Books: Kitchen Confidential

Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential **** - This reminds me of House of God except it takes place in the chef's world, not the doctor's world.  My peers and I always talk about "what if people knew what it was like behind the lines as a physician?" would that scare patients away?  Anthony Bourdain attacks this book with the same premise, explaining how he fell in love for food and his attempts to succeed as a chef.  I wouldn't be surprised if it scares the run-of-the-mill consumer or aspiring chef.  The stories are extremely personal but portray an honest look at what it is like "in the trenches."  It's a story of highs and being high and reaching the lowest of lows.  A lot.  He tells it in a way only he can.  He's honest, brutal, and hilarious.  When he goes into the inner details of a Friday lunch rush and language of kitchen-speak, you can feel that a kitchen is a battleground with everyone sweating, bleeding, and trying to keep sane.  He offers insight and advice, including why one shouldn't eat sushi on Mondays.  The chapter on what happens when there's a lull (or the calm before the storm) is absolutely priceless.  On the heels of reading The Omnivore's Dilemma, which gave me a new found appreciation of food as we know it and its origin and creation, Kitchen Confidential gives me a new appreciation for the hard work and underappreciated work of a chef and his kitchen army.  I realize I can never appreciate food the way a chef can.  Finally, this book makes me realize that Anthony Bourdain is a well-read, intelligent, and fantastic writer who is absolutely fucking hysterical.  And crazy at times.  I loved this book.

Trips: Baseball & Beaches in Florida

You'd think that with Florida one state away, I would've made more trips there by now.  All I know is that my week there reminded me how great a state Florida is.  

I spent 6 days in Florida, from March 16 to March 21.  The whole trip was based on catching MLB spring training for the first time, in particular, the Yankees.  Sure, there are still two MLB stadiums there to which I haven't been.  But both those stadiums currently suck.  New ventures will lead to the building of new stadiums by 2012, I believe.  Hopefully by then, those will be the last MLB stadiums I'll need to visit.  Actually, add the Rogers Centre in Toronto. 

The worst days were the driving the days.  On March 16, I drove about 7 hours from Atlanta to Tampa.  An easy drive; it's basically 75 South forever.  Less complicated but more boring.  I got to Tampa by early afternoon.  I checked into a Holiday Inn.  Quite surprised: roomy and literally walking distance to George M. Steinbrenner Field.  After a nap, I made by way to the stadium.  Somehow inaccessible from the same side of street, a stranger I met and I had to cross to the other side of the street to take a walking bridge back towards the field.  

I must say spring training is so much fun.  Tons of fans come down to Florida for the experience.  Though I felt at home with the Yankees faithful, the park was still infiltrated by fans of other teams, proudly wearing the opposing gear.  The opportunity to see players up close is better than even at batting practice before season games.  Though Yankees stadium is a little stricter in that respect, it was still pretty neat.  That first game against the Orioles, I saw up close both Jeter and A-Rod getting interviewed by YES announcer Michael Kay.  I was surprised to see that the Yanks starting line-up was pretty much all their starters: Jeter, Swisher, Teixeira, A-Rod, Cano, Posada, Granderson, and Gardner.  The first game was a lot of fun.  An even more relaxed atmosphere if possible, together with warm weather and junk food.  Can't beat that.  Well, yes you can.  The Yankees won 10-0. 

The next day, I drove down to St. Petersburg to see the new Dali Museum.  I had been with Kendra years ago.  Considering that one of my favorite paintings, The Hallucinogenic Toreador, a masterwork, is there, I was eager to go back.  The renovations were in keeping with Dali's style; the outside architectural renovations and the inside spiral staircase were really neat.  Once inside, I saw all the workers, but really went back to admire my favorite work.  Sigh.  Since I had some time to spare, I walked on over to the Chihuly Collection, as recommended by both Kendra and David.  (Interestingly, many streets were closed as they were preparing for an IRL road race a week later.)  That collection was pretty neat too.  I didn't know too much about Chihuly but got to see and appreciate his works.  A very neat museum.  I also realized that a crazy glass sculpture that I vividly remember from Mohegan Sun from years back is a Chihuly piece.   After a quick rest at Vinoy Park, I made my way back to Tampa.  Caught the Yanks vs. Rays.  A great game.  A-Rod homered for a second night in a row.  Though the Yanks trailed for most of the game, Swisher hit a 2-run HR in the bottom of the 7th inning to steal the win. 

I woke up early on Friday and drove almost an hour west towards Dunedin.  Though this trip was planned around baseball, I did my research and definitely wanted to hit up some new beaches.  Since Kendra and I beach-hopped throughout this area years ago, I decided to seek out a few new ones.  I went to Caladesi Beach.  It is accessible by boat from Honeymoon Park.  Well worth the trip.  I was one of ten people on the first ferry.  For a small fee, you can a nice boat ride in the sun, drove through orange mangroves, and then dock in a secluded ferry.  Five minutes later you're on a pristine white-sand beach.  Walk a mile or so in either direction and you're sure to find seclusion.  That's what I did.  Beautiful and desolate.  Best beach for seashells and bird-watching.  Even dolphin-watching.  For truly escaping, this might be my favorite beach in the United States.  Outside of picking a spot under a palm tree and relaxing, I didn't have many goals this day.  And it was fine by me!

On Saturday, I checked out of the hotel and caught a matinee game with the Yanks vs. Jays.  Freddy Garcia was okay.  Jeter played like Derek Fucking Jeter, going 3-for-3 and a stolen base (this is a reference to an Onion article Joel sent me.)  A great fun game, in particular, I was amused by an older drunk man who seemed to think I was in his seat though he was in the wrong section.  Though my neighbor and I pointed him to the right section, he walked in the wrong direction only to be disappointed again.  "Probably drinks like Mick," said the guy next to me.  Next I drove an hour or so to Sarasota.  I checked into my hotel, the Lido Beach Resort on Lido Key.  I headed straight to the beach.  Talk about white sand beach.  I thought Caladesi Beach was white sand.  Lido Key seemed whiter and finer.  I pulled out my blanket and relaxed.  I took tons of pictures as I watched a brilliant sunset.  I ate Subway on the beach.  I watched CNN before bed.  

