West Side Story

Last night our friends Len and Ginny took us to see West Side Story at the Walnut Street Theater. Of all musicals, WSS is the one I most wanted to see on stage and the performace we saw was as wonderful as I had hoped. The lead roles of Tony and Maria were played by actors (Michael Gillis and Christina Decicco) with beautiful, powerful voices, with the chemistry needed to bring their love and passion to life. Other actors were equally good. The set was fantastic and the orchestra was able to deliver a much more powerful sound than you might have expected from a 14-piece ensemble. But, of course, the star of this show is the show itself. There is no better score than that written by Leonard Bernstein. Even without words, dancing, and acting, the music tells an unforgettable story. The lyrics by Stephen Sondheim are equally amazing, giving us beautiful, memorable songs. And Jerome Robbins' choreography, preserved through the years, is just dazzling. The cast of young actors danced with a great deal of energy and emotion.

Before the show, we had a wonderful dinner at La Boheme, a restaurant on 11th street, only a few blocks from the theater. With dinner, we shared a bottle of Drylands 2004 Sauvignon Blanc, another excellent Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough region of New Zealand. This is fast becoming one of our favorite types of wine. Could a trip to New Zealand be in our future?

Wedded bliss

Our wedding day. 
One of my very favorite things is being married to Garrett. Today we celebrated 3 years of wedded bliss, and remembered that most perfect of days when we got married. May 26, 2002.  

My Sister's Keeper

I confess. I couldn’t put this book down. It was like reading a crime novel, one of those stories where there are countless coincidences and unbelievable events mixed with high drama and some sort of mystery to puzzle out. But that wasn’t why I read this book. I thought the premise of this book was so interesting: a child conceived for the purpose of providing stem cells/bone marrow for her sister who has leukemia, decides at age 13 that she wants to be medically emancipated. The problem is that Jodi Picoult can’t seem to tell an inherently compelling story like this without burdening it with a thousand other overly dramatic complications, starting with the fact that. Anna isn’t merely conceived, she’s a “designer baby” selected from a number of embryos because she has the right genetic makeup. I won’t give away the other myriad complications; suffice it to say that few, if any, of the characters come away unscathed by coincidence. Which brings up another problem with this book. I value novels that develop strong, multidimensional characters. The characters in this book, however, are two-dimensional, i.e., they have a light and a dark side, but there is little of the subtlety or nuance that make up good, true-to-life characters.

Based on the other Picoult books I’ve read (Plain Truth and Salem Falls), My Sister’s Keeper keeps to a tried and true formula: start with an interesting, important, and relevant social phenomenon and craft a legal thriller around it. In my opinion, this book goes way over the top in the “thriller” category, leaving the essential story and the characters to founder in a mess of improbabilities.

Sleep Toward Heaven

Amanda Eyre Ward’s debut novel, Sleep Toward Heaven, is a very good book, combining great character development with crisp writing and vivid scenes. In only 291 fast-moving pages, Ward tells three interwoven stories, each one filled with tragedy, pathos, and often, humor. The three central characters are all fully realized: Karen, a woman on Death Row who is in a race to see if AIDS will take her before the lethal injection; Celia, the widow of Karen’s last murder victim; and Franny, a doctor working in the prison trying to save Karen’s life. Other characters also play memorable roles… Henry, Celia’s murdered husband; The Satan Killer and Black Widow, Karen’s fellow inmates on Death Row; Rick, the lawyer who defended Karen. These characters populate unforgettable scenes, such as the one where Celia is in line at the post office, waiting to mail a letter to Karen.

The people in line started chatting, as will sometimes happen in cramped spaces like buses when the driver gets off to go to the bathroom leaving you stranded at some curb, and (I have heard) submarines. There was one woman with a large package that, she announced, was candy for her niece at summer camp. Holding up an enormous overnight envelope, a boy confided he was sending his first novel to a literary agent. Like we were in a group therapy session, a man piped in that he was mailing a book about plants to his mother in Topeka; a tween said she was mailing a letter to the Spice Girls Fan Club (I have ready about these “tweens” in Time Magazine, these twelve-to-fourteen year olds who are running our economy); a girl bashfully admitted she was sending a love letter to her boyfriend, home for the summer in Maine. “I promised I’d write every day,” said the girl, blushing. “But I ran out of stamps.”

I’d been smiling away, listening to everyone’s confessions, nodding encouragement, and when the silence fell, they looked to me. The line still had quite a way to go. I lifted my gaze to the posters of stamps on the wall. I pretended to be deeply interested in the Marilyn Monroe Collector’s Edition Stamp Set.

“How about you?” said the wannabe novelist, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. “What’s up with your letter?”

First of all, it’s illegal to ask questions like that. I’m sorry, but it is. Secondly, I could see his little brain turning: Wow, is this going to be a great short story! I’ll call it “At the Post Office,” or “Fed-Exing My Heart.” I clutched my envelope.

