Friday, August 31, 2007

A Commuter's Dream (one cent)

If only every day could be the Friday before Labor Day. I drove through the park today. It was virtually empty. As was the office garage.

But enough of that.

Let's talk about breakfast.

As I was having a good bagel and a bad cup of coffee this morning, I wondered why Pumpernickel's couldn't serve the quality and variety of coffees served at Cafe de Francesco in Barcelona. Why is it that even coffee shops, like Starbucks or Caribou or whatever cannot match what the simplest shops sell to drink in Spain? Why do the exotic drinks here need to be so exotic? And so caloric? And so big?

Then, I realized that thinking along those lines would get me nowhere, so I reversed gears and wondered why Cafe de Francesco doesn't serve good (or any bagels)? What do you need for a bagel? You need flour (they have that), yeast (they have that), water (they have that) and toppings or flavorings (they have those). Then it occurred to me. The magic ingredient is butter. The bakers in Barcelona probably cannot conceive of baking without butter, just like the coffee brewers in the US cannot conceive of a drink that can't be sold in a 20 oz. cup.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

What a Difference a Day Makes


A few weeks ago, I picked up a paperback copy of a book I had never heard of, written by an author totally unknown to me. "Baghdad Express" by Joel Turnipseed. In the early 1990s, Turnipseed, a philosophy student at the University of Minnesota and a lance corporal in the U.S. Marine Reserves, was called up for duty in the first Gulf War. The book is, in effect, his diary.

When I first bought the book at Books for America, I took it next door to Soho's and looked through it while having a sandwich and Diet Coke. I found it appallingly bad. I thought it was poorly written, disrespectful of everything, profane, and not very illuminating. I put it aside and did not look at it again.

Until last night. For some reason, I decided to read "Baghdad Express". I think it was because I was tired and the book didn't weigh very much, it was only 200 pages long, and at least I knew what I would find and knew I wouldn't be challenged.

Last night (and still today), I thought the book was insightful, well written, and quite illuminating. I thought it formed a good complement to recently read "Homage to Catalonia" by George Orwell. I would recommend it.

What a difference a day makes.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

There are interesting things happening today, but

I don't seem to be able to find time to deal with them on the blog. So you'll have to come back another time.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Thoughts About Macao





I followed a docent's tour yesterday on the portion of the Sackler Museum's extraordinary exhibit on Portugal's navigational exploits of the 15th and 16th centuries and their ongoing influence across the globe. Yesterday's tour concentrated on China.

In 1557, the Chinese granted the Portuguese the right to establish a community at Macao. This led to Portuguese rule of the Macao peninsula and nearby islands for 442 years, ending in 1999, when the territory was formally ceded to the Republic of China. The Sackler exhibit deals with trade, with religious missionary movements, and with the relationship between the Portuguese and the royal court in Beijing. Beautiful silks, extraordinary porcelains, maps and paintings populate the three exhibit rooms. A mixture of cultures, neither overtaking the other.

And, I recall Macao always being compared to Hong Kong, the British Chinese coastal colony, and always coming out second best (and nowhere near Hong Kong in glitz, prosperity, or in any other category).

Switch to 2007. Look at today's New York Times and the article entitled "High Rolling Right Past Las Vegas". Let me quote: "The $2.4 billion Venetian Macao Resort, scheduled to open here Tuesday, will give Sin City more than a run for its money. The Venetian has more floor space than four Empire State Buildings. The hotel's slot machines, baccarat tables, and other games of chance sprawl across a casino more than three times the size of the largest casino in Las Vegas. The 15,000 seat sports area nearly rivals Madison Square Garden, the convention center has a 6,000 seat banquet hall and the luxury shopping mall has three indoor canals with singing gondoliers; the Venetian in Las Vegas has just one.....But what is most surprising about the 3,000 suite project is that it is merely the first of 14 interconnected hotels being built here by the Las Vegas Sands Corporation....and the [overall] project is just the largest of a series of giant gambling complexes being constructed here in Macao, on the southwestern lip of the Pearl River."

So what happened here? What happened to the silk and porcelain? What happened to good old Catholicism's inroads on the Chinese religions?

And what's more, what does this say about the world? Think Darfur, think Iraq, think the entire Moslem world, think Cuba, think...... And, lest it be forgot, the country of which Macao has now been a territory since 1999 is Communist China!!

I cannot process this at all.

Random (3 cents)

I was shocked a few months ago when I heard that David Halberstam had been killed in a random automobile accident. He had been invited to participate in a panel discussion at Stanford and was, I think, being driven from the campus either to his hotel or to the airport when his car (it was being driven by a graduate student, if I remember correctly) was hit by another. Random. Very sad. Very unexpected.

But it is not only Halberstam. I read in this morning's Examiner the following brief article: "An Arlington man was killed in a two car collision when a sport utility vehiclae ran a red light near the National Archives on Saturday night, according to D.C. police. Brian Ross Russell, 48, was a passenger in a taxi travelling on Constitution about 8 p.m. Saturday when a 2004 Toyota Four Runner traveling south on Ninth Street NW reportedly ran a red light and collided with the taxi....."

Random. It can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere, anyway, I guess. But on Connecticut Avenue at 8 p.m. on a Saturday night in a taxi?

