Betty Crockett: Cooking in a new Frontier

Due to a lack of internet, I've been off the virtual grid, but am now thankfully settled in with my sometimes spotty-but-oh-so-wonderful wifi. Yay! So, being unable to blog for several weeks, I have a lot of catching up to do, in a sense. I have a few posts ready in my head, but am taking my time to make sure they come out exactly as I intend.

Food.

It's great.

It's a necessity.

Eating it is delightful.

Cooking it can be enjoyable.

Cooking it here, not as pleasurable.

For the first 3 weeks of our stay in Phnom Penh, continental breakfasts, restaurants, and cafes were the norm. We had no kitchen, and therefore I had no concern for cooking. The closest we came to cooking was boiling water for ramen noodles, which we did occasionally to save money. Then our hotel stay came to an end, and suddenly I had to figure out how to provide food for myself and Bradley. While in the states, I had looked forward to the daily market trips, and learning new recipes. However, I had not considered the language barrier. I guess I thought that somehow I'd magically be able to speak Khmer fluently enough to ease in and out of the psar (market, pronounced "pasaw" with a nasal, throaty inflection at the end), without any issues. This grasp of the foreign tongue would also, somehow, enable me to whip up amazing Khmer meals. Then I would present them to the many guests I was hosting, while they all applauded my amazing and skillful talents. My husband would sit nearby, smiling proudly, chest puffed, because his wife, and his wife alone was able to overcome cultural and language barriers in a single bound. Believe it or not, that's not quite how it's gone for me. Instead, the scene looks a little less super hero like, and little more like I need the rescuing. Picture burnt coconut. Think of half cooked chicken. Envision a cup of shrimp, I peeled myself, somehow shrinking to less than a 1/4 cup, once fried. Imagine beans that have cooked all day, yet are still too hard to eat for dinner. Visualize sad, wilted lettuce leaves that had dreamed of being a part of a grandiose salad. You can have all of this and more if you join us at Ballard's Busted, Bombed Out, & Burnt Brews. Yeah. It feels that bad sometimes. Maybe I am over dramatizing the situation just a little, but for crying out loud! How would you feel if you'd been cooking for over 15 years, 10 of those years as a wife, and then all of sudden you find yourself incapable of properly using a skillet? Being an over analyst, I've decided my issues are the following:

1) I have developed a slight fear of the markets: they see me coming, and they think white skin = money.

2) I have inconveniently become insecure with what little Khmer I do know: for some reason the excessive laughing and mocking from the locals isn't exactly boosting my confidence level.

3) I am unfamiliar with over half of the vegetables, fruits, and even some meats: this does not lend itself to easily throwing a meal together.

4) I do not have an oven or even a standard kitchen: not only am I figuring out what to do with new ingredients, I'm trying to figure out how to use my new and different space.

So, to sum it up: I have no idea what I'm doing.

On the flip side, I have new kitchen gadgets that I only dreamed of owning in the states. My bread machine is a dream come true for this American, now living in a land that rarely recognizes the word "flour" in their own language. 

With this said, I have had one flop, and one almost flop. The bread machine came with no instruction manual, and so the first time I used it, I was truly winging it with the assembly. Bradley was away for several hours that day, and I was so excited to have fresh baked bread upon his return. {In case you don't know my husband, it is an understatement to say the man loves baked goods. I've never worried myself over whether he'd remain faithful to me, but if he ever leaves me, I'll know it is because he had to choose between me and an apple fritter.} Like a child, I kept peeking in the small oven window of the bread machine, eager for the outcome that would guarantee my nomination for "best wife" of the year. After 2 hours, it still looked like a clump of dough-like matter, but once Bradley came home, I refrained from hovering over my new toy, in the hopes he'd have no clue until his surprise was fully baked. Well, apparently there is this thing called a dough/kneading hook that comes with bread machines. Without a manual, or even a picture of it on the box, this amateur had spent nearly 4 hours baking bread that was neither mixed nor kneaded. Yeah, I was a little sore, and needless to say, Bradley's hopes and dreams were temporarily crushed. Thankfully, I have successfully baked 1 loaf of wheat bread, 1 loaf of challah, and 1 passion fruit pound cake since this incident. Fascinating to think that a tool smaller than 3 squared inches can make such a huge difference in ingredients yielding either despair or utter happiness. Then today I attempted to make banana-passion fruit bread, and I learned that you are unable to stop the machine once you hit the "start" button. I tried everything, including searching the web for a solution. With some machines you can press the stop button, as long as it's before the baking process. My machine is not one of those machines. She's special. Unfortunately. No worries though, I didn't let the machine win. After a lengthy lecture, which I feel brought about some remorse and regret on her part, I was able to save the bread dough through refrigeration. Once the machine finished it's 1 hour and 27 minute cycle, I was then able to begin baking my loaf. It just happens that after all of my baking was finished, I figured out that unplugging the machine for 30 minutes allowed it to reprogram. Good information for any future mishaps.

