Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Chrildren Involved

There is a certain poetry to an awkward translation.  Especially if you imagine it said by a strapping, dark wavy haired, suntanned and oiled señor.  With a dimple in his chin.  I am researching the country of Chile, preparing myself for a mid-winter escape to warm beaches and cold beer.  Finding information on the country, not the bean dish, leads me to many websites in Spanish.  But, tadah, the wonderful web provides a translation.  Language translation on the web is really a miracle of some sort.  It allows so much more information, translated from a native tongue, so one hopes maybe a little more honest.  But also with awkward cadence, misarranged sentences and some pretty shocking translations. 

Take for example a little exploration into Chilean cuisine.  I’m preparing myself to order off a menu intelligently (and to avoid something similar to our ill fated “gristled ear” adventure in Spain).  From what I can see we will have marvelous dining on seafood pies, pork boiled in pig leather and drunken chicken.  I was however leery of the “Children Involved” listed in the beef category.  Bouncing back to the Spanish, Ninos Envueltos must be related to the meat stuffed rolls I’ve made in cooking classes in Sicily and Italy.  From what I recall the name comes from the word “envelope” for the pocket that is made for the herbs and breadcrumbs inside.  But in this case an envelope becomes “involved” and what is probably a veal cutlet becomes child.  In the actual recipe it gets further from the truth, calling for “12 scallops seat small” which I assume are small escallops of veal, not scallops of the sea.  The list of ingredients looks wonderful (chard leaves, white wine, garlic, bay leaf, cumin, vinegar and bacon).  All is pretty understandable and lovely until the last direction.  Quite frankly you are to: “Serve two children wrapped with their sauce per person, accompanied with a good creamy mashed potatoes (sic).”

The lilted, stumbling sentences manage to portray a romantic image of beaches, sunsets, harbors and birds.  Even mention of trash on the beach is not so bad.  I give you this:  “The sector of the Vatican is, after a beautiful pine forest, Los Pescadores beach. Ask for the name is something more: five beautifully painted boats rest on the shores of a small bay surrounded by rocks. There is a route that follows here northward and, using rocks, arrives at the famous Punta Lacho, listed as the best viewpoint on the Central Coast for having panoramic from Isla Negra to Cartagena. However there are some problems: the memories of the human presence who forget to bring their trash.”

It all sounds so peaceful (minus the trash) and the elusive romantic in me stirs as I envision the heat, the Malbec wines, walks on the beach, shots in a local bar.  Someone that my “powerful air” won’t scare away.  His name may be Don Nicanor.  Finally: “ Las Cruces is seaside resort all year round. Autumn rains, fog or sudden sunny give you a powerful air. Winter is in full solitude and spring with migratory birds, announces that the heat is about to return. If walking around here, hopefully he greets don Nicanor.  Meanwhile, the song of the sea never stops.” (Chile.com)

Friday, March 8, 2013

Cascadia Class and Market Tour

Note: this review of a market tour/cooking class was originally written in 2008 or 2009 but I just found it in draft form in the blogspot and decided to go ahead and post it though I believe the experience is no longer available.  But it was a wonderful time and I believe the write up captures the experience nicely and accurately.  Enjoy!)

It’s 11 AM, Saturday morning, peak of tourist season at a very crowded Pike Place Market. It’s swarming with people despite the fact that it is actually cool, jacket weather in July. Finally a break from stifling hot weather that has had folks planted in inertia due to the sweaty heat. Our instructions are to meet our chef at “the pig,” the larger than life size brass pig near the fish tossing merchants. This crowded spot is a favorite photo op for out of towners and little children. Being close to the fish launching spectacle (which later our chef will mention is food abuse: the tossing of fresh fish meat bruises the delicate meat) we are jostled and plowed over as people try to make their way to watch the famous Seattle sight. I am standing with my two dear friends: Judy my foody and travel friend, and Kris, our friend out visiting from Chicago. Judy and I met Kris on an olive oil tour and cooking session in Tuscany a few years back.

The “our chef” I refer to is Kerry Sear, Executive Chef and co owner (with his wife Heidi Grathwol) of Belltown’s impressive Cascadia restaurant. In honor of our cooking class mini-reunion, Judy has found this market tour/cooking lesson with Chef Sear, and though it didn’t quite measure up to the Tuscan experience, in terms of European flavor, it turned out to be every bit as informative, tasty, entertaining and fun as the classes in Italy.