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Sunday Morning




Sunday morning cannot be better spent than eating a bagel, drinking coffee and reading through the latest issue of the Biblical Archaeological Review. The September/October issue has two fascinating articles on the second Jewish revolt (the "Bar Kochba Revolt"), talking about the historical and archaeological sources, the degree of seriousness with which the revolt was taken by the Romans, and the degree of destruction which resulted. Not much in the way of contemporaneous reporting (there was no Josephus), but more and more discoveries on the ground substantiating the basic information which had been provided by Roman historian Cassius Dio.

In the Meantime (3 cents)

While procrastinating on detailed descriptions of some of the sights of Barcelona, I have not been wasting all of my time (or perhaps I have, depending on your point of view). Here is what has been going on since we returned from Spain ten days ago.

Books: First, I have read two books.



The one, not surprisingly, was George Orwell's "Homage to Catalonia", his description of his time in Barcelona and environs during the Spanish Civil War. Orwell went to Spain as a journalist, it would seem, in 1937, but quickly decided the owed it to the world to enter what he hoped would be the first successful defeat of fascism (Hitler and Mussolini facing no opposition). He joined an Anarchist militia and spent several months in the mountains of Catalonia, freezing, starving, observing, ruminating, and participating in several minor skirmishes to try to divert the Franco troops from the real battlegrounds, such as the city of Huerca. He was one of a number of English volunteers, and he was seriously wounded with a bullet that went through his neck, and was lucky to have survived. After spending time in various hospitals, he was sent back to Barcelona, arriving in time for the street fighting that occurred there, all between various of the non-fascist groups, the "democratic" government, the communists and the anarchists.

He concluded that war was unpleasant, that the Franco forces were going to lose (so he thought), but that the communists and the anarchists would also be on the losing side, with the government forces in control, leading to more of a plutocracy or oligarchy than a true democracy. He felt that the communists, afraid of the egalitarian philosophy of the anarchists, were a reactionary, rather than a revolutionary, force, siding with the government against fascism. He felt that both communism and fascism shared many qualities, including extreme class inequality (in spite of the communists stated) and total lack of tolerance. Orwell was of course quite right in much of his thinking.

"As for the newspaper talk about this being a war for democracy, it was plain eye-wash. No one in his senses supposed that there was any hope of democracy, even as we understand it in England and France, in a country so divided and exhausted as Spain would be when the war was over. It would have to be a dictatorship, and it was clear that the chance of a workingclass dictatorship had passed. That meant that the general movement would be in the direction of some kind of Fascism. Fascism called, no doubt, by some politer name, and - because this was Spain - more human and less efficient than the German or Italian varieties. The only alternatives were an infinitely worse dictatorship by Franco, or (always a possibility) that the war would end with Spain divided up, either by actual frontiers or into economic zones."

You can imagine what Orwell would be saying about Iraq.

He wrote this book, by the way, as a relatively young man, shortly after his return from the country. "Animal Farm" and "1984" were yet to come.




The second book I read was William Golding's "Pincher Martin", selected because I had read nothing by Golding and it was short. Man against nature: like "Robinson Crusoe" or "The Old Man and the Sea", but much more ambiguous than either. Martin is shipwrecked of a British warship during World War II and swept onto a remote Atlantic Island. The book is the story of Martin's battle against drowning, and his fight for survival without obvious sources of food and shelter. The prose is dense, but very well composed and very evocative.

But then something weird happens, that no one knows how to describe. Two new characters suddenly appear in the last chapter. Other members of the British navy exploring the island. They find Martin's body on the beach.

The trick is that Martin is wearing the boots that he had taken off while fighting the ocean to keep from drowning in the first chapter of the book.

What does this mean? Where is the reality? Was his survival a dream? A post-death dream?

Questions, questions, questions. And Golding was certainly not going to provide the answer.

Movies: I have seen three movies. Only one, "Once", was seen in regular theater; the other two were seen as part of the National Gallery of Art's free weekend cinema program.



"Once" is a very uplifting and enjoyable Irish movie. starring Glen Hansard and Marketa Iglova. Hansard, the leader of the Irish rock group 'The Frames' plays a young man who, when not helping his father in his vacuum cleaner repair shop, busks on the streets of downtown Dublin, playing popular songs during the daylight hours, and his own compositions at night. Iglova, who in real life sings with the Frames, plays a recent Czech emigrant who is intrigued by Hansard's music and by Hansard and who is excited to learn his day time job, because she has a vacuum in need of repair.

The chemistry between these two very likeable characters is highly charged, and together they work on his music (she is a musician as well, and helps him put together a makeshift band - the Frames, I suppose -) and produce a CD. They borrow money for the production, and the recording studio director thinks that this is a big waste of his time, until they start to play and sing.

You can imagine what will happen next as this couple draws closer and closer together. But it does not happen. Their relationship is an impossible one (she has a husband, still in the Czech Republic, and a daughter), and he still pines for his old girlfriend, now living in London.

Nevertheless, the movie has a happy ending (if indeed it is the ending), as they go forward on their separate life trajectories. The music is good. And, believe it or not, not only is there no overt sex in the movie, but there are no bad guys either.

Once has won a number of audience awards at recent festivals. It was released this year.



