Food in Taos

One of the (many) joys of being human is eating well-prepared food. Food reflects both culture and place. It has its creation in the roots of the people who prepare it, and its substance in the bounty of the land and the sea. Living things are transformed by us into food that transforms and sustains us. Maybe that's why I enjoy cooking and eating so much. They are transformative and sacramental acts that have the power to imbue us with the culture, the history, and the elemental essence of the cooks and their landscapes from which the food springs.

So I am here in Taos. Over the past several three weeks, I've had a few "southwestern" meals. One was a soulless experience at a chain restaurant in Grand Lake, Colorado. Another was a timid meal at a cafe in Cortez, Colorado. But tonight at Graham's Grille in Taos, New Mexico, I had a meal that was true to its place, and in which the chef's sense of ingredients, textures, tastes, and fidelity to the dish all came together in a wonderful, sensual way. The chicken and green chile tamale pie was an entree to savor and delight in. I ate it slowly, deliberately tasting and enjoying it. It had a fragrant, corny taste. The cheese was just messy enough, but didn't overwhelm the rest of the dish. The green chile added a sweet heat to the tamale and the tamale was buried beneath chopped lettuce, tomatoes, a dollop of guacamole and two blue corn tortilla chips, happy to be along for the occasion.

Tonight's experience is what food should be about: a meal born in the chef's heart, knowledge, and skill; faithful to the ingredients; acknowledging the cultural context of the dish; and preparation \in a fashion that recreates the dish, and challenges our notions of what we thought the dish should be. That experience makes for a delightful meal.

Southaven Nights

We're still in Southaven. Ron called the airlines this morning after discovering that our flight had been cancelled a second time. Our next attempted departure will be on Tuesday. That's a week we've spent here. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Today's adventure started with the tire indicator lit. So when we got to Mom's we checked the tire pressure and found a nail in the passenger-side rear tire. Alex got out her compressor (she has everything in her garage), and topped off the tire, and proceeded to top off the other rear tire. In the process, the valve head came out, so now I had two flat tires, instead of one. We proceeded to change the tire with the defective valve, and went in search of a place to change the other tire on a Sunday.

Walmart, what a marketplace delight, especially for people in need on a Sunday. I filled out an order, then we were off to a Chinese buffet for lunch. It wasn't bad. I didn't have intestinal discomfort afterwards. Ron and I went back to Walmart, but the car wasn't ready quite yet.

When it was ready, I was told that they hadn't done any work on it because the valve is a special valve only available from the dealer. I told them to go and install a regular valve. At this point, I don't care about the rental car or contract; I need a car to drive. The guys quickly repaired both tires, and we came back to the hotel.

The problem, then, is what to do for dinner. We were invited over to Larry and Sherri's to eat and watch the Super Bowl. Ron and I are actually a lot gayer than that. We called Alex and politely declined, then went for a walk, had a nap, and ended up at the Olive Garden for dinner. We had a nice glass of wine, some bread sticks, some pasta, and a nice evening of looking each other in the eye and thinking what a nice evening to be together with you.

Memphis Barbeque

Okay, after that last whiny blog entry I should be ashamed of myself. Tonight, we took Mom to the Olive Garden to meet up with Ron's sister, Alex, and have dinner. Well, 6:30 on a Friday night in Southaven, Mississippi is the time when the natives all go Italian. The place was packed, and we were shunted off to a very smoky bar. I wasn't too keen to spend 45 minutes there to be seated for dinner.

Alex suggested that Ron and I go somewhere else to eat if we didn't want to wait for dinner, and that she and Mom would eat at the bar. After a few indecisive moments, Ron and I headed for the door, jumped in the bright red minivan, and headed down Airways Boulevard in the direction of Scooter's Barbeque.

We had seen Scooter's when we first got into town on Tuesday, but I didn't think that we'd actually have a chance to eat there. It's a very down-home unpretentious carryout/restaurant. The video was playing some great rockin' blues and the smell from the kitchen was 100% barbeque, a wonderful smoky aroma that let you know you were in the right place for some great food.

I'm a fan of pulled or chopped pork sandwiches. For dinner tonight, I had a chopped pork sandwhich with slaw, barbeque beans, potato salad, lemon cake, and iced tea. It set me back $4.95. The barbeque spoke to me with its vinegary smoky-sweet goodness. The meat was moist, tender, and most of all smoky, but not assertive or bitter. It is some of the best 'que I've ever eaten.

The sides were good country cooking, too. The beans were sweet, but not too, with chunks of barbequed pork. The potato salad would have made any of my aunts proud to say it was there own. The lemon cake was just the right way to end this memorable meal. Scooter's should be on your list of places to visit when you get tired of Graceland or the Orpheum. Head for Southaven, and the corner of Airways and Goodman.

Jerry's Excellent Adventure

Last Monday, I headed out West to see my friend Jerry. He has been on a cycling trip across America. Our original plan was that I would catch up with him in the wilderness fastness of Northern Idaho, but alas, Jerry biked too fast.

