About Jessie

Thanks for stopping by. This blog was borne in late 2010 as a way to document the sights, eats, and experiences in Guangzhou, China. After two years, six countries, numerous meals, and countless encounters with locals later, I'm back temporarily in Washington, DC (and I love it). I'll be jetting off again to Africa in 2013, so keep on coming back for some good reads!

More than the Average American

triple ribbonThe mood’s been pretty somber in this lit­tle house of ours, and all around the For­eign Ser­vice com­mu­nity. We’ve lost another friend, and this time it hits much closer to home.

Yes­ter­day morn­ing, scrolling down my Face­book page, I saw the same updates that I always do — cats doing funny things, links to old school music videos, an increas­ing num­ber of kids, and of course, pho­tos of food. I was stopped cold when I saw the cap­tion of a friend/the DiploMan’s close col­league. She had lost a friend in a sui­cide bomb­ing in Afghanistan. A quick assump­tion was later con­firmed — Anne Smed­ing­hoff, killed while on her way to donate books to stu­dents in a school in Qalat, was indeed among our wide yet deeply inter­con­nected cir­cle of For­eign Ser­vice friends.

Sud­denly cats doing funny things, links to old school music videos, an increas­ing num­ber of kids, and pho­tos of food seemed so trivial.

One day and mul­ti­ple news accounts later, I’ve read up more about the news and about Anne, who was only 25. Death seems so much more arrest­ing and unimag­in­able at such an age. Anne was in the DiploMan’s A-100 class, which is sort of like a Freshman-class of sorts when you enter the For­eign ser­vice. For six weeks, about 80 U.S. cit­i­zens from all walks of life learn not only about how to rep­re­sent the US gov­ern­ment abroad but also about each other. Pic­ture lots of class time, but many more din­ners, retreats, week­ends, lots of happy hours, and even more con­grat­u­la­tory hugs and happy high-fives when you learn where every­one is going to their first post. Anne was one of the youngest in the class, a fresh-out-of-college grad­u­ate. See­ing her pic­ture today, I jog my mem­ory and there is faint rec­ol­lec­tion of meet­ing her — a soft-spoken yet strong-willed young woman, per­haps so soft-spoken because she was still an ado­les­cent sud­denly thrown into cir­cles of adult­hood — our crude jokes, our metic­u­lously curated din­ner par­ties, our already jaded views on our 20’s, our some­what hope­less view of sav­ing the world, of the gov­ern­ment, of the oppo­site sex, of get­ting older, of…well, of everything.

Maybe I met her, maybe I didn’t. This blog puts my feel­ings into words; she may have been some­one we all knew, rep­re­sent­ing so much youth and so much enthu­si­asm in serv­ing our coun­try overseas:

What I am cer­tain I rec­og­nized was the smile, the aura of the under-30 crowd, the dis­arm­ing ordi­nar­i­ness (as opposed to banal­ity) and eager­ness of our newest pub­lic ser­vants. That aura seems to me the norm now at Foggy Bot­tom, and in much of the coun­try, and it’s prob­a­bly a sign of my age as much as an indi­ca­tion of the lure of Wash­ing­ton itself.

Din­ner last night was a lit­tle less chatty than usual, and we got up a lit­tle ear­lier this morn­ing than on typ­i­cal Sun­day morn­ings. I can’t help but worry about my friends over­seas, our future posts, and most of all my Diplo­Man, who is sit­ting in his chair right now read­ing the New York Times and jam­ming to his one of his favorite Spo­tify sta­tions. We are nor­mal peo­ple, doing nor­mal work, maybe mov­ing around a lit­tle more than the Aver­age Amer­i­can, tak­ing a few more trips to exotic loca­tions than the Aver­age Amer­i­can, but always act­ing with our best inten­tions — like deliv­er­ing books to new schools in war-ravaged nations.

Read more about the news in the NYTimes here, a state­ment from Sec­re­tary Kerry here, and on one of my favorite FS blogs, here. There’s also a heart­break­ing state­ment from the Smed­ing­hoff fam­ily, here. The bomber also claimed the lives of three Amer­i­can sol­diers, one other civil­ians, and three Afghans. None of these killed are any less impor­tant than our friend Anne.