“Uh,” I said. The group therapy post office line looked at me expectantly. The candy lady hefted her package to her hip. Topeka man raised his eyebrows encouragingly.

I decided to play it straight. (This was when my sanity began to come into question. Maureen would have told me I could have demurely mentioned “a pen pal” and let the matter rest. But I did not.) “Well,” I said, holding up the letter, which was neatly packaged in a clean white envelope, the kind I use to send student loan checks and bank deposits. “I wrote a letter to the woman who murdered my husband. She’s on Death Row.”

This passage is so true and so revelatory. The mundane details about standing in line at the post office provide a dramatic contrast to Celia’s letter, making this an incredibly powerful scene (or at least, I think it is). I suspect that Ward is a master short story writer, because she packs an incredible amount of content and character into every scene. And despite the sad subject matter, this book is ultimately hopeful. I hope Ward’s next book is as good as this one.

My PB

Like Trevor, I achieved a personal best this weekend when I participated in the 94th annual Bay to Breakers race in San Francisco. If you look carefully…



I completed the 7.5 mile course in two hours and forty-five minutes, but my real PB was having done it at all. No, I didn’t run, not even a step, but then neither did most of the 65,000 people in the so-called race. I walked as fast as I could, given the crowds. The dreaded Hayes Street Hill is a piece of cake if you don’t have to run.

What possessed me to do it? Physical exercise is definitely not one of my favorite things. But it seemed like good practice for the upcoming Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, which I am planning to do on July 9th and 10th. (That course is about four times the length of the Bay to Breakers.) Check out my blog, walk the walk.

Next year I’m determined to shave seconds off my time.

Firing Meet 2005

Today Lisa spent time with me doing one of my favorite things. Watch Trevor and his teammates from Oley Valley HS run. It was a goregous day, and even though Trev had "heavy legs" he ran a couple of PBs (personal best times). Here's a picture of the start of the 800 meter run. Trevor ended up in sixth place in the county.


posted by Garrett

Do fish have cheeks?

I never had known that fish have cheeks, so I was surprised when Cafe Mosaic had halibut cheeks as a special last night. But knowing that Chef Mike Pezzillo was likely to come up with something extraordinary, I ordered them. I was not disappointed. He prepared them with white asparagus and morel mushrooms in a delectable tomato pinot noir sauce. I love halibut anyway, and this preparation was really different. The cheeks are a bit more tender than steaks or filets that I have had, but every bit as tasty. And the sauce... well, as usual, Chef Mike outdid himself with the sauce. The dish was excellent with the Blackstone pinot noir we brought with us.

Garrett had another one of my favorite dishes there, seared diver scallops with ginger-braised shittake mushrooms, baby bok choy, and sake pan sauce. They were so good that he didn't even want more than a couple of small bites of my halibut cheeks.

I'm sorry I forgot to take my camera with me, because the chefs at Mosaic do a beautiful presentation. We are really looking forward to their upcoming wine dinner on June 5, featuring wines from New Zealand and Australia. Kristen gave us a sneak peak at the menu and it sounds amazing and unusual.

Blink

Malcolm Gladwell's new book, Blink, did not grab me the way that The Tipping Point did, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Like The Tipping Point, Blink is full of examples from history, psychology, and other social sciences that illustrate Gladwell's theses about the power of intuition and how our unconscious influences our conscious decisions and thoughts. He paints a rather bleak picture of the prospects for overcoming racism and other prejudices, although he does end the book with a chapter about how, by listening with our ears rather than our eyes, we might be able to see people for who they truly are, rather than through the lens of our own prejudices. This point, and others he makes throughout the book, made me wonder about the influence of electronic communication on our relationships. When you first meet or even when you develop a relationship with someone over e-mail, those first impressions that can set the trajectory of your relationship are totally different from those when you meet in person.

There is a really interesting chapter about military decision making that everyone should read, as it casts the war in Iraq in a new light. And for the musical among you, have you ever heard of Kenna? Gladwell devotes a whole chapter to his non-meteoric rise in popularity. I think where Blink falls short of Tipping Point is just in its scope: rather than talking about broad social phenomena, Gladwell is here talking about personal, individual decisions. But a very worthwhile book.

Hot stuff

Another great meal, this one hot and spicy. On our trip to the Italian Market last week, we picked up some poblano chiles, tomatillos, and red peppers. I made roasted tomatillo salsa to go with the tamales we had gotten at Taqueria La Veracruzanas. Couldn't find serrano chiles at the grocery store so I used jalapenos, thinking it wouldn't be as hot; but it was pretty spicy anyway. (The jalapenos were in the freezer, maybe freezing them brings out the spiciness?) Anyway, the salsa was really easy and delicious. Then last night, I made cheese and shrimp stuffed poblanos with red bell pepper sauce.

