Not yet named travel entry: Staycation.

I was supposed to go to Boston this April to watch my cousin run the Boston Marathon. Yet, due to my Uncle’s wedding the group who were going to go decide to put all of our resources into the California trip.  Luckily, my cousin made good time and qualified for next year’s Boston Marathon with his time this year.

North Portal façade

Instead of returning my vacation days back to my pool, I decided to keep them and be a tourist in my own town.   I took a tour of Philadelphia City Hall, one of the many fascinating points of interest in my hometown that I never visited.  The $10 tour, which is volunteer-led, took me and the group around and throughout the building on a two hour tour including the statuary, architectural elements, Mayor’s reception room, tower, Supreme Court chambers and a six-person elevator ride to the observation platform immediately below the William Penn statue.

One of the four corners of the Earth capitals

 My volunteer, Mike, moved to Philadelphia from Trenton, NJ, after retirement.  Loving the city, he decided to find a meaningful way to volunteer during the day and is a well-versed docent.  I’ll admit the facts and figures that he shared were overwhelming, so I’ll share with you those that stuck with me.

The original chandelier in the Mayor's Reception Room.

My Top Ten Takeaways:

• Philadelphia City Hall is the nation’s largest municipal building (548 feet tall).
• The clock faces are larger than Westminster’s Clock Tower.
• Its architectural style is French Second Empire.
• There are over 250 relief and freestanding sculptures, all created by Alexander Milne Calder, including William Penn at the top.
• The four corners of the world is a dominant theme of the building; there are four pediments representing such through the four races of Philadelphia’s inhabitants of the city: African, Asian, European and Native American and the column capitals supporting the tower echo this motif. 

Supreme Court Chamber

• The William Penn statue is the tallest atop any building in the world.
• Construction of City Hall started 1871 and lasted thirty years; by its completion in 1901, the style wasn’t en vogue anymore, and the citizens of Philadelphia disliked it and wanted to raze it.
• The clocks were visible from a great distance and were so accurate that people used the clocks to set their watches and clocks; each evening at 8:57 pm, the clock tower light were turned off to give people three minutes to set their watches before the lights went on again at 9:00pm.
• The Supreme Court of Pennsylvania is a traveling court – meaning it meets in additional cities outside of the Capital; for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania the Court meets in Harrisburg, Pittsburgh and Philadelphia.
• The only word incorporated into the façade of the building is Justice, above the Moses Keystone of the South Portal entrance.

Looking up at William Penn from the observation deck

After the tour, I headed to nearby Reading Terminal and got some lunch.  My day in the city – my own city – was a success.  I recommend to anyone to go out and be a tourist in your own town.

The view South on Broad Street.

For additional pictures of Philadelphia City Hall, visit my facebook album: City Hall, Philadelphia, PA, April 2011.

Freeform Forum: Salads.

I’m watching what I’m eating and working out in order to get ready for a trip to Ireland. I’m using LoseIt.com to help me monitor what I eat and improve my eating habits. Since it’s summer, I hate cooking, so I usually do a lot of salads since vegetables are plentiful.

A fresh summer salad

I’m bringing this all up because I have a peculiar rule of thumb for making a salad.  Loosely said, I won’t eat a salad unless it has three ingredients.  That’s how I define a salad compared to Merriam -Webster’s definition:

Any of various usually cold dishes: as a: raw greens (as lettuce) often combined with other vegetables and toppings and served especially with dressing b: small pieces of food (as pasta, meat, fruit, or vegetables) usually mixed with a dressing (as mayonnaise) or set in gelatin.

However, I’m specific.  Three different greens (say romaine, arugula and spinach) mixed together, does not a salad make.  Forgetting the whole genre of salads mixed with a dressing or set in gelatin, I wondered what the standard for a salad is.  I went to my trusty web-resource, Wikipedia, and looked up salad.  Wow!

A green salad with crunchy onions and carrots

According to the Wikipedia article on salad, a salad can be served at any time in a meal as an appetizer, a side salad, a main course salad, a palate-cleansing salad or a dessert salad. I had never thought of a palate-cleansing salad before, but, then maybe that’s the “European” thing.  You know, when you have a salad after an entrée and you say, “That it’s the way they do it in Europe,” to save face from forgetting that you made a salad to have at the beginning of dinner.

Then there are the types of salad: green, vegetable, bound, main course, fruit and dessert.  Green, vegetable and fruit are pretty obvious – named for their components.  A Main course salad is usually greens plus a protein.  This is one of my favorite go to meals.  Nothing as simple and healthful as adding a good serving of protein to a salad.  Love many different options, like nuts, cheese, tuna, leftover chicken or leftover steak.  Sometimes on a weight-training day, I'll add two (steak and blue cheese, chicken and almonds, cheddar and sunflower seeds) to increase my protein.

Then there were the two that I didn't really consider.  It took me a while to get bound, but they are like macaroni, pasta and potato salads, bound by mayonnaise, for example.  The dessert salads, I never thought of them.

A good old-fashioned Midwestern Cookie Salad

There’s a whole world of dessert salad – out there to blow everyone’s good eating habits.  Per Wikipedia, “dessert salads rarely include leafy greens and are often sweet. Common variants are made with gelatin or whipped cream (oftentimes with the brand products Jell-O and / or Cool Whip.)” I thought that it was a little cheeky of the writer to tell me that dessert salads are often sweet. 

According to the article the Midwest has the lion’s share of dessert salads, including jello salad, pistachio salad, ambrosia, snickers salad, glorified rice and cookie salad. I looked them all up and they seem more like no-bake puddings than salads, but many folks would consider them as such.  I just call them rich.

A colorful and healthful salad.

At the end of my culinary investigation when I think of a salad, I think of a mixture of at least three different vegetables and/or fruit, where a combination of greens is considered as only one of the components. If I want to make it an entree, then I add a good serving ot two of protein. Boring, maybe, but the research was fun.  In the long term, this oddball peculiarity for me works out, since I end up eating three of my suggested five to seven daily servings of fruits and vegetables in one sitting.

