Tuesday, December 29, 2009

How to not ski. For Dummies.

Everyone has seen, and perhaps secretly opened one of the many "How to..for Dummies" books. Nobody likes to admit they don't know something, but even more so nobody likes to admit they're actually reading a book that calls them mentally challenged and then goes on to enlighten them on whatever subject. However, often the best encouragement to try new things is simply the knowledge that you are not the only idiot out there. So really, there should be books on "How to not...for Dummies". If you truly are not mentally challenged, process of elimination paired with common sense will teach you how something ought to be done.




Take skiing for example. If my crazy..scratch that..insane, best friend hadn't dragged me up the hill, claiming that she did this all the time herself, I never would have tried it. Most people learn how to ski with actual downhill skis, on manicured hills, and during normal daylight hours. They might even have tall, dark and handsome ski instructors with reflexes that set your mind at ease about falling anywhere near their arms reach.



These people, after spending an afternoon halfway successfully skiing, but more often then not, falling into the arms of good looking and obviously well muscled ski instructors, would most likely return to whatever multimillion dollar lodge they were housed in for the weekend, unbruised, and sip hot chocolate while contemplating the following days run.



However, like the majority of Alaskans, I am unconventional. My best friend taught me how to ski, in the middle of the night, with cross country skis, and on an icy cliff that also doubled as the main road. On the way up the back side of the hill, through snowy trails, I was congratulating myself on my quickly learned familiarity with skiing. What I had yet to learn, was that skiing, much like crocodile hunting, is not an art, it is a gamble. Anyone taking up either of these hobbies ought to be thoroughly insured.



When we reached the top of the hill, I'm sure the view would have been breathtaking..if I could see. However, generally in Alaska, in winter, at night, it is dark; and so it was. My friend assured me that this run was safe, and she took off down the hill. As she left, I could hear the vibrations of he skis on the washboard ice. And, of course, the only red flag that went up in my mind was that my hands were cold. I took off down the hill.



I actually made it to the first curve before my right ski went to the left and my left ski went under my right leg and ended up somewhere around my head, while my ski poles disappeared into various directions of darkness. As I lay staring at the starts, and not just he ones in the night sky, I realized that perhaps I was cut out for less dangerous sports..like playing the piano. And I still had half the hill, one more turn and an intense drop to go.



I made it down to the second turn by squatting above my skis and leaning all my weight on my poles to keep from going more than 5 miles an hour. By this time my skiing "buddy" was at the bottom of the cliff, tapping her foot, and wondering if I had been eaten by a moose. As I stood at the top of the steepest part of the hill, having actually managed to come to a complete stop, I considered my options.



One, I could take off my skis, and walk down the hill, but that would take a serious toll on my pride, and a lot of hot water, as my bindings were iced quite firmly shut. Two, I could try to go back up the hill the way I had just come, and head down the significantly less daunting other side of the hill. I tried taking a step to turn around, but was once again greeted with a great view of the night sky. End of options.



What was really freaking me out about just going for it was the fast that I couldn't see. There's a few things in life where clear vision is important. Such as icy death traps, anything involving crocodiles, and choosing a mate. Just at I was engrossed in those thoughts, fate seemed to shine a ray of light into my life, literally. A car turned onto the road ahead. Momentarily able to see the road beneath my feet, I shoved off. It was like rollarblading on a crisco covered mirror.



Fate stopped being helpful two seconds later and the car turned off the road. I was plunged into darkness but couldn't have stopped then to save my life, so I merely focused on not being the first airborne gymnast at -20. The only way I knew my feet were still touching the ground was by the vibration from the washboard ice rattling its way up my bones to my teeth. The wind rushed by my ears, figid and numbing, deafening and breath stealing.



Then, it was over. I was face to face with my..uh..best friend, at the bottom of the hill. Well, mostly face to face, hers was a little farther down since she was on the ground laughing. But I learned a valuable lesson: Don't do things just because people tell you to. You will end up with countless gym memberships, or the leader of a bunch of girl scouts, or the owner of a hot air balloon, or hurtling down hills at warp speed.


This is how I like to ski ---------->

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Winter is here!

