Greetings, etc.

Life…is one harsh ride sometimes.  I’m not talking about the whole, “oh I’m busy” thing.  It’s true on some levels, but hardly adequate in describing the past few weeks.

When JJ and I got engaged, my godmother and tia immediately scheduled an engagement party for us at her house.  The whole family came, too, which meant grub for a crowd of approximately 100 people.  All my favorite Mexican foods were out - fresh guac, fluffy baked rice, beans (pinto, of course), tortillas, and big vats of chicken en mole.  The mole was done up how I like it - heavy on the chocolate and not too spicey.  It was one of the last events my grandmother was brought to.  JJ’s dad and his partner got to meet the rest of the family for the first time.  And everyone had a great time.  A really great time.  My tia’s been throwing down our family functions for years with a sort of effortlessness that we all took for granted.  But that’s how she rolled.

About three weeks ago, mi tia was diagnosed with a grade four gliobastoma multiforme tumor in her brain.  They went in, pulled it out, and sent her home with the expectation that treatment would begin in the coming weeks.  She was coherent and clear thanks to the lack of pressure on her brain.  Numbers gave her a bit of trouble though and she couldn’t dial the phone as a result.  I spent one Friday with her while her husband went to work and we chatted and gabbed (she couldn’t dial 911, so someone had to be around in case something went wrong).  I dialed the phone for her when she asked.  We talked about the treatment options her sons were investigating.  It was pleasant but also troubling.  One of the things that told them there was a problem in the first place was that she couldn’t read or speak clearly one morning.  As the afternoon went on, it was clear that some of that damage wasn’t really resolving itself.  In fact after her nap, it seemed a little worse.  I went home, happy to have been able to help, but worried.  Who wouldn’t be?

The worry wasn’t unfounded.  She was readmitted to the hospital the following week after she relapsed into the pre-surgery speech problems.  The tumor was back, and scarily bigger than the one they removed.  They called it ‘aggressive’.  I thought that was an understatement.  It was an angry mob of cells, carrying all manner of deadly weaponry.

Treatment?  Sure, you could try to treat it with chemo and radiation, but this was the kind of tumor that poured chemo on its cereal every morning.  Reality set in this past weekend and my cousins and uncle made a decision that I think no one should ever have to make about their wife or mother.  I wept for them more than my aunt that day.

When we talk about ‘quality of life’ in terms of the healthy, it’s mostly the difference between living in a good neighborhood with decent schools and some open space with a weekend market and, well, not.  It’s being able to make more choices.  It’s breathing cleaner air and using your time both productively and to rest and play.

With the sick, it’s trying to make sure the cure isn’t worse than the disease.  With the terminal, it’s weighing the difference between the amount of time you think you could have left and how much you’ll be able to do with that time while facing down any number of soul crushing limitations - pain, paralysis, deformity, neural breakdowns, etc.

My tia ate yesterday.  She hadn’t since last Thursday.  Eating is now a benchmark.

They’re bringing her home this week and setting up hospice care.  The chemo they are giving her now isn’t to get her to remission, it’s to keep her aware and cognitive for as long as possible while people come to the house to pay respects and talk to her while they still can.  Her prognosis is being measured in days and weeks, with months being used as a sort of long shot hope.

The thing that stuns me is that she’s still making it all look easy.  She’s ticked that she can’t talk.  Frustrated at her body’s betrayal.  But she’s solid, hopeful, and as in control of everything as she can be.  She knows, perhaps now more than ever, how truly loved she is.  The only real difference is that she’s leeting other people take over the things that were once hers.

In my case, it means I’m taking over some of the tasks she fulfilled in taking care of my grandmother (her mother) who lives in a nursing home nearby.  She and I are among just a few family members who still live close enough to handle doing a few mundane but necessary tasks, plus a few fun ones.  I play memory games with her using pictures of our family members.  Mama has always been a UCLA fan so when I come in, I turn over the USC pillow that my aunt put on her chair.  And sometimes if I come in time for her dinner, I’ll feed her the Ensure-laced goop and pretend it’s a fragrant, sugary flan.  Mama actually smiled at that once.  Next time I may try to turn it into ice cream.

