“Summertime and the livin’ is easy”

June 27th, 2009

Nina and the rest of us are enjoying the warm weather and all the benefits that come with it.

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Cool refreshments from The Grizzly Peak Brewing Company.  I like the Victor’s Gold, even though last time I had it, it tasted musty.  The bartender replaced it with another selection– without issue. 

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Ceviche and calamari (and martinis) from The Black Pearl.

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Coffee and some quiche from Cafe du Jour.  Nina likes to eat lemons (weird, eh?). 

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Nacho has learned Nina drops food– he loves her now.  He is always around her waiting for the next Cheerio to drop.

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Cati and I took in an outdoor concert while Nina mimmicks the way we use the phone.   She’s very busy and important, no? 

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We even found some accceptable sushi at Miki’s.  It’s good not great (We miss you Saso’s (Albany, NY)). 

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Ok, we’re off for some pool time (those of us who fit): 

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“Down, Down, Down– Red Knight Going Down!”

May 30th, 2009

Cati and I spent a few days (too few) on the West Coast visiting a couple-three friends and (my) family.  We flew into John Wayne Airport and visited Fullerton, Pasadena, Newport Beach, and Canoga Park.  The flights there and back were uneventful– that’s a good thing.  We stayed at a hotel directly across the street from Medieval Times.  The location of the memorable and HI-larious scene from “The Cable Guy.”  Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to go to Medieval Times on this trip. 

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Here are some more highlights from our short trip:

We had some good Mexican food one night, and some Thai food another (sorry, no photos taken). 

We stumbled upon a Lizarran in Fullerton too.  Lizarran is a Basque-style tapas franchise in Spain– who knew they were global.  Technically, they’re not tapas; they’re pinxos (pronounced peenchos).  We didn’t stay there for dinner; it was crowded and they had a flamenco dancer and band playing.  Flamenco is like kryptonite to Cati.  In my experience, Flamenco is to most Spaniards what barbershop quartets are to most Americans, or Mariachis to most Mexicans– campy, outdated entertainment.  We opted for sushi instead.
 
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We had sushi at Sushi Momo in Fullerton.  It was good, but a little heavy on the chilli sauce.  I’m pretty sure it was Sriracha– which I like, when used sparingly. 
 
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Crisp and cool cucmber-wrapped rolls that went great with a cold Japanese lager. 
 
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Home-made tamago– mmm.
 
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Driving in L.A. was pretty crazy.  I’ve lived in and driven in several states and a few countries, but I have to say, L.A. drivers are really a breed apart.  From my limited experience (3 days of driving), there are four things that make it so crazy to drive in L.A.:
- The speed– people drive really fast; 10-20 mph over limit seemed to be the average speed at all times.
- The crowds– it’s jammed; masses and masses of cars whizzing by no matter what time of day.
- All lanes are for passing– right and left really mean nothing.  People weave and zip by from all sides.
- The highways are tight with concrete walls and medians, and seldom a shoulder.  The exits come up quickly.
 
As startling as it was, I would probably adjust to it completely in about two weeks.  But it really made an impression during our short stay.
 
On our last day there, we had breakfast with our friends up in Pasadena, then we spent the rest of the day with my extended family.  Well, the emphasis on food extends beyond the nuclear family in which I grew up.  We had a great meal of grilled meats– chicken, pork-ribs, sausage, beef – you name it.  I guess that’s a benefit of family members who grew up in Argentina– they know grilling.  Also, my aunt made empanadas that give my own dear mom’s recipe some formidable competition (sorry ma, they were really good). 
 
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Cati and I take a distant second and third billing (respectively) to Nina’s appearance at any party. 
 
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Check out my aunt’s beautiful backyard flower-garden where Nina spent the afternoon exploring. 
 
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What a beautiful time!
 
Also, on an unrelated note, when we bought our new house here in Ann Arbor MI, we were presented with all the old paperwork from when the property was first purchased from the US government in 1825 to present.  Included in that stack is the record of when the property was sub-divided in 1930 by the then owners Mr. and Mrs. Ives.  Incidentally our neighborhood is called Ives Woods. 
 
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Included in this paperwork are the rules by which lot owners must abide when buying the property.
 
