Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

What is your favorite fruit?

 I take attendance by having the students answer a question (previously 2017).

What is your favorite fruit?

  • watermelon (x7)
  • mango (x6)
  • apple (x2)
  • grapes (x2)
  • raspberries (x2)
  • pears
  • bananas
  • pineapple
  • peach
  • clementine
  • strawberry
  • blueberry
  • orange
I'm surprised that watermelon surpassed mango, the previous champion.

This post's theme word is tergiversate (v), "to evade, to equivocate; to change one's loyalties." The student population tergiversated between large, sweet, round fruits.

Saturday, June 27, 2020

A hundred days of quarantine

We've passed 100 days of self-isolation but, in the tradition of this blog, I missed it exactly and will just post some half-finished thoughts here to expurgate them from my mind. Welcome to approximately the 112th day of solitude. And unlike grad school, there's no end in sight.

I miss people. It turns out that many of my pastimes actually required people, or at least the passing proximity of others, and are now extremely ill-advised and mostly unavailable. Board games are so great in-person as a way to escape into a shared brain-space with friends; at a distance, board games (and pretty much everything else) take a lot more effort and yield a lot less feeling of shared camaraderie. Ditto rock climbing, but extremely more so. And forget singing along during road trips --- the travel, the singing, the enclosed space, all of it is now verboten to the pandemic-pragmatic.

I miss the full-bandwidth promise of a real-time in-person conversation, one where no one drops out, no one freezes, talking over each other can be moderated by subtle physical and social cues, and my headphones do not leave a grooved imprint of my glasses on my skull.

I miss the fantasy I once held, maybe a decade ago in the midst of my extremely academic studies, that I might be living in a golden age of rationality and scientifically-founded decision-making. I miss the feeling that I might be effective or a positive influence on others, and I'm struggling to see how to "pivot" (eugh) my skills, which are almost 100% cultivated for in-person activities, to be effective and useful in a permanent pandemic world. I miss feeling like I can be effective at all, beyond donating my money and privilege to try to ameliorate the many ravaging horrors of our age. From a distance, of course.

Positively: I've cleaned my house, and it's staying quite clean. (I'm the only one who can enjoy this or pass judgment on inadequately-dusted ledges, anyway.) All houseplants are flourishing. I'm doing yardwork. I'm 2 full weeks ahead on my workout plan. I'm working on a lot of solitary at-home projects that would otherwise have languished. I'm contemplating what I want to do with the rest of my life to try to have a positive impact; I'm answering emails, letters, and postcards, and pumping the snail-mail system full of words, feelings, and time-delayed connections. I've learned to bake cheese in pastry crust. I've reworked my budget to enable more donations. I'm watching performances from artists I would never get to see in-person, as everyone has been forcibly shoved online, so they are effectively closer and more available to me than previously.

I'm waking every morning to shake my fists at the Gods of Bandwidth and propitiate the Lesser Deities of Lag and Latency.

I wonder...
... when was my last hug? I remember one pretty late, but was that truly my last hug?
... when was my last handshake? Will that be the final handshake of my life?
... when was the last time I ate in a restaurant? I don't remember. Maybe that will never happen again.
... when will I next see my family? Paradoxically it will probably not be enjoyable to see them because of the apprehension that the very act of meeting will impose a danger on everyone involved.

I think I could last a long time, a psychologically inadvisable time, in socially distant isolation. Comparing it with the risk of transmitting disease, contributing to transmitting disease, or myself becoming sick, and remaining isolated looks like a moral imperative. Whether by my example or by the incidental impact of self-selecting out of the situations where transmission occurs, this seems like my only acceptable mode of conduct. YMMV.

Don't worry. I'm not a hermit. I have an extremely healthy correspondence; I am an active letter-writer. And of course, now as always, I am a being that consists 80% of Simply Being Online.

Plus ça change.


This post's theme word is empanoply (v. tr.), "to enclose in complete armor." We are advised to empanoply ourselves at home, and I have empanoplied this cheese in flaky pastry.

Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Blueberries

I am a notorious blueberry-lover. 'Twas with great anticipation that I received the housewarming gift of someone planting blueberry bushes for me, just outside my window.

One plant even came with a blueberry, already there!
... unfortunately, this blueberry only survived two days in the yard. I checked on it lovingly each morning and evening, keeping in touch with its gradually blue-ing hue; then it mysteriously vanished. According to leads and the berry investigator, local birds are the leading suspect.

A very close inspection this evening revealed that the bush is trying again with a second berry.
This berry will be closely guarded, from its current green state to its future and fully-ripe state. I already have a plan to encase it in mesh to protect from bird incursions.

