California

California dreams. I lived in California for four and a half years and I decided this winter that it was time to return and visit my friends. I landed at midnight at LAX and stumbled out of the airport to find my friends in their car waiting for me. I think squelling was involved when we first saw one another. As we drove from LAX to their city in Orange County, I kept thinking how crazy it was that I had lived there. The overwhelming amount of smog, cement, and traffic greeted me as we sped down the freeway. There are parts of Southern California that are beautiful and there are parts that are not. The only beautiful part is the diversity, the friends, the families, that inhabit the cement city.

The next day I woke up, packed up some things, and drove to a park to have a mini college reunion. It was so good to see everyone! Catch up on life and hear about what they are doing right now. Here is a picture of my first roommate, her husband, and baby. It was so good to spend time with them!

I also had the opportunity to go to a benefit banquet for an organization my friend Meg works at. It was fun to see and hear the work that they are doing and how her passion fits within their framework. Meg has a gift to work with kids and right now she works in a hard neighborhood, with tough kids, and yet still creates an environment for them to just be kids. In addition to the banquet, I had a chance to see her in action and do her thang during her program. Below is a picture of a few friends dressed up for the banquet.

And, of course, it seems like when I come into town I force my old roommates to get together and hang out. Unfortunately, not all of them were available this weekend- but it was good to get some of them together! I am so blessed by their friendships.

Finally, what would a trip to Southern California be without some great Asian food? Noodles, Currey, Boba, oh my! I love the diversity of food options in California. Below is boba from Half and Half. The new Asian- go-to Boba place in SoCal. Their boba is honey flavored and it was delicious. It was also the size of a pint of ice cream.

This trip to California was wonderful. I slipped back to my friend's lives very easily- to the point where I was shocked at how easy it was. While these are not all the people I saw, or things I did while in California- it gives you a taste for why I visit California. Its not for the beaches, or Disneyland, or movie starts (although I sat next to Julia Roberts on my flight out). I visit California for my friends, for the community they have, and the joy visiting brings.

Pollo in Potacchio

So I wrote up a few blog entries about various recipes I have tried in the last few months but never posted them. I'll be honest. It is Monday night and I have had no blog inspiration from the last few days. So I guess the default is to use an already written, unpublished, entry on a recipe. This one is good. I've made it a few times and will do so again when I have a kitchen back. It is easy, tasty, and healthy. And for those who are into the gluten free trend (or those who are really a celiac) it does not contain gluten.

Pollo in Potacchio (GF)

I've made Pollo in Potacchio twice in the last few months. It is a bit labor intensive than my normal but totally worth it. Anyone who cooks outside of the US, this would be considered an "easy" meal. When I lived in East Africa, I would easily spend two hours in the kitchen making dinner from scratch- I mean, really scratch. We don't cook from scratch in the US anymore. Okay, so the dinner. It is more like Chicken Stew than anything else. And I LOVE IT.

Pollo in Potacchio
Written by SkinnyTastes.com with my modifications.

Ingredients:
10 skinless chicken thighs (with bone) [note: I used chicken breast, cut it into small bite-sized pieces)
kosher salt and fresh black pepper
3 - 4 small sprigs fresh rosemary (the more the better!)
1 tbsp + 1 tsp olive oil
1 large yellow onion, finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
pinch red pepper flakes (optional)
2 cups Imported crushed tomatoes (Tuttoroso) [note: I didn't have crushed tomatoes on hand this time, and just used tomato sauce and it tasted just as good!]
1/4 tsp dried marjoram
1/4 cup dry white wine (Pinot Grigio)[note: I used cooking wine]
2 cups low sodium, fat free chicken broth


Directions:

1.Lightly season the chicken with salt and fresh pepper. If you are using chicken breast then cut into small pieces. Place a Dutch Oven or large heavy pot on medium-high heat. Add 1 tbsp oil, when hot add the chicken and sear until browned on all sides. I like using tongs to move them around for each side to get done. Transfer chicken to a dish and set aside.