Tastes + Adventures

Been think­ing a ton about our upcom­ing move to Africa — we just got in touch with our spon­sors, who is the fam­ily (or some­times, indi­vid­ual) that con­tacts you, greets you, and makes sure you set­tle in as smoothly as pos­si­ble. We’ve been research­ing how to get a car, where to do yoga and Muay Thai, how to get into the yacht club on our penin­sula, Google-Earth-ing our neigh­bor­hood like crazy, and more impor­tantly, I’ve started hoard­ing lots of liq­uid goods in antic­i­pa­tion of our still TBD-packout date.

cropped-Peeps-Indian-Header-270px-01.jpg

Which brings me to this blog. I’ve gone back to Peeps From Abroad, because in my heart of hearts, that’s what this blog always is to me. Check­out the new header logo too; I’ve taken out the Chi­nese mar­ket lamp (oh, how I saw SO many of those lamps while in China!), and no longer am I “West­ern Thoughts From An East­ern Land”. It’s now sim­ply: “Tastes + Adven­tures Over­seas”. Because, that’s what I plan to do, a lot of.

Just in case you don’t remem­ber, here’s the old header — I’ve obvi­ously got­ten illus­tra­tor and been play­ing around with a few fonts.…

cropped-peeps-banner.jpg

Any­way, make sure to stay tuned. Lots more updates com­ing up in the next two months.…

Two years without a Big Mac? Easier said than done.

Pigeon-1

Liv­ing abroad will make you do funny things. It’ll have you mak­ing friends with indi­vid­u­als you never would at home, it has you going on adven­tures you wouldn’t ever think you would, and it has you eat­ing things you never thought you’d eat.

Yeah, sure, I’m talk­ing about crazy foods like insects, intestines, pigeons (which is on the lovely plat­ter pic­tured above), duck tongues, and chicken cook­ies (yes, that’s a thing). But I’m also talk­ing about fast food: Burger King, KFC, Sub­way, and McDon­alds, the last two of which were my per­sonal vices in China. Here at home, I rarely eat McDon­alds, and Sub­way even less. One, because there are so many other options for a burger or sand­wich these days. Two, because of the social con­dem­na­tion I’ll face from all my foodie friends and my healthy com­mu­nity. Three, because they’ve been mak­ing too many movies about how fast food will kill you these days.

But when I was in India, and I had a hor­ri­ble stom­ach thing where I couldn’t keep any­thing down, the only thing I craved and could stom­ach was a 5-pc box of chicken nuggets. And it was so com­fort­ing, so deli­cious, so famil­iar — as good as a bowl of chicken noo­dle soup, I swear. There we go, my mem­oir might just be called “Chicken Nuggets for the Soul, A Life of Eat­ing Abroad”.

When abroad, not only are these places and the food they serve more famil­iar, but I firmly believe they actu­ally taste bet­ter than when eaten at home. At these fine over­seas estab­lish­ments, I look around and things are cleaner, peo­ple are hap­pier, it’s an all around more pleas­ant of an experience.

no mac map

So today, when I came across this pretty awe­some info­graphic that charts coun­tries with­out a McDonald’s, my heart felt a lit­tle heav­ier. Africa def­i­nitely has got some catch­ing up to do. And then I zoomed in, and then, I’m not going to lie, I gasped a mini gasp of dis­ap­point­ment when I saw that Tan­za­nia was indeed blue — a deep, dark, empty shade of blue. I don’t think I’ve ever stepped foot in a coun­try that did not have a McDonald’s…

Luck­ily, I know for a fact there are Sub­ways fran­chised in Tan­za­nia. Don’t worry, it’s only when I’m abroad.

info­graphic c/o hejo­rama

9,647

Screen shot 9647 photosCur­rently wait­ing as my lil lap­top (go Mac­Book, go!!) exports my iPhoto col­lec­tion onto my shiny new Lacie Min­imus exter­nal hard drive, only to import back into prop­erly labeled, dated, and edited fold­ers in Light­room. After talk­ing about it for a year, am finally get­ting putting this whole ‘photo orga­niz­ing’ thing to the test. And as that screen­shots indi­cate, why yes, I do take self­ies with my par­ents’ dog when I visit their home.

