Getting Sheepy With It

This turned out so good, I just had to post it. I made lamb a couple of times this year - I've always enjoyed it, never tried to make it. I suppose that's the culinary equivalent of "long time listener, first time caller." In the spring, I made braised lamb shanks with Provence style navy beans. I rubbed them with herbs de Provence and braised them on the stovetop in wine and spices for 3-4 hours. They were very tasty indeed! As were the navy beans, simply made with white wine, butter, mire poix, herbs, etc.
While these were really tasty, I was stuck on the idea of the leg and the traditional Sunday roast. There's something very enticing about doing work around the house or yard, sitting around with a good book, or watching an anticipated sporting event with the smell of yummy roasting meat filling the house. I roasted several chickens, smoked some pork shoulder, chickens, ribs, even a turkey for Thanksgiving. Through all of this, there was a thought that persisted in the deep recesses of my mind - leg of lamb. Not some shitass overcooked mutton jerky with mint jelly, a moist, flavorful, sensual roast that would fill the house with delightful aromas and burst with flavor in every bite.
I read through several recipes online and in our menagerie of cookbooks until I felt I had a grasp on the concept. I tried my first one in the fall and wasn't wild about the results, it was tasty, but not great. I didn't have it deboned by the butcher and I don't really have the knife skills to debone one myself. I was even less confident of my ability to successfully (and cleanly) debone the roast after reading Alice Waters' description of how to properly corkscrew a leg of lamb in her latest book. On a side note, I had to laugh when I read it because she was telling the story of making lamb nightly at the Union Hotel in Benicia in the 80s; I worked in the kitchen at the Union in the early 90s. I put the roast in at high heat for 20 mins to let it brown, then tented tightly with foil, turned it down to 275 or so, left a note for Michelle with instructions for checking it, when to take it out, etc, and promptly went out to play golf.
En route home from Mare Island, I called Michelle to check in on our little one (the leg). She pulled it out on time and set it on the cutting board to rest. It turned out okay, but lacked moisture. It wasn't dry, but it wasn't moist either. The flavor was great, but the dryness was a disappointment and the bone and associated tendons were an obstacle to carving. I quickly decided that I needed to have the bone removed and try braising on my next run.
This brings me to yesterday's meal. And what a meal it was. Legen - wait for it.... dary. So, here is what I did. I got a 5-6 pound leg of lamb from Sonoma by way of Vallergas market in Napa and asked the butcher to debone it. He butterflied it, which, after reading Alice's story of corkscrewing and really wanting to see it done by a professional, was a bit of a letdown. As it turns out, butterflying the roast made it easier to season it. So, when I got it home, I rubbed it with olive oil, grey salt, pepper, and herbs de Provence - inside the butterfly section as well - and trussed it with some kitchen twine. I wrapped it in plastic and let it sit in the fridge for two days. One could, conceivably, cook it same day, but I really wanted to let the salt and herbs work on the meat for at least 24 hours. Come roasting day, I took the roast out to let it come up to room temperature, a critical step for good roasts, steaks, and the like, and heated the oven to 475. When the oven and roast were ready, I put the roast in a dutch oven (any oven safe roasting pan will do) and put it in the oven uncovered for 20 minutes to put some color on it. Then I uncorked a bottle of white wine - I used a Bonny Doon 2006 Pigato - and put it on the stove, brought it to a boil, and let it reduce for five minutes. When the 20 minutes were up, I backed the oven down to 350, added the reduced wine, covered the dutch oven and put it back in for 2.5 hours, basting every 30 mins.
At the end of the roasting time, I removed the roast, placed it on a cutting board to rest for 20 minutes and turned my attention to the brown bits and wine reduction in the dutch oven. To these, I added vegetable broth and whisked fervently to loosen and integrate the brown bits - good thing I didn't use chicken or beef stock as it would have been too rich. I couldn't help but taste some of the little brown gems - they were packed with flavor like a lamb demiglace. While all this was happening, Michelle was making broccoli and creamed potatoes with horseradish (I'll post this one some other time - oddly enough it's a variation of a recipe I learned while working in the kitchen at the Union Hotel). I finished the sauce with a reasonable hunk of unsalted butter, then took it off the heat. The roast was so tender that the carving was more like a controlled demolition. As soon as I removed the truss, it was falling apart. I chipped off several pieces for each of us, dressed them with the pan sauce and put some on the potatoes as well.
During dinner, we spoke of nothing but the meal, each bite was punctuated by oohs, aahs, sighs, and groans. It was a very, very, very rich meal, but hey, it's Christmas. I would have been very happy to have been served this dish in a restaurant, so I consider it a rollicking success. I'm really looking forward to leftovers today, perhaps warm lamb piadines with field greens tossed in truffle oil...

Here, kitty kitty...

So, walking to work each day, I pass a gallery. From the street, you can see this enormous painting in the window and it catches my eye every time I walk by. It's big and bright and the colors seem rich, velvety, sensual, dare I say, stimulating. So, I keep meaning to look up the gallery online and check out the painting. I looked it up this morning and, as it turns out, it's a painting of a Thundercats action figure from 1982, and, as it turns out, I was really into Thundercats in 1982. The artist is Robert Burden - here's his site. Clearly, that was not an interest that stood the test of time. Still, it's pretty bitchin'. Click on the picture for a better look.

Yaaay! Fun Day!!!

Yaaay!!! Got to play some golf with my sweetie today. We had a really great time playing at Mare Island and met a very nice couple. It was a beautiful, sunny, breezy northern California summer day and I couldn't picture a better way to spend it than golfing with my Love.

