Thursday, May 14, 2009
Lucy Love
I have meaning to do some sprucing up here for a while now, but like I said, I am lazy. I finally got around to adding a picture to the title bar and changing up my food/Sabres theme, that was soooooo 2007! Now the blog is officially devoted to my favorite pastime (eating), my current locale (Chile) and the love of my life, my niece Lucy. She has been absent far too long from this blog so I need to change that. Here is my girl over the weekend. Like auntie, like niece!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Picture of the Day 001
When Kim was visiting me, she took a picture of the day with her blackberry and sent it to her parents. That was such a lovely idea and now I'm stealing it. I am only going to put in writing that I will do this for a week, but mentally I am telling myself a month. It's just that I'm super lazy about follow-through so I'll try to get through the week so that I don't beat myself up when I quit after two weeks. Watch me not even get through seven days, ha. Well now, without further ado.
(Turn off your television. Live your life.)
(Turn off your television. Live your life.)
Things I Miss about the US and Also Things That Drive Me Crazy in Chile
Before you think I am all Negative Nancy, be forewarned that I have a post on deck about things I love about Chile and things I do not miss about home. I'm very balanced like that. And it would be interesting to compare how I would have written these entries three months ago because I think the list the things I liked about Chile would be shorter then. When I got here, I was definitely enjoying myself but I wasn't in love with Chile. Even as of early April when I went to Buenos Aires, I questioned if perhaps Chile was the right choice. But now I am deep in Chile-love and I can see that leaving in July is going to be much harder than I anticipated. But this post isn't about that, God, focus Laila!
-I miss a number of food stuffs, too much really to list here but peanut butter is top on my list. I can't believe I have gone through three months of my life without peanut butter! Also, cheese. Oh CHEESE! There is no cheddar here and worse, they national cheese seems to be waxy, tasteless swiss cheesy-looking stuff and that's one cheese I never got along with. I also am adjusting to life without tofu and soy milk. Weirdly though, I missed this stuff a lot at first and now I am over it, mostly. I never thought a cheese-less life would be okay, but it is. That does not mean I won't run to Wegman's cheese shop when I get home, because I will.
-My washer and dryer. Well, anyone's really, I'm not so attached to mine. The washing machines here SUCK and people just do not own dryers. Also, there are no laundromats, there are laundry services that will wash and dry your clothes but it is expensive and I don't like strangers touching my dirty clothes. This no dryer thing was acceptable when it was hot and sunny all the time but now the weather is changing and I've been waiting for my jeans to dry for two days. It's a wonder the whole country doesn't smell like wet towel.
-Pandora. It's unavailable in Chile and that is a shame.
-Gas that just comes on. I pay my gas bill and hence, I turn on the stove and there is gas. I want to take a hot shower, and I do. Just like that. Here, people use tanks of gas that need to be lit when cooking and showering. I had an old stove explode in my face in my first, shitty apartment in Allentown so this makes me a little uncomfortable. Plus, you never know when you're about to run out of gas or you worry that you might not have turned it off and the house will have blown up in your absence.
-Being understood. I can express what I need to here but obviously not as well as I can in English. Factor in also that people expect not to understand me because I have gringa written all over me. For example, I got into a colectivo the other day and said "Teatro Mauri." The driver said "Ehhh?" I said "Teatro Mauri." He looked at me like I had two heads and the guy next to me said "Teatro Mauri." "OHHHH, Teatro MAURI! Yapo." I said it right, I know it, I even rolled my tongue, but only once because the single "r" is one glottal flap, just like I learned in phonetics. I wonder if people here think I am stupid or if they know that sometimes I can be funny. Sometimes I think I can't be the REAL me here and other times I think I can only be the real me, because I have nothing to lean on or hide behind; I can't be coy or use humor to deflect like I can in English.
-Paper products, soap and hot water in bathrooms. I am not a huge germaphobe but it's pretty skeevy that most bathrooms are not stocked with these products. And what's the point of washing my hands if there is nothing to dry them on? Actually, I have that beef with a lot of home bathrooms I've visited in the US too. People! Where are your hand towels?
