The Seven Sisters Clams

It is the clamming season! My partner and a neighbor have been going to the Seven Sisters Beach near the Hood Canal Bridge to harvest clams. I've been itchy to try this recipe for years because it reminds me of home. This dish to seafood restaurants in Taiwan is like burgers and fries to American diners. When we first moved to the Northwest I was excited about the prospect of cooking and eating more fresh seafood. One would think it was a realistic expectation considering we were moving from the landlocked Midwest. I have been greatly disillusioned. Not only the store-bought and restaurant-served seafood are not fresh most of the time, the prices are unaffordable for us volunteers of simple living to eat regularly. And the kicker is unless you go to the top restaurants which we can't afford, your choices are pan-fried, deep-fried and battered-fried! What is the difference? The seafood we've enjoyed the most has been gifts from friends and neighbors who were the actual fishermen; salmon, tuna, crab, oysters, and even dog fish once. (It makes great miso soup,) Now clams! If you are going to steam the clams, instead of using lots of butter for dipping, try mixing soy sauce and rice vinegar in 1: 2 ratio and minced ginger. Try it, you would like it, I guarantee it.

Ingredients:

15-20 medium clams*

1 Tbsp of green onion, ginger, garlic, red chili pepper

1 tsp soy sauce

1 tsp sugar

1 cup of basil

2 Tbsp oil

* I let the clams sit in natural salt water for a day or two to get the sand out. Before cooking I brush-cleaned the shells and let them sit in regular clean water while I prepared the other ingredients.

Directions:

1. Heat oil in a wok or skillet until hot. Add green onion, ginger and garlic, stir-fry 30 seconds until fragrant.

2. Add clams, soy sauce, sugar, stir to coat, continue cooking with medium heat until all the clams are open. Add a little water if needed, usually not necessary as there will be enough juices from the clams.

3. Add basil, cook for one minute and serve.

This dish can be served as an appetizer or a main dish for two with vegetables and rice.

Bon Appetite or should I say "Itdakimasu" - "I humbly receive" as my Japanese friend Mayu and Yuko would say before meals.

Reminder: Before you start digging, you need to apply for a license and follow the rules published by the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife.

Rashomon

It was the third time I watched Akira Kurosawa's "Rashomon". The first time was 30 years ago and each time I "saw" and "perceived" the movie differently. If you have seen the movie you would know the perception of reality is at the heart of the story. The story is about a rape/murder case happened in the woods and the accounts of all involved. The rapist, the victims of rape and murder, the witnesses( a monk and a woodcutter) told their side of the story at a local courthouse. Each story was told in such a vivid and paradoxically "truthful" way that the audience (me in this case) believed each version as it was told and totally forgot about the last one!

The story I'm making up today from watching "Roshomon" last night is this - our mind is a brilliant con artist. It makes up stories incessantly: about ourselves, others, nature, and the whole universe. Since there is no way and a waste of time really to pin down the so-called truth we might as well learn how to tell stories like Kurosawa.

For Being A Little Bad

My father used to say,

"You are incorrigible."

He wasn't angry,

in fact he was a little glad.

In Chinese dictionary,

Incorrigible consists of two characters:

Ren, Allowing,

Xing, Nature.

In English dictionary,

Incorrigible is an adjective,

That cannot be corrected or reformed,

especially because set in bad habits!

Laurie Anderson sang,

"When my father died, a whole library burned down to the ground."

Wondering Lotus sang,

"When my father died, a whole dictionary turned up becoming mine."

William Shakespeare said:

"Best men are moulded out of faults;

And, for the most, becomes much more the better

for being a little bad."

Be incorrigible I say,

Like the lotus grow and thrive in mud!

Bliss

Bliss was a sunny February afternoon,

I feasted on the golden rays;

Savored spoonful after spoonful of Joyce Carol Oates;

Drooled over Noodle and Mei Meis' playfulness,

Until when the desert was served:

"My Faith As A Writer

I believe that art is the highest expression of the human spirit.

I believe that we yarn to transcend the merely finite and ephemeral; to participate in something mysterious and communal called "culture" - and that this yearning is as strong in our species as the yarning to reproduce the species.

Through the local or regional, through our individual voices, we work to create art that will speak to others who know nothing of us. In our very obliqueness to one another, an unexpected intimacy is born.

The individual voice is the communal voice.

The regional voice is the universal voice.

- Joyce Carol Oates"

Bon Appetite!

