Chicago, 2/18/06

A great city, but oh so cold. We braved the frigid temperatures on Saturday to see a bit of the city. I can say from personal experience that Millenium Park is more fun in the summer, when the fountains are flowing, but it still has a certain je ne sais quoi in the Winter.

The Museum of Contemporary Photography had a great exhibition on industrialization in China. If you happen to be in Chicago before March 4, check it out. If not, at least take a peek at the website.

The highlight of our weekend was seeing the ballet, Romeo & Juliet, performed by the Joffrey Ballet at the Auditorium theater. Wow! Everything about the performance was exquisite, from the theater itself to the music, choreography, costumes, sets, and of course, the dancers. Michael Levine and Julianne Kepley were rapturous as the star-crossed lovers, and the supporting cast was equally stunning, performing with enormous energy and passion.

It was my sister Julie’s inspired idea to treat my Dad to the ballet for Christmas. I think all 11 of us who went had a great time, despite the bitter cold (did I mention that before?) The Company just announced their 2006-2007 lineup, and it looks pretty great. Anyone up for another trip to Chicago?

Into Thin Air

I am not much of an adventurer, but I do like reading about the experiences of other people who push their levels of endurance beyond what I would even consider. Into Thin Air, by Jon Krakauer, is a book that fits into this category. For the life of me, I can’t understand why someone would subject himself to the tremendous risk and agonizing physical conditions that are a part of climbing Mt. Everest. So you get to be one of only a few dozen human beings ever to stand on the top of the world for five minutes. That, the beautiful vistas, and the overall challenge, I guess is enough for the adventuresome among us. I myself prefer cozy hotel rooms and delicious food when I travel.

In any case, the book that Krakauer wrote about his 1996 expedition to Mt. Everest, which resulted in the deaths of 12 climbers (not all of them from his group), is beautifully written, terribly sad, and at the same time, an amazing testament to the human spirit. Since I listened to, rather than read, this book I cannot give you any examples of the vividness of his descriptions or the precise way he chooses words to convey the actions and underlying emotions of the protagonists in this story. He gives what I think is a very balanced account of the mistakes people made as well as the bad luck they encountered, and he does so in a non-blaming way, pointing out that there are no easy explanations for the tragedy that resulted from a complex combination of factors, including the fact that all the climbers were severely impaired by oxygen deprivation. He points the most accusing finger at himself for not managing to save some of the other climbers. At least when he wrote this book, he was still wallowing in what was to me, undeserving survivor’s guilt.

Krakauer’s original mission was to write a story about the commercialization of Everest for Outside magazine. What he found included fields at 27,000 feet (give or take) strewn with discarded oxygen canisters (not to mention, corpses), poorly prepared (but very wealthy) people paying huge sums to be shepherded up the mountain, and long lines of people waiting in line for their chance to use fixed ropes to get up the steepest inclines. The trashing of Everest is a magnification of what we see in our national parks every day – only 98 people summitted Everest in 1996, compared to the thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, who visit a place like Yosemite each year.

Fifteen people died in their quest to scale the world's highest peak in 1996, making it the worst year in history, according to this site. Beyond the enormity of this tragedy, there are important lessons in this book for all of us who visit, and appreciate, our wilderness areas, even the faint-hearted like me. Thank you Jon Krakauer, for baring your soul to the rest if us.

An Early Valentine's Day Celebration

The snowstorm threatened to derail our food-filled weekend, but although out Saturday plans for a Shiraz tasting and dinner were postponed, the Sweetheart’s Wine and Food Tasting at Café Mosaic was held as planned. Unfortunately, we thought it began at 6 although it actually began at 5. Fortunately, Kristen (co-owner of Mosaic) called us when we hadn’t arrived by 5:30, and the staff slowed down the service to everyone else to allow us to catch up by the time the soup was served. More proof that it pays to know the owners. We are always treated like royalty when we go to Café Mosaic, which is one of the reasons we keep on going. The other reason, of course, is the wonderful food we always get when we go there. Tonight was no exception.

The first course, “Flirtation,” was a fried oyster in a Rockefeller dipping sauce. The breading was light and crispy and the sauce delicious. A nice, dry, Botter Prosecco di Valdobbiadene from Venice accompanied this hors d’oeuvre.

Next came the “French Kiss,” a delightful salad of butter lettuce with Roquefort cheese, pickled pearl onions, and pomegranate seeds with a pommeray mustard vinaigrette flavored with lavender honey. The contrasting tastes and textures were wonderful. This course, and the soup that followed it, were accompanied by a dry Riesling from Michel Fonn in Alsace, France. It was good, although both Garrett and I thought we have had Rieslings with more flavor that could have stood up better to the many flavors in the dishes we were served.

The “Tantric Dreams” course consisted of a Golden Thai lobster soup. Exquisite. The texture of the soup was so silky, with a multitude of flavors from lobster, coconut milk, lemongrass, and ginger. Floating on top of the soup was a lobster medallion, shaved truffles, and a bit of cilantro. Yum.

The main “Desires” course consisted of seared Ahi tuna, served with an absolutely luscious sauce made from Napa valley foie gras. The tuna was topped with matchstick pieces of crunchy Asian pear, and served with a wasabi rice croquette and braised asparagus. The wasabi flavor in the rice cake was a little too subtle, but otherwise this course was really delicious. It was served with a Terra d’Aligi Cerasulo wine from Abruzzi, Italy. This rosé wine was not very exciting. Both Garrett and I thought either a red (maybe a Pinot Noir) or white wine (e.g., one of our favorite Marlborough Sauvignon Blancs) would have made a better match.

By the time the dessert course, “Passions”, came, we were stuffed; but we manage to consume a beautiful and playful chocolate ganache bleeding heart brownie served with chocolate gelato, raspberry sauce, and a long stemmed strawberry. Dessert was served with an excellent JanKris Winery Cabernet Sauvignon from Paso Robles, California. This was our favorite wine of the evening, but the flavor was muted next to the intense chocolate flavors.

All in all, a wonderful evening, delicious flavors, and lots of fun.

Never Let Me Go

If Kazuo Ishiguro had set his most recent novel, Never Let Me Go, in the future, it would have seemed liked a cautionary tale about where science is taking us, but we would have been able to dismiss it as science fiction or fantasy. Instead, he sets it in the present (actually, the 1990s), transforming the story into something frighteningly real and current, despite the fact that the science upon which it is based, human cloning, is nowhere near reality here in 2006. Or so we believe.

Beyond what I’ve said already, I can’t tell you what this story is about without giving it away. One of the wonderful aspects of this book is the way Ishiguro feeds us information gradually, just as the characters come to a gradual realization of what their lives are all about. I was drawn in, compelled to continue reading so that I might understand the mystery of their lives.

So you’ll just have to read it yourself, and then we can talk. All I can say is that it’s definitely worth a read. Ishiguro has a way of telling stories that is simultaneously simple and complex, and in the end, very provocative.

After you’ve read it, call me.