Queenkv’s Brainpickings

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Like the evolution of Sin City, I’m also learning about what I can and can’t do with my body at age 30.

Despite my crazy work hours, I’m still finding time to stay active and balanced. I try to fit in sun salutations and breathing exercises before work. On my weekends, I go running on the bike trail behind our house. Sometimes, I manage to sync up my weekends with the freestyle schedule at Vacaville Ice Sports.

I noticed it’s also taking me longer to recover from physical activity. There are days when my leg muscles remind me I’m no longer a teenager. In high school, I used to be able eat a meal before hoping on the ice. Now, I need at least 2 hours between eating and exercise. Or else, I feel bloated and nauseous. Plus, it kinda hurts to fall. At least, it hurts a little more than what I remember from my time on the ice….more than a decade ago.

I’m also feeling some of the physical strain from work. I spend hours at my workstation: typing up stories, mouse-clicking on video and letting my back stiffen under the pressure to break news and beat the competition. Sometimes it feels like a Goofy-sized stopwatch is sitting on my shoulders as I race to finish my teases and headlines before showtime. And those crazy work hours? I’m lucky when I can fall asleep in the daytime and catch 6 hours of sleep. Still, I’m still happy to be doing my dream job in my home state. I think exercising outside of the newsroom helps me stay sane and works out any aggression I have left over from whatever.

Oh yeah.
I also did something pretty stupid with my yoga practice back in Kansas. This time last year, I was in a plank position and I felt a tweak in my left shoulder blade. Then I kept going with the asana. I spent the last 12 months with a sore shoulder blade and back. It felt like I had a hot dog-shape lump wedged between my shoulder blade and spine. I thought I could tough it out, like how I treated twisted ankles and bruises during my skating days. I figured more yoga, stretching and loving massages from the hubby would straighten everything out.

It’s been a year and I think Mark’s hands are sore. He recommended I check out a chiropractor. I found a chiro practice that also used massage therapy. The doctor took some X-rays and found evidence of my Pathfinder-flipping days. Apparently, my neck curves in a different direction from a normal one. He said that’s consistent with a bad car accident injury. He also showed me signs of my skating days. I have a hip bone that’s turned inward severely. He said it’s probably from all the thousands of times I fell on the ice. My coaches once said I’d learn something from all those falls and I guess my body took away a souvenir from the experience.

So, after the last few weeks of back cracking and adjustments, my hot dog-shaped lump has shrunk and I’m not feeling a tweak in my shoulder blade when I do my yoga practice.

I think I can still play as hard, but I have to take care of my body.

Now, who wants to race me on the ice?

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offal: 1: the waste or by-product of a process: as a: trimmings of a hide b: the by-products of milling used especially for stock feeds c: the viscera and trimmings of a butchered animal removed in dressing (from Merriam-Webster)

Anthony Bourdain often said cooks learned how to make the nasty bits taste good out of necessity. Eventually, those tasty dishes get elevated to gourmet dining because it demonstrates the cook’s skill in working with all the edible scraps, trims, bones, guts and more.

For chefs like Cosentino, cooking with offal has been transformed into an art form. It’s a nod to the tradition of past chefs who made do with little and a look forward to healthy, sustainable eating.

Almost 7 years ago, I would have never thought I’d be part of the offal dining movement. In our early dating years, Mark and I did Valentine’s Dinner at Incanto. It was an intimate, romantic dining scene. This was before Chef Cosentino exploded on the TV food scene with Iron Chef America. Back then, the food tasted delicious, refined, hearty and I wanted seconds. In 2008, I can’t wait for our next dinner at Incanto.

St. Paul’s on Easter Sunday, originally uploaded by queenkv.

After the shortest Easter Sunday Mass at St. Paul’s (45 minutes), we also celebrated with an Easter Supper Dinner at Incanto.

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originally uploaded by queenkv.

The mass had a running commentary for the Lenten season. It was weird but it would have made more sense if we caught the explanation at the beginning of the ceremony.

After church, we kicked off our private taxi service. We picked up my Medill buddy, Sara, near UCSF. Next, we went back to Topeka (a street in SF. Serious!) and picked up my Kansas co-worker, Dana. We made it out of Bayview and headed down to the Mission to see Susan and Tom and their doggies.

It was a beautiful Sunday night — meeting new people, catching up with friends and eating good food. I was running on fumes and a couple of hours of sleep but I was just happy to spend time with my friends.

Susan and Tom introduced us to Circolo. It’s a hip Asian-inspired restaurant in the Mission. On Saturday nights, it turns into a dance club. The servers were nice and patient with our group. I am always a sucker for foie gras and I enjoyed our goose liver trio. This appetizer had three preparations of foie: savory, sweet and succulent. I also digged Susan’s entree: a tasty sea bass with a miso glaze. The fish tasted delicate, with a delightful buttery aftertaste. I also enjoyed my veggie dish, the shitake risotto. The creamy arbrio rice was the perfect canvas for the yummy chunks of mushroom.

Bottom line: it was a pleasure to explore new flavors with this intersection of friends from Berkeley, San Francisco, Medill and Kansas.

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It’s been a fun getting to know our new home town of Vacaville. I’ve also had a blast returning to my home state of California. We may be living out of a suitcase, but we’ve found ways to fill this week with nesting chores, shopping, eating and other new resident experiences.

It feels so good to be home. We’re still renters but I think we can catch-up on our debt with the nice pay boost from my new job.

I think Daisy’s adjusting to her new life in California. The puppy must be thinking: “I’m not in Kansas anymore.” It helps to have a huge backyard and a doggie door. Mark managed to make that door fit with cardboard pieces. He also drilled holes through the aluminum panels. Such a handy hubby!

I also love our running/bike trail that winds ’round behind our house. I like watching the red, orange and yellow leaves falling on my morning jogs. It’s like watching the end of fall in my backyard. Who said California didn’t have seasons? (OK, may be I did! Still, I’m fine with skipping winter, really.) Waking up to 50 degrees now feels balmy to me.

I’m happy my parents are up and checking out our new house. It feels so comforting to have family living only 6 hours away. Daisy freaked out with the new people in her territory. After some submissive pee, she eventually settled down and let them pet her. She’s a nervous puppy from the pound. We’re simply trying to figure out and adapt to her anxiety issues.

We drove around Sacramento today — we drove by my new station and had dinner in Old Sacramento. My EPs’ e-mailed my training schedule for the next two weeks. It’s a little overwhelming but I can’t wait to start working. I know I can rock this Capital City by working hard and playing harder.

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