Jan Primus

On Friday Sarah, her father, and I were scheduled to move the last of Sarah’s possessions out of her old apartment in Eschede to her new place in Hilversum. To make the logistics of all that work a bit better, we took the train to Sarah’s father’s place on Thursday night. Even out in the far reaches of Utrecht, the train stations are hyper-modern.

Overvecht Train Station

We had long planned to head out to an old stomping ground of Sarah’s father, and as we had this particular evening free, it seemed like a good opportunity. What I didn’t know is the bar was just down the street from Sarah’s father’s childhood home.

Bakker House

The bar was an understated affair, a few tables, some stools, tap list on a chalk board, and white sheets of paper tapped above the bar listing out the bottles. According to Sarah’s father, the bar once serve a wide selection of international beers, but these days they specialize in Belgians…and good word do they ever specialize. For whatever reason, I decided today would be the day I really came to understand what a Belgian Tripel was supposed to taste like. Recently I distributed a number of bottles of a home brewed Belgian Tripel to friends and family for Christmas, but hadn’t really experienced much professionally produced tripel. Presented with such variety at Jan Primus, I figured narrowing down to just the tripels would make the night go easier… which I suppose is one way to characterize what happened next…

Round One: Chimay Tripel, Maredsous 8 (Dubbel), Floreffe Tripel (mine)

Round Two: Corsendonk Agnus, Maredsous 10 (Tripel), Karmeliet Tripel (mine)

Round Three: Westmalle Tripel (mine), Westmalle Dubbel, Kasteel Dubbel

Round Four: Corsendonk Pater (Dubbel), Steen Brugge Tripel (mine)

And not pictured here, because frankly I was too drunk to remember to document, is a cherry sour beer that Sarah and her dad ordered, but that I ended up finishing. But look! Apparently I was drunk enough that I took a photo of myself in the bathroom.

A Self Portrait

We then went back home, thanks to the steadfast “BOB”-ing by Sarah’s father (which I’m told is the Dutch term used to for “designated driver”). Once home, Sarah’s father and I enjoyed a glass of whiskey. Suffice to say, I was as drunk as I can ever remember and didn’t have the sort of restful night’s sleep one hopes for leading up to a move.

Return to Enschede

I woke up with a horrendous hangover. We went to Enschede, loaded stuff into a van, drove back to Hilversum, had food at a truck stop, and I felt beyond miserable the entire time.

Rijsttafel

After finally shaking the hangover, we added Sarah’s father’s partner to our party and headed off for a celebratory dinner of rijsttafel. You should have two questions now: (1) celebrating what? (2) rijsttafel what?

Either that Friday, or the Thursday just before, marked Sarah’s halfway point through her fieldwork. She left San Francisco on October 14, 2009 and is scheduled to return to San Francisco on October 14, 2010… and this day was to celebrate six months in (or out) of this important professional right of passage. She seems to be doing well so far!

As for rijsttafel, it’s a Dutch word for Rice Table, a communal Indonesian dinning experience popular here in Holland. I’m afraid I have no photos of our particular dinning experience, but it was quite lovely. The four of us went to a restaurant located in Utrecht recommended by Sarah’s father. The general idea is you get lots of little dishes of Indonesian food including vegetables, meats, fruits, nuts, and even eggs. I had it once before in Amsterdam two years earlier and it was so good I insisted we have it again. I think I’ll have to make sure to get it on any subsequent trip. I do wonder why you can’t find this stuff anywhere in the States. Oh, and you might have one more question, the answer to which is: no, I did not have anything to drink beyond 7-UP.

La Trappe

The next morning we headed south to the La Trappe monastery and brewery, the only Trappist Brewery in the Netherlands and one of seven in the whole world. But before we could enjoy the beer, we had to get there… which proved more complicated than originally anticipated on account of ramp closures.

Sarah and her father debate alternative routes

Thankfully the trouble was absolutely worth it. Not only was the location quite lovely, with a big cathedral, extensive monastery grounds, and a well appointed tasting room, but it was easily the warmest day in Holland since my arrival. We were able to enjoy our entire meal outside, without coats, and even got a bit of color for our trouble.

Recently opened tasting room, complete with thatch roof

Given the strength of Trappist beers, we stuck to the tasting glasses for the first two rounds to learn what we liked best.

Round One: Witte, Blond, Isid’or, Dubbel

Round Two: Quadrupel, Trippel, Bockbier, Abby Beer (Pilsener)

After which we selected some of our favorites and graduated to the big people glasses.

Round Three: Witte, Quadrupel, Bockbier

Sarah finished off the luncheon with a curious last drink, which was about exactly what you’d expect it to taste like…

Digestif: Beer Liqueur

One cannot take a tour of the facilities unless you’ve prearranged for one, which was okay because we still had to make it down to Belgium. Before leaving we stopped in to the gift shop for some items to shower upon my more beer-favoring friends and then snapped a few photos of the grounds that were accessible without a tour.

Koningshoeven

Between the good food (I had bitterballen!), great beer, and amazing weather, it was a most splendid afternoon.

Sarah and I enjoying round one

Further Southwards to Brussels

Next we drove south into Belgium and the capital city not only of the country but of the European Union itself: Brussels. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t time to visit the governmental sites like we did in London, which turned out for the best because the batteries on the camera died early on in our walk through the city center and I had forgotten to pack replacements. But that didn’t prevent me from taking the most pivotal photo of all.

Standing in line for authentic Belgian Waffles

I took a number of random photographs of other buildings, but I couldn’t really tell you what any of them were. I posted my favorites on flickr or you can see the whole set on my gallery site. I think, perhaps, the one most worth pointing out is one of the central train station.

Welcome: Nearly everything in Brussels is written in both French and Dutch

After wandering a bit we settled on a delightful mussels restaurant and each had a hardy pot full of flavored deliciousness. Could very well be the best mussels I’ve ever had… I would need to go back and try some of the other varieties to be sure! After dinner we packed up for the long drive home.

The Wine Tasting

The last indulgence of the weekend was an invitation only wine tasting in Bussum on Sunday. Sarah and I have been to a few wine tastings in California since we moved there, but nothing compared to what we found here. Not only was there no cost to get in — except having connections in the right places — but the entire operation was self-pour. None of this “only have a little bit of each, measured out by a dude” business here… no, sir.

If you liked something, you poured yourself another taste to be damn well sure…. Want to get the commentary of a fellow attendee, make sure to resample with them…. Think you should buy a bottle, take another taste first…. Of my favorite wines I’m sure I got near to a full glass worth. Spread around the tables were copious amounts of cheese, olives, and bread, as well as strawberries and chocolate covered coffee beans for the dessert wines. Oh… and did I mention there were some 80 different wines open there?

It was amazing, just amazing. And much of the wine was really good. I especially enjoyed trying several different takes on the same grape, as you don’t normally get to do that at a wine tasting since they tend to carry only one winery. In the end, the dessert wines won first prize for me, and I purchased several bottles — don’t worry, they aren’t all dessert bottles — to bring back to the States for distribution to those who appreciate a good wine.

We wrapped the weekend up with an Iranian home cooked meal back at Sarah’s father’s house called Abgoosht. Wow, was it ever good! As a fan of mashed potatoes and of lamb, this was sort of a marriage made in heaven. They told me it was Iranian trucker food! Maybe I’m living in the wrong country…or at least, working in the wrong profession?

