First off, I hate my dishwasher. Do any of you have a dishwasher that is worth a shit? I never, ever have had a dishwasher that cleans the way it should, and am currently saddled with a gem so ineffective that (and I’m not making this up) if I insert a set of CLEAN dishes and run it, they end up dirty. The dishwasher actually invents dirt, and then distributes it to my dishes, leaving crust and grime on the inside of all of my glasses. And then I have to hand wash them to get them as clean as they were in the first place. I have had a repairman sent by the property management company look at it, and he pretty much shrugged and sent me a bill. And the thing is BRAND NEW. Thanks for that, Mr. Repairman. I’ll assume that you have spent your time being BFF with John McCain and not reading up on how appliances work.
And how come when I told him how I can put tea leaves into the garbage disposal, and then the next load I run in the dishwasher will deposit tea leaves into my glasses, he acted like this was a totally normal thing, and not an abomination?? Okay, rant over. The bottom line is that Chris and I have had enough of hearing one of us unloading the dishwasher calmly, singing cheerful and traditional songs that have had the lyrics altered to dirty words, only to hear that peaceful sound interrupted by the clatter of a pan hitting the counter and the person doing the unloading screaming “MOTHER OF ASS!!!!!!!” So we’re buying a new dishwasher. And while the Miele is a real panty-dropper, it’s also a bazillionty dollars, and we’re trying to limit our income choices to things that don’t require anal violation.
On a brighter note, Chris and I made sushi and summer rolls, and they were right purty. These are pictures that had been taken with the camera that Chris smuggled out of the allergy clinic for one weekend of joyous, high-resolution picture taking. Thus the superior quality of the recent pics, in contrast to my tradition of mediocrity. An aside: if any of you have a recommendation on a good, professional-quality digital camera, that’s also a thing we’re eyeballing pretty heavily.
I grew up hating fish because my mom hates fish. I still hate fish with a passion. Shellfish, ocean fish, fish caught from the icy, fresh streams of the Rocky Mountains–I hate it all. But in a bid to impress Chris when we were first dating, I agreed to try a piece of tuna roll. I was hoping that I would look cosmopolitan and adventurous, and also not like a girl who was eating Skittles out of her pocket every time he got up to go to the bathroom or looked intently at his menu. I tentatively forked a piece of rice, and it was good. I then speared a molecule of the raw tuna. It was fresh, clean, sweet and tasted almost like a fresh melon. I was intrigued. But seaweed? No Effing Thank You. Ugh. Nigiri was the solution, and it is still a huge treat for me. Pretty much anything that I have to pay $22/lb for when it’s ON SALE is a treat for me. Chris is the official nigiri assembler.
I love this picture. It’s one of a few that pushed us over the edge into serious camera lust. Those grains of sticky rice just seem to jump out at you, yelling “get me out from underneath this girl! She’s like a dead fish!”
These are summer rolls with cucumber, mirin-marinated tofu (sorry, Mike), carrot, scallion, and bean threads. We dipped them in some Thai sweet chili sauce. I care deeply for Thai sweet chili sauce. It goes back to the first time I had it. I was at an upscale bistro in Fort Collins, CO that had deep-fried artichoke hearts on the menu. I felt pretty strongly that I would be eating those artichokes. I then saw that the dippin’ sauce was “aioli.” I know what that means; it means mayonnaise. I won’t be fooled! So I requested another choice, and the chef proffered the sweet chili sauce. Shebang. It really cupped the balls, so to speak.