Cycling in HI

Q: can you log hilly miles and still avoid the highways in Hawaii?

A: sure!

I don't ride much anymore since I've moved to Hawaii as various ocean activities and hiking in the mountains have taken much of my outdoor recreational time. But when the cycling itch needs scratching I always have missed long climbs and little trafic. I've tried a few rides out of town. Good stuff, but mostly rolling terrain (with great views of the ocean) mixed in with some very bussy roads that make me head back to the ocean or the mountains where I can listen to my self think.

Strangely, hiking has shown me that there are some steep and quiet roads around that could turn into an interesting ride if linked together. Recently I experimented a bit. Some of roads are dead ends and a bit of back tracking was needed to get to the next valley, but I did ended up with a 40 mile ride that was just amazing. Great views. Great climbs. Gorgeous houses. Awesome high speed cornering. And once in a while The Bus coming at me in the opposite direction taking a wide corner in a very narrow road. Loved it.

Sangría

Over the years, LK and I have developed an affinity for sangría which we have found to be particularly handy at parties (the sangría, not our affinity for it).

When we first looked up recipes on-line we were a bit overwhelmed, but simply by looking at ingredients and preparation picked this version that was originally published in Bon Appétit (which we found on Epicurious.com). This version of sangría was taken from the bar man, Merril Frank, at Málaga Tapas & Bar in Austin, TX.

After some (ok, several!) opportunities to tweak the ingredients and process, I have settled on a refined recipe and preparation process. Here is the original ingredient list (in English) with my comments in square brackets. I'm also including my translation in Spanish since, after all, sangría is a great opportunity (or lubricant) to practice a foreign language. I recently shared this opportunity with some of my graduate students and it was well received.

• 1 750-ml bottle of dry red wine (3 cups) [I usually use Tochuelo, Tempranillo or Garnacha Spanish wines. Cheap and quite appropriate for the theme]
• 1 1/2 cups lemon-lime soda (such as 7UP) [basically, one can]
• 1 1/2 cups orange juice [I like medium pulp]
• 16 lime slices [2 limes cut in half and thin slices. I really don't count anymore]
• 16 lemon slices [2 lemons cut in half and thin slices]
• 8 orange slices [1 orange cut in thirds and thin slices]
• 1/2 cup brandy [cheap stuff is fine, like Presidente]
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 2 tablespoons Cointreau or other orange liqueur [I've always used Triple sec as that is what we normally have at hand for margaritas. But I've recently tried orange Curaçao and I think I like it better]
• 2 tablespoons grenadine
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice [usually the juice of 1 lemon]
• 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice [usually the juice of 1 lime]
• Ice

My preparation process is usually this:

Open the bottle of wine and taste it to make sure it's good. Slice all the citrus. Check to see that the wine has had adequate time to breathe. Place all the citrus and the rest of the ingredients into a punchbowl. Check once more to make sure the wine is ready to be mixed with the other ingredients. Taste sangría and open a second bottle of wine to make-up for the wine we drank in step one. And two. Check one final time that the sangría is just perfect. Add ice cubes and place in fridge for at least 30 minutes, but it is best to let it soak for several hours.

¡Salud!

En español:

• 1 botella de 750 ml de vino tinto seco [generalmente uso Tochuelo, Tempranillo o Garnacha]
• 1 lata de 7UP
• 1 1/2 tazas de jugo de naranja
• 2 limones reales ["lemons" en inglés] 2 y limones ["limes" en inglés. ¿Qué rollo, no? Pero muy fácil: dos limones verdes y dos amarillos] cortados por mitad y en rodajitas
• 1 naranja en tercios y rodajas
• 1/2 taza de brandy
• 1/4 taza de azucar
• 2 cucharas soperas de Cointreu [yo siempre uso Triple sec porque es lo que siempre tengo a mano para las margaritas. Pero hace poco usé Curaçao de naranja y creo que me gustó más]
• 2 cucharas soperas de grenadina
• el jugo de 1 limón verde y 1 amarillo
• hielo

Preparación:

Abrir la botella de vino y checar que esté buena. Rebanar los cítricos. Checar si el vino ya ha respirado suficiente. Poner los cítricos y los demás ingredientes en una ponchera. Checar una vez más que el vino esté al punto. Añadir el vino. Probar la sangría y abrir otra botella de vino para completar lo que nos bebimos al comenzar la preparación. Y a lo largo del proceso. Checar una vez más que la sangría esté perfecta. Refrigerar por lo menos 30 minutos, pero es mejor que remoje varias horas.