This was the final product from what I call
Banana Bread with Passion Fruit. Add a
little butter...scrumptious!

Next in my kitchen of goodies is the product I never knew I needed, but will now have a difficult time living without: my rice cooker and steamer. 

The white bowl is for steaming. You add water to

the steaming unit, and the veggies or meat to the

steaming bowl. For rice, you remove this bowl,

and add the rice and water to the steaming unit.

This little beauty not only simplifies cooking rice, it allows you to steam broccoli, carrots, and other veggies in 30 minutes or less. The only hiccup I've had with it, is remembering to start the cooker on time. I'm accustomed to creating a meal in the states with everything at my fingertips, and I had gotten to the point of timing things pretty well, for the most part. We have to rinse the rice until the water runs clear, and then you add it with twice as much water to the cooker. Press the "cook" button down, and you're done. A half hour later you simply fluff the rice, and you're ready to serve. I think this was the first week that I remembered to have the rice steaming before I began cooking, to ensure I served a hot meal at a decent hour. Yay for me! Now if I can only get everything else down. ;o) On Tuesdays I use this baby to steam veggies for our ramen lunches. I store the extra in tupperware for Wednesday's and Thursday's lunches. Our schedules are too full on these days to allow time for a meal that takes longer than 15 minutes. I layer our bowls with the veggies, ramen noodles, ramen packet seasonings, and top them off with boiling water. The hot water ensures the veggies are hot enough for satisfaction. After our trip to the province (pictures and post coming soon), one of our new favorite lunch options Friday through Monday is fried egg over rice with soy sauce and sweet chili sauce. It's yummy, quite filling, and gives you enough energy to make it through until dinner....usually. Sometimes you just have to have a fruit or chip snack.

I'm hoping to purchase a small baking sheet in order to make better use of my new toaster oven! This and my crockpot are my "oven."

Yes, you're getting a little sneak peek into what
the kitchenette looks like, but just a peek.

In the states, Bradley and I tried to come up with an excuse to purchase one of these, but never felt justified. Well, when it and the cost of a crockpot are less than half the cost of an oven, and you have no space/hookup capabilities for an oven, it's a no brainer. There's an attachment that came with it that supposedly allows us to roast a chicken, and this small appliance came with an instruction manual. Unfortunately it is all in Khmer. So, I'll be surfing the net to hopefully discover how to use this new contraption. I'm just praying I don't blow us up during my first roasting attempt. *nervous chuckle*

Finally, there's my new juicer! This was the item I was most excited to purchase in a land filled with new and exotic fruits. However, I've yet to use it. Bradley has used it twice. I have plans to use it, but only once I conquer the world of cooking here. Kind of need food more than fruit juice. Lame, but true. It will also help if I can purchase a blender, as several juicer recipes call for both. Until then I'll just smile at it and think, "someday..." *sigh*

Frustration takes hold quite often in my kitchenette, but I try to remind myself that as long as we're fed, I've done my job. It may not be the best meal I've ever made, but it's nutrients (does charred fish sauce and soy sauce count as nutritious?). So, if you have any meal ideas you want to share in the comments or on my Facebook post, I would welcome any suggestions! Just remember, I don't have the option of packaged and pre-made items, and am limited to milk and butter as my only dairy options. A lot of the crockpot and general recipes I've found online require quite a few items I don't have available. So, any recipes from scratch would be greatly appreciated. Let 'er rip Loneapron. ;o)

This is proof that I can cook something
delicious and beautiful.

