Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Simple Wisdom
Sixty years ago this month, George Kennan, then the policy planning chief for the U.S. State Department, wrote:
“To avoid destruction, the United States need only measure up to its own best traditions and prove itself worthy of preservation as a great nation.”
Too bad nobody paid any attention.
“To avoid destruction, the United States need only measure up to its own best traditions and prove itself worthy of preservation as a great nation.”
Too bad nobody paid any attention.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Mea Culpa
Alexis de Tocqueville, a French visitor to the U.S., wrote in 1830's:
"An American will build a house in which to pass his old age and sell it before the roof is on; he will plant a garden and rent it just as the trees are coming into bearing ... he will take up a profession and leave it, settle in one place and soon go off elsewhere. ... In the end, death steps in and stops him before he has grown tired of this futile pursuit of happiness, which always escapes him."
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Poetry for Foodie Friends
by Lynn Powell
The radio's replaying last night's winners
and the gratitude of the glamorous,
everyone thanking everybody for making everything
so possible, until I want to shush
the faucet, dry my hands, join in right here
at the cluttered podium of the sink, and thank
my mother for teaching me the true meaning of okra,
my children for putting back the growl in hunger,
my husband, primo uomo of dinner, for not
begrudging me this starring role—
without all of them, I know this soup
would not be here tonight.
And let me just add that I could not
have made it without the marrow bone, that blood—
brother to the broth, and the tomatoes
who opened up their hearts, and the self-effacing limas,
the blonde sorority of corn, the cayenne
and oregano who dashed in
in the nick of time.
Special thanks, as always, to the salt—
you know who you are—and to the knife,
who revealed the ripe beneath the rind,
the clean truth underneath the dirty peel.
—I hope I've not forgotten anyone—
oh, yes, to the celery and the parsnip,
those bit players only there to swell the scene,
let me just say: sometimes I know exactly how you feel.
But not tonight, not when it's all
coming to something and the heat is on and
I'm basking in another round
of blue applause.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Teeth Cleaning
Yesterday we had yet another encounter with the Mexican health care system, and had yet another great experience. We weren't necessarily surprised by the quality of the work, but in a country that seems to move in second gear most of the time, we were blown away by the dentist's speed and efficiency. [Yes, I said dentist, not hygienist.] Unlike in the States, she had an assistant wielding the the little suction contraption so there were no little "you can spit now" breaks. No idle chit-chat, either, even though she spoke near-perfect English. Once she turned on her cleaning tool, she didn't stop 'til we were done, motivated perhaps by the high-energy rock n' roll soundtrack filling the office. No obligatory x-rays either. When she finished with me, she declared me fit and food-worthy -- only joking that I ought to eat more candy so she might get more of my business. When Karen finished, the dentist pointed out three little cavities & scheduled a follow-up session. The cost for the cleaning: about $40. The cost for the fillings: $75 each and took about 30 minutes to fill all three.
My intention is not to get into any Michael Moore debates with anyone, but I can assure those of you who kept asking, "But what are going to do if you need health care?" you can all rest easy. In fact, if you need some dental work done, here's a suggestion: feel free to come down and use one of our guest rooms.
My intention is not to get into any Michael Moore debates with anyone, but I can assure those of you who kept asking, "But what are going to do if you need health care?" you can all rest easy. In fact, if you need some dental work done, here's a suggestion: feel free to come down and use one of our guest rooms.
A goofy Mexican joke... of sorts
We just received this from our old high school friend Grover. Enjoy!
Alice and Frank were Bungee jumping one day. Alice says to Frank, "You know we could make a lot of money running our own Bungee-jumping business in Mexico."
Frank thinks this is a great idea, so they pool their money and buy everything they need: a tower, an elastic cord, insurance, etc.
They travel to Mexico and begin to set up on the square. As they're constructing the tower, a crowd begins to assemble. Slowly, more andmore people gather to watch them at work. By the time they finished, there was such a crowd, they thought it would be a good idea to give a demonstration. So Alice jumps.
She bounces at the end of the cord, but when she comes back up, Frank notices that she has a few cuts and scratches. Unfortunately, Frank isn' able to catch her and she falls again, bounces, and comes back up again. This time, she is bruised and bleeding.Again, Frank misses her. Alice falls again and bounces back up. This time, she comes back pretty messed up -- she's got a couple of broken bones and is almost unconscious.
Luckily, Frank finally catches her and says, "What happened? Was the cord too long?"
Barely able to speak, Alice gasps, "No, the Bungee cord was fine... it
was the crowd!.... What the HELL is a piñata?!"
