Three Flavors from My Grandmother's Kitchen [Cooking]

As I was working on this series of articles earlier in the afternoon, I made a quick call home to verify the Chinese name for watercress with my mother, and was told that my 80 year-old paternal grandmother in Taiwan had been rushed to a hospital in the morning and diagnosed as having had a stroke. The preliminary analysis was favorable, although the full effects of the stroke won't be apparent for some time. CT scans showed no damage or hemorrhaging in the cerebrum, which implied that there was only a minor blockage somewhere in the cerebellum. An MRI is being scheduled to find the blockage in the hopes that it can be removed. In the meantime, her symptoms are minor and she's being kept in the hospital for at least a week of observation.

The call got me thinking about my grandmother, and the influence she's had on my attitude towards food. Since there was precious little I could do two oceans and three continents away, other than wait by the phone, I decided to keep busy by finishing these articles and dedicating them to my grandmother. I love you, ah ma, and I hope you're all right.

My grandparents grew up during the hated Japanese occupation of Taiwan in the early 1900s. My grandfather was a farm boy who, like most men of his generation, was forced to attend a military-style Japanese academy whose purpose was to indoctrinate him in the Japanese language and culture, as well modernize him by teaching him Western math and science. This education would serve him well after the Japanese left in 1945. My grandfather became a civil servant in Chiang Kai-shek's Kuomintang, rising to a high rank in Taiwan's Ministry of Public Works. He ultimately made his fortune by entering the private sector to form his own construction conglomerate.

Much of my grandmother's life has been deeply interwoven with, and in some ways secondary to, my grandfather's. They married early in life, and in the farming tradition of the time that equated children with helping hands in the fields, my grandmother bore eight children for my grandfather; four boys and four girls. During my grandfather's rise to prominence, she supported him my tending the home and raising the children. She played the charming wife at business and social functions and the gracious hostess when my grandfather brought business associates home. For most of her adult life, my grandmother's world has been defined by her family, and by caring for her husband, children, and grandchildren. My father often jokes that although she's the smallest person in my family, my grandmother has a heart so large it encompasses all of us.

As a child, I spent most of the time during my yearly visits to Taiwan in my grandmother's kitchen. Even now, with so much time and distance between us, I can still remember the smells and flavors that permeated those humid summers. Since my grandmother never wanted anyone in her house to go hungry, there was always a table full of food in the dining room ready to feed her loved ones. Every morning, she'd wake up at dawn and walk to one of the many massive farmers’ markets in Taipei (the city my grandparents live in and the capital of Taiwan). I'd often go with her to help carry the heavier items, to fend off hungry stray dogs after our groceries with a trusty bamboo stick, and to eat the piece of fresh sugarcane she always bought me. I'd follow her through the noisy market, watching her pick out the freshest greens, ripest fruit, and best meat with which to feed her family. I learned how to pick a ripe honeydew melon by stroking its skin, how to gauge the flavor of an herb through its smell, how to choose fish by the clearness of their eyes, and many of the other food selecting skills she'd honed after decades of cooking for ten on a daily basis.

Back in her kitchen, I'd watch as she prepared breakfast. She'd start by simmering a pot of fan su xi fan, rice gruel with sweet potato, the signature staple starch dish of Taiwan. Then she'd chop the vegetables, herbs, and meat for the side dishes in order to have everything ready for cooking. In Taiwanese-Chinese cuisine, speed equals flavor. Unless they're soups, stews, or braised items, few dishes remain in the wok for longer than a couple of minutes. Everything is flash cooked at high heat in order to seal in the flavor and freshness. In addition, unlike some of the better known styles of Chinese cooking from regions like Sichuan, Guangdong, Hunan, Shanghai, or Beijing, Taiwanese cuisine emphasizes the taste of the ingredients, using carefully calculated levels of seasoning to bring out the natural flavors of the food. Because of this, Taiwanese cuisine is widely considered to be more austere than most other Chinese cuisines, and is often criticized as bland by the uninformed. However, my grandmother's cooking was always full of flavor and love. Watching her assemble her dishes was like watching a master magician perform his art. The gas ring burner would flare, oil would be drizzled, and ingredient after ingredient would be added to the sizzling wok as the food was tossed over and over again. Within minutes, the show would be over, and my grandmother would plate the dish before giving the wok a quick cleaning and moving on the next delight she was planning to make.

