Omelets

A friend who lives in the Midwest recently came to visit New York, and I made plans to meet him for lunch. The train trip from my New Jersey town to New York Penn Station takes less than 40 minutes, and many people live here especially for the convenience of commuting by rail into the city.

Alas, on that particular day, my jaunt into NYC was not to be. I was walking to the train when I got an alert that all trains in both directions on my line were cancelled indefinitely, because of a problem with wires. I could have driven to a stop on another line, sure, or even all the way into the city, but I didn't know where I was going or where I would park when I got there, and my window to make it in time for lunch didn't allow much time to figure those things out. My friend and I settled for a phone catch-up instead.

New Jersey Transit is plagued by all kinds of problems, but its overhead wire issues are caused by extreme heat, and we have had plenty of that all over the United States in the last few weeks. So add my cancelled lunch to the list of aggravations to which climate change contributes, and count me lucky that it was just lunch. Climate change also causes loss of lives and livelihoods and savings when it is behind wildfires, floods, and heatstroke, for example.

I like to take responsibility for this unfolding climate catastrophe in various ways. One of them is by eating a lot less meat (and a little less dairy) than I used to, because science is clear that animal agriculture is a major source of the greenhouse gas emissions the are fueling global warming.

You don't necessarily have to work hard at avoiding meat. Lately I've been cobbling together easy meals from the edible non-meat miscellany in my kitchen. Think along the lines of fried rice, quiches, sweet potato toasts, grain bowls, wraps, and omelets. 

This past week, I achieved a lifelong dream: I made an omelet that didn't end up more like scrambled eggs. To make an omelet, you whisk together a couple of eggs with a tablespoon of milk and a dash of salt and pepper, melt a pat of butter over medium-low heat, pour the egg mix into the pan, add toppings (vegetarian, please! chopped broccoli and grated cheddar for me that day), and use a spatula to fold the thing on top of itself after the egg has begun to set.

What's the secret to perfection, you ask? I guess it is letting the egg set over the flame for longer than I usually do. I'm typically a little hasty with the ol' spatula. Patience is not my strong suit.

Speaking of suits, and new skills, I am excited to report what happened when I took a sewing alterations class recently at Urban Sewciety. First, I learned a lot about how to tackle a garment that doesn't fit right. Second, with the guidance of the instructor (who is the tailor for Robert Plant and many country-and-western acts), I altered one of my own dresses, which was a complicated project, and it turned out great. 

I don't have a before photo, but this is the dress after I altered it. It was difficult because of the side zipper.

Third and best of all, the class opened up my mind to what altering clothing really is: It's solving a puzzle. I like solving puzzles, and I like clothes and sewing, and now I'm not hesitating to rip the seams out of anything I own and make it better. I am even further emboldened when I can test out my new skills on inexpensive secondhand clothing, like the lovely but too-big silk suit that I just got at an annual local church rummage sale for $6. That purchase benefited charity, avoided the resource use associated with new clothes, and cost me almost nothing--and on top of that, now it fits like a dream, after I took in the shoulder and side seams. By myself!!

Back to food: I have recently tried a couple new and worthwhile (albeit not vegan, sorry!) dessert recipes. One is "Rhubarb Bars" (Chocolate with Grace), which are a lot like lemon squares, but everything is better with rhubarb. The other is "Blender Chocolate Mousse" (NYT Cooking). With respect to the latter, do not over-whip the cream, and maybe use slightly less chocolate: not all mine melted. It will look like pudding going into your dishes, but will turn mousse-like in the fridge.

Gleefully adding rum to the mousse

Friends enjoying mousse and drinks on the patio

For nostalgia's sake, I also mixed a cocktail I used to enjoy in college: the Colorado Bulldog (The Spruce Eats). I wasn't sure how it would hold up after all these years, but I still liked it, although it's kind of like its own dessert.

Final fun for today: I attended a party where we were instructed to dress like a Tom Selleck character. I nailed it, right?