Beer!!

What could be better than beer, you say? Beer with Legos!!

How Cool is This?

Pretty freakin' cool. See the story on LaughingSquid.

Photo Friday - Vacation

Ahhhhhh.......

Sumo

No real reason behind this - just saw this pic and got a kick out of it.

And then I'm all, "ooooohhhhh"

So, interesting day thus far (as I have low standards for entertainment). Had a nice ferry ride in chatting with Michelle C (see link to her blog at right) and The Dohmer (former coworker). I was feeling a tad hungry after my workout this morning (20 mins of invervallic training on the bike followed by some core strength training (and a nice quick steam). So, I don't have any cash on me, but I'm not worried - everybody takes debit. I belly up to the counter at Golden Gate Meat Co for some yummy goodness. Well, they've got a sign for a new thing - steak and egg sandwich for $7. Steak and eggs sounds good, but I already feel like I'm getting fiscally cornholed spending five bucks on a breakfast sammich. So, I ask for the "regular" breakfast sandwich.
I swipe my card, put in my PIN, etc, and I notice she's charging me $.25 for using the debit card. Normally, I resent being charged a fee for these kind of things, but I'm in a good mood (and I'm really hungry) so I just leave it be. I pay my $5.25, get the sammich, and start walking. So, I'm still in the Ferry Building, I've got my sunglasses on, so I can't see really well. I open up the wrapper on the sammich and take a bite and the bacon doesn't taste right. It's NOT smoky, it's NOT salty, it's just kinda wrong. I stop and look at the sandwich (now with a huge chunk out of it) and figure out IT'S STEAK - once I recalibrated and expected to taste steak, the sammich was really good.
So, that's it - no real point, but, that's life.

Sea Ranch Photos

Vacation was great. I have photos to prove it. Michelle and I both enjoy taking photos and our pics alternate between snapshots and more esoteric compositions. Here's a mix of both. We headed out on Sunday morning, making a quick stopover for breakfast burritos at Whole Foods in Petaluma. From there, we headed out to Highway 1 and cruised up the coast. Here's a shot of the coast road just north of Bodega Bay.



Once we got checked in at the rental house, we took the puppies to the dog park for some ball time. They love the dog park at Sea Ranch - it's huge and they can run full out, sniff, dig, play ball. Here they're waiting for me to throw the ball. Notice the intense focus!

Here's a shot of Michelle at the park


We weren't really sure what to expect of the weather for the week. On our previous trips, it's been cool and foggy with an almost persistent mist. This time, it was gorgeous! Clear, blue skies, mid sixties to low seventies, moderate wind (one day had high winds in the afternoon), clear skies at night for star gazing. It was amazing.
We secured provisions for the week at the Surf Market in Gualala (our favorite local market) and headed back to the house. Here's my idea of relaxing at the coast - beer, chair, ocean view, warm sun, cool breeze... Marz has similar views on vacation - although he doesn't drink beer.

Most days, I was up before dawn and I spent a couple of mornings watching the colors of the landscape change with the rising sun. We took a sunset walk along the bluff one night and got some interesting photos.

Sunset along the bluff. This is just down the trail from the rental house near Shell Beach.










A driftwood sculpture sat out on the bluff, overlooking the meadow.

Awash in the rich evening light, it's difficult to find a more beautiful part of the country.

Michelle surveys the incoming surf.

Remnants of aquatic flora washed up on the shore, some of which appeared entirely alien.

Ultimately, the sun sat in dramatic fashion, casting a warm blanket of orange light over the cool shore.

















Michelle created an anniversary tableau on the beach.

This was, after all, our anniversary trip. We had dinner at the house that night - I made pan roasted frenched veal chops, asparagus, and a green salad. We had an excellent bottle of Ponzi Reserve Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley. Overall, we ate well all week. We went to Pangea in Gualala for dinner one night and had an outstanding meal with a bottle of Wolf Blass reserve Shiraz (an amazing wine).

We had lunch a couple of times at Bones' Roadhouse, the local BBQ/Biker hang - I recommend the Texas Brisket sandwich with house made potato chips!

The dogs had a great time. They finally destroyed their rope toy. Michelle got this shot - I love it. One of the great things about the house we rented was that it had an atrium where we could let the dogs run around. They could go out and sniff, explore, hang out, or whatever. They also had a great view of the deer and jackrabbits that came through the meadow. They made a significant fuss the first time a group of deer came by the house - you would have thought we were in imminent danger of a deer uprising.

I like this shot. This was the end of a delicious gin and tonic after a tough round at the Sea Ranch course. I took this by setting the camera down on the armrest of the chair and letting it fly. I think it turned out pretty well.






We had some camera fun in downtown Gualala on Friday.

This one was fun (note the reflection).




There was a Pirate Faire in Gualala on Friday. So, there was a Pirate Festival in Vallejo recently - it was big and pretty cool, actually.

The Gualala version was much smaller; just five booths, all of which were run by the organizers. We popped by for six minutes and took in the sights.



The Sea Ranch Chapel is probably the most interesting structure on the Mendonoma coast, at least to me. We stopped by on Friday afternoon for some snappies - there were lots of interesting things around the chapel.

The unique architecture of the building makes it seem organic and naturally occurring; I find it difficult to picture people actually building it.

The roof line almost looks like a spine - interesting how it curves and twists and how the shingles are layered like feathers or scales.





There's a fountain outside the chapel entrance. It was difficult to get the water in focus - I ended up having to trick the camera to get this shot.

































