Dry Cleaning 101

      Not only have I been doing my own laundry since the fourth grade, but well, I love doing laundry.  The art of stain-removal absolutely fascinates me, not to mention special care instructions regarding silk, fur, and hell, plain 'ole cotton.
      I was the kid who always read the labels on my clothes-- line dry this, hand-wash that, and actually followed through with the manufacturer's guidance. Why? Who knows. I guess I'm a little crazy.  But since these labels have never hindered me from buying particular items of clothing (like I suppose they do for some), I seem to have accumulated a wardrobe made up of these "special care" pieces. The primary cleaning instructions:  Dry Clean Only.
      Which made me think:  What is "dry" cleaning?  How does it affect my clothing?  And since dry cleaning is not something I, a college student, can afford on a regular basis... can I do it myself?
Read on for some laundered enlightenment....

I'm sorry... I completely had to. Perhaps I will blog about hairless cats later considering my mild obsession.

      Dry cleaning originated in the mid-19th century, and was invented by Jean Baptiste Jolly, a dye-works owner, when he noticed that a table cloth became cleaner after his maid accidentally overturned a kerosene lamp on it.  Kerosene is mixture of petroleum hydrocarbons (for my science buddies), and is a solvent for organic compounds.  To simplify a bit, stains can be divided into two broad categories: water based or non-water based.  Using the general chemistry principle of "like dissolves like," one would use water (with a detergent) on "wet" or water-based stains (ketchup, coffee), and similarly a solvent on "dry" stains like grease or oil.
      So right off the bat we now know that "dry" cleaning just means that the cleaning process involves no water, but it isn't exactly moistureless.  Considering kerosene is highly flammable (hence why it was used to keep lamps lit), it's markedly too dangerous to be smearing all over our clothes.  Subsequently, the current solvent for dry cleaning is tetrachloroethene, commonly known as "perc."  Essentially when one drops his or her clothes off at the dry cleaners, first any blatant stains are pre-treated, then the clothes are soaked in perc, dried, and voilá!  Fresh clean clothes.
      While this seems like the easy solution, dry cleaning has a reputation for shriveling the life-span of clothes, along with talk of perc being a possible carcinogenic and/or toxic waste.  So, if indeed you are reluctant to drop off your garments at the dry cleaners, try mastering the art in your own home!  This is a task I've been diving into lately... well, sort-of.  Though I wasn't able to find any truly "natural" dry cleaning methods that actually worked, there are at-home dry cleaning kits.  Also it's important to know that most of the time items that say "Dry Clean Only" can frequently be handwashed with a mild detergent and water.
      It really comes down to identifying the fabric you're working with and it's nature.  A simple rule of thumb:  garments made natural fibers like silk, cotton, and linen can generally be handwashed at home, while synthetic fabric blends (i.e.rayon), and pieces made of leather, fur, or delicately embellished should be left to the pros.

This is an all-encompasing Quick 'n Easy Stain Removal Guide

Goodluck with your future stain-fighting ventures!

Cash Rulz Everything Around Me

One of my perhaps hidden passions is money and the accumulation thereof. As shallow and terse as this appears initially, my motives are far from. Wealth management and the economy in general, I feel, are not adequately taught in the US' primary education systems. In fact, information on finances is not really that accessible at all (atleast most people don't know where to start.) You see, the thing with money is that you have to seek the knowledge on how to handle it properly.

Sure, we've all heard to save money (spend less than you earn), but how much cash have you put into savings this month? Also, many people associate high salaries and worldy goods with wealth. What they were never taught, however, was to recognize the difference between being "rich" versus being "wealthy." Think about that for a minute.

While I am far from having a great knowledge on this topic, I am surrounded by many people who do; one being my Mother, who is a stock guru and an aspiring financial planner. I've always wanted to do a post on money, but wasn't sure how to present it simply. Luckily, I stumbled across this video today where Dan Ariely, Professor of Behavorial Economics at Duke University, covers some of the most basic tenets of money management in laymen's terms.

To get you started, here are some books I've read, and would certainly recommend for other newbies.

Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki and Sharon Lechter

The Millionaire Next Door by Thomas J. Stanley

The Automatic Millionaire by David Bach

and my next read is Suze Orman's Young, Fabulous & Broke

Forgive the cheesy title, but please remember that you are never too young to secure your financial future!