-Dog diarrhea and dog erections. Not a pretty subject, I know. Oh, by the way, that falls under the Things That Drive Me Crazy about Chile category, not Things I Miss. Anyway, there are almost as many mangy mutts here as there are people. I think this illustration, expertly rendered by one of the little boys I live with, gives you a visual of one of the reasons this is so annoying. (Fijate por donde caminas=Watch where you walk.)
There is dog shit EVERYWHERE!!! You have to really pay attention while walking to avoid it. And these Chilean dogs have diarrhea a lot, it must be all the garbage they eat. Also, since these are wild dogs, none of them are fixed and a day does not go by that I don't see at least one in a heightened state of arousal. Gross. I mentioned the dog situation at a party a few weeks ago and related a story about my mother calling Animal Control to pick up the wild dogs outside of the school where she works. They all thought an office called Animal Control was one of the funniest things ever.
-Overemployment and Underpayment. In what I can only assume is a strategy for reducing unemployment, lots of people here have completely unnecessary jobs. I'm sure they aren't making much money but some mindless, senseless job must be created so that the government can say they are reducing the number of people without jobs. I first witnessed this when in Chiloe, buying a towel from a department store. I selected a towel, walked to the cash register and paid. Instead of the young man handing me my towel, he gave me a receipt, indicated that I should follow him across the room, where he handed off my towel to another useless employee and I had to wait in line to exchange this stupid ticket for my towel. Moronic.
-Actually, that last point leads into my next one well. Chileans are obsessed with receipts and tickets. If you buy a bottle of water, they will slowly, painstakingly write you a receipt for 300 pesos or whatever measly amount it is AND if you don't take it, they will chase you down, press it into your hand and tell you to GUARD IT!
-My, my, I am segue-ing nicely here! Chileans also seem to love telling people to watch their things. I think they must have an overinflated sense of danger. I'm sure there is some violent crime here but mostly what seems to go on is petty thievery. They must not know I am from the WEST SIDE, ok? Seriously, I don't walk around with money out or have a big camera, so LET IT REST! Just because I am a a gringa doesn't mean I have no street smarts. Interestingly, there is a sizable network of women from the US-living in Chile bloggers and some of them have touched on this subject. They mentioned that's just how it is in the US, you know, you can leave your laptop on the table in the cafe when you go to the bathroom. Huh? I wouldn't leave my pen on the table if I didn't want it stolen, here or at home.
As soon as I publish this, I will think of another point to make so I may be editing and updating this. And I'm sure my lovely family members who visited may have some things to add to this list so feel free to jump in!
-I miss a number of food stuffs, too much really to list here but peanut butter is top on my list. I can't believe I have gone through three months of my life without peanut butter! Also, cheese. Oh CHEESE! There is no cheddar here and worse, they national cheese seems to be waxy, tasteless swiss cheesy-looking stuff and that's one cheese I never got along with. I also am adjusting to life without tofu and soy milk. Weirdly though, I missed this stuff a lot at first and now I am over it, mostly. I never thought a cheese-less life would be okay, but it is. That does not mean I won't run to Wegman's cheese shop when I get home, because I will.
-My washer and dryer. Well, anyone's really, I'm not so attached to mine. The washing machines here SUCK and people just do not own dryers. Also, there are no laundromats, there are laundry services that will wash and dry your clothes but it is expensive and I don't like strangers touching my dirty clothes. This no dryer thing was acceptable when it was hot and sunny all the time but now the weather is changing and I've been waiting for my jeans to dry for two days. It's a wonder the whole country doesn't smell like wet towel.
-Pandora. It's unavailable in Chile and that is a shame.
-Gas that just comes on. I pay my gas bill and hence, I turn on the stove and there is gas. I want to take a hot shower, and I do. Just like that. Here, people use tanks of gas that need to be lit when cooking and showering. I had an old stove explode in my face in my first, shitty apartment in Allentown so this makes me a little uncomfortable. Plus, you never know when you're about to run out of gas or you worry that you might not have turned it off and the house will have blown up in your absence.