The second movie was "Maskerade", a 1934 Viennese movie, set around the turn of the century, and centered around the Viennese elite and their highly cultured high life. The most famous portrait painter of the time is rumored to have affairs with the women he paints; the wife of one of the city's top surgeons who is the brother of the musical conductor visits the painter hoping for more than a painting, and, although she is painted on wearing a mask and a chinchilla muff, she is disappointed to learned that the painter is a painter and not a serial lover. But her picture accidentally becomes public, and a scandal must be avoided. Of course, the painter falls in love with a woman of a lower social class, who is the only person in the movie with deep common sense and have furtive romantic interludes, all sorts of family intrigue and even an attempted murder (along with a Enrico Caruso performing in Rigoletto under the not quite cuckholded maestro) occur, but again all live happily every after (or, I guess, until World War I breaks out).



A very different movie was "Miss Universe 1929", a documentary about the first Miss University, Lisl Goldarbeiter of Vienna, half Jewish and very attractive, and her first cousin and second husband Marci Tanzer of Szeged, Hungary. Tanzer, a mechanical engineer by training and an amateur movie maker, filmed Goldarbeiter throughout her life, and it is these films that provide the basis for the movie. They were put together, with a little supportive dialog from a very old Tanzer (90+), awfully. An interesting story, with very interesting movie clips, could not have been turned into a documentary more sloppily.

Educational Forum: Only 27 people by my count attended a workshop presentation on Friday at the Holocaust Museum on the subject of Kristallnacht and the reaction of the American religious establishment (based on religious media, press and airwaves) to it. The nine presenters were finishing a two week workshop program sponsored by the Helena Rubenstein Foundation. They were all scholars, and representatives of various religious denominations. There was quite a bit of interest in this presentation (as a scholarly topic, this is apparently fairly virgin territory), as the reactions (and the intensity of pursuit of action based on the reactions) were quite varied, and often in surprising ways. But I came out of it thinking, in a sense, who cares? Clearly, nothing helped.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

And the results of the chocolate poll are.......

Totally inconclusive. Virtually a four way tie.

And the lesson is.......

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Another Diversionary Posting (12 cents)

I am walking by Dupont Circle. Drivers entering or leaving the circle at New Hampshire, 19th or Connecticut are always dangerously confused. I am standing waiting to cross New Hampshire. The light favors the cars entering the circle from New Hampshire. There are three people on my side of the street, and about ten on the other side waiting to cross. A car stops, although it has a green light (actually a flashing yellow arrow, which is part of the problem). The woman waiting on my left waves at the driver, motioning her to go forward. She does.

I almost talk to the woman. I want to tell her that what she did was very dangerous. Even though the driver had the right to go, and the woman was waiting patiently on the sidewalk. Others, particularly those on the other side, might have taken the driver at her word, and started to cross on foot. The driver, undoubtedly at least somewhat confused, might have seen the waving hand and, without looking carefully to her right, might have accelerated. It could have been bad.

But I didn't, and she and I went walking separately, but in the same direction, until we came to Connecticut Avenue. Now, there were just the two of us. Now I am on her left. There is no one on the other side waiting to cross towards us. The light favors the cars coming onto Connecticut from the circle. But a car hesitates and in fact, the driver waves at us to go forward.

What do I do? I shake my head 'no', and wave the driver on.

My walking companion (who I am happy to say did not walk in front of the car) says to me: "I am glad you did that. People get so confused here. I wish more people would do that."

I didn't say anything (except for a muffled 'yeah'). I was too embarrassed.

It's Not About Me, But......

I talked to my cousin who told me that she and her husband had just come back from several days in Branson, MO (you might remember my earlier discussion of our drive-thru in Branson). The tourist center was closed, the man who owned the magic water fountain had died, the theater group they wanted to see was on vacation for a week, and the excursion train was not running. And she said that they had a good time. They did see Yuri Smirnoff (What a city!) and Chinese acrobats (the guys who spin plates??). And the temperature was in the upper 90s. Wish I were there.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

The Spanish Chocolate Countdown (one cent)

I brought four large bars of Spanish dark chocolate for my office. Two are Torres chocolates, and two are Valor Chocolates. Each are 70% cacao.

My experience with this type of chocolate (which I take for medical purposes only, along with my red wine) is that it is very bitter (this is what qualifies it as medicinal, I believe).

But, lo and behold, the Spanish chocolate doe not share this characteristic. It is not bitter at all.

The first chocolate, tried on Friday, was a plain Torres bar. It was very very well received. The second chocolate, sampled on Monday, was a Torres bar with filberts. You cannot believe how well it was received. The third chocolate, sampled today, was a Valor bar with pieces of orange rind. It was received well enough, but clearly appears to be in third place.

But why? Is it because Torres makes better chocolate bars than Valor? Or is it that the orange rind not only does not add to the chocolate's popularity, but actually detracts from it.

Tomorrow should tell the tale, when we sample Valor's dark chocolate with almonds.