9,640, 9,639, 9,638…and counting…

An extremely wordy post about date flakes.

Wow. Three weeks flies by pretty quickly. I’m drop­ping back in again, with the hopes that you haven’t totally lost faith in me and my increasingly-sporadic rambles.

But the excit­ing thing is, in my absence from blog­ging, I’ve devel­oped so much (SO MUCH!) that I want to share on this blog, rang­ing every­where from pack out antic­i­pa­tion, to new work projects, to recent trips across the states, to upcom­ing trip ideas, to new ideas in gen­eral. Excuse this lit­tle bit of word vomit, I took one of these this morn­ing. So now, where does one start?

shields date flakes

I know, let’s start at the begin­ning. Some­times the begin­ning means at the header of a page, some­times it means at a marked start­ing line, but today, my begin­ning is start­ing with break­fast — as many of your morn­ings do too, I gather. (Cau­tion: If you’re not into wordi­ness right now, I’d sug­gest you skip to the bot­tom, because admit­tedly, this is a very long entry with a lot of fluff in the middle).

Every morn­ing I wake up hun­gry– this is a staid fact in my life– which means I have some assem­blance of a break­fast every morn­ing. It’s usu­ally more sim­ple than any­thing fancy, mean­ing that I gen­er­ally avoid turn­ing on the stove to make break­fast. I make my slice of toast, or juice, or bowl of oat­meal, and then eat it, in front of my com­puter, simul­ta­ne­ously check­ing emails and let­ting my mind wan­der to things such as the break­fast rou­tines of other peo­ple. You see, it’s a bit of a yearn­ing of mine to have the same break­fast every morn­ing, like many of you claim to do. Fresh yogurt and home­made gra­nola with beau­ti­ful fruits every morn­ing is the pre­ferred sta­ple, but I’d get down with a slice of hearty-grained toast with peanut but­ter too, and seri­ously even just half a grape­fruit every morn­ing. As long as it’s every morn­ing. Though I so des­per­ately want for one of these rou­tines, and have tried so hard in the past for weeks at a time to turn myself into an everyday-same-breakfast-er, I’m never com­mit­tal enough, nor sure enough, nor deci­sive enough, nor have planned ahead enough, to have one sin­gle item for break­fast every day. It really is one of my desired goals though, and there — I just shared with the world one of my embar­rass­ingly super­flous, and highly unnec­es­sary goals in my life.

date flakes- in the bag

Recently part of my break­fast has been a green juice, which has been made semi-routine-ish thanks to the addi­tion of our shiny new *expen­sive* blender. And inter­spersed here and there, par­tic­u­larly if it’s cold and dreary out, I’ll heat up a big bowl of oats. If you too like to encounter a bowl of steam­ing hot oat­meal in front of your face in the AM, I am highly sug­gest­ing the addi­tion of date flakes, or date crys­tals. The name date flakes sounds a bit gross, and look just slightly less so, but I promise you they add a world of fla­vor and com­plex­ity to an oth­er­wise sim­ple bowl of hot oats.

And here, is where the point of this blog post actu­ally starts (I warned you ear­lier of wordi­ness, so you can’t fault me for that now).

I first tasted date flakes in Palm Springs, where date flakes have been a rag­ing fad since the 60’s. By now, it can be stated they have out­run their sta­tus as a fad and are turn­ing more into a local sta­ple, some­thing for tourists to seek out should they find them­selves in the Cal­i­for­nia desert. In Palm Springs, where a date indus­try has cre­ated a name for itself, date flakes are mostly used in hybrid milk­shakes, or rather, frozen-yogurt health shakes cre­ated from the hippie-bohemian types that tend to fre­quent Palm Springs.

After con­sum­ing one of the afore­men­tioned date shakes, I told myself I would go home and make a date shake every day to sat­isfy my sweet tooth. How­ever the act of pur­chas­ing and drink­ing a date shake in Palm Springs and mak­ing a date shake in your blender at home, some­how, some­where, presents a large gap of dis­co­nu­ity, where your date shake at home tastes noth­ing like the one you had in Palm Springs. This phe­nom­ena hap­pens often with ham­burg­ers and hot dogs, as well as with milk­shakes in gen­eral, and some­times Chi­nese Food and other types of eth­nic foods.

