Friday, December 2, 2011

Don't look inside the fridge - Revision

It was the first day of a weeklong vacation. It was the first time I would be away from home without my parents. I was staying at my grandparents’ house. I didn’t know what that week would have in store for me.

Just inside the door I realized something was wrong. There was a terrible, almost vomit inducing smell wafting from inside the door. It was almost as if death itself resided inside. I didn't know what was the cause of the smell but soon discovered it was coming from her food.

I hadn’t eaten much all day due to the long trip getting there and I was starving. I opened the fridge to look for something to eat and was horrified at what I saw lurking inside. A box full of strawberries had peculiarly grown a grey fur coat. Further inspection revealed that most of the food inside was over a year expired. I decided then that I would never open that fridge again.

The guest room I was staying in smelled even worse than the rest of the house. After a while of searching I found two stained burlap sacks in the closet. Opening the first sack revealed the bag was full of onions that were so old they had become liquified to the point where they were almost unidentifiable. The second sack contained potatoes that had met the same fate as the onions. The smell unleashed from the bags was completely unbearable. I emptied the sacks into the trash the first chance I got (I hope they weren't missed).

The day after I arrived I decided I was going to eat cereal for breakfast. I thought cereal wasn't perishable but I would soon be proven wrong. After I poured milk on the cereal I noticed something floating to the top. At first glance they appeared to be some kind of fruit but upon further inspection they revealed themselves to be ants.

I thought my family was exaggerating when they called her car "the traveling compost heap" but I was beginning to realize this wasn't far from the truth. I had seen food in the compost heap that was in much better condition than the food I saw in her house. I couldn't imagine how anyone could eat her food without a cast-iron stomach or completely dead taste buds. It was apparently impossible to convince her to throw any of her food away (unless it is infested with ants).

As the week progressed I realized the only safe food to eat was the food I witnessed her purchasing (and knew its expiration date). I ate very little that week and managed to avoid becoming too ill (although I lost a few pounds in the process). I have lost count of the number of times I have become ill as a result of eating at her house. I was naive enough as a child to keep eating more of her food after my first illness. I have since learned to avoid it entirely.



Monday, November 28, 2011

Portfolio part 1: remix of place essay




The “Ode to Joy”, one of Beethoven’s greatest works that describes the composers unsurpassed joy and gratification. This, symphony of delight is what immediately started to play in my head the first time I tasted TOTT’s, short for Talk of the Thai’s, food.

I remember the first time I walked into TOTT’s, three or four years ago the first thought that came to my mind was “DUCK!” being that I thought that the neon lime green walls of this quaint little hole in the wall Thai food restaurant were about to slap me in the face. Erasing the very surprised look on my face I walked up to the counter and told the hostess that I wanted a table for two. As I sat down I thought how surprising this little Thai food joint was. The restaurant is situated on the corner of Alameda and Garrison (here's a map to get to TOTT's) in the farthest west corner of the small strip mall that occupies the intersection’s southwestern most corner. The outside is flat gray, a little dirty, and can’t be seen from Alameda, at all. I had half expected to be greeted by a drab little Asian restaurant with the lights dimmed, and a bored hostess absently flipping through the channels of his TV. Instead what I see is six lime green walls, an assortment of different shaped lights, some very new age art on the walls, and a smiling Buddha statue that looks like it belongs in the smoke filled basement of some teenage pot head. As I sit down at our clear glass table, with chrome chair accompaniment, I notice more odd things about the restaurant: like how there is a bookshelf full of various blown glass art and how everyone around me has an artfully prepared looking meal.

I was very hungry after seeing all this artsy and delicious Thai food so I started to scan the menu for a tasty looking lunch entrée. My eye was immediately drawn to the fact that in the dessert section of this menu there was no Asian dessert; Neapolitan ice cream, tiramisu, crepes? What kind of Asian restaurant serves only European dessert? My hopes of having a truly exceptional lunch experience had been significantly lowered. So when I choose to order the Mongolian beef I wasn’t expecting much. All show and no go I was thinking as I walked to the bathroom at the end of the one room restaurant. The bathroom was actually one of the nicest I’ve ever seen. It had one of those fancy basin sinks and the whole thing smelled like some exotic fruity fragrance.