I will report back.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Initial Thoughts on Barcelona Trip - Part 5 - The Sights (Survey Course)

In nine days, I was able to do the following:

1. Take the Bus Touristic. THUMBS UP

2. Visit the Cathedral. NO THUMBS

3. Walk La Rambla. NO THUMBS

4. See the Columbus Monument. NO THUMBS

5. Visit the Museum of the City. THUMBS UP

6. Visit the Museum Frederic Mares. THUMBS UP

7. See Placa de Sant Jaume. NO THUMBS

8. See the Roman Wall. THUMBS UP

9. Visit the (possible) Sinagago Major. NO THUMBS

10. Go to the Contemporary Art Museum. THUMBS UP

11. Visit the Museum Picasso NO THUMBS

12. Vist the Textile Museum NO THUMBS

13. Visit the Aquarium THUMBS UP

14. Walk on the beach. NO THUMBS

15. Visit Gaudi's La Pedrera THUMBS UP

16. Visit Gaudi's La Sagrada Familia NO THUMBS

17. Explore Park Guell THUMBS UP

18. Visit the Fundacio Joan Miro THUMBS UP

19. Go to the National Museum of Arts of Catalonia THUMBS UP

20. Visit the Mies van der Rohe Pavilion NO THUMBS

21. Take a Side Trip to Gerona THUMBS UP

22. Take a Side Trip to Figueres, and see the Teatre-Museu Dali. MANY THUMBS UP

23. Go to the Saturday Flea Market. NO THUMBS

24. Go to the Sunday Used Book Market THUMBS UP

25. Take a Harbor Tour THUMBS UP

26. Do a Little Shopping

27. Wander Around

28. Visit the Diocese Museum

I did not get to do these things, which I wanted to do:

1. Go to the Geology Museum

2. Go to the Museum of the History of Catalonia

3. See the Gran Theatre del Liceu

4. Visit the Maritime Museum

5. Visit the Center of Catalonian Culture

6. Go to Palau Batllo

7. Go to the Palau de la Musica

8. Visit Fundacio Antoni Tapies

9. Visit the Monastery de Pedralbes

10. Visit the Royal Palace of Pedralbes

11. Go to the Caixa Forum

12. Explore the Castell de Montjuic

13. Go to the Archeology Museum

14. Go to the Ethnological Museum

I would also like to go to Montserrat (M and E went this time)

I don't care about the Wax Museum, the Chocolate Museum or the Museum of Erotica

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Initial Thoughts on Barcelona Trip - Part 4: The Food (1 cent)

The last time I was in Spain was in 1972. I remember the food as consistently the best I tasted anywhere, in quality, variety and quantity.

I did not have the same reaction this time in Barcelona. I thought we had good meals, but most were not spectacular. Of course, we did not search out spectacular restaurants, but I did not do that in 1972 either.

Here is a rundown of our meals. Restaurants are either rated with a "thumbs up" (which means I recommend it), "thumbs down" (the opposite), or "no thumbs" (eat there only if you're hungry).

Cafe de Francesca. Our breakfasts were similar to those I remember from that first trip. Coffee and pastries. As I earlier reported, we had breakfast virtually every morning at Cafe de Francesca, just down the street from the Hotel Majestic. This is part of a chain (I saw at least two others). It is more atmospheric than a Starbucks (and yes, Barcelona has Starbucks). It has two rows of outside tables on Passeig de Gracia under umbrellas, small tables inside in a front and a back room, menus of various sorts on the walls (all in Catalan), and a long bar with inviting stools on your right as you enter through two arched doorways. Hint: service is much quicker at the bar.

Because of language, it was hard to know all of the choices we had. The standard coffee was espresso, of course, and you could get all of the varieties you could expect. It was quite good. You could also get coffee americano, which appeared to be two shots of espresso diluted somewhat. It was also quite good, and stronger than typical American coffee. There was a large variety of teas. H. had jasmine oolong most mornings. There were also wall signs saying that Jamaican (Black Mountain) and Costa Rican coffee was available, but I didn't pursue and don't know how that would be served; I did see that there were separate coffee makers for each. There was fresh squeezed orange juice, processed with a large juicer (which seemed to be standard in a number of restaurants in the city; why don't we have those?).

The pastries were of high quality, as well. Croissants (chocolate and plain), palmiers, muffins (magdalenas) and others which were familiar. And some not so familiar, such as a tartaleta musico, which had nuts and dates and raisins, as well as a little custard in a pastry shell, the pastis de poma (sliced apple over custard in a square phylo-like dough pastry), and the canya crema (elongated cream filled pastry).

At night, the cafe turned into a bar, with among other things, a variety of grappa flavors and limoncello, a lemon liquor from Capri. We stopped in one evening before going back to the hotel. There was a torrential rain that night and we were trapped in the cafe for more than an hour, along with many others (including friends from DC. Grappa never tasted so good. THUMBS UP

Agua. Agua is a beautiful restaurant right on the Mediterranean. There is a broad boardwalk over looking the beach, well north of most of the beach front restaurants in the former Olympic Village area. Agua is actually located under the boardwalk. There is a small modern, glass enclosed entrance at the boardwalk level, perhaps measuring 8 feet square. Just big enough to enclose the stairway going down. The main dining room is spacious, divided into a bar area and an eating area, with glass windows overlooking the water. Outside is a terrace that is, in effect, right on the beach. The guidebooks all say that reservations are needed, but we were able to get a table at an early hour (for Spain that is, about 8:30 p.m.), "as long as you will be finished by ten". In fact, we were not quite finished, but no one seemed to care. Two of us ordered the tuna, and proclaimed it to be about the best ever had (but they had not yet been to Bar-Mut - read on), one of us had a monkfish brochette, and one had a codfish confit (simply cooked, served on a spinach base). We were all very satisfied. As for as starters, we had a very nice mixed vegetable medley, fried artichokes, a tomato/pepper salad, and a standard arugala salad with shaved parmesan cheese. We shared two desserts, a Greek yogurt with strawberries, and figs with marscapone. We also shared a very nice red wine, Belezos Acuarela 2005. All the Spanish reds we had were good; this was one of the best. It was a tempranillo, from Rioja. [www.aguadeltragaluz.com.] THUMBS UP

Agua was an expensive restaurant, as you might expect. About $40 per person.

