Been pretty busy lately working on a top secret documentary project for the Capitol Area FoodBank’s Farm to School Week. Well, maybe not so top secret anymore but it’s my first Storiography project for the Foodbank. It involves 50 pics, 50 quotes, and some brilliant design. You’ll have to stay tuned for more but here’s a couple of teaser photos to keep you interested:

Delaware farmer David Marvel delivering watermelon, broccoli, cauliflower and apples to CentroNia in Mount Pleasant.

FoodBank volunteers slicing up apples for the apple taste test at the Cook-Off event.

A Savoy Elementary is emphatic about announcing his favorite vegetable to Sam Kass: “Broccoli!!!!”

Deputy Secretary of Agriculture Kathleen Merrigan chatting with Cook-off Chef Lauren Von Der Pool.

Oliver Friendly of Eat and Smile Foods and his sous chef, chopping up ingredients for apple-cabbage slaw.

Taste-test winner Chef Tee (of U Street’s Creme Café) tossing fried apples.

Bill Yosses interviewing a TMA sous-chef.

Chef Will Artley’s sous-chef breaking eggs into a stand mixer.

A member of TMA’s Green Club planting new seedlings in the school garden.

I even bumped into old friends – Jeff Wolfram, an architectural photographer that I’ve assisted from time to time and Ed Bruske, auteur of The Slow Cook and the man to talk about school food around here. I also made some new friends, including Jessica Sidman, who publishes a blog about frozen desserts called The Frozen Fix. I will totally be making her Coconut Ginger Sorbet next summer.

But you don’t care about that. What you really want are pictures of the fooooooood. Very well – I give you little, fat cubes of pork belly.

The ingredients Chef Aaron put together are all local, including the pickled tomatoes he used as garnish. They were made from tomatoes grown right in the restaurant’s garden. This, obviously, is totally rad and completely in line with my thinking about food.

While Aaron prepped the pork belly offsite, there was an incredible amount of onsite preparation that went into the final presentation. It starts here with the pork belly being friend in a skillet with some of the ketchup and then being transferred to a plate to await garnishes as below.

The garnishes included the aforementioned pickled tomatoes, micro cress (I had never seen these before – adorable! And actually quite tasty.), and a pepper cracker. Crackers and pork belly, I hear you ask? As my grandmother would say, “Just eat it!*”

This is a horrible photograph, I know. But it tasted really good, I promise! I know it to be true but I can’t take decent photographs while doing anything else and I was really preoccupied with yakking with folks about my recipe and how awesome Aaron had made it.

Chef Aaron explaining the dish to one of the judges. It probably went something like this:

“Green tomatoes tend to be acidic. To balance that, we add a fatty piece of sheer goodness (AKA pork belly). Then, we pickle some green tomatoes to add some more acidity/sweetness while pairing the ketchup components. Then, we need a little textural crunch element to cut through the mostly soft components. So, we add a little salad of micro pepper cress. This has a very crisp, peppery bite to it. Then, we add a flat bread cracker that will be full of pepper to add more texture and add a classic tomato pairing like black pepper.”

I might be a little biased but I thought it was delicious. It was not only really popular with the East Asian contingent – two different woman told me nearly word-for-word: “You can never go wrong with pork belly.” – but also very popular with the male contingent of the evening’s festivities. One guy, stated very seriously, “This is the best thing here. If the announcers ever give me the microphone, this is all I’m talking about.” Another guy, after hearing the judges’ final results, said, “You guys were robbed. Yours is the best stuff here.”

And then they had to pop my head to get it out of the Pavilion Hall. Heh.

Actually what she would say was “You don’t have to like it, you just have to eat it.” Which I could never come back with a witty retort for, honestly. Hopefully my kids will show me the way.

Of course, I’m still vacillating between chuckling inwardly that my green fruit recipe won a final spot at the Red Fruit Fest and OHMYGODIMGONNABEONSTAGEWITHAFAMOUSCHEF!!!!!1111.

Heh. Wow.

“I’m giving up soda.” he replied.

A complete non-soda drinker, I snorted. “You probably don’t even like soda.”

I could never look at anyone as earnestly as Marcos looked at me and said, “Oh no, I LOVE soda. I drink it ALL THE TIME.”

A look of powerful longing crossed his face and he paused for a moment, lost in reverie for forbidden soda. Behind their square black frames, his dark eyes refocused on mine and he said firmly and quietly.

“It’s really hard.”

On my way back to my desk, I realized two things: 1. Marcos was totally hot but WAY too religious for me and 2. I was jealous of his steadfast dedication to his religious beliefs.

I’ve never considered myself a religious person. I attended a Catholic school (begrudgingly, at best) for 6 years but always felt that religion had too many strangely specific rules and therefore, too many loopholes. The whole transubstantiation thing, for instance. As Eddie Izzard pointed out during this monologue, how is it not vampirism and cannibalism?