I spose technically winter has been here a while...but it didn't come to me this year. If it's raining in December, it's not winter. It's just an extention of fall and spring. When I stepped off the plane into -30 in Fairbanks though I realized a few things. One, it was winter, obviously. Two, I had forgotten what cold was.

Being home has been fantastic so far. It's been a long time since I've tripped over toy dinosaurs, or had to wait for the bathroom because an entire line of little people are waiting to brush their teeth. Mom still cooks far better than I do, && I don't critique her. Mainly because I still like to eat. With my teeth.

I have done a lot of cooking though. To my lil people I'm a bit of a celebrity. Someone who has gone into the great unknown and returned. College may as well be another planet because as far as they are concerned, I am an astronaut. Who can make coconut macaroons.


Today we all went sledding/snowboarding/skiing. I still ski on my bum. But I have come to terms with this.


I saved Thomas from frostbite by sending all the blood to his cheeks.


Me and Micah! We're real Alaskan. Carharts and fur.


Sunday, December 20, 2009

Coming Home.

Coming home from school is a different sort of homecoming than I have experienced before. It was something I looked forward to. Not like coming home from Grandma's, or coming home from summer camp. Remember being at your friends house and dreading hearing the phone ring?




"Mommm..come home NOW?! But Barbie is about to marry Ken.."



Not this time. Coming home from exams and uniforms and dormitories is a ridiculously joyful experience. It's different than going home with your roommate or going to visit people. When I know I'm off to my mom's house packing is a relief, not a preparation, mostly because I know I can bring one big suitcase of dirty laundry and that I'll have a free toothbrush when I arrive.



Coming home is nice because you're not exactly a guest, you don't get special treatment. (Nobody puts on the food network for my benefit.) I'm pretty sure mom thinks she sent me to culinary school to learn to wash mass amounts of dishes.



When I stepped off the plane in Fairbanks, I also realized that I had forgotten what cold was, even though I had long since found myself missing the woodstove. Probably because I had brothers who kept it filled though =). My dorm attendent informed me installing a woodstove would force the schools insurance to such heights that all students would be eating two meals of sauerkraut daily, if that.



However, the nicest thing about being the first kid out of the house, is that you get your room back when you get home.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Charlie Brown Christmas..

So..we had this fantastic idea that we needed a Christmas tree here at Avtec. Nate's room happened to be the only one with enough room. Therefore there is the top of a tree that we butchered on his fridge..complete with lights, popcorn, and cranberries. Which I strung, by the way. Dad, you should appreciate the base...haha. Take a close look at that.
The view looking up at Mt. Marathon this morning around 8:30. Gorgeous day it was...
Oh, the burns are healing mom. They've scabbed over since I accidentally ripped them open on the corner of a box of white wine....OUCH. That hurt more than the actual burning I think. Now that they're bright red I get a lot more deserved sympathy however...

Sunday, December 13, 2009

More pics from class..

In order to evenly saute chicken (the idea is to brown all sides, also called searing, you aren't cooking it all the way through), add oil to the old ghetto pan..watch it all run to the grooves in the center, then manhandle the pan back and forth to spread the oil around so you don't burn 90% of the chicken.
Note to self: chicken should be placed in hot oil, with long tongs. Not thrown in from a distance.

Friday, December 4, 2009

7 ways to scheme for cookies.

No matter where you go in life, even if it's to culinary school, you can count on three things: one, you will not have as much food as you had at your mom's house. Two, you will end up eating some pretty weird things. Three, the cookies will never be as good as mom's. Cookies are worth scheming for.


1. At first, try subtle hints. Don't reduce yourself to groveling till you have to, but keep the option open.

2. Whine. You'd be surprised how well this works when you're not living in her house anymore.

3. Get one of your siblings to mail them to you. If you have all brother however, you're out of luck. I'm sorry.

4. If subtle hints, whining, and mild sneakiness all fail, it's time to begine scheming. You may want to have a photo of yourself such as the attached.This photo can be used in multiple ways if you're not above giving your mom a guilt trip.