Other than a few odds and ends during the week, this catches us back up to our trip to Paris, for which we leave tomorrow!

Monday Morning in the Underground

The past two days in the underground were both fairly subdued, in terms of crowds. Oh sure, we had standing room only on a few trains, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But today was a work day, and our trip began at Victoria Station, a serious transit hub for our area of London. The consequence is that there were people, so many people, crushing into each other in order to get into their train. But here’s where London surprised me. Once we had all pushed through the pay-gate choke points, the mass of humanity rarely, if ever, was an issue.

Yes, I took a picture of the energy billboard

Even when we got down to our platform, the trains came so frequently that there was rarely a pileup of people worth commenting about. In fact, there was a large billboard extolling the virtues of a particular energy company which I started reading just as an earlier train was leaving…and I was only able to get through the first half of the copy before the next train arrived. Now, I don’t do a lot of SF MUNI travel during rush hour, so I can’t speak to that situation in San Francisco. But I sure can say that on the weekends there are plenty of times when the mass of people waiting for a train outstrips the eventual train’s carrying capacity. Someday it would be great if SF could learn a thing or two from London transit.

The British Museum

Two subway lines later and we had arrived at the British Museum. Like so many of the cultural centers in London, admittance is free. That’s great if you don’t want to spend much money to see amazing things, less great if you don’t want to see amazing things while being surrounded by dozens of school groups. But I had long since mastered the avoidance of such children during my time in Washington DC where the school groups run thick through the Smithsonian.

The British Museum

In truth, I’m not really sure how to do justice to the British Museum. We spent nearly three hours there and entered only a small fraction of the rooms, and spent only a fraction of the time one could spend looking at each room. You could easily spend every day for a month looking over the collection and still have more to see. I guess that’s one of the benefits of being a colonial power who brought stuff back for its citizens to view.

Big Egyptian Heads

Sarah and I had a good conversation about the topic of historic preservation. Seems that Greece, as well as several former British colonies, has requested their stuff back, a request with which I can certainly sympathize. The problem is the claim seems to be presented as “you stole this stuff from us,” which, in a certain literal sense, is true. But the British retort boils down to “no, we saved this stuff from you.” And, again, that’s not entirely untrue either. Several of these countries have had a great deal of political and social strife and what artifacts and installations were left behind have not fared well. My understanding is the British have been returning some items, but is otherwise taking a bit of a paternalistic stance. It’s all very interesting.

Ancient Assyrian Temple Gate

Anyway, if ancient stuff is interesting to you, take a look through the photos from the museum I posted online. I will mention two highlights of the exhibits we saw.

• 

  Macro Clock

  Clock Exhibit: While hunting for the room on the Roman colonization of the British Isles, we stumbled upon a random room dedicated to clocks. Clocks of every size and type, from pocket watches to giant grandfather clocks. But the coolest part of all was a macro-sized display showing the basic elements of a mechanical watch. I was finally able to understand how my pocket watch works and how it is not all that different from a grandfather clock. Totally awesome to figure stuff like that out.
• 

  The Rosetta Stone

  The Rosetta Stone: I probably would have missed this if Sarah hadn’t pointed it out, because the exhibit was perpetually surrounded by little children. But there, in the heart of the Egyptian gallery, resides the Rosetta Stone, perhaps one of the most symbolic artifacts of all archeology, to say nothing of completely unrelated fields like cryptography. Perhaps most surprising, when I took a close look at the stone, is just how much of the hieroglyphic section is missing. Compared to the other two sections, demotic Egyptian and classical Greek, the hieroglyphic chunk is probably only a bit over 50% complete. But still wicked cool.

Seven Dials

Leaving the museum we headed back into the more youthful areas of London for a quick look at Neal’s Yard near Covent Gardens. Apparently Sarah used to come here to read and drink coffee… now a days it is home primarily to a large salad bar, as well as Neal’s Yard Remedies and a glorious cheese shop. It was one of the more colorful places I saw in London.

Neal's Yard

Next we finally entered a Caffè Nero. I say “finally” because Caffè Nero, an Italian-style coffee chain, is freaking everywhere in London. Think of it like Starbucks in Seattle… there were times when two Neros would be but a block away. And wherever you found a Caffè Nero, a Pret-a-Manger could always be found close by. It became a sort of a game for me, whenever I saw one outfit to see how long it would take to spot its complement.

Looks like a Starbucks... Smells like a Starbucks...

Anyway, after poking fun at Nero for three days straight, I figured it was time to try out London’s answer to Starbucks. Incidentally, London does have Starbucks, just far, far fewer than your average American city. I ordered a white chocolate mocha, as is my customary “coffee” drink in the States, and Nero made a perfectly acceptable version. I did take a certain measure of delight that Sarah, an independent coffee aficionado, claimed a chain like Nero as her cafe of choice in London. Interesting how different sides of an ocean (and an Italian-style cappuccino) can change a person’s perspective….

After coffee we headed back to Princi, which I have since reviewed on Yelp so you can read all about it if you like. After a lunch of wood-fired pizza slices, Sarah and I shared an Italian-style chocolate chip cookie best dipped in coffee and an amazing ricotta and cherry dessert there that was freaking outstanding. Delicious.

Sarah picking out our lunch dessert

Regent Street

Our final activity in London was to attempt some jeans shopping for Sarah (who has dropped a dress size and thus everything she owns is too big)…but there’s something about jeans shopping in a super trendy location like London that is quite off-putting. Perhaps that’s why places like the GAP are so successful. The boutique stores have such an air of judgment that you feel the only way to go in is to already meet their “standards”. Suffice to say, we didn’t buy any jeans.

Not actually Regent Street, but very near and more trendy

We also stopped into the Apple Store in hopes of catching a glimpse of the new iPad, but sadly the iPad has not yet crossed the Atlantic. Also, don’t bother to try and purchase a power cord for your Time Capsule with a European plug on it… or really any plug-style for that matter. Apple does not sell replacements. Apparently it’s okay to move your iPhone across the ocean, but don’t plan on taking your backup system with you.

Headed “Home”

Finally we made our way back to the hotel, picked up our luggage, and boarded the Gatwick Express, engendering another set of jokes about the Hogwart’s Express. We arrived at the airport with tons of time to spare, so we ended the evening in a French style café as a means to begin the transition to Parisian food. Thankfully, this was before the Icelandic Ash Cloud of Death descended upon European airspace, so our flight was entirely uneventful. Next up: two weeks in the Netherlands plus the Weekend of Beer + Wine. Let’s hope I write those posts before I board the train for Paris.

On board the Hogwart's Gatwick Express

Morning in London

Luna Simone Hotel boasts a complementary home cooked meal every morning for its guests, so we woke up much earlier than the activity of the night before suggested was wise, and headed down to the breakfast room. The menu involved picking one item out of three food/drink groups. You can have coffee or tea (I always had the tea, complete with milk!); two boiled eggs; tomato and cold ham; or bacon and fried eggs; but the real head scratcher was deciding between orange juice or cornflakes. How, exactly, are those mutually exclusive items? It was also fun to pick out the Americans by seeing who was demanding to order “off menu”… in particular the demand for bananas.