After washing my hands and heading back to our table I was happy to see that our food was already there. I thought to myself, this could either mean that my meal was made badly and quickly or that the chef knows what he was doing and that it didn’t take him very long. Sitting down it did look really good. The whole plate was a square shape with folded up edges that made the whole thing look kind of like the building of some Asian palace. Even how the food was arranged on the plate made it look better. The beef was glazed in a delicious looking brown sauce covered with onions and surrounded by broccoli. There was also a sliced and arranged orange in the top right corner above the mound of fried rice that I had ordered with my meal. As I took my first bite of the slightly spicy Mongolian beef I knew this was the best Mongolian beef I had ever tasted.

Since my first time coming to TOTT’s I have tried many and more of their lunch, and dinner entrées. The peanut chicken, the Thai noddle bowl, the orange chicken etc….. And from all this the only conclusion that I can come to is that, TOTT’s is my favorite restaurant and that it has some of the best Asian-Thai food in Denver and maybe all of Colorado. So, if you ever find yourself in the neighborhood, I hope you’ll enjoy the life changing Thai experience that it TOTT’s.

Friday, October 21, 2011

A new apreciation(Final)


An athlete of any kind must keep their bodies at a tip-top shape in order to be successful. I started wrestling at the age of six, in England, and in those day, it was purely for enjoyment, however, my wrestling career became serious my junior year of high school, and many foods that I had once loved so dearly were gone, in hopes a of a championship.


I stayed on a strict high protein low carb diet for over two years, and it was miserable. I no longer ate my beloved Salt&Vinegar Kettle chips (pictured) and mom's delicious lasagna was out of the question. For two years my taste buds had been abused by the flavor from plain salads, dry chicken and protein shakes.


This made my cooking obsessed French mother very worried, and the skinnier I got the more she tried to lure me into the kitchen, to smell the enticing aroma that wafted through the air as a delicious plate of homemade lasagna baked in our oven. Or at six in the morning after I returned from my morning run when she had prepared a full breakfast complete with crispy bacon mouthwatering hash-brows and a large milkshake. It killed me every time I turned down her offers for food, but I wanted to win, at any cost.


However, in February of 2010 I hit my wall. I was at the second largest tournament of the year, a huge deal for me, and my overbearing coach. Even on a diet I weighed about 140lbs I had decided to wrestle at 130lbs for this tournament. For me this meant a solid month of a 800 calorie a day diet, and a solid week of pretty severe weight cutting, you know, running with trash bags, exercise bikes in saunas, that sort of thing. At the tournament I weighed in at 130.00lbs and promptly passed out. I wrestled a good tournament and ended up getting 3rd.


My mother on the other hand had decided this was enough. And after various meeting with dietitians and even, to my own humor, a psychologist, my mother decided it would be best to lock me in the house, and gargantuan bowl of spaghetti and not let me out until it was finished.


I gladly accepted.


As I ate the pasta it seemed as every bite exploded in my mouth with the sort of flavor one would expect from a meal at a five-star establishment. It was as if each little piece of sauce was performing CPR on my previously neglected taste buds. As a wise man once said, "The tomatoes tasted as if they had been picked under a warm Tuscan sun". I finished the impressive bowl before I knew it, from that moment forth I ate all that was prepared for me, although sometimes I had to pass or the fried fish or fries, my new appreciation for food had been born.
At this point I would to say that I continued my season with reasonable eating, and healthy weight loss, but that would be far from the truth. After my delicious bowl of spaghetti, I went back to my usual diet, and a clear list of dietary restrictions remained posted in my kitchen. This continued throughout the rest of that season, where I placed in the top eight and became an All-American over the summer. My senior year was no different, however that year I ate more yet worked even harder. Many people didn't understand what I would do, but I knew it work, and it did.
To this day, every time I eat food, I think back to that day of the spaghetti bowl. I think about how delicious it tasted, this new appreciation for food is one that was acquired through hard work and persistence, I will forever think of food as a privilege.




