A Brewery For Every Man, Woman, and Child

I read somewhere that Oregon has more breweries per person than any where else in the world. I know of several in town in Corvallis and we've been to two so far. I haven't had a bad beer yet so maybe they are on to something.

Last night was Block 15 Brewery, right in downtown Corvallis. The list of handcrafted beers was impressive enough to warrant a second visit. The food, however, was not.

I started out with a "Trubbled Monk", a Belgian-style ale that was strong, thick, and spicy. I didn't see the alcohol content but my "gut feeling" was that it was a potent beer. I followed that with their "Aboriginale", a really complicated beer that was hard to classify. It was super hoppy and had many levels of flavor. For dinner, I had fish tacos with a side of their spicy pork chili. Not horrible but the chili could easily have been served on a plate it was so thick. They need to get rid of the sour cream and baby poop guacamole squirt bottles. Next time, I will try a burger.

One thing I thought was very cool about this place was their creed of sustainability. They use power from renewable sources and many of their brewing by-products are used in local farming. It's a good idea and appears to be well implemented at Block 15.

Cheers!

Deus Burritos

Work hard, drink hard. I'd forgotten what a week with this team can be like.

Friday night was a big dinner and send-off of some folks heading back home with it all starting at Big River. Food was decent: I had a pizza with roasted peppers and pepperoni that sounded great but reminded me of some of the frozen English pizzas we've gotten.

After dinner, we split up into two groups: those who know better and those who don't. At 3AM, I found myself eating the absolutely fantastic "Oregon Burrito"at La Conga, one of my new favorite places. I had been craving some good, nasty Mexican food and this place fits the bill. The Oregon is a mix of carne asada, potatoes, and some cheese all wrapped in a giant tortilla that is then super-heated before they hand it to you. With a dose of red sauce applied per bite, it was absolutely perfect. Highly recommended.

Saturday morning, it was off to an early start at work and then we made the drive over to Portland with the intent of going to the Oregon Brewers Festival. Technically, we made it to the festival but were too late to actually get in. Hmm, there was some martinis between our arrival in Portland and the festival that could explain our tardiness. Dinner at Jake's Famous Crawfish was our alternative and there I had a horseradish and Romano crusted steak of coho salmon that was probably the best salmon I have ever had. The fish was like butter -- perfectly cooked and melted in your mouth. Somewhere I read they had been voted one of the top ten seafood places in the USA.

Sunday, we had a late lunch at Kell's Irish Pub in Portland before heading back to Corvallis. Kell's was ok but with items like "Irish Nachos" and chipotle sauces on the menu, they should be careful saying that it's a "true taste of Ireland." I'm certain that Gordon Ramsey would have dropped some f-bombs when describing the shepherd's pie I had.

Sunday night? More burritos at La Conga. This time I custom ordered a chorizo burrito with eggs, potatoes, and refried beans. It was everything I was hoping. I was up again at about 5AM today and the La Conga had something to do with that but that's probably more than you needed to know.

Cheers!

This Guy Right Here

I had to take the blame for leading an army of people here at the job site to Bombs Away Cafe (thanks Spence!) here in sunny Corvallis. Not a big hit with the team. Conceptually, some of the food sounded good but instead of tasting like Mexican, it was like uber-bland cajun food made to look somewhat Mexican. My 'smothered burrito' was filled with shredded pork (bland), brown rice (huh?), and big chunks of tomato and onion that appeared to have been stewed. All of this smothered in what was supposed to be a green chilie stew that may have been mistakely mixed up with gumbo but the flavors were so insipid it could have been anything. The jalapeno french fries we tried tasted like they were made from fresh taters but they were mostly burned and if there was jalapeno in there, it was hiding. The English do spice better than these folks and that's saying something. I get that they were trying to do things differently -- reminded me of the Heartland Cafe in our old neighborhood in Chicago -- and they had some crazy options for "meat" like tempeh chorizo. I would try that next time except I'm pretty sure there won't be a next time.

For dinner last night, I was craving a good American burger. This led us to Clodfelter's Public House. I went for the recommended Monroe Street Monster aka Death Burger. Not as dangerous as it sounds, it was just a burger with mushrooms, cream cheese, jack cheese, and bacon. It was ok. It had a massive slab of not-at-all-warmed-up cream cheese that dominated the flavor.

