Tag Archives: city life

The beast of laundry

At this time in my life, doing laundry is a beast.

Almost continuously for the past 9 years, since I left home to go to college, I’ve been carting my laundry all over creation. I live for the day in which I will have an in-unit washer and dryer. Once that happens, I promise never to complain about doing laundry again!

Or at least I promise to try not to complain about doing laundry again.

Hey, I can’t set the standards too high or I’m just setting myself up for failure. I must retain my right to complain . . . not only is it true because it rhymes, but isn’t there an ammendment to the Constitution that says something like that? With an accompanying Normal Rockwell illustration?

Just kidding. Complaining is actually bad for your general health, so my friends: stay away. Stay positive. Say ‘no’ to whining.

Anyway, the last weekend in October, our laundry situation was getting completely out of control. The sheets were due for a wash . . . the blankets . . . the towels and bathmats . . . and at least a month’s worth of clothes.

The hampers in our bedroom were literally overflowing.

The underwear situation was in a state of emergency.

This post is designed to make those of you who have been blessed with a washer and dryer in your apartment/house grateful. Very, very grateful.

Here is the cart we use to transport the hideous pile to its destination.

Our first mission is to get it down a flight and a half of stairs. Journalistic inaccuracy alert: my husband’s first job is to get it down a flight and a half of stairs. My job is to hold the doors open.

Then we walk it down to the laundromat, which is right next to the El stop.

We come armed with waterfalls of silver coins, known to some as ‘quarters’ and known to others as ‘I can’t wash my clothes without ’em.’

Thankfully they have industrial-sized machines.

Then we hang out for about an hour and a half. Sometimes competition for the little hand carts can be fierce. Soap operas in Spanish play out on the TV’s above us. I bring a novel, and my husband brings his schoolwork.

I made some good progress through “World Without End.”

Children play, throw things, chase each other, clamber up on tables and generally make the place into a playground.

Every now and then a lucky child gets a quarter which, inserted into the slot on this little machine, will give them the ride of a lifetime as it plays the first two lines of “The itsy bitsy spider” over and over again: ‘The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout/down came the rain and washed the spider out.’

And then it repeats that same little piece of melody over . . . and over . . . and over again. It never gets to the “Up came the sun and dried out all the rain/And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again” part, and if you really start thinking about it, that’s just messed up.

Twisted, like.

The person who designed this machine was probably a murderous maniac who just didn’t want the itsy bitsy spider to survive.

I can find no other logical explanation.

The ever-repeating little ditty happens to make me murderous as well, which was probably also in his plan all along: to turn normal, everyday citizens into frantic killing machines. I mean, if the itsy bitsy spider doesn’t make it, what hope is there for the rest of us? Why continue this sham called ‘life’ anyway?

I’ve considered personally disabling this machine, but (if caught) that might mean switching laundromats forever. And I’m not willing to go any further from home than this, not even to save myself from the brainwashing effects of this childrens’ ride.

Oh, the laundromat. How I love it, and how I hate it.

In my desire to document the laundrifying experience for future generations, me and my point and shoot camera did the rounds and captured the sights.

I felt that lugging out my Nikon D5000 might attract unwanted attention from the owners, which is why some of these pictures are not as crisp as I would have liked.

“Why are you taking pictures?” they might demand.

“Well, you see, I’m, uh . . . like, um, a blogger?”

I wonder if they would have understood.

All done! You can see the pile of neatly folded towels on top, proof that our task is complete–for now.

And my husband’s expression–“Um, Jenna, so, why are you taking pictures of me?”

“Well, baby, like, um, . . . I’m a blogger?”

He still seems surprised when I whip out my camera.

A couple more years of ruthless blogging and he’ll be totally used to it. I just have to keep breaking him in.

“But it’s time to eat,” he’ll say–“the food is hot!” “But I have to take a picture of the food first, see?” I try to explain. And that’s how it goes.

Dear future Jenna (now in possession of her own washer and dryer),

One day, Lord willing, you will have a small group of laundry-producing little tykes living with you, otherwise known as children. Especially if you decide to do reusable diapers, you are bound to have lots of laundry. You may be tempted to complain occasionally. Please let this post be a humble reminder that at least you don’t have to cart the laundry outside and inside and outside and inside again. At least you can just walk it across the hall and put it straight into the cleaning machines. At least you never have to listen to ‘the itsy bitsy spider’ song again. So wipe that grimace off your face and start laundrifying with a smile!

