Earth Day in Central Park

Three years ago, Christo transformed Central Park. I was reluctant to spend a gray February day in the park and was fully prepared to be disappointed. I wasn't. In fact, I was converted by The Gates within seconds. The installation was magic. The scale was breathtaking, the execution was impeccable; but for me the beauty was mostly in the mood The Gates created. Everyone in the park or near it was thrilled. For three of the most dismal winter weeks, those bright orange flags made New York a sunny place. Yesterday, Central Park had much of the same vibe. Rather than emanating from the vision of one artist, however, it came from the efforts, and perhaps relaxations, of many: Pope Benedict XVI, the local Earth Day organizers, Frederick Law Olmsted and the sunbathers.



Along Fifth Avenue, throngs gathered to see the pope. Signs read "WE LOVE YOU"; some waved Vatican flags. There was lots of music and singing, mostly Latin American. Kids waited with their parents and dogs; no crying or snarling. Everyone was in a fine mood and the helicopters hovering directly overhead did nothing to dampen it. I saw Pope Benedict for a few blinks an eye, encased in his white popemobile. Lots of waving, cheering and then it was time for a walk in the park.



There were activities all over. Like the police spotters guarding the pope, Red Tailed hawks watched us from skyscrapers; we spied on them through Swarovski scopes. One meter yatching enthusiasts raced remote control boats in the Conservancy Water. Following in Dylan's footsteps, Don McCloskey sang protest songs to a new generation at the band shell. The music was part of an all day program organized by peacexpiece. Paul Kostabi provided direction for a collaborative patchwork mural, said to be the world's largest and longest "eco mural." Sunshine Burger and Wholemato handed out organic whole food veggie burgers with the best ketchup I've ever tasted. Glint and Rely Records distributed Dawn redwood seedling kits with instructions how to propgate them (and a web address to track where they are eventually planted). Lennon fans decorated the Imagine Mosiac with dozens of cut flowers.



It was sunny, warm, and positively bursting with life. The grass was lush, the daffodils and tulips were glorious, and Olmsted's trees were sprouting fresh foliage which cast a lemon lime light. New Yorkers were soaking it all in. I can think of no better place on Earth to be on this particular day.

Rogue in Ellenville

Chef Marcus Guiliano at the Aroma Thyme Bistro hosted a feast when Rogue craft brewers came to Ellenville. The five course menu was launched with Kells Irish Lager (which Marcus had on tap) to complement Marcus's spinach and apple salad with two blue cheeses (Rogue Crater Lake and Smokey Blue); the apple notes in the Kells were great with both the greens and the cheeses.

The Uber Pilsner cleansed the palate on the way to the next course: soba noodles with stir fried mushrooms and Long Island micro greens paired with Morimoto Soba Ale. The buckwheat noodles worked but the beer didn't. The beer was true to its ingredients but they are better in the noodles.

Next we had Emperor Fish with a Thai style coconut curry sauce accompanied by Rogue's Morimoto Imperial Pilsner. Both were outstanding and worked very well together. I will definitely be drinking the Imperial again. Morimoto has a big golden beer worthy of an Iron Chef.

At this point, Marcus interrupted the meal with a bonus 3 litre bottle he had been cellaring for three years: Hazelnut Brown Nectar. This could have been dessert. Rich and heavy with a hint of nutty sweetness.

Next came a couple of ales and a lamb steak with polenta and roasted onions (gotta love the onions). The Dead Guy and Saint Rogue Red both were up to the task. I'm not sure I was though.

Now came dessert: Sherry & Fruit Trifle with a glass of Chocolate Stout. Officially, there was no choice but to love the stout because the representative from Rogue had her picture on the bottle. Maybe it was the trifle which pushed me over the edge. Whatever it was, I was pinned to the mat and had to cry uncle. I never even tried the Old Crustacean. Marcus confided he still has some in the cellar.

Tyringham Cobble

Tyringham's cobble has old rock on top of newer rock. I thought perhaps this might have been caused by a receding glacier. After all, Long Island and Cape Cod are massive moraines so the ice sheet had once covered this area too.



Not so, the old rock at the peak is pre Cambrian while the sandstone outcrop at a lower was formed somewhat more recently.



This morning's jaunt on the Tyringham Cobble was an interseasonal joy. Winter has passed but spring has not yet arrived.



