Resolution

I find myself wanting mostly to bitch about the discomforts of third trimester pregnancy, how I'm so ready to be past them, and how being in this place right now makes me feel a little lost in limbo.

She won't dictate my content, but she is dictating 
my cravings for the time being. 
This morning, I would like nothing better than some of 
this mushroom risotto with seared foie on top...

And I haven't been allowing myself to write about those things because it's almost like I think that would be a gateway when these next two months are over to allowing myself to write about how hard it is to function while sleep deprived, how many diapers I changed, how much baby gack I'm having to clean up, how many more trips to the laundromat that means for me...

Followed naturally by how I found this new breastfeeding position to hold Pod in so she doesn't pulverize my nips into hamburger, how these diapers really do keep her skin drier than those diapers, how I steamed and mashed my own peas and carrots, and how she ate them and loved them, and then how she gacked them up anyway, and how that necessitates yet more trips to the laundromat...

Which would then require that I write about how she finally cut a tooth yesterday, and how she refuses to say "mama" but drool-babbles "papa" all day long even though I'm the one whose nips she pulverized into hamburger, how stinky her first meat poops are, how she pet her first puppy today, and how she managed to stick her finger into an electrical socket while I was deadnapping on the couch because she woke me up at 2 in the morning wanting to play peekaboo or some shit like that...

In short, preggo fatigue aside, I haven't been writing because I'm afraid to become, you know, one of those.

I won't even say it here for fear I will turn into one.

Not that they don't serve a great purpose out here in the blogosphere.

Not that the temptation isn't sometimes very strong to tap into that very easily accessible stream of almost hourly autogenerating content.

And not that that I'm not going to be living that kind of stuff to a great extent for a good while to come and not that it won't inevitably manage to occasionally work its way into what I do write.

But just as I've managed to keep myself out of the driver's seat of a minivan for the past thirteen years since I first became a m****-type person, I very much intend to stay in the driver's seat of this blog, no matter how The Pod cries, whines, burps, fusses, gacks, begs, threatens and/or cajoles to take over the wheel.

Now if she bribes me with really good sushi, foie, and unlimited bubbly things to drink, all bets are off.

shinae

On Hatched Pods & Other Beginnings...

Today is May 2nd. The Pod is due July 17th. That's two and a half months from now.

And I have decided that when she springs forth as the fruit of my loins, I too will emerge from this five year cocoon I've managed to spin around myself, only allowing for the presence within it of those who were necessary to my metamorphosis, if you will - The Man, The Monsters, and to some degree, The Parents - together, my air, food, and water.

And I needed that.

Because it wasn't until I'd distanced myself that far and that completely from the life I lead for thirteen years that I was able to truly realize how ONE big decision undertaken in reaction, in escape, and without knowledge of self, can be the gateway to a long and winding series of more of the same kinds of decisions made in affirmation of the first, for dread of admitting the mistake it was.

It wasn't until then that I was able to realize that all the good intentions used to justify the furtherance of a bad idea don't make that bad idea any better.

The bad idea?

Marrying someone who was so wrong for me, and I for him, so I could leave the chaos of my parents' marriage in what I believed at the time to be good conscience. That may not make much sense to some, but as a 21 year old Asian woman (when I'd just met the ex), I thought at the time that my only two legitimate options were to leave for marriage or a scholarship to an Ivy League school. Slacker that I am, we all know the latter wasn't an option for me. ;)

The good intentions?

To make that marriage work, to give it the old college try, to suck it up and convince myself time and time again that it was a better idea than it really was.

The biggest problem with that whole scenario?

That convincing yourself that a bad decision is indeed a good one, and for thirteen years at that, requires delusion, after delusion, after delusion. A heaping pile of delusion, actually. Big and little lies you tell yourself over and over again so you won't have to hate or kick yourself for the wrong kind of life you chose while you're unready or unwilling to accept the consequences of leaving it behind.

And yet I can't regret any of it.

Because of two awesome and amazing kids who still love, and want to love, me - despite what the marriage that taxed my mental and emotional resources at my core cost them in time, patience, presence, and affection from their mother. And despite what my eventual separation from that marriage cost them in more of the same.

