November 21, 2009

• Obama, and the Presidents of Japan, Russia, and China were all at hotels within ½ a mile of our house last Saturday night.

• One of Jacey’s classmates’ father works for homeland security at the Embassy. She got to shake Obama’s hand at a morning reception for Embassy families.

• The Great Chicken Rice Incident -- The Elementary school cafeteria had Chicken Rice for lunch today. Chicken Rice is a Singaporean specialty. Singaporeans rave about it. They take a whole chicken and cook it one of two ways; blandly roasting it without spices so the skin is a golden color and the meat a blandly bland flavor, yet still chickeny, or, they blandly steam it without spices so the skin is a pasty white color and the meat a blandly bland flavor, yet reminiscent of chicken. These whole chickens are typically displayed in all their golden or pasty glory, with full heads and feet, prior to being chopped for the chicken rice. The “rice” in chicken rice is rice cooked with a splash of chicken broth, and a touch of something unidentifiable – possibly fish sauce? – to give it a slightly undesirable flavor. Rice is plated and chicken placed on top. Voila! Singaporean Chicken Rice, La. Just after lunch I receive a call from the school nurse. We have become good friends, exchanging Christmas cards, Facebook friends, and vacationing together since Jacey visits her several times a week (Tucker dated the Riverplace Nurse through all of 2nd and 3rd grade; she would have made a nice daughter-in-law). Nurse said, “Jacey had Singaporean Chicken Rice for lunch today and says she has a chicken bone stuck in her throat.” I try not to snicker while imagining a Fred Flinstone-sized bone stuck in Jacey’s throat but still I ask if she’s ok. Yes, she is ok said Nurse. “Is there really a bone stuck in her throat?” Nurse didn’t think so but her professional stance wouldn’t let her giggle just in case Jacey were to suddenly keel over from a misplaced chicken fibula. “Can she talk?” Nurse said yes and of course she wanted to talk to me. “Daddy, I have a chicken rice bone stuck in my throat.” But she’s talking to me, not crying, not gagging, not coughing. “Jacey, is there anything you want me to do?” Jacey says no. “Jacey, I think you should go back to class and I’ll see you after school.” And she replies, “Ok, Daddy.” And thus ended the Great Chicken Rice Incident. Stay tuned for the Great Swimmers Ear Incident.

• Thursday it rained continually (or continuously?) from noon through the evening. It rained so hard it woke me from my noon nap. My late afternoon nap was thankfully intact and quite cozy. It rained 4 ½ inches or as they say here, “110 mm”, in the 2 ½ hours between 1:00 and 3:30.

• It’s Thanksgiving in Singapore! As usual the Mathii are flexible with the actual celebration day. Tucker’s birthday party was last week (actual is Monday photos: http://www.mathii.com/TuckerBday09.html ), Thanksgiving is Sunday (well, you know), and we’ll be climbing the Great Wall on Thanksgiving like the Pilgrims did.

• Thanksgiving Prep – Cooking and cooking today! Today is stuffing prep, pecan pie, pumpkin pie, Mom’s yeast roll for breakfast, and Janine’s sweet potatoes. Yesterday worked on the cranberry sauce and made two batches of fudge (one with and one without pecans imported from Texas). Tomorrow is that Sunday tradition of waking up to college football followed by Turkey and dressing and all the fixings. And maybe a swim or lounging about the pool to remind ourselves that we are in Singapore.

• Cenie was astounded (horrified?), that the fudge required 3 cups of sugar. And the second batch took 3 cups of sugar. AND the pecan pie took a cup of sugar. And the cranberries took a cup of sugar. AND the pumpkin pie took a cup of sugar. And then we had to send Tucker to the market to get more sugar and whipping cream for the sweet potatoes and powdered sugar for the coffee cake icing. It’s the holidays.

• A friend saw monkey road kill this week. That’s a first. I was jealous.

• I always hesitate to bake just because I hate to clean up the flour that hardens everywhere. Not a problem in helper-land. Roll out a pie crust, put it in the pie plate, flute, flute, flute the edge, turn around once and wave the wand and the counter is clean, floor is swept, and the bowl is ready for the next event. Seriously, I didn’t even have to wave the wand. Cenie cleans faster than Jim and she asks far fewer questions than Janine, though she won’t have a glass of wine at 10 a.m. with me either. Trade-offs. Drinking alone isn’t so bad.

• It’s so humid I’ve left my cornbread for the stuffing out to dry and it won’t.

• While I was flute, flute, fluting the pie crust I asked Cenie to mix the pecan pie ingredients. I kept an eye on her as new recipes are sometimes confusing for her. My attention lapsed while fluting. The sound of a can opener registered. There are no cans required for pecan pie. Wait! I saved the can of cream corn to live another day; it was headed directly into the sugar, butter, egg mixture for the pecan pie. When you’ve never in your life seen CORN syrup OR cream style CORN (OR a pecan pie for that matter) it’s easy to get the two mixed up. Apparently.

• My fudge came out like chocolate jaw breakers. Note to Julie: Bring the candy thermometer to Singapore.