P.S.

Now Playing: Sweetest Girl (Dollar Bill)

Best Purchase of the Holiday Season? I Think So.

"Mona Bacon," Mike Geno

Mike Geno is a local Philadelphian artist and a self-proclaimed "foodie." He makes "food art," and seemingly is going through a bacon-phase. I'm hoping to find someone to drag with me to view his works at the Mew Gallery on 9th street, but not so certain of the probability of that happening...

Moving on, this next creation was one I just couldn't resist. Let's see how Grandma reacts when this comes in the mail!

"May Your Holidays Be Wrapped in Goodness," Mike Geno

Happy Holidays Everyone!

Salut, Peux-Je Retourner en France Maintenant?

Ce semestre, J'ai eu une relation incroyable tumultuese avec mon cours d'Allemand. Vraiment, Je n'ai aucun intérêt pour l'Allemand. Tout que Je veux est de pouvoir parler Français; alors, il fait pour un temps frustrant!

De toute façon, pour quérir cette anxiété, J'ai substitué ".com's" pour ".fr's," et J'ai changé même ma page de Facebook à Français (naturellement, ceci a seulement duré un jour... les traductions etaient trop "funky.")

Dans une autre forme folle d'atermoyer, n'étude pas pour mon examen d'Allemand,- J'ai regardé exécutions musicaux rares d'La Blogotheque (J'étais si heureux d'entendre du Français!)

Là, J'ai trouvé ma #1 musique d'étude du moment, Yeasayer

***Excusez mes fautes! Like I said, I only wish I was fluent in French.

Everyone Get Naked

My interest in secret societies has been a little outstanding and strange as of late. Ever since my friend Alex lent me a Time Magazine focusing on advanced secret groups like the KKK, Skull & Bones, and Freemasons, I have not been able to peel my brain from the topic. I was particularly interested in the partaking of societies in the Ivy Leage circle, perhaps because of my close proximity to UPenn.

So, how would you like to see an ivy-leager in the nude? A secret society at Yale called the "Pundits" hosts an annual "Naked Party" each year on campus. These parties have been held in periphery libraries, dorms, and storage rooms. The only rule: strip before entering. Students are invited by private invitation, given only a time and place to meet. The Pundits keep the location of the party undisclosed to ward off prying eyes. Once attendees are escorted to the event, they are given bags to put their clothes in, unable to enter until those bags are full! Students are charged per item of clothing they wear (shoes, low slung belt, etc.), so the only way to enter free is by freeballin'.

The venue is dimly lit, and the students try to drink wine and carry on sophisticated conversations with companions... careful to keep their line of sight from dropping below shoulder level. As one reported, "To pretend you're feeling really great and happy to be overcoming the oppressiveness of clothing, or whatever, overlooks the more authentic feeling, which is 'I feel kind of weird right now.'"

These parties are designed to be "an experiment in social interaction." To observe what happens "when the faces are familiar, but the bodies attached to them are not." After about half an hour the students generally loosen up and check out how everyone else shaves, who's boobs are saging etc. Of course, mingling and consequent hook ups are bound to happen but if so, the two in action are separated by the Pundits and an alleged 18-inch dildo!

Advice from former yale student David Thier, "Don't be afraid to eyeball somebody who looks good, or feel weird around those who don't, or worry about which category you fall into. Naked parties are often touted for shattering social norms and liberating minds, but according to one Pundit, the idea is much more simple: 'Yale students like going to naked parties because the parties are naked, and it's fun to be naked."

What's in a Name?

"Hey, my name is ________, what's yours? We have this conversation with strangers almost everyday. But really, what's in a name? Are names just arbitrary symbols or do they express "deep, essential truths" about our innermost being? Most people feel strongly attached to their names. Personality Psychologist, Doctor Gordon Allport says "our name might be the most important anchorage of our self-identity." In other words, a person's name is that person. But why is there so much meaning in something we didn't choose for ourselves? Our names, like our bodies and personalities, follow us everywhere; but how do names affect our everyday lives?

First, our name is a stimuli that grabs our attention. Later in life, the same name gives us an identity. Perhaps one of the first we recognize is our fit within a family. Names become very important in our social development as we being tying names to ideas, places, and emotions. Names aid us in feeling unique and celebrate us from anonymity. Loved or hated, we have a closer tie to our names than can be seen on the surface.

