When I read the instructions for preparing orzo, I was a little taken aback.
Orzo is sometimes referred to as “Italian rice.” And rice, I know, absorbs the liquid it’s cooked in. So, when the instructions called for 2 quarts of water to cook 1 cup of orzo, I was a little confused. With a water to orzo ratio of 8:1, thoughts of football-size orzo grains popped into my head.
Fortunately, I read the rest of the directions, and noticed …
Coffeecake may be a bit of a misnomer, but I’m not complaining. Coffeecake is one of the ultimate comfort desserts or snacks, a perfect combination of cinnamon and moist cake to accompany a hot coffee or chai tea latte (in my case) , on a cold wintry morning. Indeed, this coffeecake comes together so quickly and effortlessly, it might be ready in the time it takes…
Despite its relative utility, chemistry never held much sway. Instead of chemical compounds and balanced equations, I preferred studying the subjunctive tense for être and avoir, or drawing the shape of parabolic curves, or studying the machinations of medieval European princes. Even looking at plant cells seemed more interesting than mixing chemicals.
Admittedly, some of my classmates saw things differently. Walk into a French, Algebra, or History classroom, and the setting is sedate and similar: rows of desks, facing a blackboard. Walk into a chemistry classroom, and the mood is one of potential and excitement: Bunsen burners, microscopes, lab coats, test tubes, fire extinguishers, and an emergency chemical-bath. As one of the Chemistry teachers liked to boast, “You can’t die in English class.”
And yet, all I could muster up was a stifled yawn. Chemistry …
Memories are a funny thing. I look back at certain events or times, and wonder what it was that made a certain scene memorable, that gave it such staying power.
With childhood memories, the question evokes a stronger response – owing, perhaps, to the idea that a memory resonates with more emotion the more distant it seems. There’s something inspiring and captivating about looking back in your subconscious and finding a picture of yourself at a younger, more exciting age.
There I am, 20 years old, turning a corner outside of a Paris cafe, and bumping into the Prime Minister. There I am, 18 years old, sweating under the bright lights of my high-school…
Making the perfect pot of rice is no easy task. In my first few attempts, it boiled over, came out gummy, and stuck to the bottom: the trifecta of bad rice. But with some practice, and a few google searches, I came to perfect my rice.
Rice is finicky, like a set of rabbit ears on an old television. The more you handle the rice, the worse it turns out. With rice, delicacy is the watchword. Like those thin metal rods, you need to place the pot of rice in the right place, and then leave it alone, trusting it to work as it should.
In practice, this means …