On Sunday, I figured with the masses home for the weekend and with limited parking at Siesta Key, I better make my way early and check this place out.  I got there before 9 AM and the lot was pretty full.  There were hundreds of people on the beach, there walking the entire length for morning exercise.  But it was peaceful and quiet since it was a long stretch of sand.  Ahhh, Siesta Key Beach.  This is the finest white sand beach I've ever set foot upon.  You know when you open a bag of flour and look inside?  That's the kind of fine white sand I'm talking about.  I walked the beach from end to end barefoot.  And yes, it was another pristine day.  I found a completely removed spot, away from the volleyball courts, and parked my butt down.  I read and relaxed.  I ran to the water.  The water was incredibly clear and calm.  I can see why this is consistently rated as one of the country's best beaches.  I'd support that argument.  I was completely amused by a really small boy who kept running at pigeons with a stick in his hand, screaming "Charge!"  He did this over and over, maybe a hundred times.  He never caught a pigeon.  But I kept routing for him.  There was also a nice refreshment stand to visit once dehydration was becoming a factor.  I spent the majority of my day here.  Awesome, awesome beach.  I made it back to my hotel.  I relaxed.  I worked out.  I watched the sunset from one of the hotel's balconies.  I made the most out of my day.  I deliberated heavily on staying one more night.  But I decided to stick with the plan and leave on Monday.  It wasn't so much that I wanted to leave on Monday.  It was that I liked the idea of decompressing in Atlanta on Tuesday. 

Monday morning I went for a stroll down to South Lido Key.  A nice relaxing walk.  I felt like a little walking and exercise on the beach one last time on my final morning would be a nice contrast to being stagnant in a car for eight hours of driving.  I did the drive home.  Not too bad. 

This trip was a blast.  A nice little trip to sandwich in between Cabo and Hawaii.  Boy, I'm lucky to be able to utter that sentence.  I may have to hit up Florida at least once a year.  So what would my next trip to Florida be?  Well, lots of trips to choose from: Miami, The Everglades, and the Florida Keys to name a few.  I like those options.  Georgia, I'm glad you're neighbors with Florida!

Music: 03/27/11

Eisley's The Valley *** - They're not ground-breaking, but no one sounds like them.  Great.  Jennifer Hudson's I Remember Me *** - Full of soul and grove.  She knows what she does well and she proceeds to do it well.  Lykke Li's Wounded Rhymes **** - It took a second listen on a rainy Sunday for this album to click.  Brilliant.  Telekinesis' 12 Desperate Straight Lines ** - Fun, energetic, and indie.  Not bad.  The Strokes' Angles *** - Oh, it's so good to hear them back.  They still rock.  I'm not sure if there are really any hits like they've had in the past.  At least not obviously.  Falls short compared to Is This It or Room on Fire, but they set the bar high for themselves.  I'm stoked to see them at Coachella this year.  Those Dancing Days' Daydreams and Nightmares **** - This Swedish pop albums feels like it comes from the 80s, but it completely fits current times.  Short simple songs, but perfect.  Whereas Lykke Li's album is best suited for rainy day weather, play this in summertime.  Love this album.

Food: Aria

Aria *** - Maybe I had set my standards too high.  After fantastic experiences at MF Sushibar, MF Buckhead, and Kyma.  Aria has the reputation as one of Atlanta's best restaurant, typically mentioned after Bacchanalia.  I certainly had a great time.  The staff were incredibly attentive and friendly, and seemed genuinely happy working there.  Very modern decor in the entryway and bar (with incredibly dim lighting), but suddenly mutated into high-brow chic, bright, and white once you entered into the dining area.  We might have been the youngest ones there.  Bread was divine.  The appetizers were divine: both the porcini mushroom ravioli (the portion was generous enough to be an entree) and the warm Maine lobster tail with broccoli and black truffle potatoes (served in a Martini glass).  The farm-raised duck was served with savoy cabbage, apple, and bacon.  Note the key words: duck and bacon.  The duck was as good as advertised.  The lemon sole with artichokes and grapes was good, not great.  Since the lobster was excellent, I figure it was either the preparation or that sole isn't my fish of choice.  Great place, yes.  Blown away?  Not quite.  Would I come back?  Yes.  In fact, I'm excited about the idea of coming back.  I think I'll stay away from the seafood for the entrees. 
 

Food: MF Buckhead

MF Buckhead **** - Normally I don't do sushi on Sunday or Monday, but since we were in a rush and in Buckhead, my friend Becca and I decided to hit up MF Buckhead for dinner Sunday night.  We had gone to MF Sushibar a few weeks prior, so this shot up the list. Plus, two nights ago, my co-worker Anthony raved about the place.  The only bad experience: finding the restaurant and parking.  (I recommended turning in from Peachtree and doing the complimentary valet parking.)   The setting seemed a little less intimate than MF Sushibar; maybe it was due to it being a Sunday night.  Dishes consumed include the edamame, lobster tail, salmon nigiri, and yellowtail roll.  All fresh and delicious.  How does it compare to MF Sushibar?  Based on the recent trips to each, I favor MF Sushibar just a little bit more.  But a factor to consider.  I ate at MF Buckhead on Sunday night.  I ate at MF Sushibar on a Friday night.  The clear conclusion: MF Sushibar and Buckhead are the best places for sushi in Atlanta.
 

Smartphone Anti-Theft Features

My friend had her phone stolen.  That sucks.  We had a barbecue on Saturday night when I learned about this.  What came of it was a large brainstorming rant of what features we wished smartphones had to prevent thieves like this from reaping the benefits of a stolen phone. Who knows maybe these apps are out there. 

Fingerprint recognition 

If a phone is stolen, how about taking advantage of the touch screen capability and use it to register a thief's fingerprints?  Granted it may only work well without a protective screen slip, which most of us do use.  

Incriminating photo

Once the phone was reported stolen, next time the phone is used, the camera should automatically take a photo of the person and make this photo incapable of being deleted.  It would somehow be forwarded to some site or somewhere this photo can be used to help track down the phone. 

Bomb mode

This was Sameera's idea and I love it.  If someone stole your phone, why not activate bomb mode?  It would flash a screen with a big red digital clock, counting down the number of seconds or minutes until detonation.  It would explode to wipe out only the thief (a one-person radius).  On of top of it, you could send text messages saying things like "Eat shit, asshole" or "Talk 2 u later!"  Okay, this may not happen in a post-9/11 world.  But there could be variations of this mode too. 