Let's begin with the self, or more specifically, how we feel about the name given to us. Researchers or The Netherlands' Tillburg University, explain the concept of "implicit self-esteem." Essentially, this idea describes that if a person is sound with their identity, they have a "positive" self-evaluation, and thus place positive values on the letters in his or her name. This is known as the name letter effect and, according to theory, it is very influential.

One way is reflected through the attitude of a person. For example, using the name letter effect on subjects with positive self-evaluations, one may find that Chris likes chocolate more than Linda does; and, on the same note, Linda likes lions more than Chris. These correlations can also translate into career choices and places of residency. Using two other examples of people with positive self-evaluations: Suzie is more likely to sell seashells on the shore than Brad, who is more likely to bake bread in Boston. While these models are extreme to convey the idea, I look forward to seeing how this effect leaks into everyday life. Maybe you will do the same.

Which leads me to how our names are perceived by others. We usually hear about the significance of first impressions, and are trained on the importance of a firm handshake, eye-contact, etc. However, one of the very first of impressions you lend is your name. Based on your name, a person will create expectations for you, which will not only guide your relationship with them, but in most cases, your future.

One illustration of the weight one's name has on first impressions takes place in schools. Students with "desirable names," or more common names, tend to receive higher grades from teachers. The Journal of Educational Psychology conducted many studies in which excerpts of equal writing proficiency were given to be graded by educators. Some papers had common names like Karen, Lisa, David, and Michael, while others had the "undesirable" names of Bertha, Adelle, Hubert, and Elmer attached as authors. Teachers marked significantly higher grades to the papers written by students with common names. This bias all funnels back to the grader's first impression. He or she saw a name and assigned expectations based on that name (i.e. the expectation to earn a good or bad grade.) Unfortunately, research has shown that a significant amount of students tend to follow the paths of these suppositions as a sort of self-fulfilling prophesy. But not to fret! Odd-namers can succeed and do! Think Elvis, Gwynneth, Tiger, Zooey, Meryl, and Regis... the list goes on.

Another sense of judgement is demonstrated in the work force. Men with socially masculine names, like Hank, are expected to do "masculine" work, and accordingly it's easier for them to find jobs in those respective fields. This concept also applies for women. However, women have more to worry about than just their names, employers also take their husbands' names (or lack there-of) into consideration. Generally, women who take their partner's name or a hyphenated name post-marriage are perceived as being stereotypically more feminine. Employers assume these women to be "more caring, dependent, and emotional, but less intelligent, competent, and ambitious," and thus are less likely to hire them. Women who keep their own name instead of adopting their husbands', are seen as being less feminine with assumed associated traits completely opposite of the above (veering towards the masculine side), and were not only hired more frequently, but also awarded larger salaries.

Just some things to think about before you blurt out your name or ask for someone else's. What does your name mean to you? Where has it gotten you thus far, and where is it leading you? In the great words of Shakespeare,

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."

Would You Like Parts With That?

Earlier this week, my mom presented me with an "assignment." Not interested in hearing what I expected to be a laborious task, I displayed my stitched up knee. "Doesn't it look more swollen today?" My mother kept talking. "Sarah, your dad and I would like you to find a restaurant for us to eat at for our anniversary," throwing in "... and we want you to come, so make sure you'll eat there too."

Was she really giving me this throwback? My dad has always been the chef of the family, and I, the lowly admirer (or on a good day sous chef), have mostly just been best for making reservations. Actually, at a certain time, I was pretty decent at uncovering the city's hidden gems. But since I moved up north, I've felt a little out of touch with Atlanta, and haven't kept up with its restaurant scene. So what's a girl to do? This was like rock climbing after a winter off: you're a little rusty on locating a route to the top. Phew!

So, I hopped on the computer and reacquainted myself with some of my favorite Atlantan restaurant bloggers. Generally, my family eats a lot of french food, but I was on a mission-- searching for a bold food adventure! Without the restraints of this regular search boundary, I was able to explore all types of cuisine metro Atlanta had to offer... South African, Ethiopian, Tex-Mex. Then, I found it. An upscale, yet non-pretentious gastro-pub: Holeman and Finch Public House, located right on the edge of Midtown and Buckhead. Yes, it was the one.

