Festlig fisk till helgen

Jag hittade några fina bitar lax på Kipa till helgen. Affärerna har varit fulladdade nu inför en av årets stora högtider, Kurban Bayram, Offerfesten. Mycket fint kött finns att köpa nu, så det blev två skivor kalventrecôte också. Det är en stor mathelg, ungefär som jul eller påsk hemma hos oss.

Jag köpte också en bunt med en sjögräsliknande växt, som jag aldrig provat tidigare. Glasört eller Salicorne. En ört som växer på stränderna och har en krispig smak av havssalt. Testade att äta den både rå och smörstekt med champignoner. Den stekta blev favoriten, riktigt god till laxen.

Jag stal en apelsin från ett träd i en övergiven trädgård i Tepe häromdagen.Ville ha en riktigt ekologisk frukt till den här rätten. Köp alltid ekologiska apelsiner om Du ska använda det rivna skalet, de vanliga är fulla av giftrester från bekämpningsmedel. Så är de ju mycket godare också, de som är odlade på traditionellt sätt.

Lax i Apelsinsmörsås med Champignoner och Glasört

250 gr färsk Lax

2 msk Smör till stekning

Havssalt och nymald Vitpeppar

Smörsås med Apelsin och Rosépeppar

50 gr Smör

Finrivet skal från ½ ekologisk Apelsin

1 msk pressad Apelsin

1 tsk krossad Rosépeppar

Lite Havssalt

Champignoner med Glasört

150 gr små, färska Champignoner

3 msk Smör

En knippe Glasört

Smält smöret på svag värme till apelsinsåsen och blanda ner saft och skal. Rör ner rosépepparn och smaka av med salt. Låt stå på sidan av plattan så den hålls varm.

Skär champignonerna i fyra delar och dra loss kvistarna från stammen på glasörten. Bryn smöret och stek svamp och örten på hög värme ett par minuter. Salta inget extra eftersom glasörten redan är salt.

Stek laxen några minuter på var sida, krydda.

Servera med några Apelsinskivor, Rucola, Dill, lite råa kvistar av Glasört och Cocktailtomat. Granatäppelvinäger och Olivolja på salladen.

Several years ago while I was living in Chicago I planned a Christmas trip to Phoenix. For some reason the train got me to the airport early so I splurged $50 on the United Red Carpet Club to relax and get some breakfast. When I got to the gate, I explained I was a Premier member and the gate agent handed me a first class ticket. This was going to be good seeing I was on the second level of a mammoth plane. I had a few drinks in my fantastic seat. The flight attendant offered more. Formerly being in the airline industry, I knew they were having engine issues. The plane sat for four hours and I was trashed. Finally the flight was cancelled. The wonderful flight attendant emptied his mini-booze bottles in my bag.

Now I had to fend for a flight to Phoenix with 350 other flyers. Then I remembered I had my all-day Red Carpet Pass and there was an agent present with no customers. Rather than waiting in line with the masses I darted to the agent who not occupied in the club. Every flight was full. I asked her to get me to LA seeing I could always drive to Phoenix. There was one seat in first on a flight leaving in 30 minutes, however I would have to fly from LAX to Phoenix on Christmas day and spend the night in an LA hotel. I made my flight and landed in LA.

Before the plane took off I called Starwood seeing if their were any rooms at an airport hotel. All the rates where cheap so I went with the Westin. Being a Gold Card Member at Starwood you get an upgrade and your ass-kissed among other amenities. When I arrived, exhausted, there was no ass-kissing from the bitter queen behind the counter. Maybe all the running around made me look like crap or it could have been the reek of booze oozing from my pores. All I got on Christmas Eve was a regular room. The room looked like an ordinary Westin room, except the bathroom. The bathroom needed some major bloody rehab. I was scared to take a shower.

My father gave me permission to order room service on him since I was stuck at an airport hotel on Christmas Eve. We never got to celebrate our special Christmas Eve tradition of champagne and caviar ever again. I don’t remember what the hell I ordered. I know I ordered lots of diet coke for my mini-booze treats and something about a cheese cake that tasted like a “no-bake cake.” When I woke up in the morning I was hung over and had to wait 30 minutes in the freezing cold for the airport bus to take me back to LAX. Good news was I got United to pay for the hotel and provide a voucher for $350! I don’t care what people say, I love United more than most airlines.

1 and 3/4 Mints

Thailand offers a different expression each time experienced simply for the essence of its people. The balance between luxury, adventure and spontaniety flitters through the mind in tandem. While the proclivity at times is to progress towards the beaches, the unlikely progression of the North provides some interesting parallels as the Golden Triangle looms with flavor.

Approaching the angle of Bangkok on a straightaway shot is preferable on all fronts. Normally for most airlines on Trans-Pacific flights, the requisite element is a stop over in Taiwan’s Taipei Airport for a crew change. Cruising on Thai Airways direct on a 17 hour tick from LAX, the interrupted flow makes the arrival that much more instantaneous. Seated in Premium Economy, the legroom is ample allowing for an essence of relaxation. Power ports are practically placed for those in work mode.

Three servings of meals is enticed over the flight which on this leg took place completely in darkness. The first course encompassing dinner used the element of stir fried chicken with onions and steamed thai hom mali rice while the essence of a nip of Thai whiskey and beer available for no charge at this seat level quelled the thirst. After a balance of work and fitful sleep, the second serving in the form of breakfast played to the tier. One of the grand elements of Thailand is the fact that many items deemed lunch are ultimately served at breakfast which creates a melding of thought patterns. Here barbecued pork and chicken sausage with rice hit the spot on cue before engaging back off to dreamland. Right before landing in Bangkok nearly two days later on the world dial (because of the crossing of the international date line), a last serving of lunch mixing stir fried rice noodles and chicken provided a filling end to the ultimately quick feeling flight.

