Rambutan

My son brought some home to try. (I'm very happy that he is an adventurous cook.)

It's okay. I wouldn't go out of my way to find some, but perhaps there are recipes that use this ingredient well.

Of course, you wouldn't want to eat it unpeeled.

If we didn't collect anything, how would we remember who we were?

Just finished reading The Hare with Amber Eyes, by Edmund de Waal.

Enjoyed it thoroughly. I agree with the reviews on the back cover, such as "To be handed a story as durable and exquisitely crafted as this is a rare pleasure"; "Mr. de Waal's nostalgia is tart, tactile, marvelously nuanced."

I don't quite agree with the advice from the reviewer in The Economist: "Buy two copies of this book; keep one and give the other to your closest bookish friend." It's fine advice if you have lots of money to spend, but noting the great pleasure I received from this book is the closest I can come to "giving" it to friends.

The book did inspire me to make a trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, in search of netsuke, the tiny Japanese wood and ivory carvings that inspired de Waal to write this memoir. I also wanted to look at ceramics (de Waal is Professor of Ceramics at the University of Westminster, and writes with feeling and intelligence about the mystery of why we find some objects beautiful).

But first, breakfast at Beck's Cajun Cafe, located in Reading Terminal Market.

I chose red beans and rice with andouille sausage, a fried egg on top, and two big chunks of cornbread - the Cajun breakfast bowl. Excellent fuel for a day of walking around museums.

Then I hopped on a bus for the museum, and went in search of netsuke. I did not find any. (Later, though, I did find an image of a netsuke rabbit on the web.)

(This image is misleading, since netsuke are tiny, no more than three inches high. All that detail in a tiny, tiny space.)

And I saw lots of other interesting things. Suspicious saints.

Chinese snuff boxes.

The face of Bhairava.

A 17th-century monkey with an earring.

And a 17th-century dog with two earrings.

And in the sculpture garden, a giant Claes Oldenburg plug. (Items related to electricity are very popular in Philadelphia public art.)

Then I took a shuttle to the Perelman Building across the street, which houses a textile and fashion museum, among other exhibits.

The current exhibit is Great Coats - the museum owns lots and lots of couture, and they periodically exhibit various pieces. How about this stunner?

You can read about it here:

The museum gift shop featured some fascinating and horribly expensive pieces of apparel, including these cool boots:

All in all, a good time wandering around looking at collections of stuff.

I'll end with a selection from one of the amazon reviewers of The Hare with Amber Eyes:


What are objects to us? Do they change when we hold them, display them, give them value? Do they "retain the pulse of their makeup?" If we didn't collect anything, how would we remember who we were?


Collecting photos and memories is a way of figuring out who we are, I think.

Morning to evening

I have been busy all week - happily so.

On Tuesday, for example, I arrived at work a bit early, as the sun was rising.

And the first light was touching the street sculpture near the office.

After work, I took a very nice group of physicians out to dinner, and then walked to the train station.

Philadelphia at night is quite pleasant, as long as you are in the right part of town, and the weather is good, and you have a reasonable amount of good luck (because bad things can happen anywhere).

And you like puzzling over odd displays in store windows, such as this roller skate sculpture.

What a voice

Eva Cassidy - such a talent, too short a life.




When we walked in fields of gold . . . I think of this song, and this version of it, every autumn.

Another weekend in September

Absolutely gorgeous weather in Philadelphia this weekend. Here we are on Friday, in the city.

And here we are in Pennypack Park (also in Philadelphia), on Saturday.

Back to the office.

And then again to the park.

Nice weekend. Biked 16 miles on Saturday, did a lot of yardwork and housework, cooked and cleaned. And walked Beanie. I like the nice long walks on the weekends.

So - a quiet but enjoyable weekend here. A memorable, beautiful, tiring, and wonderful weekend for Internet friend Nina.

I do not heart melancholy

Weather so beautiful you just can't stay in the office all day, no matter how much work is piling up.

So I walked down the street, and noticed that a new exhibition had opened at the Institute of Contemporary Art, where admission is free. Who could resist?

It was a Jeremy Deller installation. I had never heard of him (don't know much about art in general).

You can read more about him in Wikipedia.

The first room was a funny concept - as a teen, he used to hold clandestine "art shows" in his house when his parents were out, and the room was supposed to represent his bedroom from those years, with a sample of his early work. Apparently he divides his work into periods, depending on whether he was inspired by Keith Moon, David Bowie, or Neil Young.

I have to say I'm not a huge fan, based on this one view. But it was interesting. And who am I to complain about a free art show?

By the way, this show is an opportunity for hungry unemployed people to get a free lunch. All you have to do is agree to spend a few hours every so often as a living part of the I Heart Melancholy part of the installation. It's a black couch in front of a black wall, and the volunteer just has to sit, lie down, or nap on the couch while visitors walk by and stare. The guy today was lying down with his back to us, apparently sound asleep. Even from the back though, he did look depressed.

The other installation, Valerie's Snack Bar, features a real person sitting behind the counter of the snack bar. The woman who was volunteering as the living part of this installation was reading. I'd rather be part of Valerie's Snack Bar than I Heart Melancholy.

Visitors are not allowed to take any photos inside the rooms of the exhibit, or I would have more interesting photos.

Back at the office, I noticed that the fountain in the garden looked great in the autumn sunshine.

Autumn begins

Today was a bit of this and that, which describes most Saturdays.

Neil biked at the park, but I walked Beanie, who occasionally sat down (but not for long).

I'm glad I took pictures of the corn last weekend, because today the fields were shorn to the ground.

This reminded me that these fields are not just there for photo ops - they represent hours and hours of hard work and the investment of lots of money on someone's part.

The plants that remain are looking quite autumn-ish now, and still quite beautiful.

Grades for the two online classes I teach have to be turned in by midnight on Tuesday, so after the walk in the park I hurried home to sit in front of the computer for several hours.

I cooked, of course. What might these ingredients make?

Hmm . . . fennel, sausage, tomatoes, fennel seed, vermouth, olive oil, and broth.

Soup, of course.

And it was delicious. This recipe is a keeper.

Dinner was very autumnal. Chili on rice with sour cream and fritos, and a glass of dark beer.

Aaaah. Good Saturday. And there is still another day of this weekend to enjoy.