Category: Landmarks

Last night I made fried tofu for the Tuesday Night Ballers–the first time I’ve had it in many years, and the first time I’ve made it myself. They liked it, or pretended to, and I was glad it turned out the way I remembered it. The smell of making it was a pretty powerful memory trigger.

I ate bacon only rarely until I was in my teens; instead, we always had fried tofu as our bacon substitute, whether on salads, in sandwiches or solo for breakfast. It works very well in each of those roles, but I have no idea what made my parents decide that it was a bacon substitute, because it tastes nothing like bacon (in fact, it tastes like nothing else of which I know). They’re both flat and fried, though, I guess.

Here’s the recipe. I’m calling it this because my mom’s maiden name is Dixon, and that side of the family comprises the only other people I know who make it.

Dixon Family Fried Tofu

  • Some Tamari Sauce (similar to soy sauce, but different; look in Asian groceries or health food stores)
  • Some Brewer’s Yeast (not regular yeast; check the same health food stores)
  • A Hunk of Firm Tofu
  • Maybe Some Vegetable Oil

Get out three plates. Cover one with a puddle of tamari and another with a layer of brewer’s yeast. Drain the tofu and place the hunk on the third plate.

Cut slices of the tofu widthwise, as if it were a loaf of bread. Be gentle but firm, so the tofu doesn’t disintegrate, and try to get each slice a little less than a quarter of an inch thick. You probably have enough tamari and yeast to fry the whole block if you want, so cut off as many slices as you plan on eating; two or three is a good for a sandwich or a breakfast side, and one or two is enough to crumble over an individual salad.

Heat up a skillet or a frying pan. You can heat a little of that vegetable oil in there too, if you want–no more than a teaspoon. You can fry without the oil, but it does distribute the heat better than the tamari, so you’re less likely to wind up with little black spots.

Lay each slice flat in the tamari; turn it over several times so it’s covered well, but you don’t have to marinade it. You just want it wet.

Lay those slices in the brewer’s yeast, like you’re breading them (because you are). Do this quickly but well, because the yeast will absorb the sauce and fall off the tofu in clumps if you wait around.

Lay carefully in the skillet and fry until browned. Flip several times to avoid scorching, especially if you’re not using oil, but be careful to avoid the aforementioned clumping problem.

You’ll probably have to add more brewer’s yeast, because it tends to soak up drops of tamari and solidify so it won’t stick to the tofu. Be liberal with both sauce and yeast–they’re providing the flavor. One hunk of tofu serves three to four.

The Lady in the Next Cube is gone, either fired or transferred. Her place has been cleared out except for an empty datebook and an old McDonald’s toy (one of hundreds she used to have). It’s a sad day. I knew her name, but I’m not sure she ever knew mine.

Fairly important thingy

I’ve talked before about my “secret writing project,” which hasn’t been all that secret, since it was easy to find if you explored NewsBruiser’s navigation at all, and anyway I told a bunch of people about it. I’ve never actually described it here, though, and that’s what this is.

Anacrusis. One hundred and one words, five days a week, for almost a year. I posted my two hundredth entry there last Friday, and today–its big debut–is the two hundred and first. I’ve missed a week here and there, and one month during The Great Web Host Debacle of last fall, but overall I’ve been pretty regular and I’m getting better. I hope those continue to be true.

If you’re interested, you can hit that random link a few times to get an idea of what it’s like. I hope you enjoy them. That’s where most of my creative energy has gone while I’ve been not drawing my comic; I’m nervous about this, but it’s been almost a year, and I think I’m about ready for an audience.

I’ve been staying mum about it, because I didn’t want to jinx it like last time, but I have now actually won a round of BlogNomic. I’m quite puffy with pride, although I couldn’t have done it alone.

If you’re at all interested in malleable gaming, I think you should join BlogNomic now–I’m going to put a lot of effort into making this round fun. All you have to do is post a comment on one of the more recent entries, stating your name, your wish and your email address, and we’ll get right to you.

After about a year, it finally occurred to me that I work in a cubicle, a space that is in its very nature designed to be modular. I’ve never really liked the way things were arranged in here. Today, I did something about it.

