GreensandBrowns

thanksgiving 2016 menu

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Tue, 06 Dec 2016 05:48:00 +0000

arugula & persimmon salad.

yuzu cranberry sauce.

lemon panko green beans.

roasted cauliflower w/fish sauce vinaigrette.

garlic mashed potatoes.

garlic noodles w/dungeness crab.

kimchi, bacon & oyster stuffing.

candied yams.

baked ham.

deep fried turkey.

caleb chronicles: day care

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Fri, 21 Oct 2016 15:05:00 +0000

This feels important.

I don’t think it’s a privacy concern to share in this space that Young Master Caleb’s birthday is October 14. He turned two on a grey, rain-soaked Friday, the first of the season. We had celebrated his birthday the weekend before with friends and family in our home. The actual day wasn’t meant to be anything out of the ordinary – save for one thing. Emmelle and I both took the day off from work to visit his new school (day care) with him prior to transitioning fully the following Monday. We intended for the day to begin with a visit to his new Montessori day care and conclude with birthday cake (or “cape” as he calls it). Like many celebrations, it was a day for ends and beginnings. We also meant for it to be void of surprises and emotions. Whoops.

Before I share any further, I’d like to go back a year (since of course, I don’t actually document anything on this blog). During a frenetic September/October 2015, we sold our condo in West Oakland and simultaneously moved to a single family home further east in the Oakland Hills. Fortuitously, a Montessori school resides just a block down the road from our new home. Emmelle immediately placed a deposit to secure a spot for Young MC for when he turned two. Montessori schools are extremely highly regarded for young children. These activities felt like things that good, caring parents would do - moving away from the hipster confines of West Oakland into a more suburban neighborhood, looking forward to advancing his educational prospects.

We discovered a vacant spot at another nearby day care for Young MC to spend his next year. Miss Jenny, the only nanny he ever had, said her final goodbye shortly after we moved. It was not a difficult decision; she had expressed that our new home was an arduous trek each day and Young MC had reached an age in which it became more difficult for her to effectively care for him as her expertise resided with younger babies. He did not seem to harbor explicit notions of attachment either, perhaps simply a symptom of how young he still was at the time. In short, this first move did not feel like we deprived him of anything he truly cherished.

……….

I remember the first day we escorted him to his new school – just a quick visit to acclimate him to his new surroundings, not unlike what we intended to do on his second birthday. We sat our little munchkin at the meal table with his new friends for snack time, and he immediately took to the activity. It was a great relief, it was incredibly adorable, it was his new life for several hours a day. That is not to say that the transitional phase was void of difficulty. We certainly experienced our fair share of crying during morning drop offs and endured the pangs of guilt that all parents do. It’s difficult to recall that he had not taken his first steps by this point. Young MC, ever the cautious fellow, had physically developed long before this time to stand on his own – and possibly inch one foot forward. But he chose not to, not until he reached 14 months. Instead, he would immediately squat down and position himself back to what was most familiar. And as “good, caring” parents should do, this guarded personality would alter how we thought about his transition.

He quickly grew comfortable at his new school and found comfort with one teacher in particular - Miss L. Over time, he sought her out in the mornings. Young MC would practically shoo me away as long as he had Miss L close by. She texted us pictures and videos. At school, he giggled, he learned to wipe his nose, he ran in circles with his classmates and squealed cheerfully. He established his full appreciation for anything with wheels - trains, trucks, buses, airplanes and tractors. I'm certain he came home with a couple of bite marks on his arms because that appreciation was a little too strong and selfish =).

The seasons passed all too quickly. During an arid Indian Summer, we debated sending him to school in tank tops. As fall turned to colder months and a harsh rain, Young MC caught every cold possible – for what seemed like months and months. He healed and grew stronger. The rains gave birth to a warm spring. The kids played outside; Young MC left day care each day with a handful of playground sand in his shoes as evidence. He came home with food stains, art work and the occasional Ouchie Report. Then came the summer and his first official “summer break”. And then fall. A year passed.

……….

We arrived at the Montessori school on Friday morning. The school, a converted home in our neighborhood, rests behind a heavy wooden gate facing the street. We walked inside to find a colorful playground and outdoor toys to the right – large dinosaurs and trucks. On the left, up a small flight of stairs is the patio leading to the school. The patio is jammed with shoes, kids’ outerwear of all sizes into personalized cubbies. On this rainy day, there were rain boots and jackets adorned everywhere. Amidst all of this, I found a hand-written cubie with Young MC’s name on it. Once the teachers admitted us inside, Young MC carefully watched older children participating in a variety of activities – most commonly in self-contained environments. A couple of children cried. The teachers explained that they were newer students, only having been at the school for “two to three weeks”. I had been mentally preparing for about a week of hardship in the morning drop-off. Perhaps it would be much worse. Young MC clung to his mom tightly and would not budge without the confidence of knowing she would be right next to him. More than anything else in his first two years, we’ve learned that he is an introvert. It takes a series of interactions for him to develop a comfort with anyone.

