Dragon Tattoo a la Hollywood

I had a bit of a grand debate with myself yesterday whether or not to go downstairs and watch The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo at Astro Theater. After all, this is one of my all time favorite books ever and I wasn't too keen on witnessing how it would get desecrated Hollywood style. A movie is a medium totally different from a book no matter how you look at it. I mean if I say that the movie tried to be true to the book (it wasn't really)  that may not mean a good thing. Like Steig Larsson effectively managed to weave a story that makes you struggle with the first how many chapters in a slow, dragging uphill climb and then suddenly  you find yourself being pushed at the edge of the peak and you roll full speed you don't even know what hit you. It's true that pictures can paint a thousand words but there are times when only words can define, paint and create a story that you can't quite capture in (moving) pictures. That's why I love movies and I love books but as two separate media..I have never been a big fan of seeing a beloved book being made into film. And that's why I had a lot of misgivings about watching Dragon Tattoo. But last night I was still recovering from my holiday binge and I was happily being a bum, browsing through the year end special issue of People Magazine and I chanced upon some positive reviews on Rooney Mara's (as Lisbeth Salander) acting and I took that as a sign that I should go downstairs and watch the movie. If anything, it would only mean a $12 and 2h40min worth of regret and I talked myself into believing that I am after the entertainment value and I should not even attempt to make any comparison to the book. So 20 minutes before screening time I managed to drag myself out of the apartment, bought a ticket and consoled my anti film version other self with a large bag of popcorn and pepperoni stick.


First of all, Mr. Larsson, in all three books he wrote before his too untimely demise, never aimed to entertain but he seemed to be more concerned about making sure you are uncomfortably shifting in your seats and feeling disturbed while reading about the series of unfortunate events that befell the hapless, unlikely, atypical heroine that is Lisbeth Salander before finally providing a sense of vindication at the very few last pages of the last book. Which is a little too late for some of us who have already been consumed by all the darkness, injustice, perversion and what nots of the first two books and at least 90% of the last one. And with the way he tried to paint a picture of corruption and evil in a seemingly perfect Swedish system, your now paranoid self would even go as far as thinking maybe Larsson didn't die of a heart attack, maybe there was some foul play there since he was ruffling a few political feathers. That's why I came to love his The Girl..Trilogy, it sucks you like a whirlpool into it's pages, no matter how the first how many chapter drags, it moves you, it disturbs you and in the end it's one of those rare books that makes you want to do a standing ovation and cheer. And I think it was mainly due to how Steig Larsson chose how and when to slowly build characters, plots and background, when to suddenly go for the kill. To capture all these in film would be such a tall, tall order so as expected, the movie version failed in this aspect. To their credit though, the producers seem to respect the fact  that the author didn't really aim to entertain so they also tried to tone down on the drama, shock value, cliche or other Hollywood-ish formula and even managed to succeed in creating a dark, somber, disturbing mood.


The casting was perfect. And I am especially referring to Rooney Mara. If anything, she did give justice to the role although at times she's doing it too perfectly that you can feel her all too conscious effort to "be like" Lisbeth as opposed to "being" Lisbeth. I don't know how to explain this one but sometimes it felt like watching a two hours or so character interpretation monologue rather than watching a movie. But she's the perfect Lisbeth, I can't think of anybody else who can pull that one off. Thank God they didn't get Lindsay Lohan or Kristen Stewart. The rest of the cast were good too except that it's Hollywood so it's like one grand musical chair or recycling event so at some point I was half expecting Christopher Plummer to burst into song and sing "I go to the hills when my heart is lonely" or for Robin Wright to scream, "run Forrest run"! or yes for Daniel Craig to reveal that he is actually "Bond. James Bond".


It's hard to reconcile the book in two hours something worth of film so of course it can't entirely remain faithful to the print version, that's forgivable and expected - especially if you promised yourself not to judge the movie by it's book version. I just wished more emphasis was placed on demonstrating Lisbeth's genius methods for hacking computers (the way it was described in the book) because it was really a fun part of the story that I thought Hollywood would have wanted to magnify. And of course you really have to read the book so that you won't assume that the movie was just an excuse to advertise Apple and McDonald products. Unlike in Filipino movies, out of nowhere the leading man would have a headache and a well meaning supporting character will give him a certain brand of acetamenophen and proclaim it to be most effective for headache. Of course everybody in the audience know that the leading man is in real life an endorser for this brand of drug. How and why they resort to that kind of lame advertising psychology never fails to baffle me and annoys me like anything. Anyway, back to the Dragon Tattoo. I didn't like their version of how the Harriet thing was finally resolved but since I didn't provide a spoiler alert at the beginning of this post, that's all I can say about that one. Though I don't think the one or two faithful readers of my blog would mind (referring to mother and a friend I love to harass to read or else). I also thought it was weird watching Michael Blomkvist (Craig) being tortured to the ironically benign, light and breezy tune of Enya's Orinico Flow. I don't think I can listen to that song in the same way again! I don't remember that happening in the book though, maybe I should read it again. Or that part at least. And just in case there are Steig Larsson fans who happen to stumble into this post, go ahead and watch the movie but with no great expectations.