Once again, I find myself grateful for my health, and what knowledge I do have about cooking. Had my mother not taught me the basics, I'd be utterly lost in the  kitchen here. One plus is that in America I was near the bottom of the totem pole with baking, but here I'm practically an expert! As I continue to explore this wild frontier with strange foods and unique preparatory items, I can only hope to glorify God with every meal I create... even if it doesn't yield a pleasing and savory aroma. Ha! In our daily reading, I was encouraged by Ecclesiastes 9:10. So, I'll continue improving my culinary skills, as I strive to be the best I can be while serving Him. 

Betty Crockett signing off saying, "remember the a la mode!"

A day in the life of me: Laundry Day

Although we're beginning to fall into some type of routine, the only day that has been consistent for more than 2 weeks now, is Wednesday, our laundry day. After the first load of laundry, I knew I would have to devote a whole day to the chore. Otherwise, I would either end up feeling frustrated that I accomplished nothing else, or I would grow weary trying to tackle this chore several times throughout the week. Early on, Bradley and I quickly discovered that if we didn't set 1 or 2 goals for the day, we were spent and undone by the close of it. If you don't choose a goal or two, then you'll soon find yourself pulled in different directions, unsure of what to do first. On the flip side, if you try to undertake more than 2 goals, you'll find yourself extremely frustrated and unaccomplished because here everything takes longer. Traffic, poorly marked roads, well-meant, but misguided help, along with other factors all contribute either to a lesson in patience or a minor melt down. It's your choice. Unfortunately we've made the wrong choice a few times, but thankfully we have the blessing of a warm, somewhat comfortable bed where we can recoup, and then arise to make the right choice: patience. This brings us to Wednesdays. Besides preparing meals, and a short break here or there with Laura Ingalls (I feel it's appropriate to watch Little House on the Prairie, as I'm tapping into my pioneer woman spirit for this task), I wash, hang, and fold all day. Before moving here we'd planned on having a washing machine. We'd looked at some small machines, that would work for us, but once we rented our flat, we realized that we neither had the space, nor the ability to host one. Plus, getting  it up the stairs would have been well, possibly impossible. So, we had to shift our thinking a little. We started shopping around for a different type of washing machine. If you ever find yourself in Cambodia, here I offer my experience in how to know if you have a good quality machine. 

First, you have to test the "hot water" setting,

and don't forget to add the detergent.

Although Bradley has assembled the hot water heater

we purchased, our flat does not have enough electricity

to use it for more than 8 seconds before the breaker trips.

We're hoping to find a solar powered battery or car battery

to charge the water heater since a certain pansy in our

home does not care for her cold showers.

Next, we have to wait for the hot water to fill 

the washing bin... one kettle's worth at a time.

Yes, this part does take a while, which is why I don't

wash everything with hot water. Our towels, sheets,

and extra dirty clothes are the only items that get

the boiling water treatment. I finish Filling up with

cool water to ensure that I don't burn myself while

"warshin', wish-a-wash, warshin', tingle-tangle-tingle

wish-a-wash, warshin'." You have to do something to

stay intrigued while doing laundry prairie style. ;o)

Then we add the clothes to be washed.

It's important to be sure the agitator in the "machine"

is working appropriately, or the clothes will stay dirty.

Here I use my fish style washboard to agitate the

clothing, but Bradley has now made me a wooden

laundry stirring paddle that works wonderfully!

Then I use my WWII persona to scrub the tar out

of the article at hand. Dunk, scrub, dunk, scrub. 

There's a message true and glad for the sinful and sad

"wring" it out! "Wring" it out!

It will give them courage new, it will help them to be true

"wring" it out! "Wring" it out!

Yes, I think of this song every time I do this part.

Then I fluff the item, as I learned after the first time,

if I don't, it will stay wrinkled until the next wash. 

Yummy!

Rinse cycle.

A good machine agitates during this cycle as well.

Dunk, dunk, dunk, and wring it out again. 

Fluff again, and put in the basket with the other

rinsed clothing, before the final cycle. 

The dry cycle works best when it's not raining.

We can also hang them inside, but it takes them longer

to dry since less breeze comes through the windows. 

Okay, well, I hope I've helped you in determining what makes a good washing machine. I thank God for my functioning hands, running water, working electricity, hot water kettle, and natural drying elements. Laundry day may be different in Cambodia, but it's still a blessing to have clean clothes for these temporary bodies. I do miss the fluffy feeling of fresh, warm clothes out of the dryer, but washing my entire wardrobe by hand leaves me feeling worthy of a good night's rest at the end of the day. May your fluff and fold warm your bodies and homes!