Images courtesy of nokhoog_buchachon / FreeDigitalPhotos.net, Piyachok Thawornmat / FreeDigitalPhotos.net, Wikipedia and scottchan / FreeDigitalPhotos.net, respectively.

myPics: A Study in Variation - Greece

I would say that an iconic image of Greece is the image of the two blue domed churches in Oia on Santorini. When I was on Mykonos, this church caught my eye and it left such an impact on me that I made it my Holiday card for 2010. (Don't worry if you didn't get one, I didn't send them out.)

The variation of red instead of the stereotypical blue resonated with me as a wonderful new bend on my own feelings toward Greece. From this trip, my pics from Mykonos are the ones that say Greece to me. I hope to share more on the Thursdays that follow. 

Not yet named food entry: On a Mission for ice cream

I need to give a shout out to my friend, Denise, who told me about her favorite ice cream place in the Mission over three years ago.

Like every red-blooded American, I love ice cream.  I’ve been known even to down a pint for dinner – not necessarily healthy, but damn right satisfying.  So when my friend, Denise, moved back into the area, she made sure that I knew of Humphry Slocombe for I would be ready to visit on my next trip to San Francisco.

“You need to try the olive oil ice cream, and if they have it, the foie gras,” she mused.

“Really, Foie gras? Sounds rich.”

“Oh, it is.”

A sample of Humphry Slocombe's twitter feed - usually menu announcements 

It’s not accurate or fair to say that Humphry Slocombe makes odd or weird flavors of ice cream.  There’s thought and whimsy in these flavor profiles.  Some of the flavors focus on rich savories in a sweet base, like foie gras, prosciutto or even balsamic caramel.  Others pair heat with cool dairy, like peanut butter curry or strawberry candied jalapeño. Yet others just sound fun, like Harvey Milk & honey or the Harry Potter-inspired Butterbeer.  People appreciate complex favors in their desserts.

Every time I return to San Francisco, getting ice cream from Humphry Slocombe is on the short list of things to do.  Outside of visiting with my friends and getting my beloved burrito, it’s really the only other mandatory to-do list item.  It’s always a highlight on my trip.

I tend to stay in the Financial District or SoMa. When I get the craving for Humphry Slocombe, I walk to my closest BART station, Powell or Montgomery Street, and head down to 24th Street Mission.  The trip, though about 5 minutes, feels like an eternity.

I take the escalator to the surface at the northeast corner of 24th and Mission and bask in the life on the street.  The McDonalds on the southeast corner is plastered with Spanish decals promoting the latest fast food treat and I check my El Farolito to see if there is a line or not.  Latinos and hipsters cross the street and barely notice that I’m a tourist.  Eastward, I head toward Harrison, listening to my iPhone set on repeat.  The neighborhood is vibrant and the appropriate background for loud pop music.

Eastward on 24th.

A 48 Quintara-24th Street passes and I wax nostalgic on my first time traveling to San Francisco as an adult. Over ten years ago, I had boarded the 48 bus at Caltrain’s 22nd Street Station a few miles away to make the trip into the Mission to stay with my friend, Denise.  The area has changed but it has retained its soul. The Bay View Bank building is now the US Bank building, but it’s still an out-of-place, 10 story building, standing out like a sore thumb from the busy foot traffic on Mission. 24th street is lined with bodegas, dives, clothing outlets, an Irish bar, taquerías, a laundromat, cafés, pawn shops and colorful Mexican themed murals.  I’m so engrossed in taking the atmosphere in that I barely notice the simple blue and white sign, the harbinger of Harrison Street and ice cream to come.

The very first time I went to Humphry Slocombe, there was no line.  I walked in and studied the menu.  I knew that I could ask for samples, but I was going to dive in, head first. Unfortunately, there was no Foie Gras on the menu, but there was the McEvoy Olive Oil.  Wanting another flavor, I honed in on Secret Breakfast, not really knowing what its secret was.

The Line at Humphry Slocombe

McEvoy Olive Oil tasted like chilled, thickened cake batter with very strong floral notes.  The richness of this ice cream was not lost on me.  I worked through the flavor slowly to savor dense, slick sweetness of the oil, fortified by the olive’s perfume.  Then, I hit the Secret Breakfast.  The bourbon taste is strong and, being one of my favorite liquors, it was welcome surprise.  In fact, I was surprised that I didn’t smell any of the bourbon before tasting it. It is that prevalent. The cream and sugar bring out the rich vanilla and burnt caramel notes in the liquor and the crunch of the cornflakes always brought me back to the moment after drifting off in a bourbon daydream.

It was love at first taste and I continue to love the dairy chemistry at Humphry Slocombe. I do try to have a new flavor or two when I return, but Secret Breakfast is a difficult love to avoid.  Some of the more memorable flavors I have tried are:

• Peanut Butter Curry. The rich taste of peanut butter with the handful of different heats from the complexity and the spice of curry.
• Balsamic Caramel: The tart, astringent, viscous and bold taste of balsamic vinegar with the notes of burnt sugar and salt of gooey caramel.
• "Oh Hell Yes": The tart and rich flavor of cream cheese ice cream mixed with strawberry and blueberry preserves and decadently large chunks of shortbread pie crust.
• Salt and Pepper: (I cheat on Secret Breakfast with Salt and Pepper.) This flavor is about dichotomy, playing with our traditional tabletop condiments. The crunchy and salty bits of sea salt contrast with a smooth, sweet base.  It makes me want to mix salt and sugar together and put in the salt shaker. At the same time, I can’t help but enjoy the different fires from peppercorns and red pepper that balance the cool temperature of this ice cream.

I tell my friends, co-workers, people on the street who mention that they plan to go to San Francisco. I’ve taken city residents, family members and boyfriends to Humphry Slocombe because the ice cream is so good and there’s so much thought put into it. In 2010, I was thrilled since I was going to San Francisco twice.  After I went in May with my cousin, I chatted up Humphry Slocombe with my good travel companion who was going to be traveling with me to San Francisco in August.

A tweeted menu pic.

About a month before we headed out, we were planning some of our vacation ideas via e-mail when he started sending me links of San Francisco places.