That's getting a little ahead of my tale. I had a nonstop AirTran flight into Seattle. I upgraded to Business Class (yay!!). The flight arrived ontime at SeaTac, and I was in a rental car headed south on I-5 before 10 a.m. PDT. I'm getting ahead of myself, again. I had a window seat. I enjoy flying across America, because I'm always awestruck at how big this nation really is. From the air, it mostly looks empty. I love looking at the topography, seeing the mountains, the farmlands, the towns and cities below. Sometimes I know what I'm looking at, and other times I don't, but it's a fascinating and amazing kaleidoscope below.

Because of the time change, I was hungry about the time I hit Kelso, WA. After a tasty bean soup and a tuna sandwich, and a flirty waitress, I headed on down to Oregon, missing the I-205 bypass around Portland, my mistake.

Welcome to Downtown Portland. I knew that US26 crossed I-5 somewhere in Portland. Just as I was about to despair, I saw US26 East on a sign, and I believed in miracles. The miracle was shortlived, because I first missed the turnoff, and instead of being on US26, I was headed directly across the river into downtown. I turned around and headed back across the river, took the exit ramp, and found myself in the middle of a detour that ended in a parking lot. I ended up on SR99-E going south. I pulled into a Shell station, and they hadn't a clue where US26 East was. I turned around and headed north to run into US26, bigger than life. Then I got to see many, many miles of beautiful Portland stretch out before, then Gresham. Many a stoplight, many a store, many a strip mall, and not a few places to buy liquor. I finally stumbled out of the metropolis and headed on the open road.

I was about the only car on the road. The mountains are beautiful, and Mt. Hood is spectacular close up. The car ate up the pavement, and I arrived in Mitchell, Oregon around 5 p.m., hot and tired, but a happy guy. Jerry had already arrived at our motel (The Sky Hook), but was out shopping for food for dinner. I met him on the road to town. He was on the way back with fixin's, and I went to the store to buy some libations.

Our room was actually a suite! The owners, not having a lot of business this week, gave us a free upgrade. The Sky Hook is an old roadside hotel that the owners have (evidently) extensively renovated into a quaint, nicely furnished down home accommodation. It's not the Ritz, but it's great for crackers. We liked the room very much.

It was really nice to see Jerry. For all you Jerry fans, he's looking good! All that cycling has turned everything into sinewy muscle, and I'm more than a little envious of the results. Although I'm not sure that I want to cycle all the way across America to look like that. He gave me his killer smile as we boiled water for the pasta, and I chopped celery.

Jerry's not a vegetarian, but he's not much of a meat-eater, either. He's kind of like Ron in that respect. But an onion, celery, lemon, cottage cheese, pasta, salt, and pepper do a meal make. It was a very tasty and filling meal, indeed. I really need to reflect on my personal biases, and get over them.

The next Jerry and I decided to stay another day in Mitchell, do some hiking, poke around, find a swim hole, that kind of stuff. We had a breakfast at Route 26 Espresso, at least that's what was painted on the side of the cafe. The food was tasty, typical breakfast fare. It's open only for breakfast and lunch, and the opening time is sometimes later than the posted 7 a.m. That didn't curb our appetites. We met a local at the cafe who proceeded to tell us (several times and in incredible detail) what hike we should take in the Painted Hills national monument. I had eggs, hashbrowns, and toast. The local had sausage gravy and biscuits.

Jerry and I drove into the Painted Hills, and they are worth the visit. They are clay deposits colored by volcanic ash and mineralized water. The clay is so absorptive that it prevents plants from growing on the hills, so there is a bright, vivid hue across the hills. We hiked in where the local guy suggested. He should have given us some more incredible detail, because it wasn't quite enough to see the panorama that he promised. On the other hand, it was a very nice hike, lots of flowers, and it was just fun to be out on a trail in the middle of nowhere.

After the hike, we drove around the park, looking at several formations. We took lots of pictures, which someday will be published in the blog entry. I promise.

When we got back from the park, we headed to the Little Pine Cafe for lunch. They have a very good, if a little salty, split pea soup with ham. Jerry and I recommend the BLT. The Cowboy BBQ Burger is also very good, but very messy. It's worth the risk. Way too many flies in the restaurant on a hot afternoon: they were very friendly.

We asked our waitress and some of the other cafe help where we could find a swimming hole. They pointed us toward Spray, Oregon, about 26 miles away. We headed into the mountains.

The road winds up and down several grades, some of them kind of exciting. Just before the junction where SR207 joins SR19, Jerry pointed out a swimming hole in the creek. The creek is far enough off the road that we felt we could probably skinny dip with causing too much offense to the local population, so we did. The day was hot, and the water was not so hot, so we enjoyed the dip. Then on down the road to Spray. It's a town a little smaller than Mitchell, but a better stocked general store (although that's relative). Jerry is quite adept at assessing stores in small towns to the adequacy of a cyclist's diet on the road. It's one of the challenges of biking across vast empty stretches of America. Most of the food is expired. A long time ago.