The stomping of hooves the thunder of the saddle riding is much harder then it seems. Each ride is different each ride brings out the better of me. No horse is the same and no rider is the same so it is a different experience for each and every person. Hard work means many things to many people but to me it is all about the prize at the end. A good meal cannot be beat if it is made properly. A juicy moist steak with a warm mango salsa and asparagus made the perfect meal after this crazy ride, but riding is not the only thing that hungers me any hard activity makes me think of food even if it is just clowning around.
Burning calories demands hard work and hard work drives a hunger deep inside. Ever since I was young I had a very high metabolism rate making it very hard to stay full for a long time. Even worse I was a very hyper kid growing up. My parents could never get me to come inside I was always running around never stopping. I also played a lot of sports when I was younger I ran cross country and wrestled since sixth grade. Wrestling really got to me my junior year when I became captain and really had to take responsibility. I was weighing in at 125 pounds at the beginning of the year and within three weeks I had dropped down to 105 pounds. This took a serious tole on my body making me very weak. At the time I did not care because I was doing great taking first in four of our six large tournaments and second and third in our other ones, but by the time the state tournament came around I was getting very weak. I was ready I was ranked fourth in the tournament overall. I couldn't wait for it to come. The first day went well winning my first and only match. That night went badly though I felt very sick and could barely move. I was up all night my parents force feeding me water but I was unable to keep it down. the next day came fast and I knew I was in trouble when my parents had to help me walk to my car, finally we made it to the tournament and I stepped on the scale shocked to see the I was point two pounds overweight. I walked out of the room ashamed of myself. I made it only a few feet before I collapsed in the middle of the hall. Twenty minutes later I was found by an off duty EMT luckily he found my parents and told them exactly what to do. I had lost so much weight that I became very sick and spent the next week slowly trying to eat gaining a little weight every day. Finally after a week I was back up to 130 and was feeling great until my senior year.
The year was going great for me I had taken sixth at our state tournament and was ready to finish the year strong all I had left to do was get my wisdom teeth out. It was spring break when I got them removed and it sucked for a few days but then the pain went away. It was only three days until I started getting very sick. It started with a sore throat not being able to eat any delectable food at all. From there I started to lose a lot of weight quickly making myself very week. After that it went downhill for me fast it started one day as I was lying in bed as sick as a dog when all of a sudden I could feel myself slowly stop breathing. I started to panic I grabbed everything I cold and started throwing it trying to make myself as loud as possible finally going into shock. Luckily my dad found me soon after that and called an ambulance. I woke up in a hospital bed scared for my life. Soon a doctor walked in and told me all that had happened and diagnosed me with lemierre's syndrome. The doctor sat down with me and had a very serious talk about what would happen if it was too late (with a 90% mortality rate if untreated), and how I had a very good chance of major surgery. I knew that this could end badly for me so this first thing I asked for was a steak and potatoes, 30 minutes later I was in heaven eating the best steak of my life. I had never appreciated anything more than a simple meal. Even though I could not move my right arm I was in severe pain everything disappeared with that first bite. When I got out of the hospital eight days later I was very excited even though I had faced death I realized that I needed to enjoy life so much more. I got home with a buffet of food waiting for me. Two months later I was done with all of my medications and I had put all my weight back on. That’s when I really started to live I was out everyday doing something. I went to Mexico for a week I rode horses all the time I started rock climbing and hiking all of the time, and after every activity I did I always prepared my own food to the best standards I could make, but nothing could bring me back to that little bit of hope that I held on to through that single steak.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Final Enchiladas Final