2.Sauté garlic and onions (and red pepper flakes if using) in remaining oil; sauté until golden, stirring occasionally. Add celery and carrots and saute on medium-low, until soft. Add the wine and chicken broth, scraping any caramelized bits from the bottom.

3.Add tomatoes, marjoram, reduce heat to low, adjust salt and pepper to taste and simmer for 30 minutes.

4.Add the chicken and rosemary to the sauce, partially cover and cook slowly on low heat for another 25 - 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, adding water if needed.


Nutrition: Serves: 5 - 10 • Serving Size: 1 thigh with sauce
Calories: 123 • Fat: 4.6 g • Protein: 14.3 g • Carb: 4.1 g • Fiber: 0.7 g • Sugar: 0.5 g
Sodium: 186.4

Comments: I adjusted this recipe a bit but overall I really liked it. The first time I made it, I felt like there was too much sauce and this last time I made it I felt like there was no enough. Next time around, I will probably use 1 1/2 cups broth. I paired it with roasted broccoli, which the fam. equally loved.

Source:www.skinnytaste.com/

Bon Appetite!

Oven-Barbecued Asian Chicken

I love trying new recipes! For me, there is a challenge to find new recipes that incorporate healthy food in a new way. Over-Barbecued Asian Chicken was a recipe I had wanted to try for a while. It looked so yummy! My brother was in town a few weeks ago and he wanted to cook, so we went for it. My over all assessment was that it was not amazing, but still good. It does, however, satisfy your craving for Chinese food in a healthy way! Another alternative is to use the sauce in a stir fry, which I think might even be better! So here it is:

Oven-Barbecued Asian Chicken (GF)

Ingredients:
• 1 bunch scallions
• 1/4 cup hoisin sauce
• 1 tablespoon reduced-sodium soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 teaspoon Asian hot sauce, such as Sriracha, or to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon Chinese five-spice powder (found it at Target!)
• 4 bone-in chicken thighs (1 1/4-1 1/2 pounds total), skin removed, trimmed
• 4 chicken drumsticks (1-1 1/4 pounds total), skin removed, trimmed
• 1 1/2 teaspoons toasted sesame seeds

Notes: I used a double package of boneless, skinless chicken breast and doubled the sauce in order to cover the chicken well. Since I used chicken breast, the cooking time took about 30 minutes.

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Coat a 9-by-13-inch (or similar-size) baking dish with tin foil and greece with butter.
2. Thinly slice 1/4 cup scallion greens; set aside. Mince the whites. Whisk the scallion whites, hoisin sauce, soy sauce, ginger, garlic, hot sauce and five-spice powder in a large bowl. Add chicken and toss to coat. Arrange the chicken in an even layer in the prepared baking dish, meatier-side down. Pour any remaining sauce from the bowl over the chicken.
3. Bake, turning once halfway so the meatier side is up, until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part without touching bone registers 165°F, about 1 hour. Transfer the chicken to a serving platter and top with any remaining sauce from the baking dish. Sprinkle with sesame seeds and the reserved scallion greens (Note: My chicken only took 30 minutes to cook).

Nutrition:
Per serving: 361 calories; 16 g fat ( 4 g sat , 6 g mono ); 144 mg cholesterol; 11 g carbohydrates; 4 gadded sugars; 42 g protein; 1 g fiber; 547 mg sodium; 473 mg potassium.

Comments:
I didn't include the hot sauce or soy sauce so that probably changed the taste a bit. I think this is a recipe I will use once and a while, but not on a weekly basis.

Source: Eating Well, November/December 2011 Issue, Photo from Eatingwell.com

Happy

Happy. Can you be happy and yet stressed out? Maybe it is contentment? I am happy. I am happy where I am at. I am happy sitting in the coffee shop where I got my first job in high school. I am happy that while I sit here, my friends are working the bar, and people I have known my entire life stroll through the door to get a good afternoon cup o' joe. Happy.

Happy. Maybe it is because I feel like I belong. This is my place. My people. My culture. My coffee shop. This is where I have cried, worked, learned, sang, and contemplated life. This is, without a doubt, the hub of my community. Happy.