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Take a closer look at rule #1:
 
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In case you can’t read it in the photo, it says, “Said premises shall not be sold or leased to or occupied by any person other then [sic] of the Caucasian race.”*
 
Holy shocking racism, eh?  I mean, there it is in unambiguous black and white– sick and wrong, innit?   Eighty years ago was a very different world.  Rule #2 is ‘no livestock’– wow.   
 
* In addition to bigotry, apparently poor-punctuation and bad grammar were rampant as well. 

Insufficient Inspiration for a Title

May 17th, 2009

My mother was here visiting a few weeks back.  That allowed Cati and me to take advantage of the world’s greatest baby-sitting service (i.e. The Grandma) and go out on a date.  We are suckers for the classics, so we went with dinner and a movie.  We headed downtown to The State Theater and saw the movie Sin Nombre.  It was pretty good; violent as all-get-out, but well-made and thought-provoking (and a bit unsettling).  The violence in the film was very matter-of-fact, which is actually more disturbing than the over-the-top slow motion kind found in many Hollywood movies.  It reminded me of another fine Spanish-language movie—Maria Full of Grace.  Both movies get the viewer to feel concern for someone who, on the surface, is a “bad guy.”  I thought about both films for days after seeing them. 

Anyway– after the movie, we walked around downtown Ann Arbor on a bustling Friday night looking for an interesting place to have dinner.  As we strolled, we popped into several cool little shops and even an art gallery.  We guessed that the art gallery had had an exhibit opening that night.  We figured this because when we passed through, the scene was essentially devolving into a dance party– most likely fueled by all that free “opening-night” booze (nothing wrong with that at all).

We strolled around and finally landed at Vinology for dinner.  We sat at a table outside on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.  The setting, perfect weather, energy-of-the-evening, and service were all impeccable, but the food was just ok.  It wasn’t bad enough to ruin our first Nina-less date in a while, but every dish had an annoying flaw.  The presentation was nice (see photos), but looks ain’t everything.  It takes more than a pretty presentation, funky menu-description, and inflated price to impress us these days—it has to taste good too.  In fact, if it looks great but doesn’t deliver the flavor, it’s even worse—because there’s that subtle and lingering taste of unmet expectations.

We started with a pair of drinks; Cati had a blush cava and I had a Tullamore Dew (with an ice cube).  We ordered from the small-plates menu and had all four plates come out together.  We really had a great time but it was more-so in spite of the food rather than because of the food. 

Here are the dishes in no particular anything:

“Salad of grilled ramps, fiddlehead ferns, local greens, mushroom vinaigrette, fried egg”

 Grilled ramp salad

(Alex’s translation: “Boring-ass warm salad with an egg.”) 

“Blue cheese stuffed Medjool dates, house-made chorizo”

A bad date- the Medjool, that is.

I’ll compare this dish to the flight of Icarus.  Y’know– it aspired beyond its ability.  The mix of blue cheese, dates, and chorizo didn’t add up to anything beyond the mere sum of the parts—and what a puny sum it was.  I also learned I don’t like Medjool dates.  They are a saccharine, indistinguishable mush.  I far prefer semi-dry dates.  I can’t even articulate the difference; it’s like canned tomatoes versus tomatoes fresh from the garden.  It’s like Oasis versus The Beatles.  It’s like President G.W. Bush versus President Lincoln.  Oh, you get it.

“Creamy corn bisque, bacon and scallop croquette”

Creamed corn bisque

The soup tasted like puree of creamed corn (from a can).  The cloying sweetness of this dish made Nina’s baby-food taste complex in comparison (yeah, I try ‘em sometimes).  The croquette wasn’t half bad, but what value is a good Maraschino cherry on a mediocre sundae?

“Crispy veal sweetbreads, camembert crostini, Dijon caper dressing”

Crispy sweetbreads

This dish should have been called “Crispy fried crispy with a crispy fried crisp of crispy crisp crisp.”  That is to say—it tasted like fried.  ”Dijon caper dressing?”  Where?  Oh nevermind.   

Apathy and disappointment aren’t much of a motivator to write this post, but I hope you enjoyed reading it all the same.   

Well if Beck managed to write a poignant song about resignation and frustration, I can write a measly blog-post.

Click hear* to listen Beck’s “Lost Cause” for your daily downer.