After a quick transfer morning flight to Chang Mai in the north from Bangkok, the warm welcome of the Shangri La Hotel offers a bit of resuscitation. Awaiting the beginning of the Yi Peng Night Festival replete with floating lanterns and fireworks, the coziness of the room illuminated by the included Wi-Fi while looking at the looming mountain above offered a sense of scale and tranquility.

Quickly escaping into the city to the Hong Tauw Inn, the beginning of the filling and ultimately spicy food became apparent. The Thai Milk Tea, long a favorite, refreshed with its spicy countenance while a Pad Thai mixing shrimp, egg and rice satisfied richly along with sauteed asparagus and crab cakes which affectionately here in the States is known as Thai Toast.

Ascending into the hills above Chang Rai, the temple of Wat Phra Thart towers in solitude atop Mount Doi Suthep watching over the land, the city but a speck below. The surrounding statues framed by a towering staircase that leads into nirvana on the scales of dragons ponders one to climb its heights with nary a breath to sustain.

As dogs of infinite calm lie almost guarding the treasures of soothing presence within, a line of bells rings in consecutive progression as one is led inside the golden palace, accessible only without shoes. After paying homage throughout, a silent moment in meditation in a quiet corridor of Buddha statues brings the chi into focus, ready for the inevitable challenges ahead.

After a balanced stop at the Shangri-La’s Horizon Club for happy hour cocktails and conversation, a feast lay before those quested. As the glowing embers of rising lanterns began to fill the night sky, the open air seating of Baan Suan prepared one for the essence of green chiles, powerful in their vehemence. A spry egg and parsley meld offered no solace from the hot curry soup replete with shrimp while the marinated pork allowed a mellowness of flavor while still envisioning a summit yet to come. In parallel, stir fry noodles readily doused with green chiles chopped in earnest brought tears to the eyes because of their sheer power which no amount of water could decimate.

Early morning brought offerings as the giving of alms to the novice monk tribe became a ritual in penance. As the sunlight began to crest, the pilgrimage of this sect, enclothed in orange with heads shaven, walking down the mountain, met with homage from local people and tourists alike. Upon offering food and drink into round tins held by its members, blessings were given in low chants as the believing kneeled penitent, basking in the grace of these holy people.

Hunger permeated the aftermath of such penitent feeling with the Shangri-La’s Kad Kafe, happy in its obligement. With a mixture of buns, congee, noodles serenaded with broccoli and ginger, rice and hash browns mixed with a helpful digestant of miso soup, the day was ready for action.

In advance of the anticipated Cooking School at the Four Seasons Chang Mai, a trek to the Pratu Market in the heart of the city applied focus with a diversity of meats, tastes and spices to assail the senses. After the both salty and sweet application of Thai donuts, an inference of Thai Milk Tea again soothed the soul. The meat market, apropos of cow intestines, pigs heads and liver gave way to more tandem seafaring creatures with squid, frogs, crabs and raw fish, all of which makes itself part of a very exceptional and exciting Thai cuisine. Of course, the chiles, red and burning, are the cornerstone of its culinary brevity as a spice stop near the exit verifies.  An offering of strong hot chili sauce guaranteed to singe the tongue as well as a spice which offers both an effervescent mobilization of virility and the assuagement of hangovers thrills the adventurous.

At the Four Seasons Chang Mai, the jungled landscape of the property leads to a clearing where, up a series of steps, an open air cooking mecca replete with individual cooking stations waits for the so-inclined. Available to all by way of paid reservations, the school allows the ability to make some well known Thai dishes and soups with one’s own hands. Led in earnest by the funny and exceptionally knowledgable Chef Pitok (aka Chef Tiger) who walked all the participants at his bar station through the introduction of new ingredients, the virulence of the different spices made the wanton progression of the seasonings all the more fun.

As a small nip of the infamous Tiger whiskey made a proponent of the cobra fermented treasures lurking behind the glass, the plethora of food created by the group simply astounded in its complexity and florid viscosity while still remaining fairly simple in its preparation. The skills of the indominitable Chef Tiger through his precise yet gentle instruction (especially involving a requisite egg net to surround Pad Thai which is more indicative of its traditional preparation than that seen in the States) shows a dedication to culture while still allowing the West to realize its potential.

As the evening bloomed, the energy of Chang Mai spewed forth. Shopping stalls along Chang Klan Road, the essence of bargaining ranged in style. The ability to be able to walk away from a sale is the greatest bargaining tool with a shadow dragon lamp purchased in warrant for half its price. For the ladies, the lurid colors of pashminas and sarongs abound in vivid wonderment, limited only by the want of the customer.

As the love of shopping proceeded to an open air celebration, the Paradise Bar, a stalwart feeling the shrinking of a global economy, sits upon the ghost of a former beer garden. Pool shots stimulated over bottles of Singha brew and a tequila-infused temptress continued in earnest bombasted only by the exploding temptation of half sticks and blossoming fireworks launched from only a few feet away in honor of Yi Peng.

The flowing night after the close of the street fair congregated at a small food stand immersing one in the crunchy but plausible veins of crispy chicken and sticky rice. As the celebration wandered, The Kangaroo Bar, spilling forth with the vocal heaven of Led Zeppelin well past the witching hour, offered a respite of relaxation. A Chang Beer washed the worries away with echoes of laughter despite the shockwave of an all-too-enthusiastic Australian eager to explode one last party favor of fiery intent onto the street. The night plays all too quietly.