This weekend we are heading up to Portland for a night. The Oregon Brewers Festival is going on and we booked rooms right next to it just off the river. Maybe that will provide some better blog fodder because I am getting bored just writing about this crap.

When Engineers Drink

It's good to be back with the team I worked with in Japan. Lots of characters in this group. Last night we met at the hotel lobby to have one drink before figuring out a place for dinner. Unfortunately, each time someone's glass was getting low, they would look around and if anyone else had more than half a drink left, it was obligatory to get your glass refilled. It became clear that the only way we were going to get out of there was if we all finished our drinks at the same time. Being engineers, we discussed the possibility of making a spreadsheet to calculate what time we would all be in synch. That never happened and we never made it to dinner and I lost count of the pints of Fat Tire somewhere around midnight.

Here's a travel tip folks:

jet lag + no dinner + binge drinking = pain

The Travel Crunch

I am truly a travel snob when I complain about the current state of World Business Class on Northwest Airlines. Sure, its great to go through the short lines for check-in, short lines for security, and to get a nice glass of champagne as soon as I get to my giant seat. I was offered more beverages on this flight than me and my college friends could handle (and that is a lot). All good things.

But the food was mostly arse. For the uninformed, that's mock Scottish for "ass". I actually had one of the best meals in my blessed life flying to Japan. Fresh seafood, good sushi, and it all clicked. Not this time.

Today, we had a salad to start -- and that is where they should have stopped. I knew I was in trouble when the steward was complaining that the menu I had in my hand wasn't really what we were going to get. I had a choice of beef, chicken, or fish and the only one that sounded good was the beef. I thought my salad was the main beef course, since it was small side salad and two very rare medallions of beef fillet. For airplane food, it was really a good dish. Then came the unexpected main course, a bunch of beef and rice -- some sort of faux Chinese preparation. If only I could have had a slice of beef pie for dessert.

The movies were way below par, too. I managed to watch 'Be Kind, Rewind' (crap), '21' (not bad), and then used 'Solaris' (huh?) as a vehicle to take my mid-flight nap. Most of the movie options were at least 2 years old. Big disappointment since this is usually my chance to catch up with the wife on movies. And what the hell is Jack Black thinking these days?

No mid-flight pizza? A bag of chips instead? Not quite the same.

Just before landing, they served another meal. Going into Japan, we would normally get a good breakfast with several options regardless of what time of day it was. This time, we got the nastiest selection of cold stuff I could imagine. Chunks of cold, dry chicken (thought it was salmon), some mayo that had started to tint brown on top, two very hard, cold shrimp, a piece of sushi (couldn't eat it), a giant bread roll that crumbled away when I touched it, and some sort of whipped fruit mousse and cake dessert. I couldn't help thinking I was eating leftovers from meals served earlier in the day. Thankfully, they served hot coffee with all this and that was exactly what I needed.

My pen then self-destructed while filling out my landing form. My hands are stained black, my jeans may have some issues, and the pen (a favorite) was undoubtedly toast. Luckily the steward was being extra friendly and brought me some hot hand towels to destroy with the ink that was just about everywhere.

Now I am glad to be on the ground in Seattle waiting to catch my last flight to Portland then a bus to Corvallis.

Til then!

On The Oregon Trail

That's right, folks, I am heading out to Oregon. I expect to lose half my companions to dysentery and starvation. And I can't even think the word 'dysentery' without reciting at least one line from The Usual Suspects immediately after.

A co-worker from my Japan days gave me a ring and asked if I'd be willing to help him out with the project he is heading up. This one starts in Oregon and ends in Osaka. It took some time to work out the details but now off I go for a week or three in Oregon. I can't complain: A Northwest Airlines World Business Class flight from London to Seattle is like a mini-vacation. A few beers -- unless the wine list looks good -- then a nice meal to start (3 or 4 courses), 3 or 4 movies, a few hour nap in my fully reclining seat, and a nice breakfast at around 10PM (I'm not sure why) and the flight is over before you know it. The 3am arrival into my final destination isn't perfect, but I'll manage.