So how could we really alter his routine?

We left in less than an hour and drove a short way to his school. We joked uneasily in the car ride about how difficult the following week would be. We both silently wondered how much stress this would put on our little guy. He rubbed his eyes in his car seat, already tired from having woken up so early in the morning. I felt sad knowing what he didn’t know. Today would be his last day with Miss L and his familiar environment.

Young MC refused to walk down the corridor, and we carried him down the hallway to his classroom. Miss L greeted us at the door, and he reached out for her immediately. She picked him up and squeezed him firmly; he rested his tired head on her chest and rubbed his eyes – an intimate move he perhaps does only with his mom. Miss L gave him a kiss, believing this to be the very last time she would be doing so. She handed us a wrapped package. A birthday gift.

I stepped back and walked down the hallway, fighting off a sudden burst of emotion. I couldn’t pinpoint it to one thing but a confluence of factors. The feeling that tugged at me most was this growing dilemma that Young MC was unknowingly saying goodbye to somebody whom he truly loves. And no matter how limited his cognitive and emotional abilities are at age two, it's undeniable that he understands want and loss, Emmelle finished her goodbyes and caught up to me towards the front door. She had tears in her eyes. We stepped out and briskly walked back to our car with the rain steadily pouring down. Emmelle wept. I fought back some tears. She wondered out loud if she should run back inside and plead to retain his spot.

Plans change. Emmelle resiliently darted back into the school to reverse course on a decision we’d been working toward for a year. We were not concerned about losing the security deposit, only to ensure the optimal environment for our son. Moments passed and I watched as my wife walked slowly back toward the car, wiping tears from her eyes. “Oh no, we are too late”, I thought to myself. It turns out these were tears of relief. Thankfully, the daycare principal immediately assured Emmelle that Young MC would be welcomed back with open arms. We sat in the car silently for a moment, listening to the soft rain fall on the roof of the car. It was one of those moments as husband-and-wife in which you can have a silent conversation. Score this day a win for good parenting.

We drove to a nearby diner and reflected on the morning over a hot cup of coffee. In the grand scheme of all things, this is merely a blip on the radar. But on that day and even looking back in retrospect more than a week later, it feels important. We understand that we can’t shield our son from all discomforts throughout life. But we can bring pause every so often. He is still of a tender age in which shielding and guarding feels synonymous with helping him to grow and develop. I’m sure parental books say otherwise. I actually don't care beyond the grinning toddler that we see in front of us. Lo and behold, his new day care allowed us to defer the transition for another year. Security deposit not wasted and honestly, the best possible outcome. But yes, we will be going through this again next year.

For the record, we stopped by one of our favorite bakeries in the area and picked up a Tres Leches cake. He blew out two candles. And then he did it one more time. Happy Birthday, son. Omma and Ahpa love you. It’s been a long time since I’ve written this:

Thanks for stopping by.

tsukushinbo - seattle

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Wed, 03 Feb 2016 06:02:00 +0000

Disclaimer with my sushi musings: I am legit. I’m the dude who ate here.

It has been a long time. Gone and lost are many of the things that I’ve meant to write about over the last several months – small, inconsequential stories that have helped keep me sane while transitioning to fatherhood of a toddler, selling our condo and buying a single family home, leaving my job of ten years and starting anew. All of these momentous things that have unfolded over these last few months, I am hoping I can revisit.

But the days are short, real responsibilities seemingly endless. This little digital haven is often neglected.

Nevertheless…

Speaking of my new job, my travel is significantly reduced but I’ve found myself in the Seattle area a few times now. With each visit, I expect it to be my last for a while, only to be summoned for some new, distinct reason. There are two outstanding sushi joints that I have laid claim on as my own – one of the two is called Tsukushinbo. It is a fantastic, local spot that surprisingly doesn’t show up in all of the Top Lists – a farcical outcome purely from a lack of a marketing arm. But its better if this one stays off the radar and owned by true connoisseurs of Japanese fare.

They have a fair amount of cooked dishes (I’ve tried a limited amount) that satiate on a cold Seattle winter night, but it’s the omakase that is worth noting in my opinion. At time of writing, the chef’s choice combines ~15 highly creative and well-sourced pieces, many of which come from the famed fish market – all for a cool $55. GET OUT OF TOWN. What a bargain. Paired with craft Japanese import beers, this is my preferred Seattle spot.

Thanks for stopping by. Keep the faith, more posts coming.

caleb made it to one

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Wed, 14 Oct 2015 23:22:00 +0000

There are a couple of monumental things that have happened in our life since my last post and this one will screw with the chronology of it all, but c'mon, our son turned one! Here is a quick synopsis of what the past year has been like.

