop, and in a sense of bonhomie which is part of why working here is so pleasant, made our way home. Les and I spent a pleasant evening; I put a candle in the window (which was still burning when we awoke, well after dawn.
I made a splendid failure of oatmeal. I think I added a bit too much water when rounding out the liquid to make a "rich man's porridge" (oats, cream, milk and water). The end result was a lot like a stirred custard with oats. I added some maple syrup (which Ther Cat brought from Wisconson last summer; to replace the syrup I left in Tennessee, which Marna brought when she came to visit because the syrup I bought when visiting the family last winter was in Pasadena).
Then we went to pick up Aaron, to see the Sendak exhibit at the Contemporary Jewish Museum. Marna called to read a story to Les; which Les had planned to be while we were driving, and we had pleasant chat on the bluetooth speakers in the car.
Off to the museum. It was great. The exhibit was well built (though it was jam-packed) and I learned a lot about Sendak's work. I knew he was more than just, Where the Wild Things Are and In the Night Kitchen, but the sheer breadth (and associated depth) of his talent is stunning.
The only downside was the fugghead who put a note in the visitor book at one of the other exhibits, "Merry Christmas", with a cross and, "The Highest Priest".
The ubridled gall of it (because you know a similar comment at some Christian Museum wouldn't be taken well) was gobsmacking. But that aside... Aaron bought me a wonderful cookbook, we pointed out things each of us saw in the art and (I think) came away from it richer than we went in.
Then we went looking for some dim sum. We were successful; with caveats. There was dim sum, but the choices were spare, if one didn't like mammal, or fowl. Luckily we all liked shrimp, so we had a variety of prawns (and some crab, and one order of a fried pork dumpling for Aaron and myself).
The wrappers were a bit sloppy, very soft. I don't know if it was a case of oversteaming, or style. I tend to style, as it was consistent. The cilantro shrimp were delicious.
Then we headed back to Aaron's, and I took the car, headed to a date with V. We were going to an ecstatic dance in Oakland with Leah. It was interesting. I am not much for house, or trance. I like dancing, but the emphasis on beat, and the lack of what feels like musical development in those styles leaves me a little detached. If I can get started I can, usually, manage to hang on, but if I can't get started; I fall out of the music, I'm something of a walllower.
The best moments of the night for me were some selections from the Nutcracker, and a technified Carol of the Bells. I'll give it another try; maybe on a Sunday afternoon, when the light will be better (there are large windows), and the space will seem larger.
It was a fairly quiet holiday, more reflective than celebratory; but given all the things in the past year; and the distance from the people with whom I have a sense of ritual and continuity, about what one might expect.
I like my job. Not only does it give me a small sense of purpose, but the broader context; that of sharing information and knowledge with people, is a great satisfaction. We closed the shop, and in a sense of bonhomie which is part of why working here is so pleasant, made our way home. Les and I spent a pleasant evening; I put a candle in the window (which was still burning when we awoke, well after dawn.
I made a splendid failure of oatmeal. I think I added a bit too much water when rounding out the liquid to make a "rich man's porridge" (oats, cream, milk and water). The end result was a lot like a stirred custard with oats. I added some maple syrup (which Ther Cat brought from Wisconson last summer; to replace the syrup I left in Tennessee, which Marna brought when she came to visit because the syrup I bought when visiting the family last winter was in Pasadena).
Then we went to pick up Aaron, to see the Sendak exhibit at the Contemporary Jewish Museum. Marna called to read a story to Les; which Les had planned to be while we were driving, and we had pleasant chat on the bluetooth speakers in the car.
Off to the museum. It was great. The exhibit was well built (though it was jam-packed) and I learned a lot about Sendak's work. I knew he was more than just, Where the Wild Things Are and In the Night Kitchen, but the sheer breadth (and associated depth) of his talent is stunning.
The only downside was the fugghead who put a note in the visitor book at one of the other exhibits, "Merry Christmas", with a cross and, "The Highest Priest".
The ubridled gall of it (because you know a similar comment at some Christian Museum wouldn't be taken well) was gobsmacking. But that aside... Aaron bought me a wonderful cookbook, we pointed out things each of us saw in the art and (I think) came away from it richer than we went in.
Then we went looking for some dim sum. We were successful; with caveats. There was dim sum, but the choices were spare, if one didn't like mammal, or fowl. Luckily we all liked shrimp, so we had a variety of prawns (and some crab, and one order of a fried pork dumpling for Aaron and myself).
The wrappers were a bit sloppy, very soft. I don't know if it was a case of oversteaming, or style. I tend to style, as it was consistent. The cilantro shrimp were delicious.
Then we headed back to Aaron's, and I took the car, headed to a date with V. We were going to an ecstatic dance in Oakland with Leah. It was interesting. I am not much for house, or trance. I like dancing, but the emphasis on beat, and the lack of what feels like musical development in those styles leaves me a little detached. If I can get started I can, usually, manage to hang on, but if I can't get started; I fall out of the music, I'm something of a walllower.
The best moments of the night for me were some selections from the Nutcracker, and a technified Carol of the Bells. I'll give it another try; maybe on a Sunday afternoon, when the light will be better (there are large windows), and the space will seem larger.
It was a fairly quiet holiday, more reflective than celebratory; but given all the things in the past year; and the distance from the people with whom I have a sense of ritual and continuity, about what one might expect.
