Three Cheers for Three Cheese Edamame Bread

I was looking for a savory scone in all the wrong places and I’d almost given up when I wandered into Paris Baguette, a French bakery inside Central Square’s Korean grocery store, H-Mart. What did I find? Three Cheese Edamame Bread, that’s what.

I don’t know if this is a Thing, but it sure was something. If it’s a something crossed with a something else in the mode of the chimerical cronut, those things would be savory bread pudding and edamame.

It was cheesy, salty, and oily for sure, edamame-y, only if you paid close attention, but it filled the savory scone void pretty well. I found a recipe that might be close to this item on Cookpad Japan: Edamame and Cheese Rolled Bread.

Ask not for whom the duck rolls

It rolls for thee. Did you know that the first LEGO toy, made in 1935, was made of wood, not plastic? Did you know it was not composed of wooden bricks but a single assembled piece? Did you know it was a duck? On wheels? It’s a fact.

Original LEGO Duck

These days, the original LEGO wooden duck is a rare collectors item. Even the 2011 plastic brick reissue of the ur-duck is fetching hundreds on eBay.

LEGO Duck Reissue 2011

Thanks to that photo and the conveniently countable lego bumps, I was able to create a decent simulation with parts from my LEGO Architecture Studio set  (best gift ever from Prof M) and some wheels off the mini Mini Cooper that came with it as a bonus. The Architecture Studio set contains only white bricks so it’s an albino duck. The eyes are the Mini’s tail lights.

Albino Duckroll

If you like your LEGO ducks more colorful, minimal and mass-produced, check out these LEGO duck producing robots made of LEGO bricks. Tres meta.

Also, this.

Beware the Rides of March, or, A Germaphobe’s Guide to the MBTA

I was reading an article called A Germaphobe’s Guide to Buying a MetroCard, which actually turned out to be a lot more about usability than germs, but it inspired me to think about how one might ride the MBTA with a minimum of infection opportunities. As the estimable Aaron Reiss wrote,

For a germaphobe of any standing, the world of public transportation is particularly wrought with anxiety. It is the apex of public: the welcome host to people and objects of every shape, size and degree of cleanliness. And it is a place that necessitates touch. Unlike the street, the park or the museum, our transit systems demand near-constant physical contact with their myriad surfaces. We sit. We hold on. We lean and we grab, palm after finger after sticky palm.

Indeed. As we exit (one hopes) the snowmaggedon season, it becomes a little less typical to ride public transit wearing gloves and with a scarf wrapped over your nose and mouth. Here are some suggestions for protecting yourself – and others – from germy contamination in the T.

Minimize Fare Machine Interactions. Monthly auto-renewing Charlie cards are the way to go. If you must use the touchscreen fare machines, try not to use your own fingers. Use touchscreen gloves or act confused enough that somebody comes and helps you. If you’re stuck all alone without gloves or helpers, try the knuckle of your least favorite finger and make a mental note to scour it when you get to your destination. I started counting how many times you had to touch the thing to do a simple transaction but I lost count.

Travel Off Peak. Surfaces in the T might be icky, but it’s really the people you have to watch out for, what with all the breathing, coughing, sweating, and other things I shan’t mention. So if you’re lucky enough to be able to choose your time of commute or travel, exercise that privilege to travel off-peak and away from the crowds, especially crowds of tourists and their grubby children. Whatever time you travel, look for the less-populated cars, usually a car or two away from the station entrances and ends of the trains.

Sit Down. This is somewhat dependent on the timing/crowding issue above, but if there’s room and there’s nobody more infirm than you nearby, sit down. As long as you’re wearing pants or a long enough dress or skirt, the ickiness you might get from the seat is nothing next to what you’d get on your hand from touching a pole or a strap. The farther from the doors you can sit, the less likely it is somebody will stand over you and cough on you.

Do Not Attempt to Surf. If you can’t sit down you might be tempted to lean against the doors (a no-no for oh so many reasons), grab a pole with your elbow or other covered body part (do not attempt unless you are a professional pole-dancer), or stand in the middle of the train and rely on your catlike sense of balance. Do not do this. The train is probably older than you, and the tracks could be twice that age. The things – and people – you might touch trying to break your fall are far more worrisome than what’s on the poles and straps.