Kudos to the ever-warm, always-motherly Emmelle and happy birthday to our dear son.

Thanks for stopping by.

adult orthodonics: volume II

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Mon, 31 Aug 2015 03:37:00 +0000

Back when I wrote volume I of this tome in February of 2014, I left devout readers ABSOLUTELY hanging by concluding that I would write more on the topic in six months. Alas, I never did!

I am happy to announce that the opportunities to write more on this topic with all of this gear in my mouth will (should) be short-lived. October 9. That’s the scheduled date for extraction, and I couldn’t be more excited. Looking back on the whole thing – a full two years has come and passed – I realize now that there is really nothing of interest to say about it. Its uncomfortable, its annoying, its slightly embarrassing; that sentiment doesn’t fluctuate in the slightest.

Save just one thing.

It has been remarkable to watch Young Master Caleb reach milestones – both physical and mental. The advances he has achieved after hitting ten months have especially been impressive and stunning. It feels like an awakening of sorts, starting to get to a place in both mind and body with full realization of self and his environment.

Just a handful of weeks ahead of this recent development however, Young MC had reached a point in his progress to recognize that something was peculiar or at least unique regarding the contents of my mouth. He would curiously poke and prod and stare inquisitively. Or we might be playing together. He yields a smile, I smile; he stares and ceases all activity. The prodding commences. It’s time to investigate this familiar man’s teeth again. His eyes basically scream, “WHAT IS THIS?”

He will of course not recall any of this in future years. But for the time being, I must appear monstrous. And if not for familiarity, there would be no affection or interaction awarded. I would be like another stranger – accept a grizzly machine-like version. Don’t get me wrong; it feels warm and wonderful when he shoves his index finger into my mouth. Yet it’s a harsh reminder veiled in a cute pudgy finger. You are different. You are not supposed to have this all over my teeth. All would say the same if not for the niceties demanded by our society.

October 9 cannot come soon enough.

Thanks for stopping by.

tanoshi - upper east side

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Mon, 10 Aug 2015 18:08:00 +0000

The majority of my visits to NYC keep me confined to the midtown / Times Square area. In fact, I’ve had some depressing business trips in which all of my dinner meals are prepared and delivered by hotel staff. At times it’s unavoidable with the amount of work and people meeting necessary in a condensed amount of time. But it engenders an unbreakable, unwanted habit. As the kids say, this falls within the range of a “first world problem”. But who cares – I live in the first world. And this is a problem.

With Young MC’s arrival, my east coast trips have (fortunately) been less frequent. And those less frequent trips have become shorter as well. Gone are the trips in which I would bridge two weeks’ of meetings with a drunk fest weekend in Washington D.C. So, I should be making the most of these less frequent, shorter trips? Otherwise I would find myself in a perpetual loop of the worst kind of business travel, the ones in which all of the minor perks you lean on to get you through the week are null and void.

A couple of trips ago, I made my first visit to Brooklyn (really, after like 30ish previous travels to NYC). On my most recent jaunt, I made a solo dinner reservation at a place called Tanoshi – an unassuming omakase joint on the upper east side. I am getting adventurous!

Tanoshi consistently popped up on high grade sushi establishments I researched in the city. The lone one I’ve previously been to was Sushi Yasuda near Grand Central. The omakase menu by itself is worth a trip. 10-12 pieces plus opportunity to order anything else on the menu a la carte. There are just a few seats in the diminutive, unassuming establishment – all things to help you get into a mode of focusing on nothing but stripped down fish. But when you add the ~$75 cost and bring-your-own-beer/wine/sake, it turns into an incredible deal.

And you know that I’m the be-all-end-all authority on raw fish. Remember, I’m the dude who ate here. I will brag about that until I die. Seriously, if I’m talking sushi with anyone, a reference to that leads to wide-eyed bewilderment and awe. It instantaneously provides a legitimacy like few things in my material-driven life. “This guy is SERIOUS about his fish.”

Anyway, finding top grade sushi joints on any of our travels is always a priority for me - whether its professional or personal travel. I might as well try to seek them out more frequently to the food mecca I visit more than any other.

Thanks for stopping by.

happy father's day

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Mon, 06 Jul 2015 04:21:00 +0000

My first Father’s Day came and went.

I find the holiday pretty much nonsensical – unless of course you are a male parent raising your child(ren) on your own. In my first eight months as a parent, I can say without hesitation that dads serve as much utility as this blog. By this blog, I mean, this blog. Certainly, parents will carve out a day-to-day rhythm with distinguished responsibilities. But take the father out of the equation and everyone will comfortably survive (thrive) to the next day. And the one after that.