5. Send it to your mom, along with a peanut butter saltine pickle ketchup sandwich and offer to trade for a cookie, since these are obviously what you've been living off of for weeks. Don't forget to photoshop so that you look pale, and the sign looks much bigger and brighter than your starving face.

6. Post it on facebook so that all your mother's friends can tell her how horrified they are that her baby is starving. (You might also cash in on extra cookies from other horrified mothers if you tag it to the ones with daughters going to college in a year or two.)

7. If nothing else works though, just send it to your mom along with a note attached saying that Anjolina Jolie wants to adopt you.


Thursday, December 3, 2009

Randomness.

Here's a random post of everything I've forgotten to say over the phone, pictures I've forgotten to post, and a slightly guilt trip induced second post of the day because I ignored my blog for over a week.
And I'm still sidestepping my email..

The weekend before Thanksgiving I had a fantastic time at Sonnenbergs. Got there in time for Vivian's birthday party. Her 8th birthday party I might add. Which blew my mind since I thought she was six. Good grief. She was two when I moved to Tok. TWO.






Also, it should be noted that you never mess with a cook.
Especially one holding a cookie with a good inch of chocolate frosting on it.


Aaaaaand. New hair.



Alright mom..that's three blogs in two days. More than enough proof that I'm still alive.
You could send more food though, peanut butter cheese sandwiches are getting a lil repetetive.
Love you.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving this year was pretty peachy.
I went home with my roomate Ashley to her parent's house, which turned out really great since I got two dinners. The first two nights we stayed with her dad and stepmom, had a fantastic dinner, and pancakes for breakfast, and did absolutely nothing which was also absolutely amazing.

And, I ate an entire pie.

The next two nights we spent at her mom's house. The dinner there was even more amazing since it wasn't your typical turkey overhaul that you see in every entree for the next month meal. We had prime rib =).

And, I ate an entire pie.


Somewhere between my pelvic bones and my rib cage I can fit a remarkable amount of food. This happens rarely and I refer to it as "hobbit syndrome".

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

How to Cook Badly for Dummies.

1. If it's an egg, flip it violently. If you can't get the shells out, at least run it through a blender before serving. However, if you're a truly bad cook you will never use real eggs.


2. If it's funny looking, stir it in better.

3. If it's smoking, put out the fire and add cheese.

4. If you drop it, serve to someone who wasn't looking.

5. If it's green, cook it in the deep fryer. It's obviously too healthy.

6. Prepare everything at least 5 hours before service, and let it sit on the hot line. Gives that same soggy "fresh out of the microwave" effect that most of America is used to.

7. If you're not sure what it's missing, add salt and/or grease.

8. Fry french toast on the same griddle you just made salmon burgers on.

9. If you forget about it, remember that a meat tenderizer has many uses. This works especially well
for pancakes.

10. If you're out of time and it's still bleeding, serve it with ketchup.

11. If you're not sure what it is, cook it till it's bulletproof and call it chicken.


Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Dear mom..

Could you give me a current account balance on my brownie points?

I need just a few things..

A toothbrush: those suckers cost $4! It was that or a latte. Figured you'd want to buy me a toothbrush though, might make you feel better about paying health insurance.

A microwave: I like my coffee black, but not my popcorn. There's plenty of "feeding African children" funds started. Why not a "feeding college children decent food" fund?

More cookies please. As always. Could you send them in paper bags this time? There's too many guys here, and they're catching on to what comes in ziplock bags from mom.

The remote to my stereo: pretty sure I left it at your house. The beds here are like 5 feet in the air! Changing songs is a pain.

A ladder: see above if you didn't catch why.

Chick flicks!: Living in a school with this many men means that 98% of the time the auditorium is monopolized by Rambo, Stargate, and movies where most of the actors don't live to the credits.

Photos: I need some on my walls, but I'm pretty sure I don't have enough brownie points to ask for a printer yet..

A little brother: So I don't have to run across campus from class 27 times daily for everything I forget in my room.

Love always,
The kid you almost got rid of.
But not quite. Don't you love the internet?
=) Brenna

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Fancy Shmancy Dinner

So every year as part of the training course, the culinary class run the "Student Cafe". They have to plan the menus, come up with and debut at least one of their own original recipes, figure out pricing, do the decorating, advertizing, cook and serve the food themselves. The whole operation runs for about 6 weeks. My class won't get to do this till the spring, but we do get the advantage of being able to see what the class ahead of us has to deal with.