An important part of this trip is going to be buying all the stuff I either can't find in the UK or is just too expensive. I have a long list started and expect it to grow throughout my flight. It ranges from the mundane (pumice soap to attempt to wash grass stains from my feet) to the high-tech (new lens and flash for the digital camera.) I might need to pack an extra suitcase.

Midsummer's Garden

If we've learned one thing from our first foray into gardening, its that we need a bigger garden. Just about everything grew much more than we expected. The mutant lettuce, especially the red mustard, grew several feet high and caused the smaller plants nearby to miss out on some sunshine and we had some rotting going on down low. Our tomatoes far exceeded our expectations and the five plants have merged into one big tomato bush. The zucchini plant already popped out a very unexpected baby and many more are on the way. The strawberries, though not giving us huge batches of fruit this year, are definitely doing well and should provide some good eating next year. The peppers, the eggplants... they look pretty sickly but we'll see if they give us anything to eat. The bay laurel tree we planted to fill a spot in the hedge is doing very well -- I've already used the leaves a few times for some good English cooking.



Next year, if our situation holds out, the garden will undoubtedly be a bit bigger and we'll give our crops some more room to enjoy this lovely English weather.

Under the English Weather

My wife and I have both been fighting an English cold. She had it first, then one goodnight kiss later, I was right there with her. The typical stuff: cough, aches, sore throat. Not fun. The benefit of the cold is that I am in the proper nasty mood to provide a recap of our progress with life in the UK.

I just realized this past week that over here 'moving home' doesn't mean going back to Chicago. When they say 'moving home' here, they simply mean moving to a new home or change of address. This is a relief since I simply felt the Brits knew too much about me since every website I logged on to asked me if I was moving home.

We still don't have a car. I don't even know why. The car guy claimed the Royal Mail packet of signed documents, credit card authorizations, etc. took 6 days to get to him. Uh huh. Royal Mail, by the way, is a shining star here. Most stuff is one day delivery to almost anywhere in the UK. He then was waiting for us to call and give him credit card details. I asked why he sent us a credit card authorization then. "Oh," he said, "right. There is one of those here, isn't there?" He then mumbled something unintelligble and the conversation soon ended. He was going to call last Friday and give an updated delivery date. But he didn't, which is good, because then I might expect that sort of response in the future and face further disappointment.

Our new bank, NatWest mostly came through. I have UK credit cards and debit cards with microchips in them. The missus, for some reason, only got the debit card and we had to re-convince NatWest she was my wife by filing out some more forms. This weekend we went Saturday afternoon into bustling Hereford to deposit a check in to the NatWest account so we could write checks or use the debit card. Unfortunately, it seems here the bank has to be open and you have to go inside to make a deposit. The ATMs allow cash withdrawel and topping up your pay-as-you-go phone but no deposit. I haven't talked to a bank teller in at least 15 years. I won't even know what to say.

That kid is *back*... on the escalator again!

A public service video for those out there with wee ones:

Defintion of Dumbass Tourist

Whilst on our tour of Rome, we were en route between the Pantheon and the Vatican and decided to stop off at Sant'Agostino, a church in Rome that houses a work by Raphael and another by bad-boy artist Caravaggio (this guy liked to drink a lot and carry a sword.) We had walked up the steps and were three steps in the doorway when we realized everyone was crying and wearing black. We had also somehow overlooked the hearse sitting at the bottom of the steps, loaded with casket. We left hastily and without checking out the artwork.

On my day off, I decided to try again and this time, I was able to take my time inside. This church and another, Santa Maria at the Plaza del Popolo, are two small churches that get a relatively small amount of tourists but are amazing inside. A big difference between these places and the larger houses of art and relics is that they don't mind you taking pictures; at one place they even offered a suggestion as to where to stand to take the best picture.

Sant'Agostino displays Madonna di Loreto by Caravaggio, a depiction of an apparition of the virgin with child to two pilgrims. It was shocking at the time it was painted because the Virgin Mary looks like a common person in common surroundings, not an exalted figure. Also in Sant'Agostino is The Prophet Isiah by Raphael. In the center view of Sant'Agostino, you can see this fresco on the second pillar on the left.