Hot Soup

I know I know. Post Christmas is the worst time to even mention food. Not while everybody's nursing a bad hang over or trying to get rid of the ham, turkey, fruitcake or other holiday foot aftertaste from their mouth. But I will talk about food nevertheless. I promise though that this is about the perfect antidote to all the fatty or sweet stuff we've been pigging out on for the last  couple of days.


So I wanted to eat something today that would neutralize the holiday fats, sugar, sauce/gravy, salt accumulation in my system. And I thought about making sinigang again..inspired by my successful first attempt a few days ago. Sinigang is a popular Filipino sour soup (usually tamarind based) and pretty much the same way you can adobo anything, you can also sinigang anything! Today I decided to go for salmon because I am out of chicken and pork and I am too lazy to go to the grocery store. To hear me talk or write about this you'd think I invented the sinigang! Actually I am just feeling a little smug about finally being initiated into the art of Filipino cooking. At 39 at that! When everybody else learned this from their mothers, grandmothers etc from when they were as young as 7! And of course I have to go the extreme end of the pole for this to finally happen! Anyway, let's go back to my to die for salmon sinigang.


I have all my support groups online to help motivate me or teach me how to cook so I turn to them like a drowning person clings to a lifesaver. For my sinigang today I decided to ambush my sister in law in Sweden..as soon as I saw her online (after she clicked "like" to one of my posts) I called her via Face Time and bombarded her with questions that would have evoked a lot of eyeball rolling and litany of "are-you-kidding-me" from other people who aren't family .. but my sister in law, God bless her, answered with a lot of enthusiasm and excitement that motivated me to make my perfect Salmon sinigang. So I took all her tips and instructions to heart and planned on a little "modification".


A backgrounder on the "modification". People who know me well know that I am notorious for having a very, very high tolerance for hot and spicy. My preference for hot(ter) and spicy(-ier) is not something I am particularly proud of since I have seen how it can either elicit some unwanted innuendos or cause people to ask really, really personal questions like if I have hemorrhoids already from eating all these spicy food..and I can really get defensive by enumerating all the medical benefits of eating hot and spicy. So again for my sinigang today, I planned to really make it hot..after all I am cooking just for one so I don't have to worry about taking anybody's hot and spicy meter into consideration. 


I am not the ultimate chef (yet) so my supply for ingredients are limited to stuff I can actually identify and spell but I do have different kinds of pepper and chili in my limited supply because I categorize them under food basics - so I have cayenne, crushed chili, chili powder, cayenne pepper sauce, long green chilis, jalapeno etc and the usual pepper (black, peppercorn). I used to swear by Tabasco and would add tabasco on anything but now it tastes like water to me. Not hot enough. And then a couple of days ago I was introduced to the ultimate form of chili powder that made everything else look and taste like placebo. I attended the first of two Christmas eve dinners I was invited to. This was at my neighbor downstairs. Turned out they were also hardcore hot and spicy fans. My neighbor is a Filipina living with her Canadian boyfriend and the Canadian boyfriend made this amazingly delicious, hot and spicy (my level of hot and spicy so it's actually deadly for everyone else) pork sisig (a favorite Filipino beer match). It was hands down one of the best sisig I've ever had! I guess they were watching me devour the sisig without even pausing to wipe a tear or soak my tongue with whatever I was drinking - so this was proof enough for them to believe me when I say I love hot and spicy and I am not just saying it to please my host! It was like passing a sort of test I guess. So my prize for that night was that they gave me a bottle of something called Bhut Jolokia Powder 100% pure and they said it is the hottest chili ever and made me sprinkle a little on my fingers so I can taste how hot it is..they were amused when I had to sprinkle twice before I can agree that well, it's hot. But then I drank two glasses of wine before that so it might have masked how hot the powder really was because I woke up the next morning with the tiniest hint of mouth sore right were the powder landed.


