Silver linings

It's easy to see all the heartbreak that has come from the pandemic. Instead, I decided it was time to start finding my silver linings.

1. I now have a proper workspace! Necessity is the mother of invention, as they say. While I hadn't needed to move from the couch during the first month, degradation in hygiene conditions around the apartment that were beyond my control required a retreat to the bedroom starting in week 5 of the lock-down. And so, lock-down be damned, I managed to acquire a new console to convert my antique school desk into an L-shaped work surface that enabled me to migrate to a less fragrant corner of the apartment, with better posture to boot!

My gorgeous new workspace, complete with the world's most helpful colleague

2. Our cats have learned a new game. New routines have been introduced under quarantine, including a chase/fetch the treat game, through which the cats have been learning all sorts of new rules of physics and spatial awareness such as, when a treat disappears under a door, you can run around the door to find it. And they've also become much more attuned to how to swat treats mid-trajectory to beat their arch-rival. Mars is getting to be unusually dextrous with his food. (I'm wondering if I won't regret those new skills I've been training in him.) Chat has also learned to hesitantly trust my calling her and tapping my foot on the ground, even if she can't see the treat that I'm flagging.

3. Desserts! Now that Nicolas and I are finally eating meals together for the first time since, oh, 2017 (because under normal times, my job feeds me all my meals 5 days a week), well, I can't pretend that I am of any use in the kitchen, BUT I have gotten us into the habit of finishing each meal with a scoop of ice cream topped with freshly sliced strawberries, sliced by yours truly! (Seriously I'm so useless in the kitchen, anything is an accomplishment.) This is one trend I'm hoping we'll take with us out of lock-down.

4. Chat is finally dealing with her over-grooming, despite her best wishes. Now that I'm around to supervise, I have been able to safely dress her and guard her tummy against that enthusiastic, scratchy tongue.

And I really should note that I don't deserve to be "looking for silver linings": Our families are so far all safe and healthy. Nicolas and I are both fortunate enough to still have jobs and salaries, which is making our government stimulus check one sweet bonus, a bonus that we've been preemptively spending to support a handful of our favorite local bars and restaurants. It's frustrating to be spending sums that feel completely exorbitant only to realize what a drop in the bucket they are for our local businesses. The sensation of powerlessness, well, that's certainly not a silver lining. But I'd hate to try to turn the tables on this and list my ability to stock up on fancy booze thanks to the stimulus check as a silver lining-- it leaves me with the icky feeling that I'm somehow complicit with the sleazy politicians and the 1% who are getting rich off of all this economic hardship.

I was supposed to...

I was supposed to blog in March.

Accurate.

I was supposed to tell you how our months of efforts all paid off and California Berned. And did it!

I was supposed to tell you how California Berned, from LA to the Bay ✊🔥💙

I was also supposed to tell you how my chest tightened as the evening's results rolled in on my phone while I did the final Get Out The Vote laps around my Bay Area precinct. I was supposed to tell you how heartbroken I was to see so much of the country go another way. I couldn't believe it was just a week and a half since Bernie's third sequential popular vote victory (a historic first to kick off any party's primaries), a resounding win with nearly 50% of the vote, and in the first diverse state to vote. I could have told you it's Ne-VAH-duh, by the way, as the locals prepped me before the day I'd spent in late February canvassing across Reno. I'd have waxed about how the Oakland campaign headquarters, which hosted its closing party on my birthday, had become a second home and family. But by the time I was ready to write, the world had other ideas about what was relevant. Though reality was screaming for a progressive agenda, it no longer seemed like something I was supposed to write about.

This is how my 2020 looked up until mid-March. Smiles and hope and fighting for someone we didn't know.

And now, welcome to late March 2020 aka The End Times

Instead, I can tell you how it's now a day shy of four weeks since I went to the office. I'm quite fortunate that the office is still waiting for me when all this is over. Even Nicolas's managed to hold on to his job while his store let go the vast majority of its workforce. We're looking for ways to stretch our limited Bay Area incomes to support those more in need—Kiva loans to American businesses, a mail order of tea from a small Seattle-based tea shop, web orders from our two favorite local bars that could only be called exorbitant under other circumstances. But it all feels like a drop in the bucket, and I just wish there were better ways to help.

Who'd have thought our civic duty would involve stocking up on looseleaf and microbrews?

Like everyone these days, we've been reconnecting to friend networks while social distancing. If you can't leave your home, how very different is it whether the friend on the other end of the Google hangout is two Bart stops or nine time zones away? And since conversations can only go so far when we've all been up to pretty much the same thing for nearly a month, I've even made a Steam (online gaming) account, a step into digital nerding that Nicolas never expected from me.