Taser or shock mode

This function should initiate when the phone is used for conversation or stored in the pocket such as to shock sensitive parts of the body, like the face and genitals. 

Emit loud piercing, deafening sound

I thought this was a feature anyway.  But in any case, how about a loud incapacitating and piercing sound, especially within quick notice of it being stolen? 

All I know is when I heard her story it made me think about how much I depend on my phone.  But seriously, some tips: 

Always keep the phone on you

Don't leave it out, even at a dinner table!  We're all guilty of that!

Use the security password feature

If you have a security code function to the phone, use it!  It's worth the few seconds each time.  

Note your IMEI number

Dial "*#06#" to pull up your phone's unique IMEI number.  Write this down.  If your phone is stolen, call your phone company and give them the IMEI number so that they can blacklist your stolen phone and prevent it from being used by the bastard thief. 

Think about the information you keep on your phone
Just think about what could be accessed if stolen. 

Any other tips? 

Trips: Cabo San Lucas (Day 6)

March 10, 2011

I made Leah eat substantial quantities of food at Edith's.  She got her revenge.  She took a boy with a fear of heights and an inability to swim parasailing. 

Actually, it wasn't that bad.  In fact, it was awesome and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  See, I used to have a fear of heights that went away as I did more hiking and more flying.  As for the fear of drowning?  Well, that stems from an inability to swim.  But I've been told numerous times that for someone who doesn't swim I truly do love the water and approach it with less fear than I should.  Believe me, I hope to take swimming lessons by the end of this calendar year. 

Leah had signed us up the day before.  I joined in when I found out we could do it tandem.  We went after breakfast at The Office (see end of this day's blog).  

We changed and packed two cameras and a Ziploc bag full of money and room keys.  We registered on the beach in front of the hotel next door.  We probably signed something that waived them of responsibility should something go horribly wrong.  We were picked up by a water taxi and then taken to the main boat from which we would parasail.  We got excited.  We each strapped on life vests and then the apparatus that would secure us to the sail.  Our two guides took the sail out and unraveled it.  The boat picked up speed and we saw the red and yellow sail inflate and start to soar.  Leah was called up and strapped in.  I was called up next and strapped in.  I wrapped a camera around my wrist.  We gave Leah's camera to the guys, so we could get photos from both angles.  We were told to sit in a squatting position.  Before we knew it, we were airborne.  We turned into little kids.  I heard a childlike "Wow" from Leah.  To be honest, for one who has my fears, I felt perfectly safe.  I've had rockier rides in cars and other modes of transportation.  We were suspended in this surreal world, with beautiful views of the coast.  The boat took us around like a kite, and before we knew it we were turning towards and had an unbelievable bird's-eye view of Land's End and Los Arcos.  We were taking photos and videos.  To those of you who have fears of doing this, if I can do it, anybody can do it.  It was pretty damn amazing. (In fact, my friend Regina at work said she wanted to go parasailing when she was in Cabo but her husband also couldn't swim.  I told her he didn't have an excuse.) 

Landing was just as smooth as take off.  We were slowly reeled into the back of the boat.  They took some great pictures of us too.  We unstrapped all the harnesses and gadgets.  We hopped into the water taxi.  We were taken back ashore.  Not your usual morning before catching a flight back to reality. 

The Office **** - So what about The Office?  We eagerly said Yes when asked if we wanted the table closest to the water and under the sun.  (Who would say No to that?)  The machaca (pounded or crushed beef) omelet  with chorizo and avocado, and the machaca burrito, and the flour tortillas, and even the wonderful platter of fresh fruit served in a cut open pineapple, were superb.  Add to it the sea, the sun, and the view, we decided it was the second best breakfast we've ever had (the first being in Thira, Santorini).  I won't be eating any Mexican food back in the states.  Mexican food in Mexico is superior.  For anyone who frequents Cabo San Lucas, definitely add The Office and Edith's to your list of things to do.  You won't be disappointed. 

As expected, the journey back home sucked.  It was a pricey cab ride back to the airport.  Leah passed out on the ride.  Leah's luggage wheel was failing to work.  We made it through security.  We loaded up on pizza, candy, sodas, and the such while waiting for our flight.  Leah's passport nearly blew away in the wind as we hopped outside to board the plane.  I was asleep nearly the entire plane ride.  We landed in Atlanta at about 8 PM, only to spend the next hour at Passport Control.  Tensions grew as Leah's connecting flight was boarding at 9:05 PM.  But then it got delayed by twenty minutes.  Then conflicting information.  We deplaned at E2.  Orbitz told her to go to E19.  The boards in the airport said to go to B9.  We decided to go to E19 and save a trip.  When we got to the gate, we went to the counter and saw one of the first officers there.  He said that he was accosted about the incorrect posting of gate information.  He grabbed the intercom but sadly in a soft voice, noted how E19 was in fact the right gate.  Thankfully, we were in earshot to hear it.  We ran to the food court and  grabbed a bite and Leah was off on the second leg of her journey (she got home near 2 AM).  I fought my way to my car, which I found.  But for some reason everyone in the world was leaving the parking deck, and coupled with an idiot stuck in front of a gate for ten minutes because he didn't pay his parking ticket in a machine beforehand, I made it home an hour later.  I admit my driving did involve some road rage.  I grabbed my backlog of mail.  I unpacked.  I showered.  I did laundry.  I uploaded pictures from my camera.  The usual post-trip decompression.

So what do I think of Cabo?  Eh.  ;) 

Trips: Cabo San Lucas (Day 5)

March 9, 2011

Our resort was huge.  It took us until this day, the last full day in Cabo, to discover the beach-side pool and jacuzzi.  While Leah was sleeping, I ran around the whole resort, trying to find all the scenic spots, trying to find access to rooftops.  It was through this process that I discovered the beach-side pool and jacuzzi.  We headed straight here once Leah woke up. 

We claimed the jacuzzi.  With a view of Land's End, but with sunlight somewhat blocked by a tall but perfectly placed palm tree, it was heaven.  Until we hopped into the pool just to the right of the jacuzzi.  We hopped in and Leah claimed it was the greatest pool in the world.  It might have been.  It was warmer than other pools.  It was misshapen, but perfectly sized for two people to hang out but have enough space.  The view: enough said.  Everything about it was right.  But in all the years I've known Leah, this was the first time I did not see her turn blue or go fetal when hopping into the pool.  It was a priceless moment.  (Much to Leah's chagrin, we went back to this pool one day later only to learn it was actually a mild temperature jacuzzi.  This was hilarious to me.)  