And that's the little backgrounder to my sinigang..I grabbed several long green chilis and sprinkled a hint of the Bhut Jolokia powder  and added these  with the sinigang mix, lime juice, tomatoes, onions, radish, greens that I used for the salmon sinigang.

While waiting for my sinigang to cook I googled on Bhut Jolokia powder and this is what I discovered:


The Bhut Jolokia, or Ghost Chile, so named for its ghostly bite, is the hottest chile pepper in the world. Also known as the Naga Jolokia and Bih Jolokia, or poison chile pepper. The Bhut Jolokia is twice as hot as the Red Savina Habanero and has a slightly smoky flavor. Imported from India.


                                                                                  - Firehouse Pantry Store

Well that was more than enough to "fire" up my excitement for the soup I was making and I was pleased beyond anything that I now have in my possession the hottest chili pepper in the world! My neighbor told me that this was more potent than pepper spray and I realized that's no exaggeration! So that means I can use it for self defense as well, in case there's a break in or something. 


The verdict? I was in food heaven with my comfort soup. I love how it warms the heart and satisfy my chili-specific taste buds. I am glad I added more than the usual amount of lime juice because the sourness of the soup was in perfect harmony with the hotness of the chili and the mildness of the salmon. Of course I might sound like I am bringing my smugness to a higher level by singing praises to my own creation but I am happy with my sinigang. And happier because I am now armed with this bhut jolokia powder!

A breather and time out from 1Q84

I read for different reasons. Sometimes it's because I want to unwind and escape from either a too sad or too drab reality. Sometimes it's to stimulate my senses by watching how words are joined together like patchwork quilts to create a picture, an image, a thought. Sometimes it's merely just to lull myself to sleep. Once in awhile, however, I would chance upon a book that transports me to another reality that's more unsettling and disconcerting than the one I am already in, that while it stimulates my senses - the effect is not that of a happy or fluffy feeling one gets from gazing at a patchwork quilt and it hardly puts me to sleep..and if it does, I'd end up having disturbing dreams. 1Q84 is that kind of book.


I may be one of the last few people in the planet to hear about Haruki Murakami and now I am beginning to understand why he has an almost cult-like following. If anything, I am this close to becoming a convert. I am still halfway through reading the book and one of the reviews did warn that it is a long 900++ pages novel. But it's one of those long novels that pulls me in two different directions. A part of me is dying to know how the story would end and yet there is this other part that, for the last few days, has become accustomed to the hypnotic, seductive, mesmerizing power of the book - like a drug with psychedelic or hallucinogenic  effect...that I don't want the book to end at all..if only to maintain that strange high. Rarely a book has the power to suck me into it's pages that I am actually given the idea of how it must feel to cross a parallel dimension or a very e=mc2-ish sort of alternate reality..especially since I now live in an out of  this world environment up north..in between reading the book, when I find myself gazing out of the window, I half expect to find two moons like the ones mentioned in the story. While I did say it is a mesmerizing read, I can't seem to finish the book soon enough. Sometimes when I am in a chapter or in a scene that is much too intense, I will myself to stop reading and start doing some mundane things that can remind me where my reality begins and 1Q84 ends - so I would wash the dishes, visit Facebook, write emails, feed myself..and with my reality well defined, I shut myself off from everything else and open my iPad's ebook app and start reading again.


I want to talk about intensity because I did say something about some chapters getting too intense. I've always felt that I am a person least qualified to give any form of book reviews. I have no technical know hows on form, style or writing technique. It's either I like a book or I don't but I don't feel the need to explain why..simply because I am not in the position to provide credible critique. This time, however, I will make a feeble attempt to discuss this particular book if only to detoxify and decongest my mind and spirit from it's overwhelming effect on me before I immerse myself further into reading and ultimately finishing it. Murakami is a Japanese author and the English translation of 1Q84 was released late this year. I am not an expert in Japanese culture or psychology but I've always found the Japanese to have this certain restraint and discipline on the surface that effectively masks whatever turbulence that lies beneath. In whatever structure (food, buildings, technology, words), they seem to have a penchant for projecting minimalism even if in that minimalist form there is actually a certain, unexpected heaviness. When I find it hard to explain something sometimes I tend to use too many words. It's hard to start on this premise because it's not easy to explain. But then as Murakami wrote, "if you can't understand without explanation then you won't understand with explanation"... so I am hoping that anyone who has ever watched a Japanese movie or attempted to dissect a haiku or even appreciated the elaborate simplicity of Japanese food would know where I am coming from. The mesmerizing power of 1Q84 does not come from any fast paced action, dramatic dialogues or colorful plots that's all too commonly seen in books written by Western authors. It's the quiet restraint of everything in the story - choice of words, pacing, characters' personalities that gives the readers the feeling that there is something ominous about the calmness and the stillness, something disturbing about the paucity of emotions from the characters (including a female lead who is incapable of using question marks!). To capture one's attention, you either create a lot of noise or in a quiet stillness you hold one's gaze and hypnotize. The book does the latter. And so far, speaking for myself, it has been very, very effective. For those who agree that Japanese or Korean horror movies although not as graphic and loud as their American counterparts are downright scarier, you would know what I mean.