Embarking on a four-hour drive through winding roads towards the essence of the Golden Triangle, the emblems of the city fall away. On a wayward side shalom, the rejuvenating waters of a roadside hot spring allows for the tingling sensation of heat spewed forth from the Earth as the dipping of toes necessitates a burning that never felt so right. After settling onto cool ground, the enveloping coolness of coconut milk sipped from the vine gives prudence of character as red dragonflies buzz around with verve.

Lunch on the road not taken meandered towards a river overcome by flow sporting a deck connected by a suspension bridge of pine and steel. The continued predilection of Thai Milk Tea within the Charin Garden kept the soothed beast contained. Rice noodles danced with mushrooms and water chestnuts mixed with pepper chicken and garlic riched pieces of marinated catfish before an ending slice of honey banana pie riveted the taste buds to soar.

Late afternoon gave way to the gothic magnificence of Wat Rong Khun, a white temple of lore, that raises from the grounds of the Ban with an utter intensity that gave credence to both modern and far ancient perceptions of mythology, religion and pop culture.

As the visitor enters watching the whiskey sacrificed to the red skulled spirit, the bridge of supposed purgatory leads over an outreached cacophany of wretched hands, one of which boasts a mouth of sharpened teeth ready for the endives of those that dare cross its path.

Leading up towards the hallowed temple, two gargoyles, one male, one female, welcome with a knowing grin of perception as clawed fingers bask the sides of the ascending steps.

Inside the hallowed ground, the painted mosaics make reference to apolocalyptic struggles using real world threats of nuclear and ballistic chemical weapon strikes interspersed with images of the World Trade Center wrapped in the tentacles of man-shaped monsters. Nearby in tandem, homages of lightsaber wielding Jedis dissident in battle with numerous machine attacks point to references of Neo and “The Matrix” in an almost prophetical potpourri of metaphor.

After this outpouring of inventive and bewildering imagery, the soothing peacefulness of the Antara Golden Triangle rushes everything anew. Entering into its torch lit atrium with lush chairs and crisp air, home is once again attained.

The rooms highlighted by a massive and encompassing bath offers utter contentment made all the more instinctive by an array of wonderous spa elements including orange infused shampoo, honey conditioner and bath milk that simply stunned in its wonderment.

Outside, the balcony boasts a sitting bed as the jungle reaches far beyong towards the Mekong River and the Elephant Camp as the trumpeting of a young baby female breaks the silence in spurts of echoes.

The hazy briskness of the morning brings light to the outside beauty of the Sala Mae Nam Cafe overlooking a rich valley as a watering diversity of bread, rice, marinated pork, pastries and vegetables provide sustenance for the day.

Arriving at the staging area of the Golden Triangle Elephant Camp only a cart ride away down the hill embankment is a thrilling reveal. The elephants trumpet in communication, standing at the ready as the morning lessons, both for human and beast, begin in earnest.

First in fairness a visit must be made to see the youngest member of the clan, Am, an 18-month old female, who is just about as cute as one can get for such a magnificent creature. Her want of bananas never waning, she is a natural with her peach fur raising in the sunlight as her playful demeanor shows itself.

In taking a picture close with this beautiful animal, your humble narrator receives a wet kiss of sorts which only increases the frivolity with the inclusion of a female companion who laughs in glee as the ticklish trunk of the resident mascot plays with her hair.

The tricky part of driving an elephant is based in the perception that they don’t stop on a dime but do respond well to commands. Four basic progressions cover the gamut. The first, “Bai” means go. “How” means stop. “Ben” coupled with the gentle nustling of the opposite ear is used for turning. “Toi” means to move backward.

Now before any of this is placed in motion, one must first get on the elephant which is achieved through a variety of different means. Unlike a previous trip to Elephant Hills (read here), south of Phuket, where the elephants were always steered by the mahoots which are their handlers and companions, here at the Golden Triangle, you, the visitor, become, the Mahoot in Training. The elephant is to be ridden bareback with no fear.

After learning the commands to make the elephant lie down, crouch its head and lift one up using its legs, the trust begins to be formed. Then like amateur drivers, the riders are taken with the help of ground based mahoots through a small obstacle course (not unlike the DMV) where the commands are repeated and verified with regular convenience. Then comes the real test.

Unlike the earlier Phuket experience, the elephant trek at Golden Triangle took in epic strides the effective definition of the term. Heading out from the camp, the caravan of animals made their journey towards the river, making time for various branch eating runs. There is an element primordial and essential in this experience, even as the whir of scooters scamper past and digital cameras flash. It feels real.

As the elephants make their way to the clearing along the nearby Ping River, they must traverse a set of stairs. The elephant that became my pillar of strength, Bal, a 31-year-old female, took careful but sure steps that angled us at odd degrees as one arched the back to stay astride. Then all that was left was water.

Approaching the bank, the necessity was to get rid of all electronic objects because, make no mistake, you were going in. Embracing this fact with relish was the most natural thing to do. As the water rages past, the surefooted Bal plunged herself into the river with aplomb turning around alongside her fellow peers. The fun begins as she submerges and holding onto her ears, the ride is a matter of will. At the command of the accompanying mahoot, water is sprayed from the trunk drenching the rider completely with a sense of playfulness as the alien nature of the surroundings seems all too comforting.

Emerging from the milk of the river, the elephants make their way up an ascending path. The waiting luxury of the Antara looms majestically in the distance as the rooms above become clearer and clearer. Mixing a feeling of the subtle and the paradoxical, the elephants are brought straight along the path past the buildings to the valet drop off as if a normal occurrence, an odd setting indeed but completely compliable (since that is the point).