We took a different road back toward Mitchell. We wound up a long, wooded, mountainous hill, turned a corner and were suddenly crossing an irrigated flat with some contented cows. The sun was at an angle that turned the pastures into gold and green wonders. We were taken with the beauty of the moment. And finally we turned onto US26 and headed back into Mitchell for dinner at the Little Pine Cafe.

This time we ate outside, and the flies pretty much ignored us. The location also gave us the vantage to accost all the cyclists walking up and down the sidewalk, and inquiring where they were headed, then Jerry and the newfound friend would start geeking out in the secret language of those who cycle across America. It's a secret society. Every cyclist seems to know about every other cyclist, even if they've never met. And each cyclist passes secret lore unto other cyclists so that it spreads up and down the trail. After listening to several of these conversations, and having Jerry tell me stories, I have a newfound respect for cyclists, and I was grateful to witness it's society on the move. Remember to share the road the next time you see a cyclist. It's their road, too.

After dinner, we visited Henry the Bear, then headed back to the Sky Hook. The day was magical. But I think Jerry's magical, too.

Thanks for the excellent adventure.

Almost Back to Politics as Usual

And by that, I mean we're a day out from Washington, DC. Of course, the world revolves around DC, that's why we're headed back. We're camped out in a Fairfield Inn in Ashland, Kentucky for the night, then the long schlep home tomorrow.

We've had a nice vacation, and it doesn't seem like we've been gone for two and half weeks. But if you add up the days, that's what it comes out to. I've enjoyed the trip. Almost all of it was on Interstates. That was okay for me. I've seen a few places that I'd like to which I'd like to return. We stopped at Mammoth Caves National Park this morning, and I think I wouldn't mind spending a few days there, just knocking around.

Yesterday, we said goodbye to Mom and Alex, and made it to Bowling Green, Kentucky. We had a chance to get downtown, walk around the square, and had a delightful dinner on the square. As we were walking afterwards, we came upon some (slightly inebriated) college students who were playing a game with beanbags and a board with a hole in it. We politely inquired, and before the end of the conversation, we, too, were playing Kentucky Cornhole. It's very different than the cornhole game I was told about as a child. Oh well, who knew?

Ole Miss

Ron and I have been in Mississippi for the last couple of days. We attended the CMEN men's gathering last week (Saturday to Saturday). We both enjoyed the gathering, and I won a registration for next year as part of a raffle. We're seriously considering it for next spring.

Thumbs up: small gathering where you get to know many of the men; laid back and friendly gathering; pretty good food, considering. Thumbs down: mosquitoes, though they appeared to be slow and dumb; a few instances of uncomfortable crossing of intimate boundaries; a couple of guys who took themselves far too seriously.

I think what I enjoyed the most about the whole experience has been the road trip. I truly enjoy pointing the car down the road and watching the trees go by. After the gathering, Ron and I headed south to the Florida Panhandle, eventually arriving in Pensacola. We parked the car and took a walk around a boardwalk in one of the many beach towns. The air was hot and steamy, but we got in our daily walk.

We headed out of Pensacola toward Mobile. The weather was a little stormy, but nothing that a duck wouldn't like. We spent Saturday night in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. The parts of the Deep South that we've seen look pretty much like what you'd see in Maryland, or Illinois. Lots of Chilis, McDonalds, and a hundred other familiar franchises. There are a couple of regional favorites. Sonic is a regional burger joint. Kangaroo is a service station chain. We ate at an Outback Steakhouse Saturday evening. The food is predictable, because you could eat it at a hundred other Outbacks, but it's a pleasure to sit, listen, and observe the locals. I speak differently than the locals, and I really enjoyed listening to the cadence and vowels of close by conversations. It was a treat to see the dress, manners, and culture of Hattiesburg played out in the local Outback.

Saturday and Sunday, we drove all the way across Mississippi from the southeast to the northwest corner. Southaven is the first town in Mississippi south of Memphis, and it's a different kind of Mississippi than one would find in the Delta (I mean, we are so far NORTH that we're almost Yankees here). Sunday night we had dinner with Sherry, Evelyn, Larry, Kymberli, and Kiel. Sherry is a great homestyle cook. She fixed us some wonderful chicken, white beans and ham, cauliflower, and fried potatoes.

Larry and Sherry are friends of Mom and Alex. Like Alex, Sherry is taking care of her mother. I see situations like this, and I'm grateful for my own good health, and hope that it lasts me for the rest of my life. Old age isn't very pretty close up.

Georgia on My Mind

Tonight, Ron and I are staying in Columbus, Georgia at the Fairfield Inn and Suites. This sure beats last night's Quality Inn in Statesville.

Of course, work on the outdoor pool that started at 6:45 this morning didn't help my opinion of the Quality Inn. I'm an expert on "budget" hotels, and Marriott definitely has it over Comfort. Oh yeah, I know the Mormon connection and the outcry I'll hear from my boycotting comrades. But Marriott really does know how to make me happy.