Because although the decision in hindsight is foolish in my eyes, when I was living it, all the good intentions, all the thoughtful and careful rationalizations, all the learned selflessness it took to maintain that marriage without complaining or feeling sorry for myself when a lot of people thought I should, taught me a stoicism and resolve that will serve a worthwhile purpose on another day now that I know better.

Because I learned in the worst moments of the process of separation that I'm a stronger human being than I could have imagined before I had to live, and ultimately survive, them.

And because, eighteen years after it all began, I find myself returning to, or perhaps arriving at, a better version of me:

- more comfortable with my conscience, even when it seems at odds with the expectations of others

- more grateful - for everything, really

- more content with a life cluttered by fewer things

- more convicted that I can choose to assign growth and meaning to those things in life that can seem random and unfortunate

- more confident in owning the gifts and strengths that I've been bestowed, but perhaps more importantly,

- more humble and accepting of the flaws and weaknesses gifted me so that I could come to realize how the people I allow into my life can either magnify those weaknesses, or complement them and strengthen me despite them.

And as evolved and peaceful as all that may sound, I have also learned that all the womanly and personal quirks - the snarkiness, the bitchiness, the really strong opinions about really trivial things - that emanate from my personality don't have to be subsumed by a little earned wisdom.

I find my cooking mirroring my life quite a lot these days:

- The execution of techniques is more confident and refined.
- The processes are more efficient.
- My tastes are better defined, albeit still eclectic.
- The selection of ingredients is much more important.

And given what I've learned, I think I'm ready to re-open the kitchen, but I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. :P

Off to make lunch now. :)

shinae

Thai-Korean Inspired Preserved Shrimp

I don't expect this will be the most popular concoction I've ever shared here. It is admittedly slightly hardcore and challenging stuff.

But it's the kind of stuff I grew up eating and loving as a little girl when they used to call me hahlmohni (Korean for grandmother) for my somewhat precocious inclination toward what were usually considered to be tastes acquired later in life.

And it was inspired by a dish we had at our dinner at Lers Ros with my friend Maria up in San Francisco, koong chae nam pla, which is a seasoned fish sauce brined raw shrimp with things like garlic, lemongrass, chilies, and fresh mint. 

When I took my first bite, it immediately reminded me of a Korean side dish called gaejahng (the preserved crab, not the dog soup), which is a similar soy sauce brined preparation, only made with raw blue crabs, eaten with steamed rice.

I left the heads on the shrimp because the stuff inside is similar to crab tomalley, and that stuff is the most prized element of Korean gaejahng.

Thai-Korean Inspired Preserved Raw Shrimp
(inspired by koong chae nam pla and gaejahng aka gejang)

- about 3/4 pounds raw head-on 31-40 count shrimp, body peeled and deveined, heads intact

Brine ingredients:

- 1 jalapeño, thinly sliced
- 1 habanero, thinly sliced
- 2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
- 2 chiles de arbol, thinly sliced
- about 1.5" knob of ginger, peeled and finely julienned
- 1 teaspoon crushed chili flakes
- 2 dried Kaffir lime leaves, finely julienned (optional)
- the zest and juice of 1 Kaffir lime (about 2 tablespoons) If you don't have Kaffir lime, you can just the zest of 1 regular lime and about 1.5 Tablespoons regular lime juice
- 1/4 cup + 1 Tablespoon fish sauce
- 1 Tablespoon soy sauce
- 2 Tablespoons water
- 2 Tablespoons sugar

1) Combine all the brine ingredients and stir until the sugar is completely dissolved.

2) Lay the shrimp in a single layer in a bottle or plastic container and spoon enough brine over it to coat. Repeat the process until all the shrimp is layered and brined.

3) Store in the fridge for at least 4 hours before eating, redistributing the shrimp 2 or 3 times to ensure even seasoning.

I served it tonight over a bed of green cabbage and chopped fresh mint and cilantro with some extra brine spooned over the greens so we could squeeze some fresh lime juice on top and make a salad of it.

And that went perfectly with our dinner of Coconut Coconut Curry and steamed jasmine rice washed down with a fat mug of mint limeade. :)

shinae