We had another simple lunch before preparing for the big dinner at Edith's.  We decided to walk the length of Playa de Medano to get to Edith's.  We found ourselves checking out other resorts, equally impressive.  Some just had beds, like in some posh NYC bars, strewn about the resort and even the beach itself.  Pretty neat actually.  This place had a feel of sexy and STDs.  That's when we noticed the pictures of Paris Hilton and Rob Schneider on the wall.  Enough said. 

We got to Edith's and a bit early.  We strolled for a bit and happened upon The Office, which we had heard about.  We went in to grab a drink before dinner.  It was a awesome place.  Great atmosphere and completely vivid with its colors and decorations.  It was right on the beach.  Literally, tables and chairs on the beach.  Somehow Leah and I got tricked into order a double pina colada.  Each!  I called it quits halfway through.  Leah toughed it out, but feared that she would fall victim to dinner due to her limited stomach size.  We asked the waiter named Tiger what to order for breakfast, as we decided to come to breakfast the next day.  He said the machaca omelet, the machaca burrito, and flour tortillas.  Done, done, and done! 

Edith's **** - We got to Edith's at 6 PM, right on time.  I gave my name and was welcomed with a,"Ahhh, Senor Jeff!"  It was as if he was glad to meet me.  (This will come into play later.)  We were sat at our table.  Literally, everything on the menu sounded delicious.  We were waited on by an array of servers, with army-like efficiency but ballet-type grace.  We ordered the seafood chowder and Caesar salad as our appetizers.  (Historical note about the Caesar salad: it was reportedly born and created in Tijuana, so Mexicans in the Baja take tremendous pride in their Caesar salads.  It is claimed that Edith's has the best Caesar salad in the world.)  Next came the guy to show us the fresh selection of meats and seafood at our disposable.  We decided on the Wally 2: a plate with ribeye, shrimp, and lobster.  We were given a pre-appetizer, a plain tortilla, almost a mini-taco.  Yum.  The seafood chowder: absolutely fresh and delicious.  The Caesar salad: it was made right in front of us, including the sauce which was made from scratch, and I must say, it was the freshest lettuce and best Caesar dressing I've had.  Not that I've eaten a ton of Caesar's salads, but it's certainly the best I've ever had.  It was at this point in the dinner that a band consisting of two guitarists and bassist come table-side: I requested a traditional song.  I'll tell you, live music took the dinner experience to another level.  Finally, they delivered the dinner plate.  I found it hilarious that they put it front of Leah.  She had a ghostly look of shock as if to say, "Are you f**kin' kidding me?!"  Shrimp, lobster, and ribeye were all equally amazing.  As simple as that.  The ribeye was the most plain steak I've ever had: no sauce, only seasoning.  We ate every last bite of every dish.  After Leah came back from the bathroom, I started to notice something else coming together.  See, I called in during the day to tell them it was her birthday in a week.  I piece of flan with a candle was placed in front of Leah as the band descended again.  She couldn't piece it together.  So I told her.  A Mexican birthday song was played and yes, she did a shot of tequila and somehow swirled her head round and round.  Remember the greeting of "Ahhh, Senor Jeff"?  That's why.  It's not every time you get to celebrate a birthday in another country.  The flan was excellent.  The overall experience was unforgettable, possibly the best sit-down dinner I've had.  I must add, the service was impeccable.  Joel told me about his experience at Per Se.  We felt the same way.  So much attention to little details and not necessarily to the food.  Yet it wasn't snooty.  It was fun, fun, fun the whole way around.  

My consciousness quickly faded as we decided to walk off this massive protein and calorie load.  It was a gorgeous night to walk back on Playa de Medano to our hotel.  The problem was, I wasn't paying attention.  An hour later, Leah called me out and pointed that we were way passed where we needed to be.  We trespassed a resort property to verify that this was true.  I barely made it back into the hotel room.  I just rubbed my belly and took a nap.  I woke shy of midnight to find Leah packing.  I did the same.  Reality was approaching; we would be leaving the next day.  

Trips: Cabo San Lucas (Day 4)

March 8, 2011

This was the day we exceeded laziness.  We actually called it our "lazy day," or more accurately our laziest day.  In a place like Cabo, where there is so little stress and potentially so much inactivity, there are actually degrees of laziness.  Our agenda for the day: make it to the sunset cruise and make a reservation for Edith's for our final night in Cabo.  We barely got these things done.  

We spent the morning pool-side at our resort.  Leah read about world events in the daily paper, while I read Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain.  I hopped into the pool.  She crawled into it, turned blue and maintained the fetal position for a good ten minutes since the pool was too cold for her liking.  (The only thing warm enough in the world, I'm convinced, is the sun itself.)  Then she got a cold drink at the swim-up bar.  It was entirely peaceful.  I read and ordered some drinks.  Then came lunch.  And of course a nap.  

We changed and took a cab to the Marina.  We were told to meet at No Worries to register for the sunset cruise.  Go figure, Leah and I get lost through the cab driver dropped us off in the right spot.  As the information guy said to us, "Are you worried about finding No Worries?"  No Worries was a bar and restaurant where Cabo Escape sunset cruises was based.  I scoured the menu, worried that the dinner on the cruise would be inadequate.  (This would not end up being an issue; the food was plentiful.)  

The sunset cruise reminded me, to a degree and on a family-friendly scale, of the booze cruises in Cancun during spring break several years ago.  One member of the crew dressed like one of the Three Amigos with a holster carrying hard liquor.  He went up to each person of drinking age, made them drink a shot while blowing a whistle, and finished it off by taking your head and swirling it around.  You know, to really make it take effect.  Leah observed that guys were getting screwed into huge shots.  Yes, this happened to me.  Yes, my head swirled.  Yes, it took effect. 

This was one of several oddities during this sea adventure.  There was a cabaret version of Radiohead's Creep blaring on overhead speakers.  We watched three moms and their three kids cutely dressed in matching outfits ... and proceeded to watch one of the moms get shit-faced, later agreeing to dance-offs, which would later would involve a stripper pole.  A cameraman jumped all over and around the boat like Spiderman taking pictures.  A couple who looked like and could have only been from Texas were drinking and dancing, sometimes well and sometimes not.  At one point while we were dancing, we heard a huge thud; the Texas guy slid through the Texas gal's legs. 