P.S.- I don’t make a habit of depressing people who read my blog-posts.  So, if you need a pick-me-up, take a look at this video of Nina cracking up at Nacho doing tricks for treats.  I dare you to try not to laugh during this (especially at ~ 55 seconds):

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* Ha! Freudian typo.

All About Eve

April 25th, 2009

Cati and I found a nice place to eat out here in Ann Arbor.  It’s called Eve– and what a fine establishment it is. 

Quaint decor

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Just Picture It.

April 15th, 2009

Two days before we left Albany, NY, we had a “last supper” with some of our friends.  The party was at our old house which sold in 6 days - chin up, Albany.  Apparently, the economy is not so bad!   

Nina was shown pictures of her parents as children.  She realized she is going to have some rough years in front of her…ROUGH YEARS.  Look at her expression of deep concern and fear. 

Then, the following night, we had a send-off party at the bar at 74 State.  Much fun was had. 

Nina conked out in a warm pair of arms. 

The next morning, my navigator Nacho and I left Albany for good (along with a caravan of friends in other vehicles).  Cati and Nina flew separately. 

We stopped at Duff’s in Buffalo, NY for their lauded Buffalo wings. 

They were good.

I also had a beef on weck.  It was good, too.

Nina and Nacho explore one of the many empty rooms in the new house. 

Shortly after our move, we had to make a trip to Spain.  Nina sleeps on an escalator in Spain; Cati and la suegra hermosa lead the way.

Nina and Cati both sleep on the plane ride home from Spain (this photo makes me sleepy).

Cati and Nina find an Ikea to fill some of the empty rooms in our new home.  It looks like someone likes shopping already…

Oh yeah, and spoons aren’t just for eating anymore:

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“And the way I feel tonight…”

April 6th, 2009

***Update: Video added to bottom of post.***

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Things are great here in our new town– Ann Arbor, MI.  We don’t have many friends yet, nor do we know of any great hidden gems for dining out (we have found some restaurants we like, but I think everyone knows they are good).  We do have a Whole Foods and a Trader Joe’s within 2 miles of our home.  So don’t worry; we are eating well.  If you know this area and have a suggestion, we are listening. 

I feel negligent since it has been so long since my last post.  I have been crazy busy with the new job, the move, the baby, and other stuff too.  I have been to six states and three countries (Europe twice) in the last month.   Here are some observations I made while traveling recently:

- Getting stuck behind someone at airport security who does not travel often is torture.  You just know s/he is going to have to go through the metal detector four or five times, be asked to take off his/her shoes and put them on the belt. etc. etc.  On the upside however– I, for the first time in my life, was in line just ahead of the slowest, most confused elderly lady I have ever seen travel.  If I were behind her, my head would have exploded as I watched her do everything wrong; but being in front of her– heck, that was paradise.  I had time to leisurely collect my belongings, put my watch back on, put my shoes on slowly, put my belt on, return my laptop to my bag– it was great.  No one was behind me for ages…poor people behind her.

- Irrespective of state or country, everyone loves to fuss over a fat, rosy-cheeked Nina.

- Europeans are ruder in airports.  I think this comes from the vast array of languages and cultures in the European versus American airports.  No one has time to figure out in what language they should say ”excuse me,” or “thank you.”  Europeans just seem a bit terse and less interested in forming orderly lines than we Americans.  Cati and I have received so many glowering glances (for no reason) that we now jokingly call a scowl from a stranger “a Euro-smile.”  Ah well, I guess not everyone can be from a country that is never wrong and is loved the world over.  USA! USA! USA! ;)  Hello?

On a recent trip to FL, Cati and I went to Lowry Park Zoo and spotted the reclusive and often-suckling, Northeastern Titi Monkey.  Don’t believe me?  See for yourself:

Also, I totally forgot to add this video of Cati inadvertently reenacting a scene from her favorite Alfred Hitchcock movie during that same trip to the zoo:

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Male Pattern Blindness

March 3rd, 2009

To the best of my knowledge, my buddy LT and I created the word epiphanoid while we were in grad-school back in the day.*

What does epiphanoid mean, you ask?  Let’s start with the word epiphany.  Wikipedia defines epiphany as follows:

An epiphany is the sudden realization or comprehension of the (larger) essence or meaning of something. The term is used in either a philosophical or literal sense to signify that the claimant has “found the last piece of the puzzle and now sees the whole picture,” or has new information or experience, often insignificant by itself, that illuminates a deeper or numinous foundational frame of reference.

