6 - 2007 | ***Dave Does the Blog

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!

Via David (who didn’t credit where he got them from). WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? I don’t think so — certainly not anyone in the family. I suspect that, given…

Via David (who didn’t credit where he got them from).

WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
I don’t think so — certainly not anyone in the family. I suspect that, given my birth date, “David” was inspired by the previous president (Eisenhower) as anything else. Mom, Dad, care to clarify?

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Serious soul-wrenching tears? Can’t recall. Less serious ones? Every time I see the end of Willow, fergoshsakes, and the title character’s reunion with his wife.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
I think my signature is classily illegible (someone once told me it was the most pretentious signature they’d ever seen). I don'[t handwrite (cursive) as a rule (and so am very proud of my nearly pristine handwriting); my printing scrawl is idiosyncratic, and thus something I can like except to the extent that others can’t read it when I want them to.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Hard salami. Mmmmmm.

DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
I have one. She is da bomb.

IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
I hope so, though I can be sort of … difficult at times.

DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
Not as much as it seems.

DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yup. I always vaguely regretted that (in a stupid way, along with regretting never breaking something that required a cast).

WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
I wouldn’t go out of my way to arrange such … but … yeah, I can see myself doing that. Though the whole blind-withoiut-glasses glasses-flying-off-face thing would need to be addressed to make it properly terrifying/thrilling.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
I don’t eat a lot of cereal, but I like various granolas (especially the unhealthy ones), or oatmeal (with lots of white sugar) or cream of wheat (with lots of brown sugar).

DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Not usually, no. Of course, I also prefer loafers or sandels, just for that reason.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
Surprisingly more than I think I am, if that makes any sense.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Under ordinary circumstances, a very strong vanilla. If we’re getting exotic, H-D Rum Raisin is my standard, though anything with a strong caramel, cinnamon, ginger, and/or coconut flavor will grab me. Especially if praline pecans are involved. Actually, let’s be real — as long as it’s not fruity, I adore ice cream in general.

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Their hair and their eyes. Then their voice/vocabulary/accent. If female, their figure.

RED OR PINK?
Red. Definitely.

WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
My laziness.

WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
Hard to say. I tend to take people as they appear (or disappear) in my life. I guess I miss most the people I’ve lost contact with — but it’s not something I dwell on.

WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue denim shorts and … barefoot.

WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
Some posole at an Albuquerque restaurant.

WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The fan humming upstairs. Margie coughing. The wind in the cottonwoods out back.

IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Brick Red. Maybe Royal Blue. Red-Orange (over Orange-Red). Burnt Sienna.

FAVORITE SMELLS?
Bacon. Fresh bread. Fried chicken. Jasmine.

WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My daughter, who’s out in California with the grandparents (and having a faboo time).

FAVORITE SPORTS?
To watch? Football. Golf. Rally racing. To participate in? Golf. Karate. Football.

HAIR COLOR?
Very dark brown with various highlights (and increasing amounts of silver).

EYE COLOR?
Hazel.

DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
You want me to poke what onto my eyeballs? Are you insane? Next thing you know, you’ll be suggesting I let people taking frickin’ lasers to my corneas!

FAVORITE FOOD?
Bacon. Carrot cake (savory, not spicy). Ice cream (see above). Cottage potatoes sauteed with onions, bacon fat, garlic (or, alternately, hash browns). Steak.

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Definitely with the happy endings.

LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Um … no idea.

WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Brownish Hawaiian print.

SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter. It’s always easy to warm up; it’s rarely easy to cool off.

HUGS OR KISSES?
Depends on the person. Margie? Kisses.

FAVORITE DESSERT?
See “ice cream” above. Failing that, apple-crumble, carrot cake, plain cheese-cake, snickerdoodles.

MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
If it’s someone I know.

LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
If I’m feeling stressed.

WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
I’m in the middle of rereading the Sten series. Revenge of the Damned. In audiobooks, I’m listening to Guns, Germs, & Steel.

WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
I don’t have one.

WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?
Um … haven’t watched TV in over a week. Before that … probably something Katherine was watching.

FAVORITE SOUND?
Voices of my loved ones. Laughter. Water babbling over something. Handel’s Messiah, especially the last few pieces.

ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles. Definitely.

WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
The UK.

DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I can read and speak in front of a crowd. People seem to think that’s pretty special. I can also whistle in three distinct ways (though not that ear-piercing get-everyone’s-attention way).

WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Stanford Medical Center. As (ironically) was my brother-in-law.

WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
I don’t plan on sending this on to anyone. Been there, done that today.

Lushness

This has been a truly remarkable spring-into-summer, with various plants about the yard springing into incredibly lush and vigorous growth, making the garden something to truly be wowed by….

The flowers the bloom in spring, tra-la-la!