Love,

your past self, for whom the transportation of laundry hither and thither is not my most favorite thing to do

Golden Pacific Market: a treasure trove

I love–and let me emphasize love–my local Asian grocery store. Since college, I have shopped at many: the 10th street store, Saraga, and the College Mall store in Bloomington, Indiana. Wang’s Oriental Food in Newark, Delaware. And now, here in Chicago, I have found this blissful paradise: Golden Pacific Market on Broadway Avenue, merely 2 El stops south of us.

It’s the best Asian grovery EVER. It’s large. It’s well lit.

Lemongrass, Thai basil, shiitake mushrooms, Chinese broccoli, galangal, Chinese cabbage, baby eggplant, Japanese eggplant, Thai red chilies . . . it’s enough to send me into a fit. A fit of Asian joy.

The employees (or maybe they are the owners?) speak English, and can help me find hard-to-locate ingredients. They accept credit/debit cards with no minimum charge. The aisles are wide enough for a cart. They have absolutely everything. When I go there, I’m in heaven.

The only less-than-heavenly part is climbing onto the Broadway bus with 6 bags of groceries that you can barely carry.

Yes, you will always leave with way more than what you planned on getting. But the red welts on your arms and hands will all be worth it as soon as you get home to your kitchen and can create the most fabulous dishes: Panang curry. Thai red curry. Pad See Ew. Delectable stirfries.

I went there a couple weekends ago to stock up on my basics, and ended up with a tablefull of stuff for a $58 total:

The prices are unbeatable: dark and light soy sauce, for about $2 per bottle.

Ok, the Wasabi peas were a spontaneous buy. But at $3 for a large, large tin, I couldn’t resist.

Have you ever tried them?

Pure green addiction.

These lime leaves will go into my Panang curry–I can’t wait.

Cheap ground pork for Ma Po Tofu.

Coconut cream (not to be confused with cream of coconut or creamed coconut) for a thick, wonderful Thai curry.

And of course, I couldn’t resist getting some new things to experiment with: glutinous rice (to make sticky rice). I’ve been adoring it from afar for way too long–it’s time to get down and dirty with that rice in my own kitchen.

Ginger syrup.

How helpful–the bottle informs me that it’s an ‘all time favourite.’

It is such an inspiration to come home with new ingredients–cheap ingredients–that you can experiment with to your heart’s content. I’ve been reading about Sriracha sauce for ages. It’s all over the blogging world, and now I’m going to try it myself.

These mushrooms are funky.

I bought four varieties to make some kind of delicious mushroom fry–crimini, shiitake, and white beech, as well as the weird little guys above, known as either “Enoki” or “the freak-shaped thingamagings.”

Though I must admit I’m afraid to ask the question that the above picture begs: what does it mean when a mushroom is described as ‘high tech’?

Maybe they are so high tech that we should start preparing our defenses against their carefully planned attack of the world, which will start in my very own refrigerator while I am sleeping tonight. I guess if I don’t show up with a post on Monday at 7am sharp, you can assume these mushrooms have something to do with it–in that case, please send a SWAT team at your earliest convenience.

And the pre-peeled garlic: yes. Yes, yes, yes. It makes me add 8 cloves where I would normally use 5. Peeling garlic is one of my banes. I always do it when my hands are kind of wet, the peels stick to my fingers, and I get extremely claustrophobic.

I knew I’d be hungry by the time I got home, so I also bought some instant soup with udon noodles. You prepare it just like ramen noodles, but it’s 50 times better.

As I boiled some water on the stove, I noticed that the stovetop was getting quite greasy.

“That’s disgusting!” I exclaimed. “Who’s responsible for this disgrace of a kitchen!?”

Then I realized that it was me. “Well,” I muttered, “it’s getting completely out of control. Someone had better clean up his or her act.”

I find it comforting to sermonize myself. It makes me feel very wise. Wise and prudent.

I chopped up part of a green onion for some fresh crunch. It was the perfect lunch: quick and satisfying.

Do any of you shop at your local Asian grocery stores? What are some of your recent ingredient finds?

Tuesday I will be posting a recipe for Pad See Ew, made from some of the lovely ingredients purchased: wide, flat rice noodles. Soy sauce. Garlic. Chinese broccoli. You don’t want to miss it.

In case you’re confused, the message of this post can be boiled down to the following: get your buns to your nearest Asian grocery and indulge your creative side.

And I’m sorry I just ordered your buns around–but try to remember that it’s for a higher good.

Have a great weekend everyone!