But there were the non-oddities too.  The views of Los Arcos (The Arch) were incredible, especially on the one night there was mild cloud cover to make the sky a bit more dramatic.  The Mexican dinner on board was authentic and delicious.  The open bar was a huge, huge plus.  I think we all took advantage of that.  Then the sunset on the Pacific side of Land's End was amazing.  We were all snapping photos.  We were all helping each other snap photos.  All while eighties music blasted in the background.  By the trip's end, we were all dancing on the deck while the ship pulled into the marina.  I had a good buzz going.  We found our acrobatic cameraman and got copies of the pictures he took.  The two hours flew by.  Again, well worth that presentation we did oh so long ago.  

We found ourselves at the Wyndham hotel.  We asked one of the guys to hail us a cab.  He screamed into his walkie-talkie: "We need a cab, VIP, VIP .... HURRY UP!"  We were cracking up.  "You like that, eh?" he said.  Leah continued to laugh hysterically.  "She's still laughing," he says to me, amused.  Leah and I must say, Mexicans have a wonderful sense of humor.  

How to decompress after a sunset cruise?  Relax on the balcony of a villa and hop in a jacuzzi.  That 's what we did.  And it worked just fine.  

Trips: Cabo San Lucas (Day 3)

March 7, 2011

Such a lazy morning.

Leah was out cold.  Since I passed out early, I figured she could sleep in.  I hopped onto our balcony and did some yoga during sunrise.  Stressful, I know.  Leah woke up.  I decided to make some breakfast: French toast and scrambled eggs.  You wouldn't think this was a large breakfast, considering I made only three pieces of French toast.  But this breakfast defeated us and I'll tell you why: the whole-wheat bread we bought, we were convinced, is the most dense item in the entire universe.  It should be on the periodic table of elements, towards the bottom right.  An equivalent-sized breakfast in the states would have easily held us over until lunchtime.  Leah and I found ourselves the victims of this breakfast and founded the need to take a nap.  In the morning.  We woke up at 11 AM.  That's powerful bread.  

The theme of the day was laziness.  We finally got the energy to get ready.  Get ready for what?  Exactly.  Get ready to go to the beach.  We hopped onto the beachfront and hailed a taxi.  A water taxi.  For ten bucks round-trip per person, we took a taxi ride over to Playa del Amor (Lover's Beach).  Water taxi was the only way to reach the beach.  This was my favorite taxi ride in recent memory.  It was so enjoyable that it wasn't until the end of the choppy water ride I remembered my inability to swim and the lack of a life vest.  

The approach to Playa del Amore was awesome.  White sand in between two large rock formations.  We landed on the beach and found ourselves amongst the relative few who decided to journey on over.  Most people were on this side of the beach because of the relative calmness of the waters compared to where we would go.  Through the two rocks was a beach pathway connecting to the other beach, Playa del Divorcio.  This was also an incredible beach.  And incredibly deserted.  The views are spectacular and it seems puzzling why so few people would be here.  Then we realized how strong and powerful the waves and water were.  It wasn't exactly ideal for swimming.  As for laying on a beach though, I didn't quite see the problem.  Leah and I went camera happy, taking photos of the rock formations and the water before deciding to plop down on the beach with a sense of urgency so we could lie in the sun, do nothing, and relax.  And that's what we did.  

We hailed our taxi driver a few hours later. The half hour or so prior to that we people-watched back on Playa del Amore.  When we hopped back onto our taxi, we asked our driver if he could take us to Los Arcos.  He obliged.  We made our way towards Los Arcos.  We stopped by a crack in the rock formation called The Pacific Window; you could see the Pacific Ocean through this slit.  We moved onwards and before we knew it, Los Arcos started peaking out of the corner of our eye.  It was breathtaking actually.  I had seen the pictures and knew what it looked like.  But actually approaching it and seeing it with my own eyes was a near religious experience.  Leah and I were giggling like schoolkids; this was awesome.  Our driver pointed us towards a rock cliff full of sea lions.  We started zooming in and out of rock formations, and eventually found this one piece of rocking jutting up out of the ocean with a solitary sea lion resting at the top.  Our driver called to it and it started moving about, almost dancing.  We made our way back to Villa la Estancia.  We tipped him handily.  He didn't have to take us to Los Arcos.  Or he could've charged us extra.  

We laid out on our beach for a while before hitting up the jacuzzi.  We were soon joined by a group of four, two husband and wife couples.  We knew we'd like them; the first guy literally plopped into the jacuzzi (it took both Leah and I a few minutes to hop it) and said "It's good!"  The two ladies were best friends from high school.  High school!  Impressive.  They tend to do trips every year.  We exchanged stories, lots of stories, about our respective travels.  It was a jacuzzi full of jetsetters.  But all of us did share a thing in common: first time to Cabo.  The group recommended two places for food.  I was definitely all ears for their suggestions, especially since they declared themselves foodies from Chicago.  They said we should go to The Office and Edith's.  Both were owned by Edith Jimenez.  I had heard about her prior to this trip.  All good things.  We added it to the list of things to do, which, admittedly, wasn't a very long list.    

Leah and I returned to the grocery store to grab a few more items: Ziploc bags, a beef quesadilla from the deli, caramel cake, and Oreo cake.  We had dinner on the balcony and consumed more wine.  Life was good.  But a day full of sun started to take its toll.  We remembered being incapacitated watching cartoons like Barney and Noddy and some crazy other dinosaur cartoon.  I don't really know what happened.  I apparently fell asleep really early.

Trips: Cabo San Lucas (Day 2)

March 6, 2011

Kendra warned me about the timeshare presentations.  

Leah and I signed up for one at the airport on our arrival; we figured the transport to and from the airport, the free breakfast, and the free sunset cruise on the day of our picking was worth a few hours of our time.  And it was.  

We were taken to the Grand Solmar near Land's End, where we were greeted.  We met our guy, our personal timeshare presenter guy.  Sadly, Leah and I cannot recall his name.  For two people who work in a profession that takes pride in the little details, we were embarrassed we couldn't  remember this guy's name.  We did remember his apparent nicknames based on his co-workers who called out to him: Sunshine or Scooter.  We walked through the beautiful property and stopped by their private beach, which had a jaw-dropping view.  We had a pleasant breakfast and exchanged a few pleasantries, including what led Sunshine to come down to Cabo after so many years in the Northwest.  Driven by his daughter who knew about Cabo and the sad yet inevitable nature that was her daughter's independence, he picked up his things and moved to Cabo five years ago.  And he said it was one of the best decision he's ever made. 