These days, before I would buy a book or e-book, I tend to read the reviews first. This is mainly for my own economic and logistics justification. Interesting enough, those who were disappointed with this book happen to be hardcore Murakami fans. Most of them declared that his previous works were much better, 1Q84 just received more hype and attention based on the merits of the author's past efforts. As a novice, this didn't stop me from choosing 1Q84 as my initiation to the world and mind of Murakami. And I have no regrets. I have not finished the book yet but I have already downloaded two of his past works, the highly acclaimed Wind Up Bird Chronicle and at the risk of being accused of judging a book by it's cover or title, I also downloaded Norwegian Wood - mainly because it is the title of my favorite Beatles song (from where I got the name of this blog. Serendipity, eh?). Suffice it to say that it is totally inaccurate for me to declare that I am this close to becoming a convert of his cult-ish following, I believe I already am!


Having gotten that out of my chest, I will end this post and cross that parallel dimension that will take me back to 1Q84.

Steak

I am a happy carnivore. While I have deep respect for all forms of life, I also happen to know where I rank in the food chain. And I definitely relish my spot at the top. I realize the value of greens in a healthy diet and while I ingest these edible plants to sustain my needs at a cellular level, vegetables do not give me the same intense sense of satisfaction and gratification that I get from meat. When I was having one of my seasonal quest for losing unwanted pounds early this year, I was thrilled beyond anything when a new, popular diet endorsed by no less than a duchess' mother, called for unlimited consumption of most proteins - specifically beef, chicken and fish..and I wholeheartedly embraced this diet not just because it promised weight loss but more because it allowed me to eat meat. 


One of the many things that I appreciate about living in an arctic region is that this is a place where one of man's oldest instincts - hunting for survival is preserved. And when a hunter hunts his prey it's not to live out a violent game or killing for thrill. It's meant for the survival of a specie. Ours. A few months ago, I read a novel partly set somewhere in Alaska and there was a part that dealt a little bit about seal hunting..that seals know their purpose is to be hunted, killed and ultimately be fed to humans but it was a process that was done with great respect from the part of the humans that part of the ritual of killing seals is to get their bladder and throw it to the ocean to symbolize the release of their souls. I am not sure if I am retelling that accurately but my point is, with that kind of perspective on hunting for survival and eating meat, the arctic then is one of the best places to be a carnivore.


Today is Sunday. I was planning that after hearing mass I would take a leisurely walk and head off to the restaurant at Nova Inn because I heard that food was good there..and there where some items in the menu that I wanted to try like whale blubber and caribou salad. And after eating I was also planning to do more walking and go to Northmart to buy groceries. It was a little bit windy when I stepped out of the chapel and it made me rethink if walking would be a good idea. Fortunately, one of the Filipinos in church was also going to Northmart and offered me a ride. So I decided to put my plans for going to Nova on hold for now and just went straight to Northmart. This turned out to be a good move since I found out that they actually sell beef, chicken and fish there that does not necessarily move my wallet to tears.


And that's how I came to decide that today I was going to make steak. My friend in the US sent me some seasoning called Vegeta and she said it's a good sprinkle to add to steak rub. Since I got here I have used this Vegeta on most anything I make..from omelette to baked chicken but I have been dying to use it for steak using the recipe and technique that my friend's husband taught me. Until today, I have been buying groceries at Arctic Ventures and supply for meat, chicken and fish was limited and expensive. Happily, this was not the case at Northmart so I got to buy my (hopefully) one week's supply of chicken, fish (salmon) and of course beef I can use for making steak.