“By the way, is this your ice cream shop in San Francisco?” he asked, including the link to an article.

“Why, yes, it is,” I e-mailed back in quick fire secession.

“It made the NY Times and it sounds as wonderful as you say it is.”

Humphry Slocombe is located at 2790 Harrison Street, San Francisco, CA.

The image, A tweeted menu pic, courtesy of @humphryslocombe via twitpic.

Wish List: Philly Bookclub’s European Vacation.

Two Saturdays ago, we had our monthly meeting of Bookclub.  The book was The Splendor of Silence by Indu Sundaresan.  It was a rich tale about two cultures clashing, two people meeting and the lifetime they shared in four days and its repercussions.  So our theme was Indian food and the specialty drink was a gimlet. (There were vodka gimlets available for those who didn’t want gin.)

After we thoroughly talked about the book, someone in the group mentioned going on vacation en masse in Europe.  This idea expounds on our proposed weekend in Washington, DC, when we read Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol.   We would read the book for bookclub and instead of meeting we would spend a day in DC at some of the sites in the book chatting about the novel – a fun idea.

The Capitol Rotunda, Washington, DC

If going to DC would be a fun idea, going to Europe would be fantastic. At length, we discussed in detail whether or not we all could travel with each other.  We came to the conclusion that we could and, now, the plan is to find a villa.  We settled on renting in August in the Mediterranean areas of Europe: Barcelona, Italy, Grecian Islands, etc.

Casa Bacardi near Barcelona

Except for Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, we couldn’t name another book that we read which took place in Mediterranean Europe.  Therefore, we will focus area on locating something in Catalonia, yet our final decision will be based on what we can afford as a group.  We are staying open to the idea that we could end up in Greece, the Dalmatian coast, Bari or elsewhere for that matter.  If we go somewhere else than Barcelona, we have about a full year to pick a book or two to read that’s set in the area where we’ll holiday.

View from the Villa Aris on Koufoni, Greece

The vacation, however, will be simple.  We will get a villa for a week and we will use that as our headquarters for the stay.  We will take turns cooking meals from the local meats, eggs and produce and enjoy the nights drinking local wine.  For two or three days, we will plan some side trips from the villa based on our bookclub reads.  Outside of our book-themed day trips and evening meals, we will be flexible to do anything that we want or to do nothing else at all. Perhaps we take a day-trip to a neighboring county or we spend the days lounge in the villa reading our future bookclub novels.  Once we’re in Europe, we’re all free to stay longer and create our own adventures, but we are looking forward to a fun, literary vacation on the continent.

Images courtesy of Wikipedia (Capitol Rotunda), RentVillas.com (Casa Bacardi) and HomeAway (Villa Aris). 

Not yet named travel entry: Mission San Diego de Alcalá

What is now the city of San Diego started out as Juan Rodríguez Cabrillo’s San Miguel, named when he sailed into San Diego Bay on September 28, 1542. The Portuguese explorer claimed the land for Spain, but Spain ignored the area for sixty years and all proof of Cabrillo’s claim had weathered away. Sebastián Vizcaíno made landfall in San Diego Bay as well, and he renamed the area after San Diego de Alcalá on November 10, 1602.

It would be another 167 years before the Spanish returned to San Diego. (Sounds like the Spanish modus operandi.) During the entire Spanish conquistador period, Spain had been establishing missions to convert the natives in New Spain to Catholicism in order to colonize the lands. Yet, it took the movements of Russia eyeing up the western coast of North America with Peter I the Great asking Vitus Bering to command an expedition of the Kamchatka peninsula and the subsequent discovery of additional lands east of Siberia across the now eponymously-named Bering Strait.

Detail from the Stations of the Cross Mosaic

To secure Spain's claim to the entire Pacific Coast by right of discovery, King Philip V felt missions were necessary in Alta California. In 1769 Junípero Serra led an expedition from Baja California to found the mission at San Diego and presidio at Monterey.  Both the Presidio and the Mission of San Diego became the first European settlement in what is now the state of California.  

The site of the Presidio and the original Mission is in what is now San Diego’s Presidio Park.  No historical structures remain in Presidio Park today, but a fenced-off area encloses the foundations of the chapel, walls, and other historical sites. Mission moved about five miles upriver at its current location in 1773.  The Presidio was gradually abandoned since need for military protection disappeared and people settled in Old Town at the foot of the hill from the Presidio. It lay in ruins by 1835.

The flower garden

If San Diego is the birthplace of California, then Junípero Serra is California’s father. Father Serra was a Majorcan Franciscan friar who founded the mission chain in Alta California, including Mission San Buenaventura, Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa, and perhaps the most famous of them all Mission San Francisco de Asís (Mission Dolores). During his lifetime, he was witness to the American Revolutionary War and he notably took up a collection from his mission parishes throughout California. The total money collected amounted to roughly $137 and it was sent to General George Washington.

My aunt and uncle has asked someone in one of the stores about the Mission to find out when it might close. We rushed to the Mission from our visit to Old Town San Diego since the Church was only open until 5:00pm. We followed the signs on the Kumeyaay Freeway to the exit and after some creative navigation found ourselves in front of an unassuming building.  While it had the traditional Spanish architecture, it was a smaller façade than I had anticipated.  

The fountain

When we entered into the Mission grounds and I saw the large patio with a fountain, I realized the scope of this property. Like many of the Missions, the plaza was surrounded by solid and massive walls that were broad and undecorated.  I wondered around and found the arched corridors that lead to the school area and a statuary garden.

Pieta

 I joined my family in the flower garden and moved into the church. After the move to the current location, the Mission struggled against native attacks and was destroyed in 1775 by fire.  Though it was one of the poorer Missions in the system, Blessed Father Serra returned to oversee the rebuilding and brought prosperity back to the area.  However, with Mexican Independence and U.S. acquisition, the Mission was neglected.  Finally, in 1931, the Church was restored to its current look.  Today it is an active Catholic Parish in the Diocese of San Diego.  