-Being understood. I can express what I need to here but obviously not as well as I can in English. Factor in also that people expect not to understand me because I have gringa written all over me. For example, I got into a colectivo the other day and said "Teatro Mauri." The driver said "Ehhh?" I said "Teatro Mauri." He looked at me like I had two heads and the guy next to me said "Teatro Mauri." "OHHHH, Teatro MAURI! Yapo." I said it right, I know it, I even rolled my tongue, but only once because the single "r" is one glottal flap, just like I learned in phonetics. I wonder if people here think I am stupid or if they know that sometimes I can be funny. Sometimes I think I can't be the REAL me here and other times I think I can only be the real me, because I have nothing to lean on or hide behind; I can't be coy or use humor to deflect like I can in English.
-Paper products, soap and hot water in bathrooms. I am not a huge germaphobe but it's pretty skeevy that most bathrooms are not stocked with these products. And what's the point of washing my hands if there is nothing to dry them on? Actually, I have that beef with a lot of home bathrooms I've visited in the US too. People! Where are your hand towels?
-Dog diarrhea and dog erections. Not a pretty subject, I know. Oh, by the way, that falls under the Things That Drive Me Crazy about Chile category, not Things I Miss. Anyway, there are almost as many mangy mutts here as there are people. I think this illustration, expertly rendered by one of the little boys I live with, gives you a visual of one of the reasons this is so annoying. (Fijate por donde caminas=Watch where you walk.)
There is dog shit EVERYWHERE!!! You have to really pay attention while walking to avoid it. And these Chilean dogs have diarrhea a lot, it must be all the garbage they eat. Also, since these are wild dogs, none of them are fixed and a day does not go by that I don't see at least one in a heightened state of arousal. Gross. I mentioned the dog situation at a party a few weeks ago and related a story about my mother calling Animal Control to pick up the wild dogs outside of the school where she works. They all thought an office called Animal Control was one of the funniest things ever.
-Overemployment and Underpayment. In what I can only assume is a strategy for reducing unemployment, lots of people here have completely unnecessary jobs. I'm sure they aren't making much money but some mindless, senseless job must be created so that the government can say they are reducing the number of people without jobs. I first witnessed this when in Chiloe, buying a towel from a department store. I selected a towel, walked to the cash register and paid. Instead of the young man handing me my towel, he gave me a receipt, indicated that I should follow him across the room, where he handed off my towel to another useless employee and I had to wait in line to exchange this stupid ticket for my towel. Moronic.
-Actually, that last point leads into my next one well. Chileans are obsessed with receipts and tickets. If you buy a bottle of water, they will slowly, painstakingly write you a receipt for 300 pesos or whatever measly amount it is AND if you don't take it, they will chase you down, press it into your hand and tell you to GUARD IT!
-My, my, I am segue-ing nicely here! Chileans also seem to love telling people to watch their things. I think they must have an overinflated sense of danger. I'm sure there is some violent crime here but mostly what seems to go on is petty thievery. They must not know I am from the WEST SIDE, ok? Seriously, I don't walk around with money out or have a big camera, so LET IT REST! Just because I am a a gringa doesn't mean I have no street smarts. Interestingly, there is a sizable network of women from the US-living in Chile bloggers and some of them have touched on this subject. They mentioned that's just how it is in the US, you know, you can leave your laptop on the table in the cafe when you go to the bathroom. Huh? I wouldn't leave my pen on the table if I didn't want it stolen, here or at home.
As soon as I publish this, I will think of another point to make so I may be editing and updating this. And I'm sure my lovely family members who visited may have some things to add to this list so feel free to jump in!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Holler At Me
I am lonely and waiting for a letter from YOU! I have only received one piece of mail since I've been here, thank you Nicole! So, if you feel like writing to me, I will smile and you will make my day and then I will write nice things about you on here.