I am happily looking for a job. I am happily unemployed. I am happily drinking a cup of coffee. I am happily watching the high school girls wear sweatpants in style. (yes, MN teenage girls can pull that off). Happy.

Happy that I am here. Happy that I was born in this place. Happy that it is where I feel at home. Happy.

Normal.

I've been told by my only loyal reader on this blog that I need to write a blog post. I'll be honest, I think I am a terrible blogger. Blogging takes time and dedication. I have the time, but apparently not the dedication. I think desire gets thrown into the mix too... and creativity. I often think, who the heck would want to read about my life? Apparently my best friend does. Which is funny, because she knows more about what is going on in my life right now than pretty much anyone else.

Perhaps her timing could not be more perfect. It has been one year since I left Uganda and this week I have been thinking about it quite a bit. I think I have hit all re-entry, culture shock, and craziness of leaving one country and entering another that happens. I have written a master's thesis, traveled to Boston a few times, and managed to graduate. I flew to Sri Lanka to be able to watch a good friend get married and felt like I was the queen of the world by staying in some posh places. In the process of returning to the states, I got stuck in Qatar and feared for my life, cried like a fool, and was in complete awe of the amount of sand that the country held. Maybe I should have been in more awe of their oil. So technically I can check off the Middle East and Arabian Peninsula off of my- travel-to-one-day list. I also really regret not buying the dates in the duty-free store in the Doha airport.

I returned to Minnesota and life got predictably normal. Because lets face it, normal people don't travel and move and change addresses as much as I have in the last five years. I'm figuring out normal and it is growing on me. Normal means making dinner for my parents at night and getting great joy out of their satisfaction. Normal means being able to see my friend's babies toddlers grow and learn and change. Normal means teaching said toddler how to draw snowmen and getting him addicted to it. (Sorry Beth!) Normal means spending hours and hours on end applying for more than 150 jobs and still being unemployed; and then having your friends/colleagues tell you they have applied to double your amount and are still unemployed. Normal means trying to figure out how to make friends in a normal setting. Normal means trying to explain on a volunteer application why you have more than seven addresses in the last five years and not sound crazy. Normal means shoveling the limited amount of snow we have gotten. Normal means being pasty white (because I live in MN) and being okay with it. Normal means hanging out with my cousins on a weekly basis. Normal means meeting with dear friends who have equally un-normal lives but somehow have ended up normal with me. Normal means drinking more, wait for it- green tea than coffee. Yes, I did just admit to the world that I am drinking more green tea right now than coffee.

So in the midst of all this normal, I find it hard to write a blog. Yet people get famous by writing a blog on their normal lives. But is that really what I want? Not really. I don't really want to be a famous blogger. Maybe, just maybe, I am joining the ranks of normal bloggers. Mediocre bloggers. The thing is, wherever someone is in life it seems so normal to them that they don't think anyone would be interested in reading about their lives. Because to them, it seems boring. I even felt like that towards the end of my time in Uganda. Yet we fail to realize that our normal will never be normal to anyone else. Yes, other people may relate- but my reality in all its conditions will never be like anyone else. wow. Did I just talk myself into blogging? Maybe I did. But here is the thing. Do I have the desire and time? I have the time (remember the 150 failed job applications?) but do I have the desire? Probably not... at least not until my dear friend tells me to write another blog post.

And for kicks, since blog posts are always more interesting with pictures, I have included one with my mother and I doing a normal winter thing of visiting the conservatory.

Did you notice the pasty white skin? Yeah, apparently that is normal for Minnesota in January.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I had a wonderful day celebrating this American holiday. While the Ugandan society continued on in the rhythm of life, I paused to celebrate my favorite holiday of the year.

I watched youtube videos of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with my housemate. We laughed about old trends, how the announcers always tell you how many people it takes to pull a balloon and what its size equivalent it is so that you have an understanding of how big snoopy is or sponge bob.