The air was still and crisp, the ground was frozen, most of the snow was gone but the buds were still hibernating. Once the rain arrives and the frost is out, the fields and trails will be soup for several weeks.



Quite a few parties agreed today would be a good time to walk the two mile circuit: when I arrived at the Trustees of Reservations parking lot there was one car; by the time I returned an hour or so later it had been replaced by seven others. Most seemed to walking up the gentle slope or perhaps over from the Appalachian Trail. They may have found the path down challenging.

Branzino in Boulder

Branzino resonates strongly. Several years ago in Venice, a waiter at Da Raffaele recommended branzino carpaccio. It was served in paper thin slices with olive oil, lemon and garnished with minced tomatoes and capers. I can still taste it. With that memory lingering, I have paused when ordering suzuki sashimi at Fin in Lenox, Massachusetts but Nick Macioge has never disappointed me. Apparently the Adriatic and Sea of Japan are far enough apart for both to fit comfortably on my palate.

As a first time visitor to Radda Trattoria, a hip restaurant in Boulder, Colorado, I asked our waitress what would be the best item on the menu. Without hesitation she offered branzino. A Mediterranean fish in the Rocky Mountains? Before arriving at Radda, my companions had mentioned how good the wild boar was. I thought she might retreat but the lass stood her ground. I accepted her recommendation. It was excellent. The skin was crispy, the bones had been removed and replaced with fresh rosemary, thyme and lemon. Cippolini onions on the side made Chef Matthew Jansen's creation a memorable meal.

Easter View on South Mountain

Easter Sunday seemed like a good day for a hike. Early morning light suggested it would be fine; temperatures in the teens suggested otherwise. I had planned on an outing at the Tyringham Cobble. An ascent of South Mountain in Pittsfield proved to be more inviting. The view was inspired.

Watts Towers

Los Angeles is spread out across a desert between the ocean and mountains. Perhaps because of the light rain overnight, the air this past Sunday was clear, the sky was deep blue and the snow capped mountains looked close enough to touch. I approached the city from the southeast on the Santa Ana freeway and one overpass along the way afforded enough elevation to see the cluster of skyscrapers way off to the north. I was far from the city center.



I imagine the sounds of Watts on Sunday were similar to those Sabato "Simon" Rodia heard when he moved to the neighborhood eighty some years ago. Trains jangled and whistled, people talked, the wind rustled, roosters crowed. But mostly it was quiet. LA's cars and highways seemed a long way off. In Rodia's day, they had not yet become the defining characteristics of the landscape. They still aren't in Watts.



For most in my generation, if Watts is known at all, it is for the riots which took place there in 1965. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Watts was a farming community well removed from Los Angeles proper; it was populated by immigrants from all over, especially Latin America and Japan.



In 1923, Rodia bought a wedge shaped lot along a trolley line and spent the next three decades creating the most interesting back yard in America. Using only hand tools, scrap metal, concrete, and his imagination, he built walls, fountains, and towers nearly 100 feet tall and created what our guide described as an open air cathedral. And he did it without written plans or drawings, scaffolding or any help. His creation is thought to be the largest sculpture in the world made entirely by one person.




In 1954, Rodia's gave the property to a neighbor and left for good. Five years later the city of Los Angeles Building and Safety Department declared the towers were unsafe. A stress test conceived by an aeronautical engineer proved otherwise. The Watts Towers site is now a California state park and is one of nine works of folk art listed on the National Register of Historic Places.



Simon Rodia continues to inspire. The visitor's center adjacent to the lot where he built is towers hosts art classes for the community. When I bought Bud and Arloa Goldstone's book about the towers, it was handed to me in a shopping bag. Without seeing the front, I offered to return it. I was gently advised to reconsider. I am glad I did. It was painted by the art director at the center.

Bruschetta and Beer

Carolina’s has been at the intersection of Chapman and West In Garden Grove, California for thirty years. For the past several, Tim Ibrahim has been proprietor. He does nothing in half measures. He grew up in the neighborhood and worked in F&B at Disneyland, so he knows his clientele. They expect large portions and big variety. Tim has built the largest assortment of beer in Orange County (about 200 beers). He has dozens of North American craft brews and good assortments of German, Belgian and British beers, as well as novelty beers from around the world.



Be forewarned: the well drink pours are generous and the pasta portions are enormous. You may want to steer toward pizza and beer. Bruschetta is best on freshly baked pizza bread. It is great with a bottle of Orval.