Found a new place for pho not long ago, not far from where we live. Once upon a time, the only place we knew for pho, besides Vietnam itself, was Argyle Street on the North Side of Chicago. But good food tends to spread.
Why go on about it in words when this image will speak for me?
Ah, muy delicioso.
More snow last night. Getting a little tiresome, eh? Most of the nation is probably getting tired of the Winter of ’14 and its polar vortices and cancelled flights and icy Southland.
But spring is nigh. I know that because in the mail today I got the first circular of the season advertising better lawns through chemistry. Maxi-Green Lawn Service, or something, promising a lawn as green and monocultured and uninteresting as the surface of a billiard table. It’s a little hard to imagine any kind of lawn under those feet of snow, but I know it’s down there. As usual this year, I’m going to promote biodiversity in my lawn and survival of the fittest for the flora.
Here’s a word you don’t see all that much: trivet. I’m thinking of it because I also got a MoMA catalog in the mail today, as always full of artful bric-a-brac that I don’t order. In includes the Bakus Trivet, by Brazilian designer Tati Guimarães.
“An ideal way to collect and repurpose corks from special occasions,” the catalog says. “This stainless-steel frame becomes a trivet when you add bottle corks atop the 36 bent spikes. (Corks not included.) Made in Spain… $48 MEMBERS $43.20”
Some cork-collecting friends of mine in college could have used one of these trivets, provided it wasn’t that expensive. They collected corks for some years, and wrote on each cork who was with them when the bottle was opened, and when. As I participated in wine drinking with these lads, my name too ended up on some of the corks, which were kept in a wooden box.
These days it would take a long time for me to accumulate 36 wine-bottle corks. And we don’t need any more trivets, since we have two cast-iron objects that serve that purpose. Still, it seems like a clever little item.
Sunny day today, but that just means that a little snow melts on top of the snow mounds near the streets, then refreezes on the streets, forming hazardous ice sheets. I saw one wide sheet today at the corner of a large street and a side street. Right-turning cars onto the side street risk skidding out of control on the turn – and maybe into a car waiting to make a turn onto the large street.
We’ve gone through a half-gallon (1.89l) of almond milk in a couple of days. A little expensive, but it’s tasty stuff, and probably healthful. But it’s not enough to market it as merely healthful. The container, which is exactly like a milk carton, goes to considerable length to assure buyers of its virtues as a food. It also assures us of its ritual purity.
Or at least the modern equivalent. It is:
FREE OF [caps in the original] dairy, soy, lactose, cholesterol, peanuts, casein, gluten, eggs, saturated fat, and MSG.
All Natural with added Vitamins & Minerals [caps again – though English is not, last time I checked, German].
Made from REAL Almonds.
Vegan.
Made in a Peanut Free Facility [I really want to add a hyphen].
and
This Almondmilk [sic] is made from Almonds that were not genetically modified.
That last one piqued my interest. By golly, I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that no Frankenalmonds have crept into my diet. I checked a little further, and found that the almonds used to make my almond milk are from California.
From there, I looked up the Almond Board of California. A handy Almond Board pdf tells me that there are no fewer than 30 varieties of almonds raised in California, 10 of which account for 70 percent of production.
Always nice to learn something new. The pdf also says, “All California Almonds are developed using traditional methods; genetically modified almond varieties are not planted or available in California.”
The carton, then, was making a virtue of necessity. Strictly speaking, though, “traditional methods” must involve breeding almonds for desirable characteristics over a good many years. A kind of genetic modification, in other words, just as agriculture has done for centuries. Just not the boogeyman kind from modern labs.
Last winter we didn’t get much snow. But it finally did snow in February, in time for me to see downtown Chicago with patches of snow, such as on the fountain in the plaza in front of the Board of Trade Building.
Bet it looks exactly like that now. Further along, I snapped a picture of “Flamingo,” a 50-ton steel work by Alexander Calder, which has been standing at Federal Plaza for about 40 years now.
Two years ago in February, we had some particularly sticky snow one time.
