Gotta be dry and light, but, above and beyond, this is heavenly with all sorts of seafood, from boiled lobster and shellfish to chowder to baked striped bass.
I’m trying to get the food pix together in the midst of returning to normal routines, a grinding update of trash collection where we live, the most writing I’ve been asked to do in a long time, catching up like crazy with music, and so —
What I have to offer tonight is: when in Rome, eat the octopus. I don’t think it’s only the sensitive and nuanced preparations, I think the animal itself from the waters there is sweeter and a couple shades richer in flavor than the ones from the Northeast US. Very complex creatures.
(1) We got what I would call an ideal viewing of the Sistine Chapel.
We had long been warned to start a Vatican tour as early as possible and zip right to the Chapel in order not to be distracted and even overwhelmed by a sea of crowds. We went with the 7:30 AM tour done by The Roman Guy and indeed did motor pretty much right into the Sistine Zone. I expected the groups to be as small and scattered as they were, but I worried that we would be more or less hustled through the room. Instead (though our guide said she was not allowed to say much, she would answer questions — I noticed a couple other guides kinda ignored the silencio requirement) we got absolutely enough time for a full examination. And no question, it’s a pinnacle of human achievement.
Three sub-points and I’ll move on. I’ve always thought “God Separating the Light From the Darkness” looked oddly murky and unfinished (even in the cleaned reproductions I had seen). Observing the work itself, it was plain Michelangelo intended this deliberately. The primal origin is the murkiest moment in the history of the universe — and I think every religion as well as science would agree on this truth. Next, no matter how many dozens and dozens of times I have scanned the “Final Judgement” I never appreciated how horrible and emotionally tempestuous is the figure of Minos. Nightmare.
Finally my favorite non-Michelangelo work in the Sistine is on the right of the back wall. Shows angels chasing demons away from the corpse (and soul) of Moses, who had a very sordid set of later years, of course. Very demony demons (as I say, you can tell when the artist believes) and a knockout presentation of the principle that the good you do can redeem the bad. I flopped attempts to track down who painted it.
(2) The modern art we saw offered serious competition in wonderfulness to the classical masters.
(And my biggest complaint is that you could do a well-researched visit to Rome and hear next to nothing about the Modern treasures.) The Time Out of Joint exhibition was a thorough treat — well, a few dull rooms — and we would say a must. One of the best aspects is that, while there are themed sections, there’s no right or wrong way to put together your path through the building. Just make sure you take in everything. The Hercules in the link, btw, is the only 19th century mythology-themed statue that rivaled the glory-years works. The others were warnings about how trapped in a wondrous past a country’s traditions could become. And even this Herk is an obscure if intense moment I had to look up to remember.
The Botero retrospective was a surprise treat among surprise treats. We got in during a special-discount late-hours session on Saturday and enjoyed a crowd with more art-devoted locals than usual. Particularly strong on showing how turning pre-existing themes into you own language is potent. The blow-my-heart-and-brains section was the one on circus performers. Only gripe: 80-year-old Botero oversaw the selections himself and chose to present his work as a bit more above politics than it is. Even one of these would have made it a perfect survey.
(3) Food and taste cheerys.
We had forgotten that not just eggs but milk — and cheese and ice cream and yogurt etc. — was richer and more complex in Europe than in the US. I yearn for one of those yogurt and fruit snacks to this minute. Also, sticking rigidly to my new eating schedule felt half deranged and half impossible. Especially as I caved on carbs for unforgettable pasta and even bread sometimes, I worried. We were quite active — walked at least two miles or more every day — I was sure I would gain.
Stepped on the scale the day after we returned: not a single pound added. Joy oh joy. The only change I’m going to make in my routine is to be a tiny bit more forgiving about an occasional slice of bread that seduces me. Should be offset by my reluctance to settle for the lesser pasta hereabouts.
Eternal question: where has Italian wild boar been all my life? Over there, waiting for me to flip out over it.
(4) The stunning clarity of the cleaned-off artwork banished all regret at taking so long to visit the Eternal City.
The freshened stone and canvas and even paper are what to see. An indisputable argument was the Coliseum — where you almost wish they would leave the grime-removal incomplete since the compare-and-contrast was so fascinating.
Speaking of the Coliseum, another pleasant surprise was the extensive temporary display that traced the history of the giant structure in reproductions and reconstructions, including representations in paintings and illustrations.
There was yet still more, but I’m outta poop.
It’s a lunch discovery in Washington DC. I am exploring the same unfamiliar neighborhood where I ran across the lovely non-profit book-and-music store. Chance on this place called Stone Fish Grill which I check out because I think Stone Fish are cool and the menu looks intriguing. So here’s what makes this pick odd:
Place seems to be primarily an Afro-Caribbean disco that serves lunch from 11-2 and dinner from 5-9. So the lighting and decor is, well, not suited to relaxed narfing.
I only ate one dish.
But it was the most exquisite crab cake and veggie side I can remember.
The side was green beans cooked to perfect firmness with what tasted like a Southern-style sauce (Carolinas or Caribbean I couldn’t tell).
But the cake itself — oooh. About the size of a hardball and done the right way — all crab meat with spice and a bit of sauce and no sinful filler stuff — with the right crab, Maryland, which I find deeper flavored and more delicate than even fresh Maine.
Completely satisfying. A full meal. Only. 10. Bucks.
And I was the only person in there eating lunch. You people are missing out.
If in the area, don’t join the missers.
My current feeding system has a mid-afternoon snack and I was very pleased to discover yogurt was recommended. I’ve loved yogurt since I discovered it in high school, if it’s the right kind (Greek-style is a big turn-off for me). Lowfat French Vanilla is the standard, with fruit — most often blueberries.
Then I ran across this weird warning: “yogurt is loaded with way more sugar than you would expect.” Oh, nertz. I checked it out, and yes, it was rather more than you might expect, but a fave brand, Stonyfield, seemed to have it reasonably under control, so I stuck with it and all seemed well.
Recently a new batch of Stonyfield arrived with an announcement on the front “Now with 25% less sugar.” Should be pure good news, right? Well, turns out that according to my palate, it now has about 25% less flavor and personality. I’m not going to change anything, but it shows that avoiding sugar has its swirls and snarls like anything else.
I’m basically behind this article and agree the books sound too clickbaited. But two points —
The fat-phobia era did make a lot of food less savory. That the sugar industry was behind propaganda is a damned big story — simply because they knew fat-free remakes would require added sugar to taste decent at all. And checking on added sugar is well worthwhile (pretty easy to tell if it’s outta control).
Next, I think the common-sense council at the end of the essay is undeniable, but also not enough. For years and years I read similar advice, knew I was trying to be as common-sensical as I could and remained 30+ pounds overweight.
I would advise a visit or three with a pro nutritionist (now, thing is, I know they are like physical therapists — not all created equal or right for everybody; the one for you is the one where you get serious results following the advice). I found some fundamental things I considered common sense were not — e.g., pure OJ is a harmless thirst-quencher; intense exercise, as much as you can manage, is what will keep the weight off. And some essential affirmations: keep getting on those scales every week, dammit! Nothing becomes automatic — you will have to be mindful about your eating for the rest of your life. It is way too easy to chow too much when you work down the hall from your kitchen.
Visit a nutritionist.