The idea that the Catholic Church is really an elaborate front for an archaic cannibalistic, vampiric cult was exactly the sort of thing that fueled my obnoxious questions in sixth grade theology class. My teacher then didn’t even dignify it with a response and the question still remains unanswered nearly thirty years later. Which is not really so much of a big deal anymore – the question I’d rather have answered is one that asks why such an elaborate ritual is needed to celebrate the sacrifice of one man’s life to show many others a potentially better way of living their lives? Isn’t it amazing enough that one man was able to trump 30 years of societal & religious programming to truly be himself?

Although perhaps the real lesson here is that society/religion will ultimately eliminate those who don’t stay in line but that is a post for another day…

Back to Lent.

So, I’ve been thinking about giving something up for Lent. Mainly as an exercise in self-discipline, self-control and self-love.

Huh? I hear you say.. How does denying yourself something show self-love? Especially something yummy and comforting?!

In the interest of levity and avoidance of backpedaling, let me just say that sometimes the relationships we cling to most tightly are the ones that are bad for us. And by we and us, I mean I. And by bad relationships, I mean sweets.

Some of you who read my blog might have noticed that there are a lot of dessert recipes on it. It seems obvious that I enjoy dessert. Except that I don’t really. It just gets me through the day.

Some people can’t get through the day without six cups of coffee. Or several cans of Red Bull. Or a bottle of wine. Or two packs of cigarettes. Or three hours in the gym. Or compulsive sex. Or cocaine.

My drug of choice is chocolate. Especially if combined with copious amounts of eggs, flour and sugar. When life has whipped me into a frantic frenzy, my hands itch for a fork or a sack of cheap chocolate candy to shovel into my anxious mouth. Taste isn’t important – in fact, the better something tastes, the more it brings me back into the painful present. I want something that dulls the present and its fearful pain and nothing reassures my lizard brain that I’m sufficiently fueled for fight or flight more than the powerful combination of fat and sugar.

To be honest, my life is not really that painful on a meta scale. I’m doing exactly what I want on my own terms. I have a circle of wonderful friends, family, and neighbors. I’m happy with my life and myself and optimistic about the future. There’s just this fear I have sometimes – about money, about security, about kids, about being loved, about disrespect – ok it’s a lot of fears. And they tend to pop up fairly often, especially over the last two years.

And speaking of the last two years: To say these past two years have been educational is a huge understatement but jeez, if someone had just told me I should just enjoy throwing my money, time and resources into the ravenous, gaping maw of 2008 and 2009, the ride would have been A LOT easier. In hindsight, I can definitely say that riding a bucking bronco is not the time to start worrying about the price of that cowboy hat that just flew off your head. Just hang on and enjoy the ride…

That’s how the whole experience/wisdom works, right? You do the time, you get the wisdom. kthxbai.

So, for the next 40 days (or so) of Lent, here’s to learning to enjoy the bucking bronco ride of human existence without the crack. (And secretly hoping that some of you have your own personal crack stories to share about Lent.)

Setup info: Canon EOS 5D with ST-E2 transmitter. 200 sec @ f/4.5, ISO 100. 580EXII @1/8th power bounced off wall to camera left.

I strengthened a lot of old friendships and made some new ones, grew (and ate!) a lot of my own vegetables and herbs, did my finest work to date, participated in my first photography exhibition and presented about teaching in Japan to three very different audiences in DC and Maryland.

I started singing again, signed up for a triathlon and fell in love with cycling again. I babysat a greyhound, participated in a focus group about running a small business in DC, had a complete screaming fangirl moment with Joel Salatin and watched our first African-American president take the oath of office from the National Mall.

2009 was a really bad year for me too:

I struggled financially, lost repeatedly to personal demons, questioned my work and my focus repeatedly, railed bitterly against the Gods Insensitive and Unfair, and cried over love and friendship lost.

2009 was a year that forced me to lose some independence, to rely on others for guidance, for help, and for reassurance. For everyone who lent me an ear, bought me a meal, passed my name onto a friend, offered a kind word or an honest critique, I am eternally grateful. I needed all these things so many times this year – more than I care to admit and you were always there for me.

I’m sure you were just in it for the food but I appreciate it nonetheless ;)

I hope that I was there for you when you needed me and that I’ll be there when you need me in the future. I hope you’re celebrating this last week of 2009 in whatever way makes you happy and I wish you all the best in 2010!

Or I will hound you. Incessantly.

Brazen exhibitionist that I am, I immediately volunteered to present at the opening night reception. I’ve actually given this presentation a couple of times but it was especially nice to give to a crowd with a good concentration of native Japanese folks. One of the nicest comments I got was from Ayako Smethurst, Program Coordinator for the JET Program at the Japanese Embassy, who said that the photographs transported her back to her own elementary and junior high days in Japan. So there you have it: independent verification that my stuff is the real deal.