During breakfast we planned out the day’s schedule which, at my insistence, was to begin with a ride on the double-decker bus out to Ludgate Circus. Best as I can tell, there are two sorts of double-decker buses in London. The first are the tour buses, which are often open-air on the top level and look very similar to the tour buses seen around San Francisco. The second type of double-decker bus is an entirely unique experience for me: the metro bus. Almost every public transit bus was double-decker, so in that regard it wasn’t anything all that special… but I still insisted we sit on the top level and as near the front we could manage every time we road one. The view is quite cool, but it’s not really ideal for taking decent photos, what with the moving and the plane of glass between the camera and the subject.

View from upper deck

St. Paul’s Cathedral

Arriving at Ludgate Circus we walked a stretch of Fleet Street up to the cathedral. Apparently, it was along this stretch that an old college friend of mine who recently moved to London thought he saw someone like me, but wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until later that the encounter was confirmed over Facebook that either of us knew. But seriously, what are the chances?!

St. Paul's Cathedral

Arriving at the cathedral we confirmed our suspicion that entrance was limited to worshipers,  which I was not prepared to masquerade as just to get into the church. We were able to take a gander at the space underneath the cathedral–where the gift shop has been setup–and the choir singing above filtered down through slats in the main chamber floor. Sounded quite nice. I also confirmed a long held belief that it is trivially easy to take good photographs of cathedrals. You just stand underneath an impressive tower or arch, point the camera up at a bit of an angle, and snap you’ve got yourself a magnificent cathedral photo.

See, it's easy to take good cathedral photos

Queen’s Walk

Just down from St. Paul’s is the Millennium Bridge, built at the same time as the London Eye to celebrate the start of the 21st century. It is unique as a Thames span in that it is pedestrian only. The big upside is you can stand in the dead center — usually reserved for stupid cars — and take amazing pictures of St. Paul’s dome on the far end. Just across the river is the Tate Modern, one of the big fancy art museums in London (with free admittance) and the reconstructed Globe Theatre.

The Millennium Bridge

Sarah and I had wanted to attend some sort of theatre event while in London, and one of the Shakespeare performances at the Globe was at the top of our list, but in the end we bagged the plan because there was simply too much to do already. That didn’t stop us from poking around the outside of the Globe to see how modern day builders were able to recreate construction techniques from 1599.

The New Globe Theatre

Leaving the Globe we began our long trek towards the Tower Bridge along the Queen’s Walk. This took us past a museum dedicated to “The Clink,” from which the nickname for prisons originates. We also stumbled upon the Vinopolis, a wine “tunnel” tourist location build on the grounds of an ancient Roman wine store. Seemed to have several nice looking places to try and buy wine, but as this was a trip for beer, we didn’t linger long.

Eventually we wound our way back to the river side and stopped for lunch at a pub. This time I avoided the temptation for fish and chips and convinced Sarah to share a platter filled with assorted pies… beef, chicken, as well as a Cornish pasty and a couple of other miniature pies. While the stuffing was always good, what I really fell in love with is the crust of these little treats served with generous helpings of gravy. Delicious! We tossed back a couple of beers and walked the last little bit to Tower Bridge.

Lunch Pub on the Thames

The London Corporation

Coming from the south side of the Thames, before one even arrives at the Tower Bridge you pass by a massive structure of steel and glass. The whole thing struck me as quite different, even for English modern architectural design. Indeed, later we would research and discover the site was the home of the London City Hall. Now, I’m still not 100% clear on the administrative structure of London, but best as I can figure out, London is comprised of many many smaller “city” units, each with their own city hall, mayor, and distinctive street signs. Overseeing this broad assortment of polities is the omni-present London Corporation. If you bother to read the plaques that adorn most monuments in the city, you will see the London Corporation’s name.

What a City Hall!?

Recently, the London Corporation was granted its own sort of city-hood, complete with a mayor, and this massive glass structure is its home. I’m still not clear if the “City of London” is co-terminus with the London Corporation, or if it’s another distinctive agency. What I can say is that we watched a bit of BBC news recently and everyone, yes everyone, was concerned about the “Economy of the Capitol”, even if they were interviewing folks way up in northern UK. I guess that’s what happens when you have one really big city.

This is just the formal City of London, not greater London

The Tower Bridge + Tower of London

Finally we arrived at our location, the famous Tower Bridge. If you’ve seen the new Sherlock Holmes movie, I’m inclined to believe the bridge that features prominently in that movie is either the same, or modeled after, the Tower Bridge. As a result, every time I spotted it on the skyline I would remark to Sarah, “What an industrious empire.” (At which she would roll her eyes). The bridge itself is quite impressive from an engineering history perspective…but if you’re not really into that sort of stuff, it’s just a bridge and serves as a good means to cross the Thames.

Tower Bridge

But once you do cross the Thames, you arrive at the infamous Tower of London.  Sarah had told me it was famous for being a prison, so it didn’t initially hold my interest as a place I wanted to spend a ton of time. However, it turns out that the Tower of London is in fact “Her Majesty’s Royal Palace and Fortress” as well as the site of a number of historically significant prisoners, and served as the stronghold for the throne for centuries. In addition to the prison, the Tower has moats and drawbridges, and big buildings and everything. It would have been super cool to go in… but, alas, we did not schedule for it, so we just snapped a few shots and read a bunch of outside informational guides. My next trip back to London, I will be sure to take a proper tour.

Main Entrance to the Tower of London

Getting to Greenwich

Early on in the planning process for this trip I expressed a desire to see the Greenwich Observatory, which much to my surprise, Sarah had never gone to see during her years as a denizen of London. Which meant she wasn’t entirely sure how to get to Greenwich, but thanks to the handy London transit authority map, we were able to chart a path using the light rail which services the areas out of the city core. Unfortunately, the map failed to tell us that a substantial section of the line we were planning to ride was closed for repairs that weekend and that we would need to take a bus to the first functional station on the line.

After spending far too long finding that bus, we boarded and drove through sections of London quite unlike what I’d seen up until now. This was very much where the other half lived… run down or vacant buildings and sketchy looking shops dotted the road. Guess London is like every city in that respect.

Then, we made a near fatal mistake….

We were supposed to get off the bus at Canary Wharf, but had miscounted and got off a station too early. Further complicating matters, the map we had didn’t extend into this neighborhood. So, we either had to wait for the next special replacement bus to show up, or figure out how to walk to the proper station. And it turned out surprisingly okay. You never know what you’re going to see or experience when you walk through non-tourist sections of a city, and in this particular case we found a traffic light tree.

Traffic Light Tree

Once we made it onto the light rail it was just a quick ride to our final destination.

Greenwich

For those wondering why I might be so driven to get out to the Greenwich Observatory, you should know that Greenwich is the home of UTC+0, which means that it is the one place where timezones don’t exist. As a software developer, I have lost countless hours struggling with the intricacies of timezones, which are really far more complex than you might think. But here, at the Observatory, all of that fades away… UTC is UTC, forever and always. Thus, I felt a need to pilgrimage to this honored location and be at peace with timezones, if only for a moment.

But first we toured the Old Naval College, now the University of Greenwich, and the adjacent Maritime Museum. I must say that the Old Navel College is quite the collection of spectacular buildings, and put King’s College to absolute shame in terms of collegiate campuses. It even put the University of Washington — perhaps one of the most picturesque campuses in the world — to shame. The Maritime Museum was also pretty cool, with lots of boats and navigational instruments for those who enjoy nautical stuff.