My new address is:
Subida El Peral 138
Cerro Alegre, Valparaiso, Chile
My new address is:
Subida El Peral 138
Cerro Alegre, Valparaiso, Chile
More on What I'm Eating, Have Eaten, Plan to Eat
Despite my somewhat dire previous posts, all is not inedible here in Chile. In fact, I've had some lovely meals but that's mostly because I had kind and generous visitors who are used to, umm, a step above my slummin'style of travel. As I mentioned before Mamma and Greg journeyed down here in the beginning of April. Our first foray into Chilean cuisine was at a lackluster little cafe, no that's being kind, cafeteria rather, on Plaza de Armas in Santiago. Mamma tried the congrio, which is the local fish about which Pablo Neruda waxed poetic. Neruda was also a fervent Stalinist so maybe that should be an indication that not all of his tastes are in line with mine. Anyway, it was oily, heavy and had an off-putting texture. Yuck. Greg got chicken a la cognac and I still have no idea what that says about the preparation because it looked like pretty regular chicken to me. I got the standard fried fish and mashed potatoes and then we all shared a most disgusting salad of iceberg lettuce and canned corn.
Things picked up on Day Two when we went to Bellavista, which is one of my favorite Santiago neighborhoods. It kind of reminds me of New Orleans but I say that about nearly every Spanish colonial city I've ever visited. Anyway, it's low-slung buildings with narrow doorways and decorative ironwork with a decidedly bohemian feel. At La Boheme (a French-Chilean fusion place and if you think that sounds weird, it is), I was proud to introduce M&G to the pisco sour. Pisco tastes to me like grown-up white grape juice, so naturally I love it, as anyone who remembers my White Grape-Peach phase would understand. A good pisco sour incorporates the spirit, lemon juice, egg white and sugar. It's simple, it's sweet, it's tart, it's fantastic. It's a bit like drinking lemon meringue pie, well, not quite as sweet but it uses the main ingredients of the oh-so-delicious dessert. I already know that I love the traditional pisco sour so when I have the opportunity to try a different iteration, I take it, obviopo. I had a chirimoya sour that might well be one of my favorite sour variations. What's chirimoya, who knows, google says its a custard apple, which doesn't illuminate matters much for me.
We also had a splendid rendition of moules frites after spying the colossal beauties on a nearby table. Later that night, we dined in a near-empty restaurant with fabulous Oriental rugs and Cher playing on a huge screen, to my mother's great pleasure. We started with OSTRICH carpaccio, which was delightful. Texturally, it reminded me of fresh tuna but flavor-wise, it was bigger and beefier. Speaking of beef, my cumin-rosemary scented filet was the main course hit. We were all too full for dessert but somehow Mamma managed to make enough room for a bag of potato chips once we got home :)
Sidenote about my mother. When I was 13, my best friend moved two blocks away on Ashland and Potomac, scary 'hood, right? I was thrilled to have my bestie so close but less-than elated when my 4 ft. 7 inch mother insisted on walking me there. I'm not sure why she thought that it was safer for her to walk alone than me, since I have about 2 feet and a million pounds on her but argue not with a Sicilian mother! They make no sense! Just do as they say! Anyway, I bring all this up to say that once we got home to our apartment in Santiago, my mother had a craving for potato chips. I, being the fabulous, attentive daughter that I am, suggested I run across the street to fetch a bag. Literally, I could step out of our doorman-attended building and spit on the store but my mother acted like I was suggesting donning some Lycra and going out to work the Alameda. She physically barred the door. I thought she was joking but once she let her guard down, I scooted out the door and could hear her wailing "Greg, STOP her! Nooooooooooo!" Upon my return, about 2.5 minutes later, chips in hand, I opened the door on a very somber Mamma, who immediately let out a huge breath, clasped her heart dramatically and said "LAILA!" Does my mother not know I have been out on streets at night before? Does my mother think this is the first time I have ventured solo in Chile? Is she crazy? Yes, yes, she is. She is so cute. Anyway, that was a long note, moving on...