The other way around? Anarchy, destruction, complete chaos. I don’t know about you but I can’t envision domestic anarchy without visualizing a kitchen faucet run amok and potato chips splayed across the counter. Devastation! Its what would happen if Emmelle exited stage GreensandBrowns for more than a night. Its hard to fathom the thought.

Perhaps I am being excessive in my critique of our (collective fathers everywhere) value. There are a couple of tasks that fully rest on dad’s shoulders…literally. Any jobs that are becoming of a mule or sherpa; these are great responsibilities for dad.

And for hauling luggage from one location to the next, we celebrate dads everywhere. How did I celebrate? We couldn’t get the timing right for a lunch reservation and ate quickly at a (our future) neighborhood bakery. With Young MC in good spirits, we went grocery shopping. Yes, yes – big things on this day. He fell asleep in the store, and I guzzled a frosty pale ale in the parking lot, wrapped around a pair of cotton shorts we'd purchased for him earlier. It was perfect.

Happy Father’s Day to you. Happy Father’s Day to me. And most importantly, Happy Father’s Day to Emmelle.

Thanks for stopping by.

what i need that i don't need: TOMS grey chambray brogues

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Fri, 12 Jun 2015 16:49:00 +0000

In light of my recent (very personal) sharing of some essentials that I need, I figure it would behoove all to know exactly what comes down from the list and re-categorized into the "I got my hands on it" bucket. As an anecdote, I recently received the same Batman shirt for my birthday. This is just unacceptable and can easily be avoided with a list such as this.

By the good grace of the lord, I've recently obtained an item on the list, which undoubtedly is making me a better person. I've kept a pair of TOMS in my shoe rotation since the brand launched some years ago but excited to add these slightly less casual shoes into the rotation.

~~pair of grey shoes~~

Young MC, this is what your dad is wearing in 2015.Thanks for stopping by.

stuff that i need that i don't need

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Wed, 10 Jun 2015 20:57:00 +0000

In an effort to help all of the GreensandBrowns readers with future gift-giving needs, I have dedicated a whole page on the blog to curating my greatest necessities. Please see the link below:

stuff that i need that i don't need

Thanks for stopping by.

caleb chronicles: who are you

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Tue, 12 May 2015 20:21:00 +0000

The purpose of this blog, the main purpose, was to document some of my life's joys and blessings as they happened in a semi real-time format. So that, years down the road, I could complement any amount of videos, photographs, holograms (?) with my actual thoughts. Putting pen-to-paper once every six months doesn't seem to jive with that intent, especially if these last six months coincided with months two through seven for our young son, Master Caleb.

Our son is almost seven months old (!), and the intent of this post has changed a bit. At original time of writing, he was just one month old, and we still knew very little about him. Since then, he has revealed quite a bit of his personality. He seems to be fairly mellow with some very quickly escalated bursts of rage. I am generally very scared of him. He gives away smiles fairly quickly (too easily) to strangers but that has changed very slightly in the last couple of weeks as the concept of "Stranger Danger" seems to play a more integral role in his disposition.

But what I originally intended were some things that are secondary thoughts, and mostly concerns. Its easy to pick out elements of his personality that he'll likely retain for life. But what about things that don't reveal themselves for much longer? And the things that I'm fretting about are a laundry list of questions such as "Will you have back problems like your father?", "Have I passed on any unhealthy ailments?". All fully out of our control, and all that much more worrisome.

Nevertheless, by virtue and hard work of his mother, he is a happy, well-fed baby. His curated photo album below:

Master Caleb, who are you?

Master Caleb's Flickr Page

Thanks for stopping by.

caleb chronicles: i'm so tired

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sun, 09 Nov 2014 17:40:00 +0000

Please do me the courtesy of hitting the play button on the YouTube embed before you start reading this. Much like the last thoughts shared about Master Caleb, there's plenty of words to draw upon from our rock heroes of the past.

At time of writing Master Caleb has just fed, has a fresh diaper strapped and stands (or lays) a couple of days shy of four weeks. In between sentences, my eyes shift over to he and his Mamaroo where I can see him fully approving of the gadget's calming rhythmic movements (he is sleeping). Four weeks! I'm learning quickly as a new parent that there are an infinite amount of non-milestones and achievements to celebrate. But let's be clear, this one is a win for his parents, mostly Emmelle. Four weeks of keeping him alive. That feels like something significant considering where we started weeks ago.

The beginning of all of this? Well, Emmelle's contractions began in the wee hours of a Monday morning - midnight to be more precise - and from that point until we rushed to the hospital after 9am that day, we individually dozed off for about 20-30 minutes. After admittance into the delivery ward, the waiting game began. We waited. And waited. I received a suggestion over text from my sage sister, Colonel Mustard, to get some shut eye as it would be a long night. Too much anxiety, anticipation and adrenaline. Impossible. Fortunately (and much more importantly), Emmelle did in fact snooze for a bit. And then we waited some more. And late on Monday - perhaps around 11pm - the delivery began. Monday left us and turned over to a new day of week, a new date on the calendar to perhaps call Master Caleb's very own.