Santa Maria houses two more Caravaggio's, The Crucifixion of St. Peter and The Conversion On The Way To Damascus. Both these and Annibale Carracci's Assumption of the Virgin Mary are packed into the same small chapel -- hard to take a good picture here.


This wasn't the first Carracci we'd seen. The day before, we had a tour of the French Embassy in Rome. I'd read about this place in Rough Guide's 25 Ultimate Experiences Italy. You have to make an appointment and provide all of your passport details in advance. The tour itself was free (but in Italian -- just nod and smile, nod and smile) and lasted about an hour.

The embassy is housed in the Palazzo Farnese, a palace built by a family with close ties to the Church. This place was impressive and belies it relatively plain exterior. Michelangelo was one of the artists who brought the place to its current form, but it underwent several transformations. The highlight of the tour was the Carracci Gallery, a room with art influenced by the Sistine Chapel. The ceiling and walls are all done in frescoes depicting the gods of Roman mythology. Both the missus and I agreed, on some levels, the effect of this room was more intense then the Sistine Chapel. No pictures allowed here, though, and online images of this place are hard to find. I found one nice shot and included it.

The Keys to Heaven

"And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." - Mathew 16:19

While in Rome, I went to Vatican City twice. The first time was with my wife and we first did a self-tour of St. Peter's Basilica and then a very special tour of the Vatican Museums and the Sistine Chapel. I went again on my one lone day in Rome and my hope was to climb up to the dome of St. Peter's. Once I got there, I realized how lucky we had been on our first trip when it only took 20 minutes to get inside St. Peter's. This time, the line was at least 2 hours long! I gave up my plan for the dome and instead just sent some post cards from the Vatican Post Office.

I don't know much about the Roman Catholic church, but in our tour of the Vatican, our guide repeatedly showed us symbology of the keys in St. Peter's hand. The Roman Catholic church believes that Jesus gave Peter the keys to heaven and through this authority he became the first Bishop of Rome and hence was the very first pope. The authority of all popes is inherited from this. The Basilica is built over Peter's tomb (and also a pagan cemetary from way back.)

The slideshow here is from all over St. Peter's and the Vatican Museums. The magnitude of the place is hard to fathom or describe for someone else. You can see why the Vatican needed to loot many of the other Roman landmarks for the building materials and art that you see here. Recycling at its best.

If It Bleeds, We Can Make Sausage Out Of It

A friend of mine in high school, Mike Bell, used to work at a butcher in town. He often joked about how you can put anything in to sausage and no one would know. Later in life, I did some charcuterie of my own and while doing some research, learned how true this was. When making hot dogs, for example, some manufacturers use bits of bone and whatnot treated with chemicals to make them soft enough to grind right into the mix. Mmm.

When I walk into a store like the one in the pictures here -- and there are places with similarities to this in the States -- I think about how far some things have fallen from where they started. Look at this meat! I am so tempted, now that I can get it home, to get me one of them cured pig legs turned prosciutto crudo on its special little (ok, not that little) pig leg holder (see pic below) so I can just carve off a bit whenever I am inclined (which would be often).

This is where we bought most of the meat in my previous post. It is a shop right on the Campo de' Fiori.

But, sorry Italy, the best ham I ever had was when we did our tour of Spain. The first stop was Madrid and the first place we stopped in was a little bar that had plates of sliced ham. We payed an outrageous amount for a plate of paper thin slices of ham but, oh man, was it tasty. This was the legendary jamón ibérico de bellota, similar to prosciutto but in their final days the pigs can only eat acorns, imparting a complex nutty taste on the final ham.

I'm drooling.

The Spoils of Rome

I do a pretty good job of complaining about how much crap we buy on holiday (that's vacation for you Yankees). I don't like bothering with hauling the crap on to the plane, worrying about if the bottle of tasty-whatever-it-is packed in my underwear has broken, etc. Of course, I don't complain when we get home and I have some seriously tasty business to deal with.

The picture is crap but let me tell you what we got (this is just the food!)

