Cookies!

Dig in!

My excuse for only having baked twice in the last six months in my New York apartment is, like many small kitchens in this big city, people store pots and pans inside the oven (even more likely when one has roommates). Hence, the laziness to get everything out and churn a goodie or two.

The other day, however, I realized how not big of a deal this is, for as long as the cookware is stacked in a certain way. I now recall an article from back in 2008 written by Mark Bittman of The New York Times, "So Your Kitchen Is Tiny. So What?" wherein he talked about his 7 x 6 ft. cooking space. "It has a moderate-size refrigerator, what was once considered a full-size stove (as opposed to the compact "apartment-size" stove or the monsters recently gaining popularity), annoyingly little counter and storage space (yes, I sometimes must remove the stored pots and pans before using the oven), and even a small dishwasher."

After having written the piece, Bittman received a flurry of emails questioning how someone like himself—an author of cookbooks and a columnist for the Times—could subsist on such modest square-footage.

"Interestingly, none of the queries, condolences, and commiserations came from women born before World War II, women (whom I often describe loosely if unfairly as “grandmothers”) who grew up learning how to cook from their grandmothers. They know that it’s fully possible to cook just about anything just about anywhere, with just about any equipment at hand."

Bittman further writes, "No calls came from chefs, either, or from fellow food writers. They, too, know that when it comes to kitchens, size and equipment don’t count nearly as much as devotion, passion, common sense and, of course, experience. To pretend otherwise—to spend tens of thousands of dollars or more on a kitchen before learning how to cook, as is sadly common—is to fall into the same kind of silly consumerism that leads people to believe that an expensive gym membership will get them into shape or the right bed will improve their sex life. As runners run and writers write, cooks cook, under pretty much any circumstance."

You can read the full article here.

Now, no matter where one lives—big kitchen, small kitchen, Mom's kitchen—perhaps the easiest thing one could whip up in an oven are chocolate chip cookies. They're ready in 30 minutes flat, or even less. I posted two recipes at AllMySugar.com. Tip: Halve either of the two recipes for a super-quick batch that makes about four dozen tiny cookies (use a tablespoon or a very small ice cream scoop to measure and distribute the dough evenly).

Last and definitely not the least, I've also finally blogged about my Milk Chocolate and Marshmallow Cornflake Cookies! As I've mentioned in this post, they're featured in the new book, One Big Table: A Portrait of American Cooking, written by former New York Times food columnist, Molly O'Neill. Talk about sweet and exciting!

Rich Friend, Poor Friend

"Champagne wishes and caviar dreams..."

I have a varied selection of friends: middle-class, rich, self-made, and those who get by with very little.

I think my ultra-rich friends like me and I get along with them just fine and enjoy their company because, for one, I don't pretend to be wealthy. And two, while I have a picky palate and have evolved in my tastes (becoming meticulous when it comes to manners in the process), I don't mask my middle-class quips like, "Is that caviar pie?" (and later on admit to myself that I actually do not like the taste of caviar pie) or "What does [any term rich people use] mean?" True, sometimes I am unnerved by the opulence of their lives (one friend has back-to-back flat-screen TVs in his Park Avenue apartment), but I enjoy learning about things like Fornasetti plates and luxe coffee machines.

As for my self-made friends, I love their company as well because we all, more or less, come from the same background; raised by middle-class, entrepreneurial/hardworking parents who happened to like fine things and read good books. We've put in the time to grow and nurture our careers and have become great friends along the way. We've also had our "poor" moments and we enjoy what we have these days and don't mind the treats and the splurges.

And, since I did not grow up rich, I have the money habits of the non-rich—meaning, my finances are not set up the way my wealthier friends' are, with their short- (wallet), medium- (wants), and long-term (nest egg) bank accounts. I find myself broke from time to time and exactly because of my upbringing, I do not worry much because I know that money is meant to be spent, and that one can earn it again and again.

