My first bento!

It's been almost four years since I left Japan. In that final flurry of packing, I left behind my bento box.

That (along with a plastic kiwi knife-spoon) is one of the things I regret leaving behind the most! But, check out what arrived in the mail yesterday:

Ooh! A box! With Japanese tape!

But, as I was cranky about my messy kitchen, I let it sit on the couch in the kitchen (yes, we have a couch in the kitchen. It's really more like a settee) until after I'd washed up and started on dinner.

My husband couldn't take the suspense, and look what he pulled out:

Oh, I just can't tell you how much I love it! Two layers of pure bento goodness. I foresee greatness in my lunching future!

I agonized over what to make for my first lunch. I know, I know, if I was a good bentoer, I'd do it in the morning, but I like my sleep and I usually throw things together in five minutes.

In the end, I chose to make Bento no.53 from Just Hungry. And set it up in my box. And then ate it.

And then packed round two for tomorrow's lunch.

Ta dah!

Le Menu

white rice topped with umeboshi

carrot kinpira

blanched greens with mirin, shoyu & sesame oil

blanched bean sprouts with sansho & salt

sesame beef

king oyster mushrooms braised in butter, mirin and shoyu

Why did no one tell me about the pure deliciousness that are king oyster mushrooms? Oh, lord save me now!

Spinach & Artichoke Quiche

I love spinach and artichoke dip. You know, with bacon. And oodles of cheese. Mmm. I'm in heaven just thinking about it.

So, why not enjoy the fun in quiche form?

Bacon & eggs? Check.

Spinach? Check.

Artichokes? Check.

Let's rock and roll.

The Horror. The Horror.

So, I got asked by a female teacher today if I'm pregnant.

I'm not. In fact I weigh exactly the same now as I did at the beginning of the year.

She very rapidly backpedaled: "Oh, I mean... it's not like you look... I mean maybe a bit..."

So, did I immediately get to the gym? Did I swear to eat salad and only salad for a week? Did I cry tears of sorrow?

No. No, my friends, I bought two bags of chips.

Might as well look the part.

Cupcake Update!

I went with Martha Stewart's brain cupcakes and, while I thought they were delicious, the alleged Swiss Meringue frosting had TWO POUNDS of butter in it. Two pounds! Sweet Jesus!

Really, it was a light (consistency) buttercream frosting. The recipe said it made enough for 28 cupcakes... but based on my leftovers, I'd say it frosts more like 36-40. I had more than two cups leftover.

Still. Delicious. My students told me it was too buttery though.

Whatever. They're a bunch of 13 year olds. What do they know except grocery store frosting?

Onward to my latest excitement - I've finally ordered bento boxes for my husband and I. Of all the things I really wish I'd brought from Japan, my steel panda bento box is one of the things I miss the most. That and my pig bowl. Oh! And my kiwi knife-spoon (it came with a package of golden kiwis). See the picture? That's exactly what it looked like.

I miss it.

Anyway, since we bring our lunches to work everyday, I've been meaning to buy us bento boxes for ages. I just couldn't commit to a design though. That, and the ones I've seen in Toronto go for 30$ for something I KNOW could be bought at a hyaku-en shop.

Thursday, I was voluntold to bake something for my school's bake sale. In the panic of the moment of pressure, I said I would bring cupcakes.

Cupcakes. Cup-a-cakes. Cüppencakes. Umlauts make everything more fun.

Anyway, have I mentioned that I don't really know what I'm doing? I can't remember the last time I made cupcakes. I'm debating between these two:

S'more Cupcakes from the very fun blog Annie Eats.

Or

Brain Cupcakes from Martha Stewart.

One of my friends suggested Guinness Cupcakes... but that might go down a little too well with the 14 year olds.

I was asked these questions today:

Did you always want to be a teacher?

"No. I tried very hard to avoid it."

Then... why did you become one?

And I never know exactly how to answer that one. It feels like a trick question. Oh sure, I could give some stock answer about loving kids and enjoying the feeling of teaching. I COULD do that, but that wouldn't be the truth. That's an answer I reserve for teaching interviews.

And, I'm the kinda teacher that likes telling the truth. So, when students ask me that question, that's what I give them.

"Well, kids, it's because you entertain me to no end. What other job would I get to interact with 105 nutjobs in a day?"

And they'll nod, as though that makes perfect sense. 13 year olds have a much clearer understanding of the world than adults do.

Last night, one of my friends from forever ago came over for a baking extravaganza. She recently (over the past couple of years) got into veganism, which is something I normally wouldn't mention. But for some reason the concept of vegan baking is something I just can't wrap my head around.

Don't get me wrong. I like tofu. My husband and I eat a lot of vegetarian meals. But baking? The world needs butter and eggs, you know?

In the early years of this friend's veganism, as she felt that recipes are guidelines rather than rules... so she often substituted one ingredient for another... except she didn't really know how to do that yet. Can you see where this is going? We made Christmas cookies together two years ago and I've never really regained my confidence in the kitchen after that particular experiment.

Canned pumpkin isn't really a replacement for butter and eggs in gingerbread cookies.

Just throwin' that out there.

So, when she showed up at my apartment with a bowl in tow - a bowl whose mystery contents she'd been carrying around all morning to her movie premiere too - I was afraid. And when I got close enough to smell the pungent onion odour, I was terrified. It was clearly some kind of dough, but not like one I'd ever seen before. The stuff was so stiff, she literally broke her wooden spoon in half stirring it.

She asked me if I had any caraway seeds. I didn't. So she
shrugged and asked if we had any left over coffee... which she promptly dumped on top of the dough.

I'm not going to lie. I respect you too much. I have no idea how liquid coffee could be a replacement for crunchy caraway seeds.

Staring at the monstrosity in the bowl before me, I had the urge to start muttering, "The horror. The horror."

She stuffed it into a loaf pan. We baked it for two freaking hours. And when it came time to turn it out, it fell onto the counter like a led brick.

She was enthusiastic. I was trepedatious. My husband looked at it with a raised eyebrow and said, "That's interesting".

Just when my confidence felt like it couldn't get any lower, my friend tried to slice it with our bread knife. I say tried because she pleaded no upper body strength and couldn't do it. My husband stepped up to the plate. He sawed away. It took a good 5 minutes to get 6 slices.

It looked moist. It smelled good. I slathered small hunk with hummus. And then magic happened.

It was delicious. Moist, dense, earthy... everything rye bread should be! Make no mistake though; it isn't your supermarket's rye bread.

Perhaps I had been too quick to judge. Sure, it had looked awful, smelled awful and broken a wooden spoon... but in the end, it was seriously tasty.

Hmm. Perhaps I should start being less judgmental with my bread.

Links to Recipes after the Jump!

One thing I hate: cooking for myself. So, it's leftover Singapore Noodles for me tonight. Now if only I could keep with my calorie count every day. =(