I note that the plural in the title of this blog post is, in fact, accurate: there have been two berries. A third will be just as welcome!


This post's theme word is fabian (adj), "avoiding direct confrontation; cautious; delaying." The fabian approach to berry-harvesting requires protection against impatient berry-eating competitors.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Mars Needs Women

A dangerous beverage, I'd guess.


This post's theme word is yardang (n), "an elongated ridge formed by wind erosion, often resembling the keel of an upside down ship." When we settle on Mars, we'll investigate the apparent yardangs.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Needs more garlic

Like all social media, this blog too shall ultimately devolve into food and travel porn. Be glad I have decided to spare you the endless selfies.

Behold, a garlic and rosemary-speared  dough:
And, after baking, the beauty of olive-oil-roasted spices emerging from a fluffy bread base:
Gluten, your siren song wafts on currents of oven-driven air.

This post's theme word is zymic, "relating to fermentation." We are thankful for zymic advances in baking science.

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Cookies

Cookies, cookies, and more cookies! Texas receives a special shout-out for being the most fun cookie cutter to use. The pi/2 fork rotation is also pretty fun. 
The fuzzy focus is a side effect of lens smudging, not postprocessing filters. (I'm traditional that way.)
Rolling crumbly cookies by hand is my least favorite, as it involves a lot of labor per cookie.


This post's theme word is girn (verb intr.), "to snarl, grimace, or complain" or (noun), "a grimace or snarl." The plethora of dessert options brought nary a smile to the family gathering.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Ramen

I am able to supply an approximate of authentic ramen on-demand (given certain supplies and materials).
Photo credit: M.
Properly, the egg should be soft-boiled. And kimchi is a nonstandard variant.

Welcome to vacation: a designated period when there is enough spare time to chop lots of tiny pickles and engage in fancy plating and food-photography.


This post's theme word is xerophilous, "adapted to a very dry or desert environment." Soup is not popular in xerophilous societies.

Sunday, December 18, 2016

So many cookies

Truly, a lot of cookies.


This post's theme word is aciniform (adj), "shaped like a cluster of grapes." Hark! Do I see aciniform cookies across the room? I shall go investigate.

Friday, November 25, 2016

Pasta pizza

Why, though?
You know what would go great atop this starchy transport layer? Another layer of starch, with a different form factor!


This post's theme word is matutolypea (n), "the state of being in a bad mood, annoyed, obnoxious first thing in the morning." Pasta pizza is known to invoke matutolypea, for its inappropriate use of starches too early in the day.

Thursday, October 20, 2016

What is the worst food additive?

I take attendance by having the students answer a question.

What is the worst food additive?

  • sugar
  • salt
  • coloring
  • oil
  • that thing in cheetoes that's killing orangutans
  • "artificially flavored" anything
  • MSG
  • aspartame
  • sugar alcohols
  • creatine
  • bacon
  • mustard
  • pepper
  • carrots
  • durian
  • insects
  • beetles
  • maggots
  • bricks
  • cement
  • cyanide
I have taken the liberty of sorting these from most likely to be added to a food to least likely. For some pairwise comparisons, I guessed.

I have no idea what the deal is with orangutans, but you can find out.


This post's theme word is olid, "foul-smelling." What olid horrors have you added to this soup stock?

Saturday, May 21, 2016

The most important supermarket sign

Phew, I am much relieved. This is a critically important part of every French store!


This post's theme word is zymurgy, "the branch of chemistry dealing with fermentation and brewing." The syzygy of dairy and zymurgy produces delectable fantasies!

Friday, March 25, 2016

Beautifully-arranged patisseries

I appreciate these single-serving, perfectly-aligned tidbits of dessert.
The colors are great. And I'm sure that each one has its own special vocabulary word. I'd identify them by pointing, probably, or secondarily by color and shape and weird hand gestures.


This post's theme word is larruping, (adv) "very," or (adj) "excellent." What larruping, sweet desserts! What larruping sweet desserts!

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Tomatoes

Many thanks to the nameless supermarket designers and employees whose choices in lighting, display baskets, and arrangements of tomatoes resulted in this delightful spread.
Anyone for some sphere-packing practice?
The addition of other vegetables for variety in color and visual texture serves to emphasize the red, rounded, Platonically-ideal tomatoes.


This post's theme word is bleb, "a bubble," or "a small blister or swelling." If your rash of blebs resembles this pile of tomatoes, seek immediate medical attention.