Chef Sear, accompanied by his young soft spoken assistant/sous chef, James, whom Chef Sear affectionately refers to as “Jim-Bo”, ferrets his class of 11 (almost a full class: they are capped at an attendance of 12) out of the crowd. Chef Sear has arrived in his culinary whites which makes him easier to find, though he matches the picture on his website so we know we are hooking up with the right chef. Along with the three of us there are three couples and two other women. Between us we represent an array of culinary experience ranging from those who appear to know nothing more than the fact that they like to eat good food to those who can “one-up” the chef in foody knowledge. It is a nice group and the camaraderie only grows after the fine wine sampling that will take place at the restaurant later (more on that to come).

We will start with an hour or so working our way north through the market (mostly we stick to the shops to the east of the internal roadway as inside the market stalls it is way too crowded to make our way through or hear). It is apparent that Chef Sear knows most of the market vendors as they allow him to take apart a variety of produce as he talks about what to look for and how to use them. James stands by with a knife to cut into the produce and napkins for cleaning our hands up after digging in. He also has the cash to purchase some of the goods that will become part of the food prepared in class and gets to carry said purchases back to the restaurant. I wonder if he hires out!

Surrounded by an aromatic cloud of fresh dill that makes my mouth water, we learn about fresh fava beans and tomatilos. Some of the crowd passing by stops to catch an earful of this knowledgeable chef before we move on. We duck into Fero’s Meat Market and learn all about hanging beef (the necessity to have beef hanging to properly age and why it is so much more expensive, but worth the cost), free range chicken and cooking goat. The butcher tells us that though goat is gaining in popularity he doesn’t sell much as the largest market for goat meat is still to the middle-easterners and since his market also sales pork products that market is more apt to buy from a “clean” butcher.

We round the corner to a small specialty cheese counter, Quality Cheese. There he buys a small portion of Sally Jackson goat cheese which we get to sample. The cheese is rustically wrapped in chestnut leaves and is just between solid and liquid. It is so yummy we all proclaim our intent to return to buy some on our way back after the class (little do we know how our after meal fullness will work against any intentions to stock up, even on market goods).

From here we go back on the street and sample a variety of fruits from a sidewalk vendor, Frank’s Quality Produce. The Sharlin melon is the most wonderful melon I have ever had the opportunity to taste. James shells out some money for a small sack of lychee fruits which we peel and consume on the spot. This brings back wonderful memories of my childhood when my father’s graduate students would serve a dessert of canned lychees, a perfect ending to exotic foreign meals. Chef Shears suggests that these unique fruits can be peeled and frozen then plopped into a well shaken martini for a special touch. Our eyebrows collectively raise. Something about the suggestion of well blended martinis on a hot summer afternoon peaks our interest. Our adventure is filled with these kinds of tasty tips to be filed away for future use.

We duck inside to the only interior market stall we will stop at, Sosio’s Produce. Here we are told about special mushrooms (at nearly $40 per pound they are special indeed) and heirloom tomatoes. We are given a taste of nectarines that are nothing short of perfect. Perfect in texture, smell, flavor. I melt on the spot.

Heading back out into the market road we stop by the organic stand where Chef Sear shows us all about potatoes. Cutting into the small purple Peruvian potatoes, we learn about cooking purple potato salad, which kids adore, roasting fingerling options and yellow Yukons perfect for mashing. It’s a quick refresher course on selecting the perfect potato for a dish. James shells out cash for a large bunch of squash greens and lovely purple and green colored Chinese spinach which will be prepared for our meal.

Though there is obviously so much more that the chef could teach us at the market, time is running short and so we head east, up to First Avenue and walk north the three blocks or so to Cascadia Restaurant. This is my first trip into this Mecca of fine dining. The chef has obviously called ahead to let the crew know that the class will arrive soon as the final glasses of a most beautiful rosé colored sparking wine are being poured as we come through the door.

I would note that a restaurant always looks beautiful through rosé colored glasses. And being the focus of an attentive staff’s attention usually makes for a wonderful experience. The wine is a delicately mauve colored Brut rosé “Rosé d’Or” by R. Stuart & Co. (Oregon), smooth and just the right subtle sweetness. The bubbles are long lasting and festive. The fact that we have the open and spacious restaurant to our small party of 11 and beautifully appointed tables by the window only seals the first impression that we are in for a glorious experience. We are not let down.