Chat is experiencing her own version of social distancing, from her abdomen.

One upside of this whole crisis is that I've finally had the chance to take care of my cat and her psychogenic alopecia. After trying various creams and diet changes to stop her excessive licking, the vet left us with one last option: dressing our cat. On top of the uncontrolled feline rage, we were concerned that her attempts at escape might have led to her strangling herself while we were off at work. Now that the cat is no longer unsupervised, it seemed as good a time as any to break out the kitty wardrobe. For the past two weeks, poor Chat has been socially distancing from her own tummy, and is miserable as the rest of us. (But after nearly 3 years, her tummy fur is starting to return!)

The couch and my butt have been getting friendly.

Parking my butt on the couch with my laptop for days on end of coding can only go so far. After really seriously committing to this stay-the-fuck-at-home patriotism for a week or two, my legs needed to find a healthier balance. For the past week or so I've been getting some sun and fresh air on daily walks around Lake Merritt, where I've been trying to remind myself that, unlike everything else, spring was not canceled.

Somehow spring still hasn't been canceled.

I hope you too have moments that remind you that spring has not been canceled.

My first aerial performance

It's been a long-standing goal, really since I began doing yoga when I moved to Paris in a studio that  had an emphasis on yoga choreography, to one day perform a really beautiful choreography. Now that I've been into pole/aerial for the past five years, the goal has left the mat but otherwise remained the same. Unfortunately, as start-up life pulls me further and further from a regular aerial work-out schedule, and with the move to Oakland last summer more than doubling the travel time to my closest studio, the goal has been feeling more and more out of reach. While I don't quite see myself getting to the stage of performing my own self-composed solo choreography any time soon, I jumped at the opportunity to sign on for a group performance composed by one of my lovely instructors here in Oakland. I'll admit that this routine wasn't the most challenging, but I did get to learn a really fun new pairs spinning move featured at the very end of the performance. After a month and a half of training, here is our little routine and my first time showing off some aerial skills in front of a live audience.

Restaurant Week 2020

7:07am never feels good on a Tuesday after a three-day weekend. Doubly so when its sounding rings in the end of your town's Restaurant Week, and with it your access to three- and four-course meals across town at prices you can actually afford. Oakland rolled out a generous twelve-day spin on restaurant week, from the 9th until just last night. And, for the first time since I'd enviously heard talk of the "restaurant week" concept back when I was a very broke undergrad enjoying my very first city, I was actually able to partake.

Restaurant Week is an event where an assortment of restaurants across a city, generally mid-to-upper-range establishments, create prix fixe menus that allow you to sample their cuisine without breaking the bank. In Oakland, there were restaurants with prices set at low as $20/person, all the way up to $80, but most restaurants concentrated around the $40. For your fun history lesson, the concept of Restaurant Week was born back in New York in 1992, by the founder of Zagat, as a lunch-only scheme to bring people (mostly media and politicians) into restaurants during the Democratic National Convention, hosted that year in the Big Apple. The event was so successful that it quickly spread across the country.

Oakland Restaurant Week 2020 called to us. And we answered.

Our Restaurant Week extravaganza (I'm being a bit generous with the term, I'll allow) hatched during the week of New Year's, which I gifted myself as a staycation thanks to my company's "unlimited PTO" policy. While wandering around town, I couldn't help but notice the slew of posters, bus sign ads, and possibly even billboards enticing me with, of all things, a bowl of blue rice (alongside some other more forgettable food). Soon enough they'd gotten me scouring their website, searching for the most highly rated, pescatarian-friendly fare in our price range. We had, after all, received a gift certificate that we were instructed to use to actually dine out. (I may be a bit of a penny pincher these days. Dropping everything when we rush-exited the UK has left a mark.) Soon we'd picked a target: Mägo. And even a runner-up to enjoy on our own dime. But then a sorority sister swung through town and the timing couldn't be better! And after all that, it was MLK Day, a holiday, and Nicolas has surely come home too late to cook right? And it was our last chance until 2021 to enjoy this special event... so yes, we came, we saw, we ate our way through Restaurant Week 2020.

With no further eyes, feast your appetite on the Restaurant Week book report that devoured my allotted gym time this Tuesday morning.