Now epiphanoid as defined by me and LT–

An epiphanoid is the sudden realization or comprehension of the (larger) essence or meaning of something while drunk.  But later, after you’ve sobered up, you realize that it really wasn’t that profound.

Add alcohol to two loquacious dorks and watch the epiphanoids fly!  We are still good friends and call one another to share our epiphanoids.  These days, our epiphanoids don’t much come from being drunk and chatty (but that helps).  Now they occur to us while driving or surfing (in his case) or whenever.  They often seem so stupid when we try to articulate them to one another, we still call ‘em epiphanoids (rather then legitimate epiphanies), just to be safe.

Rather than bore just LT with my latest one, I thought I would share the pain with all the good people of the Internets.

So here goes:  I think I know why men can’t ever seem to find anything around the house.  The epiphany epiphanoid hit me about two weeks ago.  Cati had lost one of her earrings while getting into the car.  I got out of the car to search the ground while she searched the intererior.  I asked her to show me the earring she hadn’t lost so I would know for what to search.  Then it hit me.  Why did I need to see the other earring first?  Couldn’t I recognize the missing– or any earring– laying in the dirt, grass, snow, or driveway irrespective of having seen its twin?  Of course I could.  So why did I ask to see the earring as though it were a prerequisite to finding the other?  Because that’s the way guys look for things.  We think about what we are searching for, we visualize it, and then compare what we see to the image we have created in our heads.  Kinda like The Terminator– we snap a shot, compare it, and then decide “match” or “no match” and continue hunting (or stop if it’s a “match”).

I’ll often call out to Cati, “Where’s the toothpaste?” only to have her roll her eyes and point right to the blue Aquafresh tube right in front of my face.  I was looking for the red Colgate tube we usually have, hence– “no match.”  I think we guys do this without even realizing that’s what we’re doing.  Sometimes we register a “no match” for far more subtle reasons, like “the shoes were upside down,” or “the size of the sour-cream bucket was smaller than I was expecting.”  We are lousy at predicting the image for which we are hunting (anyone would be), and unfortunately, that’s built into our “finding software,” so we stink at finding stuff too.  Another wife-annoying artifact of us menfolk employing the “match/no match” technique to find things is that after a few rounds of “no matches” we conclude “it’s not here” based on what we perceive as several negative (and convincing) data points.  For Cati (and women in general?), looking for something is a sensory experience, she uses her eyes and explores where she is looking– rather than play “match/no match.”  Looking for something should be and open-ended inquiry of one’s surroundings, not a visual “true or false” quiz.

I have tried to break myself of my male pattern blindness, and I have had some (limited) success (we never did find that earring, though).  Seriously, I correct myself now after a few “no matches,” and I try to ignore my tendency to rule “not here.”  I try to clear the preconceived image of what I am looking for from my mind and just plain LOOK.  (Real novel, eh?  Now you see why we call them epiphanoids.)

I would call my buddy LT for some validation, but I can’t find my phone.  [CATI?!?!!]

Welp, if you didn’t find any of that interesting, I got more.  Did you know that Leonard Cohen was Canadian?  ‘Cause he is.  I just learned that myself a few days ago.  I always figured he crash-landed from the planet Cool.  Who knew?

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That song still gets me– right here.  [pointing at the ol' ticker]  

Canadia, I did not know you had it like dat.  [still shaking head in disbelief]

Thanks for tolerating my ramblings, folks.

*LT probably came up with the word all by himself, but whatever– Lennon-McCartney/McCartney-Lennon– details.  Who cares?

A Blogger Send-off

February 9th, 2009

Our blogging buddies threw us a little good-bye party.  We were flattered and had a really nice time.  The food was extraordinary.  We went to CCK.  Here are some photos:

Cati checks out another diner’s plate while Nina looks at the camera:

Peking duck– the best we’ve ever had.

Fried Eggplant:

Mushrooms and greens (front and center) and flounder (top left) after a go-round the table. 