¡Salud!

Bacchus, Sanctus, and Ferragamo(?)

I always remember hearing . . . No, not hearing, knowing that Silvia Pinal was a very famous Mexican actor and was also very cute.

I don't quite remember, however, seeing her as young as she is in Viridiana (1961). Directed by Luis Buñuel, Pinal plays the novice Viridiana who is about to take her vows and become a cloistered nun. Her uncle (Fernando Rey) and financial supporter requests that she visit him before taking the habit. Viridiana, pushed by her Mother Superior, reluctantly agrees to go.

She spends a few days at his home, during which the sexual and religious tension between them is furthered by the camera's almost obsessive focus on feet, shoes, and religious icons.

Oh, did I mention that this is avant-garde cinema, by the way?

But don't get weirded out. This is no Un chien andalou eyeball-slashing, ant-crawling cinema. Buñuel manages to compose Viridiana's sanctity and sensuality and her uncle's desire for her (she resembles his late wife) in provocative ways without the obscurity typical of other avant-garde pieces.

At the same time, the simplicity of the framing and the dialogue belie the depth of the religious themes and criticism. Buñuel managed to get this past Franco era Spanish censors while he was making it, but after its debut at Cannes (where it won the Palme d'Or) it was banned all the way to the seventies.

The extras on the Criterion Collection Series DVD we got from Netflix are definitely worth watching. The interview with Silvia Pinal is quite informative about the history of the film (Is it a Spanish or a Mexican film?), a long special in French helps to understand Buñuel as a person (Did he or did he not punch Salvador Dali?), and a modern, if a bit nerdy, critic who manages to miss-pronounce Viridiana several different ways also helps to fill in some of the gaps (Did Buñuel have a fetish for shoes?).

Good film. Put it in your queue. Watch it. (If you dare....mwah ah ah ah..)

And then the teeny, tiny camels went across the desert...

Last week we watched the Academy award winning epic Lawrence of Arabia (1962). And yes, it took us a few days. This bugger is like, 3 1/2 hours long!

We thought we'd try a different format for our review this time, and we sent each other questions about the movie. We'll give you our Q&A here (with minimal rebuttals).

LK's questions to B:

LK: Did you know anything about this movie or the historical events referred to before you watched it? How did that affect your viewing experience?
B: I did not have the foggiest idea about anything.
LK: Me either.

LK: Did you used to think your tv was plenty large?
B: Yup. Boy, those epic desert scenes make the camels look puny.

LK: What did you enjoy the most? What was the most moving?
B: The movie as a whole was good, but I don't think I have any particular scene that was most enjoyable or moving. More like a flat feeling throughout.

LK: What were the Oscar-earning qualities of the movie, at least from your first impression?
B: It won an Oscar? [apparently it did].

LK: There were no individual female characters in the movie.Did it seem like an omission?
B: Nope. This is a movie about a guy in a war lead by other men, almost all takes place in the desert in a culture that shelters women from the eyes of other males (with whatever implications you might want to read into it with your Western XXI century sensitivities) so women are sheltered thus.
LK: In fact, women appear three times: the Harith women -- no faces -- watching a dinner behind a curtain, and also seeing their men off to war (with uluations), and some women in a ransacked village (dead), but there are dead men too. In context, significant female characters would have been way too Hollywood. Plus, there's much discussion that women weren't terribly important in Lawrence's life... (See Hidalgo)

LK: What did this make you want to know more about?
B: What was really going on in WWI in Arabia. How instrumental was he really in the war? As an aside, it is a great perspective on how Europe and the U.S. have had such political and economic interest in controlling the region to this day and how disgusting it is that the politics of the hegemonic countries have been unable to leave other cultures alone (and made me want to re-read E. Said's Orientalism).