Last week Ashley, Cody and I went out for dinner, ironically enough, in our classroom. The theme this year is Italian cooking. I can't pronounce all the names of what we ate...but pretty much it was fancy shmancy grease and cream. Turns out, however, that calimari is actually good. Even after you know what it is. If you don't know what it is though, don't google till you try it.

This first thing is basically mushroom mousse served on shredded, marinaded cucumber. It wasn't too thrilling.




What Cody has is shrimp ravioli something something..I got the steelhead served with gnocci. The gnocci was the best part of the meal!


When I get old..

When I get old..
I will still detest purple, and I definitely won't wear it with red.
I will not wear ridiculously large hats, but I will carry umbrellas.
I will not make my grandkids cookies, cookie dough is better.
I will not wear dentures. Even if it takes a work of orthodontic genius to keep my original teeth.
I will still run. Can't be half as painful if I don't have my original knees.
And I will definitely, have a rocking chair.

















Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Dear mom...

Dear mom:
Thank you for making things like sticky rice cereal for breakfast growing up. It's kept me from getting too sick of cheerios in college.

Thank you for teaching me that the washer can't eat my socks unless I do laundry.

Thank you for sending me cookies, and ignoring the irony of the fact that you are also sending me to culinary school.

Thank you for being short. At least I have someone to blame it on.

Thank you for teaching me to have a sense of humor. It's saved people who shoot my windows with airsoft guns from suffering an untimely death.

Thank you for buying me pepper spray, and reminding me to lock my doors.

Thank you for being kinda scary. When I pick up my phone and say "Hi mom!" I can get out of almost any situation.

I love you =)

Monday, October 19, 2009

How to Dismember a Chicken

For most of my life, I believed that chicken came in two varieties. The normal kind:




The normal check-for-eggs, Disney channel chicken:





And the kind you ate.
Pre-barbequed, edible chicken:






There was never any of this monstrosity:






However, photo 3 is an illustration of the monstrosity that confronted me from my cutting board.

You want me to do what? Cut it up? What IS it?

What I wanted more than anything was to refer my chef/instructor to Photo 2, and a Sam's Club membership. As far as I could tell, what he wanted was the caveman way of aquiring drumsticks.



Step 1- Figure out which end once had a head. This is important, since there are similar holes at both ends of the poutry.



Step 2- Flip the chicken onto its, um, neck, spread the mounds of fat that once were legs, and remove the giblets. (Giblets being the collective name for all vital organs)



Step 3- Realize that you are a slightly cruel person, and that chickens live in a cold, cold world. Come to terms with that.



Step 4- Using brute force and a large chef's knife, remove the backbone, starting at the tail. Be careful not to drop the thing. Live chickens are stupid, but dead ones are stupid and slippery.



Step 5- Once the backbone is out, repeat step 3.



Step 6- Remove the breastbone, cutting off as little meat as possible. Repeat step 3 if neccesary but you should be over it by now. I guarentee what now sits on your cutting board no longer looks like a naked little animal.



Step 7- Remove the wings, seperate the thighs from the drumsticks, trim the fat and, if neccesary, cut the breasts in half. If it's an American grown chicken they're probably as big as Dolly's.



Step 8- Sell the parts to Tyson, wash your hands thoroughly, swing by Safeway on the way home, buy a large bag of boneless, skinless chicken breasts, and a bottle of barbeque sauce. Smile.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Winter Already?


Bread, veggies and cream cheese: $8.49;
Coffee maker: $34.99;
Going to school for culinary arts and realizing the only skill i've perfected is how to make a toasted panini sandwich on the hot plate of my coffee maker that sits on the floor of my dorm room: $Priceless.

I really wish the snow would stop just threatening Seward from the mountaintops and fall already. As you can see I'm prepared.

Got up this morning, realized I was completely out of ground coffee...it struck me that Zach would probably be peeved if i woke him up at 7am on a Sunday morning to get his coffee grinder..so I ended up stumbling out of bed and a few blocks down the street for some coffee. It was a wee bit chilly.