Enchiladas. What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear the word, enchiladas? Mexican food? That sounds good? Or maybe even what the heck is that? Well, to me, when I hear that word I think of Christmas. A time where my sister, mother, and I get together to face the long strenuous task of making the enchiladas. This is all a really amazing memory that I have kept close to my heart since I was little. 
My grandma would always have Christmas dinner at her place. The family would go over and just spend time together. I remember playing with my brother and sisters in the living room while, my mom and grandma would sit at the kitchen counter making the enchiladas. Of course at the time we didn’t know how hard that task would be. My grandma would tell us to come over and show us children how to make them, with her. We couldn’t do it as well as she could but we still tried.  But when my grandmother past away, my mom took over the responsibility of making and hosting Christmas for all of her children and grandchildren. It was a hugh difference and also a huge change as well. But we all made it through with the memories of the past Christmas’ and bringing those memories to the present with a new generation. With all the same traditions that have been handed down from generation to generation.
We start the process early in the morning, my sister comes over and she makes the red chile for the enchiladas, while the chili is simmering on the stove you can smell the hot spices lingering in the air. Then we have a cup of coffee and talk for a little while and maybe have some breakfast. We go over all that needs to be done and see if we have enough of all the ingredients before we get started making the enchiladas.
Which would consists of: red chili powder, cheese, chicken, oil, water, flour, corn tortillas, onions, and a heaping bowl of Christmas Eve day making this food. Next comes putting it all together. We get really excited at this part because we know that the task is almost over. The red chili has a certain smell to it, it’s a smell that I can’t quite but my finger on. Maybe sweet, or sour with a little bit of the hot smell. We make these every year and you would think that we would not argue about how it should be done or if my way is the right way or my sisters’ way is the right way but we still do year after year, not that one way is better than the other it just happens. After we realize what we are doing we laugh about it and have fun while making the enchiladas.
Finally when everything is done and put away, we relax and wait till Christmas to eat them. When we do eat them we warm them up, add pork green chili, lettuce, tomatoes, and if people want more cheese. The final product is so good, you could smell them a mile way. The chili blends together to make the perfect taste, along with the tortilla that cools your mouth when the chili is so hot. Most of all, having my family seated all over the house eating the food that we all love so much. That’s what’s so memorable about enchiladas. We only eat them once a year, together as a family, and only on Christmas Day too.

 
   










 
   









Wednesday, October 12, 2011

What you Just Ate Was Your Image





What You Just Ate, Is Your Image - Final



If the old sang that you are what you eat is really true, than what you eat can describe you. It could show your beleifs, values, habits, origin, social class, status, attitude, lifestyle, personality, as well as many other details. When I realized this I was schocked with how much information as simple as what someone is eating. That is all you need you don't need to look at them, hear them talk, become their friend, just look at how and what they are eating. Think about some grocery store items like energy bars, coffee, frozen dinners, twinkies. Now picture someone buying these items in your head, what charateristics can you pick out about this item. Do you have any stereo-types about the kind of person that eats that item. Its amazing what attributes you cna pickout by simply focusing on the food. When I think of someone buying an energy bar I think of someone who is in shape, good health, fitness, fast paced lifestyle. Coffee on the other hand is well associated with quick energy early in the morning before going to work(also known as in rush and late for work but “give me my coffee!!!”). Maybe high stress environment and lifestyle, sound familiar yet? Oh and do not try telling me with a straight face that you have never heard anyone say “I can’t live without coffee”. Of course what would America do without twinkies. If you had to create a profile for the person eating this twinkie it might be something along the lines of fat slob, no job, no life, couch potato living off of tax payers money. Yes that’s a little extreme but hey it’s a quick first thought observation right? But don’t forget your frozen dinners. Now let me take a wild stab to if see if I have any similar thoughts. Can’t cook or at least cook anything palatable. Likes things to be quick, simple, and cheap. Is a self proposed microwave chef master. Now then if you are capable of judging and making quick observations like that by simply walking by some else in a grocery store and immediately connecting the food they are about to purchase with these common thoughts or asumptions then you can read their identity, in this case by what they are putting in their mouths. To explain this I will use my own family as examples of this ability of human nature’s.