So the focus of my life has narrowed and expanded at the same time.  I haven’t been to the market in two weeks and miss it exceedingly.  I’m having a hard time fighting the urge to order out because I don’t have the energy or desire to cook (I did last night and it was rather restorative).  But I’m also very happy that I’m in a position to be of use to my whole family in concrete ways.  Yes, we want everything fixed and happy again.  But things go wrong.  That’s life.  And when they do, you hope you have the fortitude to go on, and when you don’t, you hope you have the help to lift you up.

We’re a big loving family with a really diverse make up.  We have lives lived all over the world.  But when the tremors hit, we’re here.  The next few weeks will be occupied with family.  Some of us will do our best to celebrate life, but sorrow and a deep sense of loss will dominate.

Eventually, things will get back to ‘normal’ and posts will be more regular, but that’s a ways off yet.  Inspector Vino has a few lovely post ideas percolating (also the lucky bastard just told me he has reservations for The French Laundry coming up…insert seething envy here), so it won’t be totally dead.

When I come back to this, it will be with newness in mind - there are some lovely changes in the works and not a few special highlights of local note being planned and plotted.

The most common question people have asked us is, “What can I do to help?”  My cousin’s response so far has been the most honest and telling.

“Call someone who means the world to you and tell them that you love them. That is the best way to make today and everyday count.”

See you later.

I know there are a few of you out there.

WAY back in the day, when this blog was on Livejournal (seems so long ago now…time flies) an up and coming caterer named Rachel Hailey approached me and asked for permission to use some of my photos for her new business website.  Well, she’s in business now, doing all manner of impressive things, and my only gripe is that I can’t hire her myself.  So you hire her.  She’ll make you tasty seasonal foods.  The whole ‘personal chef’ thing?  I love to cook, but there are times…oh man.

Little side note: other places my images have been used?  A K-12 teacher’s guide on educating about agriculture in California, a farmer’s marketing materials, and a greeting card.  This is a fun life.  Funny how it took a camera to help me see it.

Congratulations, Rachel!  Salud!

Day #8 at the Festival was to begin my tour of the Mediterranean…and some of Florida’s signature unpredictable weather.

Having just come from the Far East, my figurative arrival at the sparkling blue-green waters of the Mediterranean Sea was by way of the shores of Turkey.

Their booth featured three genuine imports, two whites and a red by Kavaklidere.

Not having any previous familiarity with Turkish wine, I let the food guide my choice.  In this case I opted for the Manti, a Spiced Beef Ravioli with Yogurt and Paprika Butter.

It was a zesty morsel of ground beef in a noodle blanket.  The yogurt sauce was buttery, creamy and tangy.  To go with it, Disney’s Sommeliers had recommended the Selection Beyaz White.

The Beyaz is a blend of Narince and Sémillon.  It’s dry, citrusy character made a perfect partner to the lively tang of the yogurt sauce, not unlike a Sauvignon Blanc would.  That makes sense.  Sémillon is the traditional blending partner of Sauvignon Blanc in white Bordeaux.  This was one of my favorite pairings.  Surprising, unusual, and right.

Working my way west, I encountered Greece.  In addition to their food and wine booth, they had another dedicated just to the bottled produce of their ancient vines.

The Greeks shared their wine culture with the Romans and the conquering Romans, in turn, instilled vines and their own drinking ways into the whole of Europe.  From Europe to the New World.  None of that, I would discover, meant that modern Greek wine would be recognizable to a native Californian.  A couple of thousand years of clonal cultivation will do that.

The Boutari Naoussa was a full-bodied red made with 100% xinomavro.  Don’t feel bad.  I never heard of it, either.  The wine was described as having “good acidity.”  I found it tart to the near point of face-making.

It came paired with a savory spinach and cheese Spanakopitta.  The pastry was nice.  And while I’ll admit that it does sound very Greek for a wine to have the “very intense aroma of olive, cedar, tomato juice, spices and mint,” I personally consider most of those things to be off-notes in vino.  Not even a hint of berry?  Really?