To honor the historic role that this first Mission held in the history of California and the US, Pope Paul VI designated Mission San Diego de Alcalá as a Minor Basilica in 1976, which includes in its privileges granted, the permit to display a tintinnabulum  and an umbraculum.

The altar of the church - the umbraculum is the red and yellow piece hanging on the left.

I appreciate when these original historic sites are able to be used for their original purpose.  The US doesn’t have the length of history that the UK, France or China have, but we do have a collective breadth of history. I’m proud when we do preserve our history for future generation to use and to value. When we partake in our over two century old history, we continue to define ourselves as Americans.

My cousin and I

Freeform Forum: ...I just hate travelers: Getting Out of Your Seat

When I finally got into Union Station, I checked in, tweeting that I don’t mind traveling; I just hate travelers.

I love to travel and its twofold journey: the process of getting to a destination and the exploration of that destination.  This love of the trek helps to explains why I understand Songlines.  However, travelers, on the other hand, can really tick me off.

When I travel, I am mindful of my actions and that my actions can affect others.  As common travelers, we’re packed into tight planes and crowded train platforms. We’re driving up and down the same congested freeways. We’re waiting in line for the same outcome. 

I wanted to take a few moments to vent about the lack of travel etiquette and remind my follow travelers to make the trip enjoyable for all, including your neighbors.  I wish that the in-flight magazines and Arrive: The Magazine for Northeast Business Travelers (Amtrak’s magazine) would explicitly have an etiquette column to remind travelers how to behave.

Travel etiquette: When getting up out of your seat on a train or a plane, do not use the seatback in front of you to support your weight. Push yourself out of your seat by supporting yourself on the armrest of your own seat.

This is one of my biggest pet peeves of all.  While it may be one of human’s natural instincts to reach out immediately in front of oneself to lift one out of a seat on a plane or train, this behavior must stop.

It is irksome to be reading a riveting passage in book, lip syncing to the latest pop hit, playing the last level of Angry Birds or drifting off into a nap and to have your seatback pulled away from your torso and bringing you down with it.

This last trip to DC on Amtrak really got my ire up. I was hoping to get on the quiet car to zone out.  I noticed that there were plenty of available seats there.  I took one, settled in and felt that I was in heaven.  Two hours of listening to my iPhone, not worrying about people talking on the phone or too loud, would deliver me in Washington ready and energized for my event. 

I sat in front of a recently retired couple, who I discerned to the best of my ability were traveling down to Richmond from outside of New York. They looked very happy for their new chapter in life and enjoying their ride so far.  However, this couple got up seven times during the two hour trip and always used my seatback to leverage themselves out of the seat.  Perhaps I should have addressed them after the third time.  But who wants to start a conflict on the quiet car, isn’t they why we’re all there - to avoid talking? Needless to say, my solace was gone and made me quite the crankpants to write this entry. 

I watched their behavior and they both looked fit and active to be able to push themselves up out of their seats.  They walked around the train very steadily during the train's more rocky moments.  I think they should have known better, too. 

I’m asking my fellow travelers to be aware: everything that you do while traveling can and will affect others. If you can't be aware, I'll tell you what you're doing wrong and how to improve.

myPics: White Mosque - Blue Sky

Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque, Abu Dhabi, UAE

Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque is located in Abu Dhabi, and its construction was initiated by the late President of the United Arab Emirates, His Highness Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan. Thought of as the father of the UAE, he has been laid to rest in a tomb located on the grounds. While the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque Center encourages visitors to take pictures of the grounds, photography of the tomb is not permitted.

I used this picture as the wallpaper on my iPhone for my locked screen, and the phone wonderfully cropped to accentuate the minaret in the archway. 

Finally, the mosque has many noteworthy architectural and design features.

• The carpet in the main prayer hall is the world's largest carpet.
• There are seven chandeliers which incorporate millions of Swarovski crystals, and the chandelier in the main prayer hall is the largest known chandelier inside a mosque.
• The mosque is lit at night to reflect the phases of the moon: the lights dim from a bright light blue to its darkest shade when starting at the full moon to the new moon.
• The marble tile mosaic of the courtyard with its floral design, measures about 180,000 sq. ft., making it the largest in the world, and can accommodate about 30,000 worshipers. Additionally, the white marble remains cool to the touch even during the heat of the afternoon.

Not yet named food entry: Green Chili Stew (Austin)

In Austin, there is a great restaurant that is its own small chain, Chuy’s.  To comment on their food and restaurant philosophy, I need to phrase it in the company’s own words, “if you’ve seen one Chuy’s, you’ve seen one Chuy’s.”  I’ve seen only one Chuy’s, the first one on Barton Spring Road in Austin.  It’s been love at first order. 

I was led to this Chuy’s by the “big as yo’ face” burrito 5 years this upcoming February when my travel companion wanted to show off a Tex-Mex burrito since I champion a Mission-style burrito as the world’s best. (Still I religiously go to El Farolito at 2779 Mission Street whenever I visit San Francisco).  The line was long in the restaurant – about a 45 minute wait – and we were starving from driving up from San Antonio.  We perused the menu to come up with our order: two burritos and some chips and salsa.

I thought about it.  If the burrito was truly as big as yo’ face, that was going to be a lot of burrito for two of us, even if we were grown men.  I talked us down from the ledge, but my friend saw the green chili stew and thought that it might be worth a shot.  It was February in Texas, so not too warm, and stew sounded good.  How bad could chicken and hot peppers in a stew be?

Before we found out, we waited at the bar for our order.  The place is like a 50’s diner with ADD.  Painted in kitschy aqua, pink and teal, I noticed all the character in this restaurant.  In the main bar, there is a jungle of wooden fish in a combination of primary and tropic colors hanging from the ceiling.  Dotted throughout are pieces of Elvis paraphernalia; over the cashier’s podium, there is the galley of t-shirts for sale. 

What caught attention was the wall of pictures as you entered – people posing in their Chuy’s shirts in front of landmarks from the four corners of the globe.  I remember Chuy’s at the Salt Lake City 2002 Olympics, in front of the Pyramids in Egypt, with the Sydney Opera House, at the Grand Canyon, and more. Obliviously there is some reason for the cult of Chuy’s.