We were taken by a shuttle to a part of the resort still in construction.  If where we started was the iPad, then this was the iPad 2.  It's always interesting visiting a construction site, more so with a resort, seeing its transformation into a wondrous resort.  The resort really was coming together nicely.  The rooms were generous in size and furnishings.  Who wouldn't want to have a timeshare here?  I snapped pictures as we saw numerous infinity pools.  We tour several rooms.  Even the studio was very comfortably.  Timeshare owners appeared happy, including one young woman who seemed to be overwhelmed by her 4-bedroom rooftop property.  We caught a sneak peek of the massive lobby, under construction, really just a skeleton of what it is to be.  We got to push towards Playa del Divorcio, which was walking distance from the property.  These views were amazing too.

We were taken by a shuttle back to the main resort grounds.  We toured this facility a little more, including their rooftop rooms, pool, and jacuzzi, with views of the marina.  More free picture-worthy views.  

We were brought back to the opposite side of the resort, near where we had breakfast.  We sat at a table furnished only with an empty notepad.  Sunshine went inside to grab books and more paper.  A waitress took our drink orders.  Inside, the song "Pokerface" randomly blared with each person or couple or whomever that agreed on a purchase.  Leah and I were ready for the pitch.  

It was a grueling process.  An hour at least of sitting at the table, listening to Sunshine crunch numbers and pull strings in ways reminiscent of car dealers.  He meant well.  This is what he does.  Leah asked him straight up if it would be better to screen out potential buyers rather than taking a fishnet approach to marketing.  We were obviously not buying.  We loved seeing the property and getting all the free views and things.  But we hated wasting his time since he didn't have a shot.  Hell, he was talking to two doctors fresh from residency who barely own their own property in the United States, who still have debt to pay and their living expenses are still in the form of rent, and he honestly thought he could make a sale, for us to buy property in Mexico?  Like I said, who wouldn't want a timeshare at this resort in Cabo?  But I told him I had tons of reasons not to do it.  But timing was a big one.  Not a priority right now.  

As expected, Sunshine called for back up.  He called Vic.  As Leah put it, he was sleazy.  Sunshine seemed like a good guy.  Vic was nothing but.  He gave us a speech of how he understood doctors.  It came out more insulting than anything else, implying that none of us are happy with what we do and merely want to choose between "medications" or "a gun to the mouth."  Vic, can go fuck himself.  Oh, and that wonderful story he told us about his wife and such?  Interesting, as Leah noted, that he didn't have a ring on his finger.  

Then we met Angel.  He did a survey of our experience.  Leah and I could understand why we looked like honeymooners: we were two young people in Cabo.  When he asked where we lived, we answered "Connecticut, New York, Georgia."  Angel laughed at us.  Angel was our favorite.  He knew we wanted to get the hell out of there.  He had our "ticket to freedom," referring to a ticket to allow us to cash in on the sunset cruise.  We eventually grabbed it.  

We walked over to the marina.  It was a gorgeous day.  Who am I kidding?  Everyday was a gorgeous day in Cabo.  We saw a freshly caught huge marlin.  We saw a giant Michael Jackson mascot.  Even the views from the ATMs were gorgeous.  We stopped by a hole in the wall and grabbed a few cheap quesadillas.  Heavenly.  As Leah needed Band-Aids, we stopped by a pharmacy and that's when we noted all the different pharmacies, advertising OTC we're used to but also things like Levaquin, Flagyl, metoprolol, Lasix, all OTC.  We stopped by a local mall on the port.  We watched the boats moving in and out of the marina.  We saw a boat named Fearless Jr, which didn't sound so fearless.  We meandered back towards Villa la Estancia over the next hour.  We hugged the beach, walking the water.  Everyone was happy.  Kids running in and out of the water.  Random dogs catching balls and burying them urgently in the sand.  One dog dwarfed all the others and we were hoping the large dog would pick up and bury one of the smaller dogs.  Didn't happy.  We met Raul.  He initially offered us water taxi rides to Los Arcos.  Then he somehow started talking about his life journey that initially started in California and brought him to Cabo.  We sadly cut him short since Leah was getting sunburnt.  

How sad that Leah and I were exhausted by all of this?  

Thus, we hopped in one of our resort's lovely pools.  We hopped in and relaxed for probably an hour.  By the time we hopped out, it was past sunset.  We frantically ran towards a jacuzzi, as we were "freezing."  We were.  But we understand that's a relative term.  

We decided to hit up the grocery store across the street from our villa.  We hoped to stock up our fridge, take advantage of our full kitchen, and cut on food expenses.  The grocery was actually a grocery store.  In fact, Leah ran back to our room to assess if we had pots, pans, and wine openers.  Yes to all of the above!  We bought stuff for sandwiches, like we did on the Greek islands.  We bought stuff for breakfast.  We bought tons of water.  And soda and wine.  I also bought a bag of chicharron (fried pork skins).  I would eat an average of one bag of chicharron per day.  

We had sandwiches for dinner.  And wine.  We decided to eat at our dining room table since we hadn't sat there yet.  First full day in Cabo?  I'd say it went well.  Our most taxing activity involved a presentation with beautiful views of the island.  It's very rare to relax like this.  

Trips: Cabo San Lucas (Day 1)

March 5, 2011

Cabo is a beautiful, beautiful place, devoid of evil things like stress, humidity, and mosquitoes.

Though my flight wasn't until 10 AM, I found myself awake at six in the morning, anxious to get to the airport, taking all precautions to prevent missing this flight.  It was brisk parking and making my way through security.  I grabbed breakfast in the airport terminal and waited for my flight.  Really, the height of my stress in the morning was trying to figure out why Cabo wasn't on the departure board.  I looked up my fight on my iPhone and it told me where to go.  It was when I arrived at my gate that I realized my mistake.  Cabo wasn't listed as Cabo or San Jose Cabo.  It was listed as Los Cabos. 

It was an uneventful flight.  Always a good thing.  In fact, I was asleep for most of it.  I woke up and felt a pressure on my left thigh.  That's when I realized a young elementary school girl was leaning over trying to look out the window while we landed.  We were both excited.  Perhaps as excited as this little schoolgirl.

