Fantastic Omelet

It's early September, and here around Portland, with the way this season has gone, that means tomatoes, zucchinis, cucumbers, green beans, and a host of other veggies are hitting their peak. Or at least they are in my parents' backyard, which has become my charge while they are out of town. (This also means I have a car through next week, yay far-away errands!) Given this, last night I came home with a metric buttload of vegetables. Pretty much every meal I've made in the past couple of weeks has already included tomatoes, cukes, zukes, and/or corn thanks to them. I'm heading towards capacity, but I need to raise my threshold because honey, ain't no one else here who's gonna eat these things like me.

Today was my sleep-in day. I have some eggs I've been ignoring for a while. I have veggies. I have various spreads and sauces leftover from trips to TJ or cooking adventures. This added up to omelet for brunch. And it was FANTASTIC. I ate it before I could snag a pic or even before my toast could finish toasting, but here's a general recipe:

Fantastic Omelet
serves 1

2 eggs
splash of soy milk or whatever milk
margarine or butter or oil or whatever
handful mixed cherry tomatoes, quartered
3/4 handful slivers of onion (I used a Hermiston Sweet)
Trader Joe's roasted red pepper spread with eggplant & garlic
cilantro pesto (recipe follows)
about 1/4 cup shredded cheese (I used leftover four cheese mix)
salt
pepper
Italian spice grinder spice mix thing (contains rosemary, garlic, sundried tomatoes, sea salt, basil, other stuff)
toast spread with margarine (or butter, if you're into that sort of thing)

Beat eggs with milk and salt, pepper, and random spices to taste until eggs yolks and whites are nicely mixed. Set aside. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt a little margarine and sauté onions until wilted, just a few minutes. Add tomatoes and stir to heat them thoroughly. Add a thwack (approximately one knife-scoop) each of cilantro pesto and roasted red pepper spread. Stir to mix and warm, then turn off heat. In a larger saucepan over medium heat, melt some margarine and turn pan to cat bottom and sides evenly. Pour in egg mixture and allow to cook through, until the surface of the egg pancake is no longer soupy but before the pan-side browns too much (use a spatula to lift up an edge to peek). Carefully pour the tomato/onion mixture onto one half of the omelet. Sprinkle the cheese on the other half and continue to heat for about a minute or until most of the cheese is melted. If it's not all melted yet, don't worry, it will. Carefully use a wide spatula to life up the cheesy half and flip it over onto the tomato half, then slide the omelet onto a plate. Eat. Mmm. Don't forget your toast, too, because you need some fiber in this meal.


Cilantro Pesto
I once had pizza with a cilantro pesto base from HotLips and decided that I could make the same pizza but for way cheaper than $5 per slice. Here's what I ended up with. It's great as a pizza sauce, pasta sauce, on sandwiches or wraps, or whatever. I should mention now that I am very pro-garlic. I also haven't been doing a lot of kissing. Coincidence? I think not.

one bunch cilantro, rinsed and the really stemmy parts removed
handful pinenuts or other nut
handful feta or some other cheese
six cloves garlic, or whatever approximates your taste for it
olive oil
sometimes I add a handful of firm tofu, too, which thins out the flavor, makes a smooth sauce, and adds secret protein

In a food processor (or whatever you use for mashing things together), toss in the garlic, a splash of olive oil, the nuts, cheese, and half the cilantro. Chop chop chop mix blend until smooth. Add the rest of the cilantro and repeat. If choppy or not smooth, add a little more olive oil.

the gender trail mix

Only the second post, and here I am straying from my prescribed subject matters. The second post was supposed to be about a bread-baking adventure. It's still stored in draft form from weeks ago. The post before that one even was supposed to be a review of PDX Pop Now! 2007. Let's suppose I'm just not much of a journaler/blogger these days, and I'm still trying to transition from LiveJournal to Blogger.

But this is ridiculous. I'm not particularly feminine. My natural grace is lacking. My voice is not sweet and soothing. I have a hard time nurturing. My feet are large and wide. I am a chemist. (Not a strikingly feminine career.) My hair is shortish, my shoulders wide. And, let's face it, I have a more of a 'stache than the typical female and most young men, but I'm kind of over caring about it and keep it around, unbleached, unwaxed, unlasered, as a testament to my attempts at being completely comfortable with my body. (Attempts, attempts, trying trying trying.) However, given all that, I still think I'm pretty outrightly female, if not my huge breasts and wide hips, then at least the overall suggestion that my parts and attributes make toward my gender identity.

Why is it, then, that I can't go a week without being referred to as "sir" or referenced as "he" or "him"? For the most part it's been at work--I make a helpful remark to visitors and the parent interprets it to their child, but says "Did you hear? He says it's because of..." or I'll hear "Pardon me, sir?" directed at me. The first time it happened, it was a cute mistake. The second, an odd coincidence. The third worried me a little, but the final, final straw came when I was at a venue, idling my time between band sets, and someone--a male in my age bracket--squeezed past to get to the bar, uttering, "'Scuse me, sir." Ok, now, at the museum, there's a lot going on, visitors are not really paying full attention to everything, lots of distractions, my lab coat hides a lot of features, so a "sir" remark or two is permissible. But I am out on my free time. I am engaging my social role, going to a bar to see a band, I am playing the game that you play at places like that, all sex: music is sex, sipping your drink is sex, eying audience members is sex, your narrow pants and fun shoes and band t-shirt and hair mussed just so and nonchalant pose is sex. The game you play at venues and shows and bars is sex. I am female. I play the female part in the game of sex which for me is hetero and I do NOT want a potential player, even if the potential be so so minuscule as to be negligible, thinking I am a dude. (Unless he was cute and into dudes in which case... but I digress.)

The following arguments are going to sound superficial and trite thanks to my lack of clarity when arguing. I'm all for fluid gender roles. Yes, I think our language and society lack enough words and understanding to describe the various genders of which people identify. There was even a time when I sought more androgyny and primarily shopped in the mens' section, strove to play mens' roles in classes, and I still mostly find comfort in mens' shoes. I've deviated from that to being rather nonchalant or calmly feminine, even going so far as wearing dresses casually instead of reserving them for "nice" occasions. I've adopted more traditionally feminine roles in embracing cooking and baking and feeding others. I want to be soft and sweet and nurturing as much as I want to be tough and protecting and striving.

This is probably a good time to mention that lately I've realized that I'm struggling to get out of my clearcut views. Growing up, this were either very clearly one thing or another, no gray zones, even through most of college, which I think led to some of the snags. Chemistry is comfortable because it is so clearly either black or white, proven or theoretical or wrong, things that work and click together or cannot, will not work. As interactions progress in the greater world, I've tried adopting a broader accept and move on attitude rather than getting hung up on the judgment of clearly good or clearly bad, though I have to be very very conscious of it. It's all human, infinitely complex and varied. Accept and move on.

But still, I am soo not a sir.