Wedding and Birds

Back from my 2-month blogging hiatus, and I don't have much to report. Life goes on in its non-blog-relevant ways. Carnival, RI Gala, obscene amounts of retail therapy, seeing old friends, discovering simple pleasures... We hosted 2 big dinners: one Indonesian theme with R and 6 of the guys, one major fondue party with the Grey's Anatomy crowd. Hubs went from being ambiguously in his mid-20s to definitively in his late-20s, though he denies that he's any older than 21.

Ben got hitched this weekend. The bride is from Taiwan, and she had an entourage of 30 or so family members that are here just for their American wedding. They already had a big affair in Taiwan, maybe even two. Hubs was a groomsman, just as Ben was a groomsman at our wedding. Between them flipping roles, the relatives from afar, little things lost in translation, and the multiple ceremonies, it was like I was at my own wedding again. It's the cliche of two people from opposite ends of the globe falling in love, much like the Mastercard 'priceless' commercial, but it's such a complicated brew of emotions and it's weird to be able to say I've been there.

Anyway, it was beautiful. The ceremony was at the famous Heinz Chapel, and the reception was at the Pittsburgh Athletic Association. When I wasn't ushering, I toted my little Drebel around.


Heinz Chapel and the magnificent stained glass


E's tux and bout, and the bridal party's flowers







I was miffed at my (cheap) zoom lens because I missed a number of good shots. If I had glass with IS, I could've rocked da hizouse. Of course, I'd rather not pay the price... you get what you pay for.

Much to my amusement, E was actually hung over at the wedding. He had a little too much with the guys the night before, and unbeknownst to the bride and groom, he was sick as a dog all throughout the wedding. (Thank goodness he didn't make a scene at the altar.) Of course, the guys sniggered and hi-fived when they saw E and his 32oz. bottle of Gatorade. Nice job, boys.

The wedding was in the afternoon; we took a short break after the reception and headed to Harris Grill with the gang for supper. By this time, E's liver was ready for more, so we went down to Soba Lounge for martinis, then back to PHI. Went to Pamela's for brunch the next morning, before everyone parted ways. Now we're just waiting for another wedding to have our next reunion!

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Went to the National Aviary this afternoon. It was my first time, and unfortunately it was a let-down despite all the hype I've heard. Still sore about my telephoto lens, I decided to get some practice. Got some good shots:





And my favorite:

The penguin was taking a stroll among giants - it was being escorted by staff and curious visitors to its exhibit, I think. Odd but cute.

Now that the sun's out for good, the bike trainer takes a back seat to the open road. Brought the bike out for a ride today - 12 miles through Schenley onto the Eliza Furnace Trail and back again. One of the guys at work has been nagging me to bike to work with him, and the office is just a bridge more from the end of the trail. I felt good today, and I think I may be ready to beat the morning traffic with my silver stead soon. We rounded the evening with Greek food and a hearty smoothie.

Long weekends make the first day back at work suck. Bedtime!

Escapades

Been giddy with happiness all week.

* The boys had a BBQ fundraiser on Wednesday; we graced it with our geezerly presence. Dinner was a hot dog and a burger, and lots of great conversation.
* Watched Riverdance live on Thursday. It was hubby's first time, my second. Six years ago, I scraped together everything I had in my piggy bank to see it on Broadway in NYC. I still remember the seedy hotel in Manhattan where I stayed (it's what I imagine a nice POW camp would be like), walking around city block upon city block foraging for food, sitting in the back of the plane on the red-eye to LaGuardia, and being completely mesmerized by the dancers on stage when I was finally in the theater. Overall a sucky experience except for the show, which was what I was there for anyway. (It was also my first and last time in the WTC; 9/11 happened 3 weeks later.) Anyway, I was really glad E finally got to see it; he claimed to have always been fond of Celtic music. It looked like a smaller production than the Broadway version (due to a smaller stage), but I enjoyed the flamenco numbers and the dance-off a lot more this time.

By Friday I wasn't just giddy with happiness; I was squealing with joy. On a whim, we decided to drive down to DC for the opening of the 95th annual Cherry Blossom Festival. This would be the third sakura matsuri we've been to, but the first that we've gone at the beginning. It's been a while since we went away for a weekend, and it was a much needed break from the routine.

