Week 15 - Revision

Ever since I was young I have helped my mom cook in the kitchen, whether it is something as simple as scrambled eggs or pancakes, ranging all the way up to Chicken Cordon Bleu and above.   I absolutely love cooking; cooking shows, making food, cooking books, and eating out. If it weren’t for the few exceptions of mussels, calamari, and a few more eclectic tastes, I’d dare say I am quite the food aficionado. 

Whereas I’ve gotten much older than the days of my youth, I have become significantly more affluent in the delectable art that is cooking.  I always tell my friends, ask me to make anything and if I don’t know how to make it, I’ll learn how very quickly.  There’s not much in this world that intrigues me like designing a dish or preparing a new meal, and it’s something that I am extremely fond of doing.

I’ve watched my mother for years, preparing all of our families and other friends’ favorite meals.  Whether it was Chicken Cacciatore, Beef Wellington (I’ve always loved pâté), or Peking duck, there’s just been so many dishes I can barely remember and name them all.   One, however, has held the position as my favorite, all-time meal since the first time I tasted it.  Previously that position had been held by the likes of spaghetti with marinara and even my mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup; but nothing compares to the first time I tried Paella. 

It was love at first bite.  Succulent shrimp, tender chicken breast, delicious gandules, and soft jasmine rice among a myriad of other ingredients all baked slowly for about an hour.  Top it off with a little splash of Goya hot sauce and I’m in heaven.  I never thought I’d ever be able to recreate that magic in a casserole dish like my mom had done as though it was second nature, until recently. 

In the past, if I were to be craving that wonderful amalgam of my ultimate delight, all I would have to do is simply ask: “Mom, can you make some paella for dinner tonight?” and within a few hours, it would be seated in the middle of the kitchen table.  But just like every other simpler dish I had watched her prepared that I enjoyed, I had a deeper desire now; I needed to learn how to make it.  I remember the first time I made such an attempt, it was nerve racking, but now I can prepare it at nearly that magically level I fell in love with.  I dare say I am able to make it with my eyes closed – even though I might incur a few minor and possibly major cuts by doing so.

Garlic, Onions, Scallions: Check.  Green and Red pepper, Olives, Cilantro: Check.  The night prior I always go out and purchase everything I need to make it.  I break out the same casserole dish that my mom uses and once all of the necessary ingredients are in front of me, I take a deep breath before delving any further. 

I’ve got my knives sharpened and the cutting board ready.  First things first, the garlic and olives need to be minced, the onions and scallions diced, same with the green and red pepper.  Once that is all chopped nicely and pushed as neatly as possible to the edges of my giant cutting board, I push forward.  Next item on the agenda, I peel the shrimp and cut the chicken breast into square chunks and place them into their perspective separate bowls, easy peasy. 

Now it’s onto the microwave defrosting of my mom’s homemade chicken stock. Yes I cheat a little, but not only is it nice to make a combination of old and new favorites, it makes the rice considerably more succulent than just using straight water to slow boil it in the oven.  Once that is done, it’s time to sauté the chicken breast pieces with a little canola and hot garlic oil making doubly sure to only brown the chicken, otherwise it’s tough after the slow bake. A few grinds of black pepper; a generous pinch of sea salt.  My array of diced, minced and chopped onions, garlic, peppers, and other veggies go in after. Next comes the most important ingredient, saffron.

I’ve heard that it’s an acquired taste and I have gladly acquired it.  My mind races as I try to keep the pace with what I’ve seen my mom do. 

Right as the chicken is about ready, I throw the rice in to brown that a little as well, along with the gandules, shrimp and cilantro.  As all of the seasonings and flavors marry in my oven, the delicious aroma starts to fill the kitchen and I know that I am roughly half way there.  The familiar smells delight my nostrils and tantalize my olfactory senses. My mouth begins to water. 

As soon as the browning is nearly finished, in goes my mom’s homemade chicken stock, some chives and a few other dry herbs to complement the other already strong and delicious flavors.  I let it simmer for about five minutes longer and toss it gingerly into the oven at 325-350°.  Almost there, and it’s at that point that the anxiousness starts to creep up on me, so much so that I can nearly taste the anticipation!

After tidying up all the dishes and utensils I’ve used to prepare everything, I meander around the kitchen impatiently awaiting the completion of this delectable dish.  I check the clock sporadically and peek into the oven every now and again to check on the progress.  Despite my eagerness I must keep from altering the cook time with my eager observation or else the texture of the dish would suffer.  Thirty minutes transpire and I almost always try to pull the dish out early just because of my taste buds sheer anticipation, but I resist because I know it’ll only be that much better if I stay patient and let it run its course.  Just a little bit longer now.

Finally, the timer on the stove goes off and it’s time to take the Paella out and let it sit for a second and think about what it’s done.  It’s always better to let a dish’s flavors to further marry once it is complete, the anticipation makes it all the better.  I call upstairs and into the living room alerting the family to the meal.  As I hear the first clamoring of movement I quickly sneak a bite out of the covered dish, so as not to alarm the others.  Everyone piles in and gathers around the table. Everyone may be excited to eat, but none more excited than I.  The cover comes off for the first time to the populous and the hyenas converge. 

You know you’ve done well when the entire table is silent while eating, save for the occasional panting break due to an overzealous hot sauce dosage.  I love Paella an incredible amount, as I said it quickly became one of my favorite dishes to eat and make.   As pleasing as it is to my pallet and as happy as I am to partake in the amazing multitudes of tastes, there’s nothing more pleasant to a cook than seeing that everyone else is enjoying it as much as myself. Love at first bite?  Bon Appetit!