I was shaking with excitement when I got home and got all my ingredients ready. I didn't want any tinge of guilt cloud my ascent to meat heaven so for side dish I decided to saute some vegetables that I actually like (asparagus and mushroom) and I promised myself I will only have oatmeal for dinner. Now I am the kind of person who's got very selective retention for information and instruction. If it's something I am not interested in, no matter how important or crucial it is for me to retain the information - chances are I would forget. But if it's something I am passionate about no matter how trivial or unnecessary the data, I would store and super glue it to memory. So when I was visiting my friend a few months ago and her husband (who makes the best steak ever) gave me some pointers on how to make delicious steak, I had his instructions etched on my brain and it's now permanently tattooed there somewhere in my cerebral cortex. I watched and remembered how he did it, it's now a movie I can replay in my mind at will for future reference. And the bonus of course was that my friend was kind enough to send me that miracle seasoning that her husband uses for his steak.


Save for that few minutes when the smoke detector alarm went into frenzy, my first attempt at making steak here in Iqaluit is, I should say with all honesty and modesty, a hands down success! I followed all the dos and don'ts my friend's husband taught me..how long to cook it if I like it medium (and I like it medium, never ever over done - part of the thrill in eating steak for me is sucking the juice out from the tender meat), to never poke it with a fork or anything sharp just to check if it's done and to let it stand for a few minutes before slicing to trap the heat and juice and allow it to go towards the core of the meat - - I took all the minute details to heart and for that I was rewarded with a delicious, juicy, tender, melt in your mouth home cooked steak! Yes indeed, I am a happy carnivore!


Even if I wanted to devour it right away like a hungry hunter, I had to remind myself to let it stand for a few minutes. Patience is a virtue and I got my just reward!

Of course I made some effort to create balance, thus the mushroom and asparagus.

Unhappy Feet. Immortal Fail.

I was planning to watch Happy Feet 2 last night and ended up getting a little bit dismayed that the screening time was at 7PM and they were showing J Edgar and Immortals at 9PM. If I paid any attention at all I would have realized that the one and only movie house here have two theaters and two screening times (7 and 9) and there may be two different movies for each screening time. But this is what I get for assuming that I got it all figured out. After all the effort of getting dressed and going downstairs, I decided to watch a movie anyway. I didn't want to watch anything too heavy or serious or that would require my brain to be turned on.  So I chose to watch Immortals. Now there are very few things in life that I ever regret doing and watching Immortals just found its way to that very short elite list. 


First of all, I am not a huge fan of unnecessary gore and violence in cinema and this movie was just 110 minutes worth of butchering and slaughtering spree. It made Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th and that C-section scene from Breaking Dawn look like Disney movies. It started promising enough with a Socrates quote and I thought since it has something to do with Greek mythology there would be some well founded plot. I waited for 109 minutes and found none. So I just sat there and watched tongues being cut off, human flesh, muscles and bones turned to ground meat, necks being slit, beheading galore and hope that somehow a justifiable story would surface from all the bloodshed. And I had to watch all these in unnecessary 3D. Before anybody can accuse me of being a queasy kill joy or prudish bore, let it be known that I enjoyed watching Drag Me To Hell and Inglorious Basterds.


At some point when I thought I have already become immune to all the graphic, computer generated gore and stopped flinching from the sight of blood, muscles and heads flying all over the place, I started to feel nauseous, with an intense desire to gag and grab a barf bag . . even if it means grabbing a bag of popcorn from somebody in the audience (good thing I didn't waste any money on popcorn last night). But this time it wasn't because of the macabre violence of the film but more on how the story was developing, the dialogues that can make your eyeballs roll with such intensity it can induce seizures and the way the actors take extra effort to act like the Greek statues featured in the movie (read: cold and lifeless). Well, Mickey Rourke, who played the overacting evil King Hyperion, did overcompensate for all (and I mean all) his co actors' lackluster performances. I think it was only when some character gets killed and blood is spilled that you realize that wow there was life there after all (but then it's too late)..Every time Henry Cavill (Theseus) was on screen I found myself saying, please don't let him be Superman. But unfortunately, he is going to play the part of the beloved super hero. Thus giving a whole new meaning to "man of steel". Half of the time I cannot understand a word he was saying but it was not really a big deal because most of the dialogues do not really have any relevance to the unfolding of the story. So he was like, mumble, mumble, kill, kill, blood and more blood. I almost reached my seizure threshold when prior to the big battle scene,Theseus delivered that highly formulaic pre battle Brave Heart inspired speech in front of an army who don't even know who in Zeus name he was. When he was shouting to the men to listen to him, one of the soldiers shouted back, "who are you that we should listen to you"? Which was actually a good and valid question. Anyway, he was able to calm this panicky, chaotic army by telling them to "think of their children, think of their future" and all other recycled words of motivation every leader of the army delivered to their men prior to every battle scene in all battle movies (where was the army leader anyway?) when there was never any indication in any part of the film that this was an army of daddies going to war for the sake of their kids and some unforeseen bright future since from beginning to end they just portrayed themselves to be a bunch of blood and meat thirsty men! Unless I did go into a seizure and missed that part. I can't help myself but I actually laughed out loud during this part of the film. And when the king from Theseus' company with a cameo appearance of two minutes told an approaching King Hyperion "We can negotiate" with all the dryness of a beef jerky and the evil Hyperion just kept walking and cut the poor king's head off I had to decide whether to waste my energy on a chuckle or roll my eyeballs or just sit still. I sat still. The film was approaching climax so maybe the worst was yet to come.


