Hungry?

If you're an environmentalist, a health freak, or an animal rights activist; if you closely follow food politics; or if you have read Marion Nestle's excellent Food Politics, Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation or Michael Pollan's wonderful books The Omnivore's Dilemma or In Defense of Food: well, then there's no need to watch Food, Inc.. You won't learn anything new.

But you should watch it anyway.

Playing in selected theaters near you (in Boston: at Coolidge Corner).

Here's the trailer:

Mad Scientist, Anyone?

Being without a car has the big drawback that we can't leave Boston as easily as we would like to sometimes, especially when the rain has finally stopped and we're graced with a sunny day (a rare occurrence, this summer). We very much depend on our friends Minh and Jerrel to drive us around to explore the area surrounding Beantown. Thankfully, they seem to like doing so, and a couple of months ago they took us on a little expedition to Lexington, Concord, andWalden Pond. Two weekends ago we went north to Salem, site of the famous 1692 Salem Witchcraft Trials. Salem's very pretty to walk around; it has some gorgeous architecture, a nice pedestrian-only city center, the Salem Maritime National Historic site, the Peabody Essex Museum, and dozens of witchcraft shops that invite tourists to experiment with white magic or buy their next Halloween costume. Both destinations--Concord/Lexington and Salem--make for great one-day trips.

Last weekend we had plans to go to Karls in Saugus to buy German sausages to grill that night, but first we wanted to do something more "cultural" (although Karls--no apostrophe!--is quite the cultural experience, too. Those of you German speakers: think Blutwurst, Bierschinken, Weisswurst, Thüringer: Karl has got it all, and on top of that Löwensenf and Curryketchup and Mon Cherie and Oblaten and Fa-Seife).

A long time ago Erik was told about Hammond Castle, in Gloucester, and since neither Minh nor Jerrel had been there, we decided to check it out before going to Saugus.

Oh boy! Hammond Castle! One mad scientist lived to see his boyhood fantasy come to life, I think. John Hays Hammond, Jr., "second only to Edison in number of patents" (I'm quoting from the website), built this castle in the late 1920s, supposedly as a gift to his bride, but who was he kidding? The man designed a Gothic castle, including a great hall with an ear-deafening organ (the curator played a sample, turning up the volume only half-way as not to hurt us), a draw-bridge, secret passageways, and, according to folklore, dungeons that served as top-secret laboratories. Hammond filled the castle with his extensive collection of medieval artifacts, some original, some exact replicas: medieval armor suits and weapons, tapestry, furniture, etc. Visitors are invited to roam freely--and roam we did, up and down the many circular and narrow staircases, to a number of rooms all stuffed with interesting curiosities (among my favorites: a large medieval-looking manuscript depicting the family tree of Hammond, which links him directly to Charlemagne and all British royalty). Completely wonderfully insane: the indoor patio that's modeled after a medieval town square: around a small pool in the middle are walls that are designed to look like a Gothic church entrance, a Southern France shop front, a Germanic-looking home. The "town square" is covered by a glass ceiling to which several small pipes are connected: if desired, it rains from this artificial sky, and since Mr. Hammond was a clever cookie, it doesn't just "rain": it drizzles, it pours down, it mists, it storms. Another little quirk: the castle's been used for psychic seances, and apparently you can still attend those today.

After our visit to the castle we stopped by Manchester-by-the-Sea, which has one beautiful beach. It was the first time I dipped my feet into the Atlantic, while the boys dissected jelly fish.

And the grilling? Oh, it was lovely! Much to Minh and my delight, the guys didn't touch the Blutwurst (cooked pig blood, yummy) but indulged in the Bauernwurst.

PS: As always, more pics on our photo gallery!

Readings, briefly

I haven't written about books in a while, but that doesn't mean I haven't been reading. Here's what I've read, some recent, some from several months ago that need to go back to the library, with brief commentary.

• The Age of American Unreason, Susan Jacoby: A history of the decline and fall of rationality in American public discourse. The most interesting chapter is the one on Middlebrow Culture. Recommended reading.
  
  
• Faceless Killers, Henning Mankell: The first of the Swedish Wallander mysteries, which are becoming a regular feature on PBS's Masterpiece Mystery. The mystery was a bit thin, and the writing is serviceable, at best, the promise implicit in the setting and the detective are discernible.
  