LK: If your wife hadn't cheated and looked at IMDB, do you think you would have ever placed Alec Guinness?
B: Nope.

LK: This disk had no extras, but if there were any extras, what would you want to watch?
B: Was it shot on location? How hot was it really? Things of that nature.

LK: And most important: Sharif or O'Toole?
B: Sharif, for sure. O'Toole is just a bit bland and over-dramatic about his own personal importance in the world (which might reflect the real Lawrence, hmm...)

B's questions to LK:

B: Who was your favorite character in the film?
LK: Sharif Ali. He seemed the most...rational. (And he was the biggest babe.)

B: Is there a particular scene that you found particularly appealing (or unnecessary)?
LK: In general -- any scene with camels running across desert landscapes was really, really cool. Maybe if I saw it more than once, I would notice things that seemed unnecessary, but despite the fact that it was 3 1/2 hours long, nothing struck me as unnecessary (of course I hated the attack on the Turk troops and I covered my eyes, but the point seems to be the ugliness of war, etc., so I get that.)

B: After watching this film, would you like to know about the real T. E. Lawrence?
LK: Hell, yes. And more than just the Wikipedia entry. There is a 2008 book out on him, but I haven't found a review of it. You can get most of his own writings online, but I think I'd prefer more of a biography and historical context. I don't know a lot about the Arab Revolt. I think it would be really, really interesting and I'm sure it has a lot to do with contemporary issues in the region.

B: What did you think of the music? Will you buy the sound track?
LK: Maybe I already have...
B: What!?
LK: Kidding. But yes, I was into it. It was so interesting that on the DVD there is this explanation at the beginning that you aren't supposed to be seeing anything while the overture plays. It's a blank screen so that you are just listening to the music. It gives it a much higher level of importance as a result -- and when the same themes occur later in the movie, they have more power.

B: What prompted you to see this film in the first place anyway?
LK: Because it's famous. And epic. (I thought you put it in the queue.)
B: No. No. YOU put it in the queue.
LK: I'm pretty sure it was you...

One gin, two gin, clear gin, blue gin

Some of you might remember an older post in this blog about some fancy-pants blue gin that I was introduced to a while back by my father-in-law. Good stuff!

Then there are those "celerytinis" that LK has twittered and facedbooked about just recently. She learned about these at the Alembic in San Francisco and then found the recipe online. (The drink is actually called a "Southern Exposure.")

As I was unable to get the gin that the original recipe called for (Junípero, made by Anchor Steam in San Francisco), I decided to experiment with another gin that was also infused with spices since I could not get Magellan (the blue gin from the older post) where I was shopping. And a celerytini, which would end up being green anyway, would not benefit from blue accents.

I chose a new gin, Citadelle, and our celerytinis were quite successful. And tasty. Perhaps a little too tasty...

Anyhow, I decided that a gin martini taste was in order with such exotic gins at hand (I had a bit of Magellen left).

Since I was out of Martini & Rossi vermouth, I also restocked on a new (to me) vermouth: Noilly Prat, some fancy-pants French stuff.

After mixing two exactly proportioned martinis (following the recipe that was in the back of the Noilly Prat bottle), evaluation time was at hand. It was a tough one. (No seriously, it was.)

Both were quite smooth. Both had very good nuances of flavor. One was blue, the other not. Both had two olives. Was there a winner?

Well, at least in this first tasting round I have to say that the Citadelle was just a bit nicer. I'm not sure if it was smoother, or it had more nuances, perhaps it was drier (I thought I favored dry martinis), but it was just...nicer.

Perhaps I should make a blind test. Yeah. That's it. Well, but not tonight though...

Queso relleno

I have been in Yucatán several times, but I recently had queso relleno and learned that it is a favorite of Yucatecans and considered very much to be a traditional specialty.