Michelle got the shot below - I really like how this one turned out.We're back home now and we're already planning our next trip to the coast. Maybe Labor Day weekend?

All I want for summer vacation is a dead cell phone

Seriously, what the Hell is the deal with these damn things? We leave for the coast in, oh, about 46 hours or so. That means in 49 hours, I will have no signal, no Internet access, no Skype, no connection to the outside world but good old fashioned person to person communication. Not that I really want to talk to anyone when we're out there (except Michelle, of course), but it's nice to unplug from time to time.
The weather next week is supposed to be really nice - should be in the sixties to low seventies. Maybe we'll get some sun! I'm really looking forward to some hiking in the redwoods and on the beach, some golf, sitting in the hot tub, blah blah... Oh, and GOLF! How could I forget! I love that course! I proposed three rounds to Michelle and she didn't flinch. Will might even come up for a day to play.
Now, I just need to wrap up all the loose ends at work and home so I can actually go away on Sunday....

Okay, so...

Okay, so, golf's getting better. And worse. And better. Here's the perfect example: 18th hole at Wente - 412 yard par 4. I crushed my drive, high, soft draw, 325 yards - right down to the cart sign. The second shot was a 75 yarder (my nemesis range lately) and I airmailed the green. This keeps happening over and over.... I take a half swing with my lob wedge and hit it 100 yards. What the hell? It's frustrating too because my bestest golf buddy moved away and I'm having a hard time finding people to play with who are fun to be around, play at my level or better, don't flake, don't just drink their way through the golf course, and who are interested in helping each other get better at the game. I signed up on a site called mygolfbuddy.com - maybe that'll yield some results. I'm going to throw a posting up on craigslist also - who knows, maybe that'll pay off? Seems pretty desperate, but I guess I am at this point. Sigh...

Golf game... improving... sucking less...

Well, good news from the world of my golf game. I'm sucking a whole lot less than before and golf has become so much fun. Amazing what hitting the ball straight and the right distance can do for you!! I've been working really hard on tempo and smoothing my swing out. I played a lot during my recent So Cal trip and I was just killing it off the tee and my approach shots were like guided missiles. So, while I'm on this golfing high, I'm taking full advantage. Michelle' out of town this weekend, so I'm playing Roddy Ranch in Antioch on Saturday (finally starting to use the 12 free rounds I got with my Mare Island membership) and Mare Island on Sunday afternoon. Yaay!!

Musings from the Road

I'm traveling again, this time to Southern California for some face time (did I just say that?) with one of the company's primary vendors and to check out all the cool new stuff HP is releasing for this year. I came down to Long Beach on Sunday and am staying at the Queen Mary. It's been a good time thus far - some laughs, some tears, some cheers... Here's a brief glimpse into what's been happening.

Okay, I'm a cynic and a skeptic. The ship is haunted. Period. The first night, I couldn't sleep and I had the feeling that someone was in the room with me. When I did fall asleep, I had the scariest nightmare of my life. What really made it scary was that it was so real - I didn't really realize I was dreaming until after it was over, and even then, it took hours and repeated mental reinvestigation to convince myself it wasn't real. I love the song "Mad World" (especially the version from the Donnie Darko soundtrack), but I can now honestly debate the validity of the lyric, "the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had."

Yesterday was all about relationship building (vendor golf). I was on fire, nailing drives, lasering irons at the pins, just killing it. I had several drives over 280 yards and hit most of my irons within 10-12 feet - three of which were within 3 feet and I nearly holed out from the fairway twice. Our group shot 64 (scramble format) but we left three or four birdies out on the course. After lunch, some of us decided to go back out and play another 18 (I think it was my idea - I am a glutton, after all). The second 18 was more challenging - the wind was up, we were all sunburned and tired, and we played straight up. I played like crap the first couple holes and blew my chances at scoring well - ended up with 47 on the front and two balls in the water on #9. Turned it around on the back and shot 42 with three 3 putts. We made it in right at sunset.

Made it back to the hotel around 9 and really needed some food and sunburn treatment. I put some lotion on - there was no aloe to be found. I figured the next best thing was juniper, so I had some G&Ts with the HP guys in the bar after dinner. Hanging with geeks is really odd. We're sitting around, cackling our asses off, making jokes with punchlines like "oh, you must be a Novell Administrator!!" and "yeah, that's what you get for not properly configuring traverse permissions under NTFS!!" Completely surreal...

Off to the HP show now. I'm sure I'll have more tidbits of errata later.

Vegas Trip - NAB 2007

I feel like it's coming out my pores. Vegas, that is. I'm sweating, shaking, and nauseous and I can't regulate my temperature. I'll say first, no, I did not drink that much while in Vegas. I was very responsible. I had a good time, but I was reserved and controlled. I didn't gamble either (it's never really done anything for me - I can think of much more stimulating ways to piss away my hard earned money).

So what is it that's caused this reaction? Did I simply pick up some sort of a cold or flu? Am I processing out all the toxins that saturate the Casino air, or, was it a result of my long daily walks around the strip and beyond, breathing in aspirated shame, money, and ill fate? Whatever it is, it doesn't feel good.

The trip itself was very interesting. It was my first time going to the National Association of Broadcasters convention. I heard an unconfirmed rumor that they estimated 200,000 attendees. From the size of the crowds, I can believe it. It was spread out over several halls, filling the interior and exterior spaces of the the Las Vegas Convention Center and driving the cost of hotel rooms through the proverbial ceiling. I was fortunate to stay close to the Convention Center (.8 miles according to Google Maps). I was also fortunate to NOT stay at Circus Circus. I've never actually been there, but I've seen it on TV and I really don't like clowns, so, I think I'm good.

