Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Dinner 11

Revising
I've gotten two bits of helpful feedback on this blog: a. include original recipes b. have more of a story. This week I attempted both of those things.

So, here is the back story for this week's dinner guest: Boy meets boy. Boys have several subdued dates. Boy can't figure out if other boy likes him or not. Boy awkwardly asks other boy and receives a confirmation, but then other boy is completely unavailable to hang out again. Boys stop talking to each other.
This was my dinner guest's favorite dish: Chickpea and Artichoke Salad. I used one can of chickpeas and one can of artichoke hearts then added Kalamata olives, sun dried tomatoes, dried cranberries, and goat cheese. Sprinkled with olive oil and Balsamic vinegar.

That back story was over a year ago and the boy was me and the other boy was my dinner guest. We started running into each other again, so I invited him. As was his usual style he agreed, but on the day of, postponed. He came the next day, but was totally late.

Narratives
Despite all the check minuses my guest had accumulated by the time he arrived, he was much more comfortable and conversational than in the past. Before, we almost exclusively talked about school (he studies architecture), but now he shared a lot about his life. He told me about his crazy weekend: an awkward blind date with a guy who "accidentally" missed the BART and had to spend the night even though my guest wasn't into him (if we're trying to make this blog a story, think of this element as foreshadowing), a dinner party with his cousin and a group of handsome older gays, bar hopping, a Vicodin trip, and an all day walk across the city. My guest took one bite of this Coconut Split Pea Soup and then rejected it (again, foreshadowing). Recipe follows blog entry.

We lapsed back into shop talk, but we found common ground through one of my favorite (and his) mediums: the music video. He was interested in the architectural and digital space of videos from directors like Sam Brown, while I was interested in the problem of limited narratives in all media and how the music video also has this problem but in some cases may disrupt it. I proposed this idea: there are only like three kinds of narrative in the world that are repeated over and over (ex: the hero's journey, a stranger comes to town, etc.) and that these limited amounts of narratives are why the world is falling apart (environment, politics, culture, you name it). The discussion went in many directions and we decided we should watch music videos in order to support our ideas with evidence. Greyhound Talapia with Spicy Couscous. My guest said he liked the fish (I thought it was kind of weird), but he put the salad on top in order to choke it down, so he couldn't have liked it that much. Recipe follows.

We spent a long time watching music videos, drinking wine, and chatting about narratives in my room. We tried to figure out if certain videos disrupted narrative or enhanced the narratives of songs. Or if the director imposed her own narrative on the song or what about videos that had no narrative at all? For dessert, I baked sweet potato wedges with cinnamon and brown sugar, topped them with frozen yogurt and drizzled them with my roommate's leftover raspberry sauce.

Attack of the CrotchBrain

So, there we were, sitting on my bed having a great conversation. And then I kissed my guest. And at first it was fine, he kissed back. But, he pulled away and made some vague excuse about being tipsy and needing to get home. Unfortunately, his bus didn't come for another 30 minutes, so we awkwardly chatted until he left.

The disappointing part of the whole ordeal is not the embarrassment of making a move and getting rejected (believe me, I'm used to rejection), but the fact that I made a move in the first place. That is not the point of this project. But somehow, my secret crotchbrain snuck up on me and helped me position my guest in such a way (wine, music, my room) that the move could be made. Where did my stomachheart go? Why did I try to force a narrative (the narrative of the two boys meeting and drifting off into the sunset)? Just like some music videos, a dinner can happen without some predictable outcome; it can just be a series of bites and ideas and songs. Despite the fact that there are limited kinds of narratives in books, movies, etc. doesn't mean that people are narratives. And we don't have to follow them. I'll try to stop following my crotchbrain and get back to my stomachheart.

Coconut Split Pea Soup

2 cups of dry split peas (I used half green and half yellow)

1 yellow onion

2 cloves garlic

3 tablespoons oil

2 carrots

1 bay leaf

2 kaffir lime leaves

1 vanilla bean

1 teaspoon thyme

1 teaspoon basil

1 chicken bouillon

salt and pepper to taste

1 can of coconut milk

6 cups water

Sautee the onions and garlic in oil. Add the split peas and 6 cups of water. Add the spices, bouillon, and carrots. Cook for 30 minutes until peas are soft and little liquid is left. Add the coconut milk and simmer for 10 more minutes.

Greyhound Talapia

4 Talapia fillets

Juice of 1 Grapefruit

2 tablespoons vodka

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 teaspoons dry basil

Combine the grapefruit juice, vodka, oil and basil. Pour over the Talapia and marinade for at least 3 hours. Place talapia and the rest of the marinade in a baking dish and bake for 15 minutes at 350 degrees. I added mushrooms and served it with quinoa with sprinkles of tumeric, cumin, and cayenne.