This has been a truly remarkable spring-into-summer, with various plants about the yard springing into incredibly lush and vigorous growth, making the garden something to truly be wowed by.

The down side to that is that it’s not all Good Plants with White Hats that have been so benefited by the moisture and all, but also Evil Plants with Black Hats. Lots of weeds springing up in beds. Tons of clover. Crab grass everywhere (nothing new there). And an amazingly invasive vine that is growing over everything.

*sigh* If we weren’t expecting mid-90s tomorrow, I’d seriously consider a major weeding campaign.

8 Random Facts about Me

I’m sure I’ve done this before, but since Les (the bastard) tagged me for it, I suppose I must comply. Which means I have to post the rules: We have to…

I’m sure I’ve done this before, but since Les (the bastard) tagged me for it, I suppose I must comply. Which means I have to post the rules:

We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
Don’t forget to leave them each a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Okay, fine. I don’t promise these are unique.

Habit: Start the shower. Shampoo hair. Rinse. Condition hair. Soap up loofa and apply apprporiately. Rinse. Face goo. Rinse. Shave. Rinse. Turn off the shower.
Fact: I don’t just dislike Scotch. It actually makes me (except for the mildest and lightest of them) physically ill. Which is an aspect of the Single Malt Tasting Party at my future-in-laws back a number of years ago I will not soon forget. On th e other hand, that does give me an excuse (when everyone else is ordering a Scotch) to go for a Gin (Bombay Sapphire) Martini, very dry, with a twist (my Official Bar Drink).
Fact: I started writing a collaborative fantasy novel with Sara Munns (or was it Munz?) back in college. The premise was what would happen if a standard fantasy a la LotR ended with one of the questers actually seizing the McGuffin (Boromir-style) and becoming the Dark Lord himself, with the action opening up a few centuries later. I have no idea whatever happened to her, though I still have the first dozen chapters or so in a folder somewhere.
Fact: My first kiss (other than something familial) was a stage kiss at the Little Theater at Glendora High School.
Fact: My first car was a 1971 VW Super Beetle, colored that typical powder blue (marinablau). It’s California license plate was 625CHV, so I named it “Miniver Cheevy” after a favorite poem of mine.
Fact: I was a huge wargamer in junior high and high school, and had many Avalon-Hill bookcase games (including my beloved PanzerBlitz) and a long subscription to SPI’s Strategy & Tactics magazine (and the games that went with it). I still have those games in boxes down in the basement, on the off chance I ever encounter someone who is interested in playing them.
Fact: My favorite “Disney Princess” is Belle. Mary Poppins, on the other hand, terrifies me.
Fact: My personal totem is the Raven. To the extent that an Anglo/Guelo like me gets a personal totem. That said, I also like otters and zebras. Which is not the same as my fondness for cat-girls. Ahem.

Now, of course, comes the trick of Who the Hell to tag with this. Eight? Eight?! Ye gods.

My apologies to all of you in advance.

Inn on the Paseo, Santa Fe, NM

We stayed at the Inn on the Paseo when last we were in Santa Fe, a decade ago. We recommended it to my folks, who do a drive out to…

We stayed at the Inn on the Paseo when last we were in Santa Fe, a decade ago. We recommended it to my folks, who do a drive out to visit each year, so they’ve been staying there since. The place was patched up and sold in the last year, and my folks reported it was still okay … so we gave it a go again.

The Inn is a B&B made up of two older buildings joined by a common structure that includes the breakfast room and lobby. The structure is on a hill, with the Paseo entrance on the top floor, and parking down behind on the bottom floor.

Overall		Comfort
Food		Service
Convenience		Prices

Comfort: We had a room on the top floor, on the Paseo (lucky Room 13). It had all the amenities, a high queen-size bed, a full bath attached, a closet, even an entrance off the street (which we didn’t use). It was immediately adjacent to a lounge space outside (which provided a nice area to read and relax in the evening).

The room was a bit cramped for furniture, and some of the doors tended to conflict with each other. The bathroom fan was godawful noisy, and the mattress was very, very firm. The swamp cooler (in addition to a ceiling fan) kept the room nice and cool — but at night,as it cycled directly above the bed, it made things vary between comfortable and cold. (The cooler did help mask any street noise, however.)

For amenities, there was a fridge downstairs where we could have stored food if we wanted. There was free Wi-Fi — apparently (digging into the site) intended. The service was down on a couple of lengthy occasions, and there was no info about it in the room. Like most B&Bs, there was no workout room or pool.

Parking was in back, and we didn’t have any problems finding spaces during the week (though things were looking tighter as we left on a Saturday; there are 18 rooms, and I’m not sure there were 18 stalls).