Old Navel College

On our way out I stopped at the gift shop in hopes to find an appropriate souvenir for the observatory (the museum and the observatory are part of the same complex). There were your usual shot glasses and key chains and even beer bottled for a recent anniversary of the observatory’s opening, but none of it really grabbed my attention. But, then, just as I was getting read to give up, I spotted a collection of pocket watches. Seriously, can one imagine a better souvenir than a pocket watch from the origin point of time?! I ended up with the least expensive model — because I knew I wasn’t going to actually wear the thing, I’m not quite that guy — but it still looks amazing and you can see all the gears spinning and whirling inside.

Me, my Pocket Watch, and the Greenwich Meridian

Ironically, as a result of my shopping delay, we were running short on time if we were going to make our dinner reservation, so we quickly walked up to the observatory and took a bunch of photos. Turns out the observatory also had a museum component, now closed due to the late hour. If I had known, I wouldn’t have bothered with the Maritime Museum, but such is the way of things and I was still very excited to finally be at the center of time.

Fancy Clock at the Observatory

Parson’s Green

We now began a rather twisty trip from the Observatory to our dinner location by way of our hotel. Since the light rail was still only semi-functional, we used the underground to make it most of the way home and beyond. But the underground is efficient and affordable, so we got back to our hotel sooner than we had expected and were able to change into our semi-nice clothing and still make it to the restaurant well ahead of our reservation. To eat up some time we toured around the neighborhood, which had been built around a central green space called, you guessed it, Parson’s Green.

Putting the 'Green' in Parsons Green

The neighborhood really drove home just how very different each section of London is, not just in terms of restaurants and activities, but the whole aesthetic of the location. Where the downtown core could have been any major city, Greenwich had been like it’s own distinct town with a big church and shopping center, while Parson’s Green was much more a sleepy bedroom community with small apartment buildings and single dwelling houses. Again, I imagine every city is like this once you get to know it.

A park with bylaws? My kinda place!

The White Horse

Sarah had selected the White Horse as a famous gastropub, who aimed to bring quality beer together with quality food. For the most part, they succeeded, but only after a bumpy ride. For those who read my review of White Horse on Yelp, feel free to skip this section because it is essentially verbatim.

The White Horse

Sarah did a lot of research before choosing the White Horse as our final dinner location in London. Seems it was one of the first “high end” gastropubs in the area and said to have amazing food and drink. And it’s true, it did have amazing food… but something seemed very wrong that fateful Sunday which makes me wonder if after their great success, the White Horse has begun to rest on their laurels a bit.

We had made reservations online, as is quite customary in the States, but seemed very much out of the ordinary for the waitstaff. Took us a good five minutes to find someone who could tell us how to claim our reservation and then find our own table which had my name written on it. But before we even got to our table, we met our waiter who — while seeming as if he was about to suffer from a nervous breakdown — informed us that most of the menu was no longer available.

Undaunted, we took our seats and set out to learn exactly what they did still have on menu. Turns out many restaurants in London specialize in a Sunday Roast, and the White Horse is no exception. This particular Sunday, at the fairly early dining hour of 7:30pm, they were 100% out of the roast making materials… as well as a few other dishes that shared common materials. Worse yet, because it was Sunday, a number of their specialty items were not on the menu at all, having been displaced by the Sunday Roast. In particular this meant no “Toad in the Hole”, which Sarah and I had decided to get ahead of time as it is a distinctive British dish, and at this restaurant made for two people.

Crawfish and Rabbit Pie (photo from The White Horse)

After much discussion, and being won over by the extensive beer selection, we decided to stick it out, and I’m glad we did. For appetizer we enjoyed the mushroom and chestnut soufflé, which was light and airy while still being incredibly flavorful. For mains, I ended up with the crayfish and rabbit pie, which came presented with a whole crayfish bursting out of the top of the pie. A+ on presentation and taste! Sarah got a Scottish salmon and spinach dish that she reported really hit the spot. Dessert, apple fritters for the lady and a treacle sponge for me, were not really worth eating. The sponge, in particular, was still partially frozen.

To make up for the uneven desserts, absentee menu choices, and somewhat manic service, the White Horse does sport an amazing bottled beer selection. Over the course of the evening we enjoyed a lemon grass beer, a Scotch ale, a traditional British ale, a Somerset cider, and a vintage barley wine. Each served in the appropriate glass for the given beer style or brew house.

I do wish I could go back and try the evening again without the Sunday menu disappointment, but even with the bumpy start to the evening, once we got into the groove it proved to be a lovely night out… and only a block walk back to the tube station.

Thus ended our second day in London. Tomorrow we would only have a half day before needing to jump on the train back to Gatwick, but I think you’ll be surprised just how much we managed to squeeze in.

Getting to Gatwick

Getting to London with most of our day still ahead of us meant waking up all sorts of early to begin our trek to Schiphol. We departed from our local train station instead of the customary central station, because it meant less walking and the schedules lined up better… but it also meant we couldn’t catch a direct train and so we made a lot of stops between home and the airport. The flight to London from Amsterdam is so short that it begins the descent before beverage service is complete, and before you knew it we were on the ground, 10am local time.

Our first order of business was acquiring a means to move around the city, which translated into round trip tickets on the Gatwick Express from the airport to Victoria Station, £30 over two Oyster Cards for use on mass transit, and £200 in cash for food and incidental expenses. A quick stop to grab our luggage and we were off on a bus to the airport’s train station.

I mention the bus only because this was the trip’s first encounter with driving on the wrong side of the road. I realize this is all very American of me, but it still confused me after three days of looking the wrong way on streets or expecting buses to arrive on the other side. Weirds me out just thinking about it.

Luna Simone Hotel

Once we arrived at Victoria Station, and a friendly copper who looked just like Simon Pegg pointed us in the right direction, we walked to our lovely hotel. The Luna Simone Hotel is located on what turned out to be the hotel street for the area. Block after block of four/five story buildings, no wider than a San Francisco row house, and easily 90% had been converted into hotels.

This particular hotel was actually two buildings fused together to make a double-wide hotel, run by two “blokes” who appeared to be brothers and were as friendly as one could want from hotel managers. We were given room five, a nice little room with a bed, a bathroom, and a teapot. But lurking behind the curtains we discovered a charming walkout balcony facing the street. It certainly wasn’t as fancy as the hotel in Amsterdam, but it made a good home.

First Walk in a Foreign Land

The night before we had made reservations for a “flight” on the London Eye, which meant we had to get from our hotel, down to Whitehall and across the Thames in 45 minutes, which turned out to be plenty of time to soak in my first sights of London. We spent most of the walk along the Thames, where we passed by my first proper British pub, the Tate British, the headquarters for the British Conservative Party, and Parliament. Our first day the weather was amazing — like, practically shorts weather — so it was a great day to just see everything. The downside is everyone else had the same thought, and we had to fight through any number of tourist groups speaking every language imaginable, but it was nothing my Washington DC interning experiencing hadn’t prepared me for. Because of the fixed flight time, we had to sort of rush through Parliament, but I made Sarah promise we would be back.