12:52am. He arrived. There are tears, laughter, joe, awe (There's a whole lot of this, but I want to talk about how tired we are). A few hours pass before we are finally admitted into our room. It is after 5am now and the nurse offers to take our youngling off of our hands for a couple of hours so we can get some sleep. We gladly accept, and sleep finally comes - just about 30 hours after the labor began and roughly 45 hours since our last material sleep.

And little did I realize that would be our rude and abrupt introduction into parental tiredness - relentless and seemingly everlasting. Everyone tells us it gets better. It will, it must??

The real sacrifice, as with all things as parents, comes from Emmelle. She is the one at home with the littly guy for four consecutive months. She is the one that can provide sustenance in the middle of the night and soothe his growing needs. And she is the one that does this around the clock. I, on the other hand, have been back at work for the last couple of weeks and have to miss one or two feedings per night, depending on how mischievous he chooses to be with us on that given night. When I am at my most useful, I will take young master downstairs so Emmelle can have some short but continuous sleep, void of his small cries and fussing. But there's a rub there too. Unless we have specific bottle feeding plans during that block of time, I quickly usher Master Caleb up the stairs to his food source right when he demands it. Like I said, abrupt. There is no lead time, there is no warning. All of your nerves are tested in those moments.

"I'm so tired". So tired.

There is another Beatles lyric that comes to mind right now: "It's Getting Better All the Time". Right?

Thanks for stopping by.

caleb chronicles: is this love that i'm feelin'

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Tue, 28 Oct 2014 18:23:00 +0000

While nothing may feel more comforting than a couple hours of snoozing, I'm fighting the urge for a few minutes as the need to record some of my fresh thoughts on all that's happened over the last couple of weeks (and beyond) takes precedence. I figure these sentiments will hold a lot of value in future years. And may it be a reminder, as gentle as an anvil dropped on top of my head, of how difficult these first two weeks have been with precious Master Caleb in our lives. You know, just in case silly notions of repeating this activity may occur in the future.

Tonight, two weeks in, I wanted to touch quickly on the notion of love, attachment and responsibility. In short, I'm finding that they can be mutually exclusive as easily as they are intertwined. And for me, its been very much my sense of duty and devotion to Emmelle, far greater than feelings of affection for our newborn, that have driven me to be a responsible parent. This has been an interesting revelation for me - I've thought through the entire pregnancy that I would immediately be infatuated with our bundle of joy. Don't get me wrong, I am elated at his arrival. But at this stage of his life, I derive much more satisfaction in mundane task-oriented activities that I know are supporting Emmelle (and indirectly Master Caleb), rather than staring into his pudgy little face for minutes on end. In fact, I am a little lost during those rare moments his eyes come alive and tries to make sense of his surroundings.

I am not disappointed by this; it all makes perfect sense. I am in the beginning stages of my relationship with my son unlike Emmelle and all mothers who have the opportunity (and the grave sacrifice) of fostering a nine month courtship in the womb. I watched Emmelle seamlessly transition from anxious expectant mother to a confident parent, full of pride and love for her own flesh and blood. It has been the most rewarding experience of everything so far, and again, is a true driver for me to be a good father - still trying to figure out what that means.

So Master Caleb, hopefully when you are not so much a baby one day and can read and comprehend your old man's words - I am comfortable with you understanding that our relationship began with a sense of responsibility and love...for your mother.

Son, I love you today, but perhaps not the way that I had anticipated. This might sound negative to some. I disagree. Its perhaps a testament to the promise of the bond to come. I'm really looking forward to everything.

Thanks for stopping by.

barcelona and san sebastian 2014

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sat, 25 Oct 2014 00:08:00 +0000

caleb is here!

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Tue, 14 Oct 2014 07:53:00 +0000

There is a very good reason my updates have been so sparse in recent months. I've been diligently observing Emmelle incubate her very own child (inside of herself) and have found minimal interest in writing about more trivial matters. I deliberately use the word "observing" because I'm pretty certain I did little else during these past nine months. Meanwhile she has been a total champ, enduring all of the discomfort and hardship that come with pregnancy.

So, fast forward nine months and lo and behold, our little Caleb - Yong Hwa in Korean - arrived in the first hour of Tuesday October 14, 2014.

I write this roughly a week into Caleb's arrival. In the little time I have left of paternity leave, I hope to document some of the thoughts and experiences in the early going. Overall, it has been incredibly challenging, eye opening beyond belief (i.e., how can parents go through this multiple times?!) and all the while, little Caleb occasionally reveals some of the true joys of our life together that are about to come.

Thanks for stopping by.