The three dishes whose recipes I've included below are my attempts at recreating some of my favorite dishes from my grandmother's kitchen. Please try them out. I hope you enjoy some of these tastes from my childhood.



Chao Fan Su Ye - Sweet Potato Leaves Stir-Fried with Garlic
A simple dish with only three ingredients, this is one of the signature dishes of Taiwan.

Jiu Cai Chao Dan - Stir-Fried Eggs with Chinese Chives
One of my family's favorite breakfast dishes, it's quick to prepare and can be eaten with every meal.

La Jiao Shao Kong Qing Cai - Seared Chinese Spinach with Chilies
A spicy, punchy dish that emphasizes the crispness and texture of the spinach stems.

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Chao Fan Su Ye - Sweet Potato Leaves Stir-Fried with Garlic [Cooking]

A very simple recipe suitable for beginning cooks on up, this dish contains only three ingredients, and is considered one of the signature dishes of Taiwan. The focus of the dish is the taste of the sweet potato leaves, which should be as fresh as possible. Sweet potato leaves are available at certain Asian markets, although they're decidedly rare. I get mine every Saturday morning from a stall run by a family of Taiwanese farmers at the Irvine Farmers' Market. Sweet potato leaves are a summer vegetable, so may not always be available. If you're unable to find sweet potato leaves in your neck of the woods, you can substitute full-grown western spinach. Baby spinach is not an acceptable substitute. Please be aware that should you choose to use spinach, while the texture of the resulting dish will be similar, the flavors will not. If at all possible, try this dish using sweet potato leaves.


Gear:

1 large wok or stainless steel skillet (A wok is recommended.)
1 pair of stainless steel kitchen tongs


Ingredients:

1 lb of fresh sweet potato leaves on stems
1 tbsp of finely minced garlic
1 tbsp of vegetable oil (I prefer rice bran oil.)


Seasonings:

1/4 tsp of kosher salt (You can add more to suit your taste, but that's the amount I usually use.)


Prep work:

Leave the leaves on their stems, since we're going to be eating those as well. Thoroughly wash the plants in cold, lightly salted water. I always lightly salt the water when washing greens. A number of the harmful the bacteria and other organisms found on greens are destroyed by contact with salt molecules. Make sure that no dirt or grit remains on the plants. Drain the plants and pat them dry with some paper towels. Trim the ends off of the stems, and chop the stems and leaves into two inch long segments. Place in a large bowl or plate with a few paper towels on the bottom to sop up any excess moisture. Set aside.

Peel your garlic and finely mince it. Set it aside.


Instructions:

Heat your wok on high heat for several minutes. You want the metal as hot as your stove can make it. I wouldn't recommend anything with plastic handles or a Teflon coat for this style of cooking. Add the oil and use the tongs to spread it around the bottom of your wok.

Once the oil starts smoking, you'll need to work fast. Add the garlic and toss it in the oil for a few seconds to flavor the oil. Before the garlic starts to brown, add the sweet potato leaves. Timing is important since, at the level of heat you're working with, the garlic will burn very quickly. Toss the sweet potato leaves rapidly, using your tongs to control them. Make sure that nothing stays in contact with the wok for longer than a few seconds. This step is critical, since prolonged exposure to the heat will destroy the cell walls of the leaves, causing them to release their moisture. Too much liquid will result in stewed greens, which is not the effect we're going for here. If you toss the greens quickly enough, and your wok is sufficiently hot, the garlic infused oil will sear the juices into the greens. What little moisture escapes will be evaporated by the heat of the wok.

Continue tossing the greens in the wok for three to five minutes until the stems are tender. You want to soften the fibers of the stems, but to preserve their crunchiness. The timing will vary based on the shape of your wok, and on how hot you managed to get and keep it. It’s tough work, but think of it as a workout and a meal, all in one. Add the salt to the greens and toss a few more times to distribute. Plate and serve immediately.

Good eating!

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Jiu Cai Chao Dan - Stir-Fried Eggs with Chinese Chives [Cooking]

One of my family's favorite breakfast dishes, this recipe is quick to prepare and can be eaten with every meal. It melds the tangy earthiness of Chinese chives with the softness and fluffy texture of scrambled eggs. Chinese chives are recommended for this recipe, since they are larger and more flavorful. They are also hardier, making them better suited to the high heat of Chinese cooking. Chinese chives are available at almost all major Asian markets. Western chives may be substituted, although they are more expensive and prone to burning when stir-fried.


