I think this is as good an insight into the mind of a three-year-old as anything.

When we were at QFC the other day, Iris zoomed in on a product called Wacky Mac, which is nothing more than rotini in four colors (white, orange, green, reddish-purple; I assume probably the purple is from beets and the orange from carrots). I made it for lunch by taking the bold step of opening a box of Trader Joe’s macaroni and cheese, pulling out the cheese packet, and substituting Wacky Mac for the elbow macaroni.

I liked the Wacky Mac. So did Iris. Mostly. This photo should explain everything.

Whenever we go to Pok Pok, which is not often enough, Iris eats approximately her weight in sticky rice. Unfortunately, all-you-can-eat rice has to be a special treat because is tends to cause her negative digestive consequences (I can hear the smirks all over Asia now), but she gave a me a guilt trip last time I made a small amount of rice, so tonight I’m making sticky and I’m making a bunch of it.

Long-grain Thai sticky rice still seems to be little-known among non-Southeast Asian home cooks in the US. But it’s very easy to make and fun to eat. Head to an Asian grocery and look for a bag marked “sweet rice” or “glutinous rice,” both of which are misnomers. The rice itself looks just like jasmine rice except that it’s opaque white, rather than the slightly translucent grains of jasmine.

Cooking sticky rice is in some ways trickier and in a key way simpler than jasmine rice. It’s trickier because:

* You have to soak it, at least two hours in advance. On the bag of rice I just bought, there was a chart showing that I should soak for two hours in December, five hours in April, and some larger amount of hours in fall, because the rice dries out. This was cool. You can’t really oversoak it, though, so just start soaking in the morning.

* You have to wrap the rice in cheesecloth and steam it, rather than cooking it directly in water, which would turn it into a congealed sponge. So you have to find some cheesecloth. There’s a particular pot used for cooking sticky rice in northern Thailand and Laos. I had one of these, but I got rid of it because a regular stockpot with steamer insert works fine.

But it’s easier because:

* You can’t overcook it. You need to steam it for at least twenty minutes or so, but you could leave it in there for an hour or two and it would be fine. There’s none of this worrying about whether you put in the right amount of water or opened the pot too soon.

Eat sticky rice with your hands, using it to scoop up bits of larb, green papaya salad, or whatever else you have. Tonight I’m making cucumber salad and stir-fried chicken with mushrooms.

Just in case you had forgotten why the feminist movement began, this should refresh your memory:

Cooking Terms and What They Mean (1949)

Remember, sometime in your cooking career you will be called upon to make SCALLOPED CAULIFLOWER. And if you fail, well, Margie, let’s not get into that.

I’m coming to you semi-live from the new Victrola Coffee Roasters (aka V2) at Bellevue and Pike. Semi-live because there’s no wireless yet–or possibly, based on yesterday’s experience at Tully’s, people have started turning off the wi-fi when they see me approaching. But they’ve carved out a gorgeous, bright space in what I think was probably an old car dealership. (You can see more on Victrola’s blog.) This part of Pike Street used to be an auto row, and there are still a couple of dealerships.

Like the original Victrola, which no one will be calling V1, this one has excellent coffee; prices include two ristretto shots and tax; and they’re playing Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. Even without wireless, I’ll be hanging out for a little while to do some paperwork and probably spill coffee on it. I figure nobody has any cause to be embarrassed about coffee stains in Seattle.

I’ve never had okonomiyaki. One day, Iris and I will take a father-daughter trip to Japan, and we will feast on sushi, go to an eel restaurant, visit yakitori and okonomiyaki stands, and bring some plastic food home as souvenirs.

Okonomiyaki is a pancake. You mix up a batter that contains flour, yam, and (this being Japanese food) powdered fish products. Add some cabbage and scallions and pork, and you’ve got a basic one, though of course there are countless variations. There’s a ketchup-like sauce that always goes with it, and kewpie mayo is optional.

Again, this is all hearsay. I’ve never had okonomiyaki because it’s never really come up and I’ve never made an effort to go out in search of it. Once I came across an okonomiyaki stand at Ranch 99 supermarket in Richmond, BC, but I’d already had dim sum at Sun Sui Wah and there was a big line.

Anyway, after I had lunch at Samurai Noodle today, something put okonomiyaki into my mind. Probably it was the fact that they’re both discussed on this eGullet thread. So when I got to Uwajimaya, I picked up an Otafuku Okonomiyaki Kit. I bought the kit because it promised instructions in four languages. And did it ever deliver:

Let’s make Okonomiyaki with your family!

Hello people of the world! Are you looking for fun meals for your home? In Japan there is a fun food for family and friends when they gather. It is Okonomiyaki! Okonomiyaki developed from an Edo era snack. These days, Japanese add a variety of their favorite ingredients to create the style of Okonomiyaki that is a popular, nutritious, and fun meal. Everyone can enjoy an “Okonomiyaki Party” at home! You cannot help having one!

Of course, you will need:

15cm of pork.

It’s fair to say that there is nothing the makers of the Otafuku Okonomiyaki Kit could have done to make me more excited about cooking this up tomorrow. It looks like the instructions call for thinly sliced pork belly like they sell at Uwajimaya, but I didn’t get any, so I’m going to substitute bacon. I assume this won’t ruin it. Seriously: cabbage, scallions, pork, flatbread. Why have okonomiyaki and I not hooked up before?

Apparently, okonomiyaki figures in a popular manga work, Ranma 1/2:

> Rumiko Takahashi’s manga _Ranma 1/2_ features a young, entrepreneurial okonomiyaki chef named Ukyo Kuonji. Ukyo wears okonomiyaki spatulas strapped to her clothing at all times, and uses the utensils for arts both culinary and martial.

(via Wikipedia)

While I was waiting to check out, I ran into my friend Sara Dickerman, food columnist for Slate and Seattle Magazine. She looked into my basket, on top of which was a big package of pork fat. “Ooh, I need some of that,” she said. “Where did you find it?” Last month, Sara wrote an article which Slate teased as Why food writers are obsessed with pigs.