Quote for the Day
Our friend Valerie Hollinger sent us this today. Ahhh, if we could only take it to heart.
We must try to take life moment by moment. The actual present is usually pretty tolerable I think, if only we refrain from adding to its burden that of the past and the future.
C.S. Lewis
We must try to take life moment by moment. The actual present is usually pretty tolerable I think, if only we refrain from adding to its burden that of the past and the future.
C.S. Lewis
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Excuse My Vanity
As most of you know, I'm an unabashed foodie and an enthusiastic (if not necessarily accomplished) amateur chef. Having pretty much never met a rule I didn't rush to break, my culinary forté has become "make it up as you go" cooking. Our friends the Goodwins call it "ready-set-cook" cuisine. Karen often refers to it simply as "fakin' it." Anyway, over the past seven or eight years, I've transcribed a small number of my more successful efforts. (Successful = Karen & I liked it.) Or, more to the point, the ones I could actually remember after an evening of equally spontaneous wine pairings. Anyway, with too much retirement time on my hands, I built a little website to share said recipes with adventurous foodie friends. No guarantees anyone else will like them, but what the hell? If you like bold flavors and like to play in the kitchen, feel free to give 'em a try.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
July Visitors
Being from SC, we're used to seeing a lot of egrets in the marshes along the coast. What a surprise to discover hundreds of them nesting high up in the trees of Parque Juarez (San Miguel's "Central Park"), hundreds of miles from any ocean. At a distance they appear to be large fluffy globs of snow that haven't yet melted after a storm. Up close, well... let me first say that egrets are large animals with active digestive systems. Guano covers the walkways of the park, and most leaves on low-lying vegetation are generously mottled in white. Park visitors gaze upward to both marvel at these large, graceful birds, and to dodge the falling guano. And the smell? You can only imagine. Oh yeah, and then there's the soundtrack. Imagine Marilyn Monroe stepping up to a microphone, smiling her most seductive smile. She parts her lips to speak and out comes Bobcat Goldwait. We recently visited some folks who were paying $33,000/month to rent an astoundingly beautiful mansion adjacent to the park. As much as they enjoyed watching the birds, they definitely would've preferred monarch butterflies.
Customer Service Lives!
After three days in and out of the muck-lined Green River, my brand new Teva sandals gave up the ghost -- coming apart, literally, at the seams. Workmanship? Durability? Needless to say, I was sorely disappointed. A couple weeks later, in Sacramento, I took the corpse to the local REI to see if they could help. Kudos first to REI. While they wouldn't exchange the shoes, they got me the Teva customer service number and then, as directed by Teva, actually filled out the return form for me on-line, printed the required mailing label and wrote me out directions to the nearest post office. Big kudos to Teva. The customer service rep. listened to my story and without missing a beat, directed me to return the damaged sandals. Her only question: do you want another pair or a cash refund. She even volunteered that they'd pay any shipping and duty costs to get them back to me in Mexico. Three weeks later my new sandals arrived in San Miguel. Done deal. Although it's all too rare these days, I love it when a company "gets it" and treats customers right. Looking for outdoor gear? Shop at REI. Looking for footwear? Try some Tevas.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
An Expat Independence Day
The 4th of July turned out to be another one of those San Miguel days of weird and wonderful juxtapositions. Frankly, as guests in another county, our inclination was to treat the day as any other -- answer e-mails, hit the mercado, drink some margaritas, etc. But our friends the Hardys invited us to be their guests at "one of the biggest and best parties of the year" in San Miguel. How could we say no? So we pulled on our very best jeans and headed up the hill.
The party was hosted by three friends, long-term residents who originally hailed from New Orleans. Their home? A huge, multi-level pink mansion with awesome views, lush landscaping and stunning artwork. Their guests? Genteel older folks, mostly. The guys in crisply pressed slacks, button-down shirts and in many cases, sport coats. The women decked out in red, white & blue finery. It was as if we'd stepped into a country club picnic held perhaps at Ronald Coleman's place in Bel-Air. For the first time ever in San Miguel, our jeans didn't get it. We expected George and Barbara Bush to come waltzing in any second.
Thankfully, the hosts were extremely gracious and the bar was extremely well-stocked. We loaded up on falling-off-the-bone ribs, smoked brisket, barbeque beans and blackberry cobbler and for the next couple of hours rubbernecked our way around the place. "Oh wow! "Holy shit!" "Did you see their shower?!" Embarrassing, yeah? Well the truth is, if you're the raisin in the rice pudding, no amount of alcohol is gonna change that. So, at our friend Tuli's suggestion, we changed venues... and headed down to the grand opening of her friend's new sex shop.