El Puchero de Baralantra. We stumbled upon this restaurant early in the trip. It is located a few blocks from our hotel in the L'Eixample section of the city. We had tried to eat first at Cervesaria Catalunya, a restaurant perpetually crowded (it must be the Lauriol Plaza of Barcelona) and then at a nearby Italian restaurant, but both were overflowing with tapas minded twenty-somethings, so we found a nearby restaurant that only had a few other tables filled.

The service was very nice and, speaking about grappa, we each got a glass on the house (two kinds, killer and potable) after our meal. The food was adequate, but this is not a restaurant that one would rave about. El Puchero promotes itself as a restaurant serving traditional food, using natural produce, and not following the latest trends ("because some things never change").

We had two main courses, a tuna in a pepper sauce and an Andalusian baby squid, along with gazpacho, and several plates of tapas: olives, two kinds of omelettes, a cheese tapas, potatas bravas, and others. THUMBS DOWN

The cost was a little over $30 per person, including wine. www.elpurcherodebaralantra.com

Ugarit. Ugarit was a very pleasant surprise. It is a Syrian restaurant (I think there are three branches) located in the Gracia section of the city. I had passed it one afternoon about 4 p.m. and it was filled, so I thought it must be good. We had a little trepidation about going to a Syrian restaurant out of this country, it must be admitted. Our waiter spoke English pretty well amongst other languages. I told him that his English was much better than his Arabic. He laughed. I am not sure he knew a word of Arabic (he was from Bangladesh).

I wish I could tell you what we had, but the receipt is in Catalan-Arabic, and my memory is not helping me. The food included fattuch salad (with tomatoes, lettuce and bread), fried eggplant with tahini, and shwarma. Perhaps some of my dinner companions remember more.

This was an extremely crowded restaurant. The price was under $25 per person. THUMBS UP [www.restauranteugarik.restaurantesok.com]

Sedna. Sedna is a restaurant in the harbor area, but not right on the beach. It overlooks a marina in the enclosed harbor across the street in the area that is known as Porta Vell. It turned out to be our most expensive meal, and although it was very good, we probably did have better at some of our other choices. The main courses were turbot, salmon, duck and scallops. We had wine and sangria to drink. We had three desserts, two tarts (one apple, one apricot) and an Italian creme (tirimasu). The meal cost just over $50 per person. NO THUMBS [www.restaurantesedna.com]

Celler del Trabucaire. After visiting Gaudi's Church of the Holy Family, we had lunch at a small restaurant nearby. E. had anchovies on toast, H. had tuna on toast, and M. and I split a large assorted plate of hot tapas, which included baby octopus, sausages, olives, salads, mushrooms, patatas bravas, skewered chicken and more. About $20 a person. NO THUMBS

Can Majo.
The last time I was in Spain was in 1972. I remember the food as consistently the best I tasted anywhere, in quality, variety and quantity. Can Majo is an old, well reputed beach front restaurant, where we had dinner with our friends, the K's, who were also in Barcelona. Altogether there were 11 of us. The food was very good, the outside table with the strolling magicians very comfortable, and a good time was had by all. About $45 per person. I had hake or, as it is known in Spain, merluza. THUMBS UP

Wembly. Wembly is a neighborhood restaurant where M and I had lunch. The average age of the customers was about 80, it seemed (M asked me if we had wandered into the dining hall of an old age home). The food was not great, but for what it was, it was just fine, and the quantities were substantial. We had fixed price meals at $20 each. I had lamb, M. had cod. THUMBS DOWN

La Polpa. La Polpa was a find. E., M., and I went there on a Saturday night. It is a very trendy restaurant in L'Eixample. They have two courses - no tapas. The walls are filled with bottles of wine and chic chachkas. We had cod, dorado, and chicken brochettes for our main courses, a vegetable tart, a cheese salad, and a tri-color salad for our starters. We split one dessert, a date and nut bread/cake topped by unsweetened Greek yogurt. Doesn't sound that good? It was perfect. The very nice wine was the restaurant's private label. About $25 per person. THUMBS UP

Farga. Farga is a combination restaurant/tapas bar/geleteria located just off the Diagonal, near Passeig de Gracia. We had dinner sitting outside (where they add 20% to the price), and had merluza and salmon, ravioli with spinach and chopped meat, and duck with hundred-year old sauce, along with gazpacho, and pumpkin soup f0r a starter. The wine was Cresta Rosa, a rose. The dessert was an appealing selection of small cakes. It was about $35 per person. THUMBS UP.