This is one of those meals that has a long lead-in, and the anticipation that builds on the way to the final product makes it even better.

It starts as a ball of Edam cheese (Dutch) to which you perform 'open brain surgery.' You then scoop small amounts every day or so and eat it with whatever (bread, tortillas, crackers, a spoon. The last was LK's favorite).

Over time, you end up with a hollow and a very sturdy, thick cheese ball. The next few steps are up for debate, but the essential idea is that you stuff the hollow cheese ball with ground beef, capers, raisins, and a few spices (sorry, ancient Mayan secret). You stick the whole thing in the oven, then cut open and serve.

My Yucatecan relative fondly remembers his mother scooping the cheese pieces, and his anticipation for the final product that fed the entire family (and then some) a very hearty and delicious meal (served with a white sauce).

We had this at the Restaurante El Príncipe Tutul-Xiu in Maní, Yucatán. This is one of their specialties in addition to Poc Chuc.

(Note: the Edam cheese sample photo is at the Dr.'s house. Eventually this will become a queso relleno. Too bad we had to leave before it was finish. We did try!).

Ghost Rider

A friend from ABQ sent me this which was, in turn, sent to him by his brother.





And people think bikes don't have a soul...

The world of L2 acquisition

So on my more or less weekly scanning of Language Log I came across an interesting posting and accompanying video.

While LK and I generally resist posting You Tube videos in our blog, I think this one deserves an exception.



Oh, and there is a part 2.

For a linguistic and literary discussion of this sketch, visit Language Log.

For a real-life application, come to my class.

Miss Potter

Location: somewhere over the Pacific.
Destination: Puebla, México (via Texas).
Altitude: 33,000 ft (10,058 m)
Ground speed: 528 mph (851 k/h)
Time to destination: ~ 4 hrs.

Early in the ‘life’ of this blog we (well, mostly LK) wrote film reviews of movies we had watched at home with an occasional box-office experience thrown in.

Since we moved to Hawai’i long distance travel (meaning anything beyond what a mere mortal can paddle away from the shore) has meant using aircrafts.

With the proliferation of small digital screens on those flying machines as well as the ubiquitous presence of previously-released films being shown on the in-flight ‘entertainment’ system, a review based on said device never occurred to me as a valid source of a film worthy of a review. Say, with the 5” screen, the bad pixelation, the occasional interruption by the PA: “ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turn on the fasten-seat-belt sign on...” which means the image gets frozen on the screen only to resume with a slight burp, the person behind kicking the back of your seat every once in a while (yes I travel coach), the heavy editing most films are subjected to and the myriad of other unrelated video images bouncing around in your peripheral vision in their full color negativity--unique to LCD displays--, who could imagine that a movie would actually capture enough of my attention to make me spend my time writing this?

Miss Potter (2006), however, seems to have enough character and Renée Zellweger (Beatrix) does such a great job so as to overcome all the other distractions I was experiencing. While I am not a Beatrix Potter scholar or even claim to have a passing knowledge of 19th century British Literature, this film portrays Beatrix Potter, the creator of Peter Rabbit, in a very engaging but not childish way.

Ok, so there are a few moments early in the film (with Ms. Potter as a young child) that could make some people’s focus stray away. But overall this film flows well, seems to be informative about Beatrix Potter’s life (with whatever accuracy the director chose to use: see my previous disclaimer regarding my knowledge of British Lit.) and is certainly well performed.

If Beatrix Potter’s life was half of what the film presents, what a fascinating person she was. If nothing else, this film does seem to show an interesting (but perhaps limited) perspective of 19th century British class struggles within the realm of upper-middle class (tradesmen) and lower high class (former tradesmen). And while the film barely develops the story of Peter Rabbit (after all, that is not its intent, and the film clearly goes under the presumption that the viewers are familiar with that tale which I’m sure is quite charming and easy to follow) it certainly made me want to read Peter’s tale and at least try and find out if Beatrix Potter had as fascinating a life as the film tries to make you believe. A good choice indeed.