Eating Well

I particularly enjoyed reading my friend Frances's recent blog post, "Market Day" wherein she talks about how one didn't have to have a lot of money in order to eat well. "I don't really buy into the excuse that poverty equals poor food and nutrition," she shares. "My grandmother lived through the terrible war and she taught me a lot of tricks on how to eat well even if you have just three ingredients." And, she's not talking about ramen noodles.

It's true what Frances said: You don't need plenty of cash to eat well. It's just easier if you did—because you don't have to be extra discerning about where you do your grocery shopping and the cost of food and its preparation. That's just about it. For example, instead of buying, washing, and processing your own produce and fruit, you can buy them pre-washed and pre-cut, usually in fancy plastic containers. If money weren't an object, you could hire a personal chef (just like a superstar), or order those healthy delivery meals—or even something as posh as the Blueprint Cleanse.

The reason why I could still afford to shop at specialty stores and wouldn't think twice about walking into Zabar's and the like—despite having limited funds at the moment—is because I also shop at Key Food in the Bronx and make it a point to buy from fruit stands. Now, if I were more liquid, I wouldn't probably go to three different places to get three different things (or go to Chinatown to buy a pound of fresh cherries), I would probably just do Freshdirect and order my organic eggs, milk and all online, and then pay for delivery costs.

While I do acknowledge the novelty of going through a ramen-noodles-phase—a rite of passage of sorts if you will—eventually, one must explore wiser food choices. It can actually be fun, and again, affordable. Notice that the more fresh produce you place in your shopping basket, the lower your bill is at the cashier. I get a kick out of this, actually.

Mmm...

Here, I've compiled a list of items that make the most out of your cash on hand. Call them staples, call them building blocks, bottomline is, you get value for your money and maximum benefits to your health. (And maybe, just maybe, you'll have some cash left for a delightful pint/tub of ice cream.)

A Bittersweet Holiday

One of the main reasons why I couldn't bring myself to blog over the holidays was because Jayden—my mother's neighbor's Golden Retriever—got hit by a truck the day before Christmas.

Now, Jayden was like our dog. John, the neighbor, happily shared him with us. We would bring him treats all the time and he would even wait outside Mom's kitchen door, anticipating another goodie.

The day before Christmas, we were all getting in the car when I noticed John and a friend carrying something heavy in a blanket. It first occurred to me how it looked like a dead body but I quickly brushed it off because why would someone do such a thing in broad daylight. I did point it out to Mom, who said the same thing I was thinking. As we were driving up the back alley to take out the trash, there we saw John and his friend, crouched in the backyard, crying over the blanket.

It was Jayden.

It was a big pick-up truck, and it happened really fast.

I never ever bawled and cried that much or that long in my life. We threw ourselves to the ground next to Jayden's body. It was surreal. He felt warm in the cold weather, but he lay flat, lifeless.

Sunnier, warmer times with Jayden.

The death of a beloved pet has a raw and gritty quality to it. Unlike humans wherein we are able to—albeit momentarily—mask, delay, and manage the pain via elaborate ceremonies before we bury our dead (that, alongside an unwavering faith in the afterlife), with pets, you face death right in the eye. (Do dogs go to heaven? It makes one ask these questions and want to believe even more in life after death). As in the case of Jayden, we sat next to him in the yard for more than an hour, bawling our eyes out; got inside the house; waited for John to gather more friends to help dig a hole; and when they were done, we went outside again to gather around as Jayden was laid to the ground. It was surreal, and it happened really fast.

True, over the last few days and weeks, new experiences have emerged, new memories have been formed—but I will always vividly remember that day.

Happy New Blog

Say hello to the newly made-over NyMinuteNow.com!

It's been almost two years since I last did a revamp over here. And, it's taken a long time to make up my mind about what template would fit the bill—something streamlined, straightforward, and featuring plenty of white space. That, and ideally, bug-free and easy to maintain. Thankfully, the folks at Blogger did a huge update on in-house templates a while back, so it's become enticing for Blogger-bloggers like myself to go back to using said templates. I did add the custom logo above, a result of tinkering with the Adobe Ideas app on the iPad, along with trusty 'ol Gimp on the netbook. The result: a happy new blog to welcome the exciting new year!