The hotel (Frontier) was interesting. It was a blend of old west kitsch, vintage Vegas cheese, and toothless red state flannel wearers, tearing through penny slots and packs of Winstons with abandon. Maybe I'm just a coastal elitist liberal, but I really expected to see the Clampetts roll up in the Valet area with Granny in her rocking chair, covered in bug guts from the 45 mph ride up I-15. The primary restaurant (Gilley's) is a barbecue and beer place with sawdust on the floor and two kinds of music - Country and Western.
A mechanical bull is a prominent feature of the decor and inebriated patrons shriek with delight as they are ritually thrown to the blue naugahide mat that surrounds the beast. I am not sure, but it appeared as though the operator (and therefore the Bull) took offense when a rider was particularly cocky or took an overly muscular hold of the device, as though to signal his intent to last the required eight seconds. As though it were his charge from God himself, the bull operator rewarded their vainglory with a swift and decisive trip to the mat. To add insult to injury, after downing its victim, the beast threw it's head defiantly as if to say "Mechanical Bull rules, drunken patrons drool." It should be noted, with obvious sadness, that I missed the highlight of the establishment - bikini bull riding. I'm not exactly kicking myself for this, but I'm not that happy about it either. Moving on now...

I ordered a half rack of ribs with a salad, chef's vegetables, and macaroni and cheese. I didn't really intend to eat much of the mac and cheese, but it sounded really good. The waitress (quite attractive in her hat, chaps, and bikini) cautioned me that the vegetables weren't really all that healthy; that they were green beans sauteed with bacon and onion. I was not surprised to learn that they didn't have any steamed mixed vegetables to substitute. Soon, a small oval plate, laden with limp iceberg lettuce, surely exposed to the rigors of time and heat lamps, was delivered to my table. I had no way of knowing at the time, but tomato, cucumber, and mixed cheese (jack and cheddar, I believe) were buried under what must have been nearly a cup of blue cheese dressing. I ate around the dressing as much as possible, but finally gave up on the salad. The main course came swiftly on an oversized platter with a wooden handle and heated metal plate, similar to a fajita plate. The mac and cheese was, of course, to die for. Unfortunately, I mean this literally. Presumably in the spirit of openness and full disclosure, you could actually see all the fat and oil separating from the food - no plausible deniability here. I had a few bites of it just to say I did, then pushed it away. The green beans were better than I had thought - they were cooked, but still snappy and had a mild flavor. They were clearly cooked with bacon, but not fried in rendered fat. The ribs were okay, but the sauce lacked punch (I had to request some hot sauce to get the flavor just right). The beer selection was pretty bad, so I ordered a Woodford Reserve on the rocks and sipped on that through the meal.

After dinner, I needed a walk, so I set out and headed North, up the strip. I did a big loop up the strip, over to Industrial, and back down to the hotel. It took about an hour and a half, so I estimate I walked somewhere between 4-6 miles. It was late when I got back to the hotel and I went straight to the room, ignoring the flannel and polyester clad nicotine disposal units who had by this time grafted themselves to the slot machines. After about an hour lying in bed, it occurred to me that the food probably had MSG in it because, try as I might, I couldn't sleep. I lamented my decision to eat at the Casino. As the night passed, my anxiety increased. I had a lot of ground to cover Monday and I wasn't going to perform well on no sleep. I finally fell asleep around 5 a.m. and slept soundly until 6:30.

NAB was HUGE. Got there early, got in the long, long lines for registration. Waited, waited, felt my feet swell from lack of sleep, bad food, and too much standing. Finally got checked in and started cruising the show. It quickly became apparent that the size and scope of this show was so large that there was no way I'd get to see the things I wanted to unless I came up with a plan. I decided to focus on two areas: digital asset management and file transport/replication. I thumbed through the book and found some likely vendors, made a note of their locations, and set off. I attended a few panel sessions on Digital Asset Management - a very interesting aspect of video production technology. I took the opportunity to review some specifics of our situation with the panel and got some good advice and product leads. I spent the remainder of the day perusing the booths, pressing the flesh, and checking out the cool stuff.

So, I needed to go to the ATM. I didn't take out enough cash before flying down and my dinner from the previous night coupled with coffee, breakfast, lunch, etc had all but wiped me out. I pulled up google maps and did a search for an ATM from my bank. I found one that looked reasonably close, made a note of the path I should take to get there, and struck out. By this point, it was early evening and still hot from the day. It was too hot to wear my sportcoat, so I took it off and packed it in my already bulging backpack. So, I'm walking along, in a city I don't know and I realize that I am going further and further from the relative safety and security of the Strip. Hotels, restaurants, and business parks gave way to motels (weekly rates available), bars, porno shops, and corner markets. Shady apartment complexes and dilapidated houses rose out of the dusty ground; the speeding, thumping cars and staring locals reduced my comfort level significantly. So, here I am, walking along, and I want to doublecheck the address. I couldn't remember if it was in the 100 or 1000 block. I had just passed 100, and there was nothing. Earlier in the day, on the way to the convention center, Google Maps had led me to believe there would be a branch at 101 Convention Center drive. Yeah, that didn't work out so well - no branch.