  
• The Cruel Stars of the Night, Kjell Eriksson: The second novel in another Swedish detective series, this one with a single mom as lead detective (much easier to pull off in Scandinavia). Eriksson's prose is several steps above Mankell's (though both men's books suffer from weak translations by non-native speakers), but the case was far-fetched and a bit melodramatic. Eriksson did a much better job than Grafton in alternating between the killer's and detective's perspectives, but it still didn't really work. Particularly troublesome in the story, though, was that for all the emphasis on the single motherhood of the lead detective, her interaction with her child, not to mention the child himself, is barely mentioned. Just one of several ways in which the set of characters wasn't made interesting enough to induce me to read any more books in the series.
  
  
• Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson: Quite entertaining tongue-in-cheek early 1990s cyberpunk. Read it in most boring non-science class during your nerdy adolescence. If you've already passed that developmental stage, Cryptonomicon is a better entry point to Stephenson's oeuvre.
  
  
• The End of Order, Francis Fukuyama: A kind of dry follow up on some ideas in Trust, which was a kind of dry follow up (read Robert Putnam's Bowling Alone instead, or at least first) on some ideas implicit in Fukuyama's (infuriating, incorrect, but interesting) policy-wonk bestseller of nearly two decades ago, The End of History and the Last Man. As with the works of Richard Posner, one of the small number of right of center public intellectuals worth engaging with, there is a methodological/worldview problem: every phenomenon is reduced to markets and questions of utility maximization -- the dismal science to save the day! This can be useful for making a model to help get a grasp of certain aspects of the system under consideration, but the meta-issue of not confusing the model for the system seems to pass pundits of the economicist persuasion by more often than not.
  
  
• Dark Age Ahead, Jane Jacobs: A great little book, written at the end of Jacobs's life, an example from my favorite nonfiction genre: gloom and doom decline and fall thrillers. (Perhaps "thriller" exaggerates.) Jacobs identifies five trends pointing towards social decline, and they're not the ones you'd expect. Her discussion of these trends is intelligent, proceeds from an urbanist point of view (she's famous for The Death and Life of Great American Cities), and uncovers interesting insights and connections (using language and analysis that reminds me of dynamical systems theory). It's too bad she'd dead; I would have loved to read more.
  
  
• Case Histories, Kate Atkinson: Melanie already mentioned this one, but I hadn't read it. A relatively quick, entertaining read. Atkinson is definitely a good writer, with sure-footed prose and interesting characters. (The female one's talk and think about sex or lack of it way too much for my taste, though. It distracts from the mystery story.) The mystery itself is a bit thin, and though she plays fair with the reader, there is enough that's far-fetched to raise eyebrows, but you keep reading, in part because the detective, Jackson, is quite likable. I'll read the next one.
  
  
• Gott schütze dieses Haus, Elizabeth George: The first Inspector Lynley mystery, and the first book in German I've read in six months. The German was at just my level, though even I could tell that it was pretty bad. A pleasant read nonetheless, with interesting characters and not too much interpersonal romantic intrigue to turn me off.
  
  
• The Craftsman, Richard Sennett: A completely terrific book, deserving of its own post when time permits; in the meantime, read the NY Review of Books article on it. Another book about the work of hand and head was recently featured in the New York Times, but I have a hard time imagining that it could match the deep insight and lucid prose of Sennett's ambitious book, which, happily, is the first of a planned trilogy.
  
  

What I'm still working on:

• Essays, Roger Bacon: I made it through the first half on the trip to NM. A stranger on the train from Grand Central to White Plains late one night (we were riding back after a lovely Friday evening with our friends Toby and Hyeseung) asked jokingly if it were a real page turner. I could honestly answer affirmatively.
  
  
• War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy: Advice from the same stranger on a train -- just make it through the first chapter, then it sails along. I have yet to make it through the first chapter without falling asleep -- I read mostly at bedtime -- but I have high hopes.
  
  
• The Manual of Detection, Jedediah Berry: One of my birthday gift books, sporting a fabulous green cover. At the sentential level, exquisitely tautly crafted, it doesn't overplay the noir style. It promises to be a very clever, entertaining book, but the somewhat whimsical-magical scenario and atmosphere requires me to be in the right frame of mind to really delve in and enjoy it.
  