Or should I say, #theRealDeal.

The event was recorded and I hope to have a video link for you shortly. In meantime, here’s my presentation in so many words and pictures:

The first thing I had to learn was how to take off and put on my shoes quickly and gracefully without sitting down or using my hands. A clear line between inside and outside can be seen throughout Japanese culture. These are courtesy slippers laid out for visitors to wear inside the school on Graduation Day.

The second thing I had to learn was how to respond positively to the typical reaction foreigners get from kids (and sometimes adults!) in Japan. This is first-grade Tomohiro after our first class together.

I also learned that my schools were tasked with instilling and maintaining a uniform sense of “Japanese-ness” in not just the students but their language, their behavior and even their physical appearance. Which 2nd grade Haruka (or likely her parents) are attempting to redefine with her dyed brown hair.

To build global cultural awareness, I did a lot of typical American cultural activities in class, like making Valentine’s Day cards. I let the kids decorate the cards however they wished – the girls would cover theirs with cute animals and rainbows, the boys with guns, robots, and Pokemon.

I also did a lot of roleplaying activities in class. Japanese theatre has a long tradition of men playing women’s roles that continues today. I find this photo of 6th grade boys playing with some of roleplaying props after class an interesting analogue.

On the left is Saki, in the fourth grade. Students are taught that the keys to success are discipline and practice, practice, practice. Every day at recess, while other students careened around her on the blacktop on their unicycles, Saki would rock back and forth in place until she could balance perfectly, even at a standstill.

Students also learn respect for nature and the environment at school. In the 2nd grade, it seemed like all my students, including the girls, went through a phase of keeping insects as pets. This is third grade Tsubasa with his new pet, a praying mantis he had just discovered on the playground.

Teachers work long hours in Japan. A typical teacher’s weekday would begin at 7am and end around 6pm, although the school day officially ends at 5pm when the students go home. Teachers also work weekends as sports coaches, chaperone at town festivals and events, and escort students to high school entrance exams and academic contests. Here, the junior high science teacher catches 40 winks at his desk after a full day of graduation events.

Japan is a vertical society with the older members responsible for transmitting knowledge to the younger (and ostensibly, obedient) members. Here, at an all-school carnival, 5th grade Hiroki shows 3rd grade Akio how to shoot a rubber band gun while, in the background 5th grade Natsuka guides 2nd grade Ruka into position.

Sports Day is one of the biggest events of the school year. Students spend over a month practicing relays, making costumes and learning dances. Here, you can clearly see the vertical hierarchy with teachers on the right setting an example for the 6th graders in the middle who, in turn, are leading the whole school in opening warm-up exercises.

Schools are also tasked with teaching students teamwork and how to function harmoniously in groups. Consequently, baton-pass relay races figure prominently into Sports Day. Each grade has their own relay – here are the 4th graders passing the baton in their final lap.

It is said in Japan that the only real friends you have are the ones you made in grade school. I think this is especially true for students in small rural communities who generally graduate from junior high school with the same 20-30 classmates they entered kindergarten with.

The final performance at junior high Sports Day is a circle dance choreographed by the 9th graders. As Sports Day is the last major school event before they enter what is commonly known as “high school entrance exam hell,” this is one of the last times for these kids to be truly happy and carefree at school.

The next three slides are examples of unique challenges I faced teaching English in Japan. Students who refuse to speak at school, like Miku here in the second grade, are not unusual. How could I make speaking English fun for a student who didn’t even want to speak her own language?

I also had a number of students who didn’t attend school regularly, like Aoi here in the 6th grade. She was isolated from her peers and awkward in group environments. How could I encourage her to participate in and enjoy group activities in English class?

These twins were diagnosed with autism and attention deficit disorder. They absolutely adored curry rice and Nintendo games and could take about both for hours. So we did. In English.

The boy on the right is ashamed. He’s refusing to join his classmates in a graduating class picture because, unlike them, he hasn’t gotten into a high school yet. High school attendance is not mandatory in Japan and competition for schools in the rural countryside where students have few options, is fierce.

This is the final procession at graduation. Non-graduating students and teachers form a human tunnel called the “hana-michi,” which means “flower road.” Here, it symbolizes how each student, like Ayaka above flashing double peace signs to her mom’s video camera, has blossomed and is ready to move on to the next stage in life.

These students are getting ready for school dismissal. Every day after school, regardless of weather, all students would gather in the school courtyard to listen to announcements from teachers. During these announcements, they were expected to stand neatly and silently in rows and listen attentively. But in the ten minutes or so it would take the entire school body to come together with their hats, coats, backpacks, artwork, science projects, homework, PE uniforms, etc., they’re just regular kids – free to relax and play. (This incidentally, is the photograph that was chosen for the exhibition)

A note: my favorite part of this picture is the discarded glove in the lower left. Wherever there be kids, there are also discarded gloves (and socks and hats and pencils and..)