London Eye

Much to my amazement, Sarah was unaware of the London Eye’s existence prior to planning our trip. It was built to celebrate the new millennium, and as I was obsessed with the various millennial celebrations (having been screwed out of Seattle’s celebration, thank you very much Mayor Schell), I had always wanted to go on it. For those equally ignorant as Sarah, the London Eye is a freakishly huge Ferris wheel built on the Thames just across from the government buildings of Whitehall (Dear Google Maps, this is not the location of the London Eye). At the top visitors are treated to nearly unparalleled views of the city, as the Eye is very centrally located and dwarfs the surrounding buildings. For my Seattle readers, think of it as a 21st century take on the Space Needle, without the glorified restaurant at the top. The Eye is also visible throughout the city, so it didn’t take long for me to start referring to it as the Eye of London… a great Eye, lidless, wreathed in flame.

We paid extra for Fast Track tickets, which allowed us to skip a healthy chunk of the line — since time was more valuable than money during our short stay in the city — but I can’t say I’d recommend Fast Track unless you are really counting the minutes. It probably only saved us 15-20 in the end. But I can’t recommend the Eye itself enough. Beyond just the amazing views of the city, it really helps put the geography of the city into perspective, so I was always able to have some sense of where we were on the ground. I have a long standing rule that one should get to the top of a tall building as soon as you land in a new city… turns out a tall Ferris wheel works too.

The Buildings of Whitehall

Back across the Thames is the heart of the United Kingdom’s governmental apparatus. Of course, Parliament and Big Ben dominate the whole area, but any good government geek will note there’s much more to see. The Parliamentary offices are just across the street, as are the Her Majesty’s Treasury, the Foreign Office, the Ministry of Defense, and of course Downing Street. Let me take a moment to comment on Downing Street, if I may.

Of course, it’s a well established fact that the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom is not exactly on equal footing with the President of the United States. The positions are just not really comparable, even if the countries took a similar approach to their government officers (which they don’t). It was with this knowledge that I approached 10 Downing Street, the official residence of the Prime Minister. I wasn’t looking for anything quite as splendid as the White House, with its extensive gardens and majestic Truman balcony, but I was looking for something that reflected the significance of the place. What I found instead was a well manned traffic barrier. Down a ways, where civilians weren’t allowed, you could see a few doors of which I took a picture in hope that it might be no. 10. Sadly, after getting the photo on my laptop to take a closer look, I discovered I had taken a photo of no. 12, home of the Prime Minister’s Press Office. Which is all to say… what gives Britain?!

Next to Parliament is Westminster Abbey, which is different than Westminster Cathedral, but essentially looks like a cathedral. We were there too late to go in, which was a bummer because all of the churches were closed to tourists on Sunday for worship. Oh, and also next to Parliament is the British equivalent of the White House Peace Vigil. Much like the Downing Street, the British doppleganger has much to learn from America in terms of grandeur.

The Strand

Whitehall eventually gives way to Trafalgar Square, where a giant pillar and statue of Admiral Nelson stands to commemorate the British navel defeat of the combined French and Spanish fleets. There is also a sizable public square here, where civil services unions were protesting potential cuts to national services and the, in their own words, the welfare state. It was quite a thing to see political actors explicitly defending the term “welfare state,” which in the US is like saying “I am pro-communism.” Speaking of which, the communists were there, and the speakers all referred to each other as comrade. It was quite a thing.

Next we walked north along The Strand, a popular shopping street with many fancy stores, hotels, and theatres. One theatre was even showing Legally Blond the musical… can you imagine?! Eventually we arrived at Sarah’s old stomping grounds where we stopped in for our first encounter with British food at the Lyceum. I ordered traditional fish and chips and Sarah got steak and ale pie. I was disappointed to discover that pub fish and chips is just one big piece of fried fish (nearly ever pub we encountered served it the same way), which isn’t to say it wasn’t good… but I enjoy the little chunks of fish experience typically found with American fish and chips. I also had my first pints of British beer which turned out to be essentially water. It’s no wonder they can session beer all night… the ABV was easily half of what I’m used to drinking in San Francisco. But it was good tasting beer, and as it was only late afternoon, I was okay not being tipsy after two pints.

Sarah’s Alma Mater

Just down the street from our lunch spot is King’s College, where Sarah went as an undergraduate student in Classics. Unfortunately, you can’t really get into the campus without student ID, so you’ll have to just appreciate the crest on the gate outside. Later in the trip Sarah confided in me that the British Museum stored a number of artifacts in the basement under her department during WWII, so that’s something.

Parks and a Palace

After King’s we walked to the Thames and walked along the Victoria Embankment which was the first of several parks we walked through on our way to Buckingham Palace. St. James Park was the biggest of these parks which included some amazing flower beds and a large pond filled with various fowl. Strangely, there was one sign in the park that explicitly requested visitors not feed the pelicans, but I guess it’s fine to feed one of the other dozen or so species who make the park home. I had visions of well fed ducks and swans laughing at the malnourished pelicans. If I had had bread on hand, I would have fed the Pelicans.

At the far end of St. James Park we found Buckingham Palace, one of the Queen’s official residences for use when she is in the city. Now here was a structure that could go toe-to-toe with the White House. In fact, I imagine it is several orders of magnitude larger. Having said that, I didn’t find the outside all that inspiring. I seem to have the same problem with all of these big British residences… the outside has almost no architectural variation. It makes one think the inside is just room after identical room, like some sort of 18th century hotel. Sarah assures me that the insides are distinctive, but to the commoner looking from the outside, it just looked big. There was an amazing fountain out front that claimed to be a gift from New Zealand. One wonders if colonies even have the capacity to give gifts to their imperial masters. Isn’t that just a tax?

Downtown Shopping

As the sun began to set we made our way down Piccadilly towards Piccadilly Circus. On the way we passed by Fortnum & Masons, which Sarah described as a kind of department store, but certainly wasn’t like any department store I had encountered before. The first floor was entirely dedicated to chocolate and teas. The basement floor had an extensive wine and liquor section on one side and a fruit, cheese, and dried goods market on the other. One could conceivable feed an entire family just by shopping here, but it would be awfully pricey. It wasn’t until one went to the second floor that it started to feel departmenty with the appearance of clothing and perfume. But near the top in the Men’s section there was a whole area dedicated to handcrafted game sets and drinking paraphernalia.

We also walked by the Ritz which claimed to have a high end jeweler on premise. But unlike jewelers in the states that would put its wares in the windows to entice passer-byers, the Ritz seemed to think that lame photographs are enough. Suffice to say, I didn’t stop in to buy any jewels.

Finally we arrived at the much mentioned, but never described “Piccadilly Circus.” I honestly had no idea what I was expecting to see… I had earlier ruled out that “circus” had anything to do with animals and clowns, but I won’t deny I was disappointed to learn that circus is just another word for circle. At least it was quite a happening circle… comparable to New York’s Times Square, complete with big flashy billboards adorning the adjacent buildings.

We then continued on to Trafalgar Square for our third time. But, unlike the second time, I totally failed to realize it was the same location and managed to take identical photos of the same building before I realized what I had done. I blame protesters who had managed to entirely clear out by the time we returned. From there we walked to Covent Garden, a collection of shops and restaurants around and inside of a piazza designed in 1632. If you’ve ever been to the Ferry Terminal Building in San Francisco, it has a vaguely similar feeling. However, unlike the Ferry Terminal Building, Covent Garden doesn’t close at 5pm. In fact, in that regard London is like New York… nothing ever seems to close.

