clay + cook: candelabras + cilbir, curry, chinese

After my week in Washington, D.C., April seemed to drag. I threw myself into canoe paddling and started to make a candelabra like the one I made below last year. I just entered the ceramics category for the San Mateo County Fair, and if I can't get a pot done, then I'll enter the one below into the fair. Right now I've got 4 different candelabras and candleholders in progress at the community studio.

 

Once back in California, I also aimed to re-create my favorite breakfast in D.C. I bought labneh and added grated garlic, chopped dill and mint, and tiny bit of cumin to it. I sautéed savoy cabbage.

 

I roasted Romanesco broccoli or Roman cauliflower along with some canned artichokes.

And my Turkish breakfast with Cecilia's sourdough bread turned out delicious. Later that weekend, I also cooked an Indian curry to use up more of the bounty from our garden.

 

And because my Dan Dan was such a disappointment with equally underwhelming cucumber salad in D.C. even though thankfully it came with a generous pour of Chardonnay….                  

I aimed to make my favorite version because I guess I don't care about authenticity either. I suppose like adobo, every cook makes the recipe differently. I started with ground pork that I seasoned with garlic, ginger, soy sauce, fish sauce, sesame oil, Sichuan peppercorns, white pepper, Chinese pickled mustard greens AND pickled jalapeno and later combined with scallion and garlic fried in oil to make the chili oil with red pepper flakes, ground star anise, ground coriander, ground cumin, Madras curry powder, sesame seeds as well as more Sichuan peppercorns. Then brown the meat and add it to tahini, more soy sauce, smooth peanut butter, light brown sugar, chicken powder, balsamic sauce and even more grated garlic. I decanted my instant Dan Dan mix into a few jars to share with a couple neighbors and made my own low sodium chicken and vegetable bone broth, ready for the day to cook the dish. 

 

I cooked Momofuku eggs and sliced some Savoy cabbage.

 

Next boil ramen noodles and cabbage together--it's how I incorporate more vegetables into a meal and save time and cooking water.

 

While the noodles and greens were boiling for 3 to 4 minutes, I microwaved the chicken broth and instant Dan Dan Mix and added the cooked noodles and vegetables to the bowl. Lastly a sprinkling of chopped scallions and cilantro.

And then it was time to dig into my glorious bowl of my Dan Dan.

My complaint about the Dan Dan at Renren Lamen & Bar in D.C. was that it was dry. Their food was really also not flavorful.

travel: the national gallery of art’s east building

When I thought I had finished exploring the National Gallery of Art, I happened upon even more. Before I had even headed over to the East Building, I looked at information on display near the exit in the West Building about its expansion in 1978, and I think by that year, my family had already moved from Rockville, Maryland to Groton, Connecticut. I hadn't been aware that there was a whole another half to the National Gallery of Art. I didn't even consider that the first half of the building had only been erected as recently as 1941.

I thought I was done with the National Gallery of Art and hadn't realized there was still a majority of the day left to exploring its other half across the "street."

And so I don't think there was an East Building when I had toured the National Gallery of Art as a child. Later during my tour of the East Building, I looked out a window while the docent explained that I.M. Pei had the challenge of building the expansion on a trapezoidal shaped property, which I had overlooked in the information placards photographed above.             

After all morning spent in the West Building, I stepped outside to cross the pavement to go to the East Building. I had no idea until later that these pyramidal glass structures were skylights into the walkway underneath the two buildings. I did recall the pyramidal glass structure to the Louvre Museum when I had traveled to Paris in my early 20s. 

I was so tired from walking miles that morning as I approached my  exploration of modern and contemporary art.

I loved the contrast in buildings of the East to West. I later learned from the docent too that I.M. Pei met the challenge of building on a trapezoidal shaped property by designing the building to be one large isosceles triangle joined to a small right triangle. Oh and here's a pair of earrings I almost bought as a souvenir. I didn't because I rarely wear earrings.

Once I entered and talked to docents at reception, they recommended that I start at the top and make my way down to view all the art. Even the opaque glass elevator was a work of art. On the third floor, there are sculptures outside on the rooftop. Right away one notices the numbers. Clarendon font?                 

 

Is this abstraction? Paring down what's real unto its most basic shape?

After viewing and photographing a piece of art, I also took pictures of the placards next to it. Is this artist saying that abstraction is making a piece ugly and deformed? And why am I only now noticing these "stars" on the wet pavement in the joints of these triangle stone tiles? 

I took a picture of my favorite number, 7. 7 is the year that my parents threw me a big birthday party, which I remember enjoying. I don't know if my younger siblings ever got to have a big party with lots of guests. I guess that's the perk of being the oldest sibling. I have to remember that my parents loved and celebrated me. And wow what is this font? 