Bar Mut. Bar Mut was our last restaurant. We stumbled on it, and went inside. It is really a wine bar with only about 8 or 10 tables, plus seats at the bar. And the tables are small. And there is no outside seating. But this was perhaps the trendiest place of them all. With no end of bottles of different wines climbing every wall. There was no menu, just blackboards with offerings and prices (of course not in English). The servings were a little larger than standard tapas size, but not full meal size. We over ordered. We had absolutely delicious tuna. We had a spinach salad, we had a delicious steak with foie gras, we had large prawns, we had chicken with pesto. And we have wine by the glass. This is a well known establishment, it turns out, and the reviews all say that same thing. Extraordinary food. But, oh, those prices. Our tapas-like meal cost us $45 per person. THUMBS UP

Restaurante Quixote. This is a typical restaurant about two blocks from the hotel. We ate here the first night. Again, the food was not bad, but there is no reason to go back. Actually, I don't remember what we ordered, except that E., who was tired from the trip, just had a saladTHUMBS DOWN.

El Zorzal. El Zorzal is an Argentinian restaurant, also known as Gaucho. There are a surprising number of Argentinian restaurants (and Argentinians) in Barcelona. We had lunch there, and discovered that they served fish as well as beef. The decor was very understated; it looked like a place for workers, not tourists. It was a nice place for lunch. NO THUMBS

La Marona. When we got to Barcelona, it was about noon, and we asked the concierge at the hotel (well, actually, one of the clerks; there is no official concierge) and he recommended an upscale seafood restaurant in the Gracia section. We took a cab, and upon arrival realized that it was too upscale for lunch for four tired travelers, and passed. We started walking back and found La Marona. I remember that I ordered as an appetizer a dish called judias verdes. I know this means green beans, but I think it may also mean green Jew. Is that possible? E. had gazpacho and large sardines, which I tasted and thought only so-so. NO THUMBS

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Initial Thoughts on Barcelona Trip - Part 3: The Books (2 cents)

Eventually, I will get to the sites themselves, don't worry. I am still hovering around the periphery.

As for the books, there are two categories, books read and books bought.

In keeping with my usual practice, I took with me several books that I found around the house that appeared to have the following qualities: they were paperback, they looked at least moderately interesting, I would never read them sitting around the house, and they weren't too long. I took three such books with me. It turned out to be a good selection and I read all three. None had anything to do with the trip.

First, I read a book that no one else reads (I am sure): "The Red Danube" by Bruce Marshall. This is a comic recounting of the British occupation of Vienna after WWII, centering on one somewhat hapless Colonel Nicobar, who is given the task of routing out hidden enemies, is housed in a convent, and wishes he were somewhere else. But who are the enemies? That is for him to find out. Are they Russians, or are the Russians (also victors, also occupiers of Vienna) allies? He does not know, and no one can tell him. And, when a famous Russian ballerina wants to defect to the west, and is hidden by the Mother Superior of the convent, what is he to do? (This was the going over book)

The second book was Berthold Brecht's "Three Penny Novel". Now, I knew of course Brecht's Three Penny Opera, a musical written with Kurt Weill. But I hadn't really known he had written a novel as well (the novel came last, not first), and did not know what to expect. It follows the complicated story of the Peachams and their business of selling supplies to beggars, of Coax who wants to defraud the government by selling it unseaworthy ships (at worthy ship prices with the help of his inside agent, Hale) to transport troops during the Boer War (and who convinces Peachem to invest), and of MacHeath, who supplies the "B Stores" with stolen goods and works to control not only all of the leading discount chains of London, but also the banks the fund them. And of course Polly Peachem ("The Peach") marries MacHeath (much to her father's displeasure, because he fears that MacHeath is, as rumor has it, the infamous Knife), and Peachem wants to annul the marriage so that she can marry Coax (who too late he discovers to be an out and out crook). Amidst it all, a clever critique of small scale capitalism, played out through the workings of extraordinarily clever and complex business deals by all three men. A lot of fun to read. (This was the Hotel Majestic rooftop deck book)

Finally, on the trip home, Thomas Mann's "Confessions of Felix Krull", a fictional memoir written by a clever and handsome young fellow who leaves his bankrupt family to make it first as a Paris hotel clerk taking advantage of its wealthy guests and then who trades places with a young nobleman to pretend he is the nobleman on a parent-sponsored world wide year long tour (so the man in question can remain in Paris with the girl of his dreams, the very girl his parents are providing the funds for him to escape from). But alas our hero only gets as far as Lisbon, where he too falls in love. (This was the flying home book)

And what did I buy? Well, in addition to a catalog of the collection of the Museum Mares (about more, later), I found and bought signed copies of books by people that few have heard of: Jose Luis de Villalonga, Rordigo Brunori, Enrique Nieto de Molina, and Yolanda Bedregat. Along with a signed copy of Andre Maurois' memoirs of the war years. None are in English. I will read none of them, but will feel fulfilled that I have them.

Initial Thoughts on Barcelona Trip - Part 2: The Hotel

The Hotel Majestic has two important things going for it: its location and its rooftop pool and deck. And the beds were comfortable. Perhaps these even outweigh the negatives we encountered during our 9 night stay.

The Majestic is a 300 room hotel located at the corner of Passeig de Gracias and Valencia. Passeig de Gracias is the major artery leading through L'Eixample, the late 19th century upscale residential/commercial/tourist area that includes the majority of the Gaudi-designed buildings. It connects the medieval city and the port (to the east) with the trendy, more residential Gracias area to the west. Valencia is one of the major north-south streets running through L'Exaimple.

From the Majestic, you can walk (or take the Metro) to almost anywhere.

It is an old hotel, containing 300 rooms and apparently comprising three separate buildings, although they have been seamlessly connected (you can see the separation best when noticing that hotel hallways are sometimes surprisingly interrupted by short flights of steps, as the floor levels in the properties are not exactly at the same level).