We moved to the kitchen where we listened to Christmas music and made stuffing and glazed carrots for our Thanksgiving celebration. It truly felt like I was home (minus the cold weather and the family). Oh- and there were political parades that went down my street banging drums, blowing their horns, and screaming.

The morning passed quickly and soon I found myself with five Americans, two Ugandans, and a three-year-old Indian boy in a car on the way to celebrate Thanksgiving. This year, I didn’t cross the Mississippi river but the Nile! We went over the river to “the other side” where we drove an hour, through dirt roads, past the sugar cane to get to an orphanage where we celebrated. I joined twenty-two missionaries* and their children and we feasted! I am sure that our dinner table looked very similar to yours- except my turkey was killed in my backyard, my pumpkin pie came from boiling real pumpkin for hours, and the onion rings on the green bean casserole were deep-fried at home. However, it was the same and tasty! The grand prize went to a non-traditional dessert of chocolate mint cookies. Yum!

The crowd:


It was a wonderful time talking with everyone, learning about their work, and their lives. I even met a girl who was volunteering as a nurse from my hometown. It turns out that I know her sister! What a small, small world.

After our feast, we began to worship the Lord. We opened the hymnbook and began to sing, gazing at the amazing green vista. Here I was, with thirty or so people from different parts of the US, many of whom I had just met, and yet we worshipped. Then we gave testimony of why we were thankful.- one after another listing what God had done in the past year. I felt so blessed to be part of this group of people.


The view of the country side while we feasted.


After I came home from Thanksgiving dinner, I skyped with my family. I actually felt like I was home, sitting in the kitchen, with my cousins and brothers, helping my mom cook. It was such a good time of talking! When I finished talking with them, I called my Gram. This dear woman can probably relate to my life in Uganda better than any other family member I have. She grew up on a farm, she took care of the chickens, made soap, washed the clothes by hand, and wore (gasp) skirts. When I told her that we had turkeys in our backyard before they slaughtered them, she didn’t respond like my normal peers in the states- her response was to ask whether they were black or white turkeys. Apparently, their color plays a role in how they taste!




*Missionaries often receive harsh criticism from development practitioners. While I could easily write an entire blog on my opinion of missions and development, I will leave you with this comment: The majority of professional development workers and their NGOs have moved to the northern part of this country, leaving the south still in need. As a result, more and more missionaries have moved into the region, working with the people, and doing the best that they can.

Dancing

This past Thursday I went to Bulbandi to celebrate the end of the term and to say goodbye to the teachers. It was a glorious day!

The sun was so bright; the sky was blue and the clouds puffy white. Everywhere you look the rain has brought its magic to the land and as a result it is green. I was fortunate to sit in the front passenger seat on the way the way there and the way back. As a result, I didn’t have my typical view of African heads. Instead, I was able to watch the beautiful country roll by as I traveled to the next district (state).

On this ride, I realized (again) how beautiful this country is! The rolling hills full of maize, sugar cane, and tea plantations remind me of the drive through Wisconsin. It is this soothing rhythm of the fields swaying in the wind, the farmers working, and the children running about.

Arrived at my destination, stopped to buy some soda (FYI: I am sorry to admit I have officially converted from pop to soda) and the on my way to the school. This time, I directed my boda-boda driver where to go.

At the request of my teacher-friends, I also brought a mzungu cake- a nice, moist, chocolaty cake with real frosting. They LOVED it! They LOVED it! Well, it wouldn’t be too hard to impress these Ugandans with cake since their version is rather dry. We sat and reflected on the term, what they have learned, what they have accomplished, and their desires for the future.
After the students had completed the day’s exams, they assembled and began signing and dancing. Here I sat, under a tree, with a front row view of their performance. Picture small, Ugandan children, with their dirty school uniforms, mismatched sweaters and sandals, dancing and singing. I have often tried to figure out how to explain Ugandan dancing and singing. It is really quite difficult. Therefore, I have a short video which I will try to post at some point. My internet is just a bit too slow!