I had room for one more taste before dinner.  Carrying my Mediterranean tour ever westward, I went from Dionysus to Bacchus and landed on the coast of Italy.

Home to another permanent pavillion in the World Showcase at Epcot, Italy® comes with its own piazza.  You get a tower, marble columns, and stone arches!

And it wouldn’t be Rome® without a fountain, right?  Good ol’ Neptune helps keep up appearances.

For the Festival, Italy’s booth served up the classics.

There was Insalata Caprese, Lasagne, and Cannoli.  These came paired respectively with Pinot Grigio, Chianti, and Moscato di Asti.

What I wanted was the Pizza.  I survived the lion’s share of my school life on little else than beer and pizza.  Many a pie has gone the way of this here gut, but standing there pondering that menu with rumpled dollars in hand, it suddenly occurred to me that I’ve never once had a slice with wine.

In this case, it was more of a square.  Make that one brick of spongy, deep-dish Fennel Sausage, Bell Pepper, San Marzano Tomatoes and Mozzarella to go, please.  To drink, there was Cecchi Chianti Classico.  Lively acidity followed by bright red fruits and a bit of earthiness.  That and a spicy tomato base, a timeless combination.  The older me says, “Who needs beer?”

You haven’t finished the Mediterranean until you’ve put Gibraltar in your rear view mirror, but that would have to wait another day.  I needed what was left of my appetite for the upcoming Dinner #8…

-inspector vino

Sometimes I have morning meetings scheduled out on the westside of LA which make a morning trip to my eastside office a bit of a waste. So instead of yoyoing back and forth, I do a midweek morning pitstop at Euro Pane, which is where I am right now.

Pictures when I get situated back at my desk. Right now I’m enjoying an oven fresh brioche, a cap, and am staring longingly at a box full of Sumi Chang’s chocolate cupcakes. They’re for my assistant in honor of “Administrative Assistant’s Day”.

*I* think it makes me the best boss ever. Sumi agrees.

I’ll be here until 8:30 or so. If you’re nearby, stop by and say hi.

This was one of Euro Pane’s lemon tarts, brought home for a lemon-loving JJ. Very very nom.

I really love having an excuse to read haiku.  Even better, I love having an excuse to create it, or in this case, facilitating its creation.

This is the last day you can enter the contest, so get out your haiku wands and bust out some mad 5-7-5.  Unhappy with your entry?  Think you can do better?  Enter again!  I’ll select your strongest entry for the overall panel review.

I’m officially closing up the comments/entry thread at 9PM Pacific time.  I’d say midnight, but I’m no night owl, and it’s a school night.  I’m thinking of celebrating the end of the first contest with a nice, hot bowl of Shin Sen Gumi love.  It’s cold and cloudy here today, which is perfect Hakata ramen weather.  But I digress…

And now something I don’t usually do because I’m unreliable when it comes to promised postings (need I mention the Gold Line tour? my lasagna recipe? ad infinitum…)- a preview of what you will likely see from me this weekend.

First, of course, will be the announcement of the contest winner.   I’ll also be hitting a farmers’ market, natch.  And then there’s the annual romp into psuedo-history.  Yes, the Southern California Renaissance Faire opens this weekend, and geek that I am, I’ll be donning the bodice and skirts (hush) and chowing down on some Steak on a Stake, ribbon fries, artichokes, and toad-in-a-hole.  They have a tamale cart this year, which I’m just going to have to sample.  You know, for science.  Ahem.

There will likely be pictures.  Hoping to keeping my greasy fingers off the lens this year.

What there will sadly not be is a trip out to Tapia Brothers in Encino for the annual Tomatomania event, which starts tomorrow and goes through Sunday.   I got my plants from the San Gabriel Nursery this year, and the next, local Tomatomania event isn’t until May (in Arcadia), which is on the hairy edge of being a bit late in the planting season for me.  Had to pick my battles this weekend, and Tomatomania lost.  BUT, it would be really great if you locals out there went and reported back.  Say hi to the chickens for me.