The day came as we pulled up to the valet, walked in, and were seated. A kooky, red-glasses-wearing waitress greeted us, and sooned turned out to have very impressive knowledge of the menu, which was compiled of unique ingredients, many that were unfamiliar to me. H&F wins its aclaim for, according to Creative Loafing, being "a chef's restaurant... [with] all the food that chef's want to serve, but restaurant owners refuse to allow." So what delicacies were introduced that night?

H&F's entrance... greeted by the kitchen!

I started off with a creative cocktail made by Chef Greg Best (awarded one of America's top ten "mixologists" by Playboy Magazine) christened "Neutral Grounds." It was an enticing mixture of bourbon, fresh lemon juice, raspberry liqueor and Angostura bitters, topped with Victory Prima Pils and sprinkled with fennel pollen. Booze, booze, and beer-- what a concoction! Surprisingly, theses fixings fused into the acute flavor of grapefruit. Deeelicious. In the meantime, my parents split a bottle of Spanish wine. We were also pleasantly surprised to find the menu was tapas (small plates) style, and immediately ordered a long list of items to share.

First, we were presented with the red and yellow watermelon salad (yes, there are yellow watermelons) with lime créme fraîche. The cubed fruits were vaccuum packed with small bits of lime to infuse the flavors, making them more intense. Each bite of this starter was sweet of melon, lush and creamy with the créme fraîche, and bursting with droplets of lime juice. Simple, refreshing, and cleansing.

We had a few more small dishes (fried pickles, quail, mussles, deviled eggs) before veering off the culinary cliff. We had entered the "parts" section of the menu. Committed to the experience, I smiled while requesting an order of veal brain; my parents followed with their requests for sweetbreads and veal fries. What had I gotten us into? Did I really just order brains?

Minutes later, the brain was served. "You ordered it Sarah; you get first bite." My mom nudged the plate towards me. The brain looked like a small chicken breast, lightly breaded. Not too bad, I thought to myself, I can do this. I tried to convince myself that I'd eaten things just as unusual. First (and last) bite lay in my mouth, flowing over my tastebuds. The brains have the same consistency of a soft cheese, like Brie, but I could feel the natural folds of the tissue, and this just set me off. I could not get past the texture. Downed a few more sips of cocktail, and signed for someone else to dive in. No more brains for me.

Next, sautéed veal sweetbreads served a-top raw black-eyed peas. I was slightly more familiar with these, the thymus gland of a cow. These were shaped interestingly, they sort of looked like 2"x2" molars. A little lumpy, but certainly square. As I chewed, the texture was something I was comfortable with- firm, like a day old bread pudding. The fresh peas cut the fatty taste and the flavors melded marvelously.

Finally out came our order of schnitzeled veal fries with a gremolata of orange zest, lemon zest, and parsley. I kept running through my mental dictionary. Fries? Certainly not the same thing we're asked to supersize at McDonalds. Fries. Fries. Fries. So, as both of my parents were digging in, I sat pondering. Finally I resorted to naming some edible parts of a calf. Brisket...knuckle...fillet...loin... though I certainly do not have a diagram of calf parts in my mind, I could not figure out what I was missing. Loin... groin! Are both of my parents eating what I think they are? Am I about to eat that? You bet. Baby cow testicles... god, it doesn't get classier than that, right? And you know, as far as "parts" go, these beat both the brain and the thymus. No, they did not "taste just like chicken," but they were good. Good enough that fans in Illinois hold an annual "Testicle Festival," which has more balls "than you can shake a stick at." While I doubt that my liking for fries will ever grow this deep, it sure is great knowing I'm not the only one.

We topped off the night with deep-fried peach pie, a coke float with boiled peanut ice cream, and a decadent chocolate cake. This was all I could ask for. Maybe not the regular definition of a "fun time," but we had a great one! I tip my hat to Chef Linton Hopkins, named one of Food & Wine Magazine's Best New Chefs for 2009, for his courage and exquisite execution. He changes the menu frequently, so I will surely be dropping by for more of his clever palate pleasers!

1] Executive Chef Linton Hopkins and his Executive Sous Chef Ryan Smith

2] The quirky Holeman and Finch Public House crew

3] Acclaimed "mixologist" Greg Best

Bon Appetit Y'all!