Pork belly and mustard greens– the 8th deadly sin is pork belly (mmm mmmm). 

We had a great time and feel lucky to have such swell pals.  Thanks, good people of the internet. 

Unrelated– you must try the Eggs Haizlip at Miss Albany Diner.  Grits, eggs, and sardines in mustard sauce.  If you are looking for a one-of-a-kind breakfast, this is it.  Or maybe their Ugly Eggs– scrambled eggs with mushrooms and anchovies.  These dishes are not necessarily representative of the food there.  They also have a french toast that my wife cannot resist (no fish-products included).  We are going to struggle to find a place like this after we move. 

I also went to an Albany Patroons game with some friends for the first time this weekend.  What a fun time. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, lovebirds.

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We’ll miss you, Albany.  We won’t forget how good you’ve been to us.

I am the eggplant!

January 27th, 2009

So, we decided to make some eggplant pizza.  Our version is a far cry from Mama Mia’s, but it’s pretty good. 

I salted and rinsed the eggplant slices prior to crisping them up in a little olive oil.  I probably didn’t have to fry it, but I didn’t want it too mushy, or worse, spongy.  I grated some mozzarella and added some dried herbs.  We cheated a lot– sauce in a can and pre-made pizza crust from the co-op. 

Before 12 min at 450F

After:

On another night, we had some great steaks from the co-op as well.  Nacho prays for a spontaneous plate-disintegration. 

On the grill.

Charred outside, rare inside; the way we likey.

Also, Nina has really taken a liking to white truffle and cream of asparagus soup served with a dollop of herb chevre, see:

I kid; it’s rice paste. 

For no reason, here is a picture from the Strunz and Farah concert we attended at the Egg with our friends T&A.  (Who doesn’t like a little T&A?  Set to music, no less!) 

Also, it’s true; Albany, our dear friend, we are moving away from you.  We won’t ever forget you though. 

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You Rang?

January 17th, 2009

So we went from this…

to this…

…in one short plane ride.  No one likes it except Nacho.

When the mercury drops, Cati and I enjoy few things more than some core-warming soup.  Man, there is just something downright cozy about a bowl of steamy broth on a cold day.  We found two places here in Albany that scratch that itch quite well– CCK Chinese and Arirang Japanese, Korean, and Thai; both on Central Ave. 

CCK, or “if if what” as my wife calls it (get it? she’s Spanish– Ha, I kill me sometimes) is the real deal.  Great Chinese food is their forte, not English.  Check out the specials posted above the cash register; they are only in Chinese. 

Cati and I had some wonton soup, dumplings, fried tofu, and the braised yee mein with beef.  Cati’s favorite dish is the Buddha delight, but they were all out on our last visit. 

Celinabean has a far-superior post on this place here.

Arirang is a real find too.  I know that I have derided multi-ethnicity restaurants as being sub-par jacks-of-all-trades-masters-of-none, but we only stick to the Korean food when we go.  As for sushi, my palate is spoken for, thank you very much, and why would I want Koreans to make Thai food for me?  That’s like having a Greek chef make haggis– no thanks.  Maybe I’m guilty of restaurant racial-profiling, but I like the chefs that prepare my food to be of the nationality of the cuisine in which they specialize (or at least trained there for YEARS).  Even then, it’s still no guarantee that the food will be any good.  It’s just a stereotyping tool I use to save time.  [wink]  Am I just a food-bigot or does anyone agree with me on this one?  Anyone?  [crickets chirping]

I digress, back to Arirang.  The (Korean) food there is quite good.  Have a look at the dumpling soup and seafood stew Cati and I had on our last visit.  The soups were so warm and flavorful we were reeling.  Plus my soup was so spicy, I was super content.  And who doesn’t love those little Korean plates of kim chee, potatoes, and fish cake…mmmm.  I have to be quicker with the camera if I want to get photos of the appetizers.  The dumplings lasted for 0.43 seconds. 

I had their tasty bibimbap on a previous visit.

Celinabean scooped me on this place too (see here)…and naturally, she did a better job.  “Drats, foiled again!”

Here’s an enjoyable Stones’ video circa 1978 (you didn’t post this, Celina– so there!!):

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Look, even Nina likes the video…”yep!”