ChuOnThis

Scallion Pancake recipe

It was with great sadness I realized this Sunday was football-free. There was a shortage of safetys, a lack of lineman, no quorum of quarterbacks, and yet an inexplicable abundance of alteration. It was a rare lazy Sunday and I had to find a way to use it profitably. (Three-year-old viral video reference? Check!) So, in an effort to improve my cultural knowledge and snack food repertoire, I took a shot at making Chinese scallion pancakes.

Those crispy, tangy circles had been on my mind since I finished a detective novel set in '90s China and even before that, when the Dim Sum joint we went to inexplicably did not offer this standard snack.  And according to Wikipedia, or some other non-reputable source, they're one of the only pancakes made with dough, rather than batter. Keep that in mind for your next cocktail party, Jimmy. I'll just add that I've never really made a dough before because the sticky-gooey batter really grosses me out.

After surveying a range of Internet recipes, I settled on a combination of one on About.com and another I found online to produce a respectable facsimile of what I remember. It turned out to be seriously easy. Here's what I did:

2.5 cups flour
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vegetable oil
A little more than 1 cup boiling water
A whole mess of green onions, minced.
2 T sesame oil

I added a little cornstarch to the flour to cut the gluten content. The oil was also supposed to thin the consistency a little.

In a large mixing bowl, stir hot water and oil into the flour and salt until a ball forms. Knead the dough for a few minutes then cover the bowl with a damp towel and let it sit for half an hour.

On a floured surface, roll the ball into a snake. Cut it into some pieces, depending on how big you like your pancake. Use some kind of cylindrical object to roll one piece into a thin circle. Brush the dough with sesame oil. Sprinkle the scallions on the dough.

This is where things get awesome.

Roll the dough up like a cigar. Or a burrito if you're not into tobacco products. Then roll the cigar sideways, like a cinnamon roll. Pardon the use of food metaphors to describe how to make another food, but really that's the best way I know how to describe it.

Let it all sit for another half hour.

Then roll the cinnamon rolls flat and fry them in oil over medium heat for 3 or 4 minutes a side until they're brown and crispy.

Let them chill on paper towels for a minute and then chow. Mmmm.

Inauguration Day

I survived frostbitten toes, clueless cops and mobs obamamaniacs yesterday to cover the Inauguration for my paper yesterday. You can get a sense of where I sat from my photo album. I took a few pictures of the city, the atmosphere and the event itself. Click here.

You'll see that a few celebrities were around. You'd think that such wealthy and powerful men as New York City Mayor Mike Bloomberg could manage to get a better seat than me, but you would be sadly and utterly wrong. Bloomberg was about five rows behind me.

Of course the price I paid was waiting outside for three hours in 20 degree to 30 degree weather. Which was fine, except that I no longer have fingers or toes. I know I'm not exactly an ice road trucker, but typing into a blackberry at 20 degrees is less fun than it seems

The atmosphere during the speech was fun. People's shouts included "Respect!" and "Go on now, Big O!" And obviously there were a few "Obama" chants.

The most memorable image to me was just looking back at the National Mall and seeing the masses and masses of people stretched back to the Lincoln Memorial and the thousands of flags like red white and blue waves of grain. Is that metaphor too cheesy? Probably.

Did anyone watch the TV coverage? Did Chris Matthews' head explode from an enthusiasm overload? What was the worst line by Wolf Blitzer? OK, this is the best political team on the Web, signing off.

Tim "Our Savior" Tebow

The comparison has been made, but Tim Tebow gets more announcer love than any white quarterback this side of Brett Favre. To quickly recap:

-Tebow is very religious.
-We saw Tebow give an emotional speech about how he tries harder than anyone else.
-Tebow has gone on mission trips to the Philippines.
-Don't believe the Fox announcers? This guy was there too!
-Not only that, Tebow has lived with orphans and helped lepers. Seriously. Lepers.
-But focusing on the deeds obscures Tebow's personal magnetism. As our announcer informed us: "If you spend 15 minutes with Tim Tebow, your life will be better for it"

Meanwhile, some guy name Harvin ran for 122 yards on 9 carries, an average of almost 14 yards per carry. But he can't throw a jump pass. Or heal the lepers.

Hole in my Ceiling

Maybe I shouldn't have messed around with fireworks in my apartment the other night. Sure it destroyed the ceiling, but what a rush. Check it:

From another angle:

But seriously, the dudes above us broke their radiator, causing water to flood our ceiling and large chunks of the wall above our bed to crumble. Suffice it to say this has been an awesome experience.