So now, I'm thinking, maybe it's wrong again - maybe I'm going too far into this bad area with a $3000 laptop strapped to my back and a "beat the fuck out of my and steal all my crap" sign pinned to my back. I can't check the bank's website because it doesn't work with the browser on my phone, and I can't very well pull out the laptop on the side of road and check it - I may as well just beat myself to a pulp, leave the laptop on the curb, and walk back to the hotel. So, what could I do? I'd gone this far (at least a mile by now); I kept going. I stood a little taller, got a cold, badass look on my face, pushed my chest out, and pressed on. Eventually, after a couple more sketchy looks, swerving cars that I thought would jump the curb, and other assorted acts of mischief, I arrived at a Von's grocery store with a small branch inside. I went in, got my cash, purchased two 22 oz bottles of Arrogant Bastard, and called for a taxi to take me back to the hotel. I checked later - the walk from the convention center was about two miles.
Got back to the hotel, held my breath, waved hello to the toothless flannel clad hicks, and went upstairs to enjoy my beer and some well earned TV time. I was happy to discover that the room had a mini fridge. The second beer would stay nice and cold. Flipped around for a little while until finding a show on VH1 about top 10 tv pranks, or something. Seems like VH1 is making its living off of clip shows these days. Comedians, D-Listers, and ex-hipsters making snarky comments between clips with the narrator prattling on about something. This show, I actually enjoyed because it featured two of my favorite reality shows (there aren't many I like) The Joe Schmo Show and Film Fakers.
I watched a few other things (clearly not memorable) and finished my other beer. Now that the sun had set (I saw it myself - through my window, no less), I freshened up and struck out for dinner. No way in Hell was I going to eat in the casino again, so I headed out onto the strip. I walked across to TI, originally with the intent of passing through and finding something else, but somehow I ended up at Isla, the upscale Mexican place inside. Michelle and I really enjoyed it the last time we were here, so I got a table, ordered a nice tequila and surf & turf, fancy Mexican style. The meal was excellent and the tequila was outstanding. Definitely made up for the night before's abysmal cuisine. After dinner, I felt like walking again - seems like the best way to stay out of trouble in Vegas is to keep moving. I walked all the way down the strip to the MGM Grand, then caught the Monorail back to Bally's and walked back to the Frontier.

Next day, I wrapped up the few loose ends I had left and got myself the Hell outta Dodge. I was feeling really run down and crappy (still am) so I hit the couch and rested as soon as I got home. Still managed to keep up on email and put some coherent thoughts together, but not much more.

News from the (sweaty) front

Okay. It's been a while since I started the working out thing and it was really tough at first. Now I'm really enjoying it and it's going well. I've started adding some more exercises and changing up the cardio a bit, and I'm really happy with the results.
I got on the scale the other morning (yes, ladies, NAKED. put that in your pipe and smoke it...) and weighed in at 246.5 - down about 20 lbs from when I started. I'm also down a pants size (and they're starting to get a little baggy) and wearing shorts I haven't worn in a while. So, I'm thinking, I've probably lost somewhere around 35-40 pounds of actual fat because I've added a lot of muscle (I'm not being vain - I'm really serious on this). I'm noticing it in all sorts of ways. I don't notice my backpack when walking anymore, I rip right up the stairs, I walk faster than anyone around me (going to and from work/ferry), and I'm regularly bumping up my weights.
The really wild thing is how it's changed my golf game. All of a sudden, I hit the ball high. Not just high, mind you, Rick James high. Really fucking high. Twice the height of the trees high. I've never been able to do that. The drawback of all this is that now I need to figure out how far I hit the ball with all the new strength. I went out to Mare Island the other day to play/practice and I was easily two clubs longer than normal. I kept blasting the ball over the green! I'm not complaining, it's just weird. So, I went out again the other night (after work) and managed to get in a couple of holes. I hit two or three shots into the green with different clubs and marked the distance with my SkyCaddie (if you golf, you need one). To my amazement, I was consistently much, much longer with each club. 5 iron: 195, 2 iron: 245, lob wedge: 115, 3 wood: chunk (I hate the three wood - maybe I'll be like Mike and get a 15 degree rescue).
Anyway, I'm not complaining - it's all good. Everything else is good too. Some minor issues with people losing their little minds, but I don't really give a fuck. Seriously, life's too short - everyone needs to just get on over their shit. Seriously. Work's great. Lots to do and I feel like I'm making a little progress here and there. Got to bring in a guy I really like working with, so that's a good time. He's enjoying the job and I like having him on the team because I know stuff will get done right.
What else.... Booked our fall vacation. We're going to San Jose del Cabo for a week, staying in a brand new resort (thanks to the fabulous Ms. Elena Garcia). Still need to book a car and all that, but that can wait. So, just have to hold out until July, then the next one is in October. I'd still really like to fit in a Bandon Dunes trip on a 3 day weekend or something. Maybe that'll have to wait until next year (been saying that for ten years now).
Michelle's been great. She took some amazing photos during her trip to Paris. I think we'll have to go back in 2008 and do it right. I think we'll spend a week in Scotland, then maybe hop down to the continent for a few. I'd really like to go back to Germany - especially Berlin. I've heard the mix of old and new architecture is amazing - can't wait to see it!!
Well, the chicken's ready and I've done enough purging for one evening. Time to chow down.

Workout Update

The workouts have been going very well and I'm starting to see benefits at the scale. I'm down five pounds since I started and at least one belt notch. It's not time for new pants yet, but they're fitting more loosely week by week. My cardiovascular fitness is improving a lot faster than I had anticipated - I'm able to blow through 30 minutes on the bike averaging 90+ rpms on a higher setting each week without blowing out my heart rate. As a matter of fact, I'm having to work a lot harder to get to my target heart rate, so much so that I'm tiring out my legs before I get there! So, I think I'm ready to step up the cardio training and start intervallic training this week.