You Don't Have To Be Wrong For Me To Be Right

"You Don't Have To Be Wrong For Me To Be Right" is a book I picked up at a garage sale last summer. It was written by Rabbi Brad Hirschfield, the president of the National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership, and a cohost of radio shows and TV series. I had never heard of him before but the title caught my eye, arouse my curiosity and it was marked 25 cents.

The book turned out to be a good read. Hirschfiled was a good story teller; personable, eloquent and convincing. From the stories he won my respect as someone who not only talked the talk but also walked the walk. He backed up his insights with real believable life experiences. I highly recommend it.

While I was reading the book and immediately after, "You don't have to be wrong for me to be right" became my daily koan and I was shocked as how much I did and behaved exactly the opposite - "For me to be right, you have to be wrong"! After the shock came the self-examination and I realized this unconscious habitual reaction to someone who disagreed or upset me was a learned response. I learned how to deal with conflicts primarily from my parents. When they disagreed they fought, my mother usually gave in, they made peace, until the next time or they complained to the third party, us, the children. My father's way to express disagreements was through anger and shouting; my mother through crying and silence. When disagreements erupted among the kids it didn't help when I was always made the "right" one because I was the youngest. Once I had a better understanding of how I learned my conflict-dealing skills I felt better about my lack of them. It is never too late to unlearn the old and learn anew. I have two koans now, the first is "you don't have to be wrong for me to be right". It nabs arguments right in the bud because there is nothing to prove. The second one is "I don't have to be wrong for you to be right." I think the second one might be even more helpful for women as we generally tend to assume guilt readily, for the sake of peace!

So, what is your koan today?

What has "Eggplant & Basil" got to do with World Peace?

In Taiwan eggplant with basil is considered a typical Hakka cuisine. It is believed that Hakka people were originally nomads from Northern China who migrated to southern provinces of Guangdong, Jiangxi and Fujian in the 17th century, and later on to overseas including Taiwan. About 20% of Taiwan's population is of Hakka descent, many settled in Hsinchu where I grew up. The rest of Taiwan's population consists of aborigines, Taiwanese and mainlanders. I belong to the mainlander group who has only been in Taiwan for four generations. My parents evacuated from China in 1949 led by the Nationalist government who lost the civil war to the Communists. The aborigines, Taiwanese and Hakka have been in Taiwan centuries earlier than the mainlanders and enjoyed their own language and cultural heritage. The Nationalist government, as the ruling class and occupying forces usually do, imposed their might, superiority and culture on the occupied. But despite of 40 years of political, economic and cultural oppression good food transcended all boundaries; Taiwanese and Hakka cuisines have shared as much, if not more, popularity as mainland (Canton, Hunan, Sichuan, Shanghai are the better known ones)cuisines in Taiwan. This "food equality" makes me hopeful that when it comes to food - We are One People. You might be wondering about the lack of mentioning of the aboriginal food culture. Well, that will be another day and a very long story.

Eggplant with Basil

Ingredients:

3-4 Chinese eggplant, cut in 2" strips or 1" rounds

1 cup loosely packed basil

1 cup of oil

1 Tbsp chili bean sauce (less if desired)

1 tsp minced green oion, garlic and ginger

1 tsp soy sauce and 1/2 tsp sugar

Directions:

1. Heat 1 cup of oil in a wok or frying pan until hot, add eggplants and stir-fry until all pieces are coated with oil. Cook for a couple of minutes with high-medium heat, then turn down the heat to very low and cook the eggplant until very soft. This might take 15-20 minutes. Stir occasionally.

2. Take out the eggplants and drain. If there is excess of oil left, pour into a small bowl or jar for other use.

3. Heat 1 tbsp of the drained oil until hot. Add chili bean sauce, green onion, garlic and ginger, stir-fry about 30 seconds until fragrant. Add drained eggplants, basil, soy sauce and sugar, heat through and serve.

Try it and let me know how it turns out. If you enjoy it invite someone who sees the world differently than you, share it and see what happens!

Why English?

"Do you write in English or Chinese?" was a question a friend asked me three years ago, when I started writing publicly. He was the first and in fact one of the very few, and he is a Dutchman. I remember I answered without an ounce of doubt and hesitation, "in English."

Why do I write in English? I've asked myself and answered it many times in my head and in writing, none of them told half of the truth as Ha Jin did in his novel "A Free Life". In a book review the critic used "Another Country", a poem the protagonist Wu Nan wrote, to praise Ha Jin's works , "the freedom he seeks is the freedom of art, more radical and dangerous than the merely political, and one Ha Jin has confronted with powerful results."

"You must go to a country

without border,

where you can build your home

out of garlands of words,

where broad leaves shade familiar faces

that no longer change in the wind and rain."