We started the evening with three signature martinis. The one below is fittingly called “My Favorite Sweater” and is a wonderfully sweet fruity thing lovingly wrapped in warm cinnamon tones.

And what would an evening tipple be without some cheese? Lansdowne put out a selection of three cheeses, accompanied by various jams and figs. The entire evening course included an incredible amount of locally sourced foods – including the cheese below, which came from a Virginia dairy.

After getting to know each other a bit and sharing thoughts about drinks and cheese, we migrated into the private dining room for the seven course Fall menu. The first course was a pair of two soups (see top photo) – Lobster Bisque on the left and the rather fancy-sounding “Celery Root and Heirloom Apple Vanilla Foam” on the right. The Lobster Bisque was rich and salty but I wanted to curl up and sleep inside the Celery Root and Apple soup cup – it smelled and tasted just like liquified turkey stuffing.

Sadly, cornbread was not a course. But it was gooooood. And Lansdowne gets serious props for putting it in their bread basket. (I wish more restaurants did this!) The second course was a squash tasting, followed by a salad of locally grown Bibb lettuce with onions, pears, blue cheese dressing and, here’s the best part: HOMEMADE BACON.

Next up was probably my favorite dish of the evening – “Pan Roasted American Sturgeon with Citrus-Herb Butter, Sauté of Fall Mushrooms and Leeks, and Potato Brunoise.” Chef Wes Rosati explained that the fish comes from sustainable fishery distributor Cleanfish. Three years in Japan have turned me into a huge fish snob; I was completely prepared to be underwhelmed by this dish. But I loved it, and not just because it was sitting on a treasure trove of leeks, potatoes, and mushrooms.

In addition to smoking their own bacon, Lansdowne also smoked a variety of other meats, including the “sticky” short ribs they serve in their surf and turf below.

Last up was the ribeye. I’m not a steak girl but I liked this – it was simple, unfussy and served with all the right stuff: green beans, roasted shallots, and steak fries. Oh, and drizzled with brandy sauce – yum!

Dessert was a trio of handmade(!) ice creams (from front to back below): mint chocolate chip, earl grey, and german chocolate fudge. They were all incredible (the mint chocolate was refreshing and light, the earl grey was smooth and slightly smoky with subtle bergamot and citrus tones) but the german chocolate fudge was OH. MY. GOD. LUSCIOUS. Creamy, rich, dense, just the right amount of chocolate and punctuated with lovely little fudge bits. I was completely stuffed when they brought the ice cream out but I ate all of the GCF anyway.

Firsthand plug: Lansdowne Resort is more than just amazing and (largely) locally sourced food. It’s also a beautiful golf course, hiking paradise, base camp for winery hopping, soothing spa, full staffed event center, wedding venue, and amazing summer pool complex. It’s close enough to DC that the drive won’t wear you out and far enough that it feels like a vacation, especially combined with a spa visit, room service, a relaxing stroll on the trail, and a dip (or, if you’re a water nut like me, many dips) in the pool.

Full Disclosure: I was paid to take some pictures of this event for Lansdowne’s promotion use. I wasn’t paid to write this blog post nor was I invited to the event to promote it myself. I’m only showing you these pictures to make you jealous.

TEDx events follow the TED format but are independently and locally organized. They are largely a volunteer effort – the speakers are unpaid and many of the organizers and supporters (myself included) are unpaid as well.

Last Thursday, I photographed the very first TEDx event in this area – TEDxMidAtlantic, which was held at the MICA’s Brown Center in Baltimore.

I encourage you to have a look at the entire set of all 429 photographs on Flickr here. If 429 seems like a lot of photographs, scroll down for my favorites below of each presenter below.

e3bank Chairman Sandy Wiggins

Security researcher Marcus J. Ramun

NPR reporter Scott Simon

Polyface Farms’ Owner and Sustainable Agriculture Advocate Joel Salatin

2003 Nobel Prize winner Peter Agre

Chief Technology Officer Aneesh Chopra

Artist & activist Naomi Natale

Multimedia sculptor Ico Bukvic

Director of Food & Nutrition for Baltimore City Public Schools Tony Geraci

ReWIRED for Change founder & performer Sonja Sohn

Walters Art Museum Manuscript & Rare Book Curator Will Noel

Entreprenuer Mark Walsh

Director of the American Visionary Art Museum Rebecca Hoffberger

Harris Chair of economics and NYTimes columnist Tyler Cowen

Singer & songwriter John Forté

Photojournalist, teacher & author Karen Kasmauski

JHU Senior Advisor Aris Melissaratos

Tai Sophia Institute President Bob Duggan

JHU professor, researcher & author Roland Griffiths

Classical guitarist Ana Vidovic