Food: Only breakfast is served — a large array of fruit, cereal (including good granola), juices, toast (on great bread), fresh-baked muffins and croissants, etc. On most mornings, we were offered waffles, which were light and tasty (on one morning the person on shift failed to ask us, and on the last morning the manager indicated she was out of one ingredient of another); regardless, there was little excuse to leave the breakfast table (or back deck) hungry.

At night, there was often (though not always) fresh-baked cookies in the dining area, and usually coffee in carafes.

Service: The room was always cleaned well. The gent who was watching over the front desk and breakfast did okay — but Margie noted that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself when actually not doing something, and while he was attentive when he checked in, he didn’t always pick up on stuff he should have.

Convenience: The Paseo de Paralta circumnavigates three-quarters of downtown, and the inn’s location (at about 1:30 p.m. on the clock face) was fabulous. The downtown and Plaza were about a five minute walk, and Canyon Road about a ten minute one. The place is well-located for any trips up north, but, honestly, if you’re not planning on going to Museum Hill or outside town, you could be at the Inn without a car and not miss it (there is, apparently, a “rack rate” with a free shuttle from the airport).

Prices: Look to range from about $140 to $270, depending on room involved (our room was at the bottom end of that spectrum). Not a huge bargain, but compared to other places that close to the Plaza, quite reasonable.

Overall: This wasn’t a “we’ve adopted you as part of our family” sort of B&B, but it was a lot more comfortable and friendly and less institutional than most hotels, and the convenience of walking to the Plaza cannot be underestimated. I wouldn’t hesitate to book there again.

Inn on the Paseo – 630 Paseo de Peralta, Santa Fe, NM 87501 – 800-457-9045

Santa Fe – Saturday

Last day … and, oddly, neither Deeply Depressed over it, nor Tiredly Glad. Just is, which is probably a sign it was a good time to leave. Slept in late,…

Last day … and, oddly, neither Deeply Depressed over it, nor Tiredly Glad. Just is, which is probably a sign it was a good time to leave.

Slept in late, then wandered out for breakfast (note to self: still need a review of the B&B). The owner was finally there — she’d been out of town during our whole stay — and was charming and pleasant and made us sorry she hadn’t been around sooner.

After stocking up on a nice breakfast, we went back to the room to pack, which took a lot less time than I though it would. Though most of the stuff we bought is being shipped, there were a few things it was easier/cheaper for us to carry — which added one more carry-on (not counting the last-second at-check-in shifting of 6 lbs. of baggage into our carry-on from our big suitcase).

Once we were checked out, we finally did some museum-visiting. There’s a big cluster of them on Museum Hill, about a 5 minute drive SE of downtown (too far to walk). We ended up going to two of them.

We went to the Museum of International Folk Art last time we were in town, and it’s just as interesting as before. There was a fascinating exhibit on a Sufi mystic revered in Senegal, Sheik Amadou Bamba (1853-1927) — including various iconography around him based on a single photo of him in 1913. There was also a cool exhibit on textiles and tools (which Margie did some weaving at) — but, the centerpiece, as last time, is the Girard folk art exhibit. Which I can only describe as “A Small World” on steroids and truly authentic. An amazing display that any visitor to Santa Fe should see.

(For those wondering the difference between “folk art” and “fine art” — well, from everything I’ve been able to read, art scholars aren’t all that sure either (and so some of them want to abolish both terms). From what I can tell, though, if it’s mass produced, made by the plebes and the heathen, sold at road-side stands, and not likely to draw folks in tweed jackets to drink white white and eat brie at the opening — it’s folk art.)

From there, we crossed the plaza to the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture, We only had time to tour half of it, but we were firmly impressed by the time we were done that we have done a tremendous wrong to the Native Americans by making them wear store-bought clothes.

No, I jest. And I certainly think the First Peoples here in this continent were done a series of tremendous wrongs that extend up to the current day. By the same token, though, there was a certain … almost whininess about some of the exhibits, as in the one display where one of the first-person stories spoke wistfully about how, instead of wearing hand-woven clothes like her grandparents, she wears store-bought — as if “the Man” had robbed her of that.

It’s un-PC — and, again, I’d be the first to support reparations or massive increases of the BIA budget or whatever it would take to help deal with the massive damage done to the Native Americans (one could arguably make a case that it exceeds the evils done to African-Americans over the centuries) — but at some point you say, “Time marches on” and “I’m kinda sorry I don’t slow-cook a fabulous pasta sauce the way my grandmother used to, but instead eat pasta sauce out of a jar most of the time, too” and move on with things.

That requires more pondering.

At any rate, at that point we piled into the car and headed back south. We got to the Albuquerque “Sunport” (yes, that’s what they call it) in plenty of time, and turned in the Forester.

(Mini-review: Spacious for a “small” SUV; decent pep for the bottom-of-the-line rental model, even if some of the automatic gearing was strange; I’ll keep it in mind when we (once again) start looking for cars (once rebuild our down payment 🙂 .)