With champagne glass in hand we are allowed to make ourselves at home to soak up the ambiance of the restaurant while finishing touches on our kitchen seating assignments are put in place. The four intimately set tables for three are perched in the sunshine which filters through the large front windows. As Belltown activity goes by on the sidewalk, our focus is on the breathtaking fused glass charger plates at our places. We remark that it is unfortunate that none of our purses are large enough to abscond with a plate. The colors of these plates are as tasty as any dish that could possibly be served on them. Beyond pastel, the blues and greens and yellows sigh in anticipation of the feast to come.

When I can pull my eyes away from the table and my lips from the glass of bubbly I look around the dining room. This place is the perfect balance of space and intimacy. Ceilings over two stories high counter the fact that this is an intimate venue. A large, old fashioned bar runs along the north end of the dining room and one can imagine the echoes of clinking ice and friendly bar banter from the evening before. At the east end of the bar, a wall of wine bottles with interesting labels (some lightly dusty) stretches the full height of the room, a library stack ladder on a track provides access for those hard to reach. A water wall/petition/sculpture separates the dining room from the kitchen and provides an added element of tranquility to the setting and hints at the marriage of fire and water taking place in the kitchen just feet away. The dining room is simply but elegantly decorated with small orchid plantings tucked into wall recesses and sophisticated wall sconces.

After a very short respite in the dining room where we wind down from the bustle of the market with our bubbly, we are led into the kitchen. A long counter with stools is set up for us along the west edge. The large open kitchen is abuzz with prep chefs and things simmering. We each have tasting plates, water, flatware and napkins at our seats along side a prep counter. Our champagne glasses are quickly refilled as soon as we sit down. In front of our places are intriguing sculptures of triangular crisps (I learn that these are toasted wedge cut tortillas brushed with black olive tapenade) perched on a generous dollop of white bean pure drizzled with chipotle oil. I am so angry with myself that my digital camera is lying uselessly uncharged in my purse: this is picture perfect.

Our fist lesson is in salt. Chef Sear passes around three small dishes of sea salt: one plain, one citrus seasoned, one seasoned with a smoky chili. We put small samples on our plates though we will not need them as everything we will try here is seasoned perfectly. When we learn that the container of salt that the chef holds up costs $85 our attention is drawn to a gentleman in the class who has helped himself to very generous piles of the sea treasure on his plate. We laugh heartily when his wife remarks that he has been put on a no salt diet at home and understand his desire to overindulge at this place. He is warmly reminded of this throughout the lesson.

We learn about the flavored grape seed oils crafted on site that are a staple to the kitchen: citrus oil, lobster oil, garlic and chili oils, among others. There is a bright pink concoction in one of the bottles that catches my eye for the beautiful color. Turns out is not an oil but a watermelon reduction that is used in pork dishes and others.

Chef Sear begins our appetizer lesson: small crisp pizzas made on thin pastry rounds, topped with a thin coat of cumin and coriander flavored Greek yoghurt, slivers of sweet onion and chiffonade of proscutto. There is one in our group who has a dairy allergy and the chef takes care to accommodate his needs with a non-dairy variation of each dish for him.

Next, Chef Sear pulls out a lovely cut of fresh tuna, removes the silverskin, and coats it in a fresh roasted grind of spices (anise, fennel seeds, peppercorns, chili powder and others). These are seared while he takes the squash greens that were purchased at the market and quickly wilts these and then coats with a generous portion of butter. We decide that squash greens must be an acquired taste as they are a bit too organic for our palates. One in our group is disappointed that these aren’t just wonderful as she has a garden full of squash greens that she had new hopes for. Ah well: nothing ventured: nothing gained. The ahi is served to us: it is magnificent. Pulled off the heat at the right moment, it is thick and dark in the middle, and creates a small yummy adventure as we bite through the crunchy spiced outer layer into the rich soft meat inside. This is definitely a dish I will recreate at home. The only downside to this experience is that there are no printed recipes though we understand that these dishes are created on the fly by a chef who is whipping out dishes from his creative head based on his feel of the crowd and the produce we have found at the market. A notepad and pen to write these ideas down is the only thing I find want of in this otherwise all encompassing service. In some ways, though, it is nice to relax and not be too focused on trying to get it all down. The “education” is more perfectly absorbed through all senses, sight, smell, sound and bubbly without trying to get it scientifically down.

