cramming and cooking

Had a bunch of visitors to Kali class this week, mostly from Jean's class and another ethnic studies class at Cal trying to cram before final projects and papers are due. I am reminded by my years of late night studying and am glad those years are behind me. I'm glad they made it out to Pusod. Often students get so caught up with being on campus, they rarely get a chance to see the place they're living in. It was hard to tell what they needed from us in terms of their assignments and I really hoped we weren't overloading their heads. But Cindy from Jean's class seemed to like her experience well enough.

Funny party, during my "in the mood" day, I ran into Jean at a campus cafe. I rarely run into people on campus. There are 10,000 people here afterall. I even know where Catie Cariaga works and I run into her maybe once or twice a year, if that. The lovely conversation with Jean lifted my mood. I affirmed many things in myself that conversation, things I had not "announced" yet. It was nice.

I was lucky in college somewhat to have lived at home and had access to wheels. It meant that I could travel and attend all sorts of events and places in the area. It's how I came to know Leny and how I started taking kali classes. Though I didn't get as much independence as my friends who lived near campus, it was a different perspective living at home.

This weekend was spent also cramming food into my body with various holiday parties. Met the Fiance's college undergrad friend. He always says how few friends he has (outside of the ones we share together) that I enjoy meeting the friends he does have. All in all, he's got good folk around him.

M&M's post-Thanksgiving party was the first for us. He hadn't seen their two kids yet, who were just sweethearts. The feast included various potluck items: venison stew, broccoli salad, (we brought a Chocolate Dream cake from Neldams in Oakland) while they cooked roast turkey, roast beef, and two deep fried turkeys. Kept minimally warm by their outdoor gas heater, we watched the bravery of M dunk each of the turkeys into the boiling peanut oil. Fire is scary enough, but fire with lots of boiling 350 degree oil is scarier. Since the wife is a biology teacher, they were careful enough to measure out just enough oil for the size of the turkey in this experiment. A layer of kitty litter kept the patio from being an oil spill location. Thirty minutes later, super crispy moist turkey. I don't know if we'd ever do that ourselves, but it was fun to see someone else do it.

We chatted with folks after dinner and watch Cal win its game (though we was robbed in these mumbo-jumbo BCS ratings, but that's another rant for later). M&M's 3 year old L enjoyed the party. It's the only time he gets to have all these things he's not supposed to eat: chips, soda, cake, cookies. He located me eating a piece of the Chocolate Dream cake and kept asking for some. I told him that we would "share" the cake and take turns. If you ever have to feed a 3 year old from your plate and actually want to eat food from it, "sharing" is a good idea. Though you will undoubtedly scarf down the food quickly.

The next day was hunted meat cooking day to empty out D's freezer of elk, boar, and duck, her co-worker's husband obtained. And to cook C's boxes of cake mixes. C's mother used to send her cakes cross-country via Greyhound. The boxes of baked goodies would arrive in a horrid inedible state. C then told her "Mom, you can't send me cakes anymore." So, the next year C's mom sent her the cake mix boxes!

Thus the menu of: elk chili, roast duck with soy sauce/pepper, adobong boar and pan roasted boar with pumpkin spice muffins and chocolate fudge cake with walnuts. We cooked from 1p to about 7p or so, cooking, eating, watching dvds, repeat. The elk chili and roast duck were delicious, but boar was just too chewy for adobo. Next time we'll have to do a stew with it. There was a suggestion to make longanisa with the boar, but we just weren't that culinarily ambitious today.

It had been a long time since I was home cooking. So it was fun spending most of the day doing it. We had to make sure to clean as we went since there was limited counter space to work with. Growing up we used to bake a cake maybe once a week from those cake mixes. Eggs, oil, water, and mix. It was all about licking the spoon and bowl afterwards.

Just now getting the dishes finished and cleaning the kitchen. Before home used to be the place that held my stuff and where I'd sleep, shower and change. I lived more out of my car than where I really lived. But since being here the last couple of years, it's really become a place of solice and santuary, a place to rejuvenate with an open door for others to do the same. The sound of bells and moving water are constant. There are blankets and cusions and banigs.

The more I have friends over and have gatherings in my home, the more I learn how to be "here" rather than "there".