Gear:

1 large wok or stainless steel skillet (A wok is recommended.)
1 stainless steel Chinese ladle or spatula (Your preference.)


Ingredients:

2 lbs of Chinese chives
3 tbsp of vegetable oil (I prefer rice bran oil.)
5 large chicken eggs (I like organic, but that's a rant for a different article.)


Seasonings:

1 tsp of kosher salt (You can add more to suit your taste, but that's the amount I usually use.)
1/2 tsp of ground black pepper (You can add more to suit your taste, but that's the amount I usually use.)
1/2 tbsp of nam pla (This is my own distinct touch. I like the subtle sweetness and robust flavor it adds to the dish. Use your favorite brand. If fish sauce isn't your thing, substitute another 1/2 tsp of kosher salt in its place.)


Prep work:

Thoroughly wash the chives in cold, lightly salted water. I always lightly salt the water when washing greens. A number of the harmful the bacteria and other organisms found on greens are destroyed by contact with salt molecules. Make sure that no dirt or grit remains on the plants. Drain the plants and pat them dry with some paper towels. Trim off the ends (where the chives were cut when harvested) and chop them into one inch long segments. Place in a large bowl or plate with a few paper towels on the bottom to sop up any excess moisture. Set aside.

Beat the eggs in a mixing bowl with the salt, pepper, and nam pla until the yolks are only partially incorporated with the whites. Do not fully incorporate the whites and the yolks or you'll lost structural integrity and the eggs will burn more easily. Set aside.


Instructions:

Heat your wok on high heat for several minutes. You want the metal as hot as your stove can make it. I wouldn't recommend anything with plastic handles or a Teflon coat for this style of cooking. Add 1 tbsp of oil and use the ladle to spread it around the bottom of your wok.

Once the oil starts smoking, add the chopped chives. stir the chives around in the wok using your ladle until each piece is coated with oil and the color has deepened to a rich, vibrant green. This should only take a few minutes. You want the chives to soften slightly but not become limp, since we'll be cooking them again with the eggs. Remove the chives and set aside.

Wipe your wok clean with a paper towel. Use chopstick, the ladle, or a pair of tongs to hold and move the towel. Be safe. We want stir-fried eggs, not stir-fried you in this dish.

Reheat the wok on high heat for several more minutes. Once again, you want the metal as hot as your stove can make it. Add the remaining 2 tbsp of oil and use your ladle to thoroughly coat the inside of the wok with the oil. If your wok is both well-oiled and very hot, the eggs will not stick to it.

Add the egg mixture to the wok. Give it a roughly ten to fifteen seconds to set a little before using the ladle to pull the edges of the egg mixture away from the wok and stirring once. You want to let more of the egg mixture come in direct contact with the hot metal. Give it ten to fifteen more seconds to set, then stir again once. Repeat the process until the majority of the mixture has become semi-set. Do not stir the egg too quickly or too much or it will break apart into small curds and become egg mush. You want to give it a little time to set and cook between stirs. This way you'll get a fluffy texture.

Once the egg mixture is semi-firm, add the cooked chives back into the wok. Toss the chives and eggs a few times using the ladle to mix. Now you can stir a little more quickly. A five second set period is all that's needed between stirs. Cook for thirty more seconds in the wok to reheat the chives, then plate. Wait five minutes before serving. Don't worry if the eggs are still a little runny when you plate. The carryover heat will help them firm up during the five minute wait before serving.

Good eating!

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La Jiao Shao Kong Qing Cai - Seared Chinese Spinach with Chilies [Cooking]

This is a spicy, punchy dish that emphasizes the crispness and texture of the Chinese spinach stems. Chinese spinach (aka Kong Qing Cai aka Ong Tsai aka Hollow Green aka Water Cress aka Water Spinach) should neither be confused nor substituted with Western spinach. It is an edible variety of Southeast Asian creeping vine that is available in a number of Asian specialty stores. As with most of my Asian vegetables, I either get mine every Saturday morning at the Irvine Farmers' Market, or from one of the two 99 Ranch Market stores nearby. If you are unable to find Chinese spinach, I recommend substituting celery cut into 1/4 inch wide, 1 inch long strips. This version of this dish is a bit heavier in flavor than the original, which used a small amount of thinly-sliced fresh chilies. Since the markets near me sell those chilies in wonking big bags that I can never finish using before they go moldy, I've substituted dou ban jiang (a fermented spicy bean paste from the Sichuan province of China). To thin out the heaviness of the dou ban jiang, I also add a little tian mian jiang (a sweet bean paste made with plums and garlic, also from the Sichuan region). The result is more of a Sichuan-Taiwan fusion, but it retains the soul of the original.