  
• Collapse, Jared Diamond: I feel like I know the punch line, and each case of yet another mysterious vanished civilization is presented with the same verve as an invited review in Science. It's a bit too much like reading for work, which is a disappointment -- I'd expected a more engaging read, based on ten year old memories of thoroughly enjoying Guns, Germs, and Steel.
  
  
• A Death in Belmont, Sebastian Junger: From the man who brought you the perfect storm, the story of a murder that happened in his childhood Boston neighborhood -- when he was still an infant -- while the Boston Strangler was on the loose. This one's pages turn easily.
  
  

Back on the Blog

As M. reported, we were in New Mexico on vacation at the end of May. Before that, I attended two conferences in Utah, which is rapidly rising in my ranking of potential places to live and work. It was my first time in Salt Lake City, a surprisingly attractive, livable town with a high quality university and friendly inhabitants. The town is ringed by beautiful mountains that promise wonderful hiking and skiing. The first conference was held at the university, the second at Snowbird ski lodge half an hour outside of the city. During the second conference, I never made it far enough outside the lodge complex to experience much more than the clean dry air and the strikingly clear blue sky, but I thoroughly enjoyed the place, except for the outrageous food prices charged to the captive market (I paid $10 for a hotdog for lunch one day).

I don't have much to add to what M. has already written about New Mexico, and there's not so much more to say about Utah -- my memory for specific details has begun to fade -- so let's get back to books and music and just keep Utah on the books as a great destination.

Art & Food

What a combination! And no matter where you go in New Mexico, you'll run into it.

Art

I'm not going to pretend I know anything about the cities we visited, but it's a fair assumption that Santa Fe and Taos are best known for their vibrant art scenes. The coexistence of Hispanic, Anglo- and Native American cultures has attracted artists all along; Georgia O'Keeffe is obviously the most famous artist who moved to New Mexico, but she surely wasn't the only one. Our little trip was much inspired by O'Keeffe's legacy; we stopped at the O'Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, visited her summer vacation spot at Ghost Ranch, and ooh-ed and aah-ed at her home and studio in Abiquiu, where she permanently lived for more than three decades. Even if you know nothing about O'Keeffe or don't like her, I guarantee you'll love her art (and admire her for the feminist she was) once you've seen where she's lived and worked. Patroness of the arts, Mabel Dodge Luhan invited many artists and writers (most famously O'Keeffe and D.H. Lawrence) into her house in Taos, which we visited, along with the home of the Blumenscheins and Nicolai Fechin's Russian-inspired house. Fechin has to be one of the greatest portrait artist of all times; I was surprised to learn he had lived in Taos (if only for a few years).

Among the most memorable art on display in Santa Fe were baskets--woven, sewn, glued, hammered; traditional and very untraditional. If you pass through town before September, do visit the exhibition Intertwined (at the New Mexico Museum of Art). These baskets are amazing (if not necessarily always baskets). I want to learn how to do basketry now! And weaving! (Oh, those woven rugs everywhere!) Of course, jewelry and pottery are among the most prominently practiced crafts in the region, and we visited the Santa Clara Pueblo specifically to look at the famous black pottery, of which Erik's mom owns a few pieces.

Food

Yes, we ate plenty. I will exercise self-control and restrict myself to naming just three places (although I could name six, easily). (1) If you have a thing for gnocchi (which is a weird thing to admit to, but here I go: I love gnocchi. The home-made kind, the one that makes potato mash stick to everything in your kitchen and beyond, the one that is particularly delicious with melted butter and fried sage), go to the restaurant at the Inn of the Anasazi in Santa Fe. Gnocchi with oyster mushrooms: hello heaven! (2) There's nothing in Abiquiu but O'Keeffe's house, the smallest post office you've ever seen, an old-fashioned general store (called Bode's and quite famous), and the Abiquiu Inn. The food at the Inn--wow! So good! We had dinner there and breakfast, and both meals were absolutely fantastic. (Tamale Cake Napoleon, anyone? And that's just the appetizer.) (3) Vegetarians, don't be offended: I highly recommend the The Steakout Grill and Bar in Taos, but mostly because of its risotto. This was almost as good as Martina's risotto in Milan.

Oh well, here some more restaurant recommendations: Great breakfasts at (4) Tia Sophia's in Santa Fe and (5) Church Street Cafe in Albuquerque. Fabulous desserts at (6) Café Paris in Santa Fe.

I leave it to Erik to write about the New Mexico wine we tried. Cheers!