Our order was ready and since it took longer than the hostess had thought, they threw in some hot appetizer.  Making sure we had all the utensils and napkins we needed, we hurried back to the hotel to eat.  We snacked on the chips en route, and set up a place to eat in our room.  We dove into the burrito, and it was ok.  It wasn’t bad at all, but it didn’t wow me.  Again, Mission-style burritos are the gold standard.  The appetizer was fine.  We were ready to say that Chuy’s wasn’t a bad choice but it’s just Tex-Mex, we tried the green chili stew.

Remember, “how bad could chicken and hot peppers in a stew be?” The stew was far from bad; it was incredible.  The chicken was tender and moist.  The carrots and potatoes were cooked to the point of easily giving way when bitten and releasing a sweet flavor or a good starchy sensation.  The broth of the stew was fragrant with sharp garlic and onion, verdant cilantro and the happy stinging heat of peppers.  We fought over the stew. Simply, it was that good. 

While it was the lure of burritos that brought me to Chuy’s, it’s the green chili stew that brings me back. The green chili stew with its famous hatch peppers, only grown in Hatch, NM, made me jump feet first into the cult of Chuy’s. Not all of the Chuy’s have this green chili stew, I understand that the San Antonio ones don’t make it. 

The Cult of Chuy's - Wearing a Chuy's T-shirt in a desert hookah lounge in Dubai, UAE

My friend and I searched the internet for a recipe since we were profoundly in awe of it. Through the years, we have worked on our recipes separately to come up with the right alchemy to recreate the stew that we tried that February.  We swap our notes and I am pleased to say that we have a great recipe (that’s not for sharing, sorry!) 

I’ve been back over the years, and I believe that the recipe has changed since my first experience.  I think that it’s a matter of who’s making it at the restaurant, personal touches that made more recent stews differ from that first one.  Touches like grilling chicken and adding it to the stew immediately before serving versus slow cooking the chicken in the stew from the beginning.  Though the stew is different than I first remember it, it is still my happy comfort food for when I’m in Austin.

Chuy's Restaurant is located at 1728 Barton Springs Road, Austin, TX.

Wish List: An August Weekend.

I’m looking to sandwich a weekend jaunt during August between my big California family and friends vacation and my big Ireland vacation with my folks.  My gut is to schedule around the usual Bookclub weekend, the third weekend of the month, since we take a break from Bookclub in August.  I’m looking to go somewhere a short flight away that I haven’t been to and just spend a weekend there, solo, taking in the culture, sites and some social life. 

Charming Hamilton, Bermuda

The quandary is I can’t find an affordable location at this time in the game.  Flights to Montréal and Ottawa are hovering around $450 for the weekend, and the affordable flights are to places I’ve been before like Raleigh and Pittsburgh.  There are cheap flights to Bermuda coming up, but they will be during my Ireland trip.  I’m looking for a place that doesn’t need a car too much and the airport’s an affordable taxi ride away (or accessible via public transportation).  I even looked into Las Vegas, because who in her or her right mind would want to be in a desert in the summer? But, those packages aren’t affordable for the solo traveler. 

The exciting Strip - Las Vegas, NV

Do you have any ideas on a fun locale? 

(The photos of Bermuda and Las Vegas are courtesy of TripAdvisor.)

Not yet named travel entry: The Difference Between Texian and Texan.

One of the reasons I travel is my always present desire to learn.  To the end, history has always been a topic of interest for me.  I will do the historic tours of locations and places. I benefit from learning the ways that politics, social conditions and reality-changing events influence the people in their locales. While history tends to be written by the victors, the places can still speak on the events that have happened there.

Only in the last few years I have been exposed to Texas, and my first visit to the state was accidentally as I missed a connection at IAH for my trip to Trinidad and Tobago for my cousin’s wedding. Since that overnight in 2006, I have returned to Texas nearly 10 times, including a recent unexpected overnight in IAH, yet again. (That just happened during my latest trip to a family wedding – the above-mentioned cousin’s father’s, a.k.a. my uncle’s wedding.)

A co-worker and I had to take a drive from Houston and to Dallas between our two events in Texas.  Though the time between those two cities is around four hours, I had hoped to make a pit stop that would add another hour to the drive.  Open to adventure, my colleague was amenable. 

From Houston, we headed to the Washington-on-the-Brazos State Historic Site via on US 290. From there, we took two different Texas State Routes until we made a left onto FM (Farm to Market) Road 1155.  We passed simple wooden fences and saw a few sturdy homes, shortly after we saw a street sign indicating that we were entering Washington.  Beyond the green street sign, there was a plain single story brick post office on the right and ahead of us was a market – small road-side place for groceries and to get a bite to eat.  At the market, FM Road 1155 came to a T-intersection and headed to the right while to the left the road was blocked off.   Still lined with modest homes and a few yards, the road continued due west and I saw the stone sign on the left showing the entrance to the Washington-on-the-Brazos State Historic Site.

The woodsy and fresh smell of the cedar that I find to be scent of Texas was a light perfume in the air. Though it was mid-May, the day felt like the Fourth of July in Philadelphia: hot and humid.  An appropriate though since we arrived at the Birthplace of Texas, Washington-on-the-Brazos.

I remember the Alamo and knew the names of James Bowie, David Crockett and William B. Travis. Yet, I didn’t know how this was a part of American history; I categorized it into bullets:  Battle of the Alamo, Texas Republic and the Annexation of Texas, without any context to connect them. This visit helped shed light on the Texas Revolution and the history of the US. 

Texas has its roots in its Spanish claim in 1519. Over 160 years later, navigational errors for a French exploration team lead them to Texas and to make a short-lived claim.  After five years of disease and hardship lead the French to failure, Spanish expeditions located the abandoned French fort and reclaim Texas and Texas remains a part of New Spain for over 130 year.  Yet as a part of New Spain, Texas is thrust into independence as a Mexican state, when on September 16, 1810, Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, a Mexican priest, declared independence from the Spanish crown for the grievances of the Mexican-born Spanish and native groups against Spain during its war with Napoléon. (Note, this is Mexican Independence Day and has nothing to do with Cinco de Mayo.)  The Mexican War for Independence ended in 1821 with the signing of the Treaty of Córdova.

