Prints and Patterns

Some interesting finds at Japanese Thrift (yes, a thrift store stocked only with donations from Japan) and Lunch Box (my favorite new vintage dress shop).

Unrelated: Happy belated birthday, Dad! (Not that you read this, even though you are technically obligated to do so.)

Kep and Rabbit Island, pt. 3

Kep and Rabbit Island Top 6 Moments.

1. Evening. Floating in the ocean, in my purple ikat sarong (because I was told it would be inappropriate to just do a bikini), feeling the waves lap up and around me, swallowing me. Staring up at the velvet black sky and twinkling stars above.

2. Evening. Late late evening. Following my friends/colleagues out to the ocean, in darkness. Standing in chest-deep cold water, screaming. Watching the phosphorescence explode in lights and then slowly dissipate with each movement of my limbs, my hands, my fingers.

3. The two giant (and I mean, GIANT) karaoke speakers we lugged onto the small coconut boat. The startled faces of those on the island as we pulled those speakers out of the boat. And even better: the sunset serenade by our karaoke-obsessed colleague, as we jumped, danced, waded, attempted to swim in the distance.

4. Napping in the hammock after a good read.

5. 10+ kilos of crab at the Kep crab market. Corn waffles.

6. Getting lost in the bullet-riddled creepy mansion. (Kep was a major stomping ground for the Khmer Rouge.)

Mayle Pop-Up, West Coast

via Mayle

I still have tonight's dinner plaguing my thoughts, but I just received an email from the Mayle pop-up shop.

Must remember to breathe.

I may be in Los Angeles for the brick-and-mortar shop. Here's hoping.

Other thoughts: The idea of pants and/or a coat seems very novel to me right now, very otherworldly.

Stirring the Pot

source: The NYT

Last night, I made a bolognese sauce. Specifically, I spent an inordinate amount of time dicing/hacking/cursing vegetables to little bits, and then browning them, and then reducing the mixture in milk, and then stirring, stirring, stirring (fine, only occasionally), now and then throwing in some of the red wine I was drinking.

All of this work is for my Khmer colleagues, who I've invited for dinner tonight. I promised them a barang (foreigner) dinner, a spaghetti night actually, though by, the looks of the sauce (hearty, thick), a big rigatoni noodle would be a more suitable companion. I'm not much of a cook, so I laugh at how my good intentions always end up with stressful hijinks over the kitchen stove, late into the night. (I recall, very vividly, one night in undergrad spent making tabbouleh for 40 people. I did not own a food processor.)

I made the sauce last night, hoping the flavors would settle in by this evening. I hope I made enough. I must feed them more bread, just in case. Wish me luck.

Ingredients

5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

3-4 tablespoons butter

1 carrot, finely diced

1 green bell pepper, diced

1 onion, diced

1 celery, diced

2 cloves garlic, sliced

1 pound beef, ground

1 pound pork, ground

1/4 pound pancetta, ground (Note: I used bacon, as pancetta isn't always on offer Phnom Penh.)

1/2 tube tomato paste

4 medium sized tomatoes, sliced

1 cup milk

1 cup dry red wine

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Parmigiano-Reggiano, for grating

Steps

In a 6- to 8-quart, heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat the olive oil and butter over medium heat. Add the carrot, onion, celery and garlic and sweat over medium heat until the vegetables are translucent and soft but not browned, about 10 to 15 minutes.

Add the beef, pork and pancetta and stir into the vegetables. Add the meat over high heat, stirring to keep the meat from sticking together until browned.

Add the tomato paste, milk and wine and simmer over medium-low heat for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and remove from the heat.

When ready to use, cooked pasta should be added to a saucepan with the appropriate amount of hot Bolognese and tossed so the pasta is evenly coated. Serve topped with grated cheese.

Serves 4 to 6.

Recipe adapted from Mario Batali.

Standing

Another quick thought: I have lived and worked in a third world country for 6+ months now, in a field that is as meaningful and intellectually stimulating as it is emotionally challenging, doing advocacy and legal work that I could not have dreamed up before my move, with experiences that still floor me (and I am relatively numb to these things now), that make me laugh, shake my head in disbelief and, sometimes, in anger, in hope, in mind-boggling, eye-opening amazement.

That is where I stand today, incidentally in the only Mayle dress I brought along (not that others would find that very blogworthy, but I heart Mayle).

And in about a week, I go home to visit family and friends.

P.S. Actually, it has been 7+ months. Time flies.

the holidays in Phnom Penh

It's beginning to look like Christmas in Phnom Penh. As my bus came back from Battambang last week, I could not miss the lights strewn about, the Christmas trees, the silver tinsel in storefronts. Yesterday, at brunch with Alex, Sotheary, and Will at Java, I even had a gingerbread cookie.

Today

This feeling comes and goes. Now and then, it rears its head, only to be lost in the din of daily life, dissolving into forgetfulness. But I'm holding onto it for a minute more, and today, I am documenting it. To remember.

In our big meeting this morning with the "big" stakeholders, as I munched on buttery cake, I thought: All the pouring over documents, laws, and legal memos; all the drafting and re-drafting, the agonizing over one word; all the site visits to impoverished communities via bumpy bus rides, to communities where, when you sit still for a moment, a swarm of flies attacks, where the heat is unbearable, where you are fatigued so quickly; all the women crying to me with their stories, with their half-naked children in their arms; all the evidence gathering.

SOMETHING -- and I don't know the contours of that "something" yet -- has come out of this, grown from it, from my work.

Amazing.

These pictures are from my trip to Japan with Mami last year. We were in Kyoto, on a cold afternoon that was quickly turning to evening. I remember walking through the park that floated above the city, staring at the reddening trees, above and below.

Not related. But this is kind of sums up how I feel this afternoon.