It has been a hotel since the 1920s, and was refurbished in the 1990s.

We stayed at the Majestic because E. wanted a roof top pool. And, as I said, this is quite an asset. The tenth floor roof contains a small pool, both lounge and sitting chairs, umbrellas, and (at night) a bar. It offers very nice views of the city in three directions (every way but south). During the day, you can get cold drinks and sandwiches, and the fitness room is located off the deck. It is altogether pleasant, even if a Coke cost you 5 euros ($6.75), and a chicken sandwich (admittedly pretty good) cost 14 ($19.00). One evening, we each had a pre-dinner glass of Cava (this one, a dry sparkling wine, with a beautiful ruby red color). I shudder to think what that cost us.

Many of the rooms are small, as you would expect in an old hotel. Particularly those which face away from the street, on to a not-very attractive courtyard faced by all of the buildings on the block. And, because we were not paying top dollar for our rooms (2 rooms x 9 days x top dollar = unaffordable), this is where we were. That, however, was not a problem, because what we lost in views, we probably gained in quiet.

But there were several problems. For one, there was reconstruction underway on the lobby floor. We were told that it was not planned reconstruction but was the result of the massive power outage that had hit the city three weeks before our trip, causing damage to the electrical system in the hotel. Perhaps this was the case, but if so, the Majestic seemed to have been the only building so affected.

At any rate, the main lobby, directly on the corner, next to the ground floor Armani store, was blocked off and closed, and a side entrance on Valencia led to a small, makeshift lobby that clearly was overtaxed. The reception desk was to your left as you entered; it was big enough for perhaps three clerks, but there were usually about 6 there (I assume the main lobby is much larger), and they tended to fall over each other. At almost any hour, of the six clerks, five were male, all were perfectly dressed and coiffed, and their average age was about 60. They were rather formal, and lacked warmth. Their ability to speak English varied.

The hotel has two sets of elevators. The Valencia elevators, nearest the makeshift lobby, were very small, but convenient. But four days after our arrival, they were shut down to the lobby floor, and only the Passeig de Gracias elevators (around two corners, bordered by temporary walls cutting off the real lobby) were usable. This meant, for example, that we needed to climb two different flights of stairs on the fourth floor to get to our room. Not sure what the handicapped do.

The Majestic is clearly a very busy hotel. There are guests like us, who stay for a week or so. But the hotel also caters to cruise ships (Barcelona being a popular port for the start or end of Mediterranean cruises), and there were large parties of cruise ship customers (I am not sure what else to call them), who stay for a night or two, and who totally and completely overwhelm the temporary lobby, as they and their baggage are picked up by their buses in the morning. And there are other groups, such as the Vanderbilt University women's (girl's ?) basketball team, which arrived looking like they needed nothing more than fashion advice.

But this was not the biggest problem. We stayed in Barcelona for 9 days in part because we did not want to have to pack our bags and move around, as we usually do. But, it turned out that our plans did not work out. E. and I were put into a smoking room. We had requested a non-smoking room. They may have tried to cover up the fact that this was a smoking room; you could not smell the smoking because it was masked by a extraordinarily strong perfume smell from some sort of sickening air freshener. You could get rid of the smell by turning on the air conditioning fan at full blast, but because this was a small room, you were soon living in a meat freezer and, as soon as the fan was turned off, and because the perfume had been blown away, you felt like you were in an R. J. Reynolds factory. This was obviously not satisfactory, so on day #2, we had to pack our bags, and they moved us to a new, slightly better room, on a non-smoking floor.

M. and H. had it even tougher. Their room seemed fine, and so it was for the first few days, but then they got a message that they had to move because their room (on the first floor, right above the lobby floor) was being taken off-line because of the reconstruction work being done. Now, wouldn't you think that they would have known this before they put someone in it for 9 days? At any rate, they had to completely repack, and then they were moved to a room, which had only one bed. And they were told that, yes this was a mistake, but it could not be corrected until the next day.

I went down to the lobby and complained that the move itself was not justified, and that forcing them to stay in a one bed room, with a promise of a further change the next day (which may or may not be fulfilled) was not right, either. After much conversation among the six clerks, they found a room that was available with two beds, and agreed that they could be moved there immediately. And so they were, and it was an upgraded room, much bigger than the one that we had.

But the desk was rather ungraceful, and completely unapologetic, about the entire chain of events. The best that they could come up with was what they told me: "OK, we have taken care of your daughters. Of course someone is coming in this evening thinking that they will have that room. But you know how it is, whenever you solve one problem, you create another."

The Dolma restaurant (ten tables, world class chef, very, VERY expensive, is located on the ground floor of the Majestic). It was temporarily moved to somewhere on the first floor. The restaurant usually found on the first floor (elegant, and only VERY expensive, was moved to the basement level). We ate an neither. And don't know if anyone else did while we were there. Luckily, the Cafe de Francesca, just across the street, served good coffee and pastries, and we breakfasted there every morning. I bet they miss us now.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Initial Thoughts on Barcelona Trip - Part 1: The Flights

We returned yesterday, leaving our hotel at about 7:30 a.m. CEST (Central European Summer Time, I think) and landing at Dulles about 3:30 p.m. Our trip across left Dulles at about 6 p.m. and we wound up in Barcelona about 11 a.m. the next morning. The debate was which is a better way to go, flying through the night, or over a full day. In either case, you land alive and a little loopy, but seem to manage. Perhaps it makes no great difference.