At check-in, the Curse of Dave Hill, International Man of Mystery struck again (as it did with every check-in this trip). At least they can now clear me from their screens, without having to call the TSA Mother Ship the way they did in the past.

We had lunch at the Garduño’s inside the airport — a New Mexico restaurant chain that I remember fondly from business trips to Albuquerque past. We decided for a big lunch so that we didn’t have to hassle dinner when we got home (the plan worked), and I had a huge bowl of Posole. Yum.

Then through the security check-in area (a major addition to the airport since I was last through), where I discovered I had too many snaps on my shorts and had to be wanded (by a very polite and professional TSA fellow) while Margie rescued all our carry-on (and my wallet and sandals and hat) from the conveyor belt.

Which left us about twenty minutes to kill before boarding, which let me once again marvel that the Sunport not only doesn’t make life difficult for laptop users — they actually provide large tables with plentiful power outlets and free Wi-Fi to business travelers. Amazing (and worth lauding).

Aside from some problems fitting our now-larger carry-ons into the tiny CanadAir overhead bins, the flight home was uneventful. Jackie picked us up and drove us to her place, where the van was, and we headed home.

Where we did some minor unpacking, did a bit of picking up of post-raccoon incursion mess (and great kudos to Doyce for taking point on that), confirmed that the folks who redid our cable line and placed it underground managed to sever the control wires for one of our sprinker zones, battened down the hatches for the evening, and …

… well, I did a bit of blogging …

Good trip. Good to be home.

Apparently raccoons dislike sandals

The remains of one of Margie’s sandals. The sole is chewed upon, the straps are torn apart, and … yeesh….

The remains of one of Margie’s sandals. The sole is chewed upon, the straps are torn apart, and … yeesh.

Weaving

Margie contributes to a weaving project at the Museum of International Folk Art, Santa Fe….

Margie contributes to a weaving project at the Museum of International Folk Art, Santa Fe.

Why I love Margie

The guy at the art gallery where we ended up dropping a lot of money commented that Margie and I really seem to have a lot of fun together. And…

The guy at the art gallery where we ended up dropping a lot of money commented that Margie and I really seem to have a lot of fun together. And … that’s true.

But the whole Big Art Purchase thing this week (which really came out of the blue as far as we both were concerned) really outlined for me something special about my relationship with Margie.

I would love to be a fly on the wall for most of the gallery’s transactions, but I suspect they most often fall into the following categories (when dealing with couples):

“I want that.” “You can’t have it.” “I am going to get it anyway, just to spite you.”
“I want that.” “Okay, well, if you get that, I get this, so there.” “Harrumph. Fine, neither of us will get anything.”
“I want that.” “Okay, well, if you get that, I get this, so there.” “Harrumph. Okay, than I get this, too.” “Oh, yeah …?”
“I want that.” “Whatever you like dear. Where are we going for lunch?”
“I want that.” “Fine, whatever you want, I’ll just stew over here and sulk and express my displeasure some other way.”

With Margie and I, it wasn’t so much a matter of having similar tastes (we both like a lot of the same things, but we also have our unique aesthetics that sometimes jar the other), as much as seeing the whole process as a mutual effort — subject to compassionate veto (and respectful understanding thereof) by either side, dealing with surprises (“Wait — you want what?“), balancing weaknesses (“She’s Impulsive! He’s Risk-Averse! Together They Fight Crime!”) and strengths (“That could go there” “What if we placed that over by that other thing?”), and recognizing that, especially with something like house decor (and significant dollars to be spent on it, making it more than just “decor”), this really needed to be a joint decision that we would both be happy about when all was said and done.

And it was.

And, y’know, after all the good food and interesting sights and moments of passion and moments of quiet and all — that is what is going to remain as my most pleasant memory of this trip. We worked well as a team.

Neat.

Santa Fe – Friday

Same-old same-old in the morning. Then, time for art. Reviewing the pieces we wanted. Discussing options. Considering. Being offered deals. Being offered good deals. Reconsidering. Re-reconsidering. Dithering. Deciding. And ……

Same-old same-old in the morning.

Then, time for art.

Reviewing the pieces we wanted. Discussing options. Considering. Being offered deals. Being offered good deals. Reconsidering. Re-reconsidering. Dithering. Deciding.

And … walking out having committed to buying more than I’d thought we would when we came here (by, oh, a factor of ten), but being pretty pleased nonetheless. Heirloom stuff here.

I won’t go into the details, both out of a sense of minor embarrassment (“You spent how much?”) and so as to surprise our visitors.

Aaaaand … I blame it all on Margie, who managed to seduce me into buying so much art, with her womanly wiles and …

Yeah. She got that same look on her face when I framed it all that way.

