This is a rare day: I’m sitting at home with Pirate Booty Snacks to my left, a cup of warm apple cider to my right and a laptop in front of me. We always intended to get another laptop, but things have been moving at SUCH a fast clip.Anders has been fantastically busy at the Museum (where the PC resides from 9 to 5) and I have been crazy busy taking care of the kids, the house, and traveling from NYC so I can see family & friends. Hopefully, this gives some explanation as why my updates, blog or otherwise, have been relatively spotty.
When I tried to “revive” my blog (see the previous entry from a lifetime ago), I figured I’d have the time, the laptop, and the energy to write my commentary on what I thought would be reverse culture shock. There have been bits of that, for example, my frustration with American car culture or the unbelievably crappy cell phone service. What really threw me for a loop was realizing that I’m dealing with culture shock. After all, I’m living in New York City, with kids, in a neighborhood where the taxes paid per head are most likely more than my paid salary. This resembles nothing of the life I was living when I left the States nine years ago.
In a way, culture shock is much better than reverse culture shock. There are challenges to overcome (finding an apartment & a day care was a fright), new places to explore (Central Park, playgrounds, museums), and cuisines (surprising boring in this neighborhood). While these things can be frustrating, they are often exciting, too. I’m learning a lot about being a stay-at-home mom, American style. Theo goes to day care three days a week, which is extravagant, considering I’m at home with Livy. I was shocked to find out most day care facilities cost more per academic year than I paid for my college degree per academic year. What’s worse is so many of the day cares or pre-schools are only open 3 hours a day! (What’s the &%!* point?) Norway really outshines the US when it comes to gender equality, child support & education.
A pleasant surprise has been the overwhelming positive reaction people have to the kids, especially Livy. She rides on her tummy in her baby carriage, prompting all kinds of exclamations, smiles, and sometimes, debates. There’s a secret army of women who help me get Theo around on public transit and an amazing support staff of men who offer me their seats on a crowded subway. I am incredibly grateful for these small courtesies, since public transit is such a beast in this city (and that's when it's working).
And if you haven’t guessed by now, I’m seeing NYC through the lens of a child. I chuckle at the vision of myself, some twelve years ago and my trips to NYC. Twelve years ago, I basically partied my way through the city, its galleries and its venues, always ending the trip with a fantastic brunch. With the kids, eating out is not relaxing and seeing concerts is not a reality. (There’s just no way I can stay awake through the opening bands to see the headlining act.) Now I skip from park to playground, scour the city for cheap & tasty eats and find fun venues for Theo. I am far from bored, and I know we’re spoiled, living the good life thanks to the generous travel stipend Anders received from the University.
To be honest, I look forward to getting back to work, but there in lies the rub: work is in Norway. Fantastic Norway, organized Norway, ahead-of-the-curve Norway, sterile Norway, cold Norway. Never in my life did I imagine that I might suffer reverse culture shock in a place other than the US and I certainly didn’t anticipate how much I want to stay in this dirty, convoluted, backwards, colorful, vibrant place just a little bit longer.
FB (nearly) Killed the Blog Star
I haven’t blogged in a while, and while I could blame FB, the truth is I was struggling to find a topic. My heart wasn’t into the regular topics of kids, work, Oslo vs. Philly vs. Cairo, etc. Recently, a rather innocent suggestion prompted me to blog again.
We’re moving to NYC for 6 months and the people who are subletting our apartment have very little. Gratefully, all we have to pack down is our personal belongings (and yet I wonder where does all of this sh*t come from?). Anders had innocently suggested that I could leave my binder full of recipes for the subleters to peruse. I recoiled at the thought, then tried to shake it off, thinking that there’s nothing particularly special about this binder, so why not leave it out, and changed my mind one more time: that binder is mine.
There is no “Water for Chocolate” going on here, however, the binder almost feels like a diary. These recipes represent memories, places, and people. Here are a few selected entries:
From Oslo: Anders added his own favorite recipes to the binder that include rice pudding (risengrynsgrøt) and the rice cream & rice pancakes that are made from the pudding leftovers. I also have a rather unexceptional recipe for mango cheesecake. I value it because I had to learn how to make a graham cracker crust which turns out to be a lovely complement to the killer mango topping.
From Cairo: I have a slew of Egyptian recipes that include molokhiyya, potato salad, koshery and one amazing recipe for Banana Bread a roommate had downloaded from the Internet. To my great disappointment, I’ve never been able to replicate Hala’s amazing spinach, dill & rice dish. It’s not surprising since the recipe was given to me to me like this: “W’allahi ye Heather, it’s so simple: just add tomatoes, dill, spinach and rice.”
From Philly: I find these recipes to be a riot since they reflect the zeitgeist of what was new in food culture in the 90s. At the time, there was this burgeoning focus on meat and dairy replacement products, health food and organic food. For example, I have a recipe for a chocolate mousse pie filling made from tofu. I’ll never make it again, but I can’t bear to throw away the recipe. A lot of the recipes from this era came from the Internet at a time when the Internet was new. Most were downloaded & printed from fledging websites and they show how far web design and network technology has come.