Back row, from left to right: dried tomatoes, moscato (dessert wine), moscato, empty box for balsamic vinegar, olive oil, bucatini (tube pasta). Next row: fat jar of spicy salami spread (I think), jar with 'wick' is spicy pepper paste, other jar is some other spicy spread, grappa berta, black truffle paste, whole black truffles, balsamic vinegar, bag o' pasta seasoning with garlic and peppers. Front Row: cured meat, spicy cured meat, dried meat, some other meat.

We haven't touched a thing yet... there might be some left for travelers that make it our way.

Burnin' Man's Market

As I mentioned in the last post, Campo de' Fiori was a square not far from our hotel, Hotel Teatro Di Pompeo, in Rome. The centerpiece of it is the doom and gloom statue of Mr. Bruno. This map shows our hotel (yellow) and the square (red) to give you an idea of how we were right in the middle of things. The other markers (blue) show some of the places we went.


View Larger Map

But the square as a whole isn't nearly as dark: Each morning, it hosts one of the best fresh food markets in Rome and by night it becomes one of the most popular drinking locations. We spent some time at the morning market and walked through once the sun had went down and the transformation from one to the other was interesting.

One thing you'll see is a spigot of water running into a bucket; these spigots were everywhere and it took about an hour in the Rome heat before we were right in there with everyone else: drinking, washing our faces, splashing water on our necks, and refilling our water bottles. These things were a godsend.

Burnin' For You

"Perhaps you, my judges, pronounce this sentence against me with greater fear than I receive it."

These were the final words of Giordano Bruno, a man I knew nothing about. His haunting statue is the focal point of a plaza, the Campo de' Fiori, that was just outside our hotel.

Now, after a bit of reading, I know his statue marks the spot where he was stripped naked and burned at the stake, just after having his jaw locked into an iron gag and having a spike driven through his tongue.

Bruno was convicted of numerous crimes by the Roman Inquisition. He had some very controversial views for his era, including the whole 'the earth isn't the center of the universe' idea. He also held beliefs that had contradictions with the Christian idea of the Trinity. Further, he apparently had developed a system of mnemomics that provided him with an incredible memory. This brought him both some fame and some problems. The fame side landed him a job teaching a duke of Venice his memory tricks. The problems came when some of his critics attributed his abilities to magic. Eventually, his gig with the Duke went sour and the Duke turned him in to the Man aka the Inquisition. It was downhill from there. The final straw was when Pope Clemente VIII showed he was in favor of a guilty verdict. On February 17, 1600, he was executed.

400 hundred years later, a statement was issued during the papacy of John Paul II, basically saying they were sorry and that mistakes had been made regarding his execution. Not every one agrees, but Bruno is now considered to be a significant contributor to modern chains of thought in both science and philosophy. The statue above was erected in 1889 and gazes in the direction of the Vatican. His story has been used in several literary works, fiction and not. He also has a crater on the moon named after him.

There, now we all know a little bit more about my creepy statue pic. Cheers!

Silver Surfer

So NatWest, our new favorite UK bank, came through. We have saving accounts, tax-free investment accounts, checkbooks, debit cards, online banking, and -- soon -- even credit cards. Does this mean we will start building the coveted UK credit?

The car people have asked for money now and we had to sign official looking papers. The grey Volvo was somehow no longer available so we had to take silver instead. Whatever, just get me a car! Rumor has it we might get it next week.

But Mama, What About The Food?

I had no idea what to expect from food in Rome. Italian food in the States is probably my least favorite to eat out (this includes you, Mr. Olive Garden). Fortunately, I've read that the majority of Italian restaurants outside of Italy don't get the dishes right so most of us only have a rough idea of what Italian food is all about.

A typical Italian meal (more likely at lunch, the big meal of the day) might include a first course (primo) of pasta or antipasta (or both), a main course (secondo) of meat or fish, then dessert or fresh fruit, then some strong coffee. Of course, all with wine.

First night we wandered to a place that sounded fantastic: no menu, an old Italian lady cooking in the back, and nobody speaks a word of English. The food was very simple and not all that bad -- it just gave us the feeling that Ada, the lady in back, had decided to cash in on our tourist dollar (the place apparently had just been mentioned in several new tourist books.) The wine was nearly swill even by my standards. The highlight of the night turned out to be the worldly couple sitting next to us: they were from Israel but had lived in London for many years and were now back in Israel. We traded contract details since one of our future trips might be to their country. That said, there was a second old lady at the place who sat and talked to us for quite some time even though we had no idea what she was saying. She was the good kind of crazy and I loved it. She even let me take her picture but she couldn't really stop talking long enough to pose!