Longing to hug my friend...

I cannot do a regular post, as if nothing has happened. One of my dearest friends has just lost her son. She never had the joy of bringing her baby home. She never had the excitement of watching him crawl or take his first steps. For months she and her husband lived their entire parenthood inside a hospital room. Although I am certain anger, frustration, and confusion haunted them regularly, they shined as a beacon of faith during an agonizing trial. Now they have the heart ache of going home to an empty nursery. I know what it's like to clean out a baby's room that will never be used, but I don't know what it is like to perform such a task after having struggled everyday for your child's life, for nearly a year. I cannot pretend to fully comprehend their grief, but I hope they can know that somewhere in the city of Phnom Penh, their is a soul hurting and crying with them. I love you Lish, and I thank you and Shuan for your amazing example. My constant prayer is for His arms of comfort to wrap around you as you mourn your loss. Roscoe's body may be at rest, but his spirit and his influence will live on forever. Thank you for sharing your precious son with us.

Home Sweet Home

I'm sitting here at Pizza Company with a full belly and free wifi. Mission work is so hard. ;o) Today was our first full day in our new flat. Although excited, I was a little nervous about leaving our temporary home in the hotel. We're working on setting everything up right now, but let me take a few steps back to explain how to we got to pizza, coke, and wifi.

The first Saturday we were in town Thida wanted to take us to look at several homes, apartments, and flats in her area. We all went, J&M with the intent to find a place, and Bradley and I simply looking to appease the group. In all honesty, we didn't think we'd find anything we liked enough on the first try, but hoped this outing would give us a better idea of pricing and availability. Finding a home never crossed my "stress" radar, as it is, in my mind, one of those things God would undoubtedly take care of since He brought us this far. Off to Thida's we headed for some house hunting, lunch, and of course play time.

One of the many faces of Eve...

Tuk tuk babes.

Tuk tuk goofballs.

The monks depend on the Buddhists for

their necessities, and the monks bless the

homes which give them their provisions.

Back alley/neighborhood street to Thida's home.

Tired baby. Tough mommy.

Here's a glimpse of the turquoise door on the house I heart.

Check out Evie's face. She's a poster child for everything.

The new baby in the house, Bebe. Isn't he precious!?!

Thida sharing Dragon fruit and mangosteens with the kids.

Evie calls them "Dragon apples", and Gabe remembers the

name only because they have the word Dragon in them.

See-nin, the mommy of Tina and Bebe.

Juice. It does a body good.

Jonathan sneaking in some tickle time.

Tina pulled a sneak attack bear hug on Bradley.

Brass monkey. That funky monkey.

Old school yo.

Tina and Serah - cutie pies!

I love how children have their own language they all understand: fun.

Lunchtime, Cambodia style.

Now, onto our flat. Thida had taken us to several flats and homes for rent, but they were all so big.  A typical home here is 2 or 3 flights high, since families usually live together, even after marriage. Every time we'd walk into a place, all I could think of what am I going to do with all this space, and goodness gracious! Who wants to clean all of this? See, here in Cambodia, there's this thing called dirt, and well, there's a lot of it that gets blown around, constantly. And this dirt, you understand, is looking for a home. Any home will suffice, as long as it has corners, crooks, and crannies, and windowsills. Let's not forget the windowsills. One might even suggest that dirt has an affection for windowsills. And in a city where every window has a metal grate on the inside of each window, one would believe that dirt was not only welcomed, but encouraged to nest in that warm little cove between glass and iron. The bigger the house, the bigger the opportunities for this union.