Good food, good service, good prices

So here is a short visual tour of a comida I just had in the DF. This is an Argentinian food restaurant, but I understand that they will prepare just about any meal a customer asks for, even if its not in the menu. I believe it.

This is, after all, a restaurant that has 2 walls full of photographs of very famous people that have eaten there. Some I spotted quickly: Gabriel García Márquez, Carlos Fuentes, Carlos Monsivais... the list goes on. Oh, no silly photos like you might see in other restaurants that like to brag of similar fame. All are classy professional looking people and photos (many are world famous writers).

They will bring a coat rack to your table, take your coat or purse, bring you drinks, take your order and you just eat. Yeah, you just eat. No bothersome "hello-my-name-is-Perfecto-and-I-will-be-your-server-today-is- everything-OK" waiters. When you, the customer, fells that there is something missing, you just lift your eyes and there will be a waiter there actually looking out for you but not bothering you until your tequila, beer glass or plate are empty. Then the item disappears along with the waiter almost imperceptibly only to be replaced with the next course or a fresh drink if you give the proper nod.

And the food? Well it was simply fantastic.

Total cost for a 4 course meal with drinks for 5 people: about 2,000.00 pesos. You do the math.

The Time Machine(s)

Often I catch myself being (compulsively) systematic. For instance, if I become interested in a film and discover there is some series (re-makes, sequels, etc.) I want to watch them in chronological order.

The Time Machine is the latest subject of this impulse. But this time -- this time, we also ended up reading the H. G. Wells book (1895).

We sort of went out of order, because we were inspired to read it as a result of having seen these film versions that bore little resemblance to our fragmented memories of reading the story in our respective youths (I read an illustrated version, LK read the book at some point).

When we did get around to read the literary version of The Time Machine, we were able to determine several things:

1. The 2002 film is really a remake of the 1960 film rather than a reinterpretation of the novella.
2. Wells’s text is far richer than the films (duh!).
3. The ambiguity of the book may have encouraged these creative interpretations -- no motivation for the Time Traveler is ever given in the book and both films revolve around what they decided his motivation might be.
4. Both films, like the book (and in fact all science fiction), reflect more about the times in which they were written than about the historical time in which Wells’s wrote his text.

So here are the executive summaries (book, 1960 film, 2002 film):

The book:
Motivation for time travel: scientific curiosity. Reflects the idea of intellectual pursuits for their own sake (the gentleman scholar). Reason for Eloi-Morlock split: the elite grew weak, proletariat grew powerful. The Time Traveler returns briefly to his own time to relate account of adventures, then leaves again to the far future never to return. Apparent motivation for his last departure is his dismay no one believes him (takes a camera when he goes back). Weena: physical companion only. She dies, no big deal.

1960 movie:
Motivation for time travel: disgust with war. The reason for Eloi-Morlock split was the war between "East" and "West." War destroyed the earth and some people went underground while others stayed above. Like the book, the Eloi are clothed and fed by the Morlocks -- its unclear if they can survive without Morlocks. The Time Traveler returns to his own time briefly to relate account of adventures. Decides to go back to "rescue" Weena and takes 3 books with him but we never know which ones.

2002 movie:
Motivation for travel: tragic loss of loved one, becomes obsessed with wondering why he can’t change the past (and prevent her death). Reason for Eloi-Morlock split: science goes too far -- moon is damaged and causes extreme environmental change. Some went underground, developed their own society with very clearly delineated castes (hunter, spy, leader), and are barely human. Elois stayed above -- primitive, but beautiful, very human. Eloi's survival is not dependent on the Morlocks. Not cattle, like in both previous versions, but certainly food supply for Morlocks. The Time Traveller never returns to his own time.

What they have in common:
A time machine and a Time Traveller.

Should you watch them? Nah. But do read the book!