Just like in Saint Lucia, we deplaned on the runway.  It was hot and bright and sunny and good.  I was all too happy to throw on my shades.  I texted Leah to let her know that I arrived.  Little did I know her plane ran late and she was literally only a few minutes ahead of me on the customs line.   Before I knew it, I was through customs and met up with Leah (hooray!).  You have to understand, Leah and I tend to meet up in faraway places.  This time, it's Cabo.  Not too shabby.  We were excited to say the least.  

We threw our bags through security and "pushed the button" to determine whether or not we'd get further searched.  Green lights for the both of us.  Sweet!

We were shoveled, almost without choice, to a corridor filled with energetic and eager salesman-type figures.  Yes, we were going to get pummeled with offers to lure us into seeing timeshares.  We signed up with the first guy we saw, as he promised us a cheap taxi, free breakfast, and a sunset cruise.  We nodded and shook our heads.  Kendra told me that this would happen (she and Rees were in Cabo only weeks before us).  We would oblige for one.   

Over the thirty minute cab ride, Leah and I caught up since we hadn't seen each other in a good while.  Though it's always fun to catch up with one of your best friends, we had to stop each other so that we didn't forget to appreciate the arid but beautiful scenery that passed us by. 

Villa la Estancia was the name of our hotel.  Let me tell you, Leah and I were laughing at how ridiculously over the top this place was.  Our luggage was handled for us.  We were seated in a beautiful lobby and were served fresh bottled water while we checked in.  We were showed to our room.  Building two, floor five, room 2505.  Now, I booked this through sniqueaway.com, much like Charleston and Saint Lucia.  I thought those were over the top.  Villa la Estancia takes the cake.  

Let me tell you about Room 2505 at Villa la Estancia.  We were given a tour of our villa.  1400 square feet.  Two doors just to get in.  Full kitchen.  Yes, full with two sinks, dishwasher, full-sized refrigerator, dishwasher, plates, cups, wine glasses, oven, microwave, toaster, coffeemaker, and any kitchen ware you'd need to cook a meal or just have a glass of wine.  This was connected to a dining room (bigger than mine in Atlanta) and living room (bigger than mine in Atlanta), which had a full entertainment center including flat-screen TV, stereo system, and iPod docking station (yes, all of which were bigger than mine in Atlanta.)  There was also a guest bathroom with its own shower.  The bedroom involved a king-sized bed with all necessary accessories including another flat-screen TV at the foot of the bed, with a full mini-living room next to it.  Both the bedroom and main living room attached to the balcony, which was generous in size to say the least, which had another full sized table, six chairs, and two lounge chairs, and a view of the ocean and Land's End.  Six feet to the left of the bed was a jacuzzi.  Our bathroom was bigger than my bedroom in Atlanta.  It had a shower, toilet, enough closet space to hold my entire wardrobe at home and more, plus a his and her sink set up.  Yes, ironing board and iron were provided.  Did I mention the washer, dryer, and sink specifically for rinsing clothes?  Yes, there was WiFi.  And yes, they provided an ethernet cord just in case.  Again, we were laughing at what we had at our disposal.  Utterly and beautifully absurd.  

We unpacked and we showered.  We ran to the beach.  (The distance from our room to the beach is shorter than my walk from my apartment in Atlanta to the mailbox.)  It was incredibly warm.  We watched the sunset.  We took tons of photos.  We ran like children towards the water, only to run away when the waves came in.  We watched children run towards the water and run away when the waves came in.  Leah remembered what sunlight was like.  We hopped into an outdoor jacuzzi.  The stars were clearer than I could remember, with Orion directly above.  Dinner at the restaurant La Casona was very good.  Endives, fresh red snapper, and ribs based in BBQ and apple glaze.  Yes, we hopped into the jacuzzi in our room.  Yes, the bed was incredibly comfortable.  We watched Harry Potter.  We talked about our lack of plans for the week and how that plan was glorious.  We passed out. 

Trips: Water Whores in Cabo

Ah, the decisions one has to make in Cabo.  Leah and I arrived in Cabo yesterday.  Within hours, we found ourselves watching a wonderful sunset on the beach by our villa.  What's the water like? we thought.  The water was nice, but a bit cold for our liking.  But we braved it, doing our best to "tough it out" to snap just a few more sunset pictures.  What about the water at the pool?  We went to the beach-side pool at the lip of our villa.  Wow, much warmer!  Only to find there was another pool deeper into the villa, a little more secluded and a little more quiet.  And equally as warm.  Sense a pattern?  But wait, are those jacuzzis?  We found two pool-sized jacuzzis overlooking the prior pools and the ocean.  One of the most relaxing moments we've had in a long time.  Before we knew it, the villa was lit in nightlights and fires and an incredibly clear night sky with Orion directly above.  This is nice, we thought.  But wait, what about the jacuzzi in our room?  Yes, there's a jacuzzi in our room.  Our massive room (the over-the-top luxuriousness of our hotel room is a whole other topic in of itself and oh yes, I plan on describing that in detail!).  It is located six feet from the right side of the bed.  Six feet!  So yes, why not hop in yet another body of water?  Yeah, the pre-bed jacuzzi routine is something I can get into; phenomenal.  We relaxed and relaxed some more, letting cheesy hotel infomercials permeate the otherwise serene environment.  I'm writing this the morning after.  Best night of sleep since The Huntley in Santa Monica in September 2010.  So far, so freakin' good!