We had dinner at Ben's Chop House. It had the weirdest prices. Evidently, spinach is a highly valued commodity in these parts. I had a chicken caesar salad, and Ron had grilled salmon. I coulda had a $45 steak, but didn't. The Tiramisu was remarkably good. We shared it.

We also drove across the northwest corner of South Carolina. Being on the Interstate makes driving easy, but boring. So it's nice to get completely off the road for lunch. We ate at Tucker's Restaurant and Bar in Anderson, South Carolina. It's casual, but upscale. Our waitress had honey blonde hair, looked like an aging cheerleader (still a good looker), and the Southern vernacular fell from her lips in a sweet, comforting speech that bespoke breeding and good manners. How could I not have a splendid lunch? Seared tuna with a side of black beans and rice. I was not disappointed.

I received an email from my friend Jerry. He's on the ultimate bike trip across America. Read more about it on his blog. He and I are hoping to meet sometime this summer on his epic trip, either on this trip, or when I'm in Idaho later in the summer.

On the Road Again

Ron and I got on the road about 10:15 this morning, all the way to the Silver Diner. He had Blueberry Pancakes, and I had the Ragin' Cajun Skillet. After a quick stop at CVS, we were off!

Virginia is a big state! We took the Beltway to I-66, then I-66 to I-83. We eventually ended up on I-77. We passed through Harrisonburg, Blacksburg, and Roanoke, but you really never know it when you are on the Interstate. We made two or three rest stops (Hey! Quit rollin' yer eyes!) to stretch our legs.

Tonight we're staying in Statesville, North Carolina. I'm not sure what Statesville's claim to fame is, but it has two interstates crossing at the north edge of town. We're staying in the Quality Inn on Sullivan Road. We went out to Carolina Bar-B-Q for dinner. The sauce is North Carolina (thin and vinegar) and Texas Pete. Pulled pork, hushpuppies, fried okra, and a curiosity: BBQ coleslaw. Ron had barbequed chicken. I wasn't complaining.

I'm not used to the speech here. It's not what you hear on the mean streets of Wheaton. Ron and I probably sound a bit strange, too.

Square Dance Weekend!

Tim and I just got back from a square dance weekend - an Advanced program put on by John Marshall and Mary Hutchinson. The weekend was held in York, Pennsylvania at the Yorktowne Hotel. Tim and I both enjoyed ourselves.

Advanced dancing is a program that can separate aficionados from the social butterflies, and I don't mean to impugn anybody's character with that remark. In my own experience, the conceptual leap from Plus to Advanced is greater than from Advanced to C-1. Advanced really opened up my eyes to the endless possibilities of square dancing.

The other dancers on the floor, for the most part, had much more experience than Tim and I. Most of the couples were older than us, and the floor probably moved more slowly as a result. That's not a bad thing, either. Many of the couples do not have regular opportunities to dance Advanced, so they eagerly look forward to this weekend. The reach of square dancing is declining, and I keep hoping that something will happen in America to rekindle its interest in this folk dance.

John had a number of dance surprises for us. While the level of the dancing wasn't particularly difficult, his calling demands a focus on his instructions, and a strong grasp of square dance call definitions. John always means what he says, no matter how confused the dancers are. He had us do several calls from non-standard positions, and he taught us some new moves, too.

Tim and I danced together. We were the only gay couple, and we alternated boy/girl each of the five dance sessions. The women quickly got used to one of us dancing as a girl. The men were a little more challenged by it, but by the end of the first session, were not have any difficulty with it. A couple of times, a guy would mistake our "changed" gender, but that didn't happen very often. And to the guys' credit, almost all of them would swing us when we were in the girl's role.

The Yorktowne Hotel is a great square dance location. It has hardwood floors in the Continental and George Washington Rooms. The hotel has composite flooring for other rooms that have carpeting. The hotel features a four-star restaurant, but also has a cafe and a couple of bars. This being York, the bars close very early. The guest rooms and beds are comfortable. Eating opportunities outside the hotel are kind of sparse within walking distance; however with a car, there are many places to dine.

So that's my report: I'm hoping for more dancing at the Yorktowne.

Odd 'n' Ends in Wheaton

It's potluck for today's posting. I apologize to all of my (seven) fans out there, but life is just too busy to keep this up to date in any kind of dependable manner. You're just going to have to put up with it. It sounds like this blog may be in its death throes, but that's JUST NOT THE TRUTH!

Jerry peddled all the way to Wheaton on Wednesday from Arlington. He came here for lunch at Woodlands in Langley Park. It's an Indian vegetarian restaurant, and the food is just plain wonderful. Of course, it gives me heartburn for the next day or so, and I always eat way too much, but that's my problem. You should go there and eat!