From Athens: Athens was the first place I lived where I had to cook for myself (I lived in the dorms up until then) and what a place to learn how to cook. Rather unconsciously, I explored what I like and how to prepare it. This was pure trial & error, so I made a lot of mistakes in the process. Most of the recipes I have for Greek food were copied out of books after I came back. I certainly have memories tied to moussaka and tzatziki, and I irrationally keep six different recipes for béchamel sauce, even though I only use one.
Some of these recipes travel with me like family heirlooms. I can’t tell you how many times I copied or asked my mom for a copy of the Cinderella Cake recipe or the one for Famous Amos’ Chocolate Chip Cookies before they found a permanent home in the binder. The Cinderella Cake is my favorite birthday cake recipe and the Famous Amos Cookies are the *best* chocolate chip cookies in the world, provided you like raisins. These recipes followed me from Penn State to every place I’ve lived since then. While these recipes represent tradition, for me, they are more about quality of life. A birthday just isn’t a proper birthday without Cinderella Cake.
This binder represents just part of my issues with food. (My main issue is that there is far, far too much tasty food in the world.) All of these little issues and memories trapped in the binder will remain there until I deem it appropriate to throw them on the table. Like most food issues, it feels good to be in control of them.
Bon appetite, yo.
We’re moving to NYC for 6 months and the people who are subletting our apartment have very little. Gratefully, all we have to pack down is our personal belongings (and yet I wonder where does all of this sh*t come from?). Anders had innocently suggested that I could leave my binder full of recipes for the subleters to peruse. I recoiled at the thought, then tried to shake it off, thinking that there’s nothing particularly special about this binder, so why not leave it out, and changed my mind one more time: that binder is mine.
There is no “Water for Chocolate” going on here, however, the binder almost feels like a diary. These recipes represent memories, places, and people. Here are a few selected entries:
From Oslo: Anders added his own favorite recipes to the binder that include rice pudding (risengrynsgrøt) and the rice cream & rice pancakes that are made from the pudding leftovers. I also have a rather unexceptional recipe for mango cheesecake. I value it because I had to learn how to make a graham cracker crust which turns out to be a lovely complement to the killer mango topping.
From Cairo: I have a slew of Egyptian recipes that include molokhiyya, potato salad, koshery and one amazing recipe for Banana Bread a roommate had downloaded from the Internet. To my great disappointment, I’ve never been able to replicate Hala’s amazing spinach, dill & rice dish. It’s not surprising since the recipe was given to me to me like this: “W’allahi ye Heather, it’s so simple: just add tomatoes, dill, spinach and rice.”
From Philly: I find these recipes to be a riot since they reflect the zeitgeist of what was new in food culture in the 90s. At the time, there was this burgeoning focus on meat and dairy replacement products, health food and organic food. For example, I have a recipe for a chocolate mousse pie filling made from tofu. I’ll never make it again, but I can’t bear to throw away the recipe. A lot of the recipes from this era came from the Internet at a time when the Internet was new. Most were downloaded & printed from fledging websites and they show how far web design and network technology has come.
From Athens: Athens was the first place I lived where I had to cook for myself (I lived in the dorms up until then) and what a place to learn how to cook. Rather unconsciously, I explored what I like and how to prepare it. This was pure trial & error, so I made a lot of mistakes in the process. Most of the recipes I have for Greek food were copied out of books after I came back. I certainly have memories tied to moussaka and tzatziki, and I irrationally keep six different recipes for béchamel sauce, even though I only use one.
Some of these recipes travel with me like family heirlooms. I can’t tell you how many times I copied or asked my mom for a copy of the Cinderella Cake recipe or the one for Famous Amos’ Chocolate Chip Cookies before they found a permanent home in the binder. The Cinderella Cake is my favorite birthday cake recipe and the Famous Amos Cookies are the *best* chocolate chip cookies in the world, provided you like raisins. These recipes followed me from Penn State to every place I’ve lived since then. While these recipes represent tradition, for me, they are more about quality of life. A birthday just isn’t a proper birthday without Cinderella Cake.
This binder represents just part of my issues with food. (My main issue is that there is far, far too much tasty food in the world.) All of these little issues and memories trapped in the binder will remain there until I deem it appropriate to throw them on the table. Like most food issues, it feels good to be in control of them.
Bon appetite, yo.
Olivia Campbell Bettum
This announcement comes a little late, but with no less love: Olivia Campbell Bettum was born on April 04, 2010, weighing 2.9kg and 48cm long. Since then, she’s been sleeping, eating and exhibiting great patience as the rest of us get used to having two kids in the house.
Welcome, Olivia. I hope you remain patient with us and develop a sense of humor, too. We love you, Baby Girl.
Welcome, Olivia. I hope you remain patient with us and develop a sense of humor, too. We love you, Baby Girl.
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