Saturday, we had just left Vatican City and were looking for a bite to eat on the way to the hotel. We were no doubt in a touristy area but ended up with a good meal. This is where I had Roman-style tripe (2) (stomach with a tomato and pecorino cheese sauce) and it was very tasty. Not like the tripe they put in Mexican menudo which too often smells like the wrong end of the stomach! The missus had a spaghetti with red sauce and small chunks of sea bass in it (3). Both dishes were simple but delicious.

Sunday night was a hunt for a place our limo driver from the airport had recommended. It was easily worth it but the walk was more than we bargained for. Trattoria Da Bucatino was in Testaccio, a funky neighborhood (a bit rough looking) built up around an old Roman landfill. We had two of the specialties: Bucatini all'amatriciana (2) and fettucini with a truffle and cheese sauce (2). The bucatini was a pasta like spaghetti but a bit thicker and with a hole in it (a tube!). The dish had chunks of bacon, a rich and spicy tomato sauce, and lots of pecorino. A typical meal out for us means we keep trading dishes and I was having trouble deciding which one was better. The food was excellent.

Monday night was a place right next to our hotel. The Hostaria Costanza served up the most refined food of our trip. To start, I had a risotto with squash flowers (1) and R had another simple dish, pasta a cacio e pepe, that was a spaghetti-like pasta with more pecorino and sharp black pepper (2). That risotta was the single best thing I ate on the trip. We followed that course up with veal saltimbocca and a mixed sea food fry (including whole anchovies and a whole baby cod). Good, but a small step down from the pasta course. We drank the house white wine all night. To finish, we went for dessert at this place: a chocolate gelato and zabaglione. Followed that up with some grappa, a strong brandy traditionally made from the grape wastes after winemaking. A meal that I wouldn't mind repeating.

Tuesday night was a place right next to our hotel (another one). The Trattoria Der Pallaro was bustling and we didn't get there until well after 10PM. It was a set menu (nothing written down, no one spoke English) that just kept coming. It started with plates of cured prosciutto crudo, black olives, fantastic little green lentils, fried risotto balls (arancini), fried savory dumplings, and super-fresh tomatos with basil and olive oil. Next round was big rigatoni with pecorino cheese (anyone else notice a theme?) and chunks of bacon -- this was a rich dish. The main course was a thick slice of roasted veal with a side of homemade potato crisps, broad beans with mint, and some chunks of buffalo mozzerala. A tart came for dessert -- it had a crust that had cornmeal in it, I think, with an apricot-ish jam on top. It reminded me of popcorn. This place had a great vibe and the meal was solid from start to finish.

If I learned anything in Rome, its that I have barely scratched the surface of good Italian food. I definitely want to go back and check out some of the other regions and see what they have to offer. I don't think I can cook this stuff at home, though. I think I would cringe when I realized how much cheese, olive oil, and bacon went into some of these dishes -- best I never know.

Cheers!

Pan Pizza

A while back, my dear wife had shown me some article about some photo software that stuck in my head. It basically allows you to take a bunch of digital pictures of the same scene and "stitch" them together into one giant picture. In Rome, I recalled this and took several series of 'panoramic' pictures: I basically stood in one spot and slowly rotated as I took pictures. Once home, after some digging, I found many of these stitching programs available, often with free limited or trial versions, that will do just what I wanted. My favorite so far is AutoPano Pro (trial version): it has a slick interface, supports a 64-bit system, and has no issues figuring out what photos go where. For a complete list, check out my favorite freeware site: Gizmo's Tech Support.

These pictures end up being so big, I haven't found a good way to fit them in the blog. The best bet is to click on them as they play below; this will transfer you right to my Google Web Album for better viewing.

In this batch:

• The Colosseum, where gladiators fought to the death against man and animal alike. They had fighting fests here where 1000's of animals were slaughtered. Pictures of both the inside and the outside are shown. This thing would have collapsed if one of the popes hadn't invested in the engineering of new support walls around 1807 to maintain it.
  