Monday, March 21, 2016

Chocolate window display season

The seasons are observed here primarily by fashionable footwear and window displays. We are now solidly into the "absurdities constructed of chocolate" season. (Previously.) The displays either fall into the "embarrassing abundance of chocolate riches" camp:
Everything can be chocolatized: snowmen, chickens, bunnies, eggs, n'importe quoi (simply everything).
... or the "stark and dark but decidedly sumptuous" camp.
Vaguely religious, for those who worship hollow animals made of chocolate.
The displays are delightful.
Hundreds of euros' worth of exquisite chocolates.
I cannot find anywhere --- not even the British specialties importer* --- who has Cadbury minieggs. The European-brand substitute is not the same, does not elicit the taste-memories of late-night problem sets and slogging through slushy snow. I gaze upon a wealth of taste, and miss my lowbrow origins.

This post's theme word is suasion, "the act of urging; persuasion." The particular arrangement on display was the final suasion tempting me into the shop of earthly delights.


*An inexplicable business, here in the heart of France, which imports bland dried and canned food from the UK, and somehow stays open. I admit I patronize them for the oatcakes, so I am supporting the import of inexplicable gustatory horrors into the land of wine, cheese, and bread.

Monday, March 14, 2016

Pi(e) day (observed)

Certain calendrical conventions mean that today is not any particular day. But on the other side of a large body of water, there's a continent where dates are written hodgepodge, in no significant order. In recognition of this dubious date mismatch, I ventured forth and had a piece of pie.

This post's theme word is nugacity, "triviality, futility." The nugacity of the approximation does not dull the palate's enjoyment!

One year with a food scale and a spreadsheet

Let's take a brief jaunt into one of my most active spreadsheets: the one that tracks my macronutrients (consumed), exercise (performed), and weight (mass * gravity). I now have about a year of data, so perhaps we can see some trends.

The motive for the spreadsheet --- and the food scale which enabled me to precisely measure my food, for cooking, eating, and tracking purposes --- was mostly curiosity, an enjoyment of data points, and the interest to see if there were any long-term changes that were too gradual to notice on a daily basis.

Here's the chart, minus all labels because I don't have infinite time to wrestle with chart software to make something nice-looking, and also I don't have the expertise for what features a good chart should have.

X-axis: days in the past year (some data incomplete on some days)
Y-axis blue: kilocalories consumed (centerline is daily recommendation)
Y-axis green: exercise (goes from slothlike 0 at bottom to outrageously exhausting LAC day at top)
Y-axis red: mass ("normal" BMI cutoff is bottom 1/8 of scale; the rest is "overweight"; total span is ~6kg)
Obviously these clusters of blue/green/red dots are not super-easy to read. I have made your chart-reading life more difficult by stripping off all labels on the axes, for my own private reasons. It might help to interpolate some trendlines. Here are linear interpolations.
With linear trendlines, it looks like mass tends towards 0.
At various intermediate exponents between 2 and 10, the best-fit polynomials have weird corners or predict extreme blowup/decreases outside the range. This seems like a bad fit because my weight will probably not plummet to 0 in the next few years, and my exercise did not start at 8x my current effort just before the data began.

Here are some 10th-degree polynomial interpolations (below). I picked 10 because that was the highest available, and I have no idea what sort of trendline I should be picking to get a "meaningful" trend (visually interesting, useful, predictive). Notice that these polynomials predict crazy extremes --- my weight before the data was enormous, and my future weight is smoothly tapering down. I have fun watching how the best-fit polynomial changes when I add a new data point, as the relative flatness of the data means that it sometimes wiggles in an aesthetically pleasing way to accommodate the new point.
With degree 10 polynomial trendlines, the downtick in mass echoes the uptick in exercise.

This is not groundbreaking data analysis. Clearly. But I do enjoy playing with a spreadsheet.