After this progression of endurance, sustenance is need and subsequently found less than five minutes away at the Golden Iyara where a Thai chicken cachatore, fried wontons and tanatlizing rice and pork mixed with fresh salsa satisfies with intention along with a cold Singha.

The befitting progression of the first half of the journey shows a perception of worlds defined between the essence of the maintained spirtualism and the very real majesty of the land while still maintaining a sense of fun and culture.

Thailand is truly wonderful creature. But between its gentle wilds, the essence of real world commerce balances the tables between the life wanted and the life maintained as the country continues to evolve.

Till ca 4 personer.

8 bitar lax, typ den frysta Finduslaxen
2 brk kokosmjölk
1 brk/kartong krossade tomater
1 msk tomatpuré
1 msk sambal oelek
3 fiskbuljongtärningar
ca 4 dl vatten
1 hackad gul lök
1 hackad purjo
4 krossade vitlöksklyftor
6 tärnade potatisar (mjölig)
lite örtkryddor

Fräs alla sorters lök mjuka. Späd med vatten och krossade tomater. Tillsätt potatis och låt koka en stund. Häll på kokosmjölken och allt utom fisken. Låt koka tills potatisen är mjuk och faller sönder.

Strax före servering tillsätt laxen och låt den bli varm/genomkokt.

Servera.

Plättlätt och hur gott som helst. Kan serveras med bröd eller utan. Mängden lax avgör hur mättande det blir och om det behövs tillbehör. Lyxig och fin allt beroende på hur den serveras. Funkar såväl tisdag som lördag,

Today was the first day I’ve been back home since I moved to LA in August. It’s been weird; driving the same roads I used to drive everyday, going to the same places  socialize and eat, it all seems so odd. The more things stay the same, the more they change. Unfortunately not everyone I used to see when I live in the bay area still lives here. It’s nights like this when I wish my best friend hadn’t moved to Israel. On a brighter note, I once again realized why I love traveling so much. People in the airport have so much expression and such different stories to tell. I was able to snap this shot off in LAX as the subject noticed I was taking a picture; his glare really makes for quite the expressive photo.

The Neocon Republican Terrorist vision of a divided and segregated America, where everybody that is not a white Anglo-saxon Christian is considered cannon fodder and trash, is coming to fruition. It is reminiscent of the reaction to the new population of freed slaves that the white former slave masters had after they were soundly defeated in the Civil War by the Union army.

This is the period in our history called Reconstruction where,for a decade after the Civil War,blacks gained political power, and some attained financial wealth as well.

During Reconstruction, southern whites turned violent when they saw blacks making major gains.

 Reconstruction was followed in the South by domination by the Democratic Party and the enactment of Jim Crow laws, grandfather clauses and similar measures. The bitterness and repercussions from the heated conflicts of the era lasted well into the twentieth century.

Read more about the Reconstruction era here… http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reconstruction_era_of_the_United_States 

Southern state governments quickly enacted the restrictive “black codes“. However, they were abolished in 1866 and seldom had effect, because the Freedman’s Bureau (not the local courts) handled the legal affairs of freedmen.

The Black Codes indicated the plans of the southern whites for the former slaves.^[24] The freedmen would have more rights than did free blacks before the war, but they still had only a limited set of second-class civil rights, no voting rights, and, since they were not citizens, they could not own firearms, serve on a jury in a lawsuit involving whites or move about without employment.^[25] The Black Codes would limit blacks’ ability to control their own employment. The Black Codes outraged northern opinion. They were overthrown by the Civil Rights Act of 1866 that gave the Freedmen full legal equality (except for the right to vote).^[26

 There were many reported murders of blacks in the south during reconstruction, but many killings of blacks went unreported, and by all accounts, millions upon millions of African-Americans were killed by the hands of bitter southerners, as reported in this account taken from Wikipedia by a soldier visiting from the North...

The number of murders and assaults perpetrated upon Negroes is very great; we can form only an approximate estimate of what is going on in those parts of the South which are not closely garrisoned, and from which no regular reports are received, by what occurs under the very eyes of our military authorities. As to my personal experience, I will only mention that during my two days sojourn at Atlanta, one Negro was stabbed with fatal effect on the street, and three were poisoned, one of whom died.

In todays modern post-racial world, we have organizations and groups that have a mission to keep track of, and to investigate the existence of, the number of racially motivated,or bias motivated crimes against minorities,religious groups, gay Americans.

Currently, America is going through another Reconstruction like era,as we are experiencing the racial backlash of hatred based on the election of our first black president,Barack Obama.

The election of Barack has caused a rise in all forms of hate crimes, as well as the emergence of the Ku Klux Klan as a force to stoke the flames of hatred and encouraging physical action of violence against blacks, Gays, and all other religious groups that are not Christian.

What is most distressing is that the tide of racial violence is being egged on and financed by the foreigner Rupert Murdoch, and the entire Republican party,that at one time represented the opposite of what they believe in now.

For a group that, centuries ago, used to be the main supporter of civil rights, they currently are the main driving force behind this increasing tide of racism and bigotry that is the rage in most of the states in America.

The racist are moving from the south, and invading the once liberal California, in order to spread their southern tradition of hatred and illiteracy. Hate crimes based on sexual orientation shot up 21 percent in Los Angeles County last year, while religious crimes increased 14 percent, because the southern bigots have moved in.