The original version of this dish was made using either sliced pork belly or strips of fatty pork from the back. Because I try to cook healthy, I tend to use either ham or lean pork for my version, relying instead on the dou ban jiang and tian mian jiang to add back some of the richness in flavor. If you're vegetarian, feel free to omit the meat entirely, or substitute strips of Chinese smoked and pressed tofu (available in any Chinese market).


Gear:

1 large wok or stainless steel skillet (A wok is recommended.)
1 pair of stainless steel tongs


Ingredients:

1 lbs of Chinese spinach
1 tbsp of vegetable oil (I prefer rice bran oil.)
1 cup of ham, sliced into 1/4 inch by 1/2 inch by 1/8 inch strips (It doesn't really have to be that precise.)
1 tbsp of finely minced garlic


Seasonings:

2 tsp of dou ban jiang (Resist any urge to use more. It's strong stuff.)
1 tsp of tian mian jiang (Resist any urge to use more. It's strong stuff.)

Prep work:

Leave the leaves on their stems, since they're the star of this dish. Thoroughly wash the plants in cold, lightly salted water. I always lightly salt the water when washing greens. A number of the harmful the bacteria and other organisms found on greens are destroyed by contact with salt molecules. Make sure that no dirt or grit remains on the plants. Drain the plants and pat them dry with some paper towels. Trim the ends off of the stems, and chop the stems and leaves 1/2 inch long segments. Place in a large bowl or plate with a few paper towels on the bottom to sop up any excess moisture. Set aside.

Peel your garlic and finely mince it. Set it aside.

Slice your ham into 1/4x1/2x1/8 inch strips. It really doesn't have to be that exact. Just make sure the ham is thinly sliced on one side so it cooks more quickly, and that it's cut into small, roughly rectangular pieces. If substituting lean pork or smoked tofu, you'll need to go with 1/4x1x1/4 inch strips and cook them slightly longer.


Instructions:

Heat your wok on high heat for several minutes. You want the metal as hot as your stove can make it. I wouldn't recommend anything with plastic handles or a Teflon coat for this style of cooking. Add the oil and use the tongs to spread it around the bottom of your wok.

Once the oil starts smoking, you'll need to work fast. Add the ham to the wok and move around rapidly, frying until it's crispy. Add the garlic and toss it in the oil for a few seconds to flavor the oil. Before the garlic starts to brown, add the Chinese spinach. Timing is important since, at the level of heat you're working with, the garlic will burn very quickly. Toss the Chinese leaves rapidly, using your tongs to control them. Make sure that nothing stays in contact with the wok for longer than a few seconds. This step is critical, since prolonged exposure to the heat will destroy the cell walls of the Chinese spinach, causing it to release its moisture. Too much liquid will result in stewed greens, which is not the effect we're going for here. If you toss the greens quickly enough, and your wok is sufficiently hot, the garlic infused oil will sear the juices into the greens. What little moisture escapes will be evaporated by the heat of the wok.

Continue tossing the greens in the wok for three to five minutes until the stems are tender. You want to soften the fibers of the stems, but to preserve their crunchiness. The timing will vary based on the shape of your wok, and on how hot you managed to get and keep it. It’s tough work, but think of it as a workout and a meal, all in one. Add the dou ban jiang and tian mian jiang, and toss a few more times to distribute. Plate and serve immediately.


Good eating!

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Curry House - Irvine, CA

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD100.)

The restaurant that isn't a restaurant, Curry House is a chain of Japanese curry eateries that started in 1983 and spread rapidly throughout Southern California. With a new Curry House opening roughly every two years, this local phenomenon has proven the popularity of the rather innovative concept engendered by its parent company - Japanese food conglomerate House Foods. The basic premise is simple. Open a chain of affordable family diners showcasing the quality and versatility of House Foods products in an area of the United States with a high Asian population. Serve simple comfort food created using House Foods products and discretely advertise these products within the restaurant. The result? A popular, self-sustaining chain of eateries that successfully drives business towards House Foods's line of grocery store goods. Genius.