My step mom Laurie for example has come to love gourmet restaurants. I mean real gourmet restaurants not P.F. Changs or anything like that. Well she would find this addiction in of all places; Disney World in Orlando, Florida. We were there because I had a five day golf tournament there, at a course which happened to be owned by Disney World. Well my dad decided to book a vacation and if you ever had a burger where the burger looks extremely small like you could take it in one bite and swallow it hole, well my golf tournament would be the meat in that burger. We would go to a number of very high class restaurants like ones that Disney Executives went to regularly for lunch. Where the entire meal including all four courses takes from 2 to 4 hours. Where they give you the menu and your immediate reaction is what the ****. As you sit there staring at the menu and saying that you have no idea what half of these words mean. Then you start thinking that menu was written in some foreign language and then translated for you by someone who does not understand the common fools version of english. Where the first item on the menu looks something like “Grilled white breast meat chicken marinated in rosemary $$$$$$ $$$$$ wine with a mixture of seared vegetables surrounded by mashed potatoes whipped to perfection.” Then for the fun of it you try and take a peek at the tab and your Dads’s response while simply grabbing his wallet with no expression on his face says “you don’t want to know”. I have since learned to keep my head down and follow my stomachs lead by enjoying the Cheesecake and if your curious its $45 a slice and both your wallet and your stomach are going to feel it if you get it. Simply watching my step mother looking at the menu in a high class restaurant is tell tale obvious. You can tell she likes it by the way she tries model her mannerisms the same way the high level business people are. Putting her salad fork and butter knife in the same places they do. Yes that actually does mean something in a true high class restaurant. It can mean the difference to the waiter like service and food are great or downright horrible. If you have ever heard the old sang sang “never piss off the guy who is cooking your food”. Well in a restaurant like these something that simple like where you just put your fork on the entrée can mean the difference between you ending up over the toilet tonight and getting desert free. So for her trying to look very professional while cutting her steak is like fighting her stomachs reaction to not let her eye balls get as wide as wiley coyote watching the road runner. Rather then every other business person here who appears to be an emotionless robot.

As for my dad I would strongly suggest not watching what he eats but how he eats. My dad is a Vietnam war veteran. Yes his dietary habits now, started in the navy. Coming out of high school my dad was not going to college. Not to make matters worse my dad’s draft number was 3. So for him it quickly became a matter of enlist of and choose where to go and what to do or be drafted and have the military choose for you. So he enlisted in the navy and would go on to become a MedaVac flight medic. Since they were constantly on going rescuing fellow soldiers they had to be ready to go in a moments notice. Therefore he obtained a habit of eating everything he could at one point in time because that might be his last chance to eat for the rest of the day. According to him he would get about one large meal a day usually would not eat again for another 27 hours or so. By large meal though I mean take breakfast, dinner, and small snack size proportions for a 20 year old 6 foot 4 and two hundred and ten pound guy. Though that’s one meal, even my stomach feels a little sick thinking about all of that food at once. But then again I guess you learn to deal with it. Today though my dad does not eat quite that much specifically at once thank god.

Then there is my brother Michael. If he could take a pill that has all the nutrients, proteins and such that you need to stay alive. He would buy out the store. Michael is a computer freak an IT guy so to speak. There is a reason why he works at best buy on the geek squad. Its actually quite amazing because he can pull that horrible look off. Michael will eat anything he can swallow quickly and easily to get back to one thing his computer. Micheal loves the quick, and simple meals aka Stouffers, Marie Calenders, Hungry Man, Lean Cusine. Surprisingly he actually has the time need to cook each entrée made by Stouffers memorized. All to allow him to get back to his computer. Im starting to think we need to find a way to feed the computer and then it can somehow feed him. Then he would not have to drag his geek butt down the stairs to use the microwave.

Maybe you knew or where the kid growing up that could not have each food item touch any other. That is my step sister Rachel, today at 17 years old. Rachel truly does not care what she is eating. In her words “its all about the presentation”. She is like the suburban Midwest Jersey Shore all in one package. She will only eat if it looks good. Virtually my opposite in that sense. So if want to know how good you really are at cooking just ask her. She will tell you.

