Peanut Butter Soba Noodle Stir Fry

Okay, I virtually always like the things I cook. Even if something I whip up may be disgusting, the fact I made it makes it my baby and I feel I am required to like it. But this…this dish is AMAZING. I seriously feel like you could find it in a restaurant. It’s nutty, creamy and delicious.

I used this recipe almost verbatim: Soba Noodles with Shrimp, Snow Peas & Carrots — with a few exceptions…

1) I realized after I had started that I only had half the amount of shrimp I needed. So I pan-fried a diced chicken breast in sesame oil and added it to the mix at the same time as the sauce. I strongly recommend it!

2) I accidentally used snap peas instead of snow peas — but it was still delicious!

3) I forgot to add the cilantro which was sad but I have plenty of leftovers that I will load up with the stuff.

4) I think I added close to an extra cup of grated carrot which I think made it even better so I would totally recommend doing so.

5) I used these super cool soba noodles I found at my local health food store:

They’re 95% buckwheat and 5% sweet potato! How cool is that!? If you can track them down I can practically guarantee you will love them. Enjoy!!

Lesson of the Day: Know your pass-codes

Today, I learned the hard way why:

a) You should know the pass-code to your lock before you clamp it on a locker.

b) Why you might as well keep the code on your person at all times.

Allow me to explain…

I have been out of town for a few weeks so hadn’t had any need for my lock. But I’ve had it for so long I didn’t think anything of it when I headed to the gym today and used it to seal up my locker. An hour and a half later I returned to the change room only to discover that the code had completely slipped my mind. I tried a variety of sequences that seemed right for 20 minutes — to no avail.

I then gave up and headed to the front desk to ask the staff for help — only to decide at the last second when the kind gentleman looked up to help me that — I had it! I didn’t. I did, however, scurry back to the change room only to discover I was still the forgetful mess I thought I was. I slinked back to the desk and this time stuck it out while the gentleman paged a variety of people in an effort to get someone to cut off the lock for me.

After a good chunk of time, a women came by, grabbed a heavy-duty looking pair of lock-cutters and we headed to the change room. After 10 minutes of her attempting to cut the darn thing open, she announced it was not possible. She disappeared and returned a few moments later with a smaller pair of cutters. They (unsurprisingly) did not work. She then announced she would need a man.

As I sat there staring at my mangled old lock that had treated me so well I heard the woman booming into the locker room “MAN IN THE CHANGE ROOM. LADIES, THERE IS A MAN IN THE CHANGE ROOM. WE HAVE A LOCK TO CUT!” I turned down the aisle to see the woman leading a man through the change room with a towel over his head as women all over stared in my direction. The towel-clad staff member managed to cut my lock free, my purse was returned to me, the towel was secured once more and he was lead out the door.

In their rush to scurry him out of the room, however, they left the array of lock-cutters behind. So I had the grand honor of walking through the change room with lock-cutters in hand as the-girl-who-needed-an-army-to-get-her-purse-back.

Oh, and did I mention this was my first time at this gym? Yup. That it was.

Well, lesson learned. I will absolutely be writing down the pass-code to my next lock. I figure I would rather run the risk of someone finding it and breaking into my locker than having to ask towel-man to come to my rescue once more.

Gratitude of the Day: Living in a basement

Now, it must be admitted that I don’t always love the fact I live in a basement. When I wake up and it’s pitched black and there’s no way for me to know whether it’s 2 a.m. or noon. I don’t love living in a basement. When the power goes out and I have to resort to filling a pan up with candles while others could simple draw the curtains, I don’t love living in a basement. But when do I love living in a basement?

When the city has been hovering around 30 degrees C for weeks and my home — air conditioner free, might I add — is at the perfect temperature. This time last year in my second floor apartment I was sleeping on top of my covers, with the door open and the fan propped next to the window — so it could weakly blow some humid air in my direction. And to complete that picture — I was sleeping with my head at the foot of the bed just to get it that little bit closer to the window. It was also so hot that blow drying and/or straightening my hair, or, really, looking presentable in any way, shape or form, was completely out of the question. So that is why today, I give thanks for my glorious basement apartment.

And while I’m at it — that whole power outage thing I mentioned. Not so bad when you have an awesome roommate and wind up spending the entirety of the evening huddled around a collection of tea-lights gabbing away and eating various dairy products and fruit items (because after all — they could have gone bad at any moment for all we knew!)

So here’s to cool basements, awesome roommates and unexpected turns of events that wind up being spectacular!