After about an hour of work, some sweat and some very odd looks, my forty-two square feet of space are now much more accommodating. I moved a big cabinet and some shelves I never used into an empty cube nearby, and wiped away a lot of accumulated dust. It feels bigger and lighter, and my workstation is finally in such a position that nobody can sneak up on me while I’m sitting at it. Or walk by and notice that I’m typing in my online journal instead of working. The downside to this is that I may occasionally have to make eye contact with the humans now, but this is a small price to pay.

I can actually use my whiteboard now. I’ve never decorated the walls of this place in any way, as my little symbolic refusal to be a cube-drone; I still don’t know if I will. But this does feel a little more like my own place now.

Inertia is a strange thing. I feel like I just built a house.

I have a new cell phone. I’m not really happy about this.

On the one hand, my family and I have had a chronic problem with going over our minutes, partly because we were all sharing the same plan and Ian and I used a lot more than Mom and Caitlan. We only had 800 minutes between the four of us, which didn’t work out that well. So it’s nice that Ian and I have our own plan, so Ian can ruin my credit instead of Mom’s. Also we have twice as many minutes to use, and now that I have Cingular unlimited wireless-to-wireless, I should be using significantly fewer minutes anyway.

On the other hand:

  • I have to transfer all my contacts from Layla. Manually.
  • This new phone is not Layla; it seems flimsier and less shiny, and definitely can’t be used as a flashlight.
  • One nice thing is that it doesn’t have a broken extendable antenna. Then again, it doesn’t have an extendable antenna at all, so when I have bad reception there’s not a lot I can do.
  • Oh, and the new phone is not red.
  • Plus its keypad buttons are that annoying two-in-one rocker style, which makes it more difficult to use without looking.
  • And there aren’t as many of them, which means reduced functionality.
  • But I can google from my pocket! Which is something I’ve always wanted to do.
  • But that’s going to end up costing me a lot of money, at a cent per kilobyte.

I don’t know, maybe I’ll learn to like it. I did with Layla. I still have Layla, in fact, although she doesn’t connect to anything anymore. I’ll probably take her battery out once I’ve got all my contacts and stuff transferred, to use as a backup, since it’s the same kind as the new one.

In many ways I still hate having a cell phone, but I’d grudgingly accepted Layla. This newcomer is not so easy to handle. I feel like a friend has moved away, and a smaller, more annoying person has taken her place.

The new phone does J2ME apps, though. I better get cracking if I’m going to port rfk.

This is pretty gross

Before I was born, my father had surgery for periodontic disease. They gave him a local anaesthetic, cut his gums open, pulled the flaps up above his teeth, and used metal tools to scrape away the dead tissue underneath before sewing them up again.

I’m a six-year veteran of badly administered braces, and I’ve had five regular teeth pulled plus four badly impacted wisdom molars. I am no stranger to dental horror, but I really want to avoid the above experience. Thus it was that yesterday, I began flossing.

It makes me feel old and boring, and when I swish water around in my mouth, it feels like my teeth have shrunk.

Jon and Amanda are married!

Last night I went to my first-ever rehearsal dinner–pancakes at Cracker Barrel, followed by a leisurely visit and then a hesitant drive to the chapel out in the middle of Shelby County. It was hard to find, but deservedly so: it’s a gorgeous spot, and somehow entirely cicada-free.

I got to host Jon’s bachelor party, which consisted of coming back here with Ken, Chris and me and watching A Mighty Wind and laughing a lot. We throw some pretty wild parties.

This morning Ken kindly picked up Maria and me and drove us back to the aforementioned chapel, where we took pictures (one of Jon’s WWE-style entrance, one of Amanda’s, and then some less important ones) and waited.

Eventually there was a wedding. The bride wore flip-flops, and the reverend’s microphone kept fuzzing out. It was sunny, and outside, and butterflies kept zooming through the service. Amanda and Jon were very beautiful, and I’m so proud and happy that for this little while, I don’t even miss them.

Have I mentioned yet that I’m done with school? I’m done with school, as of the day after my birthday. I ended up with two Bs and a C, balancing the two Bs and an A from last semester, and finish my first year of postgraduate education with a pristinely average 3.00. I did some complete crap work, in places, this spring; I got thoroughly and undeservingly rogered in others. It all balances out, in 3.00 Land.

One more year of this and I’m done with school forever. Whoof. I am ready for that.