Afterwards, we went up to Shidoni Foundry, a cool metalworking and bronze casting facility about ten, fifteen minutes north on Bishops Lodge Rd. They have a couple of huge sculpture gardens, a small gallery at the foundry, the foundry itself (open to wander through a few times a day, with actual pourings on Saturday afternoons), and a “fine arts” gallery. Some very nice stuff, though nothing that made me regret our own purchases.

Right next door is Tesuque Glass, a glassworks and gallery. Also very fun (and blowing is going on there all the time).

From there, we decided it would be fun to head off to Taos, maybe take in some of the scenery up there.

A nasty construction-related traffic jam revised those plans, and we ended up in Espanola (where we ate lunch at a Sonic), then driving some fun back roads to Chimayo, Cordova, and Truchas. Went to some small, fun galleries in Truchas, then headed back …

(Truchas, we later determined, was our infamous “side road” incident last visit down here. We decided to take the scenic “High Road to Taos” on the way back home, and some bored kids in Truchas — like, what’s there to do there if you’re a kid — decided to remove the signs for the left-hand turn in the middle of town. We — and quite a number of cars ahead and behind us — kept driving straight as the road got narrower, lost its dividing paint, lost its asphalt, lost its gravel …

Yeah, real cut-ups, those Truchas kids.)

The road back had some marvelous vistas of distant thunderstorms as we wove our way through brushy mesas amid twists and turns. Very nice. Returned to the Inn around 5, relaxed, etc., then headed off to dinner at 6.

And rolled back to the hotel at about 9:30-10, full if not fully satisfied. Mmmmm. Sleeeepy …

Restaurant Review: The Old House (Santa Fe)

This was to be the piece de resistance for the vacation — the big “final night, special night” dinner. It was — but the restaurant didn’t add as much to…

This was to be the piece de resistance for the vacation — the big “final night, special night” dinner. It was — but the restaurant didn’t add as much to it as it ought to have. Not bad, by any means — just a little disappointing.

Overall
Food		Service
Ambience		Prices

Food: We had cocktails to begin with. I had a yummy margarita with sloe gin added for sweetness and color. Margie had a mojito, very minty.

The bread was excellent. The little tray of salts from around the world was precious, but not terribly helpful.

(An older version of the menu is here.)

I had a Caesar Salad. It was … exotic, but not all that great. Too little dressing, and the warm, savory, wet croutons (?) were not all that. Margie’s asparagus salad was good, but not faboo.

The wine list (old version here) was extensive, well-organized, and quite pricey. Not overpriced per se, but tending toward more expensive wines (lots of things in the three figure range). We had a very nice “final night” Plumpjack cab (not three figures), which held up well to the succeeding food.

I had the New Mexico buffalo steak, which came with various vegies, a funky crouton of some sort, a “hash” of “legacy potatoes” and oxtail, and a spinach underpinning. The whole was lumped very artistically in the middle of the plate, and the portions were reasonable but … nothing really melded or stood out or reinforced each other, even though the individual ingredients were solid quality and well-prepared. The buffalo was tasty but lean. The hash was really individual ingredients. The “razzcherry” demi-glace wasn’t strong enough to matter, but present enough to distract.

This is not me being hoity-toity. But when paying the prices and getting the ingredients, I expect the whole to surpass the parts — especially when the whole is stacked artistically together in the middle of the plate with a flower on top. It didn’t.

Margie’s beef tenderloin suffered in much the same way. The orzo was the most interesting bit, but the overall impression didn’t stand up to the quality of the ingredients or even the individual preparations of each part.

We decided to have dessert (old menu here). Ironically, after having had an artistic mound for the entree, the desserts were deconstructed across the plate. I had a “Bee Keeper Honey Spice Cake” (good, if slightly underbaked) with maple ice cream (not particularly mapley) and some sort of flavor drizzle (honey? Not much flavor). Good dessert wine with that. Margie had a chocolate mini-cake with walnut ice cream and etc. Again, the sum did not match the parts, even when presented as parts.

The coffee was quite good.

Service: Service was highly professional. Things came and went in an appropriately swift fashion, pleasant and competent. The only false note was being able to hear the recommendations from our waiter for the entrees for the evening — which varied (without prompting) from table to table.

Ambience: Though part of the Eldorado Hotel, the space is quite separate and very nicely appointed.

Prices: You are paying here for the space, the service, and the ingredients, plus (ostensibly) the cooking. This dinner (albeit with a very nice bottle of wine and cocktails) cost as twice what any other dinner we had this week did. Was it twice as good? Alas, no.

Overall: We had 6 p.m. reservations on a Friday, and were a little late, but even on opening night of the Santa Fe opera, we had no trouble being seated. (We were a scosh underdressed vs the opera patrons, but once they were gone, we fit in fine.)