Went to a new church this morning...discovered some random people I happened to know also go there. The electrician at AVTEC and the receptionist at the dentist office. Really miss mom's piano playing the most on Sunday mornings...didn't realize how great it is to hear the Sunday songs practiced all week beforehand, cause then by church I can usually keep up.

Friday, October 16, 2009

You Know You're from Tok When..

1. Sam's Club/Costco is an all day shopping trip, and you have spent more than 6+ hours wandering around, trying out the furniture because every few hours your ma will need you to push a flat cart out the door, so you can't leave.

2. You go squirrel hunting out of boredom.

3. No matter how many identical, quarter shaped shiny blueish shells there are on a beach, it's still a treasure hunt.

4. Very very few things can successfully interrupt my runs..

Among them are earthquakes, lattes, terrorists attacks, broken legs...
And sea otters.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Notes to Self

As I've said before, not all knowledge is from books. I've never found a book titled "Common sense for dummies". I may have to write one. Because as I've come across tidbits of common sense that hadn't occurred to me, I've been writing them on notecards and sticking them on my door. Here's a few.
PS: Be sure to buy my book.

#1- Note to self: Jellyfish are extremely slippery. Like Crisco of the Sea.

#2- Note to self: If you put a fishing hook in your pocket, don't forget.

#3- Note to self: Backward glances before shooting pool are entirely optional. You might be sparing the world from the children of whatever idiot happens to be standing behind you.

#4- Note to self: Time does not heal everything. Not cavities anyway.

#5- Note to self: If hungry enough, cold oatmeal can be reasonably digested. However, not even a Cambodian refugee would eat the stuff frozen, much less a college student.

#6- Note to self: If you live in a school with 150 males, chances are at least one of them knows how to fix your fridge and at least 140 of them are willing to try.

#7- Note to self: 5 hours is much too long to spend making tomato sauce.

#8- Note to self: Going running in the gym when you have the stomach flu is a bad idea. Bad idea being defined as making enemies with the janitor.

#9- Note to self: Nyquil makes life peachy. Too peachy.

#10- Note to self: Close your windows before passing out. Rain does not always confine itself to falling vertically...

More to come, knowledge is continually bombarding my life lately...

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Visit from Traci

Okay...this post is a lil late, but my big sis Traci came and visited me and it was sooo fun!
We drank RedBull, went to the Arts Festival, walked on the beach, got coffee, got Gelatto's (fancy Italian ice cream) and took lots of pictures. Obviously. Camera happy friends are the best! =)

We took a drive around the side of the bay..Traci interrupted my jellyfish counting to take a picture. It was a lot colder out than it looked! Sunshine in AK does not neccesarily equal warmth..
The beach in front of the sea life center.
Pretty much a fancy rock pile that we had to pose in front of. That's me and Sharaya, who came with Traci.
We even saw sea otters playing in the water!
Traci and I!!
So on 4th avenue there are alllll these fancy lightposts! Eventually I'll find the way to Narnia.
The face is not a reflection of the quality of the ice cream...
Nothing like ice cream for breakfast!
Phone booth! Maybe not as good a one as the big red one...right Dana? But we make it look pretty not bad.
We're missing the third angel, but someone had to take the picture!?

Monday, September 28, 2009

Mainly self explanatory pictures. Hehe.

If you thought cookbooks were heavy, you have not yet met recipe TEXTbooks.
Yes...in college coffee cups run in a ratio of 5/1 vs. water bottles.
Nosy neighbors! =)

Deck off of the library/climbing wall/obvious photo opportunity. When you have too much homework to go climb a mountain, one must be creative. Hehe.
Rocking the chef's pants!
Breathe mom, breathe. At least I waited for the right end of the porch to jump.
Seward has a fetish for murals. Yes...that is a dumpster...
The side of the awesome dumpster =)
The water! Isn't it amazing? Had to be out on this beautiful day. Note to self: sunshine does not equal warmth. This counts for like 14 blog posts mom so don't yell at me for a while. Hehe.