Small baskets of crisply fried, lightly salted lotus root and tarot root slices are passed as Chef Kerry shows us the whole raw root. Who would have thought such tasty delicate treats could come from such homely roots?

Lastly, the beautiful Chinese spinach is quick sautéed and tossed with sesame oil, soy sauce and garlic oil. It maintains its beautiful green and purple hue and is also delicious (forgive me if I repeat the word “delicious” too many times in one story. It is the best word for so many things devoured here.) Our kitchen lesson has concluded and we are dismissed to the dining room where we have a very short wait until our lunch is served.

In the dining room we are very well attended to by Mathew, a shining representative of the restaurant’s wait staff. We are served a 2005 Malagousia (white) by Domaine Gerovassiliou from Epanomi in the Thessaloniki region of Greece. I am not a huge fan of white wine but the others at the table found it good. I opt to save my wine calories for the other courses: since it is before 2:00 PM I am pacing myself. I am also leery of Greek wine. (The worst thing from a bottle I have ever swallowed was a Greek Champagne on New Year’s Eve in Athens several years ago. I believe turpentine would have been more digestible). We are served a small salad of beautiful heirloom tomatoes and marinated Greek feta cheese with roast onion dressing. It tastes as marvelous as it looks.

This is followed by a generous entrée of grilled mahi mahi on a bed of fresh baby greens. Flavors are wonderful though I am afraid to say I have forgotten what they were. Perhaps I was distracted by the lovely glass of Willamette Valley Pinot Noir (R. Stuart & Co. ‘Autograph’, 2004). Beautiful slices of sautéed golden beets perked up the plate color. Try as I might I could not get over my aversion to beets: if any ever looked good enough to eat these did. Alas, they still tasted like dirt to my unenthusiastic beet palate. But Judy, who is a beet fan, declared them yummy. Kris feels the same way about beets as I: we did give them the old college try.

The finishing phase of our dining experience was a beautifully presented individual organic blueberry tart (this restaurant focuses on organic produce) with a lemon balm syrup. This was paired perfectly with a 2004 Muscat (2004 Chapoutier ‘Muscat de Rivesaltes’) from the Rhone region. Mathew was very knowledgeable on the preparations and ingredients of all dishes as well as the wines. And cheerfully served us a fine cup of coffee to wake us up after our very relaxed, almost surreal, food experience. Chef Sear came out frequently during our meal to check on our experience and answer any questions we had about what we were consuming. He also sheepishly took credit for the nice watercolor paintings/sketches in the ladies toilet. This is a man of many talents but self understated. He answered the question of what he would have been if he hadn’t pursued a career as a chef. “Graphic artist” was his answer. This probably helps explain the well thought out ambiance that permeates his restaurant.

While the cost was towards the upper end for cooking classes in this region (almost $95 per person, including tax and service), in reality it was a bargain. Most cooking classes don’t come with a market tour and introduction to some of the best vendors in the market. None that I know of come with four bountiful wine pairings, so many appetizers and a full size three course lunch served. Chef Sear seemed as delighted to share his knowledge and kitchen craft with the group as the group was to be shared with. The dining room ambiance was more abundant than you will get with most cooking classes and the service from everyone involved was what I wish all restaurants had to offer. This is an experience not to be missed. To find out more about classes as well as the menu and more see www.cascadiarestaurant.com. Information on the market can be found at www.pikeplacemarket.org.

Everything That Lives is Holy

These are the things that call
Me to and through and in
What is true
Not what was true
Nor what will be true
I filled my bowl with tears
Then broke it
And all that was sorrow ran out
The emptiness became a space
To fill anew
Careful of what I put inside
Aware now of the damage
But empty for the filling
None the less

I watched from the outside
Looking up into the window where
The drapes were pulled back
And I saw into what looked like my soul
It made me sick
To see how sick it had made me
How hard it was to be inside
Looking out through the dirty window
And how much time I stood at the window
Looking in
I met my eyes through the glass
And said “everything that lives is Holy.”
And inside I awoke

2008...lost in blog editing/draft land until now...(“Everything that lives is holy” is something William Blake wrote and was the inspiration for this piece.)