Which leaves you with a lot of date flakes you antic­i­pated on mak­ing shakes for in your pantry, to be used now for what.…?

date flakes - in the hand

The answer is oat­meal. I pre­vi­ously would always add brown sugar in my oat­meal, but this has since changed. Date flakes are hard and crunchy out of the bag, but when heated in oat­meal become melted and soft and become one with the oats (yes, I just said “become one with oats”). They add a height­ened com­plex­ity of sweet­ness that plan old sugar or honey does not, and since they’re nat­ural, they’re infi­nitely health­ier than processed sugar.

I’m excited to try to sprin­kle these date flakes into a banana or zuc­chini bread WHEN I GET AN OVEN AGAIN, but in the mean­time, these lit­tle can­died pieces of dates are absolute heaven in my semi-routine break­fast bowls of oat­meal. Shield’s Date Gar­den is one of the more famous com­pa­nies who sell date flakes out of the Palm Springs area (and who also offer online order­ing), but any other brand you might find would prob­a­bly be fine. I’ve yet to ever see these at any Whole Foods or health store on the East Coast, so I’d rec­om­mend order­ing online. Also, sorry for that photo of my extremely dry hands. Win­ter here in DC is killer.

Oat­meal with date flakes

  • 1/2 cup old fash­ioned oats
  • 3/4 cup — 1 cup water
  • 2 tsp date flakes
  • accom­pa­ni­ments: blue­ber­ries, peaches, and/or wal­nuts, cashew nut milk or soy millk.
  1. Rinse oats once under cold water and drain. Add up to 1 cup water. Heat in microwave for 1 minute, then add date flakes. Heat for another 1 minute, watch­ing care­fully as the oats will have a ten­dency to over­flow (if it does, take the bowl out and stir, then con­tinue heating).
  2. Add accom­pa­ni­ments as desired. If you’re feel­ing crazy, add a pinch of salt to your oatmeal!

Shields Date Flakes - closeup

I’m also excited because date flakes and oat­meal with soy milk fits into my plan to go Gluten Free for a few weeks. I’m telling you, I’ve got a lot to say since I’ve missed blog­ging for a few weeks. But there’s more research and plan­ning that needs to be done for that, so for now we’ll leave it as yet another silly and super­flu­ous goal I’m set­ting in my life.

400 gallons of oysters

big dinnerCur­rently work­ing on a fun post and dig­ging up some info on our past pres­i­dents, namely the par­tic­u­lars about how they liked to eat. Did you know William Henry Har­ri­son liked squir­rel stew? Yeah, he was also pres­i­dent for one lonely lit­tle month and was the first to die in office…

Regard­less it’s always inter­est­ing to re-evaluate food fads of a gen­er­a­tion, espe­cially back in the early part of the 19th and 20th cen­turies. While doing some research I stum­bled across this lit­tle sparkler of a list, what a party it would have been:

Menu for the James Buchanan Inau­gural Ball—March 4, 1857

400 gal­lons of oysters

60 sad­dles of mutton

4 sad­dles of venison

125 beef tongues

75 hams

500 quarts of chicken salad

500 quarts of jellies

A four-foot cake

$3,000 worth of wine

James Buchanan, the only bach­e­lor pres­i­dent, thought that mul­ti­ple inau­gural balls were out­ra­geous wastes of time and energy. He rein­stated the sin­gle inau­gural ball con­cept, but had to con­struct a new $15,000 build­ing* on Judi­ciary Square in Wash­ing­ton to accom­mo­date his 6,000 guests. Guests were served on long tables set against red, white, and blue walls, and when their appetites were sati­ated they danced beneath a white ceil­ing glit­ter­ing with hun­dreds of gold stars.

**Menu & Text from “A Taste of the Past: White House Kitchens, Menus, and Recipes”//Image cour­tesy of Library of Con­gress photo archives

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