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Saturday, August 23, 2008

Gladioli

Gladioli bloom at the end of the summer. They start appearing in stores and flower markets in mid August. Gladioli back in the Soviet Union did not behave differently.

For as long as I can remember Grandma always got a bouquet of bright gladioli on her birthday. I assume my grandpa gave them to her, because the flowers were always already in the vase when I got to their house.

If anyone asked me what Grandma's favorite flower was, I would say "gladiolus" in a heartbeat. Yet, when I think about it, I do not remember Grandma ever saying that she preferred gladioli over other flowers. Did she? Or did I make that assumption because she always got gladioli on her birthday? Or did she get gladioli on her birthday because she really did like them a lot? Hopefully, members of my family reading this blog will kindly share their memories on the subject.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Watching Olympics All Night Long

Do you wonder why this blog has been quiet? Too much TV watching, and I blame the Olympics. Every night, there is at least one or two sports that I just have to watch. Here are the results of my Olympic TV watching marathon.

First the bad:

  • I have been exercising patience in order to ignore NBC’s incredible bias in their commentary of almost every event in the Olympics. However, I am losing my patience and will start foaming at the mouth any minute now.

  • And why do NBC reporters want to tell the TV audience the results of what NBC is about to show? For example, I was watching the women’s team gymnastics. “And this is where it all went wrong for the Chinese team,” said the commentator, while the Chinese gymnast took a deep breath preparing to do a vault. Sure enough, she landed on her butt. Later I caught a glimpse of the qualifying rounds for 110 meter men’s hurdles. “You are about to see a false start,” pronounced the commentator about 3 seconds before the gun fired. Why do we, the TV audience, have to be told what we are about to see?
And the good:

  • While everyone seems to be in love with Michael Phelps, I am in love with his dog.

  • Synchronized diving mesmerized me, while other people I know found it absolutely hypnotic. (Maybe I did too.)

  • Women’s marathon: 1) what happened to Deena Kastor, and 2) what happened to the fastest pregnant woman on earth, also known as Paula Radcliffe?

  • Did you know that women’s beach volleyball uniform requirements are specified down to centimeters, and restrict the maximum coverage the uniforms can provide! In other words, these women cannot wear more clothing if they wanted to, not even tight shorts!!!

  • Figure skating should be a part of all Olympics games, because gymnastics, the seemingly equivalent summer sport, is just not the same.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Chocolate Truffles by the Spoonful

Like many women, I love chocolate, and chocolate truffles hold a special place in my heart. The bitter taste of cocoa powder on my tongue turns sweet as I bite through the rich chocolate center. Only special occasions deserve such special desserts.

When I was little, living in the Soviet Union, I remember both my mother and my grandmother hiding chocolates. They did not hide them from me. Rather they saved these difficult-to-obtain chocolate covered wafers to serve them to guests.

While there is no shortage of chocolates in the United States, I still save the particularly fancy desserts for a special occasion. Several years ago, when someone gave me a box of chocolate truffles, I put it away. I wanted to treasure it until a particular gathering warranted such a fancy dessert. Unfortunately, no occasion seemed important enough, and nearly a year later the treasured truffles still lingered in the back of my pantry.

It is indecent to serve a year old dessert to anyone, let alone special guests. So one night when other chocolate supplies have dwindled in our house, I opened the box on my own. Instead of pretty balls of chocolate ganache covered with cocoa powder, thick brown liquid spilled out of the box. I almost threw this chocolate mess away, but I could not bare to part with it. Instead, I indulged in liquid chocolate truffles for the next several months—one spoonful a night.

Eating chocolate truffles with a spoon is not something people imagine often, and even Nick found it a bit odd. So next time someone presented me with a box of truffles I was determined to use it while the truffles were still in a solid state.

Alas, it was not meant to be. A few days ago, I opened the box only seven months after receiving the gift, and it revealed the familiar sweetly bitter thick chocolate liquid. So I am back to eating my liquid chocolate truffles every night, this time out of a glass jar—still one spoonful at a time.