The Old House should be a destination restaurant, a “oh, if you have the time and the bucks, here’s the place to have the truly excellent meal of your stay.” It sadly fell short of that mark. Not to say I didn’t clean my plate, or that the ideas and ingredients weren’t interesting and well-thought, or that I felt truly ripped off. But it just didn’t … quite … gel. Sadly, because I was expecting a lot more (especially after the bread). It was good, but not AAA Four-Diamond Rating (or was that the price?) great.

The Old House, Eldorado Hotel, 309 W. San Francisco St. (a couple blocks west of the Plaza), Santa Fe, NM – (505) 995-4530

Disconnected

*sigh* Well, the place didn’t advertise WiFi, so I was pleasantly surprised when I actually got a signal and was able to go online. Except it all died on me…

*sigh*

Well, the place didn’t advertise WiFi, so I was pleasantly surprised when I actually got a signal and was able to go online.

Except it all died on me last night. Don’t know if something failed, if the intrusion was detected and blocked, or if something’s gotten screwed up on my end. Went out to the lobby and recycled the power on the modem/router, too.

Ah, well …

… and, after spending all Friday down as well, Saturday morning things are back up. Yay!

Recommended guide books for Santa Fe

About a week and change before our trip, I hit Buns & Noodles for a Santa Fe book to give to Margie. It was actually tough, because most the guide…

About a week and change before our trip, I hit Buns & Noodles for a Santa Fe book to give to Margie. It was actually tough, because most the guide books are New Mexico in general, or Santa Fe / Taos / Albuquerque all rolled into one (which means spending a lot of money for just a portion of the book if all you want is Santa Fe).

I finally ended up with the Insiders’ Guide toSanta Fe. It covers the area very nicely — history, restaurants, places to visit, galleries, lots of explanatory text, etc. Recommended. Except …

Well, if you’re too cheap to buy a book, and don’t feel the need to read and plan before you get there — well, once you’re here, you can’t swing a dead kokapeli without finding extensive guide books for free in any gallery or hotel you visit. Canyon Road Arts Compete Visitors Guide to Santa Fe; Inside Santa Fe; Santa Fe Circle Art Buyers Guide; Collectors Guide (Albuquerque, Santa Fe, Taos) … plus numerous maps and brochures and whatnot at every stop.

Each of the guides tends to be long on advertisements and short on other stuff, but most have maps, a nice description and reference pages for the various galleries and restaurants in the area (at least the ones that paid to be included), a few interesting articles, etc. Lacking a “real” guide book, they can help you get by without too much trouble — but it was nice to have figured out ahead of time some places we wanted to eat (and/or visit).

It’s also worth noting that a lot of hotels and B&Bs carry a collection of local guide books beyond the advertisement-ridden ones. They may be a year or two out of date, but a lot of the info still pertains.

Santa Fe – Thursday

Woke too early. Lounged about some. Hearty breakfast. Then … to work. Yes, we’re buying art. Not just art, but Art. No, the full parameters haven’t been defined. But, suffice…

Woke too early. Lounged about some. Hearty breakfast. Then … to work.

Yes, we’re buying art. Not just art, but Art.

No, the full parameters haven’t been defined. But, suffice it to say, I’m blaming Margie. For whatever. That’s the advantage of having my own blog — I can enjoy my art and blame it someone else, too.

We did actually buy some artsy stuff today — small bits (some decor for the back yard, some small stuff for inside, some Christmas gifts). We decided against something I was sure we were getting (or, rather, put it off until another time) — and substituted something much larger for it.

It will all be striking, and I’ve learned there is, indeed, a reason why we only do this once a decade. Besides which, Margie got a really nice bonus thing that can go into the kitty, and, besides which, we don’t really need to buy a new car this year, really truly.

Made some decisions, but the big Placing Down of the Money happens tomorrow morning. ‘Nuff said.

(As a parenthetical aside — Santa Fe is a Macintosh town. Don’t know how many iBooks, iMacs, etc. I’ve seen in various galleries. Striking.)

Once that was all said and done, and we were quit of Canyon Rd. (save for the pondering), we headed back to the hotel, then down to the Plaza.

Lunch was at La Casa Sena — a scosh more pricey than I’d planned, but they had the best margarita I’ve had on the trip, a very fresh green chile “stew,” and a green chile burger to die for. Yum.

Then we wandered about for the next several hours, going to multiple shops, buying something for Kitten, checking out the one museum we’ve made it to (the Institute of American Indian Arts Museum — “Tate Modern Meets First Peoples!”), and walking, walking, walking …

We thought we’d spotted where we were having dinner, but we were fooled by the dearth of originality regarding hotel names in Santa Fe. We were looking for the Hotel Santa Fe, but failed to account for all hotels in Santa Fe being named some combination of the following terms: “Inn at/of” “Hotel” “Santa Fe” “Old” “Paseo” “Governors” “Plaza” “[Street Name]” — and thus discovered “Old Santa Fe Inn” (sign seen unclearly at at a distance) is not the same as “Hotel Santa Fe.”