But we were warm inside and able to enjoy warm food, such as octopus on rice.
I don’t know that Calder ever did a 50-ft. steel octopus-like form, but it would have been a cool sculpture.
Over the weekend, some of Lilly’s friends came over for a while, and she made dinner for them and her family as well.
Among other things, a savory concoction of Italian sausage – both spicy and mild – along with onions, bell peppers, and I forget what else.
Too bad this blog doesn’t have a smell feature. I guarantee you’d want some of this right now.
No falling snow today, just real cold air. Of course I had to be out in it for a while, including a period spent figuring out why the garage door wasn’t closing. Once I figured it out, it was all too obvious. A chunk of snow had attached itself to the bottom of the door, and when it passed in front of the electric eye, it stopped the door.
Until I thought to visit the Coca-Cola web site itself, I couldn’t find a list of all the seven languages used in the “America the Beautiful” commercial aired during the Super Bowl. The descriptions I saw simply mentioned that most of the languages weren’t English, which seems to have fueled a short-lived tempest in a teapot. I didn’t see the commercial live, or any of the commercials during the game, or the game either.
I caught it on YouTube the next day (the commercial, not the game). A pretty piece of work, even considering that at its heart, its goal is to sell sugar water (or more likely around here, corn syrup water). Where’s that street at 0:35? Looks like a Chinatown, but I can’t tell where. I want to go there and get some noodles.
The languages are English and Spanish, naturally, but the others were impossible for me to pin down just listening: Tagalog, Hebrew, Hindi, Keres (spoken by the Keres Pueblo people), and Senegalese-French. Interesting selection. It didn’t take long before some jokesters created a parody that included the likes of Klingon and Dothraki – which I’d never heard of before, since I’ve missed Game of Thrones entirely.
Another thing I didn’t know, but just found out: as a child, Charles Nelson Reilly attended the circus in Hartford, Conn., on July 6, 1944, the day the big top caught fire and killed over 160 people. As an old man doing his one-man show, Reilly described his escape. Separately, another fellow described his escape.
Lilly found a bottle of Marley’s Mellow Mood Black Tea “decaffeinated relaxation drink” the other day at one of the grocery stores we visit sometimes. Marley as in Bob Marley. And what’s the secret relaxation ingredient? Something still banned in 48 states?
Of course not. Besides tea, the ingredients include “pure cane sugar, critic acid, natural flavor, sodium citrate, chamomile extract, lemon balm extract, valerian root extract, hops extract, and passionflower extract.”
I had to look up valerian root. This from the University of Maryland Medical Center: “Valerian has been used to ease insomnia, anxiety, and nervous restlessness since the second century A.D. It became popular in Europe in the 17th century. It has also been suggested to treat stomach cramps. Some research — though not all — does suggest that valerian may help some people with insomnia. Germany’s Commission E approved valerian as an effective mild sedative and the United States Food and Drug Administration listed valerian as ‘Generally Recognized As Safe.’
“Scientists aren’t sure how valerian works, but they believe it increases the amount of a chemical called gamma aminobutyric acid (GABA) in the brain. GABA helps regulate nerve cells and has a calming effect on anxiety. Drugs such as alprazolam (Xanax) and diazepam (Valium) also work by increasing the amount of GABA in the brain. Researchers think valerian may have a similar, but weaker effect.”
Later in the article, the UMMC says that “Valerian root has a sharp odor. It is often combined with other calming herbs, including passionflower (Passiflora incarnata), hops (Humulus lupulus), lemon balm (Melissa officinalis), skullcap (Scutellaria lateriflora), and kava (Piper methysticum) to mask the scent. Kava, however, has been associated with liver damage, so avoid it.”
Except for skullcap and kava, that’s practically the same list of ingredients as Marley’s Mellow Mood. Lilly drank most of it, but didn’t seem noticeably calmer, though she’s usually pretty calm. She springs from phlegmatic people, and comes to the feeling naturally, I think.
I had a little of the tea myself. Not bad. I didn’t feel particularly mellow afterward, either. No more than usual, anyway.