The Daily News in Los Angeles reports that...in 2008  in the Valley,James Shamp, an African-American man who worked as a janitor at a bowling alley in Canoga Park, was shot to death as he was throwing out trash. According to the report, three members of the Canoga Park Alabama gang, which has a long history of violent anti-black crimes, were arrested and charged with murder and hate crime enhancements.

The San Fernando Valley had the most amount of hate crimes in the Los Angeles area.

"Whenever I look at a map of hate crimes, I find there is a great diversity of hate crimes that occur in the San Fernando Valley," said Robin Toma, executive director of the commission. "You have anti-Semitic hate crimes, homophobic hate crimes and racially motivated hate crimes. There is also the phenomena of racialized gang violence."

Sexual orientation hate crimes rose the most last year, with more than 80 percent targeting gay men and at least nine crimes traced to Proposition 8.

A report on a sexually motivated hate crime from the Daily News... A white lesbian couple walking hand-in-hand on the beach in Malibu. The mother of a white tourist family from Arkansas told them, "You are going to burn in hell!" and dumped her water bottle on one of them and punched one in the face...

Please keep that level of ignorance in Arkansas,...and my family is from Arkansas.

The election of the first black president and hot-button issues such as abortion and gay marriage contributed to the spikes, anti-bias groups say. Public figures like Sarah Palin and Glen Beck have done a lot to cause the current racial hatred that whites are visiting on all others.

The two of them have been quite effective when it come to rallying sympathy for groups like the KKK and the Nazis.

USA TODAY is reporting that the number of attacks on blacks increased 8% to 2,876, accounting for seven of every 10 race-motivated crimes.

"There is this kind of extremism going on," says Hilary Shelton, director of the NAACP Washington bureau. He says Obama's election and the recession led to a backlash against blacks as some people look for someone to blame for hard economic times. http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2009-11-23-hate-crimes_N.htm

I say to the world, this is a good look at the so-called ''Post-Racial'' America, a country where race relations and the unity of the races has been usurped by the in vogue traditional American practice of racial bias,hatred and division.

Our country has been going through this cycle for well over a Hundred and 8o years, and by the looks of things, that sad tradition will continue.

What do we do to end this....will we come together, or will we have to resort to our primal instinct, where only the strong survive.

I think that based on 200 years of data and statistics, the tradition of racism is alive, well, and thriving in the United States, and that we are guilty of the same atrocities against humanity...our own people, that we so blatantly accuse our so-called enemies of doing to their minority populations.

We are all truly hypocrites.

Read more on this story from these trusted sources…

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/11/23/hate-crime-on-rise-gay-re_n_368276.html

http://www.dailynews.com/news/ci_13829526

http://www.upi.com/Top_News/US/2009/11/20/LA-sees-hike-in-certain-hate-crimes/UPI-95381258737529/

Thinking to myself on my return flight from Los Angeles, I thought what better way to get my blog on then with a story about my recent travels to Las Vegas, Nevada and Redlands, California.

Las Vegas (the parts I’m allowed to tell that are more or less related to sports):

Yep, the madness actually started before I even landed. About two hours before landing (probably somewhere over Utah) the flight attendants decided to get the passengers involved in the game “Lucky Bucky” where each passenger would put their seat number on an $1 American (although at the time I believe it was close to parity with the Canadian bill so I was tempted to scribble 15A on a loonie, but let’s face it, it would have no chance against those soft, floating dolla bills) into a clear plastic bag and then they would bring the bag of money too the front and choose the winner.

So we all waited and the lady flight attendant who organized the whole thing went to the front (I believe there were 129 George Washington’s in the bag) and of course didn’t pull up my Georgie Peorgie (although the person who won it was within a couple rows so I got a good close up look at the bag of ones. Let me tell you this: hilarious! Such a ridiculous amount of bills in the bag.

So yeah. I lost money before even touching down in Vegas. Sick.

NIGHT 1

I arrive in Las Vegas a half hour earlier than scheduled. So far, so good.

Immediately, its apparent to everyone that the sterotypes that you can gamble anywhere in Vegas are 100 per cent. Slots as soon as you walk off the airplane, slots in the bars on your way to baggage carousel, slots beside the baggage carousel. I resisted. After a long day of travel I wanted to find my friends who were already in Vegas gambling away (although I later heard that the “Wheel of Fortune” slots the airport can turn $5 into $50 as soon as you step off the plane. I’m gonna try that next time for sure!).

I find my bags, which includes my set of golf clubs (which I thought might be a big pain in the ass to lug around the west coast, but later turned out to be a good idea) and make my way to the shuttle bus.

The bus driver let’s out a bit of a groan when he sees my clubs. I’m not sure if it’s a groan of not wanting to lift my clubs or a groan of jealously that I’d be hitting the links in the near future. Nonetheless, I promise him a good tip just to stop him from acting like a damn baby.

There’s only a handful of passengers on board so I think I’ve lucked out. Wrong!!! I’m, of course, last to be dropped off and not only that my hotel, the Palms, is a friggin’ 15-minute walk to the main strip (and hence and reason why I’m last off the bus)! Actually, on the way over to the Palms, I thought the driver forgot about me and was headed back to the airport because we had to cross over the highway to get to the Palms from the main strip.

Whatever, didn’t really matter. I’m in Vegas! I’m on vacation! I’m ready to rock out!

There's my hotel (left tower) and the strip beyond it in the background

I eventually track my boys down at Lawry’s steakhouse, a certified meat factory no more then a 20 minute walk from the main strip. Finding this place was actually a bit tricky for my cabbie as he ended up getting us lost approximately 50 feet from the restaurant.