Thus the walk to dinner was … longer than anticipated. But it was worth the walk, and afterward Margie shamelessly gulled the hotel shuttle driver to take us back up the Cathedral so that it was just a short walk to the B&B.

Then a nice, relaxing evening of reading and coffee and chocolate chip cookies. A nice way to handle a day full of walking and purchase-stresses. 🙂 Except, of course, the house Internet connection went down, which means I’ll likely be filing this (I hope) on tomorrow.

And aside from that tomorrow? We close some deals (maybe), visit a foundry, and then … who knows? Museums? Taos? Food? Margaritas? Well, probably margaritas at least. Stay tuned!

Restaurant Review: Amaya at Hotel Santa Fe

Our guide book indicated this restaurant — located in the Hotel Santa Fe — was noteworthy for combining popular food with interesting local flavors (“Eclectic New Western”). While less nouveau than I’d expected (which is not necessarily a bad thing), it was a good place to eat, and a largely pleasant experience going there.

Overall
Food		Service
Ambience		Prices

Food: The menu was not huge, but there were several things of interest. There was plenty of innovation on the menu, but not so much as to be off-putting for a relatively conservative diner like me.

We got there before they opened at 6:30p, so we hung out in the lounge; Margie had a ice tea, while I had a “Desperado,” their local margarita with a splash of cognac (which didn’t really add to the drink, to be honest).

For starters I had a green chile bisque — which, just as it sounds, was a delightfully creamy green chile soup with a small rolled tortilla in the middle. Very nice. Then for entree a Kobe beef steak (like butter), garlic-sautéed shrimp (yum), wasabi-spiced risotto (a bit bland), and soy beans with a very hot sauce dotted to the outside. The food ranged from delicious to quite accectible, and there was more there than I could eat.

Margie had a baby arugula house salad she enjoyed, then a green chile enchilada dish that was festooned with tons of stuff. Again, more than she could eat.

We skipped dessert.

The wine list was moderate-sized and reasonably priced. Interesting, the top three most expensive wines were Pinot Noirs, and there was a Merlot on there also more expensive than any of the several Cabs they had; I’ve never seen a restaurant with such a weak Cab list. We had an Argentinian Malbec, fairly reasonable and pretty tasty.

Service: Service was friendly and attentive. No complaints, and a fair amount of praise — I didn’t feel good friends with any of the staff afterwards, but they all did their job with precision and grace.

Ambience: Sitting in the lobby area of the hotel, it’s hard to have enough ambience. The decor was nice, and we have a window seat looking out on the thunderstorm system passing through, but there was nothing particularly special about it all.

Prices: Not cheap, but not wildly excessive. Our entrees ranged from $16-28, with the soup and salad extra. The wine was a bit pricey, and I had an extra drink beforehand, so we ended up paying more than we’ve paid the earlier nights.

Overall: Amaya isn’t a “destination” restaurant, but it’s worth going to — which is saying more than it sounds, because it is a loooooong walk SW from downtown, through some marginally sketchy neighborhoods. I don’t think I would go out of my way to return, and it’s not going to be anyone’s keynote Santa Fe dining experience — but I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it, either. The food was tasty, mildly interesting, plentiful, a bit pricey, and satisfying.

We arrived on a Thursday night at opening, and had no problems getting seated without reservations; the place is not huge, though, and has the hotel to support, and so was beginning to get a bit more crowded by the time we left.

Amaya Restaurant at the Hotel Santa Fe – 1501 Paseo de Paralta (at Cerrillos), Santa Fe, NM – (505) 984-1788,

Potpourri for another Saturday on Vacation

Robo-Dave suggests: The Sins of PowerPoint. For the love of God, send this to all your business associates. How to maintain classroom discipline … 1950s style. Folks who do pot…

Robo-Dave suggests:

The Sins of PowerPoint. For the love of God, send this to all your business associates.
How to maintain classroom discipline … 1950s style.
Folks who do pot gardening are probably familiar with hydrogel crystals, which absorb water (and so can release it slowly into the soil). Some Italian researchers are working on a diet hydrogel pill — swallow with watter, and it swells up in your stomach and makes you feel full. Yeah, it’s not “diet and exercise,” but I could see it being handy for some people (or before a large, tempting dinner).

