Sunday, February 13, 2011

Why All Scientist Should Go to Europe

Or: How to Cook in a European Kitchen

This week, I decided it would be nice to have chicken for dinner.  While my realization of “soup is really easy to make” had given me many quick nutritious meals, they had unfortunately taken most of the protein out of my diet. Sure, I had peanut butter and yogurt, but I still felt like I wasn’t getting enough. Additionally, chicken is really easy to make.

So, I went to the grocery store and bought a chicken. I also had green beans and rice ready at hand, so I could make a proper meal out of it. Some lemon juice and olive oil on the chicken would give it good flavor and a nice crisp skin. I was ready to cook.

Now, before I keep going, I’m going to outline how I cook a chicken. Essentially, you roast it in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes per pound, and then add another half hour. Then you let it rest in the pan for ten to fifteen minutes before cutting it up and eating it. Very straight forward, right?

So imagine my shock when I realized there is no way I could possibly cook my chicken. There were two, very specific, reasons for this. One: the weight (mass) of the chicken was in kilograms. Two: my oven was in Celsius. The metric system was rearing its ugly head.

It is now that I must make a very embarrassing confession. I, like most American scientists, don’t actually “get” the metric system. Oh sure, I can do calculations in it up and down and all around all day, but do I really understand it? No. I can’t estimate distances in meters, I have no idea how heavy it is to carry a kilogram and heck if I know what the temperature in Celsius feels like. I’ve grown up with the English (or Empirical, if you like) system all my life, and that’s how I think.

In this specific situation, the chicken itself saved me. On the back of the packaging was a neat little tag that said to cook it at 190 C for 45 minutes per kilogram, plus another twenty. But it made me think: by being immersed in the metric system, will I understand it better? It’s a bit like being immersed in a language, so shouldn’t I gain the same sort of fluency, just in a system of measurement rather than a language?

The answer, I think, is yes. I still “translate” in my head when confronted with, for example, a temperature in Celsius, but I’m a lot faster at it then I was a few weeks ago. When I look up the weather in the morning and see that it’s 5 C outside, I no longer have to look up the conversion, I just remember that that’s around 40, so I’ll need my fleece jacket and a sweater. Actually, this morning I went straight from “4 C” to “jacket and sweater with a hat,” so I’ve really improved. Unfortunately for me, the British only mostly use the metric system (long distances are in miles, for example) so I will only mostly get used to it.

Nevertheless, I have gained something from my study abroad experience that I hadn’t expected. While it’s not the sort of cultural perspective I had been told I would gain, it is unbelievably useful. All scientists should go to Europe, at least once. It’s so much easier to work when you understand your tools, and that way you’ll be even better at using them. Oh, and in case you’re interested, a small chicken is about 1.5 kg. And with lemon and olive oil, a small chicken is delicious.
Originally written for the Scripps College Off-Campus Study Blog

Friday, February 4, 2011

Lovely weather we're having for this time of year

The weather today could be easily described in two words : winter squall. In fact, that could explain the weather for the last several days. Let me describe it for you:

  • Wednesday: mostly sunny, but with a cloudburst as I came back from the grocery store, followed by more sun. 
  • Wednesday night: thunder and lightning (yes really). 
  • Thursday morning: Snowing when I get up. Snaining by the time I finish breakfast. Raining on the way to class. Sun by the time I get out an hour later. 
  • Thursday afternoon: Raining lightly (misting, really) when I go to lab. Pouring rain with constant wind and sudden gusts three hours later.
  • Thursday evening: Continuation of the same wind conditions, but now with hail.
  • Friday: Rain and wind. All day. With ferocious gusts out of nowhere.

Exhibit A
 Of course, none of this phases the brave Scots, who simply layer on more wool, and, if it gets really awful, might possibly put on a mackintosh (rain coat). I, on the other hand, huddle inside, drinking copious amounts of tea and praying the windows don't break (yes, it's that windy).  Thank heaven for the fact that almost all the powerlines where I am are buried, or I'd worry about losing power.

In other news, I've decided that tomorrow is probably a bad day to go to the castle...