After the afternoon quickly passed, I had to leave. However, before I did I had a quick dancing lesson from the children. - A lesson on how to shake your hips properly. Let’s be honest, a white American really cannot shake her hips as well as any Ugandan in the world. However I had a lot of fun trying! One girl came right up, we were facing off, shaking, laugh, smiling, with a circle of children around us. Oh so much fun!

Back on my boda-boda to return to my taxi, back in the front seat, back to town. However on the way back, I realized that I felt at home. Being able to master transportation, on your own, in a new city/country is one way I mark my transition into a new place. Be it navigating the freeways of Southern California, or the skyways of Saint Paul, the Metro in D.C. or the taxi/boda-bodas of Uganda. Every time I realize I have mastered the transportation system, I feel content, happy, and glad to be where I am.

Food.

My dog eats better food than many of the people I interact with on a regular basis. How can this be you ask? My dog eats fish or meat nearly every night with a large helping of milked-posho. The humans in my life eat posho and occasionally beans or greens, hardly ever meat. In Uganda, food is part of politics, community, family, celebrations, and social status. The heavier you are, the more wealth you have because if you are fat, you can afford the food. However, the majority of Ugandans eat the same thing every day: posho and beans.

Food is so central to cultural identity, community, etc. It is hard for two human beings to get together without eating or drinking something. Think about it! You invite someone to your house, you will defiantly offer a drink and perhaps offer food. Sometimes you will cook for hours for the perfect meal for your guest. It is the same in the office. You have a visitor come and you offer coffee, tea, water, and perhaps some soda. You would be rude not to.

This week I spent a few hours at the home of a friend’s mother out in the village. This woman is strong; she has raised her children, lost her husband, and is now raising many of her grandchildren. (This community is feeling the effects of AIDS!) She “digs” in her garden to get the food she needs to survive. As in any other culture, it is rude not to offer your guest anything to eat or drink when they visit. So we received warm milk, jackfruit, and boiled maize (still on the husk). The milk came from the cow that greeted (or moo’ed) at me as we approached her compound. The jackfruit came from the tree she owns, and the maize came from a friend who happened to walk by and stop to say hello. This could be the epitome of the fashion trend of eating locally grown food. (Disclaimer: I am totally for eating locally grown food- support the local farmer, eat healthy, etc.) However, eating locally grown food, for most people in the world, is normal. Eating imported food is not.

As a recovering food addict, I tend to think a great deal about food. I like food, I like the flavors of food, I like sharing food with friends and family around a good conversation, I like trying new food. Food sustains our bodies, food defines what culture we come from, where we grew up, and who we have become. I had a lot of fun socializing with my friends and this dear woman’s home. While the foods I ate that afternoon would never be offered to a friend in the USA, I am grateful for the food, the gesture of kindness, and the continuation of a universal human trait: socialization and food.

Since being in Uganda, I am mastering the art of cooking from scratch. For example, last night I spent nearly three hours making the following from scratch: salsa, guacamole, tortilla chips, and taco meet. I made four things, from scratch that a person in the west could get in ten minutes if they ran to the local taco bell. I think I was on a Mexican food kick this week because earlier I made flour tortillas and sautéed bell peppers and onions for a “make it yourself taco bar” effect. Unfortunately, we have no access to cheese and no sour cream.

Cooking in Uganda is not like cooking in the States. In the States you combine pre-made items to get another meal. Take for example spaghetti: canned spaghetti sauce (which in my opinion is terrible) plus some pasta that you pull of the shelf. Heat, boil, and whala! You have dinner in twenty minutes. If I wanted the same dish I would boil the tomatoes, deseed, juice, dice, heat, mash, season, reheat and eat. In addition, there is the process of making pasta (although I am fortunate to have access to pre-made pasta).

Access to food is also different. I have the means to buy essentially whatever I need to make my American food. My friends, they are not fortunate enough to even buy the food to make their national dish and instead opt for the less expensive food.
People are dying of starvation around the world. And my country is gorging itself on pre-made, pre-packaged, packed full of sodium, fast food and is also dying. We have people starving to death and we have people eating themselves to death. Perhaps someday we can find a balance in the middle and share a table full of fresh, healthy food that sustains our lives.