Here's an installation I loved for its pure functionality. Sitting.

And is it still art if it's functional? These rocks weren't cordoned off for not sitting. But I didn't because they were wet, and it was raining.

And here's an installation that included cording to perhaps suggest that they were keep the sculpture intact. The wire cables made me think of tent poles, which you have to erect by inserting into each other when not collapsed.

And here's a recent acquisition that's a play on words.

 

Why blue? I wondered. And it's a cobalt blue, which is rather vibrant and not the navy blue of stolidity.

Most of my art education happens from reading the placards next to museum installations. I've always loved the color of blue, but perhaps not as pure hue. I guess like a blue that is mixed with black or a bit of green to make indigo.

  

More numbers to ponder. 

And I'm only now seeing the trapezoidal shapes of the building in these pictures.

And then the big reveal for me: who created these numbers?

Of course, Robert Indiana who created my favorite and iconic work of his, "Love." And now I'm reading all about him on his website, and now, I'm wanting to reference his work, "Amor."

travel: day 3 washington dc

I just watched here in the cafe, an African American man, wearing a black hoodie that said I Am My Ancestor’s Wildest Dream passed by. I love that. I walked again to the Tatte Bakery Cafe in the city center. And took notice of footwear. I guess that's one way of telling who the locals are. Who wears sandals in early rainy April? And of course I do love leather shoes with a suit.                          

 

Some of the locals do wear athletic shoes like my favorite Adidas Stan Smith. When my Adidas blue suede Gazelle wear out (there are holes forming in both heels), I want a pair of black leather Sambas. And this time I photographed the neon graffiti at Tiffany's as a reminder to wear my Paloma Picasso's graffiti love ring.

 

The pistachio croissants as well as the savory pastries looked scrumptious.

Oh I miss these sweet pastries of Kouign Amann and Morning Buns.

And then my S P I N A C H , J E R U S A L E M  A R T I C H O K E , & E G G  P L AT E ( C I L B I R ) arrived. Sautéed spinach, roasted Jerusalem Artichoke (which I now know are sunchokes) and a poached egg, over garlic labneh, with Aleppo chili oil, served with sourdough. And my new favorite hot drink, London Fog or Earl Grey tea with vanilla and milk.

 

And then I began my walk to the Hirshorn and promptly got lost. I think where I ended up walking is back to Chinatown in the Penn Quarter. I finally turned around and went past this Catholic church again.   

And knew I was headed back to the city central when I passed the Thomson Elementary school which is across the street from this similar red brick apartment building. I wonder if it was perhaps the headmaster's home or the lodgings for the teachers back in the day. Now it's surrounded by modern buildings and offices. I do like getting lost and figuring out what neighborhood I'm in. 

If I go back to Washington, D.C. though, I want to stay closer to the Metro Station and the Capitol and come on a weekend to go to the Eastern Market and the Library of Congress. So once I was closer to the National Mall, I finally started to feel oriented and could see the Hirshorn in my sights.
     

Unfortunately, the third floor was closed because they were still creating exhibits to celebrate its 50th anniversary. I was the only person on a docent tour, and afterward my docent said I should just stroll through the sculpture garden and go to the Smithsonian American Art Museum at the National Portrait Gallery. And so I did! My feet were aching once I got there, but at least I also knew I wasn't far afterward from my hotel. Alas!

Across the street I saw that another historical building was turned into a hotel. That bums me out, but I suppose we tourists gotta stay somewhere close.

 

As I approached the main entrance, I helped a couple a take a photo in front of the museum. I declined their kind offer to take my pic.

A volunteer at the front desk, when I told her that I was incredibly fatigued, steered me toward the top to make my way down and incorporate a rest stop. Yes please. And once I'd rested and walked and looked, I started exiting opposite where I entered, where a reception was being prepared, I asked a caterer who and she said she wasn't allowed to disclose who were the very important people. No matter, I was exhausted and hungry.

 

And rather than wait a couple hours to take a Lyft from my hotel to a Cambodian restaurant in Columbia Heights I wanted to try, I opted for the confused Chinese restaurant around the corner from my hotel. And instead of ordering the ramen or lamen soup, I thought I'd finally try Dan Dan cooked by a Chinese chef. I dithered over just sipping my large Chardonnay until I could take a taxi, but I was so damn tired.

Instead I ordered the Taiwanese smashed cucumber (underwhelming) and asked the waitress to ask the chef to please add bok choi to my noodles too because I was craving more vegetables. The Dan Dan was pretty darn disappointing.

A dish that originates from Chengdu. Where was the mala? Where was the red color of fiery chilies? No mouth numbing and no flavor. And so this afternoon, I'm going to defrost some pork and make my own version. And this time, maybe I'll make my own version of tea and soy sauce Asian marinated eggs.