Week 14 - Mini-Research

           Since I was a child I have always drawn on my skin.  Stars, hearts, clovers, and sometimes even indiscriminate shapes have made it onto my ever aging canvas. God knows how many times I was disciplined for coming home with markers and ink stains scattered all along my legs and arms - I must’ve been a handful for my parents.   I had always had an interest in adorning my body with colors, even long before I knew about tattoos.  There was just always something very intriguing about having a permanent picture ingrained into my flesh, even though I didn’t understand it until I was older.

           Once I matured and realized just what it meant to actually get a tattoo, I couldn’t come to terms with actually getting one.  How could I decide what I would want on my body for the rest of my life?  It was perplexing to me.  Throughout middle and high school, I always maintained that I would be covered in tattoos one day but when 18 came, I had no idea what I wanted.  I searched and contemplated just what would be the most suitable artwork for my body but considering that it would be there for life, it was nearly impossible for me to commit to one single idea.  What did it mean to get tattooed?  What did it take?  How did it feel deep down?

           Most people believe that a tattoo is just some trivial idea or choice, ill contrived and sometimes poorly considered.  Regardless, there is a lot to think about before you just simply go and get a tattoo; a lot of things I didn’t know.  For instance, I found on BMEzine.com that in the United States, tattoo inks are classified as a cosmetic or color additive, and is thus NOT subject to regulation by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA); Some tattoo parlors have incorrectly claimed that their inks have such an approval.  Although the pigments are not regulated, the FDA and medical practitioners have noted that many ink pigments used in tattoos are “industrial strength colors suitable for printers’ ink or automobile paint.”

How about the fact that in California, Proposition 65 requires that Californians be warned before exposure to certain harmful chemicals; tattoo parlors in California must warn their patrons that tattoo inks contain heavy metals known to cause cancer, birth defects, and other reproductive harm.

There are a lot of things to consider before one just goes out and does something on a whim, and tattoos are certainly no different.  What about the colors they use?  What do they do to my body? Well, apparently they can do a lot of things - Manufacturers are not required to reveal their ingredients or conduct trials, and recipes may be proprietary. While there are several vegan and all-natural inks, some other professional inks may be made from iron oxides (rust), metal salts, plastics. Homemade or traditional tattoo inks may be made from pen ink, soot, dirt, blood, or other ingredients.

Heavy metals used in these other inks for colors include mercury (red); lead (yellow, green, white); cadmium (red, orange, yellow); nickel (black); zinc (yellow, white); chromium (green); cobalt (blue); aluminum (green, violet); titanium (white); copper (blue, green); iron (brown, red, black); and barium (white). Metal oxides used include Ferro cyanide and Ferric yanide (yellow, red, green, blue). Organic chemicals used include azo-chemicals (orange, brown, yellow, green, violet) and naphtha-derived chemicals (red). Carbon (soot or ash) is also used for black. Other compounds used as pigments include antimony, arsenic, beryllium, calcium, lithium, selenium, and sulfur.  Tattoo ink manufacturers typically blend the heavy metal pigments and/or use lightening agents (such as lead or titanium) to reduce production costs.  Basically, it’s not just getting something for fun - a lot of damage can be done in one instance of juvenile antics.

One thing I have noticed since my first tattoo is the variance in feeling regarding the size and quantity of the needles being used in the gun.  Actually, one of my artists has explained to me that it’s not a tattoo gun, it’s a tattoo machine because, “guns are used to kill people, and tattoo machines are used to maim people;” pardon my ignorance.  However, one thing I do know is that needles are a bitch all around.  Some are more irritating than others though and I especially dislike liners (which are the ones used to do the outlining and some other things).  As the name suggests, Liner means a tattoo needle that will be used to outline the shape of the tattoo.  I read on tattooequipmentonline.com that the liner tattoo needles are round in shape and that professional tattoo artists prefer to have at least three needles with sharp ends fixed on one bar. It is the bare minimum number of needles used for general outlining and if the person getting a tattoo wants a thicker outline of the tattoo then the artists use up to nine needles simultaneously. All the liner tattoo needles used by artists are rounded and these drive the ink into the skin. The other type of tattoo needle is used for shading. 

The shading needles on the other hand are not nearly as annoying as the liners.  Despite that shading needles are sometimes referred to as “magnum needles” due to their size; “The shading tattoo needles do not have a restriction of nine needles as generally tattoo artists have been seen using more than nine shading needles at a time. The shading tattoo needles are flat in shape and several shading needles are stacked up in two rows. The artists use it very effectively to blend different colors to impart realistic touch to the tattoo designs.” Again, this was something I didn’t know until I actually sought out the information.  I was always aware of the fact that one was not as painful as the other, but I had no idea as to why that was.

Pain was always an influential factor involved in the decision of getting a tattoo.  It took me until 13 years old to get my ears pierced for the same reason.  What would the pain be involved?  Even though I walked into it blindly the first time, I still wanted to know what caused that much pain.  Although it wasn’t unbearable, it was still remotely painful enough to make me wonder just what needle was causing the most pain: “Both the needles, liner tattoo needles and shading tattoo needles, are very important as the design cannot be completed without one or the other. The only difference between their uses is that the liner tattoo needle has to be used continuously without stopping so that the outlining is done perfectly and precisely. Because of this the pain involved is much greater in comparison to a shading needle. While a shading tattoo needle is used in breaks by the tattoo artist as they pause to wipe excess ink and blood from the area being tattooed.”

Outside of all the risks and pain involved, I still went forward without knowing very much about the actual problems that could arise.  What I did know was that it would be something I would get only at a licensed shop, that it would be somewhat painful, and that it would be there for life.  Upon further research, it’s obvious that there are many things that should’ve also been considered first but what can I do about it now?  Not much.  Might as well smoke another cigarette and hope for the best.