After a long and very hard day at work, comfort food was exactly what I was craving. I managed to finally make my way home around 8:00pm and picked up my fiancée "Cat" (not her real name), who suggested that we go to Curry House for dinner. After the day I'd had, Curry House sounded perfect. One of the best features of the Curry House in Irvine is its ambience. Whoever designed the lighting knew exactly what they were doing, using the perfect combination of warm yellow and white tones to create a soothingly bright atmosphere that isn't oppressively gloomy, as is often that case with mood lighting for dinner service at other restaurants. Cheerful, homey, and comforting, I relaxed the instant I stepped through the restaurant doors.

Service at Curry House tends to be swift and discrete. Cat and I had our drinks within five minutes of being seated and our glasses were never empty for long. Some of my friends and I have joked about Curry House's drink ninjas, but the true secret to their mojo is good training and an emphasis on attentiveness to the customer's needs. Because of this, we were able to place our order within ten minutes of walking into the restaurant.



Since the entrees we'd each ordered came with a choice of soup or salad, I opted to start with a bowl of the Corn Potage. Thick and creamy, yet light and not too rich, this simple soup was redolent with the flavor of sweet corn. A light dusting of black pepper was all I needed to make it perfection. As hungry as I was, I had to force myself to sip it properly, despite my inner glutton's urging to upend the entire bowl into my mouth and order another.



Cat opted to go with an undressed House Salad. Unlike my corn nirvana in a bowl, this was a far more straight-laced affair. Three tomato wedges resting on a bed of chopped iceberg lettuce with shreds of red cabbage and carrot, garnished with parsley, canned kidney beans, and thawed frozen corn and green beans. Fairly standard, and not at all sexy. But, it was very fresh, properly chilled, and refreshing for the palate.



Our first appetizer was the Popcorn Shrimp & Calamari, served with Japanese ketchup and a wedge of lemon. Both the shrimp and the calamari were appropriately seasoned, and paired well with the lemon and sweet Japanese ketchup. The shrimp had been lightly dusted with flour before being deep fried for what I felt was slightly too long. The result was shrimp that was a little chewy and dry, but had a pleasing richness and crunch. The calamari was perfectly cooked. Nice and tender, it offered little resistance to cutting or chewing. Since it had been breaded with Italian breadcrumbs before it was fried, the calamari was a bit heavy for my taste. The dish was nothing to write home about, but quite enjoyable nonetheless. Simple, hearty fare.



Our second appetizer was the Ginger Sesame Chicken. Marinated in soy sauce, sugar, and ginger before being tossed in rice flour and deep fried, the chicken was superb. An appropriately light drizzle of sweet ginger teriyaki sauce added yet another dimension to this enjoyable dish, making it my favorite for the evening. I'll be ordering this one every time I go from now on.

With our hunger now retreating, we settled down to wait for our entrees. It's a credit to the Curry House staff that we didn't have to wait long. Each of our courses perfectly timed, a sheer miracle in a full house, and practically unheard of in a family restaurant. Out of a morbid sense of curiosity, I'd abandoned my usual Omelet Rice Curry in favor of their monthly special; Seafood Tofu Shirataki. For anyone who doesn't know, shirataki are extruded noodles made from the processed starch of the Devil's Tongue plant. The processing method results in a substance that is practically indigestible by humans, making it an excellent diet food, since an entire package contains as few as ten calories. Tofu shirataki uses the addition of tofu to add nutrition and a milky white color. The end result is something that more closely resembles the Italian pasta it's meant to imitate.