Jerry is taking an Indian vegetarian cooking course in Arlington, so we stopped at the Indian market next to Woodlands so that he could buy some black and green cardamom pods. Jerry cooks authentically. In fact, Jerry is about the most authentic guy that I know. He's getting ready for a cross-country bicycle ride. You'll hear more about that in this blog.

In other excitement around here, Ron and I are planning a road trip for May. We're going to a naturist gathering for a week in Alabama (yeah, I rolled my eyes in disbelief, too), then on to Mississippi to visit his Mom for a few days. It's the second road trip for the Prius (the first one was a square dance weekend to Poughkeepsie, NY). This will be a couple of thousand miles, and I have all the guidebooks and maps. I'm psyched.

I'm also making a quick trip to Moscow, ID the last week in April. The Women's Center at the University of Idaho invited me back to participate in an event on the 30th. I'm very happy to be able to do this. I'm very fond of the University of Idaho.

Yesterday Tim and I made a pilgrimage to Suburban Hospital. Tim needed some repair work done. I got stuck in a social faux pas (and in the aftermath, learned about Buridian's Ass, and indeed how I appear, sometimes, to be (actually!) an ass. Tim's looking good, and we got his prescription filled for happy stuff so that he's in no pain. He should be able to start drinking shortly.

And that's the news from Bucknell Terrace. Oh, I should add that I went square dancing last night with Marshall's Deputies. We learned all about "weave" from quarter tag, waves, and t-boned positions. I still do the call wrong, but at least I know that it's wrong.

Pad Thai on Bucknell Terrace

I'm not exactly Thai, although I did know a Thai foreign student in Moscow, Idaho in the mid-60s. I've been wanting to make Pad Thai for years. It's one of my favorite foods. Whenever I would look at a recipe, the list of ingredients and the preparation looked daunting, but no more!

A while ago, I bought Ron a Thai recipe book, Simply Thai Cooking (Young and Ayanoglu, Robert Rose, 1996, Toronto, Canada). I've only cooked two recipes in it: one for Pad Thai, and the other for roasted chilies. In the last 25 years, I've eaten lots of Pad Thai, but the recipe in this book (on page 76) produces a dish that is every bit as good as I've had in any Thai restaurant.

Yes, the ingredient list is a little daunting, but if you buy the tamarind paste, you'll be able to make three or four batches of Pad Thai (yummm!). In the local Asian grocery, I was confronted with dozens of varieties of fish sauce (an essential ingredient for Pad Thai and many other Thai dishes). I went to the Internet, used my trusty Google, and purchased a recommended brand (Golden Boy) for a whopping $1.69.

So tonight, I fixed Ron some Pad Thai. What a satisfying meal. This is the kind of experience that only whets my appetite for additional Thai culinary adventures. Stay tuned.

What's Up?

I ran into an old flame of sorts today in the gym. He's a guy that I was seeing a couple of years ago. We sometimes run into each other, and today was one of those times. He's 29, and worried about turning 30. I told him that it only goes down hill from here. I enjoyed seeing him, and talking with him. I always enjoy running into my past.

This afternoon, I went over to Tim's for a romp. He played a DVD to keep me company while he prepped himself. It was almost too much excitement, or maybe it's that the older I get, the less it takes to impress. I'm not sure. I'm certainly of a certain age these days, and it becomes more apparent every day. I think I'm still in recovery from visiting my Mom....

And it's so good to be back on my turf. I went square dancing last night. I was the resident dunce, but it didn't seem to matter, and I'm very good at following directions. The routine of the gym (and the "online" experiences) remind me that I'm home doing the things I love to do. The perfect poached egg this morning fortified those sentiments. When you are retired, the little things aren't nearly so little anymore.

Ron and I are headed out to a Mug Muck restaurant social in a few minutes. We're going to Crisfield's, a top-rated local seafood restaurant that remains legendary. Having dinner with Ron at the end of the day is just the right thing to do.

Here's More Details

I apologize for the rather short earlier email today, but it was on my Blackberry, and my thumb finally gave out. As you can guess, we are having a wonderful time doing all sorts of stuff. We enjoyed the beach this morning, then spent some time this afternoon walking around the outside walls of Óbidos. It's probably a couple of kilometers, and a lot of up and down hill walking.

We left Lisbon on Saturday, rented our car, and headed out of town to Sintra, which was the summer residence of the Portuguese royal family. Sintra has a huge National Palace, all sorts of other rather fanciful architecture, and a Moorish fortress looming over the skyline of the village. It really is quite a breathtaking place. It also has a rainforest microclimate, so all sorts of interesting flora are about. We walked through one of the parks to get to the Moorish castle, and it's a very verdant area, particularly on the lower parts of the mountain.

The Moorish castle dates from the 800s or so. It's built around the crown of a group of hills overlooking Sintra. The castle and town were where the Moorish governor lived. When the Moors were driven out in the 1200s, the King of Portugal took over the Moorish palace as his own royal residence, and it remained such until the 1910 revolution. We toured the palace and the castle, and although it is full of nice furnishing and the like, I think I'd still prefer 2101 Bucknell Ter.