I enter the place and notice right away, like everything in Vegas, the place is huge! High ceilings, huge rooms and the place is just bursting with activity. I mean gamblers have to eat eventually right? Anyways, I find the guys at the bar and right away we get seated.

I don’t know what to expect from the menu, but I’m starving and feel I can dominate any item on the menu. Or so I thought. I know one thing, I’m getting the steak so I ask for recommendations and get the unanimous decision: get the ‘Beef Bowl Cut.’

Here’s how Lawry’s describes this piece of meat: a double sized cut with the rib bone, as served to Rose Bowl and Cotton Bowl teams. Huh? I’m eating something that would satisfy a 300-pound linebacker? Wow.

Here’s how I would describe it: at nearly two inches thick with my dinner plate barely able to handle the sheer size of the monster. This cut could scare the flannel off a lumberjack!

When I finally finished having my way with my slab, the pool of blood that remained looked like I had sacrificed the beast myself over the table.

Believe it or not, it actually tastes better then it looks

Alright… I’m now fed, checked in, a couple beers deep and surrounded by men. Clearly time to gamble!
Ironically, I ended up at the Flamingo, one of the few casinos I gambled at the only other time I’ve been to Vegas back in September of 2002 (the other being Treasure Island, which was the hotel I stayed at).

Learning my lesson from that ‘time,’ I sat back and observed my boys take over a craps table while my buddy Matt filled me in on how to play. I think this started to annoy one of the dudes running the table to the point where he had to shove a “Rules of Craps” card in my face. Honestly, the card just confused the hell out of me. Besides I was learning a lot more by watching my friends as Matt explained. Eventually some hack rolled a sever, crapping out everyone.

Watching my friends lose money actually kind of made me want to lose some. Strange feeling once the power of Vegas starts to grip your wallet. But I just wasn’t feeling it inside the Flamingo. So I took off for next door at crazy Bill’s Gamblin’ Hall and Saloon. Definitely not the nicest casino on the strip and probably one of those places where the main players in Vegas couldn’t wait for the lease to run out so they could blow Bill’s up and build some 80,000 room place made of actual gambling chips. But seriously, there was a dive bar selling dollar beers right by Bill’s that had a sign that read “Still 19 years left on our lease.” Hilarious!

Drop a little $$$ around this area

Funny story while I was losing my chips at Bill’s. At this one blackjack table, this 40-something-year-old lady sat next to me and a buddy. Right away I thought she was your run-of-the-mill cougar (more about them in my Redlands section) waiting to prowl on my bones, but she was actually spoiling her newly turned 21-year-old son with a trip to Vegas. Not a word of a lie, this kid actually waiting until 12:01 a.m. and then sat down beside his mom at the table. He was immediately carded and that’s when everything was revealed.

Next few hours went something like this:
-I would bet some chips
-get dealt some cards
-would either (i) bust or
(ii) lose to the dealer’s frequent hands of 20 and 21
-bet more chips
-eventually lose all my chips through the sequence described above.

Good times. I guess.

Anyways, we all eventually made it back to the Palms for a couple more drinks and eventually called it a night around 3:30 a.m. (which of course felt like 6:30 a.m. to my east coast ass). Needed my beauty sleep for the next day.

Silversea Spirit

Silversea Silver Spirit Courtesy of Silversea Cruises and By Linda Garrison, About.com Guide to Cruises

BIRD’S EYE VIEW OF SILVER SPIRIT SEA TRIALS from Silversea on Vimeo.

Det blev kvällens middag… Stekt laxmed solrosfrön, spenat och potatis.

Har börjat äta allt mer och mer  lax. Vissa kanske rynkar på näsan åt det här och tycker det är konstigt att jag har ratat lax så länge eftersom att det ju står i så gott som alla tidningar att det ska vara så väldans nyttigt o bra…

Jo, det är nyttigt men för min del har det varit på tok för fett och fullproppat med kalorier för att det skulle godkännas i min kosthållning. Känns skönt att något så gott får ätas närsomhelst nu…. på mackan med avokado, med fetaost, i sallad, med pasta, direkt ur kylen, mmm, bara så gott!

Nu måste jag sova…ny dag imorgon!

God natt på er!

Jag är inte mycket för att mäta och väga, jag kör på känn även i köket. Ta alltså receptet med en nypa salt, men bara en nypa för fetaosten är lite salt i sig!

Fetaoströra
Fetaost
Kapris
Röd lök
Creme Fraiche
En nypa salt och lite peppar

Mängd av ingredienserna styr ni utifrån smak och antal portioner! Mosa sönder fetaosten och hacka kaprisen litegrann. Rödlöken finhackar ni, rör ihop i en salig röra. Blanda sen i Creme Fraichen och lite salt och peppar. Rör tills allt är väl blandat.

Lax

Laxfiléer finns fina djupfrysta, eller om man så önskar kan man naturligtvis också använda färska. Antal – så många ni behöver utifrån antal portioner. Skär en skåra i varje laxfilé och fyll den med fetaoströran. All röra ska INTE gå åt, spar lite till senare också.

Idag har jag valt att göra laxen tillsammans med lite finskurna rotfrukter. Lite örtkryddor på rotfrukterna gör det extra gottigt! In i ugnen, 225 grader, cirka 20 minuter brukar räcka, men ha lite koll på laxen. Rotfrukterna kan ju ta längre tid om de inte är finskurna!

Så här smarrigt ska det se ut när det är klart!

Och här kommer anledningen till att ni inte ska göra av med all fetaoströra på laxen innan ugnsbakningen – resten ska man nämligen ha till som en kall sås – jättesmaskigt!