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Roasting a Perfect Chicken: Check!

I have had some interesting meals in my life.  But when I think about my best food experiences, a really good roast chicken comes to the top.  A traditional birthday treat is La Medusa, a small Sicilian restaurant in the Columbia City neighborhood of Seattle, with Judy and Steve.  This small eatery is consistently outstanding.  We go to their market meal sometime in the summer where they create masterpieces with what is fresh in the neighboring farmer’s market.  It was there I had the most wonderful restaurant dinner I ever enjoyed: a roasted chicken.  Only topped by my friend Melinda’s roasted chicken.  She is a chef officially and naturally.  In the wonderful, wet Seattle winter (I can say wet is wonderful after my hard time in the Middle East) I was thinking that a roasted chicken is what I really wanted to learn how to make.  So, after a call to Melinda, I set out to learn how to roast one that I would be proud to serve.  Or to enjoy by myself.  Melinda shared with me her approach.  I did a little extra research on the internet and took it on.  After four (all delicious) birds I feel ready to (over)share what I learned.  Here is all the advice (maybe too much?) you need to roast a delicious chicken. 

What you need:

  • A 5 to 7 pound chicken (my advice: spend the extra money to buy an organic free range bird.  Too small and it doesn’t have the juice and fat you need and cooks too fast to really roast in the flavor.  Mass produced hormone fed two for the price of one F-ing Farm birds too fatty and injected with juice…well, it just doesn’t feel right to put this much love into).  Accounting for the bones and other unplatable parts you get about one serving per pound of raw, whole chicken.
  • Two yellow onions
  • Two big fat carrots
  • Four stalks of celery
  • ¼ cup ( ½  cube) butter
  • ¼ cup olive oil
  • ¼ - ½ cup chopped fresh herbs (I use Italian parsley and fresh thyme and rosemary from the garden)
  • Salt (be generous) and fresh ground pepper
  • 1/2 lemon, zested and juiced (optional)

What you do:

Preheat oven to 450-degrees.  Put the rack low in the oven (the bird will be pretty high).

Peel the two onions and cut each in half.  Lay the four halves in the middle of a deep sided baking pan.  Cut the carrots in half lengthwise and layout across the top of the onions.  Criss cross the celery stalks on top of the carrots making a vegetable “raft” on which you will eventually lay the chicken.

(note, this photo illustrates the raft.  It is the first chicken I tried.  This is where I learned don't bother with a scrawny bird.  This was only 2.5 lbs and, though yummy, way too small to make a good roast chicken)

Wash and pat dry the chicken. 

Melt the butter. 

Mix with chopped herbs, olive oil, a big pinch of salt and some ground pepper.  Add the lemon juice and zest if desired.

With your hand, chicken breast side up, separate the skin from the breast meat.  Generously rub about half the herbed butter/oil mixture under the skin.  This should be a very tactile experience.  No weenies allowed.  Clip off the tips of the wings and insert into the vegetable raft.  If the chicken came with a neck stick that in the raft too.  Ditch any giblets.  Who eats those anyway?  With cooking twine, truss the legs and the “pope’s nose” together tightly then tie the wings tightly to the body.  Rub the rest of the butter/oil/herbs over the rest of the outside of the chicken.  Lay the bird on top of the vegetable raft.

Put the bird in the hot oven and turn the heat down to 350 degrees.  Set the timer for 20 minutes per pound for the bird (set the timer for two hours for a six pound chicken).  Soon you will realize you are salivating…the house starts to smell amazing!  Resist the temptation to peek.  When the timer goes off take the bird’s temperature in two places: the middle of the breast, and, more importantly, at the fattest part of the thigh.  You are aiming for an internal temperature of 160-170 degrees.  It continues to heat before it cools down so don’t worry about the thermometer saying it needs to be 175.  Even if the top is a nice brown do not be tempted to take out sooner.  You may need to go for up to another thirty minutes.  Take the chicken out BUT (this is the most important part) do not cut into the chicken for at least 15 minutes).  If you are going to want to make gravy, while the chicken is cooling remove it from the roaster and put it on a high sided platter.  I’ll explain the gravy part later.  You can leave the chicken at this point for a good deal of time.  It will stay juicy.