The bottle also tells me, “Manufactured in the USA for Marley Beverage Company LLC, Southfield, MI.” Suburban Detroit isn’t particularly associated with Marley (or Rasta) that I know of, but I don’t really know that much about him. Pretty much by chance, however, I did see Bob Marley in concert. Until today I couldn’t remember exactly when I saw him at Vanderbilt, just that it was freshman year at the not-too-acoustically-good Memorial Gymnasium, where nevertheless the big or biggish acts played (it was the biggest hall on campus).
Remarkably, I’m able to look it up. The concert was on December 10, 1979. I don’t remember it like it was yesterday. I remember it like it was well over 30 years ago. I would have recognized “I Shot the Sheriff,” “No Woman, No Cry,” and “Get Up, Stand Up” on the playlist, but not much else. I wasn’t much of a fan. A girl I knew had persuaded me to go.
I also remember that the auditorium was smoky – smoking of one kind was allowed during concerts in those days, and smoking of another kind was tolerated – and that between songs Marley would cry out, “All hail Jah!” “Almighty Jah!” and the like, as well as “Free Zimbabwe!”
At that moment in history, post-Rhodesia Zimbabwe was transitioning toward independence, which would be formally achieved in April 1980. Marley was there to play for the independence celebrations, and the description’s worth reading: “During ‘I Shot The Sheriff’ riots have led [sic] to pause the concert. Marley later reappeared on stage to perform three more songs before the concert was definitely cancelled. A free concert was performed one day later…”
The VU audience was a bit more sedate than that, even without the benefit of valerian root. Sadly, at the time Marley was about at the end of his life, though we didn’t know it. Less than a year after playing at Vanderbilt, he was too sick to go on tour, and in 1981 he died of cancer.
Spotted at a warehouse store the other day: large bags of chia seeds. It’s apparently the same seed (salvia hispanica) that makes Chia objects the items of fascination that we all know, but now they’re touted as a food. A superfood, no less. According to one of the tag lines on the box that held the bags of chia seeds, they’re the ANCIENT SUPERFOOD OF THE AZTECS.
That made me laugh out loud, in the real sense, not in some shorthand way. Superfood of the Aztecs, eh? Gave them the strength they needed to get up and do what needed to be done, namely conquer their neighbors and sacrifice countless captives to their angry gods.
Reminds me of the commercials I saw long ago, touting the ingredients of Roman Meal bread as a superfood of ancient Rome — surely the food that powered Scipio’s victory over Hannibal at Zama. Well, maybe the commercials weren’t quite that detailed, but they did try to link Roman vigor with their product.
“What kind of vegetarian are you, Eyebeam?”
“I do my best to steer clear of bear meat.”
Jan. 12, 1994
Today I sat down for a dinner of bear chili. This was my idea. I made it this morning, went off to teach in the afternoon, and came home to it a little while ago. Yuriko’s not home yet, since this is her night class night. The bear meat came in a can – no, came from a bear – anyway, the meat has lately been in a can, sitting on our kitchen shelf since I bought it at Chitose Airport in Hokkaido in October.
Am I contributing to the demise of Hokkaido bears? I don’t know. I do know that there are enough of them to frighten hikers in Hokkaido’s national parks.
2014 Postscript: This article, for one, talks of a lower population of Hokkaido bears because of “hunting and loss of habitat.” I faintly remember the bear meat chili being like chili with beef, only a little greasier.
I spent a little while looking at this blob, trying to see a conventional Santa in it. It was hard to see. The scan seems to make it a little more representational. Made it’s the lighting.
No matter. Its purpose wasn’t to be admired visually, but to taste good on the way down.
That got me to thinking — it doesn’t take much to start a tangent — that the next big thing in custom chocolate could be treats based on famed abstract art. That’s the sort of thing that the Sharper Image or SkyMall might sell: Henry Moore milk chocolate shapes or Isamu Noguchi foil-wrapped dark choco Easter bunnies or a Dada Whitman Sampler.