So, after our third or forth location, I finally told Thida, "this is too much!" Very clearly, I described the studio or 1 bedroom apartment my heart desired. Thida put her thumb nail to her mouth as she stared at the floor, thinking. Quickly, she whipped out her phone, made a call, and we were off to the next location. As we turned the corner, onto a new street, Thida pointed to a peachy-orange, 5 story home, and said, "that's it. There your new home!" Ummmm, what? Before I could say much of anything, we were greeted by one of the owners and her son. He was going to take us upstairs to look at the 2 available apartments. Aww. The tension in my jaw lessened, and we started up the stairs. The first apartment was 2 stories with  2 or 3 bedrooms and baths - I don't remember because 2 stories was enough to turn me off. So we headed for the final apartment, on the 5th floor. The door opened, and almost immediately I felt like I'd come home. In a foreign country. For 2 years. But still, I finally had the sense of I can do this, and we were ready to talk contracts. We assessed there was work to be done, but with only 4 rooms (living room; bedroom; bathroom; kitchen), it was doable. Our landlord is a blessing, as she is a smart, but kind business woman, and her husband speaks fluent English, as he lives in the states 6 months out of the year. We made sure we would be allowed to decorate and remodel how we wanted, and after a slight negotiation on the price, the deal was done. So, now I can say, "Welcome to our new home!" Let me give you a "before" tour of our flat, as we've already made some changes since these pics were taken.

The stair case down to our gated "garage" where we keep

our bike and moto. It's roughly 4 1/2 feet wide, by 15 feet long,

and we now share that space with our downstairs neighbors. It gets

a little crowded sometimes, but we make it work. We're extremely

grateful that not only is our landlord kind, but our neighbors

are very friendly as well. Once we learn the language,

I'm hopeful we'll be able to truly befriend them all.

If you're wondering the width of these steps, I'll measure Bradley's shoulder span and get back to you. Yeah, he has to turn just slightly, while ducking his head, to make it through without getting stuck.

Our living, dining, office room.

Front of the home, but our back door.

Hammock stand to the left - the reason Bradley wanted the house. ;o)

Ceiling in the living room.

View of the living space, standing with my back

to the back door. That's an indoor window into

our bedroom. Yeah, another window. ;o)

Hallway leading past the bedroom to the entrance.

Not the best pic, but this is the "back" patio, outside of the living space.

Entrance.

Bedroom - taking measurements already.

Standing with my back against the wall with the window.

You can see how the bathroom is elevated since it's a wet room.

Other side of the bedroom.

Bathroom.

Everything you need in less than 17 square feet.

IKEA don't got nothin' on Cambodia.

You could essentially shower and brush your teeth

while using the toilet. No, I do not plan on doing that,

but I could, if I wanted to. Which I don't.

Full view of the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, standing near the toilet, but

not touching it. Although this was one of the cleanest

flats we saw, it still needed some TLC before any

kind of surface touching would happen.

We plan to move the sink out, and use the cove area in

our bedroom to install a vanity sink. this will allow more

room in the shower, as well as relieve my fear of needing

to wash my hands when Bradley's using the facilities.

The kitchen was built outside, after the fact, and we're trying

to figure out just how to use the space during the rainy season.

It's enclosed, but the one big rain we've had so far flooded the

room. There's a tin roof on it now, but like I said, we're

brainstorming for ideas of how to make it work for us.

Gas stovetop. Yay!

This was the only argument we had with the landlord, or rather, the landlord's mother. Apparently in either Buddhist or Cambodian beliefs, an unoccupied beehive is good luck. So, they were wanting us to leave the beehive in our kitchen. Bradley demonstrated in the above picture that he couldn't even walk into the space without ducking. After a back and forth discussion, they finally agreed to let us carefully cut it down for them to keep. Bradley cracked me up when he said, "we don't want it. I will cut it down very carefully, and bring it to you. I don't want the luck. You can have it. Thank you."

Kitchen shelving and counter.

Looking into the entrance/hallway from the front porch.

Our front patio. Looking forward to having some

plants and peaceful mornings out here.

More of the patio.

The top of our stair case.

Our view.

Our landlord, and our view.

Okay, so I apparently like the view. Actually, what

I love is the breeze. We have a wonderful cross breeze,

and every time I feel it whip around my face, I think

thank you God for kissing my cheeks with a tiny

bit of coolness in this hot land.

House hunting is hard work for a baby.

Yet again, God has provided for us, and my gratitude is well, inexpressible. Our internet access has been limited, as we're no longer in the hotel, but hopefully I will have the "after" photos of our new homestead within the next few posts. Many "luxuries" are not available with this new home, but we have the blessing of running water and electricity. There are those who don't. If you have running water and electricity, please count your blessings, and be thankful for the intelligence provided by the Creator which enabled men to create these luxuries. Regardless of your situation though, if you've been given a safe place to call your own, whether temporary or permanent, let yourself smile inside and out knowing that you have a home sweet home.