Thalis: Delicious Indian Food

We had known that food was going to be an important part of our London trip, so Sarah did a bunch of research to make sure we ate at good, yet not super expensive locations. For our first dinner out we went to the Masala Zone, an Indian restaurant known in London for serving “real” Indian food. They specialized in Thalis, which is a large platter with numerous small portions of food surrounding a curry dish of your choosing. The sides change all the time, so I can’t speak to every night, but at least this particular night there wasn’t a single thing that wasn’t beyond delicious. I ordered spicy chicken curry and Sarah got a lamb curry, both of which were scrumptious. To top it all off, the meal was totally affordable. I would heartily recommend this approach to anyone looking to get a wide taste of what Indian cuisine has to offer.

Wandering through SoHo

After dinner we made our way toward the Oxford Circus tube station by way of SoHo. SoHo is an interesting place… and it’s really a combination of lots of different places. It’s clearly a young neighborhood, with lots of bars and night clubs. It’s also home to many of musicals the city has on offer. And if that weren’t enough, there is tons of mid and high end shopping options. But at this hour, Sarah and I weren’t really looking for anything than to get off our aching feet, so we didn’t stop anywhere.

That is until we discovered Princi Bakery. There, right next to the window, were rows and rows of single serving desserts. Upon entering we discovered an Italian style boutique bakery with desserts, pizzas, sandwiches, and numerous other goodies. It was also packed with people. Thankfully we were able to snag a standing table to enjoy our delicious desserts — although, I experimented and tried something out of my usual repertoire and it wasn’t quite as good as I had hoped.

London Underground

Stuffed full of dessert and Indian food we eventually found Oxford Circus and the means to our home. The London Underground is just one part of a vast transportation system that keeps the city running. I think most interesting is how each of the stations has a very distinctive feel. Oxford Circle is a huge station with several levels. The station has a feel that reminded me of a New York City subway station, while other stations were more like the Chicago L. But the trains ran quite frequently and it took hardly any time at all to get to the station near our hotel. The one disappointment is that no one reminded me to “mind the gap”… but don’t worry, I was sure to remind everyone as I departed.

You might be wondering how the overturning of a policy I support is a good thing, and the simple answer is process matters. The process matters because not all law is of equal value, and this particular regulation wasn’t the sort of foundation upon which you would want to build a free internet. To understand what I’m driving at, you need a basic understanding of the interplay between Congress, regulatory agencies like the FCC, and the Courts. Here’s a quick set of principles

• Congress doesn’t act unless it needs to — This is generally true in all areas, but especially true in technology policy. Congress, for all its many faults, recognizes it’s the least good way of getting things done. It lacks expertise and is highly susceptible to outside interests whose goals are not always aligned with the public. As such, there are numerous mechanisms in Congress to ensure only a small fraction of bills get approved, even if they have majority support.
• Regulatory agencies are expected to pick up the slack — Congress can sit on its hands because it has already setup numerous agencies to make the sorts of expert technical decisions Congress is not so good at. For example, the recent health care reform bill, while very long, will pale in comparison to the length of the regulations that will eventually be written to implement the same. Those regulations will largely come from the Department of Health and Human Services. When flaws are found in the original bill, it won’t be Congress that tries to fix it, it will be DHHS using its regulatory power.
• Courts act as a check against undemocratic law making — Yes, for all you may have heard from conservatives about courts being undemocratic, it is their responsibility to ensure regulators do not overstep the authority granted to them by Congress. This is a challenging but critical task. Regulators are under heavy pressure from advocates, legislators, and the President to push the bounds of their authority to avoid spending political capital on enacting a statute. It is the Courts job to ensure that this doesn’t get out of hand.

The interplay between these three forces is subtle and complex, and I don’t claim to be anywhere close to an expert. But what I can speculate is that when network neutrality failed in the last Congress it was in part because would-be supporters didn’t feel the issue was sufficiently ripe. Why cast a potentially difficult vote when you can have the FCC do your dirty work for you? Now that the courts have ruled that the FCC lacks sufficient authority, the issue goes back to Congress where we can finally get a good sense of just what kind of political support exists.

In the meantime, the court’s decision tells us something else important: the FCC lacks authority to regulate the internet in whatever manner it sees fit. As anyone in the TV business will tell you, that’s probably a good thing from a content perspective, least we end up with such delightful concepts as “community standards” being forced upon us all. With clear limits on the FCC’s ancillary regulatory powers over the internet, Congress can now draft specific authority for the purposes of network neutrality while avoiding the pitfalls of creating a overbearing internet regulator, but also ensure a durable and lasting legislative framework for a free and open internet.

The Flight

International travel is hard on the body… at least it’s hard on my body. Sitting stationary for nine hours while flight attendants shovel food and drink into you is a recipe for discomfort. Worse yet, I foolishly signed up for a window seat, as is my general preference on domestic flights, but when locked down for that long with two people between you at the facilities, the window seat is more of a prison sentence than a pleasant visual distraction. Oh, and quick word to KLM/Delta — the fine folks who operated my flight from SFO to Amsterdam — please, please revise your webpage on baggage allowances. It shouldn’t be necessary to read a bulleted list under a footnote to learn that my free baggage allowance is only one bag.

Amsterdam

After a joyful reunion with Sarah at the Schiphol Airport, we made our way to Amsterdam and Bilderberg Hotel Jan Luyken. Our accommodations in the city were beyond amazing. A huge room (for Holland standards) with a super comfy bed and uber fancy shower. The difference between this place and the hotel we stayed at when I was last in Amsterdam was night and day. After uploading my stuff and getting cleaned up post-flight, we went for a walk around the city, visiting a favorite café of Sarah’s and checking out some of the neighborhoods. Our plan to enjoy an Indonesian dinner were foiled by our lack of reservations — when we had eaten there last time reservations weren’t required — so we ended up at a sort of touristy restaurant that wouldn’t have done well in a Yelp! review.

The next day we went for a walk through the Amsterdam Flower Market, a first for both Sarah and myself, where I got yelled at by a Dutchman for trying to move a bucket of flowers in order to see the 30% of his stock that it was blocking. I guess the exactness of product position is more important than customers actually being able to purchase goods. Then we made our way back to the train station for the next leg of the journey.

Hilversum & Utrecht

Sarah had decided we were going to make Hilversum our base of operations for the trip, taking advantage of an apartment belonging to Sarah’s step-mother. To make the process of getting our stuff there as easy as possible, we met Sarah’s father at the train station, dropped most of my belongings in the apartment, and took the empty suitcases with us to move Sarah’s stuff later. But before we got to the apartment we stopped for my first bitterballen of the trip at a nice pub in the city center. Unbeknown to us, this particular pub is staffed by kifds with Down syndrome during the day, which made for a simultaneously sad and uplifting experience. We hope to get back there on return visits to the city center.

Then we drove to Utrecht and spent the night at Sarah’s father’s house after a yummy dinner of Persian food and a showing of Kung Fu Panda (where Debian was able to save the day with playing a Region 1 DVD via HDMI routed to the TV there… Vista wasn’t able to get the sound to work).

Enschede

The next day Sarah’s father drove us across the Netherlands to Enschede, the location of Sarah’s field site and former apartment. After packing up most of her belongings and loading it back into the car for her father to take back to Hilversum, we headed out to see the Enschede city center. Most Dutch towns have a fairly central location where cars are prohibited/limited and tons of restaurants have set up shop, and Enschede is no exception. We went to a cozy pub where we enjoyed my second helping of bitterballen and just a ton of beer, including my first encounter with a Belgian “Quadruple” — which subsequent inquiry suggests is a modern fiction and would not have been found in any original Belgian brewery.