Guilty Pleasure #1: Mägo

Specializing in locally sourced, organic fare, this place has a charming, trendy, intimate atmosphere with price tags surprisingly lower than what you'd expect for the atmosphere they cultivate. I began with the whipped yogurt and beets, while Nicolas opted for the cauliflower soup with potatoes and olive tapenade. Next came the heirloom rice grits, wild mushrooms, and nori butter for me, the pappardelle with chicken ragout for Nicolas. My last main was grilled sturgeon with turnips, black garlic, and pumpkin seed butter, while Nicolas got the beef pot roast, roasted parsnip, and brussel sprouts. All of their savory dishes were exquisite, complex blends of rich flavors and fresh ingredients. After all the fanfare, the olive oil and semolina cake with winter citrus was admittedly a bit of a let down, as was the dessert cocktail we paired with it. Next time I'd probably restaurant hop after the appetizer and entrée, but I'd undoubtedly return for those.

Restaurant Week 2020: Mägo

Guilty Pleasure #2: Hopscotch

This place was a bit of a cheat as I'd been here before and knew I really enjoyed it, but it's just down the street from my place and it was a school night, so I allowed it. Plus, I needed to make sure that Melissa saw a yummy side of my delightful new home. After a surprise amuse-bouche whose contents I simply cannot recall, we kicked things off with a burrata and a plate of caramelized brussel sprouts. I went in for the seared scallops with polenta, chicories, and sunchoke chips (yum!!) and Melissa took the soba mafaldine with braised cabbage, squash, romanesco, and ricotta. We wrapped things up with the donuts and butter cream and peach sorbet for my healthier friend. And, for those in the know, no visit to Hopscotch is complete without an accompanying cocktail. They specialize it scotch, so I had some scotch-and-soda-based delight that took me through the meal. There is something delightful about watching your local down-to-earth restaurant dress to impress. Bravo, Hopscotch!

Restaurant Week 2020: Hopscotch

Guilty Pleasure #3: Downtown Wine Merchants

Our runner-up to Mägo, I must have walked past this adorable locale a million times, but I've never find the right excuse to pop in. On Saturday, Nicolas and I finally got in the door for what certainly won't be the last time. Unlike the other places, Downtown Wine Merchants had every course pre-selected-- and I accepted a cheat day from my normal pescatarian diet in order to sample what they had in store. Also unlike the previous two places, Downtown Wine Merchants offered a wine pairing with each course for their $40 price tag. You won't find me complaining. We began with a pistachio-topped burrata paired with a rosé. Next came the duck confit with pomegranate sauce paired with a medium-bodied red (specifically the Chateau Trillol Grenache/Syrah, Corbieres, France- yum). Finally, a warm persimmon pudding, which tasted like a half-baked, moist, fluffy gingerbread cake, topped with home made whipped cream. Drool. And it was recommended to be paired with a sweet sparkling dessert wine, though we preferred the dry alternative they also had us sample. Much to our delight, we discovered that this sort of meal is a weekly occurrence at Downtown Wine Merchants! And not only is their three-course meal with wine flight a regular Saturday evening event, but they can even cater to special dietary needs upon request. At a mere ten minutes' walk from our home, we've already begun scheduling double dates back at this place. (By that metric, Downtown Wine Merchants really won our Restaurant Week.)

Restaurant Week 2020: Downtown Wine Merchants

Guilty Pleasure #4: Calavera

With one night left in Oakland Restaurant Week 2020, we squeezed a last one under the wire yesterday evening. Calavera is a local, upscale Mexican kitchen and agave bar. By Mexican food standards, they're quite all right. Bonus points on presentation and lack of greasiness, but not the food that I'll be left fantasizing over. That is, except for their sugar-dusted churros that chocolate sauce, freshly melted rich chocolate. And the cocktail to boot: a tantalizing mix of aperol, sparkling wine, Hennessy, and coffee liqueur that I simply have to try to repeat at home. This is absolutely the dessert and drink you need after a visit to Mägo. Or really any time.

Restaurant Week 2020: Calavera

Our holiday layover

Arizona sounds like a warm place to spend a couple of days, right? So our reasoning went when we booked our two night layover en route home to California. The logic may have failed us, with Phoenix coming in at just slightly colder than my family's suburban Pennsylvania, but the city was still a cool place (oh, the puns!) to spend a day or so. Phoenix isn't terribly pedestrian-friendly, so we didn't hit up too many attractions, but we did squeeze in visits to the Heard Museum and the Desert Botanical Garden.