• Piazza del Popolo: A newer public square in Rome, its current version is only a couple of hundred years old. The obelisk in the middle of the square is from Egypt and is around 2000 years old.
• The Roman Forum: This was the town center of ancient Rome. It was a religous, political, and commercial center. Like a giant mall with temples and courthouses.

Cheers!

Man On The Run

One day of our Roman holiday, we found ourselves in search of a wireless hotspot so that email and such could get sync'd up. After all, there is work to be done.

It ended up we found a free WiFi zone at the Pantheon McDonald's. The Pantheon is a major landmark and is considered by many to be the best example of Roman architecture still standing. It also shares its square with a McDonald's. It was built as a temple to the many gods of the Romans (pantheon literally means something like 'temple of all gods') around 125AD. As is often the case in Rome, this temple was built on top of another temple that was even older. Sometime after 600AD, the Christians got their hands on it and made it into a church. The amazing feature of the thing is the domed roof that stands even in modern day as the largest unsupported concrete dome in the world -- it weighs in at 5000 tons. Those crazy Romans did all this without cranes, calculators, or the Internet.

One of the biggest blights on Rome was the ever-present street vendors selling fake designer handbags and sunglasses. It is actually illegal to buy a bag from these guys. I had time to kill whilst my better half was working so I was walking around snapping some pictures. Most of the action centered around the fountain in the middle of the square. Then entered the first attack wave of the carabiniere (Rome's quasi-military police force -- many of these guys carry machine guns.) The street vendors grabbed their goods and took off running. The police chased them away and out of sight.

Moments later, many of the same vendors cautiously returned to the square. Some new vendors arrived to fill in the freed space for the ones who didn't make it back. Minutes later, another wave of carabiniere rode through on motorcycles and again the cycle repeated. This happened over and over in the 20-30 minutes that I was standing there, zoom lens in hand.

To protect the not-so-innocent, I have fuzzed a lot of the images so that faces aren't as clear but you should still get the idea.

Judge Not

It's too late to blog much today but we are back in England and, not surprisingly, its raining buckets.

I was flipping through the 1700 photos I took over the last few days and thought if I had to pick just one for a quick post, this one is as good as any. This is Michelangelo's "The Last Judgment" from the rear wall of the Sistine Chapel. It was painted over an eight year period from 1534 to 1541. It depicts the second coming of Christ and then some. When it was completed, it was quite the controversy since there was so many naked bits on display. Michelangelo worked the likeness of one of his chief critics into the the bottom right hand corner or Hell. He also put his own self-portrait (just up and to the right of dead center) on a suit of flayed skin, representing St. Bartholomew, a saint who had been skinned alive. This was apparently a display of the resentment Michelangelo held towards doing this work.

Cheers!

Hot Hot Heat

It is our last full day in Italy. I am alone in Rome today since my better half had work to do elsewhere. It is hot again and the sun is quite unforgiving. We've taken some great pictures and seen things that are simply amazing. The Romans did some impressive things, not the least of which was figuring out that stomach cut up like pasta and slathered in tomatos and cheese is uber-tasty. Once we get back to a land of Internet-convenience, the blog will be busy. Stay tuned!

This Airport Sucks

Not off to a good start - I'm in the Rome airport waiting for Rachel (I have an hour or more) and boy does this place suck. Hot, dirty, and nothing works. The arrival's screen only shows planes that have already landed. So I have no idea when my lady friend will arrive. The beer is warm Heineken (one of my least favorite). But, hey, you know me, I can't complain.

Oh thank heaven -- Rachel just emailed me. She is here and I just have to find her! Ciao, babe (or whatever the fella says.)

Silly Bus

My alarm was set for 3:20AM and I somehow still woke up before it went off. Boo, on the other hand, thought I was very uncool that I made her get up when it was still dark. Even worse, I made her go outside while the grass was still wet and request that she 'do her bizness'. It is quite comical to watch her try to walk while trying not to touch the ground. She was horribly upset when she figured out I was leaving. Her friends will be there soon so not long before all will be right again in her little world.