Potpourri for another Friday on Vacation

Robo-Dave suggests: New Baby Names. I’m a big believer in personal freedom and parental autonomy and all that, but … yeesh, I feel sorry for some of these kids. Azorryona,…

Robo-Dave suggests:

New Baby Names. I’m a big believer in personal freedom and parental autonomy and all that, but … yeesh, I feel sorry for some of these kids. Azorryona, Abreeah, Adragus, Azaia, Adler, Amiana, Abrienna, Aven, Axie …
Largest island in a lake on an island in a lake on an island.
The Armageddon Flowchart.
Think those Hummer limos are impressive? Bah. The Midnight Rider has them all beat. I’m actually only half-kidding … and half-impressed.

Bunny!

We did not buy the giant bunny bronze. But we did buy — well, we now own actual fine art. Gah! And … Glee!…

We did not buy the giant bunny bronze. But we did buy — well, we now own actual fine art. Gah! And … Glee!

Potpourri for a Thursday on Vacation

Robo-Dave suggests: I don’t have any particular interest in changing over to Safari as a browser … but it’s welcome as another innovation-driving competitor in the Windows web browser realm….

Robo-Dave suggests:

I don’t have any particular interest in changing over to Safari as a browser … but it’s welcome as another innovation-driving competitor in the Windows web browser realm.
Companies and fonts.
It’s maddening how many people seem to equate “faith” with “not using the brains God gave a turnip.” I’m not talking about atheistic zealots, but the “faithful” themselves.
Cognitive biases. Great list. Another list of things I think every kid should be taught (in a more digested form).
Sudan is an international pariah, economically, due to various bits of civil war and genocidal plots — shunned in international trade except for one commodity that everyone still continues to buy (discreetly): gum arabic.

Parish the thought

The Episcopal Church has won a legal victory in California. Though a lower court had originally ruled against the diocese of Los Angeles in a court case regarding some…

The Episcopal Church has won a legal victory in California. Though a lower court had originally ruled against the diocese of Los Angeles in a court case regarding some break-away parishes retaining ownership of their church property, a state appeals court has reversed that ruling, arguing that the church’s own internal rules and canon law make it clear that church property belongs to the diocese and the national church, not individual parishes.

In Monday’s ruling, however, presiding Justice David G. Sills, who wrote for the panel, made clear that it had confined its decision to the property dispute and not the broader controversy. “Readers will look in vain in this opinion for any indication of what religious controversy may have prompted the disaffiliation,” Sills wrote. ” … That controversy is irrelevant to this action.”
Sills later concluded, “The right of the general church in this case to enforce a trust on the local parish property is clear.”

The dissidents indicated that this was (a) not in keeping with California case law (possibly, though it is how most state laws work in such cases) and (b) very, very, very sad that the Nassssssty Episcopal Church would take other Christians to court over such unGodly things as property matters.

It’s this latter defense that drives me up the freaking wall. If property weren’t an issue here … then why are they kicking up such a fuss? Why are they considering where they worship as so important? If they want to break away, aren’t they better served by leaving it all behind and showing their missionary zeal by starting afresh?

Oh, I forgot, it’s their church.

I don’t know the particulars for the parishes involved, but I can use my own as at least some guidance. Yes, our parish was responsible for raising money and buying our church property and constructing it and expanding it and paying the mortgage. On the face of it, it’s “ours.”

Except, of course, for the canon law that says that we’re holding it in trust for the church and for all Episcopalians who may come to our community to worship.

And except, of course, even where there was no direct financial aid to the church from the diocese, the diocese was either explicitly or implicitly part of the deal. If we go under, our debtors will go after the diocese, whether or not they counter-signed our mortgage. That’s one reason we were able to negotiate a mortgage at the terms we did — it wasn’t just our x-hundred member congregation (“The Grace L. Fergusson Storm Door and Church Co.”) but the entire diocese of Colorado and the Episcopal Church there in the office with us.

Add to that the other assistance the diocese has provided us over the years, whether or not we’ve matched it back, and for us to say that, no, it all belongs to us, not you, so get off our lawn, you darned heretics, is not only itself unChristian, it’s just goofy.

If I decided that I was leaving the Episcopal Church, I’d go. I wouldn’t take a Prayer Book from the pews with me. If I and the majority of my parishioners reached the same decision, we’d go, and leave our building behind. And if that meant we had to build our own church, then that’s what we’d do. Christ’s disciples didn’t argue with the Pharisees that they should get ownership of the Jewish temples; they went out and built their own communities. It’s not sexy and it’s not easy and it’s gut-wrenching … but you’d sort of expect such a decision to be that way anyway.

While the vacationers are away …

Doyce informs us that the raccoon was back in the house last night — and not only wolfed down any available food, but, frustrated by the pantry door being…

Doyce informs us that the raccoon was back in the house last night — and not only wolfed down any available food, but, frustrated by the pantry door being hooked shut, decided to shred a nerf football, some plastic insects, a couple of sandals, and other sundries.

Joy.

Maybe we should go out and buy some art to replace the damaged goods …