The Heard Museum describes itself as the world's preeminent museum of Native American art, and it does a pretty good job. I walked in bracing myself and found it far less depressing than what I'd anticipated. The museum does a very good job of celebrating and educating on the culture of various tribes, especially those of the Southwest, without too much focus on the loss and the tragedy these peoples have experienced. A few interesting facts I learned:

1. The Hopi village of Orayvi (Oraibi, Arizona) was founded in 1150 AD and, at least according to the Heard Museum, is the oldest continuously inhabited community in the US.
2. The Navajo Nation has the largest federally recognized reservation, spanning an area across Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah that is about the size of West Virginia. Personally I had no idea that reservations could get this big. Kind of makes you wonder whether they should be getting their own congressional representation...
3. Native Americans have served in pretty much every American war, ever since the Revolution, but they were not legally US citizens until 1924.
4. The US Federal Bureau of Indian Education still exists! In 2019!
5. Four federally-operated off-reservation boarding schools are still in operation, including one right in my home state of California. Apparently the boarding schools, in the midst of all you probably heard regarding cultural genocide, didn't only do awful things. (They did a lot of awful things.) They played a large role in creating a sort of broader Indian American cultural identity that extended beyond tribal affiliation. And reforms to start embracing, rather than purely erasing, native culture within the boarding schools began as early as the 1930s. (Who knew people were becoming "woke" so early?)
6. Ever wonder about Native American education after high school? The Bureau of Indian Education oversees two Native American colleges (a university and a polytechnic institute). And there are forty tribally-run community colleges.

Images from the Hear Museum. Note in the bottom right that even the American Indians are not immune to the magic of a certain British wizard.

The Desert Botanical Garden's Las Noches de las Luminarias that evening was much less about learning and more about looking at (and listening to!) pretty things. Every night in December, the Desert Botanical Garden lights up with luminaria bags and string lights, and musical groups nestled throughout the park create the soundtrack to the sparkling evening. We were lucky to have booked in advance, as the nearly freezing temperatures weren't enough to keep the event from selling out by the time we'd arrived! While night fell too quickly for us to see all of the plants, we did enjoy the added bonus of listening to several local and native musicians. There is an undeniable magic to huddling under a heat lamp and listening to a guitar and panpipes performed across a backdrop of cactus silhouettes against an inky blue sky.

Las Noches de las Luminarias at the Desert Botanical Gardens

And, while far less compelling to anyone who didn't enjoy the stay first-hand, no summary of our trip to Arizona would be complete without singing the praises of the darling home in which we stayed, where we got a private upstairs unit all to ourselves. It came complete with a cozy window-front corner for breakfasts and evening drinks, several chairs for lounging, a stocked bookshelf, and most importantly, the ultimate dream bathroom that I am already fantasizing about replicating one day if I ever have enough money to own a home of my own. *Swoon.*

Our charming Phoenix home away from home.

And with that, it's a wrap on 2019!

¡Hasta luego, Arizona!

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Our holiday plans were a bit less tropical than last year's Christmas in Senegal. Instead, we hopped a red-eye to Newark, New Jersey. The December holidays are allocated (so far) to my side of the family, and with Nicolas's job not giving him Thanksgiving or New Year's off, we found ourselves having to struggle through the season without a single dish of foie gras or a fresh Parisian baguette. Okay, maybe I was the only one struggling on that front.

While back on the East Coast, we fit in all the main Christmas hits—Repak Family Dinner on Christmas Eve, jetlag-napping through Christmas Eve mass, the Aloia Family Christmas Day Party, endless marathons of A Christmas Story, and last but not least, our 8th annual Cousins' Campout, a tradition resurrected from our collective childhoods in the 90s.

Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!

Some things were different: the big family party saw a new host, we had a new furry family member in the mix (who took home the Mr. Stinky prize at this year's Cousins' Campout), and somehow Cards Against Humanity didn't make an appearance (is it even really Cousins' Campout without it??). Overall we came, we saw, we conquered, and we left the family in one piece. Can't really ask for much more from the holidays.

Our first American Thanksgiving

This year, for the first time since 2007, I celebrated Thanksgiving Stateside. Ironically, our first Thanksgiving in America was the first time we found ourselves not responsible for a turkey and more since Nicolas and I met back in 2014. Instead, we got to downgrade to a simple brie and fig brulée while we stayed out of the kitchen and let others handle the heavy lifting. Our new recipe, like anything coming from the hands of my Frenchman, was top notch. It even involved some fun with fire.

Brie and fig brulée on toast

Getting to sample someone else's Thanksgiving spread for a change was exciting and educational. Our favorite bit: learning about the Watergate Salad, a timely dish this year.

Before the food coma. Check out that Watergate Salad at the top, just to the left of the mashed potatoes.

While salad is a generous term-- it's made of marshmallows, whipped cream, pistachio pudding, and rum-soaked roasted pineapple-- the dish was surprisingly good! Certainly sounds like something to pair with my dad's selection of peach and mint ice cream come Christmas.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving! A perfect one! Perfecto!