We're playing golf at Mare Island with Will today - should be a lot of fun. The last couple times I went out, I was dramatically longer off the tee, but I'm not always sure when the additional length is going to kick in. This ought to be interesting. I've been reading a book on course design and strategy by Robert Trent Jones Jr. and I'm looking forward to putting into practice some of the concepts of the book. Hopefully I can keep on track and score well today.

Gotta scoot, shower's calling...

Loose Pants = Progress

The simplest possible math. Less than two weeks of working out and I'm already noticing improvements. My pants are considerably looser and I have taken one belt notch off my waist. In addition, the cool leather jacked I bought in January that was SNUG around my chest and belly now has a little room. I feel like part of me is melting away (what a world, what a world) - but in a good way (what a world! what a world!).
Did a quick stint on the bike this morning (just over 20 minutes) and I wish I would have gotten by shit together enough to get there earlier (on time) so I could have done more. I noticed a slight improvement in my cardiovascular performance over last week. I had to jack up the resistance to get my heart rate up and it took a little longer to get there this time. Similarly, I have noticed in my weight lifting that my stamina is increasing rapidly. The first night, I was panting and sweating wildly after the first set. Yesterday morning, I was winded, but not panting, sweating, but not dripping, until the last set of the second triplet (end of the workout).
So, overall, I'm happy thus far with the progress, I must say.

Summering at the coast

Start Thurston Howell III accent now... Looks like we'll be summering at the coast this year, at least for one week of it. We're moving up our annual Sea Ranch trip to the first week of July and I just booked our rental house. We'll be on the bluff, overlooking the water, just a short walk from some of the numerous hiking trails and Shell Beach. Yaaay.


Here's the view from the Deck:
Doesn't it just look divine? We sure like Sea Ranch! We have spent a week up there for Labor Day each of the last two years and it is the most wonderful place in California, as far as I'm concerned. If you want to check it out, get a rental house here. Once you're there, you have to check out some of the local flavors:
TwoFish Bakery (get there EARLY), St Orres (bring lotsa money), the Sandpiper, and so many more. Don't forget your golf clubs, Sea Ranch has a great 18 hole links style layout. It's some of the best coastal golf in California and it's reasonably priced at around $60 per round. If you feel like exploring, head over the hill to Boonville or drive up the coast to Mendocino or nearby Fort Bragg and have some lunch at North Coast Brewing's tap room. They have some kickin' beers and good grub. Put down a few Old Stock Ales (13+% alcohol), then drag ass down the street and get some coastal ink.
Well, the couch is calling, and I'd better heed.
Thurston Out!

Mmmmm, that's good workout!

Good workout today - bumped up the weight on a couple things, tweaked my form just a little, and did some endurance training on a bike. I've posted my workout tracker on Google Docs and Spreadsheets (bitchin tool, I must say).
I'll try to update the tracker each time I work out and post updates on weight and general fattiness progress. I didn't really lose any weight this week (1 lb - could just be water), but I definitely feel a difference in muscle tone, cardiovascular fitness, and especially energy level.
All for now,
C

Arj and Poopy

Arj and Poopy are BACK. For those who don't know, soon you'll understand. This episode prominently features Bouncy the Dog.

Enjoy!!

Valentine's Meal

Wednesday was, of course, Valentines Day. Going out to dinner on VD-Day has proven to be a disappointing event over the years, so we decided to just eat at home this year. I picked up some organic filets at Golden Gate Meat Market as well as some buttercream potatoes and red leaf lettuce at the Ferry Building produce market (the same folks who deliver our produce - see earlier post).

I made a red wine demiglace sauce for the filets (fa-bu-lous) and creamed the potatoes with milk, butter, grey salt, fresh rosemary from our herb garden, and Parmesan cheese. I dusted off a 1999 Folie A Deux Eschen Vineyard old vine zinfandel that had aged perfectly. All the tannens had softened and what was left was full of rich, dark fruit, a great mouth feel, and a brown sugary, oak-laden finish that could only be described as heavenly. It paired perfectly with the steaks and played very well with the demiglace. Then, of course, there was the salad, too.

C

So Far, So Good.

Well, working out is going okay so far. I had my first solo workout on Wednesday morning and managed to do pretty well. I didn't really allow myself enough time, so I didn't finish everything, but that's okay. I'll get more efficient as this becomes more familiar, so I'm not really worried about it. I went in this morning and did 20 minutes on a recumbent bike (and even threw in a sprint or two). Tomorrow, I'm back on weights and maybe a little cardio if time allows.

I created a spreadsheet to track my progress (of course) and will post that soon. I haven't decided how I'm going to handle the weekend since I'm not supposed to do weights two days in a row and I'd like to stick to a Monday-Wednesday-Friday weight schedule. Maybe I'll just do cardio, but go for a longer stint.

More to come soon, I'm sure.