Iberia Airlines provided good, if not flashy, transportation. Everything came off on time, and the food was, for airline food, pretty good. Going across to Europe, the main course was beef goulash, spaetzele, Greek salad, a Wisconsin cheese triangle, and tiramasu. Welcome to Spain, I thought.

We transferred in Madrid both times. That is quite an experience. The Madrid airport is very large, it seems, and unique in the way incoming and outgoing flights are handled. When you leave the plane, you climb three long, long ramps. On one side, the large glass windows let you watch the runways and gates, on the other side, you see mysterious doors, this time clouded, leading to who knows where. The overall effect is very modern. At some point, a small arrow tells you to turn left through one of these doors, and another arrow tells you that connecting flights require you to proceed through still more doors. You then see screens that tell you what gate your flight leaves from. We were leaving yesterday from Gate U65. This means that first, you need to find U. You are helped along this task by going on interminable moving sidewalks that let you look out to the incoming ramps on your right, and into again who knows what on your left. Eventually, you see that you need to go through another set of doors (this time clear glass), because that is where R,S,T and U gates are. Then you go through security again. And then you go down an escalator and find yourself in the middle of a large shopping mall, with upscale designer outlets, duty free shops, places to eat and so forth. The various corridors go off from this area, including one that leads you down past several (I think it was) R gates, until you get to the U corridor, and of course, our plane was at the very end of this corridor. They tell you when you deplane at Madrid, that if you have to transfer planes, give yourself 30 minutes to get from one gate to another. This is not far off.

The Barcelona airport was very different. It is much less spiffy, and looks like it needs a major upgrade (in fact, construction is going on, but I could not tell whether it was for a replacement terminal, or a Terminal D to add to the existing three. Inside our terminal (B, which is dominated by Iberia), there were approximately fourteen billion people looking to check in their luggage. If you are going to any of the Americas (north or south, etc.), you needed to check into gates 24, 25 or 26. There were ten billion people in these lines. It took us about 45 minutes to check in. Then you need to walk to the opposite end of Terminal B (about the equivalent of one end of Dulles to the other), go up a relatively unmarked escalator, find yourself at security, go through security, also find yourself in a shopping mall, but have an easier time finding gate M5.

It all made Dulles seem so much easier. And, by the way, customs in all places worked very smoothly. Only when we came back to the US, and E. told the immigration lady (who asked whether we brought anything back with us) that our luggage was filled with anchovy stuffed olives that I felt we might be in deep trouble. M. disagreed: she said that our bags were about to be searched, but that we escaped this degrading step because no one wanted to put their hands into a vat of anchovy stuffed olives.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Cardinal Lustiger Dies

And the obituary in the New York Times this morning by John Tagliabue is fascinating.

I knew that Lustiger was born Jewish. I had read before that his mother had died in Auschwitz and knew that he had been baptized when living with a Catholic family in hiding during WWII.

But the obituary shows to what extent, in his mind, he remained Jewish as he rose in the Catholic hierarchy. From the obituary:

"Cardinal Lustiger appeared to have undergone a spiritual crisis in the late 1970s, when he considered leaving France for Israel. "I had started to learn Hebrew by myself with cassettes," he told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in 1981. "Does that seem absurd, making your aliyah?", he said... I thought then that I had finished what I had to do here, that I was at a crossroads." Then in a surprise appointment, he was made bishop of Orleans....."

and

"In any early interview as archbishop, he said: "I was born Jewish, and so I remain, even if that is unacceptable for many. For me, the vocation of Israel is bringing light to the goyim. That is my hope, and I believe that Christianity is the means for achieving it.""

In response to criticism from Israel's Ashkenazic chief rabbi in 1995, he said: "To say that I am no longer a Jew is like denying my father and my mother, my grandfathers and grandmothers. I am as Jewish as all the other members of my family who were butchered in Auschwitz or in the other camps."

Nothing is simple, is it?

Sunday, August 05, 2007

As We Get Ready to Depart for Spain

I wonder why my blogging has slowed down. Why I haven't told you why reading Arye Lev Stollman's "The Far Euphrates" was not worth the time spent on it, or why Bill Gertz's "Betrayal" is excellent reading whether or not he is right on his facts or his opinions. I have not gone through all of the theater we saw last weekend, from Michelle's performance in "Oklahoma" in Rockville, to "Souvenir" at the Studio, to "Chasing Justice", "Noor", or David Hare's play about his trip to Israel. One day I will, but the blog will be shut down until at least the 17th, and then there might be major changes in store.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Filler (39 cents)

1. We just came out of Joe and Tony's Seafood Restaurant in Georgetown. Our lunch was pretty bad. A couple is looking at the menu outside. The man asks how it was. I say "fair". He says "did you say great"? I say "no, just fair. You can do better." and I suggest Sequoia or Agraria, all in the same building. He is very, very grateful.


We walk up the way a bit. I turn and look back. They are going into Joe and Tony's.

2. ABC has a new show coming. A bunch of obese volunteers are going to take a 500 mile walk to lose wait. It is to be called "Fat March". According to the spot I saw this morning, Fat March will follow all new Wife Swaps.

ABC has outdone itself.