Laxen kan så klart serveras med annat än ugnsrostade rotfrukter, gott till är också kokt färskpotatis, pressad potatis eller potatismos. En sallad till och måltiden är fullbordad!

Smaklig måltid!

Gratis matcheckar kan ni få här!

Larry Birkhead and 3-year-old daughter Dannielynn were spotted going through security at LAX today.

Dannielynn has really grown into a beautiful little girl. Her mom, the late Anna Nicole Smith, would be so proud of her.

{FAME}

image credit

Just typing this post is making me excited to be thinking about going home to Beverly Hills. New York is a great city for the subway, the cutlutre, the noise, the unwanted smells, the food, the weather, etc. However I am a Cali girl at heart and love where I grew up.

I cannot wait for the semester to be over! I am anxious to get to the airport and head to LAX to see my dear family and friends. Speaking of traveling/flights, I wanted to tell you about a site called sidestep which is a great for finding excellent rates for all your travel arrangements. When I use the site it really only takes me a few minutes to find what I need and before you know it my travel plans are booked. I  love to fly and cannot wait to travel again in the next few weeks. What do you enjoy about traveling?

This week I was invited by Virgin America to cover the launch of two new lines from California to Florida (SFO – FLL & LAX – FLL), where we had the chance to interview CEO David Cush and Richard Branson himself. Check out the full write-up and video below on Gadling.

Article + Photos @ Gadling
Exclusive Video @ Gadling

 

N395AN, originally uploaded by Peter Spence.

American Airlines (Dallas/Fort Worth) has painted and introduced the first Boeing 767-300 painted in the Oneworld Alliance color scheme.

Copyright Photo: Peter Spence. Boeing 767-323 ER N395AN (msn 29432) taxies with the new look at Los Angeles.

On Thursday, the 19th, I complete 16 years of living in Los Angeles. While everywhere on earth is probably fascinating, and complex, and impossible to understand without living there for a significant amount of time, LA is one place that evokes strong reactions from people who have visited here for only a brief time or who have not even been here at all. When I tell someone I live in Los Angeles, they might respond, “Cool, all those movie stars and the ocean and the nice weather!” or they might just as likely say, “Dang, how can you stand it: traffic, smog, murders, Tom Cruise, fires, earthquakes?”

Like every big city, LA is far too multidimensional to be summed up in any short string of descriptors. There is, as an unending progression of writers have and will continue to point out, the simple question of where LA begins and ends. When I say I live in LA, that’s pretty darned vague, when you consider that the metropolitan area stretches for nearly a hundred miles north to south, from the northern part of the San Fernando Valley (that’s “The Valley”) down into the far wastelands of Orange County, and from the ocean back eastward toward Riverside and San Bernardino: an area that’s home to maybe 8 or 10 million people. In fact, only a portion of those people live in a city named Los Angeles, while millions of others — including me — are residents of some untold number of other towns and cities that range from big cities in their own right – Santa Monica, Long Beach, Irvine — down to flyspecks like the City of Industry, which has about 12 full-time residents among its thousands of industrial buildings. But, not to split hairs, we’re all rolled up in the gestalt of the big morass that the world regards as Los Angeles, no matter how seldom we attend a movie premiere or go to the actual downtown or attend a game at Dodger Stadium.

Therefore, I’m listing 5 good and 5 bad things about Los Angeles from the perspective of the archetypal “transplanted midwesterner” who’s had a few years of driving around and breathing the air, meeting people and reading the local paper to form an idea of the place. I’m going to ignore the obvious things like good weather and an ocean and food because you don’t need to hear about THOSE again, as well as things like traffic and taxes and an incredibly corrupt set of municipal, county and state governments (well, the state government may not be corrupt: that presumes some fundamental level of functionality) because plenty of other cities and locations have all of those, too. I’ll stick to things I’ve learned that might not’ve occurred to you, whether you’re unfamiliar with the place, or perhaps even if you’ve been here so long that haven’t considered them lately.

5 Bad Things About Los Angeles

1. Water – As in wasting it. For a place that has spent billions of dollars to engineer one of the world’s most awesome hydrological systems to bring water across deserts and mountains, the inhabitants here are shockingly, alarmingly profligate in the way they use water. Nothing can convince you more completely of the inherent selfishness and cluelessness of your fellow man than to watch some bozo using a garden hose instead of sweeping his driveway or to retrieve your newspaper from a gutter running with water streaming from all the lawn sprinklers up the street.

2. Building Codes – As in none. An infinite number of building inspectors must have loaded an uncountable number of bottles of Johnny Walker Black into the trunks of their cars for endless years to account for the thousands of shopping centers built with only three-fourths the number of appropriate parking spaces, the single-unit properties occupied by two or even three dwellings, and the driveway cut-outs that enter streets just yards from busy intersections. The core fabric of Los Angeles is as dysfunctional a place as I have found on earth.

3. LAX – As in the nation’s 3rd-busiest and possibly least pleasant airport. I don’t want to get going on airports that have not kept pace with the current state of air travel since I did that in yesterday’s post, but only the advent of all the post-9/11 headaches associated with flying out of every airport have saved LAX from meriting an asterisk on any travel agent’s listing saying *try not to fly through here.

4. The sheer messiness of the place – LA, as I mentioned, is not a single place, but an immense amalgamation of cities, towns, manufacturing districts, harbors, refineries and our notorious “unincorporated areas” lapping over one another in a profusion of profound ugliness. The mild climate allows millions of people to live in poorly-built and even more poorly-maintained shacks, and hundreds of miles of streets are lined with a mind-numbing array of the least-appealing retail operations in the U.S. If you’re a visitor, and focusing on the beaches or the mountains or the museums, you might not notice it. If you have to drive to West Covina or Cucamonga, just keep your eyes on the road and don’t look left or right.