Even Thesius' finding of the highly coveted Epirus Bow did nothing to help the film take a turn of any relevance or significance. In fact he keeps dropping or misplacing the bow! I would have found it hilarious if I wasn't so annoyed. Ok so that bit of klutziness was necessary so that the bow can land in Hyperion's hands so he can free the Titans. But still. Anyway, there were a few dialogues here and there inserted in between all the killings, butchering and blood fest so maybe there was really a story unfolding somewhere. In the spirit of fairness, nobody was spared from getting their hands bloodied and their jugular veins dissected, even the supposedly immortal gods. Jupiter was killed by daddy Zeus (again unnecessarily) and Athena ended up with this perfectly vertical slit on her neck you are tempted to insert a tracheostomy tube on it to keep her alive (by life, of course, I am referring to her lifeless acting not to that actual scene where she was dying. To quote a line from another movie, the title of which escapes me now, "how can she die, she didn't even live"). Maybe it's because she was a goddess she was still able to deliver a very clear dying speech (clearer than a very much alive Theseus' monologue) to her grieving father Zeus even if the sword went straight to her vocal cords. To the mothers out there, if your kids tell you they want to see this movie for Greek mythology appreciation, don't let them. This is about as Greek mythology as Dora the Explorer is Latin Literature.


Another annoying and unnecessary part of the film was Freida Pinto's presence (as the virgin oracle). I'm still debating whether to even discuss her role at all. Okay I will. Her vision of Theseus' future was supposedly a crucial aspect of the story but again it did little to string or sew together a plot that was all over the bloody (literally!) place. Well it did serve as an icebreaker so that she and Theseus can make chitchat, let sparks fly and provide a love angle to the story. And speaking of sparks between Theseus and Phaedra (Pinto) . . well actually, there was none. The romance part was so fleeting, irrelevant and devoid of any chemistry that if you so much as blinked you would have missed it and would wonder in the end why all of a sudden this narrator is saying that there's this kid who's the son of Theseus. I think Freida Pinto's character was just inserted in the film to neutralize the testosterone overload with a little estrogenic presence. It didn't help.


My favorite part of the film was when it finally ended. Maybe I am just bitter because I had to watch this instead of Happy Feet but I was not too happy with Immortals. If I was not too disturbed by all that blood and gore I would have laughed at the silly premise of the film. But then again I got what I wanted - nothing serious and no brain required. So I should stop complaining then, eh?

Kitchen Confidential

There are only a few times in my life that I am proud enough to show off the product of my highly deficient culinary skills. And I know that since I got here I have insisted on justifying the merits of instant meals, eating out or take outs as valid methods of arctic survival. But there comes a time when I need to confront the truth that I have to hone some domestic skills in order to get by. And cooking tops the list. I was at Arctic Ventures today, just before sunset (which is just before 2PM) and as I was wandering aimlesssly at the canned goods and instant noodles aisles, I said to myself..enough is enough (though I did get a couple of Campbell's soup) it is time for me to grow up and get domesticated. I can only hope that at 39 it's not too late to have that kind of epiphany. So I headed straight to the fish/meat/poultry and vegetable section..got some stuff that I can recognize and give a name to. My argument is that, if I have this intense passion for food..somewhere deep within me there must be a chef waiting to be born. And even if it's clear that this life development is only in it's embryonic state, I have willed it to be conceived. So that brings me to this moment. Proudly posting a specimen sample of what I can achieve in the kitchen. Even if it is just as simple as throwing fish, spices and vegetables together, wrap them in foil and bake them in the oven. This required some form of critical thinking and took more effort than just opening a packet, pour in boiling water and simmer for 3-5 minutes. It tasted good. I am happy. And proud. I am only glad that no husband or kids are involved or harmed in the unfolding of this life chapter.