Don’t be a Selfish Jerk. If you’re sick, wear a surgical mask, or better yet, just stay home. The train might be full of unvaccinated kids. But seriously, people in Japan and elsewhere have been doing this small, simple, considerate thing for a long time. Surgical masks are cheap at drugstores, and you can find a range of more fashionable ones if that’s how you roll. I admit there is some question about how much it really helps, but it certainly doesn’t hurt, and since the practice is still rare in the USA, you might even get a little extra personal space as people wonder what horrible plague you’re carrying and keep their distance. Probably foils those face-tracking surveillance systems, too. If you’re too fashionable for a paper mask, you can get a germ-filtering scarf called a scough, made in Brooklyn, of course. If you can’t handle any of these ideas, at least remember to cough into your own elbow.

TL;DR: wash your hands, people. Frequently. With soap.

Don’t Fear the Pies of March, it’s Pi Day Again

I’ve been calling the ascendancy of pie over cupcakes for years, and whether you’re with me on that or not, you’ll have to grant pie its moment in the limelight today, pi day. In the US reckoning of dates, it’s 3/14/15 today, and those who are way way into it will no doubt be digging into some pie at 9:26, because 3.1415926, you know.

I set out this morning to get to Petsi Pies in Cambridge at 9:26 to see what, if anything, would happen. I arrived early enough and bought a slice of apple and a slice of pecan, and settled in to await the irrational minute.

Pecan pie from Petsi pies

The place started to fill up, probably not much more than a typical weekend morning, and at the tick of 9:26, nothing unusual happened. No countdown, no pi-themed cheers, chants, or songs. Rumor has it that fancy stuff was going on at the Somerville location, but I was happy to observe pi day quietly.

That’s what’s great about mathematics: unnoticed, unobserved, or unappreciated, it still just is. Now, where can I get some piroshki for a 9:26pm dinner?

The Social Media Enabled Quest for the Isunda Gray Whale: in which twitter sends me out on a mid-century modern run in a snowstorm

The elusive EkenasetDespite what you may have heard, I do not spend all of my time following IKEA’s every move and hacking their furniture into cat habitats. But I do enjoy good design at prices that are actually within my reach, so I was bummed to have missed the limited-edition re-release of IKEA’s Ekenäset chair. By the time I clued in to the sleek wood and slubby linen-blend cover, it was still on the website but out of stock at every location I checked. And I checked every location in the US.

So I had nothing to lose trying to get the inside track on social media. I didn’t expect anything but I tweeted anyway.

asking for a friend

I’ll spare you the additional tweets and DMs, but eventually I got the tweet I was looking for, my twitter buddy at the store spied some Ekenäsets in the “as-is” section. The race was on. The goods were on the showroom floor, I was in a race against anybody who might be wandering by with an eye for some mid-century revival seating at 30% off. Having already studied the assembly instructions online, I packed up my cordless drill with allen key bit and a couple of wrenches – as-is items is usually assembled and I would have to disassemble the chairs to get them into my car – and headed out.

Into yet another Boston-area snowstorm. At rush hour. On 93 South. A horrible 90 minutes later, dizzy, dehydrated, shaking with road rage, I staggered into the store, not even pausing for fortifying meatballs, and made a beeline for the as-is section.

Thar she blows!

There they were, two Ekenäset chairs, just sitting there, one up on a little platform right at the entrance to the as-is section. I sat in one, then the other. They seemed sound, clean, unblemished, not covered in pet hair. I put one on my cart and turned the other over to double-check my plan of disassembly. A woman nearby said, “you know there are some in those boxes over there, too, right?”

In the boxes? As in new? NIB and NWT? Could it be? I checked the boxes. I matched the product numbers. I asked a passing associate. Yes, there were four more Ekenäset chairs. They were all 30% off. They were still packed in their boxes, nothing as-is about them but the price. What crazy Swedish capitalism makes things cheaper when they get scarce? I could buy the lot of them and flip them on craigslist for full price if not more!

I backed away from that madness and heaved two boxes onto my cart. On the way out of the store I dropped a tweet of thanks to my inside informant and noted that four chairs remained, two still in their boxes. I hope they’ve gone to good homes.