London 2014

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Fri, 19 Sep 2014 16:27:00 +0000

baby adeline growing up

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sun, 08 Jun 2014 06:48:00 +0000

I'm sure I'll look back in a few years and regret not having posted more about the first couple of years of my beautiful niece's first couple of years of life. In fact, it's been over a year since the last one (her baptism).

She is roughly 18 months now, and I wonder if this handful of months represents the greatest disparity between understanding how things work and an inability to act/react due to immature motor skills. It is humorous for now (see the video), but a sobering thought when you realize that a similar disparity exists when your body deteriorates. Not sobering, mildly depressing. But let's stop there. This is meant to be a celebration of young, budding life and all of the discovery and achievement that comes along with it.

One other point. I recently acquired a new reader. He shall go nameless for the time being. But he gave me some feedback that my posts are generally too lengthy. I am not reluctant to admit I enjoy the written word from time to time, but these more recent posts - mostly in video form - are a direct response to that criticism. Please enjoy.

Thanks for stopping by!

2014 pasadena and los angeles

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Thu, 05 Jun 2014 23:05:00 +0000

Congrats to Eddie Money.

First video attempt with the Nikon 5300 exclusively with a prime lens. I used it frequently in Spain and UK but I'm sort of working backwards towards looking at all of that footage. Nevertheless, great results; can you imagine how it would look with a talented shooter?

Thanks for stopping by.

a few pics from barcelona: la sagrada familia

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sat, 03 May 2014 17:27:00 +0000

The second of two Gaudi works that we visited (the other, La Casa Mila). And honestly, we did not see enough. This guy is unreal. That is my expert opinion. The cathedral is intended to be complete in about a dozen more years - 2026. It seems like a good buffer from now to a second visit to this amazing city.

Oh yes. All of this is undoubtedly a tribute to Jesus. Don't be fooled; he is clearly a fancy man with ornate preferences.

View from the back entrance.

Thanks for stopping by!

a few pics from barcelona: la casa mila

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Wed, 30 Apr 2014 23:35:00 +0000

Geeze. I didn't intend for the whole of April to slip by without having collected anything here. Life is moving a little faster than I'm able to document. But its easy to pick up where I left off with some additional pictures of our last trip - now two months old. I still have a little video to put together. Without further ado, Barcelona. Actually, I change my mind. Here are pictures from one of the two Gaudi works we visited - La Casa Mila. They are probably the best photographs taken of this apartment.

I should probably say a few words about my experience. Here goes: Gaudi is a neat man who probably experimented with all sorts of interesting drugs (this may be slander). I was speechless to discover that these are basically smoke stacks.

Thanks for stopping by! I am lazy.

a few pics from london

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sat, 08 Mar 2014 18:22:00 +0000

Emmelle and I spent roughly two weeks in mid to late February living it up in London -> Barcelona -> San Sebastian. Here are a smattering of pics from the Londong leg of our trip. Note that I've replaced my busted Nikon D60 with the D5300. A world of difference - same "photographer", better tool = better photos. Amazing!

A view of Parliament from the Thames River. There is nothing else to say about this - maybe (sadly) that this was probably the best of the best Parliament photos that I took. Also of note, we weren't invited in to speak on this day...not sure of the reason.

St Paul's Cathedral in the background, the Millenium Bridge in the foreground. Anyone who's visited the Tate Modern Museum is familiar with this view. I carried around my tripod during this portion of our trip, so I regret slightly that we couldn't be on the riverbank just an hour or two later when all of the wonderful 'mood' lighting gets turned on. Some of the urban grit looks quite lovely in a myriad of colors - I'm sure there's a lot of folks that would disagree.

Westminster Abbey. We actually had time to do this tour. It is a big church with a lot of dead people buried inside of its halls. I'm not sure there's more to say than that. Emmelle adds, "There are a lot of dead people."

Eye of London.

I am a little ashamed to admit that we rode this beast (completely my idea). I think again, it would probably look pretty cool in the dark with all of the city lights turned on, not so much during the day. And you quickly realize that you are standing in line with tourists who've just spent an amazing afternoon in Ripley's Believe it or Not or Madame so-and-so's wax museum. Regrettable mistake, totally my fault (great picture though).

Thanks for stopping by!

history's greatest day: volume 33

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Thu, 27 Feb 2014 19:44:00 +0000

I'm not sure if it's mere coincidence, but the greatest day of the year occurred on the same day as it did in 2013, Februrary 27. That's right, it's already come and gone. The rest of 2014 is basically on a downward trajectory; we should all look towards flipping the remnants of this calendar year.

And how exactly did Emmelle and I celebrate said day of magnificence? Well, by dining at one of the world's most renown restaurants of course. On the last full (non-travel) day of our recent London-Barcelona-San Sebastian romp, we dined at the famed Arzak. Spoiler alert: It did not disappoint. A great great meal - delicious, fun and memorable.