250+ miles and some highway adventures later, we met up with Ed, Fonda, Jen, Maria, Mike, and 2 of Mike's friends at Mie N Yu in Georgetown. We mingled among the urban sophisticates and took a tour of the place (they have a freakin' Bird Cage!) before shimmying on to Third Edition. Midori Sour in hand, we parked for a while on the rooftop patio by the tiki bar, checking out the beautiful people through the corners of our eyes. The DJ rocked. The dance floor was a mosh pit. At one point, some dude started dancing with me (as people are bound to do in clubs), but Ed (not hubby!) told him to beat it. Too bad, cos I was having fun, and I'm glad E let me have some fun too.

We stayed till closing; it was about 3am and people spilled out into the streets like bees being smoked out of their hives. We parted ways and by the time we got back to Maria's, it was about 4am. Woot!

Saturday: Late start. Rolled out of bed, showered, and got ready for a full day of sight-seeing. Aaron joined us at the metro station; we caught up on each other's lives during the ride to the Smithsonian. Like veritable tourists - camera bag, sunglasses, maps - we trekked down to the monument where the Kite Festival (Tako-age Taikai) took place. People were spread out in every direction on picnic mats, kids running around, little kites and big kites puttering along the grass and soaring in the sky... It was beautiful.






Big lizard kite - I get such a kick out of this picture because it looks like a lizard sticker on a postcard :)


Kite in the sky

Walking around on an empty stomach really worked up an appetite, so we made a quick detour to Chinatown for a bowl of noodles before heading to the National Building Museum at Judiciary Sq. E really wanted to take a picture with the women in kimonos, but even with goading from Maria, none of us had the guts to ask them. Somehow, though, I ended up in a picture with them.


Optical illusion: Between Aaron and E, I look like a midget, but with the Japanese women I felt like a big clumsy ogre.

We spent a good deal of time figuring out directions to our dinner venue, Sushi-Ko. It's the oldest sushi house in Washington, located at the northern end of Georgetown, and I figured it would be appropriate. I've been nutty excited about this place and made reservations for 6.30pm, so when we were lost in Dupont Circle at 6.25pm, I was a little frantic. Still... everything worked out.

We ordered a bottle of 'Snow Beauty' nigori (unfiltered) sake and, in a bold moment of fiscal recklessness, I ordered the omakase. The courses were:
1. Smoked salmon and ikura in lemon dressing
2. Miso soup with oysters
3. Lobster tail with ponzu sauce and sliced avocado
4. Nigiri sushi (including a raw-ish shrimp one - a first for me)
5. Mussels in (?)
6. Creme Brulee/sweet beancurd/flan

It was heavenly. I can't say I've had very many six-course meals, and even though the servings were petite and artful, I was stuffed by the end.


Hubby: "If we're gonna pay this much for the meal, we're going to take a picture, dammit!" That's me picking up my nigiri gingerly.

It started getting chilly after dinner; we huddled at the bus stop as we waited to be whisked back to the metro station. Upon returning to the Mall, I realized we had completely missed the Lantern Walk, but we enjoyed strolling around the Tidal Basin anyway.

(Man, I really should get to bed.) Finally, some pictures of the star of this weekend:



Click on the images to view a larger image

Recipe

It's funny growing up in a polyglot household. My mum sent me a recipe for pineapple tarts (my childhood favorite, and now one of hubby's too) - it was originally published in Indonesian, but fearing my tenuous grasp of my mothertongue will cause a serious botch-up of the recipe, she translated it into my other mothertongue, even though she knows I'm going to translate it all into English anyway. (For the record, I fare reasonably well comprehending both languages, but I'd have to squint and pause for longer than I'd like. Success in a kitchen is all about expediency.)


Nastar (Pineapple Tarts)

Ingredients:
200g butter
3 egg yolks
50g powdered sugar
1 Tbs milk powder
250g plain all-purpose flour
25g corn flour
1/2 pineapple, crushed
100g sugar
2cm cinnamon stick
1 egg white, beaten

1. Cook the crushed pineapple until the liquid boils off. Stir in the sugar and cinnamon.
2. Mix the butter, powdered sugar, egg yolks, and milk powder until smooth.
3. In a separate bowl, combine the plain flour with the corn flour. Add the flour mixture evenly into the butter mixture, removing any lumps.
4. Using a spoon, roll the dough to form a cup and fill with the pineapple pulp mix. Seal into a ball and smooth the edges.
5. Grease and flour a baking pan. Place the tarts carefully in the pan and brush the tops with egg white. Bake for 20 minutes in 350 degrees F or until golden brown.

* Disclaimer: No responsibility shall be claimed for pineapple tarts gone wrong from any misinterpretation of the original recipe.

EDIT:
It came out great! Messy and a bit of a chore, but yummy. Corn flour = cornstarch. I reduced the amount of sugar, like I do with every recipe. The glazing doesn't quite work for me. Anyway, here it is...