5. Highway signs – Lots of places have poor highway signage, but in Los Angeles and California in general, it’s apparently written into the state constitution. Heaven help the visitor who gets on the highway and has to figure out if Long Beach is north or south of them in order to know which way to turn.

Honorable Mention – The Los Angeles Times. Don’t get me started.

And 5 Good (possibly even great) Things

1. Clay Tracks – As in running tracks. When I grew up after the Civil War in the rust belt, running tracks were composed of black cinders because a) we had to do something with all those cinders from the blast furnaces and b) they held up during all the rain and absorbed heat so snow would melt off faster. For those schools not yet well-endowed enough to have artificial surfaces, the surface of choice is hard-packed clay. Man, running on tracks like that is just too good to believe.

2. The Hollywood Bowl – If you have a chance to visit here during the long summer season, go to the Bowl some evening. Sitting in the California night listening to music (and they have all kinds of music) is one of the great LA experiences.

3. The Getty Museum – If you had UNLIMITED WEALTH, what would you do? J. Paul G. endowed a fund to offer free museums to the public. And he had several trainloads of Renaissance art, Roman and Greek and Asian antiquities (not all of which, we hope, was looted), and a bunch o’ paintings and photographs and other stuff that he built, first, a mock Roman villa and then, later, a mammoth modern hilltop enclave to house them. Coming to LA? Go to the Getty. Either one. Will give you great ideas on what to do with your own unlimited wealth when it arrives. The settings are just as magnificent as the collections, and even if you don’t think you’ll like anything they have to see, go there anyway.

4. Farmer’s Markets – There are a plethora of weekly farmers’ markets that operate in towns and cities all across Los Angeles. While all the supermarkets have the same bananas and grapes and oranges and other stuff picked 2 weeks before and shipped in from Chile and New Zealand, these are the real places to get actual food, sold to you, usually, by the people who grew them up in Tehachapi or out in Saugus or lots of other places. It’s not cheaper than the supermarkets, but you get what you pay for, for once.

5. Architecture, in general – One of the beneficial outcomes of the amazing crazy-quilt growth of Los Angeles over a couple of hundred years is the endless variety of the architecture. Whether you admire old Spanish adobe or art deco or extreme modernism or cozy little bungalows, Bel-Aire mansions, meant-to-impress public works, roadside kitsch (see Motel sidebar to the right) or craftsman-era woodworking, it is here in inexhaustible supply. Landmark works by Richard Neutra and Frank Lloyd Wright and Quincy Jones and Frank Gehry or the already-mentioned New Getty by Richard Meier . This is an architectural showcase it would take most of a lifetime to see, even if you made a concerted effort.

Idag känner jag ett lugn. Inte alls stressad över nånting. Det är inte likt mig! Men jag gillar det skarpt =)

Helt plötsligt känns det inte så farligt att Western har strandat för en stund. Det bandet var ju det jag la väldigt mycket energi på innan.. Men nu har jag nog ställt om och facear the facts. Vi kommer inte komma nånvart om vi inte får leka utan krav igen. Det behöver vi och  nu har jag förstått det. Skönt! Har gått runt som en äggsjuk höna med prestationsångest hela hösten och vart less på att musicerandet har stannat av… Men man kan inte göra allt samtidigt =).

Fick lax hem i brevlådan idag! Nej… naturligtvis kom den inte genom brevinkastet.. Utan i en stor frigolitlåda. Tillsammans med en Whiskycheddar ost. Så gott med lite gourmétgrejer! Ett supékort som jag glömt av. Fick i Julklapp av jobbet förra året. Tack jobbet!

Så nu har jag myst med lax och ost… Mums!

I was in a pickle.

The Ontario International Airport is too far!

I happened to pick that name because I was looking up information and someone from California had written the name of that airport.

I assumed it was in California.

the ontario international airport Terminal Way, Ontario

My final draft for The Calamity Girl was completed and now I find out that the airport is too far from the residence area?

So I read several pages in Frommer’s California 2007 book about Orange County in California.

Then I did some more research on-line.

I picked out an airport that was on the map, right next door to where my characters were staying.

I tried to Google El Toro Macs.

Nothing came up.

I went back to a Google Map and realized I had spelled it wrong!

It’s El Toro MCAS!

I found El Toro MCAS in Irvine, California under Wikipedia.

El Toro

Then I did some reading about the history of the place.

It turns out it’s no longer used as an airport. (according to those notes)

Great!

I can’t have my characters flying there!

So I asked Google, which airport is closest to Cote de Casa.

No response.

I tried again.

Google, which airport is closest to Los Angeles, California?

It brought up 4 possible airports.

Good, now I’ll cross reference them in my maps and found out that John Wayne Airport is only about 30 minutes away from where my characters would be staying.

I went into part six, and fixed my airport boo boo.

I felt much better.

john wayne airport anaheim california

john wayne airport anaheim california hangar

Melbourne Direct

* Book before 19 November 2009
* Fly before 9 December 2009 or between 17 January – 31 March 2010 (subject to seat availability)

Other Options available
There are options a-plenty for those looking to travel to India from Australia. Singapore Airlines and Cathay Pacific each operate one service on every day of the week. Thai Airways operates five flights per week, one per day excluding Tuesdays and Sundays, whilst Malaysia Airlines operates four flights per week, with a service every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. www.melbournedirect.com.au