The next day, after sleeping two people on Sarah’s single bed, we headed out to the her field site for Easter services, which involved a lot of standing and not understanding what was being said. But everyone was very nice to me and we were invited to an Easter lunch at a community member’s house where we enjoyed their first meal after the 50 day fast of no meat or dairy products. All very scrumptious. After a much needed recharge — funny how standing and not understanding is really exhausting — we had dinner at what Sarah described as the “best sushi in Holland” and what I would describe as “perfectly acceptable but way overpriced.” As an example, in order to not make their prices seem totally exorbitant, nigiri is sold in singles instead of the standard doubles. Afterward we headed back to the same pup where I had my third helping of bitterballen.

Return to Hilversum

Next morning, after another two person on a single bed experience, we took the train from Enschede into Hilversum and starting making our new home. Two days in, a run to the grocery and appliance store, and some learning how to mitigate the smoke from next door neighbors, we are finally starting to feel at home. I was able to setup a strong wireless access point, so work for Trilogy has begun once again, although the time difference is a bit of a trick.

On Wednesday we made our way out to the twice weekly market, which is sort of like an American farmers market, except it’s not really about organically grown or even locally grown. It’s just a big open air market that sells everything, and I mean everything. Perhaps most exciting was the fresh Stroopwafel we gobbled up while hunting for flowers. In the process we learned how to get to and from the city center, so we should be all set for more excursions in the future.

On Saturday we pack up and head to London for my first journey to a European country other than Holland.

The pool is organized by a work friend who I think offered me an invitation to join out of pity… or perhaps spite. We are using a Yahoo! tool that, at least to the inexperienced bracket maker, is pretty cool. Filling out the bracket proved to be a rather challenging activity when you don’t know anything about anything. I decided early in the process that I would put the Huskies as the National Champions (why are the Huskie’s using a non-edu domain name?). I figure, what’s the point of having an alma mater with a good sports program if you can’t bet the farm on them without any legitimation justification. This proved easier in theory than practice, because you can’t just say “Huskies win everything” and be done with it… you need to actually pick the team the Huskies will beat at each match in the competition… and to do that, you need to pick all the teams those teams will beat in order to match up with the Huskies… and the next thing you know I’ve picked dozens and dozens of match-ups based on essentially no evidence or skill.

Now, here we are at the start of Round 3, the so called Sweet Sixteen. I am in a pool of 23 brackets and currently rank 13th… but only 3 correct picks separate me from 1st place. Now here’s the kicker… for all my lack of skill and general sports-related incompetence, I am tied for first place on points possible. Meaning my bracket is more intact than anyone else I’m competing against. All of my choices for the Final Four remain in play and the Huskies are still going strong.

How did I do it, you might ask yourself? Well, the secret was to not understand how the bracket seeding worked, because I had no idea that Kansas was considered a strong favorite for the National Championship, so I had them losing in the second round… and wouldn’t you know?! Of course, I thought they would lose to UNLV instead of Northern Iowa. But, seriously, that sort of thing isn’t important. What’s important is that by total random chance I avoided a pitfall that snared nearly half the pool.

I’m still not sure how to articulate the allure of brackets. I still have no interest in watching the games… the few times basketball has been on in a bar or wherever, it never keeps my attention. At it’s core this is gambling to me, because the choices might as well have all been coin flips. But the real draw here is the dependent nature of each match-up. Having done “well” in the early rounds, I am now positioned to do better in later round. Sort of the rich gets richer scenario. It’s also interesting because there were simply so many choices, and the amount of data one would need to know to make “informed” decisions is so overwhelming, that I seriously doubt experts do much better than your average laymen.

It’ll be a couple of weeks until we know the final winner and I’ll be sure to post a follow up… until then, I shall keep refreshing my bracket results to see which names turn red or green, while totally ignoring the games themselves.

Star Craft 2: Beta

Yes, I was given a beta key for Star Craft 2. Back in high school I remember how envious I felt of the kids who were selected to be in the first Star Craft beta. It seemed like such a wondrous thing getting to play the game months before everyone else… to give feedback directly to the minds at Blizzard. I have been monitoring Star Crafts 2’s development since I first moved to Santa Cruz more than three years ago, checking the website and discussing it with friends. As much as I can be a “groupie” for a game, I was of Star Craft 2. And here was to be my great opportunity! I remember walking home the night I got the notification email with such a spring in my step. Here we, four weeks later, and how many times have I played?! Four times. Yes, four.

Sure, I’ve played against the pathetic AI a bunch of times, but in terms of actually one-on-one play I have clocked only four games. Oh, and on a related point, I lost each of those matches. So I ask myself, why? Why, when I am among the select few on the whole planet afforded an opportunity to play this game, am I not taking advantage of it?

I think there are several answers to the question that are all working in concert.

1. I am not good at Star Craft. In truth, I never have been. Back in the day, when I played in high school and college, I wasn’t good. Turns out 10 years with zero practice doesn’t make you any better. Which isn’t to say I’m bad. I can follow build orders, survey, and defend myself quite well. But when it comes to actually going on the offense… closing the deal, as they say… I just never had it.
2. I enjoy Star Craft as a social experience. Even when I used to play the original, I was exclusively playing against friends. Whether at LAN parties or in the dorms, Star Craft was about playing around with friends. With the beta, it’s all anonymous match-ups. Recently all the beta participants were issued keys to give to friends, which I’m hopeful means I’ll have someone to play with in a more social capacity… but it’s still not quite the same as Big Game Hunters with a bunch of players you know.
3. No access to the single player campaign. The point of the beta is to test the balance and battle.net matching services. As such, things like the single player campaign or a challenging AI are off-limits. Being cut off from the single player elements really brought home to me how much I enjoyed the solo play. I think what I really enjoy is overcoming a more developed computer player in different scenarios. With battle.net games, it’s the same every time… equal footing, same maps. It’s just a race to accomplish the same goal… and it turns out I don’t know how to accomplish that goal.

Now, this isn’t to say it’s a bad game. It is, in fact, an amazing game. The controls are responsive, the graphics are detailed, and the number of unit/strategy combinations are staggering. When the final games comes out, I have no doubt I will buy a copy in minutes after its release… and once I have a copy, I will play the solo campaign from beginning to end. Until that time, I shall continue to be really bad at the battle.net games and perhaps, someday, play enough of them to where I am actually placed in a league and start building a truly impressive number of defeats.

What is this controversial amendment, you ask? Well, to answer that we start by understanding what the bill say before the amendment. First a quick caveat, I haven’t read the bill so this is all second hand reporting… consult a health care expert for full details. But do keep reading, as I do have a genuine thought near the end here that will only make sense once the context is provided. Anyway, the bill itself currently contains a compromise between some (read: not all) anti-choice Democrats and the pro-choice wing which requires that in any given insurance market there always be at least one insurance option that provides abortion services and one insurance option that does not. Once those requirements are met any number of additional plans, with or without abortion services, can be offered. My understanding is that, at present, most insurance plans in the United States cover some level of abortion services, so the existing compromise is a net “gain” of sorts for anti-choice supporters, as this increases their own ideologically-pure insurance options.