Headed into the meal, I read a Yelp review written by a Korean American about her epicurean experience. Included was a description of her interaction with the owner, Juan Mari Arzak. When she mentioned that she was of Korean decent, he told her that he had one Korean friend, David Chang of Momofuku. After reading that, I became very excited about sharing a similar experience - and fully ready to drop that we were Korean. When our moment came with Arzak, he also inquired about our ethnic background. In response to our Korean heritage, he claimed that he knew the best Korean chef, of course David Chang of Momofuku. It's good to be prepared; we probably had the longest chat with him among non-Spanish/Basque speakers that night. I don't care if he asks this question to every dark haired/small eyed individual that walks into his famed doors; it was pretty cool.

Our dinner menu is re-typed below. Fantastic photographic memory? Hardly, they actually gave us personalized printouts of the menu based on our actual selections. For example, it includes the wine that we drank (half bottle of the Roda Reserva 2008) and excludes dishes that we did not choose (simple but terrific nuance to the whole experience). The courses with multiple dishes outside of the first, were basically an "OR" selection. As all couples should, we chose one of each to maximize our sampling.

First Jiro's and now Arzak. Honestly, the best establishments in our own backyard seem fairly reasonable (i.e. French Laundry).

Thanks for stopping by!

Scorpion fish mousse with kataifi

Mushroom with nuts and citrus

Beans with olives and apple

Gilda with carrot and ssamjang

Chorizo with tonic

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Beet root blood apple

Apple injected with beetroot accompanied by creamy foie gras and potato "mother of pearl"

Cromlech, manioc and huitlacoche

Crispy manioc hydrated with huitlacoche stuffed with a preparation of onion, green tea and foie gras

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Lobster "Sea and Garden"

Grilled lobster with a crispy star shaped crepe and fresh greens

Volcanic oysters

Warm oysters over black salt, smoked vegetables and light acid touch

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Ovo-lacto

Egg with semi crunchy shell and baobab accompanied by "lactic leaves" and curds

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Sole with "snow"

Sole fillet served with a crust of fermented yucca, mussel and tamarind sauce and its snowman

Fish steak with potatoes

Fillet of seabass lightly marinated with gin and served with several flavors of potatoes

++++++++++

Wild duck and seeds

Roasted duck breast over a selection of dried fruits accompanied by an elaboration of seeds like pumpkin, grape or sunflower

Venison with plaster and Jerusalem artichoke

Deer and roe deer loin served with roasted and plastered Jerusalem artichoke, fried chestnuts and their juice

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The Big Truffle

Largue cocoa and sugar truffle with a creamy chocolate and carob filling

The Circus: Diabolo and Calamansi

Under the tent of a circus, diabolos soaked in calamondin with chocolate, carrot ice cream "melted" and piece of colored clay

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Acai granita

Bitter almond ice cream "sauced" with acai and fruit ice

Suspension jelly

Roasted and smoked pineapple with vanilla covered with cloche and suspension jelly set with carrot and orange

adult orthodontics

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sun, 23 Feb 2014 19:49:00 +0000

I’ve had braces for over six months. Scratch that. They are not braces; the American Association of Orthodontics officially recognizes my mouth wear as adult orthodontics. There’s nothing wrong with having ADULT orthodontics as a thirty-something year old ADULT, absolutely nothing. However, for the purposes of brevity, I’ll be referring to my adult orthodontics as “braces” for the remainder of this post. But keep in mind they are adult orthodontics through and through. I’ll quickly explain the difference to the uninformed (you). Braces are for children and teens. Adult orthodontics are for adults. Get it? THEY OBVIOUSLY COULDN’T BE MORE DISSIMILAR.

Six months into my plight, I am a little astonished that I have not documented the early stages of my shiny oral accessories. Perhaps a six month check-in is appropriate - not much changes during this process. I know, I've stared at my teeth in the mirror for minutes and minutes at a time, hoping to identify some positive movement. Foolish - it's like trying to catch glaciers move. Speaking of glacier, due to the sheer size of my chompers, I was ineligible for Invisalign. I am going hard core.

Firstly, the why. Why go through the two-year trauma now? I've honestly asked myself this question for what seems to be about a decade. I don't mean to give away too many deep thoughts within the pages of GreensandBrowns, but I will admit that my teeth have been a source of occasional insecurity throughout my adult life. (Woah, let's back this mack truck of a blog post up for one second. When I refer to "insecurity", it is intended to explain the slightest of the slights. The minorest of minors. I'm sure there are days George Clooney looks at himself in the mirror and ponders, "Am I too handsome? How worrisome..." This is the type of insecurity I refer to.) Thus, with (hopefully) more than half of the rest of my life to live, I concluded that a little vanity detour to correct a petty imperfection wouldn't be the worst thing in the world (more on the worst thing in the world in a future blog post).

