Recipe #90303: College dinner 101

This is a dinner that I made probably 50% of my nights at school last semester. Yes, it's absolutely delicious, but I probably subconsciously made it all those nights because it's basically foolproof. Last night, I made it for my family so they could get a taste of what it's like to be me at school. And because, secretly, I missed it.

Shrimp with shallots and garlic:

Combine chopped shallots and garlic in a pan with olive oil. Add the shrimp and cook until pink. Season with salt and pepper.

Balsamic vegetables:

Chop up vegetables of choice, such as zucchini, mushrooms, red peppers and onions. Combine in a pan with olive oil, minced garlic and salt and pepper. Let cook for a few minutes, then add two tablespoons of balsamic vinegar. Allow to cook through and the vegetables to caramelize.

Couscous:

Open box. Follow directions. Enjoy one of the best side dishes that could come from a cardboard box.

The key to a worry-free break.

With only a few days left until I make my final trip back to Champaign as a student, I'm not thinking about anything I should probably be thinking about. I'm not thinking about the semester ahead, the horrendous job search that hopefully won't be so horrendous, the people I'll see back at school. I'm not worrying. Sitting here, a few days away from being a second semester senior, all I'm thinking about is right now.

The countless encounters I have had with relatives, family friends, unfortunate acquaintances since I've returned home for winter break have mostly been somewhat bearable. The conversations were all the same, more or less: many, many questions about my future, and very few questions about my present. Questions were posed to me, asking if I am worried about finding a job in this awful economic situation, what I plan to do right after graduation, what degree I'm graduating with and what I want to do with that degree. What do I want to do with that degree? I want to be proud of it. And then I want to rest. I want to think about my future when I'm ready, find a job at my own pace and enter into a career that might not make me incredibly happy right away, but that will at least make me proud.

Call me crazy, but worrying doesn't seem to be the solution to the fear of ending my college career and potentially not falling into a perfectly set-up job whenever I choose. So the next time someone who I run into, someone who I would rather avoid, even someone who I love, the next time that someone asks me what I plan to do with my degree, my answer will be plain and simple: I plan to mount it on the wall in my room.

New Year's resolution is...

As I sit in the hotel room, full from dinner, worn from the sun, I find myself wondering why at the ripe old age of almost 22 I am so happy to just relax on the biggest party night of the year. I wonder this quite a lot, why living just 30 minutes from Chicago doesn't lure me into the city's bars and clubs more often, why I am just as happy surrounded by the people I love in my own home as I would be in a noisy bar with hundreds of strangers. And on this New Year's night, I no longer wonder. I have realized, most especially during these past few months, that the best way to spend your time is with the people you love. Sometimes that involves frolicking around night clubs and drinking countless cocktails. But most of the time, for me at least, that isn't what I long for. I long for good company, good family, good friends. And I long for good memories. So, sitting here with my family on this eve of 2010, drinking wine, drifting off probably well before midnight, I resolve to always love what I have, and never long for what I think I should want. Happy New Year, happy 2010.

Vacation from a vacation.

It was night, about 9:30 p.m., when I arrived on the beautiful island of Turks and Caicos with my family. It was misting outside, not raining, and the air was warm and sweet. Though it was late and we had just experienced a strenuous, argumentative 12 hours of traveling from Chicago, when we stepped into the lobby, we were all immediately at ease. We were at ease knowing that the next seven days were going to be scheduled around eating, lounging, swimming and drinking. We were at ease knowing that everything would be taken care of for us. We were at ease knowing we were away, and that we didn't have to go back for a week.

Yes, I am on winter break from my senior year of college. And yes, I did have a week of lounging in Chicago, in my house, mostly in my bed, before I made my way with my family to the Caribbean. But sometimes a break at home isn't enough. When you go home, you go home to your own comforts, to your family, to your friends, but you also go home to things that you wish you could escape, even just for a little while. I'm fortunate enough to enjoy just a few precious days in beautiful weather, relaxing on a break from life. Going on vacation, especially just with your family, allows you time to think, to re-evaluate, and most importantly, to breathe.

So, I will go back come the end of our gorgeous, relaxing vacation away from home. And I will go back to the remainder of my actual vacation from college. But there's nothing quite like being completely separated from everything you know, from technology, from your cellphone, and knowing that all you need to think about for a week in paradise is sun or shade.

The joys of comfort food.

Coming home for a break from college means two things: catching up on much needed sleep and great food. I live only a few minutes drive from one of my favorite restaurants, Ravinia BBQ and Grill. They serve unreal hamburgers, great salads, but most importantly, the restaurant's skirt steak sandwich served on garlic bread is heavenly. Heavenly. And, to top it off, all of the entrees are served with your choice of potato. The wise choose cottage fries. Every time. Thinly sliced, golden fried potatoes that go perfectly with the juicy, flavorful steak sandwich. Hey, I didn't say it was healthy. But it is comfort food. The best comfort food around.

Snickerdoodle, anyone?

My apartment hosted an end of the year Christmas (yes, we're Jewish) bash last night before we all headed home this morning. The party was mostly liquid based, obviously, but we did have time to make one, Christmasy creation for our guests to snack on. Delicious!

http://www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,1710,129176-251193,00.html

We rolled ours in colored sugar. So so pretty!