Gravy and Chicken Stock:

While you now have a wonderful roasted chicken, you have the opportunity to make a wonderful chicken stock and some incredibly delicious gravy.  Here’s what I do:  Put a big pot filled half way with cold water on the back burner.  When you’ve put the chicken on the platter to cool remove the vegetables from the raft and throw them in the pot with the water (if you’ve got a steamer/straining basket have it in the pot with the water.  It makes draining the broth later easier).  There will be lots of juices in the roasting pan.  Pour them into a small bowl and stick this in the refrigerator to separate. 

There will be some wonderful brown bits in the bottom of the roasting pan.  Scrape these into a small saucepan.  After the chicken has cooled for at least 15 minutes move it to a cutting board.  There will be lots of good juices on the platter.  Pour these juices into another small bowl and stick it into the refrigerator.  In another fifteen minutes to a half hour take your two small bowls of juices from the fridge.  The first bowl will have a thick layer of rendered fat on the top.  With a spoon scrape these fats into the sink.  What’s left is a gelatinous layer of thick brown gravy makings.  Put that into the small saucepan with the brown bits.  The second bowl will mostly be thick gelatinous gravy makings and a thin layer of fat.  If you want, separate that out but if it’s a small amount don’t worry.  Toss it into the gravy sauce pan.  Turn the burner onto medium.  While it’s heating up, in a small bottle shake together about ¼ cup COLD milk and a generous tablespoon of white flower.  When the gelatinous juices have melted and are near boil add the milk/flour mix and a good pinch of salt.  Whisk briskly as it comes to a boil and thickens up.  Taste it.  Add salt and fresh ground pepper to taste.  There’s your gravy! 

When you carve the bird, throw the unusable back part into the big pot for the chicken broth.  After people have enjoyed the chicken take any bones from their plates and throw them in the broth pot too.  Simmer that broth until it is reduced to about a third.  Pour it through a colander and discard the vegetables and bones.  Some of the herbs will stay behind.  That’s all good.  Return to the pot and simmer until about an hour before you have to give up and go to bed.  Just before you retire move the reduced broth to a sealable container and throw it in the fridge or into the freezer.  You have gold there.  You can be sated just by the aromas from reheating that broth.  It’s all good!

Sides: (Mashed Potatoes and Roasted Green Beans with Garlic)

You don’t have to do anything but the chicken to be perfectly at peace.  But as long as you are messing up the kitchen, and maybe serving a few friends, and have that wonderful brown gravy, simple sides of mashed potatoes and roasted green beans are perfect sides.  For the potatoes I use some large red ones.  Cut them into fourths.  Cover with cold water plus a generous pinch of Kosher salt.  Boil until soft when pierced with a fork.  Drain.  Put through a potato ricer (I don’t like to use the mixer as they turn too starchy).  Some of the red skins will get through.  That’s all good too.  Heat a little butter and milk and mix in.  Then dip into that hot broth on the back burner and add some to the potatoes through a strainer until they are the texture you like.  Taste and add more salt if needed.

For the beans, pinch off the stem ends and wash.  Shake off the water.  Toss with a little olive oil and a little Kosher salt.  Chop finely several cloves of garlic and toss in too.  Lay them out in a single layer on a baking sheet.  Throw them into the 375 oven while the chicken is cooling.  Cook for about eight minutes.  That’s it.  Easy peasy.

What you drink:

If you are at a loss for what wine to serve with this chicken I will recommend a nice chilled rose' or a Pinot Noir at room temp.  Trader Joe’s has lots of good, well priced options.  This is a rustic meal.  No expensive labels needed.  I like one with a good write up posted on the shelf and a fun label.  I’m just that way.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

The Altruistic Efforts of a Gourd

Are admirable.
From excess water, it forms knobby tumors
So a blind person, coming up empty for odor
And oblivious to the brilliancy of its colorful show
Finds the messages in Braille.

An experienced gourd interpreter
Or a tactile hungry unseeing person
Might, after spending time with the gourd,
Come up with the secrets of the garden
Or life.

In the afternoon,
grief soaked and spent,
I held the gourd and tried to channel its messages
And interpret the earth and the garden that gave and took my father.
It had so much to say
Though I think it mostly spoke about any of us
And not my father
Who would have outspoken the gourd and told it a few things or two.

-Jennifer Lowe
From Hugo House class "The Poetics of Objects", 2012