The war against Spain left the Mexico bankrupt.  In 1824, Mexico adopted a new constitution in which it established the state of Coahuila y Tejas, incorporating most of the present-day state of Texas within borders. The area of Tejas was very sparsely populated and settlers faced Apache and Comanche raids.  Without any finances to support a military, Mexico encouraged settlers to create their own militias and enacted liberal immigration policies for the state in hopes that an influx of settlers could control the Indian raids. Stephen Austin was the first U.S. citizen to get a land grant, two years prior, to settle Coahuila y Tejas, near the mouth of the Brazos River, and soon after the Mexico adopts its new constitution the Old Three Hundred, the first sizable group of U.S. immigrants, settle in Tejas.

By 1830, the U.S.-born settlers, Texians, outnumbered the Mexican-born in the area of Tejas, and the Mexican President Bustamante implemented several measures to curb this growth.  He prohibited further immigration from the United States to Tejas explicitly.  Also, laws were changed to remove the tax-exemption for immigrants and to increase tariffs on U.S. good coming into Mexico. Lastly, Mexico had a federal prohibition against slavery and all Texian settlers were ordered to comply.

According to the Texas Historical Commission Historical Marker at the sight:

In 1835, as political differences with Mexico led toward war, the General Council (the insurgent Texas government) met in [Washington-on-the-Brazos]. Enterprising citizens then promoted the place as a site for the convention of 1836 and, as a “bonus,” provided a free meeting hall. Thus Texas’ Declaration of Independence came to be signed in a [sic] unfinished building owned by a gunsmith.

Texas Historical Commission Historical Marker
for Washington-on-the-Brazos

The Convention of 1836, the Texas version of the Continental Congress, convened March 1 in Washington-on-the-Brazos to address the needs of the Texians.  A week prior, President Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna’s army arrived at the Alamo. Within the day, the delegates adopted the Texas Declaration of Independence and elected an interim government. The Republic of Texas was born, March 2, 1836.  (So Texas is a Pisces, eh?) By March 6, the convention learned about the lengthy siege of the Alamo (yet, not knowing that the Alamo fell that very day), but Sam Houston, the future First President of Texas, successfully convinced the men to continue drafting new Texas constitution rather than rush to aid the soldiers.  After the Alamo fell, Santa Anna's army marched towards Washington-on-the-Brazos.

The marker continues:

The provisional government of the Republic was also organized in Washington, but was removed, March 17, as news of the advancing Mexican army caused a general panic throughout the region. The townspeople fled too on March 20, 1836, in the “Runaway Scrape.”

After the Texan victory at San Jacinto, the town thrived for a period.  It was again Capital of Texas, 1942-1845.

The Texas Congress permanently moved the Capital about 95 miles due west to Waterloo, TX, which was renamed Austin.

I never realized just how vulcanizing the Battle and Siege of the Alamo were for the Texians, but this is the typical story of the birth of national consciousness.  This is the Texas equivalent of the Gallipoli campaign. The news of the Alamo is what determined Houston to make Texas a successful independence movement.  With his signature, Houston turned Texians into Texans. 

We stop in the Visitors Center to get oriented with the park and to find out which displays were the highlights of the site.  We decided that the gunsmith’s unfinished building, Texas’ Independence Hall, and a walk to the Brazos would be the best use of our time.

A placard with a map of Washington-on-the-Brazos

We followed the former Main/Houston/Market Street from the center into the townsite, and tried to beat a group of 2nd graders to Texas’ Independence Hall.  Though we beat them into the Hall, we stayed around to eavesdrop on their docent’s story.  The Hall is a replica, based on the text of letters from the Convention’s delegates.  Regardless, on that spot, Texians forged themselves into Texans.

Interior of Texas's Independence Hall

Exterior of Texas's Independence Hall

We walked down the old Ferry Street to the river, and I turned around to look at Texas’ Independence Hall. It hit me how close the Historic Site is to the current town of Washington.  That blocked off left turn in front of the market was at the end of my view of Ferry Street.  I mentally overlaid the map of Washington-on-the-Brazos to the FM Road and realized that we took Preston Street into town and made a right onto Ferry Street, then traveled a few hundred feet before turning left to enter the park.

The Rio Brazos

At the site ferry station, I found the Brazos to be surprisingly deep, since I’m accustomed to the more easily forded spring-fed rivers of South Texas, like the Comal. Along the bank of the river, the volunteer told us about a pecan tree, which was present since the founding of the town.  This tree is the tree that inspired the Texas Legislature to name the pecan tree as the state’s official tree.

The Pecan Tree

The end of our visit, I purchase some post cards to mail to my nephew, niece and their second cousins, like I usually do on a trip.  As part of the transaction, I needed to give the cashier my zip code.

“One, nine, one…” I started to respond.

“Oh, wait, you’re not from Texas.  We usually get zip codes starting with seven.  Where are you from?” asked the female cashier.

“Philadelphia.”

“How are you making out in the heat?”

“It’s not bad; though it feels like more like a Philly summer than spring.” 

“You don’t wanna be here in August, then. So, what are you doing down here?”

“Well, we’ve got one of these Independence Halls in our town and I wanted to see Texas’s.”

“Usually, things are bigger in Texas, but I hear that yours got ours beat.”

Freeform Forum: #shitIseeatthegym

Yesterday was the first time in months that I used the locker room at my gym. Lately I’ve been either going directly home after a work out, using a hotel fitness center or not working out at all.

I had a work event after business hours and I wanted to get to the gym yesterday since I want to shape up for Ireland this September. I ducked into Pottruck late during work hours, did my cardio and headed to the showers to clean up before the event.

Lo and behold, there were individual stalls in the showers in the locker room. The last time I showered in the gym, it was a big communal shower with two lonely individual stalls at the end. I am so excited about this new feature because I will never have to take part in one of the most uncomfortable experiences in my life: conversations while naked in the shower.