Somewhere I read that the correct way to roast peppers is to film them with oil before blackening them on the grill; and also that if you are roasting peppers to stuff that they should only be blistered rather than blackened. The grillmaster (Garrett) followed these instructions and the peppers did come out much better, easier to peel, and definitely retained their shape better for stuffing. For the stuffing, I used about 6 oz. of grated pepper jack cheese rather than the combination of goat cheese and and panela cheese. I also used 4 red bell peppers rather than 2 in the sauce, but kept everything else the same (I misread the recipe). This dish is incredibly beautiful and quite delicious, but not for those who don't like a little kick in their food. We have a lot of sauce left over, so I need to figure out what else to use it with. Any suggestions?

In spite of the fact that it's a corporate sponsored holiday, I celebrate mother's day because I love being a mother. Here's why: two amazingly wonderful sons, Josh (on the right), and Noah.

Good dinner, great friends

Rick and Faye came over for dinner last night and were forced to sit for a couple of hours watching Garrett and me cook. It was worth the wait. Using organically raised lamb we had gotten from Hendricks Farm and Dairy, we made tamarind-glazed lamb skewers with dried apricot relish, a recipe I found on epicurious.com. Delicious! And really, not as difficult as I'm making it sound. Definitely will make it again and again. Accompanying the lamb, we made another epicurious recipe, chickpea salad with parsley, lemon, and sun-dried tomatoes. This is really super simple and can serve as a great one-dish meal for lunch. Both dishes went extremely well with the two zinfandels we opened: a 2002 Vintners blend from Ravenswood and a 2003 old vines zin from Sobon Estate in Amador county, California, one of the wineries we plan to visit on our trip to California this summer. These two wines are very different, with the old vines being much more concentrated and somewhat sweeter. Both are delicious. As usual, the combination of good food, wine, and great friends made for a wonderful evening.

Ellie... another one of my favorite things. 

Truth and Beauty

Is truth and beauty what this book is really about? Going into it, I knew that the book, by Ann Patchett, was about her friendship with fellow writer, Lucy Grealy. Patchett and Grealy became friends at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and went on to both become successful authors. Patchett wrote Bel Canto, which I loved, and Grealy became famous for her book, Autobiography of a Face, the incredible story of disfigurement that accompanied the successful (in terms of saving her life) treatment of Ewing’s sarcoma when she was a child.

I expected to be inspired, awed, by the truth and beauty of their friendship, but instead I was mystified and somewhat sickened. Yes, their love for each other was intense; but what comes through even more strongly than that is the fact that Lucy was a master manipulator and sucked the life out of the friends around her. She was one of those people who demands and receives the ardent admiration, love, and support of her friends; but nothing they do for her is ever enough. She extracts everything she can, yet they keep coming back for more. Why? Was is because Lucy shined so brightly that her friends wanted to bask in her brilliance, hoping that some of it would rub off? Did people feel such empathy and admiration for all she had gone through that they would allow her to get away with anything? It certainly seemed that Lucy endured countless terrible, mutilating surgical procedures that one would only expect to read about in a horror novel. But in the end, Patchett explains her loyalty to Lucy this way: “Even when Lucy was devastated or difficult, she was the person I knew best in the world, the person I was the most comfortable with. Whenever I saw her, I felt like I had been living in another country, doing moderately well in another language, and then she showed up speaking English and suddenly I could speak with all the complexity and nuance that I hadn't even realized was gone. With Lucy I was a native speaker."

So maybe there is truth and beauty there.

The best deal in town

Yesterday, Garrett and I stopped in at Taqueria La Veracruzanas on Washington Ave., at the end of the Italian Market in Philly. The food there is amazing and cheap. I got two dozen tamales ($1.25 each), thinking we could eat a few and put the rest in the freezer (as we've done before). Wow! Two dozen is a lot of tamales at the Taqueria because they are huge. I could only eat one, although Garrett managed to get two down. We had a mix of green and red tamales and both of us preferred the green, but both are good , with a spicy pork filling. Our freezer is now stuffed!

The Map of Love

The central love story in The Map of Love, by Adhaf Soueif, by itself would have been enough to keep me enthralled, with its passion played out against a backdrop of political and cultural upheaval in the Ottoman empire. But Soueif takes this 19th century tale further by telling it though the lens of women living in Egypt and the United States in the late 20th century, when the political landscape has changed almost as much as it has remained the same. This book offers a fascinating look at life in Egypt (especially for women) at the turn of the century as seen through the eyes of Anna, an Englishwoman. As Anna's great grand-daughter, Isabel, and grand-niece, Amal, try to piece Anna's story together, they face many of the same obstacles and triumphs that Anna experienced. Unfortunately, Isabel and Amal are not drawn with nearly as much depth or clarity as Anna herself. The book ends with many unanswered questions. No doubt this was intentional, and I can't help wondering if Soueif intends to write a sequel that will tell the story of the lost years between Anna's life and Isabel's/Amal's. Or, maybe I just missed something in the first reading.... I think I will have to read this book again to catch things I may have missed. I kept hoping the contemporary love story would develop even half of the passion of Anna's, but circumstances (some quite unlikely) kept this out of reach. Nevertheless, I would highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys historical fiction and learning about different cultures.