When my Seafood Tofu Shirataki arrived, I immediately noticed a faint, watery fishy smell that signaled two things to me. First, that my dish had been made using pre-cooked, frozen seafood, not fresh. Disappointing, given our closeness to the sea and to a number of excellent fish markets, but understandable given the restaurant's basic premise. Properly handled, frozen precooked seafood can still be used to produce a fine dish. Second, that whoever had assembled my dish out of a packet of House Foods Kokumaru Stew Cream, House Foods Tofu Shirataki Noodles - Fettuccini Shape, and frozen seafood had overcooked it. Some selective sampling soon proved me right. The shrimp and fish were dry and stringy. Mussels with shells as large as my thumb had sweated out all of their liquid, leaving me with powdery meat the size of my pinky nail. The addition of the juices from my seafood had diluted the rich, creamy sauce into a weak, salty broth. The tofu shirataki was crunchy and rubbery, which is normal for shirataki but tends to make it less than appealing. One of the main selling points of shirataki is that it's able to absorb the flavor of whatever it's been cooked in. However, given what overcooking had done to the sauce, my tofu shirataki didn't exactly have a lot to work with. The only saving grace in my dish was the abundant scallops, which had somehow managed to survive their ordeal by over boiling, remaining tender and perfectly cooked. I really have no idea how. Overall, I'd give this dish a C-. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but I wouldn't order it again and I wouldn't recommend it to a friend. Next time, I think I'll stick with some of the less adventurous items on the menu.



Cat had a more satisfying experience with her Curry Beef Hamburger Steak, which she was generous enough to share with me. Served on a sizzling hot, cast iron plate or "teppan", it was more akin to a richly seasoned meatloaf than what we Americans would consider a hamburger. Topped with a generous portion of House Curry Sauce and thin slices of hard-boiled egg, it was absolutely delicious. Japanese curry sauce more closely resembles a spiced French demiglace than any of the Indian curries. The House Curry Sauce turned Cat's hamburger steak into something remarkable. Included with the steak were sides of French fries, blanched spinach, and roasted corn, and a plate of fluffy, steamed rice, making it a well-rounded meal.

A criticism I've occasionally heard about Curry House is that its cuisine is nothing special. A few foodies have even commented that they're easily able to turn out dishes similar to Curry House's in their homes by using boxed Japanese curry mixes. These people are missing the point. Curry House's strength lies in precisely its ability to offer the comforting and familiar tastes of home cooking even to people who have never tried its particular brand of yushoku, Japanese-style western cooking, before. The use of House Foods products in Curry House's dishes is both a brilliant marketing ploy and proof for the consumer that the use of home cooking methods and prepackaged products can achieve some truly tasty dishes, Seafood Tofu Shirataki notwithstanding. While I would give my taste experience this evening a solid B, my long-term experience with Curry House has yielded an average in the B+ to A range.


Evening's Bill (for two):

Corn Potage - included with meal
House Salad - included with meal
Popcorn Shrimp & Calamari - 5.85
Ginger Sesame Chicken - 4.95
Seafood Tofu Shirataki - 11.50
Curry Beef Hamburger Steak - 12.95
Soda - 1.50

Tax - 2.85
Tip - 6.00

Total - 45.60


Flavor: B
Ambiance: B
Service: A
ROI: B

Overall: B+


Curry House
14407 Culver Drive
Irvine, CA 92604
1-949-654-1449

http://www.house-foods.com/curry_house.html

Other locations:
West L.A, Little Tokyo, Gardena, Torrance, Cypress, and Puente Hills

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Readme.txt

I've recently become enamored with the cultural phenomena of food blogging. Given my background, I've decided to throw my hat into the arena and add my two cents to the cacophony. Mixed metaphors aside, I think it will be an interesting project. Two of my favorite food blogging sites are Monster Munching and Chowhound. I'll be drawing a lot of the inspiration for my articles from the fine food bloggers there, and I hope that my efforts will be well received. The food-related articles you see on this blog will center around four basic themes; Reading, Supplying, Cooking, and Eating. The "Reading" articles will be reviews of fun or interesting books related to cooking or food history. The "Supplying" articles will focus on places to buy, and reviews of, ingredients and cooking equipment. The "Cooking" articles will be original recipes I’ve developed through the years. Most importantly, the focal point of this blog will be the "Eating" articles, reviews of restaurants in Orange County and wherever else my wanderings may take me.

As an important side note, I would like to make clear that I am not the same Chubbypanda at any of the following sites:
http://www.xanga.com/ChubbyPanda
http://www.myspace.com/chubbypanda
http://chubbypanda.blogspot.com
These are all different people and, oddly enough, all young women of college age. For the record, I’m male and graduated from college many many moons ago. I’ve had http://chubbypanda.livejournal.com since March of 2004.

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