Dead Man

B: We tend not to be very big fans of Johnny Depp. Perhaps this has to do with his mannerisms when speaking, or the weird stuff he sometimes does with his facial hair, or perhaps he didn't leave a very positive impression in the interview we caught on James Lipton's Inside the Actors Studio -- particularly with regards to what we saw as the unnecessary pretentiousness of rolling his own cigarettes during said interview (you can find the interview on YouTube). However, in Dead Man (1995), Jim Jarmusch's literary, post-modern, tripped-out western, we seem to be quite pleased watching him as "William Blake."

William Blake's journey to his new post as an accountant at Dickinson Metalworks in the town of Machine is actually the entrance to the more challenging journey that will test and prepare him for his final journey to where all souls come from. William Blake is guided and protected by Nobody (Gary Farmer) on the last leg of his journey. (And here I allow LK to interject since I don't know a thing about the historical Blake). The most important thing about him (that is the historical Blake) is that he is already dead, just like the movie's Blake (Depp).

LK: The fact that Depp-Blake never confirms that he is the William Blake and doesn't know any of "his own" poetry doesn't seem to bother Nobody. Depp-Blake morphs into a combination of the the identity given to him by Nobody and the circumstances in which he finds himself. It's not always clear when Nobody is reciting poetry, but early on he quotes "Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night" from Blake's "Auguries of Innocence." The reason Nobody does not closely examine whether Depp-Blake is the Blake may be because all that really matters is, as B states above, that they are both dead. All dead men are dead men. When souls return to where they come from, they are all joined -- therefore if Depp-Blake is dead, as Nobody says he is, he is therefore all Blakes.

Dead Man is not a passive viewing experience. No questions will be answered. While the movie can be watched as a literal narrative, it also is extremely complex on all levels. B has one interpretation that this may all be a journey through Purgatory, that Depp-Blake is either dead before he gets on the train or dies shortly after arriving in Machine, and he must go on this journey to finally achieve peace. (I never read The Divine Comedy -- anyone?) I think it's a compelling idea. There is some implication that the town of Machine is Hell, and Mr. Dickinson, who runs the metalworks, is the devil. This could mean that all of the characters in this place are either trapped there and reenacting the same events over and over (and their deaths within the realm of the dead are therefore very complex or are meaningless -- I haven't worked that out...), or the characters are other souls journeying through this land of the dead and who will either go back to Machine/Hell or on to the next level as Blake does. The souls in this place certainly are suffering (although purification seems to be less evident). Minions of hell (working for Dickinson) come after Depp-Blake to try to re-claim him before he finishes his journey.

B: As we watched the film we kept wondering why we didn't find Depp difficult to take but we eventually realized that it might have been that he doesn't talk much and doesn't do weird things with his facial hair (or any of his hair). [LK: Maybe we can actually watch another Depp movie after this. That irritation from the Actors Studio interview really did linger on for us...] Anyway, the film is shot in grainy black and white and Neil Young's music fills in the otherwise silent episodes with raspy chords that make the film a full sensory experience. Certainly, Dead Man is a film worth watching.

Movie: The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada (2005)

El primer entierro de Melquiades Estrada: Allows the viewer to briefly know some of the characters and perhaps formulate some conjectures of how each one of them might fit into the story. Tommy Lee Jones directs and stars (as Pete Perkins) in this magnificent film in which nothing seems to be anticipated before it's time.

Alongside Julio Cedillo (Melquiades Estrada), Jones slowly develops the narratives of the various facets of migrant life, friendships, and the need for awareness beyond our own borders, whether they are personal, political or otherwise.

El segundo entierro de Melquiades Estrada: As I reflect on this movie, I can not help but wonder (with the help of LK's background comments) about Jones's extensive knowledge of literature which is clearly not limited to traditional stage theater. With each burial, the tension builds and the various narratives and plots begin to gain complexity to the point that we are no longer wondering how, why or who killed Melquiades. Rather the deep psychological evolution of the characters as they intermingle with the plot details pulls us from out deep gut emotions and takes us beyond the events that are appearing on screen.

El tercer entierro de Melquiades Estrada: This is a definite must see. While some of the scenes might be too graphic for some, the film is very worth while watching and the reflections that might be capable of causing beyond the end titles can be priceless.