For me, being naked is simply a utilitarian need in order to get clean, and not a state that one should maintain for prolonged periods in a quasi-public forum (or public for that matter). What one does in his or her own private areas is his or her business.

The reason that I’m in the shower is to get clean from my workout. However there are times that I also need the warm water to soak me into a human state or relieve some of my soreness from my workout. I guess that I try to have as much private time as possible, remaining insular, in this quasi-public locale. I feel intruded upon when men come into the shower continuing a conversation from outside the shower.

It goes beyond that unspoken rule that men have of not talking at a urinal. (Curse you who break that rule, too.) Again, it’s a common and shared need that all have to relieve oneself. Public and quasi-public restrooms should be used for their utilitarian function, and that function only, and not hold a discussion. I just extrapolate my feelings from a urinal to a shower. Only do what the place is designed for, nothing more.

No, I don’t care about your stock trades. It’s useless to me to hear about your new workout. I am uninterested in your not-present business partner’s sales philosophy. I am hoping that you would just shut up and let me shower without hearing you voice.

Lastly, don’t even think of trying to rope me in your conversation. I know that my mother raised me right, but I’m just going to be rude to you. Only once did a complete stranger try to involve me in the ongoing showering conversation. I was curt and surly. I don’t even remember what he said to me, but I did respond, “You’re kidding me, right? I have nothing to say,” and I quickly finished up my shower and got out.

If you wanna talk naked at the gym, go to the sauna, that’s what it’s there for.

myPics: Tirelessly Hunting for Easter Treasure

On the suggestion of one of my blogging peers, I'm going to post photos that I like from photos I took on my iPhone.  I might choose the photo for the subject material, the composition or what have you, but it will be something that strikes my fancy.

I was trying to get photos of  my niece, nephew and my 1st cousin once removed during Easter. I was running around in circles in the yard because three children, all excited for finding the Easter Bunny's trove, explode in bounds of energy when we let them start.  I love this picture I took of my niece on Easter as she diligently searches for eggs.  However I think that my computer improved it when I set it up as my background image and it cropped it into this.

Her little, soon-to-be-full, basket is now the focal point of the photo as she starts on her quest for Easter goodies.  The bright pink is in such contract to her white dress and the rich verdant grass, and it's always a cheerful sight to see on my computer when I start and finish the work day.

Not yet named food entry: Pretzel Challah (Los Angeles)

When I travel or in my own city, I always find foods that taste so incredible or that are prepared in innovative ways that I always remember that they are special.  They can be from a friend’s recommendation or a serendipitous find at a hole-in-the-wall.  So as a self-proclaimed foodie, I have my favorite places to go and I am always looking for new suggestions.

When I checked in with foursquare and announced: Got the pretzel challah! Can't wait to have a bite. (@ Got Kosher) http://4sq.com/lfU3l6, a few followers wanted to know about the bread.

When I saw Wendy earlier in my trip to Los Angeles, she kept telling me that I needed to try some pretzel challah.  I kept hearing “I need to take you to glatt kosher to get this incredible pretzel challah.”  I understood the meaning of each individual word, but I couldn’t glean a meaning when they were strung together.  I inherently trust Wendy’s taste in food, so I didn’t worry about going to some kosher deli for food even though I didn’t understand.

Well, my first first comprehension error was cleared up when I drove to South Robertson, Los Angeles, on Pico Blvd.  The store front is Got Kosher? Provisions, with a tag line: haute glatt to go. Without context, I didn’t understand the name of the store was a reference to the Got Milk? Ad campaign, and not just how kosher the food was. 

It’s a small store front with a bakery in the back, a glass counter displaying their meal offerings of sandwiches made with meat and parve foods, a refrigerator for kosher gourmet chicken and turkey sausages and three tables and some chairs in the front to serve as a dining area. It was the bread rack that was the goal.  There were large braided loaves of bread, turning out to be kalamata olives and rosemary challah, Belgian chocolate challah, whole-wheat challah, fennel seeds and fleur de sel challah, and a sole pretzel challah.

Now my second comprehension error had been cleared it.  It's a loaf of challah this is treated in rinse and then baked to get a pretzel-like finish and taste to the crust.

“Is this pretzel challah fresh?” Wendy asked.

“Hmm,” the lady behind the counter mused as she grabbed the bread to test.

“Normally, I don’t ask, but he’s never had this before and I want it to be good.”

“Would you like me to get one from the back?” the counter lady asked, smiling.

Wendy nodded and the lady asked a co-worker to bring out the fresh loaves. Wendy handed me one of them, and it was big.  It weighed in at two pounds.  I’ll admit, I thought that it was a burnt loaf of bread.  Yet, I know Wendy wouldn’t lead me a stray.

We leave with our challah and I’m just astonished how heavy it feels.  After getting into the car, Wendy asked me if she could open the plastic bag and get some pretzel challah.  She ripped me off a nice piece of the bread.  The soft, fluffy, almost-white dough was a contrast to the very dark brown crust. I bit in for the taste, and I was sold.

It was incredible. The challah consisted of six ingredients (in no particular order: flour, water, yeast , baking powder, salt and oil) and it was a magical food. Though there is no potato or butter, it tasted buttery, deceptively dense, sweet and yet fluffy with a caramel burnt dark pretzel taste in its thick bread crust. Had Jesus tried some, He wouldn’t have started his metaphor with “man cannot live on bread alone.”

With that purchase, I drove Wendy back to her place and thanked her for hospitality.  Originally planning to take Santa Monica Blvd to the 405, I double backed and headed to the 101 south to continue onto San Diego.  I wish I had some photos of my loaf of pretzel challah, but it didn’t last 3 days in my possession and it was nearly reduced to crumbs by the time I thought to photograph it.  When I get back to Southern California in December, I will get more and that time get a picture.

Got Kosher? Provisions is located at 8914 West Pico Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA.

Wish List: Caribbean Dreaming

Except for a wonderful family vacation in Port of Spain, Trinidad and Tobago, for my cousin’s wedding, I haven’t been to the Caribbean.  It’s the closest international area around the US outside of Canada and Mexico, but I haven’t spent any time there.  However, there is a destination that really intrigues me and that’s Saint Martin. 