Some very plain observations:
  • kCals: I eat approximately the daily recommended kCals, with some reasonable variation. A few of the really low outlier days I had a bad cold or food poisoning. The high outlier days I was just hungrier, so I ate more. Some of the really high outlier days are missing, as I definitely ate more on vacation in BBQ-feasting Texas, but I didn't reliably measure those days and didn't worry about it.
  • exercise: I'm using Fitocracy to turn my various workouts into a single number. Sometimes the number seems much too low/high compared to how much effort I felt the workout required. But at least it's a standardized measure.
    The trendline is helpful here because in any given week, hard workouts are mixed in with easy ones, so probably the average is more enlightening than the actual individual data points. (The chart has all that empty space at the top because high-outlier workout days occur at regular intervals, once or twice a week, and I wanted to visually include them in the chart.)
    The recent uptick in exercise reflects the fact that I have been going climbing once a week, regularly replacing a low-scoring easy workout with a high-scoring hard one. It's nice that the trendline shows this.
  • weight: I lost some, but if you look at the data points you'll see that my daily weight varies. The trendline is useful here for seeing, well, a trend. Much more interesting would be my density measurement, but of course I don't have this historical data. Based on how my clothing fits, I have swapped some undense fat for some dense muscle, but the single-number mass measurement doesn't reflect this change in volume.
Your advice for what I should do with this data is welcome. What would be interesting? I should probably just take a few classes of the coursera data science sequence and figure it out myself. I also have the breakdown of kCal into fat/carbohydrates/protein for each day, if you can think of something interesting to do with that. (Mostly it shows that the decrease in kCal came from eating less carbohydrates, but keeping protein the same, which was a result of conscious intent on my part.)
A time-travelling version of myself from the 1920s. (Illustration from La Culture Physique de la Femme Elégante, as posted here.)
Some non-empirical observations about this time period and set of data. I did not feel particularly hungry or like I needed food during this data period, even though I observably consumed fewer total calories and expended more. I found that I felt slightly overall more comfortable in my body: warmer in winter, cooler in summer, and generally more flexible (a bodily sensation I enjoy). (Other possible factors there: different clothing, different climate, different locations, the weird hyperbole/discounting of memories of past physical sensations.) Flipping through my logged workouts, my incremental increases in strength and endurance continue. One big difference between the logged data period and, e.g., graduate school, is that I don't really nap anymore. But there are enough other factors at play here --- my postdoc work schedule, French cultural conformity enforcing a standard and synchronized pattern of wake up-commute-work-lunch-commute-dinner, etc. --- that I have no idea if my food intake has had a causal effect on my decreased napping, or if other confounding factors have combined, or if perhaps I just aged into an adult sort of schedule which my body finds comfortable.

May your green trend ever upwards!


This post's theme word is overmorrow, "the day after tomorrow." Can your model predict how much I shall exercise on the overmorrow?

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Yule logs

The celebratory Christmas-themed rolled, frosted cake is called a "buche de noël", a Yule log.  
It comes in many flavors, sizes, colors, and options.
It is a fancier, dressed-up, high-quality Twinkie. (I'm guessing. I've never actually tried one, except maybe in French class in the US, so that barely counts.)
The tiny sizes are called "buchettes", loglettes.

This post's theme word is yare, "easily maneuverable, nimble," or "ready, prepared." The logs for Yule are yare. Yare Yule logs, come and get 'em!

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Christmas markets

Living in Europe is living in exotic lands, which oscillate between the boring quotidian and the fascinatingly foreign. Markets in the street? Bizarre, and probably an impediment to free circulation in my home zone. But here, a normal seasonal thing, as if the seasons still drove the production of agricultural products. As if we lived before electricity and refrigeration and quick, cheap transport.

But who can argue with this pile of cheeses?
The green, blue, and pink ones are worrisome.
"Look at these bountiful piles!" is the theme of the displays. As usual, all goods are sequestered by type, and each merchant has one extremely narrow specialty. This contributes to the quaint dissonance, the romantic peculiarity of being an immigrant.
Piles and piles, plus hanging from the roof.
The overall winter holiday cheer here is engaging and fun, with a usual French focus on the edible and drinkable delights. Roasted chestnuts, mulled cider and wine, cheeses and meats, waffles and crêpes. An entire hidden alley where children could sneak away to see animatronic animals (including that ever-present Christmas Octopus!) and a complementary alley where adults could sneak away to taste champagne and sautéed mushrooms. And of course, everywhere candy, interspersed with all other goods. It's a sugary season, for the eyes and tastebuds alike.


This post's theme word is decorticate, "to remove the outer layer, such as the bark, rind, husk, etc." Most preserved winter foods must be decorticated before mastication, ingestion, and digestion.

Friday, December 18, 2015

Fruit

This very pleasing fruit display used mirrors and standard-size rectangular boxes.
The mirror symmetry is part of the pleasing visual aspect, as well as the variety of colors and the roundness of the apples. I like that the mirrors and shelves are both angled, so that the reflected image is showing a side of the fruit not visible from the front.

Apples, apples, apples.

As seen in Lausanne, Switzerland.


This post's theme word is tegular, "relating to, resembling, or arranged like tiles." The tegular apple crates filled the shelf and my view.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Food round-up: onigiri, etc.

Never have I ever felt my kanji dearth more strongly than when confronted with food choices.
On the other hand, how can you go wrong when confronted with a wall of onigiri?


This post's theme word (via page 297 of Miéville's Kraken) is sybarite, "a person devoted to luxury or pleasure." Behold, the sybarite's fridge!