Well, the next few days, we dined sumptuously on machas a la parmesean and sipped pisco sours on various patios overlooking the beautiful bay. We had some seriously amazing Greek food, odd, I know, in a restaurant owned by a Chilean, whose family fled to Switzerland during the political upheaval in the 1970s, followed by time in the US to attend culinary school. As Greg put it, "My man is full of beans" and he was definitely a smooth-talking bullshitter. More on that in another post. Regardless, the moussaka and baklava were outstanding, as was the ouzo sour.
Other standout meals, or dishes of the week included the broiled clams with ginger and lime, duck ravioli with port and dried cherries and salmon ravioli with curry and spinach at Pasta E Vino. In fact, we liked dinner so much, that we went back again the next night, although the clams weren't as tasty and I got strawberry gnocchi with a champagne sauce and clams. Does that sound revolting? Because it was. Over at one of my favorite blogs, 101 Cookbooks, Heidi, who I have the utmost respect for, traveled to Chile last year, ate at Pasta e Vino and apparently enjoyed said ravioli. This did not sound like a winning combination to me for a number of reasons. Can you really transport the ethereal, fresh taste of strawberries into a ball of dough? I think not. Also, I love champagne, but let's be honest, any time it is used for something besides drinking, it is absolute pretentiousness. And finally, strawberries, champagne and CLAMS? Christ, I hope I don't need to explain why that is completely abhorrent. Heidi, you let me down, don't let it happen again! I kid, I kid, in fairness, she did not say they were delicious, I'm sure she had them clam-less as she is vegetarian and her post is actually about making peach gnocchi. But whatever. The nice thing about this meal was that a wine we had by the glass the night before and LOVED was unavailable but once the sommelier was summoned, a call was made and the bottle appeared at our table within minutes. I felt very special and would also like to note that I cannot afford restaurants in the US with sommeliers on staff.
We had lunch at the Greek's the next day and I had this tres leches cake that I would gladly eat for the rest of my life. Sadly, I'll never have it again because I went for dinner there with some friends a few weeks back and the Greek was in fine form, or rather he was pissy drunk and extremely scary. A terrified employee basically told us to get out after we heard plates crashing and saw waving fists so I don't think I'll be going back there, not even for that wonderful cake.
That's it, I think I've been writing this blog for the past two hours and I still haven't gotten to what I am currently eating. So it goes with blogging, I start out one way and it turns out another. You'll just have to wait until next time for more exciting adventures involving fried eggs and Nutella.
Things picked up on Day Two when we went to Bellavista, which is one of my favorite Santiago neighborhoods. It kind of reminds me of New Orleans but I say that about nearly every Spanish colonial city I've ever visited. Anyway, it's low-slung buildings with narrow doorways and decorative ironwork with a decidedly bohemian feel. At La Boheme (a French-Chilean fusion place and if you think that sounds weird, it is), I was proud to introduce M&G to the pisco sour. Pisco tastes to me like grown-up white grape juice, so naturally I love it, as anyone who remembers my White Grape-Peach phase would understand. A good pisco sour incorporates the spirit, lemon juice, egg white and sugar. It's simple, it's sweet, it's tart, it's fantastic. It's a bit like drinking lemon meringue pie, well, not quite as sweet but it uses the main ingredients of the oh-so-delicious dessert. I already know that I love the traditional pisco sour so when I have the opportunity to try a different iteration, I take it, obviopo. I had a chirimoya sour that might well be one of my favorite sour variations. What's chirimoya, who knows, google says its a custard apple, which doesn't illuminate matters much for me.