After leaving Sintra, we took lots of back roads (we're talking Idaho, here) to Torres Verdes, and finally got on the freeway headed toward Óbidos, although it was touch and go there for a while. Let's just say that all the maps and signs are in Portuguese.... We got totally lost in Torres Verdes, and stopped at a gas station. I spoke to the guy in halting Portuguese, and he responded in voluble Portuguese, but it was all right, because I really did understand him! He drew us a map, and got us on our way. The Portuguese have been very friendly to us, and they really do appreciate you trying to engage them in their language.

We spent all of Sunday walking around Óbidos. It's a beautiful walled town that's been around since the 800s. (Romans, Visigoths, Moors, and Christians - quite a kaleidoscope.) The town is whitewashed with lots of the traditional Portuguese blue tiles. They are very beautiful, and are still made (for the Portuguese, and for the tourists). As I mentioned in my earlier letter, Óbidos is a tourist trap, but a very friendly one, and we enjoyed going into the different shops. Later in the day, we had a nice dinner inside the village. We have eaten well ever since we arrived. The wines are fantastic, and yesterday Grace discovered a cherry-chocolate liqueur that is made locally, and can be drunk (happily) locally, too.

Today we had the adventure at the beach. Grace is bringing home some genuine Portuguese Rocks. They may actually end up in your Christmas stockings. We enjoyed the company of the two German hitchhikers. One of the them said that they had waited for the bus for 30 minutes, before we picked them up. I was so grateful that the bus didn't come! We had a snack in the town we took them to (Baleal), then headed back here so that we could circumlocute the city wall here.

And that's about it for today.

Earlier that day...

We're still in Portugal. We've been in Obidos for a couple of nights. The Internet access here isn't, so I'm sending this from my Blackberry.

Obidos is a picture-perfect turistico trap, and we have truly been enjoying that. It is a very pretty town, complete with wall and castle. We're staying in a very nice hotel with an appropriate soupcon of quaintness.

Today we went to the beach at Peniche, and checked out a couple of other tiny beach towns. We also picked up a couple of German hitchhikers and took them to the village in which they were staying. Very nice guys on holiday.

Hope you are all well. I'll write more soon. Lyn, I hope your 40th was really grand, and I really appreciate that you let me steal your Mom. I guess I owe you big time.

Love, Grace and JB

Lisbon Memories

September 19, 2008 - Grace and I just finished our Berlitz class, just about 10 minutes ago. Talk about a graduation ceremony! We shall be leaving Lisbon tomorrow to go to Obidos (oo - bi - dush) and points north. You may not hear from us for a while, because we don't know what the Internet situation is there. We'll certainly contact you from Porto, unless we find something better to do.

We have had a wonderful stay in Lisbon. Last night we were in the Alfama at a Fado club (look it up...) and heard some great singing, and ate a very nice meal. Afterwards we walked through the Baixa neighborhood. We also had a chance to see the Praça Commercio, and some really outsize monuments. Portugal may be small in land area, but its statues are bigger than Texas.

We saw a six-story house on a hill whose "ground" floor was on the fourth floor, and whose basement was on the street about 50 ft below. That's how steep the hills are in the Alfama. Baixa is the neighborhood that was destroyed in the earthquake of 1755, and completely rebuilt following the quake. It is a very flat neighborhood, and is one of the few areas in town where streets are straight.

We hope you are all doing well. Boa Tarde!

Grace and John

The Berlitz Wall

There seems to be some confusion as to exactly what Grace and I are doing in Europe. I often ask myself that, myself. Why are Grace and I in Europe, and of all places, why in Portugal. First of all, PORTUGAL IS NOT SPAIN. Just thought I'd throw that geographic tip in. Secondly, PORTUGUESE IS NOT SPANISH. This is a very important fact that apparently most people don't know. In fact, while talking to the Portuguese, you'll be amazed at how much they seem to be Canadians, only, they are speaking Portuguese.

Grace and I are now FLUENT language speakers. We can recognize sardines and pork chops on cafe menus. I know how to order coffee with milk. Two words will be your best friends: obrigado/a and desculpe. Obrigado/a (masculine/feminine forms) means thank you, and desculpe means excuse me, or sorry. You can open just about any conversation with desculpe, and end it with obrigado or obrigada.

Occasionally, we've run into situations where the other party didn't speak any English. This is not a problem. In fact, if you can open your eyes wide enough, the Bambi in the headlight look will solve most communication problems. A large part of the Berlitz school curriculum that we are taking is to help us to get just the right look on our faces when confronted by this challenge. First, open your mouth a little wider than normal, and clench a bit. Next, make your eyes as round as possible. Finally, arch your eyebrows while wrinkling your forehead. The teachers make us stand in front of a mirror to practice. I think we both have it down pretty well.