Saint Martin is a divided island in the Lesser Antilles; it is the smallest consistently inhabited divided sea island in the world.  Just over 3/5 of the island belongs to the Collectivity of Saint-Martin, which is an overseas collectivity of France like its neighbor, St. Barts.  The remainder of the island comprises Sint Maarten and is one of four constituent countries that forms the Kingdom of the Netherlands, like Scotland is a home country of the United Kingdom.

Ah, Serenity!

While French and Dutch cultures are strong on their appropriate sides of the island – including using euros and Netherlands Antillean guilders (soon to be Caribbean guilders in 2012), English is ever-present and dollars are accepted wildly.  No wonder, since the history of the Caribbean is really a jumbled mess of foster parent custody. Spain, the Netherlands, France, Britain (UK), Sweden and the US all have laid different claims to these vast groups of Islands

A USAirways flight landing

When I get there would plan to check out:

Marigot: The Capital of Saint-Martin and the largest city on the island. 

Maho Beach: Located by the Princess Juliana International Airport, the site of dramatic jet plane landings on the island. 

Bioluminescent swim: Like many of the islands in the Caribbean, there are bioluminescent ponds and bays on Saint Martin. 

Crossing the border:  While it will be as anti-climactic as crossing the Pennsylvania-New York border, it will be an anti-climactic international border-crossing.

French: Thanks to Prelude to a Kiss, my Dutch is limited to two key phrases: Je hebt erg witte tanden and om je better mee op te eten. Yet, I am curious if I can understand any of the French spoken on the island, especially since there are so many other creoles spoken there. 

Food:  Of course, I heard there are many different cuisines present on the island. 

Marigot

Saint Martin is on my short-list of trips to take especially since it wouldn’t take a full day of travel and the distance of many time zones to get there.  

(All photos of Saint Martin are courtesy of TripAdvisor.)

Freeform Forum: Names for Blog Series

I’m developing a schedule for my blog to give me the structure I need to stay focused to write.

Currently, my contribution schedule to Frankly Penn is set up that I’m blogging for work about once every two weeks.  Every fourth Tuesday I deliver Locust Walk Talk to the blog and every fourth Friday I post My Top Penn list, a Penn-themed top ten list.  These two cycles are staggered which leads to my biweekly blogging. 

To keep me motivated to write, I want to develop a few topics for blog series.

First off, I’m establishing the series, Freeform Forum.  It's that topic that I can write about anything.  It’s my potpourri topic title. 

Secondly, I want to solicit anyone for ideas for my titles for the two topics that I’m going to start writing about to get my personal blog to three entries a week.

I need help with the names, and I’m currently stuck in alliterative mood.

Topic one and tentative name: Food Flight
Entries will focus on finding foods that are memorable in town and in travel.  Anything under the sun will be featured including specific food items, drinks, potent potables, menus, a particular cuisine, etc. 

I thought that the pun on food fight was cute, with the word “flight” to suggest traveling.

Topic one and tentative names: Time Travel or History Holiday:
I always thought that the Travel Chanel and the History Chanel should develop a show together that focuses on historical places – locations on historical registers, sites of history making events. Part travel show and part history lesson. (e.g. San Diego is the Birthplace of California. Mission San Diego de Alcalá was built in part due the Spanish king’s fears of the Russians entering New Spain. Island Palms Hotel & Marina on Shelter Island is a relaxing and affordable way to stay in San Diego.)

As I said, I’m stuck in an alliterative mood.

What would you call a blog series on these two topics?

Comment, e-mail: gaelickish AT gmail.com or tweet @IrishWombat. Thanks!

Blog Redux

I have been periodically contributing to the Penn Alumni blog, Frankly Penn, and I have always liked the exercise of writing.  I like to be creative with my words, and I do write well.  (Though, I can’t always proofread, spell or catch typos well.)  My past demonstrates that words are my medium. 

While overnighting in Houston due to a cancelled flight, I ruminated on how much I should be writing again. I thought about returning to my blog. However, my first attempt at a blog was unorganized.  I just wrote paragraphs. I tried to be thoughtful; I tried to be funny.  In hindsight, I was treating my blog entries like my status updates on facebook.  They were observations on the world, comments about pop culture, rants about people close to me and kudos for loved ones.  In short, when should have been microblogging, I tried to stretch them out into a marcoblog. 

Still I like the name of my blog and I didn’t think that everything was lost.  Also recently being in California (ergo the overnight in Houston) reminded me of the very reason I came up with the name focused around the Aboriginal belief in songlines.  There is something visceral that excites me from within when I am on US route 101, like I am being connected to travels and lives bigger than mine and beyond my experiences on these stretches of road.  As I perceive songlines as spiritual transportation routes between oneself and one’s beliefs, values and things sacred, I see the metaphor from the physical – major thoroughfares that link families, commerce, ideas, goods and more between all sizes of population centers. 

So, my goal is to go slowly and focus on my passions and great interests.  In asking myself about my passions and interests, two topics came up as passions: food and travel.  This isn’t a big surprise to me and probably not to anyone who knows me.  In following up on these two topics, I went to my Twitter bio in which I’m supposed to talk about myself in fewer than 160 characters to flesh out some additional writing topics: 

Funny, witty, sometimes snarky, happy, gay Irish American foodie & traveler in love with Australia, rugby & the Olympics... to start.

That’s a lot. I’m pithy and even with the ellipses, I had seven characters to spare. Yet, I hit on the food and travel immediately in my Twitter bio.  I’ll start with those two and get regular at posting on those two topics.  Plus with my two Frankly Penn topics: My Top Penn List (A Penn-themed Top Ten List) and Locust Walk Talk (Travel stories featuring Penn and Penn alumni – I am really addicted to travel), I can aim to have at least weekly content for my blog.  As my writing continues, I know that I’ll add additional topics to my now-structured writing exercise.

In the meantime to experience my snark, feel free to follow me on twitter @IrishWombat.