We also had a splendid rendition of moules frites after spying the colossal beauties on a nearby table. Later that night, we dined in a near-empty restaurant with fabulous Oriental rugs and Cher playing on a huge screen, to my mother's great pleasure. We started with OSTRICH carpaccio, which was delightful. Texturally, it reminded me of fresh tuna but flavor-wise, it was bigger and beefier. Speaking of beef, my cumin-rosemary scented filet was the main course hit. We were all too full for dessert but somehow Mamma managed to make enough room for a bag of potato chips once we got home :)
Sidenote about my mother. When I was 13, my best friend moved two blocks away on Ashland and Potomac, scary 'hood, right? I was thrilled to have my bestie so close but less-than elated when my 4 ft. 7 inch mother insisted on walking me there. I'm not sure why she thought that it was safer for her to walk alone than me, since I have about 2 feet and a million pounds on her but argue not with a Sicilian mother! They make no sense! Just do as they say! Anyway, I bring all this up to say that once we got home to our apartment in Santiago, my mother had a craving for potato chips. I, being the fabulous, attentive daughter that I am, suggested I run across the street to fetch a bag. Literally, I could step out of our doorman-attended building and spit on the store but my mother acted like I was suggesting donning some Lycra and going out to work the Alameda. She physically barred the door. I thought she was joking but once she let her guard down, I scooted out the door and could hear her wailing "Greg, STOP her! Nooooooooooo!" Upon my return, about 2.5 minutes later, chips in hand, I opened the door on a very somber Mamma, who immediately let out a huge breath, clasped her heart dramatically and said "LAILA!" Does my mother not know I have been out on streets at night before? Does my mother think this is the first time I have ventured solo in Chile? Is she crazy? Yes, yes, she is. She is so cute. Anyway, that was a long note, moving on...
Well, the next few days, we dined sumptuously on machas a la parmesean and sipped pisco sours on various patios overlooking the beautiful bay. We had some seriously amazing Greek food, odd, I know, in a restaurant owned by a Chilean, whose family fled to Switzerland during the political upheaval in the 1970s, followed by time in the US to attend culinary school. As Greg put it, "My man is full of beans" and he was definitely a smooth-talking bullshitter. More on that in another post. Regardless, the moussaka and baklava were outstanding, as was the ouzo sour.
Other standout meals, or dishes of the week included the broiled clams with ginger and lime, duck ravioli with port and dried cherries and salmon ravioli with curry and spinach at Pasta E Vino. In fact, we liked dinner so much, that we went back again the next night, although the clams weren't as tasty and I got strawberry gnocchi with a champagne sauce and clams. Does that sound revolting? Because it was. Over at one of my favorite blogs, 101 Cookbooks, Heidi, who I have the utmost respect for, traveled to Chile last year, ate at Pasta e Vino and apparently enjoyed said ravioli. This did not sound like a winning combination to me for a number of reasons. Can you really transport the ethereal, fresh taste of strawberries into a ball of dough? I think not. Also, I love champagne, but let's be honest, any time it is used for something besides drinking, it is absolute pretentiousness. And finally, strawberries, champagne and CLAMS? Christ, I hope I don't need to explain why that is completely abhorrent. Heidi, you let me down, don't let it happen again! I kid, I kid, in fairness, she did not say they were delicious, I'm sure she had them clam-less as she is vegetarian and her post is actually about making peach gnocchi. But whatever. The nice thing about this meal was that a wine we had by the glass the night before and LOVED was unavailable but once the sommelier was summoned, a call was made and the bottle appeared at our table within minutes. I felt very special and would also like to note that I cannot afford restaurants in the US with sommeliers on staff.
We had lunch at the Greek's the next day and I had this tres leches cake that I would gladly eat for the rest of my life. Sadly, I'll never have it again because I went for dinner there with some friends a few weeks back and the Greek was in fine form, or rather he was pissy drunk and extremely scary. A terrified employee basically told us to get out after we heard plates crashing and saw waving fists so I don't think I'll be going back there, not even for that wonderful cake.
That's it, I think I've been writing this blog for the past two hours and I still haven't gotten to what I am currently eating. So it goes with blogging, I start out one way and it turns out another. You'll just have to wait until next time for more exciting adventures involving fried eggs and Nutella.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Valparaiso: Not for the Disabled
This is part on an ongoing installation I am working on. I don't know how old people live here, but they do, ambling up hills wiht their bags from the market. Also amazing to me in this city is the number of people on permanent-looking crutches and scooting around legless on scooters. How do they do it? Incredible.
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