My taxi arrived at 4:10AM and I arrived at the bustling Hereford Country Bus Station fifteen minutes later. The picture is a snapshot of the crowd I waited with until my bus, the 222 to London Heathrow, arrived. Quite a few more folks got on several stops later but I was alone with the bus driver for the first half of the four-hour trip. The bus was nice -- faux leather seats, air conditioning, and plenty of room. The ride, though, was bumpy and sleep was out of the question.

I'm at the airport and I've got another hour to kill: I've had my coffee, my breakfast, contemplated buying things I know I would never buy, read a condensed history of Italy and Italy's artistic movements, and now blogging. Unfortunately, the only route to Heathrow (short of hiring a limo or driving the car I don't have yet) that can get from Hereford to Heathrow for a morning flight is the bus that got me to the airport 3 hours early. At least I don't have to rush!

If all goes well, the missus and I will rendezvous in the Rome airport around 3PM and head to our hotel, the Hotel Teatro Di Pompeo. We have no plans tonight but tomorrow we are planning on Vatican City. Til then...

Cheers!

Wherever I May Rome

“While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; / When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; / And when Rome falls - the World.” - Lord Byron

Folks, it's that time again: Another Keptman & Co. field trip, this time to sunny Rome. My lovely wife has been traveling in Italy this week and tomorrow morning I make the trek to meet up with her in Rome, Italy. Once again, Boo gets her live-in watchers and we get to see the world up-close.

Cheers!

Do Ya Like Dags?

Last weekend, we put together another classic American food to help stave off some of that homesickness: big ol' sloppy Hot Dogs (with all the Chicago-Style fixins), baked beans, and corn on the cob. A couple of oat sodas to wash it all down. The end result was exactly what we needed.

The relish, by the way, is this stuff you see everywhere here (I think it has its own aisle at the market) called piccalilli. Tastes a lot like a pickle relish but it also has cauliflower, cabbage, carrots, or any other vegetable in the mix with the pickles. It worked.

I Cannot, I Cannot

"Love it or hate it?"

That is a recent marketing campaign for the greasy-looking, brown goo that is Marmite. This weird food has intrigued me from whenst I first layed eyes on it.
When we made our first trip over to the UK to find our new home, the B&B we stayed at had a great English breakfast. One of the condiments on the tray was Marmite. I put a bit on my toast and took a bite. My whole face puckered up - it is horribly salty and powerfully savoury like someone reduced a bottle of soy sauce down to just one drop -- and I immediately decided it was nasty, Nasty, NASTY! But then, a strange thing happened: A mere fortnight later, I found myself craving it. Such is the character of Marmite.

Marmite is made from a by-product of beer brewing. The used brewer's yeast is processed, concentrated, and seasoned in some top secret fashion to produce the final product. The high levels of B vitamins in Marmite boosted the product's popularity when it was found it could prevent a vitamin deficiency known as beri-beri that was common during World War I. Marmite was included in soldier's ration packs in WWI and was a dietary supplement in prisoner of war camps in WWII. It has also gained popularity because it has always been 100% vegetarian.

What do you do with it? Apparently, its quite common to make sandwiches with a thin layer of Marmite and soft butter and bread. Or cheese and butter and Marmite and bread. Or, another classic is Marmite and peanut butter and bread. I've tried the Marmite & Butter sandwich and I have to admit, the rich butter helps tone down the Marmite and was much more readily eaten. I will likely try to do Marmite & Cheese today. Even Starbucks UK has had a cheese and Marmite panini on their menu. For more Marmite ideas, check out the search results at RecipeZaar.

But it doesn't stop there. Just like we see bags of chips that are Tabasco flavor or KC Masterpiece flavor, the same goes for Marmite. I have tried Marmite potato crisps, Marmite crackers, and I've seen a handful of other Marmite-infused products. The Marmite crisps were excellent -- I need more of them.

I look forward to finding out which side of the Love/Hate line our visitors fall on. Cheers!

Update: Even before I could get this post out, I had a Marmite moment. I just made a toasted crumpet with cheese (cumin Gouda from Amsterdam), a layer of Marmite, and half a soft-boiled duck egg on top. Tasty! I think I'm hooked.