Of course, the compromise itself is somewhat silly, because most Americans don’t select their own insurance but rather sign up for their employer’s plan. Even at my tiny company where worker opinion is solicited for important business decisions on a regular basis, the health insurance decisions are quite opaque. But even though it’s a “win”, it apparently wasn’t enough of a win. The anti-choice partisans are worried that poor Americans who receive insurance through the new Insurance Exchange with federal subsidies will have access to abortion services paid for by federal dollars. This, for reasons I’ve never fully understood, is a big deal. Money is fungible, and if you really have a problem with the idea that your money is paying for abortions, just pretend like all of the taxes collected during your entire lifetime goes to pay for .001% of a cruise missile used to blow up something in Iraq… but I digress. Years ago an amendment was passed called the Helms Amendment that prevents the spending of any federal dollars for abortion services unless in the case of incest, rape, or saving the life of the mother (note, no general health exception is provided… she has to be dying to get access to federal funds). Thus medicad — the primary source of health funds available to those still able to reproduce, since medicare is primarily for the elderly — have always been highly restricted.

The original compromise maintains this restriction. Someone buying insurance on the Exchange, even the one with abortion services, would only be able to access those services under the Helms Amendment restrictions. In order to cover any other abortion services you would need to purchase additional coverage. In this, it was believed, the status quo was more or less maintained.

Not so, says the anti-choicers! Best as I can figure, their argument boils down to this: if the government is providing subsidies to help me purchase insurance, that leaves me with more money in my pocket which I can then use to purchase the “full service” abortion package, and thus federal taxes are indirectly being used to pay for non-Helms-Amendment type abortions. The proposed solution is to ban the sale of abortion service insurance on the Exchange entirely. That’s right… NO ONE on the individual market or public option would be able to buy insurance that covers abortions. To draw an analogy… by providing food stamps to the poor, we enable them to spend what money they do have on alcohol, which is probably not a good use of their funds. The obvious solution then is to mandate that the poor can only purchase food at one approved location, regardless of whether they are using stamps or hard cash, and that said location will not carry any products we deem inappropriate… and that since we are dismantling all the rest of the stores while we are at it, everyone is going to have to buy from that same no-alcohol location even if they aren’t on food stamps. Only then can our conscience rest peacefully.

Okay, context is provided… here’s my original thought. I don’t think this amendment can stand legal scrutiny, and I think the Democrats know it. Access to abortion is a legal right in this country, and insurance is the way we pay for it. The government cannot prohibit insurance from paying for a service that is a right as it’s functionally no different than an outright ban. I suggest that prohibiting a whole section of the population from even having access to insurance options is more or less the same. But this is a gamble. The court isn’t what it used to be when it comes to choice. Though the case wouldn’t ultimately be about choice as much as a questions of the power of Congress to regulate beyond the scope of federal dollars (remember, there is only a tenuous connection between federal dollars here). Given this, I’d still place bets that the amendment can’t withstand scrutiny. Which I think is why the vote is going forward. As long as they can get together 216 votes today, the Democrats can worry about the five votes on the Supreme Court later.

The recipe called for four large handfuls of mushrooms and a number of other vegetables I didn’t have in the house, so Brett and I headed over to Berkeley’s Monterey Market for heaps of fresh produce. I was able to choose from a number of fine mushroom specimens, eventually selecting oyster mushrooms, baby shiitakes, chanterelles, and the elusive matsutake (eat your heart out Santa Cruz anthro students!). The day of the event I went down to our local grocery store and picked up “no-chicken” chicken stock and some desserts. Then I embarked on my cooking adventure.

Pre Cooking Kitchen

First I had to clean the kitchen. My apartment has no dishwasher, and I am a lazy, lazy man… so it took a while to work through the dish backlog. But eventually I got to the sparkling kitchen you see above.

Cooking Begins

The recipe is divided into two steps, the initial preparation of the risotto followed by the preparation of the mushrooms and integration of the same with the risotto base. Above is the first stage of the risotto, which I realized was designed to feed eight people!

Not Enough Vermouth

Sarah had told me there was vermouth in the cupboard meant to be used with a risotto but had never been actually used, so I assumed there was a more or less unopened bottle up there. Not so! I was two ounces shy of what was needed, but figured I would be fine with what I had.

So Much Rice

Risotto is made by pouring in small amounts of warm stock which the rice absorbs while it cooks. This is supposed to be a time consuming process full of concern for whether or not the risotto is going to actually absorb all the liquid. In this case, that was never a concern. The rice continued to absorb the stock seconds after I put it into the pot. This probably should have been cause for early concern.

Risotto Step 1 Complete

After step one was complete the recipe instructs you to put the rice in a large pan to let cool while preparing the next step. Here you see all the rice. This turned out to be a pretty dangerous setup, as there isn’t enough counter-top space to put this pan down, so it ended up on one of my kitchen stools where my dinner guests kept running into it while moving about the kitchen! Thankfully it never actually fell off the stool.

Mushroom Specimens

I had originally purchased four mushrooms types, but I think I bought too much of each, so I decided to drop the shiitakes from the mix. That still left three varieties, oyster on the top, chanterelles on the right, and matsutakes on the left. I wasn’t 100% sure of the best way to prepare the matsutakes, so I ended up cutting the stems into smaller bits — which was good as the stems were chewy — and the caps into roughly 8ths. The oyster mushrooms were more or less diced, and the chantrelles were cut into strips. This allowed one to identify which mushroom was which based just just on the size.

Five Cups of Mushrooms

After the mushroom prep, I ended with five cups of mushrooms. That’s a lot of mushrooms!

Mushroom Medley

Into the frying pan with a ton of butter. This started to smell fantastic about five minutes into cooking.

Risotto when Finished

Now, I don’t have any photos of the steps between mushroom prep and the final product, but this is where the wheels fall off the wagon. It turns out my risotto isn’t anywhere done enough. I keep adding stock, it keeps soaking it right up, rice continues to be crunchy. We eventually add WAY more stock than the recipe calls for, throw on the lid and let it cook for an additional 15 minutes untouched. This finally got the risotto rice to soften up in the core, but it also ensured the rice converted to roughly 70% paste. The final product was not “oozy” so much as it was “gooey”.

Fellow Diners

Here we are about to sit down for the meal. I picked up a bottle of white wine from South Africa called “Goats will Roam” that was pretty decent, but not great. I had hoped it would be less fruity, but turned out to be amazingly fruity. The risotto itself was perfectly acceptable. It was quite dense and cheesy, and you couldn’t always taste the different mushrooms, but I still enjoyed it. I can’t say the matsutakes where anything amazing. Perhaps they are meant to be savored in a more delicate dish? We rounded off the meal with a loaf of bread.

The Forgotten Lemon Juice

Later that evening I realized I had failed to add the lemon juice I had squeezed earlier. Everyone agreed that the risotto would have been much better with the juice, as it would have helped to cut the richness and perhaps reduced the gooey factor. Rookie mistake.

Risotto Leftovers

With only three people eating a dish designed to feed eight, I ended up with lots of leftovers. Thankfully it cooks up really nice in a fry pan and I’ve already had one good meal with almost no prep required thanks to my overcooking.

Post Cooking Kitchen

Of course, the kitchen ended up a disaster once again, but such is the cycle of life.