Who said being a little lost was such a bad thing?

Another semester in the books. Set out on the two and a half hour journey home to Chicago from Champaign today, probably for one of my last times. It's strange, the feeling of finishing a semester. Turning in finals, cleaning out your room, knowing that you can come back and start fresh once again, just one month from now.

But this next time, this is our last time. This semester, it's our last semester. When we return, we know that finally, after four years, the end will come for sleeping in on weekdays, cheap beer, screaming football fans, binge drinking and lazy studying, all great things. These are things that we think we'll have forever. We won't want to study next semester. Ever. Campus bars will become equally as welcoming as our own apartments, and the term "sleeping late" will develop an entire new meaning. We'll have something great, something that completely lacks any sort of motivation or responsibility.

We'll have senioritis.

What we don't think about is that the end is finally near. We'll have to get jobs of some sort, go to grad school, live in our parents' basements if none of the above works out. We'll have to relearn how to be productive, how to reach for our goals, realize that we're no longer completely carefree. And we're scared.

We're scared shitless.

But what if we're okay being scared? What if we're okay being a little lost and not knowing exactly what we want to do immediately after our sheltered four years of bliss? I'm not scared of being unemployed, but I am scared of being underwhelmed by the world. So if holding on to these four years means being a little lost for a while, I'll take it.

And I won't be scared of graduation. I'll be anticipating what the world holds next for me. On the way home today, I found myself driving a little slower, slower than usual. Holding on, as long as I can.

Christmas is loved by all ... and even more by Jews.

My roommate, Alexi is graduating a semester early from college. Though she's not one to enjoy celebrating a milestone that ends four years of greatness, the rest of our friends thought it was necessary to surprise her with something. And that something we chose was a bag full of Christmas-themed items. And to make her wear an elf hat. To Panera for dinner.

We're Jewish. All of us. We're Jewish, but we're Jews who love Christmastime. We love Christmastime for the same reason that anyone else loves Christmas: glowing lights, festivities for weeks leading up to the actual day, Christmas music and the occasional, cliche snowfall on Christmas morning. But we also love Christmastime because we don't get any of those things with our winter holiday. Hanukkah exists to provide us with a religious reminder and allow us to light - wait for it - eight whole candles, one per night of the holiday.

Don't get me wrong, I love Hanukkah and being Jewish. I love what Hanukkah stands for, that it brings my entire family together for yet another group holiday gathering. I love the anticipation of wondering what I will open when during Hanukkah, spreading the gifts out over eight nights.

But what I would also love is if we could have Hanukkah cheer, more like the Christmas cheer that surrounds Christmas. There's something about the atmosphere of Christmas, something about the mood surrounding the days leading up to December 25. When it's Christmastime, everyone forgets their troubles, at least for a few days at a time.

So, when Alexi wore her elf hat to dinner and the rest of us wore our Santa hats to dinner, it wasn't to disregard our own holiday and religion; it was to acknowledge the greatness that is Christmastime. And we know that, come Hanukkah, we will light our menorahs, open presents with our families, spin dreidels, all the while humming "All I Want for Christmas."

Recipe #56554: Felicia's bruschetta

Felicia is a bruschetta lover. She makes bruschetta most nights during the week, leaving the rest of my roommates anxiously awaiting this pre-meal snack every afternoon. It's delicious, simple and easy to make. And it includes garlic, which is never a bad thing.

Bruschetta

Olive oil
Tomatoes, finally chopped
Garlic
Oregano
Basil
Salt
Pepper

Toast slices of Italian bread to serve with completed bruschetta. Marinate and mix together appropriate amounts of each ingredient to taste.

Why do final exams have to be so... final?

While studying for finals this fine, freezing, stressful evening, I can't help but wonder: why do professors require their students to conjure up all information from the entire semester, memorize it and apply it to a usually semi-fair, essay style exam? Or even worse, to a multiple choice exam where there seem to not only be multiple choices, but multiple answers, too? Shouldn't our knowledge on our class subjects be proved by our work throughout the semester? Professors don't think so. They never have and they never will.

I've always found finals an interesting idea. Not stupid, just interesting, I guess. Final exams are really just a summary of all information learned throughout the semester, a combination of all information students make a conscious effort to forget immediately after learning it. And not only do professors give difficult final exams, they give them all at the same time, forcing students into confinement for up to a week at the end of the semester. We stare blankly at books until we panic and realize that the exams will actually occur.

Take my exam schedule, for instance. Tomorrow, Tuesday, I have three exams: two tests and one final essay exam due. Yes, under normal circumstances, I would study forever and ever, wanting to do well and succeed in each class. But because of this unfortunate schedule, because I am in panic mode rather than study mode, I just want to get these exams over with. I'm looking forward to coming back at 5 p.m., drinking a glass of wine and drowning my sorrows. That is, until I receive my grades a few months from now.

So, when I get my grades in a few months, and when my children's children are taking final exams years from now, there will always be only one thing to think: they'll be over eventually, and then, the result is completely out of your control.

And there's always summer school.