Onward.

I initially had four teeth extracted, the vacant lots in my gums to be inhabited by some of my favorite "big boned" toothses. To start, I wore braces on my molars for five and a half months. I don’t remember too much from the day my orthodontist faceted my teeth with my new metal friends. "Unleash the brackets!" (supposed to be said like "Unleash the kraken!") I do recall however being lifted from my chair and gazing into the mirror at a robot. I looked like half-machine with all of the intricate metal work seemingly growing out of my teeth. But still, these guys rented out space in the very back - I practiced how to speak, how to smile, how to walk the dog with minimal visibility into the real-time reconstruction occurring inside my mouth. I fairly quickly (and heroically) adapted to the dull pain. Chewing, digesting and dislodging semi-masticated food from my gums and braces were an on-going issue. Nevertheless, all of these discomforts were acceptable. Nobody could see the Sims-like city planning within the confines of my mouth. Great!

And then the other shoe dropped (that's an idiom folksy folks use when something is going alright, but all the while, you are anticipating that all of that "alright" is going to even out with some "alwrong" or "alleft"). My left shoe dropped about four weeks ago, a one-hour glue session that will terrorize the next 18 months of my life. I am now full cyborg, full brackets across both of my top and bottom teeth. The pain ever greater and at times throbbing, the chewing even more complicated, the cuts in my mouth more frequent. And that's obviously not the worst part, I can't conceal them anymore, my metal frenemies totally visible for all to see (relish).

One month in, I'm finally getting to a point of indifference. But one (I) constantly runs into friends and casual acquaintances that one (I) has not seen in many months. I've deduced that a proactive explanation facilitates the smoothest interaction. Otherwise, this public service announcement becomes tiresomely applicable:

I'd like to remind you that my eyes are up here, buddy. I'm certain that you aren't listening to me at all. Dear friend, family member, colleague and/or wife, you are not subtle with your ancillary gaze at my metal monstrosity. My braces are most decidedly not a pair of fleshy bosoms to be ogled. Cue the NBC ringtone...The more you know.

pain revisited

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sun, 02 Feb 2014 19:14:00 +0000

I'm sitting in front of the television the morning before Super Bowl XLVIII (48) and thought this might be an appropriate time to briefly reminisce about the season-that-was for my dear San Francisco 49ers and once again, what-could-have-been as far as a spring and summer of celebrating as the top dog in the football world. And amazingly, their season once again abruptly and painfully ended with a missed opportunity to Michael Crabtree in the right corner of the end zone.

While this year’s season ended one game short of the Super Bowl, I definitely felt a greater amount of pain with this one – the kind of pain I endured as a teen watching the Niners bow out of the playoffs over and over again to the Cowboys and Packers. There are the obvious reasons: missed opportunity for the final destination, playing against and ultimately losing to your rival, second guessing a risky play when more chances were available. Again, those are the obvious reasons.

Thinking about it this morning, two weeks removed from the horror, my thoughts have crystallized a bit. Last year, there was zero doubt in my mind that Year Two of the Jim Harbaugh era would conclude with a celebratory hoisting of the Lombardi trophy. There was no way they were losing to that Baltimore Ravens team. But the game happened, they went down big (“WHAT?”), they came all the way back (“OF COURSE!”), the win was in the bag, the ball sailed past Crabtree’s outstretched hands…and the game was over. Poof. Over. Done. The ending happened so suddenly, even now, I’m not quite sure I’ve experienced the burden of the thing as a fan. Even that short blog post from last year – I just don’t have much to say about it. It just ended.

So in contrast – the 49ers at the Seahawks. I languished this possibility for the entire year, I watched hours of Seattle football games hoping in vain for losses. I talked with friends repeatedly that the Seahawks wouldn’t lose with home field advantage, all of it was mental preparation for the inevitable. Not only did it play out as intended, the trail cruelly seeded tangible glimmers of hope for a different ending. And this one, it lingers. It didn’t simply end. The whole season keeps playing over in my mind. The “what ifs” and “if this”…And I absolutely loved this team, one of my all-time favorites, a 6-4 team that ran the table to finish 12-4 with impressive road playoff wins in Green Bay and Carolina.

Even with (knock on wood) Super Bowl victories in the future, I’ll always remember this one.

Thanks for stopping by.

christmas card 2013

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Thu, 26 Dec 2013 20:55:00 +0000

It's that time of year again. I'm starting to test the possibilities of video holiday greetings. Merry Christmas.

portland trip in october

noreply@blogger.com (PJS) — Sat, 02 Nov 2013 23:49:00 +0000

Wow, it's been awhile since my last post. Four day trip to Portland back in October. Video is missing our first day there, including dinner at Pok Pok.

Thanks for stopping by!