For me though well I have earned the reputation in my family of being a human garbage disposal. To me I truly do not care what I am eating. I have sort of the mix of eating habits and or abilities if want you to put it that way of everyone in my family. Like Laurie I love gourmet food come on who doesn’t. Like my dad I can eat quite a staggering amount in a short time. Similar to Michael I eat very quickly though I did not use to be. Though I always eat more at nicer restaurants than cheaper ones. In Rachel’s words “it’s all about the presentation” therefore why I eat more. Though what I hold different is my outerspace high level metabolism. As a matter of fact my doctor nearly gave me a drug to slow my metabolism rate down so my body would absorb more food. Well I didn’t get the drug though because apparently there were two components of the drug which were also used in performance enhancing drugs. At that time I was on my high school boys golf team in my freshman year playing varsity and after six tournaments I was number two on the team. So I was not exactly in a position to take anything that could be seen as performance enhancing afterall not many freshman golfers start their high school golf career on varsity. So I would continue all through high school and not gain any real weight. For example I started my freshman year at 5’8” and 140. I would exit as a Senior being 6’2” and 150.

When I look at each person in my family I can see how what they are eating as well as how they can have a major impression as to who they are. Before this i did not really understand how good much what your eating or what someone else is eating can have such a big effect on them. Now if you will excuse me the 12 ounce steak I had apparently has only made me more hungry so I need to find something to eat. Remember watch what you eat, not for our health but for someone else’s judgment of you.

Red Velvet-Final Draft, Thomas Herron


It started last year at Holiday Lanes, my team and another were competing against each other to win four rounds of bowling. We were all having a good time getting strikes, leaving open frames, picking up or missing the occasional split when the other team announced the birthday of one of their team mates. There was no singing, however they did bring a small round cake covered in white icing. After each of them had taken a piece they invited up to have some cake as well. The cake was a red velvet cake from King Soopers. When I tasted it I noticed that it had a hint coffee flavor in it and I knew then that I had to try and duplicate it. We finished the four rounds of bowling, thanked them for the cake and good time, and went home.

After that night I started looking for recipes to make red velvet cake. Before I found a recipe I though it would be hard, especially since the original red velvet recipes I heard used beet juice to to get the red coloring. That was until I found it was simply adding one to three table spoons of red food coloring to a buttermilk layer cake recipe.

Satisfied with the recipe that I had found I set off to King Soopers to gather the ingredients I needed to bake a cake. I probably spent an hour wandering the store looking for everything I needed. To my surprise, King Soopers does not carry cake flour, the store had many different brands of all-purpose and bread flour, however the cake flour I wanted was no where to be found. Disappointed because I had wasted at least half an hour scouring the shelves I left the baking aisle to gathering the rest of the ingredients. The rest of the ingreadients need were easy to find and only took me about 15 minutes to gather.

Once I got home, my next task was to clean up the kitchen because my parents never clean up after their own cooking. With the kitchen finally clean I set about measuring and mixing, I used regular all-purpose flour instead and hoped for the best. I some how thought I could make two round double layer cakes from the same batch, even though I only had two cake pans which resulted in me making two large round single layer cakes instead of two smaller double layers. The icing was perhaps the simplest though prehaps the messiest part of my project; a simple cream cheese icing made from one pound of powdered sugar and 16 ounces of cream cheese. Needless to say there was powdered sugar everywhere by the time I was finished. Once the cakes had cooled enough I spread the icing, wrapped them up, and I made sure the kitchen was spotless when I was done.

The following weekend I went to my grandfathers for a family dinner and I felt it was perfect opportunity to get an outside opinion on my baking skills. I had already tried a piece of my cake and I felt it tasted fine, however they say that it always tastes better when you make it yourself so I wanted someone elses opinion. Everyone there said the cake tasted fine if a little dense. I wasn't disappointed, it was after the first cake I had ever made from scratch.

Since my first attempt at cake baking I've learned that corn starch can be used to make a substitute cake flour and my cakes have gotten better in both texture and flavor. I've dabbled in baking chocolate cake as well as a strange recipe called Tomato Soup cake which uses a can of condensed tomato soup, both turned out nicely. My parents have suggested I take up a cooking degree however I don't think I would enjoy cooking as much if I did. While I might never take my baking to a professional level, I do have some advice for those who might; keep the egg beater on low while you add the powdered sugar.