No country for old fans

It is a grim time in America: the economy is in crisis, terrorists threaten to destabilize our allies overseas and our president faces a near-constant barrage of footwear.

For Washington State natives, it's even worse. In addition to the bleak economic landscape, we face an even more desolate sporting one: A winless University of Washington football team, professional football and baseball squads that collapsed from respectability last year to Detroit Lions-level futility and, of course, the loss of the Sonics, only team from our state to ever win a pro championship.

Wait, I forgot the WNBA Champion Seattle Storm.

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Let us move on.

Times like these are when the trivial and diversionary bring us the most comfort. They say the Yankees' playoff run in 2001 brought the city together following the terrorist attacks. Movie spending went up during the Great Depression, as people sought light-hearted comedies to take their minds off of their children's grubby faces.

But we Washingtonians don't have that comfort. Sure I derive grim satisfaction from watching OKC's Thunder vie for all-time futility, I won't deny that. I laughed when P.J. Carlisimo choked away his shot at redemption this year. But that isn't real joy. It's the kind of pleasure that makes you feel smaller afterward. Glad to see someone else brought down, rather than your guys succeed.

A monologue from The Father, by Swedish playwright August Strindberg sums up the experience (just imagine the man is talking about Seattle sports, rather than whining about his wife):

My feelings are more or less under my control, as my will has not been completely undermined; but you have gnawed and nibbled at it so that it will soon slip the cogs, and then the whole mechanism will slip and go smash. [Pause] I have worked and slaved for you, your child, your mother, your servants; I have sacrificed promotion and career; I have endured torture, flagellation, sleeplessness, worry for your sake, until my hair has grown gray."

Not that I should complain. I did see Northwestern University finish fourth in the Big Ten, good enough for a bowl appearance against Mizzou. ChuOnThis gambling tip of the day: Bet heavily on Mizzou.

My Dad and brother, though, went to Michigan, which just completed its worst football season in school history. They've taken to muttering dark threats at the mere mention of Rich Rodriguez.

So why choose to stay with teams that bring only sadness? This is America, where people are free to live their dreams and jump on the bandwagon of whatever team succeeds right now. I'm looking at you, guy-from-Los Angeles-with-a-red-sox-hat.

First of all, that betrays a lack of character. Second, I tried it, but it didn't work. I jumped on the Redskins wagon early this season, only to see them fall faster than the S&P 500 shortly after. I tried the Wiz on for size, but rooting for them was almost worse than having no NBA team at all. I thought about rooting for the Titans (my wife is from Tennessee), but she says I'm bad luck and won't let me.

So maybe I should take on the attitude of Strindberg, who once said "People clamor for Enjoyment as though Enjoyment consisted in being foolish. I find enjoyment in the powerful and terrible struggles of life," and embrace the ruin of Seattle sports. Of course, Strindberg also went insane. I guess I'll have to settled for rooting against the Thunder.

More Steve Chu humor

Future Energy Secretary Steve Chu, with whom I share a last name, was the butt of a Amy Poehler joke on SNL this week:

"Barack Obama this week named Nobel Prize winning physicist Steve Chu as his energy secretary, unless he was just sneezing."

Dude, I heard that joke in kindergarten. Well, without the energy secretary part. Anyway, Poehler can do better.

It reminds me of when I saw Brad Garrett (big dumb brother on Everybody Loves Raymond) do standup. He saw some Asian people in the crowd and was like, "Hey, what's up? I bet you guys love rice!" Set aside the fact that, yes, I do love rice. I know there's a better joke there.

My much, much smarter cousin

It appears Steven Chu will be the next Secretary of Energy, a development that hopefully will improve the chances that strangers will spell my name correctly.

Here's a sample dialog, which actually happened at the Las Vegas airport.

Airline employee: Let me check on your stand-by status. What's your name?
Me: Keith Chu, spelled C-H-U.
AE: Chu, C-H-E-W?
Me: No, C-H-U.
AE: S-H-U-E?
ME: C! H! U!
AE: Ok, Ok, calm down.

According to my uncle, who looked at Steven Chu's Wikipedia page, Steven uses the same character for his name as our family, meaning we're most likely distantly related. At least, that's the story I'm telling when I try to get an interview with him next year.