Food - again not a problem. The Portuguese, taken together, on average weigh about 40 lbs less than Americans, taken together. This is because they only eat cake or bread and coffee for breakfast, and they smoke a lot. They never eat eggs for breakfast (and here I really am telling the truth); eggs, either fried or scambled are on lunch and dinner menus. Meats are often served with a fried egg on top, but the smoking cuts down all the cholesterol. Some interesting dishes I've eaten so far: chicken with a fried egg, boiled bacalhau (salted cod) with potatoes (cozido), grilled squid, grilled pescado (grilled catch of the day). Bacalhau is Portugal's national treasure. It's a salted, dried codfish which is now eaten on special occasions. I really enjoyed the cozido; I expect I'll be eating more of Mr. Cod. Oh, almost every meal comes with potatoes AND rice. I like that. You can never have too many carbohydrates. Olives, lots of olives. Sardine pâté is also a big hit around here.

I'm enjoying the food immensely, because it's very different than what I normally eat. More than that, it's made with many of the same ingredients with which I cook, but they are put together in ways that I never thought about before. So I'm having a lot of fun. Here in the hotel, we have a salad bar, too, that Ron would enjoy. It has a wide selection of very different salads, that, again, use many different ingredients that we just don't see in a salad bar.

So today, Grace and I came right back to the hotel after class because we were dead tired. We have been really pushing ourselves, and needed a day off to regroup, and to catch up. The Berlitz class is going well. When Ana took us out to lunch today, she let us order for ourselves. Manuel gave us a history lesson. He had prepared a lesson on body parts and clothing, but the history got in the way. I'm afraid that we derail our instructors a lot, but we are getting very useful information about the country, the culture, the people, and learning how to fend for ourselves in many different situations.

I sometimes think the instructors must wonder who are these crazy Americans, but they have been very supportive and excited about our stay in Portugal. One of the instructors, Susana, brought in several pages that she had printed off from the Internet, because she wanted to be sure that we had all the information about Sintra, and a couple of other palaces/castles that Grace is going to drag me off to.

We send our love, and we'll catch up with you later.

If This Is Thursday, This Must Be Madrid

We are in Madrid, and I am typing on a Spanish language keyboard. It is killing me! I met Grace at Passport Control early this morning, and the rest of the day has been a blur. We took a taxi to the hotel because we had missed our driver (it took too long for us to get through baggage claim because the flight Grace was on was about a half hour late).

After checking in, we took a walk up to Plaza Mayor, then on to the Royal Palace and the Cathedral. I find I am not taking a lot of pictures that I took two years ago. You can either be happy or sad about that :-) We ended back at the Plaza Mayor for lunch, and had a large tomato olive salad and a Spanish pizza with lots of ham. I still intend to make it to the Ham Museum. We walked right past it.

We came back to the hotel to recharge a bit, then headed off for a two and a half hour walk through of the Prado Art Museum. I have never seen so many crucifixion scenes in one place. We are talking about hundreds. Lots of little angels too, and one particularly baffling picture where a baby is dancing on about eight other baby heads. Reminds me of Galaxy Quest.

By this time it occurred to both of us that we smelled bad, and we were like the walking dead. We could hardly drag ourselves anywhere. We crawled back to the hotel, then took showers, and decided to go for an early evening walk. I headed straight for Starbucks, and we had some great ice drinks, and a wonderful conversation with an exchange student from Tennessee. We then walked up into the Chueca neighborhood where Ron, Brian, and I stayed two years ago. I really am suffering from recovered memories as we walk the streets of Madrid.

Stay tuned. We are planning on more great adventures, maybe an out of town experience.

On My Way out of Town

Everything is laid out on my bed to be placed in my two carry-ons, and I'll be flying out of here at 3 p.m. tomorrow afternoon. I had lunch with Michael (sushi at Moby Dick's), and Ron and I picked up some boxes at the liquor store so that we can pack the books in the basement (we're repainting because of a plumbing job).

This afternoon, I went over to see Tim, then we went to dinner at a nice Mexican restaurant in Rockville (excellent crab enchiladas), and headed off to John Marshall's Advanced club. I hadn't danced there for a month or so, and I really enjoyed seeing all of my old square dance friends. Finally, I got back here around 11 p.m., and Ron and I went over the cruise itinerary and papers. I had to answer some square dance club email, write in here, and I'm off to bed. I have a big day tomorrow!

Kefi

We have a newly opened Greek restaurant in our neighborhood, Kefi. Tim joined Ron and me tonight for dinner there.

We started off with Imam Baldi (eggplant with garlic and pine nuts) and Horta (dandelion greens) for appetizers. The small plates here are small, but very tasty. Ron and Tim had the Bronzini special (a very dead fish), and I had pork loin in mustard sauce. I really enjoyed what I had - I mean how could I go wrong? The pork was served on top of sliced fennel root, and set off with some sliced potatoes. Frankly, the dish looked white, but it tasted glamorous. I completely cleaned my plate, if you know what I mean.