Need I say it, this event attracted an entirely different crowd. Lots of bold cleavage, a fair amount of leather, assorted tats, piercings, etc... And the food? Think sausages with a couple of meatballs attached to their bases, and cream cheese vulvas with clitoral capers. Here we knew a few people, including an artist who specializes in vagina art. But after buying some fresh incense and a few glittery party masks (don't ask), we decided to call it a night. Walking home, we once again marveled at this diverse and endlessly unpredictable place we now call home.
Yes we're in Mexico. But if he'd hung out with us this particular 4th of July, and seen all the wacky, creative, independent, freedom-seeking individuals we encountered, I think Thomas Jefferson would have been laughing his as off.
The party was hosted by three friends, long-term residents who originally hailed from New Orleans. Their home? A huge, multi-level pink mansion with awesome views, lush landscaping and stunning artwork. Their guests? Genteel older folks, mostly. The guys in crisply pressed slacks, button-down shirts and in many cases, sport coats. The women decked out in red, white & blue finery. It was as if we'd stepped into a country club picnic held perhaps at Ronald Coleman's place in Bel-Air. For the first time ever in San Miguel, our jeans didn't get it. We expected George and Barbara Bush to come waltzing in any second.
Thankfully, the hosts were extremely gracious and the bar was extremely well-stocked. We loaded up on falling-off-the-bone ribs, smoked brisket, barbeque beans and blackberry cobbler and for the next couple of hours rubbernecked our way around the place. "Oh wow! "Holy shit!" "Did you see their shower?!" Embarrassing, yeah? Well the truth is, if you're the raisin in the rice pudding, no amount of alcohol is gonna change that. So, at our friend Tuli's suggestion, we changed venues... and headed down to the grand opening of her friend's new sex shop.
Need I say it, this event attracted an entirely different crowd. Lots of bold cleavage, a fair amount of leather, assorted tats, piercings, etc... And the food? Think sausages with a couple of meatballs attached to their bases, and cream cheese vulvas with clitoral capers. Here we knew a few people, including an artist who specializes in vagina art. But after buying some fresh incense and a few glittery party masks (don't ask), we decided to call it a night. Walking home, we once again marveled at this diverse and endlessly unpredictable place we now call home.
Yes we're in Mexico. But if he'd hung out with us this particular 4th of July, and seen all the wacky, creative, independent, freedom-seeking individuals we encountered, I think Thomas Jefferson would have been laughing his as off.
Another Culinary Treat
At a mezcal tasting the other night, I had the opportunity (after several servings of mezcal) to try chapolines. Chapolines? Fried grasshoppers coated with lime and chile powder. They're a famous snack item from Oaxaca, and according to our host, pack a per-ounce protein punch two to three times that of lean beef or fresh fish. Ergo their popularity. Would I eat them again? Absolutely. Would I rush out and buy a bunch to keep on hand next to the cashews. Probably not. They tasted fine, but in all honesty, looked just like, well... dead grasshoppers.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Moooooo!
Another San Miguel treat: fresh-from-the-cow milk delivered to our doorstep several times a week. 6 pesos (approx. 60 cents) per liter. It looks a little funky as the cream separates, but boy is it good. And from everything we read, good for us too.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Once a red hot, always a red hot
The Miz worked her ass off... as always, and was duly rewarded. (Imagine Pomp & Circumstance playing in the background.) Congratulatory e-mails can be sent to karen@gootmail.net.
Mike on the other hand...
Manteca
As I've strived (is that a word?) for authenticity in my Mexican kitchen, I went out and bought a package of manteca (lard) -- basically the homogenized, pure white, Crisco-esque goop they sell in the States. Last week, however, as our housekeeper and I hit the mercado to get ingredients for our marathon tamale-making session*, she set me straight. She only buys the good stuff. The good stuff is basically the fat rendered from a roasted pig. (FYI: Here they call roast pork carnitas, but it's pretty much identical to good Southern pulled pork with the some extra body parts thrown in for good measure.) Anyway, post-roast the carnitas guys strain the fat, refrigerate it and sell it in 1 kilo bags. What a revelation! Rich, satisfying, fuck-your-arteries, down home pork flavor. Yum.
*A lot of work to be sure, but we cranked out five dozen in one morning. Next up: menudo!
*A lot of work to be sure, but we cranked out five dozen in one morning. Next up: menudo!