Workout Update - Day One

Had the first session with the personal trainer tonight. She (Cathy) and her husband (Mark) were both there. Cathy will be my trainer, but she brought Mark along for input on plan development and in case she can't make it sometime.
In short, my ass is kicked (and this was just the assessment). The word of the day is squats. That's right, squats. I thought I was going to squat out my innards and two partially digested carnitas tacos. The whole purpose of this session was to identify exercises that would work for me and set weight and rep counts. I think I found my threshold quite well for a beginner.
About half way through the weight lifting portion of the program, I started having a weird sensation like someone was muffling my hearing on and off in a slow, cyclical pattern. It wasn't going along with my heartbeat and it wasn't too intrusive, but I took a break. It went away eventually, but it really felt like some odd pressure in my head. I took a break a little later, before the last set of barbell squats because my vision was getting a little flat and grey (a sure sign that it's time to take a break and breathe deeply before dropping like Lucille Austero with a case of the dizzies).
After weights, we moved on to cardio. I finally, truly understand the scene in Lost in Translation where Bill Murray is trapped on the elliptical trainer and cant get off, and is yelling, "Help! Help!!" I'm sure I'll get used to it, but I felt as though any grace or poise I'd had upon entering the room had left me like French Soldiers fleeing a combat zone.
After a few minutes (84 seconds) of that, it was clear that I am not yet ready for heavy intervallic training, so we're going to keep it to some steady cardio for 20-45 minutes for two or three weeks before stepping up the intensity.
So, here's where I stand at day one:
Height: 6'2" (this one won't change)
Weight: 259 lbs
Chest: 48"
Waist: 40"
Biceps: too large to measure. Freakishly large. Ladies - wanna feel?

All for now - more as things progress...

Joined the Gym

Okay, so we finally joined the gym. It's about time. So, I'm setting a goal for myself. We're planning to go back to Cabo at the end of May, so I'm going to try and lose 30 pounds by the time we leave. That gives me until May 25th.

I've got a call into a personal trainer - Mark, I think. Hopefully we'll be able to hook up one evening this week and work up a routine. The name of the game seems to be weight loss and cardiovascular fitness. The tough thing right now is staying away from all the unhealthy things I love: chips, beer, burgers, more chips...

I also signed us up for organic veggie delivery service. We've gotten one box thus far and I have been very happy with the food. We're really bad about actually buying vegetables at the store and then really cooking them. The nice thing with this service is that they include recipes as well for the items they bring. It may be time for another delivery...

Gotta waddle...

The Stadium Pal

I'm hoping to get this out there in time for the SuperBowl. I saw a clip on YouTube this morning of David Sedaris performing a reading on David Letterman. I'm pretty much always up for some Sedaris (David or Amy), so I was excited to see what he had to say. He reviewed a product called the Stadium Pal. I realize now that I could have happily spent the rest of my life blissfully unaware of this product. Alas and alack, I did learn of its existence; gratefully through Mr. Sedaris' reading rather than seeing it in action at a public function.



I was sure that he made this product up, so I checked their website. Sure enough, this is a real product. Really, really, really real. They've also expanded their product line to meet the needs of the oft neglected ladies. I don't actually know any women who would want to enjoy the freedom of urinating in a bag strapped to their leg, but I don't get out much anymore. Maybe a his and hers set would make an interesting Valentine's Day gift?

On the Stadium Gal page, there's a link to the product they call the "best way to complement" the Stadium Gal - The Beerbelly. This product is a beverage bladder (think Camelback) that holds 80 ounces of liquid refreshment in a low profile, beer belly simulating pouch intended to be worn under the shirt.

Check out a video of the Beerbelly in action. The Beerbelly folks are attempting to tap the oft neglected female alcoholic market as well. They understand that the ladies aren't so excited to strap 80 ounces to their bellies, but would rather add that volume to their chest. Hence, the Winerack. It is what you think it is. A bladder system that stores your covert beverage in your now overt breasts. Think of it like brastuffing with consumable products.

Okay, nuff said.

Violated!!

I'm finally calming down. Actually, I calmed down a couple of hours ago, but this is my first opportunity to sit down at the 'pooter and put fingers to keyboard. So last night (Sunday), at about 10 p.m. we were sitting in the living room watching TV when I heard a rustling in the bushes outside the living room window, four thumps on the dining room window in rapid succession, then a car speeding away. We were both confused and surprised; I put on my shoes and went outside. I looked up and down the street, but saw no sign of anyone.

Someone shot our front window with four bright orange paintballs. I didn't even notice them at first, nor did Michelle. I was furious. What in the Hell is wrong with people? I really wish I'd reacted a bit sooner. Maybe if I'd been out the front door a little faster, I could have gotten a license plate or the make/model of the car. I called the police. They sent a cruiser to check out the neighborhood. He must have been a really great cop because he flew through going about 45 mph. Only the finest cop eyes could carefully inspect the other houses for orange paintball marks at that speed.

I took a pass around the neighborhood to see if anyone else got hit and see if, just maybe, I could spot the petit merdes that were, at that point, the tiny little center of my rage. There weren't many cars out on the street and I didn't see any marks on the other houses, but many of them did not have their exterior lights on. When I got home, we wiped the paint off the window and cleaned up the splatter. In the light of day, we noticed more orange splatter in hard to reach places. Thankfully, the paint doesn't seem to dry very quickly and has an oily texture.

There's something deeply personal about this event. I don't think these kids would have any understanding of what it is to make a home and to feel an emotional connection to it. They obviously do not grasp respect for other people or the sanctity of their homes. I don't expect them to get caught, but I would really like to discuss with them and their parents how their actions affected us. Really, I'd like to kick them in the balls, but I'm trying to take the high road here.

Tattoo done(ish)...

So, Santa Cruz was fun. I picked up Ian in at his place in SF and we cruised down the Penninsula with little to no traffic. We got to Pleasure Point and hooked up with Benja for a pre-tattoo feast of personal size pizza and salad at Round Table (convenience, not cuisine, was the deciding factor here).