(Partial)

In another article from the Boston Review, this is what was said about Ha Jin, "We hear in these poems the living and the dead..... in an uncanny language in which English is carried up into a region of pure human authenticity - the language of no nation but the nation of the person who speaks willingly or unwillingly the truth."

I rest my case. By the way, Ha Jin is also a professor of English Department at the Boston University.

Fortune Cookies

Do you know fortunate cookie is an American invention? How do I know? Because I am Chinese and I never tasted one until I came to the U.S. Not only it wasn't originated in China, according to Wikipedia, Japanese Americans claimed they first introduced and made them in the 19th century. Then how did fortune cookies become associated with Chinese restaurants? It was believed that the Chinese overtook the business during WWII when all the Japanese were put away in the intern camps!

History aside, I have my own theory about fortune cookies. I suspect the fortune cookie was invented because it was a business idea. Americans love deserts. Although traditionally Chinese meals don't end with deserts, the earlier Chinese restaurant owners must have figured it out that - if they wanted to attract and keep American customers, they better serve up something sweet. The fortune was just an afterthought.

Collecting Bones

When my father died he was cremated. His bones were the first human bones I've ever seen. While I was in shock to see my father as a pile of bones my nieces and nephews were squatting on the floor helping the "bone collector", they were laughing and competing with each other in finding the most intact bones from the still-warm ashes. It was like a scene at a science lab. The bone collector said my father must have been a kind man when he was alive. I thought he was trying to be polite in order to get a big tip. I asked him how he could tell. He was a little taken back and shot me a look I've interpreted most of my life as "How dare you challenge me? I am older than you, a man and the authority here!" But his winkled face and his voice actually were kind when he said, "You can tell a lot from the bones. If a person led a bad life his bones are dark and dull; your father's bones are bright and clean. He was a very kind man." Everybody in my family was nodding so I nodded too. We did thank him and gave him a decent tip.

I haven't thought about bones much except maybe when I am eating tofu or doing yoga. I've been reading Clarissa Pinkola Estes' "Women Who Run With the Wolves" again lately, before I went to bed. I've read it so many times since it was given to me as a gift from my friend Julie in 1993 it is falling to pieces. Even so I am always surprised when I read it. This time when I opened the book, it said "Introduction, Singing Over the Bones." As I read on I became even more at awe at its knowing and my knowing as when my wildish psyche is in disarray and needs the right medicine. It is time to go to the desert, collect the bones and give them a spring cleaning.

The Beginning

What inspired me to set up this blog was what happened yesterday. I got up around 6 a.m. After my daily ritual of writing morning journal, smoking hand-rolled American Spirit cigarettes and drinking expresso made with French Roast, I started writing on the computer. That's where I do my serious writing, or so I thought. This image has been lingering in my mind - two tiny spiders, each engrossed in their perfect centers of the universe. It was a photo I took in fall 2008. It speaks so well for the "trapped" feeling I always feel during winter. I thought maybe I wrote about it I would feel less trapped. Without much thinking I started by first explaining how the photograph came about - how we went on a whim and got a new Mac and a digital camera two years ago and how the new technologies empowered me to see the world with new eyes. Half page into my writing it dawned on me that I set out to write about the "web" as in a spider web, but I was drawn into writing the "Web" as in WWW! I'm not done with the story yet, who knows where it wants to go. I don't even know where this story is going. Oh, right, now I remembered, the sea lions.

But I have to tell you about the dogs first. We adopted another dog lately and she hasn't been trained to walk "nicely" in the neighborhood; she barked at people who have lived here longer than she has, she jumped up on people with a mouthful of slobber, and she doesn't stop for cars. So I've been taking her and her new brother Noodle(By the way, her name is Mei Mei, little sister in Chinese) to the beach so they can run free AND most importantly I can relax too. Now you know why we were at the beach we can move on to the important stuff - the sea lions.

It was the voice we heard first - loud, rumbling and fighting noises. "What is that sound?" I asked my partner Curt worriedly. "Don't know." Not an ounce of concern. "It's a beautiful sunny Monday afternoon and we are walking on a beautiful deserted beach. Relax!" said my critique. There was a good-size rock in the distance and as we got closer the brown blob covering the top, which I thought was moss, started to move! "Seals. No. Sea Lions!" Curt exclaimed. "Wow!" we marveled in unison when a couple of them raised their heads and let out this roar that it was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. The dogs got really quiet. I think even they knew they were in the presence of something wild and untamed - like their ancestors before they figured out how to get food and shelter the easy way.

Before I went to bed I read "Women who run with the wolves".