Another weekend recap

Friday: Asian pear martini + mojito + honey wine! Not a bad way to start the weekend. Hung out with the Obi's again.

Saturday: Dinner with P and T; had a close encounter of the baby kind. T is 7 months along and we talked about everything from morning sickness to shape-shifting bellies to saying "heck" to the name game with the in-laws and naming the kid Zorton.

Sunday: Either I'm getting lazy, or I think pictures do a much better job than I can.

Phipps Conservatory

For years, it's been one of our favorite places to visit (and coincidentally, where we got married). They added a new tropical rainforest exhibit, which looks fab. Can't wait for the rest of the additions to be completed.






Thai spirit house in the rainforest exhibit


The rainforest exhibit

When we got home, we had fondue for dinner, then E curled up on the futon for some reading. Reading's a lot more fun with some company:

Boy Meets Pittsburgh

Beautiful and sunny... I never believed in Punxsutawney Phil, but spring did come early.

We went down to the Point and strolled along the water. It was deserted - just the sun, seagulls, and us.

Cats and Bags

How to Catch A Cat

E was gone most of the week for a conference. Before he left, he was distracted preparing for a 3-hr long workshop to promote his software, so it feels like he's been gone a week.

It was quiet in the house. I puttered around in the kitchen fixing gourmet meals for myself two of the days, watched TV, surfed the web, read in bed. For 4 days, I was sole guardian of the cats. When E's around, he'd feed them and scoop the litter, and I would play with them. Not that I couldn't do those things either... feeding was easy. 1 cup, 2 cats, twice a day. Once in a while I've to make sure Salty doesn't stick his nose in Pepper's chow.

In the mornings it gets a little tricky. P & S scratch, claw, jump, nibble, trample, and do pretty much anything to get our attention, in the name of breakfast. By 6.30am, E would give up and roll out of bed, with the patience of a saint, and lovingly dole out their kibbles before climbing back into bed. When I have to be up in less than an hour, it's harder to keep a good humor about it. To protect my beauty sleep in my kitty-feeding aide's absence, I decided to keep the whining brats in the office downstairs. I enjoy the fuzzy company when I read in bed at night, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

The charming thing about a townhouse that predates even my grandparents' births is that over the years, the walls have warped ever so slightly that none, and I mean none, of the doors close the way they should. (Except the front door, of course.) It does wonderful things for our sense of privacy. At best, you can wedge a door shut by pulling it tightly against the frame, but the latch doesn't do anything. The problem is compounded by the fact that of the doors that close, the cats have figured out how to open them, and can sashay in and out wherever they please (imagine my near-heart attacks stepping out of the shower). All... except for the office door (dun dun dun!) So right before bed, for 3 evenings, I play hide-and-seek with the cats, trying to cajole/trick them into following me, the Pied Piper, so I can quarantine them behind the single closed door for the night.

Making a cat come to you isn't easy, and I don't feel good about resorting to trickery. Salty had to think it was playtime (his fuzzy toy with bells coyly slithers into the office...). Pepper had to think it was mealtime - I open the closet door where we keep the cat food, and instead of scooping up kitten chow, she gets scooped up (and lets out a confused "meow?") and tossed into the office. In the mornings, when I finally release them from 'prison', they meow frantically for breakfast and attention. I fill their bowls, and peace is restored.

E's back, much to the cats' relief - everything's back to normal. No more crazy woman trying to lock them up.

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I finally finished The Time Traveler's Wife. Amazing story, I gotta make E read it. At the third to last page, the floodgates opened and I started bawling. All of a sudden, I could feel Clare's emptiness and loss, I missed Henry deeply for her. I loved the ending, and I loved that when I finally put down the book, everything made sense despite the inherently illogical plot. Very satisfying read. Now I'm afraid I might not enjoy Love in The Time of Cholera as much - it may be written by a literary master, but it's got a bit to live up to.

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Bag-O-Rama

Went shopping with Liz on Saturday - my last girly hurrah before the hubby returned. We must've walked into more than a dozen stores. She's now well-equipped for the spring/summer, and I procured for myself not one, but two bags: a utilitarian Ann Taylor brown leather shoulder tote, and a cute petite black Coach satchel. A bag for all reasons and seasons! I've never been into bags until the last year; I'm slowly unleashing the inner bag diva and embracing the bag lady in me.

It's nice to have E home again. As much as I enjoyed having time alone, I did miss him. Now if you'll excuse me, we have some catching up to do.... >;)