The new shop is nice, but it's more of the traditional tattoo shop feel with cubbies for each artist separated by half walls. This way, passers by, onlookers, gawkers, whatever, can see the whole thing go down and ask insightful questions like "gee, does it hurt?"

So, Benja got all set up, and, for a moment, there was some concern that there wouldn't be enough of the primary blue we were using for the dragon (this would make for a rough day), but he managed to eke out enough to get the job done. Once the machine started buzzing, all was right with the world. It was a nice time catching up with both Benja and Ian and we had a grand time listening to tunes, talking about tattoos, politics, spirituality, life, etc... If you need an image, picture an all male Mensa biker sewing circle where the needles are used to push ink into flesh rather than thread into fabric. Can you see it?

We did somewhere between 4-5 hours of work and I was really excited when Ben told me we'd be able to finish the main elements in this sitting. You've got to understand, this tattoo is over a year in the making, and I was so busy in the latter half of 2006 that I couldn't make it down for my monthly sitting. My other half sleeve (the Koi) sat unfinished for about eight years and I ended up having it finished by another artist (Rob at Hot Ink Tattoo in Vallejo). I did not want to let that happen again!! So, but for some detail work (more swirling, pearly effects on the elbow, adding more flowers and clouds below the elbow) and touch ups (re-doing all the black clouds because my skin doesn't hold black well) we're DONE.

Now, I try never to make fun of someone who's getting tattooed, but... There was a guy getting some sanskrit lettering on the inside of his upper arms (one side was new, the other he was having touched up) at Felix's station. That part of the arm is pretty tender, but this was a pretty small tattoo. Well, this dude was lying on a table while Felix was working on him and he was wincing, and gritting his teeth like it was the end of the world. I was in a fair amount of pain when Benja lined the inside of my arm, but we spent, oh, I dunno, five hours in there. This couldn't have taken more than an hour and a half to do the whole deal - tops.

The best part was, we were wrapping up and doing the witch hazel treatment while this guy was getting wrapped up, and apparently, even the bandage was sharp. Felix put the thing on him and he threw his head to the side and winced as though somebody had lit afire a very tender and intimate part of his anatomy. Then, with a tiny little tear in his eye, he looked over at us with this look that said, oh, It huuuurrtsss... He then noticed that the insides of both of my arms are completely covered, elbow to armpit and that Ian's arms are about 75% covered. Then the shame kicked in and he didn't look at us again.

Dude's wife got a small tattoo done on her shoulder after he was done and she took it a helluva lot better than he did. She was uncomfortable, but she wasn't being all dramatic about it. And, to top it all off, while she's getting tattooed (I think it was her first), he's talking on his cell phone (oh, yeah, nuthin'... what are you up to??). Yeah, that's supportive. When Michelle got her tattoo, I was right there, talking her through it. She got hers done by Shannon at Lyle Tuttle's in SF (now owned by the fabulous Tanya Nix - killer old school stuff). Shannon was about 1/3 done with the lining and I could tell M was getting really uncomfortable, so I held her hand and said, "You're doing great; you're almost done." To which Shannon replied, "What?! We're not even close! (pause, then realization of the psychological ploy at work) Oh, yeah, we're almost done."

But I digress....

So, after tattooing we went to Cowboy Diner in Felton for dinner. If you ever find yourself in the Santa Cruz mountains, go to Felton and eat at Cowboy Diner. It is excellent!! Bring your appetite and prepare to leave portion control by the side of highway 9. After dinner, we walked down the road about a quarter mile to a mountain bar. We ordered up some whiskies and went outside. Yes, it was damn cold, but I had brought back some Montecristo torpedoes from Mexico and I thought it fitting that we celebrate the completion of the tattoo with some fine cigars. So, we're sitting out there and pretty soon the toothless tweakers and mountain skanks come out of the bar for their nicotine an drama break. They started a fire (in a fire pit, not just out there on the dirt) and huddled around it for warmth.

We ended up chatting up some of the locals including one very drunk guy who lit his cigarette by shoving it, along with his whole hand, into the fire pit. He could do this, he told us, because he grew up without electricity and could shower with one gallon of water which he heated over an open flame. Most people, he boasted, may be able to shower in as little as two gallons, but he only really needs one. It would have been more impressive without the slurring, swaying, and staggering, but his mastery of profanity was impressive. There was also a Cousin It looking hippie guy who offered us some of the resin he was smoking, a kind yet unneccessary gesture that we appreciated, yet refused for a variety of reasons. It was something out of a gritty Indie film and I half expected Tom Waits of Steve Buscemi to come barging through the door at any time. Instead, it was like watching the off, off, off, off Broadway production of Barfly in the age of Crystal Meth. Good times...

Tattoo

I'm headed to Santa Cruz tomorrow to see Benja at Pleasure Point Tattoo to have some more color work done on my latest tattoo, a modern take on a traditional Japanese water dragon. Last year, we worked on the tattoo once a month or so (it covers my entire right arm from below the elbow to the top of the shoulder) but stopped after the June session because I got so busy with work.

Now, almost seven months later, I finally have some time to head down there for the day. Ian's coming with me to provide moral support and keep the post tattoo pain relief (probably whiskey and cigars) flowing as appropriate. I haven't checked to see what bands are playing tomorrow night, but, since it's Santa Cruz, there's bound to be something happening. The photo (right) is a little old, but it's the only one I have.

The tattoo is actually a lot farther along than in this photo. Hopefully we'll be able to get the rest of the dragon colored in and spend some time on the claw and pearl on the elbow (one of my favorite spots).