Food: Au Pied de Cochon

Au Pied de Cochon **** - From the brief research I had done prior to going to this restaurant, the downsides always seem to be tied to the seafood.  I went to dinner with a fellow carnivore, so we were good on all counts.  We really, really enjoyed this place.  For such a wonderfully chic restaurant and hotel, we were thankful to find the entire staff quite friendly, happy, and hell, they seemed to enjoy where they work.  This was one of the better restaurant week deals: a three-course prix-fixe meal for only $25.  Not too shabby.  I enjoyed my starter, the French onion soup, which, though not the best I've had, was better than great.  Becca enjoyed her fresh salad.  For entrees, I started with the roasted chicken breast with ratatouille and Becca had the beef bourguignon with fettucini.  We decided we would switch halfway through.  (Perhaps it wasn't a coincidence that my research revealed so-so seafood and our waiter leaned away from the seafood.)  We are both slow eaters.  But not tonight.  We devoured the first half of our respective meals and then switched, only to devour the second half just as quickly.  It's hard to pick a favorite; both were equally delicious.  Tender chicken, tender beef, and not overseasoned.  Really tender.  At one point, I dug into the chicken with my hands, which Becca noted was a good sign.  The fettucini was a welcome complement to the beef, as was the ratatouille to the chicken.  Actually, they were as good as the main meats.  Then came dessert.  The desserts were light and wonderful.  I preferred the baba au rhum.  Becca preferred the crème brûlée.  But that's just a preference thing.  So, in sum: What's not to like?  Great service, great food, and great ambiance.  And a hidden plus about the place: it's open 24 hours a day.  I wish I knew that, and a long time ago.  I wouldn't be a surprised if I stop in for a croque monsieur sometime soon ... One final thought.  I had read about inconsistencies with the restaurant.  On first impression, quite consistent through and through.

Anthony Bourdain Goes to the Philippines

I got home from work and the first thing on the agenda was watching the Chelsea vs. Manchester United game.  I DVR'd the game since it took place while I was at work.  I turned on the TV.  I noticed two things: (1) Anthony Bourdain and (2) Filipinos.  Could it be?  A No Reservations episode in the Philippines?!  I was glued.  

See, I've always had pride in being Filipino, but only recently, in the past months, have I been more active in seeking to learn more about the Philippines.  Admittedly, my initial exploration of a culture is through the cuisine, the food.  Over the past few months, I've had growing cravings for comfort food - Filipino food like my Grandma used to cook - and outside of sporadic family gatherings or generous offerings from Filipino co-workers, finding a way to answer these cravings has really been hard to come by.  When I was in Seattle in December, I found a small shack inside of Pike Place, owned by a lady Mila, who set up shop over forty years ago when she came to America, to Seattle.  I ate chicken adobo every day for several days.  Just as good as Grandma's.  Just as nice as Grandma.  In fact, with each passing day, I've come to appreciate how amazing a cook my Grandma was and that I had the privilege to be exposed to traditional Filipino dishes.  

Over the past month though, the opening of a new Filipino restaurant was huge news for many Filipino-Americans in Atlanta.  Early in infancy, it's doing quite well.  The last Filipino restaurants in Atlanta, I've been told, were in the 1990s but they eventually closed.  Why?  I asked one of my Filipino co-workers at my hospital.  She thinks it was the sub-par quality and the lack of staff.  "You need good cooks," she said.  We're all really happy with the new restaurant.  I knew this place was authentic when I first walked in and it was loaded with Filipino people who spoke tagalog.  Then when I was handed the menu, I realized that I couldn't read the menu.  Though I'm sure I've eaten these dishes, I never knew them by name.  To me, they were associated with the phrase "Dinner's ready!" back when my Grandma was alive. 

The basis of the Bourdain episode was that a Filipino-American named Augusto, born in Long Island, as a fan of Anthony Bourdain, suggested that he do an episode in the Philippines, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was the lechon (roasted pig) that sealed the deal.  Sure, I was excited to know that Anthony Bourdain was enjoying Filipino food.  But along the way, he asks the same questions that probably all Filipino-Americans get asked.  And it was interesting to hear the responses.  Because they were the same ones I've uttered.  

Why are Filipino-Americans seemingly detached from their homeland, unlike other people of southeastern Asian descent?  Good question.  Augusto answers and I've answered the same: many of our parents want us to fit in with our new culture (America) that often Filipinos will put that first and their culture second.  Thinking about how I grew up, there certainly wasn't any lack of cultural exposure, typically at dinner or family gatherings.  But I think an active education of the Philippines wasn't emphasized.  What was emphasized, for me, was getting along well with whatever I was doing at the time.  There was definitely pride in being Filipino.  But there was also pride in being American.  I got into this conversation with my friend Regina at work, also a Filipino-American like me.  Her upbringing was just like mine.  When one of the nurses on my unit who was born in the Philippines was shocked to know that I didn't speak tagalog (not uncommon among Filipino-Americans), I asked her daughter who was born in the states (and alas a Filipino-American) if she spoke tagalog.  She didn't.  

Why is there such a lack of Philippine representation in America when it comes to food and culture?  Another good question.  I always joked that we're lazy as a people.  Anthony Bourdain says that Americans would "love this stuff" but jokes that Filipinos are just too nice.   On the show, Filipinos answer that Filipinos tend to be very warm, embracing, and tend to adjust and meld easily with new environments.  I think there's truth in all these answers.  But maybe it works the other way too: Is there a lack of interest in the Philippines?  Augusto, to me, is a good representation of a Filipino or Filipino-American.  He's not bold.  He's nice, content, and eager to see others happy.  Filipinos don't jump out at you.  We like everyone to get along.  And often we'll put others first.  Maybe that's part of it. 

Augusto tells Anthony that he had only been to the Philippines for the first time a few years ago.  Me?  Haven't been.  My brothers?  Nope.  My friend Regina?  When she was little, but basically has no memory.  Again, not uncommon among Filipino-Americans.  But like Augusto, once we've embraced being American, there grows this yearning to know about our country of origin.  Well, for me that's the case anyway.  Another friend and co-worker of mine was born in the Philippines.  She lives, talks, and breathes Philippines.  Down to the karaoke and mahjongs.  But she's white.  Her parents moved from America to the Philippines and she was born there.  She jokes she's white on the outside and brown on the inside.  I'm the opposite.  But in the same way I'm fascinated at her lack of knowledge about America, she's fascinated at my lack of knowledge about the Philippines.  I'm determined to go back to the Philippines.  For the first time, I've felt a true sense of urgency and tremendous need to go.  And for someone who loves to eat and travel like me, why wouldn't it make sense?

Finally, the most important question of all: Can anything be adoboed?  Yes.  Typically pork and chicken.  But you can adobo anything.  And yes, adobo is a verb.  Shrimp was adoboed on No Reservations.  In fact, my friend Lisa posted a picture on Facebook of a sign she saw in Hawaii.  It was a riff on a NO PARKING sign, which said FILIPINO PARKING ONLY - ALL OTHERS WILL BE ADOBOED.  I need this sign. 

Oh, two more things to note: (1) I don't know why the whole PH versus F with spelling Philippines and Filipinos; (2) Chelsea beat Manchester United 2-1.