No dinner is quite complete without dessert. We all had the Kataifi Ahkmek. I think we were swayed by the promise of shredded phyllo. I'm sure that's it. Sweet, custardy, and a good excuse to eat dessert. A woman from the table beside us engaged me in some envious conversation about dessert. Her husband said little.

And that was today's gastronomic adventure. I'm sure we'll be back.

Wheaton Thai

Last night, Tim and I ate at Nava Thai, a new eatery that has the best Pad Thai in the neighborhood (although Ruan Thai afficionados might disagree). In fact, the immediate neighborhood boasts four Thai establishments: Suporns, Dusit, Ruan Thai, and Nava Thai. I've eaten at all of them, and all have their devotees.

When we first moved to Wheaton, the only Thai restaurant was an establishment call Thai Hut, which had blazingly hot curries, as well as just about everything else on their menu. Dusit now occupies that place. I like Dusit. It has well prepared food, but it's not too adventurous; nice atmosphere and relatively inexpensive drinks. I've had some nice meals there.

Suporns came to the neighborhood about sixteen years ago. Early on, it was a favorite, and we would eat there once a week. But bad times descended on the kitchen, and the food was disappointing. The restaurant has survived, and the food has improved. I guess I'm still a little burned by my earlier experiences, but we've been back several times, and it continues to be a neighborhood fixture.

It's difficult to say who's Pad Thai is the best: Ruan Thai or Nava Thai. You should try both versions! Ruan Thai has also been in the neighborhood a long time. Besides the Pad Thai, check out their other noodle dishes. They are consistently wonderful. Their curries are also very good.

Nava Thai is the newest restaurant on the block, and its food is delightful. You have try the Pad Thai. When the menu indicates that food is spicy, you better believe it. The restaurant also offers Fanta pop imported from Thailand. The Carbon Footprint has come full circle.

And Wheaton has lots of other wonderful restaurants, too: Hollywood East, Los Matamoros, Paul Kee, Royal Mile Pub, Kefi, Ferdinand's, Los Chorros, El Boqueron, and more chicken joints than you can shake a stick at. I hope all the redevelopment around here doesn't drive these eateries away, because they are a lot of the charm of this town. You can't beat the eats in Wheaton.

A Birthday for Brian, Finally

I know that Brian has a birthday, because I see him periodically, and he's walking, talking, cute, all the evidence points to his existence. So I just assume he has a birthday, without paying a lot of attention to when. So last night the Boys went out to Heritage India to celebrate Brian's birthday, even though he acts like an Aries. I don't quibble over actual dates. I just want to eat food and celebrate my friend's birthday. Besides, all of the Boys' birthdays seem to get inconveniently bunched up in the March - April timeframe. Consider last night's celebration a "smoothing function" certainly after a couple of cocktails.

Brian, the Birthday Boy

So here is Brian looking like a deer in the headlights. Notice that Tim doesn't look like a deer in the headlights. Perhaps that is because Tim likes to have his picture taken. Or an alternative explanation might be that he saw me get out the camera and realized that his picture was going to be taken anyway. Brian may have mistaken the camera for an appetizer, and so was unprepared for the flash. I'll have to ask him about that.

Ron and I got to the restaurant first, so that I could have a drink. Perry is certain that I have a drinking problem. I am less certain, though I might be in denial. At any rate, Brian shortly showed up, followed by Tim, then Perry. I only drank a small portion of my second drink (yes, I know, it sounds like I'm binge drinking, doesn't it?), because Tim and Brian drank most of it. It serves them right, because it was a fruity drink that Carrie might have tossed back just before Mr. Big did her. Guys, it was a GIRLIE drink.

While the other guys walked to the table, I shambled behind because a) I was settling the bar bill (BTW, the appetizers were marvelous. Yummy small plates of Indian delights half price at the bar during happy hour. What an excellent idea!) b) I was shambling because of the toxic affects of impending alcohol poisoning. Perry kindly pointed out at the table that I was stoned. I was probably lighted a little bit, but entirely conscious throughout the meal, and contributed my own bon vivant devil-may-care commentary.

Tim ordered a nice white. Brian wanted his own portion of eggplant, and Perry followed suit with some lamb dish. I ventured into hell with Lamb Vindaloo, which could cause acute gastric distress if you have any problems with the volcanometer. But it was damn good! Tim ordered a pea and mushroom curry that was also spicy, and Ron followed up with Aloo Ghobi, although the restaurant billed it as "Cauliflower and Potatoes with turmeric." The food at Heritage India is very good. I'm pretty sure everybody enjoyed the spread. We all ended it with an assortment of desserts. I ate my gulam jamun with a deeply satisfying nostalgia, thinking aw too, this soon will end at a doughnut shop. Which it did. Nothin' like a Crispy Creme after an Indian dinner!

Happy Birthday Brian! You don't look a day over 30. Honest. You're still cute as a bug. Anytime you want to celebrate your birthday, give me a holler. Ron's birthday is next....