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books

The River of Doubt

In the pantheon of great American ass-kickers, Theodore Roosevelt floats to the top of the “political figure” category. This 5’8” fireplug of a man supposedly topped out at a solid 200 lbs during his most active days despite being born a sickly child. He had a long history of tackling hardship and defeat by “vigorously pushing his body and mind to endure punishing outdoor adventures” (I think this is a quote).

After he lost the 1912 presidential election, he was a beaten man. So he decided that the best way to combat the blues was to go on a huge, rigorous South American adventure. This, despite the fact that he was over 50 years old and should have been thinking about retiring to his country estate.

Interestingly enough, for you fellow ND fans, one of the primary planners for the trip was a chemistry and physics professor from the University of Notre Dame named Father John Zahm. Father Zahm was an accomplished adventurer/scholar and an acquaintance of Roosevelt’s. However, Father Zahm’s plan for a safe, easy trip on the Amazon and the exploration of a few of the smaller, connecting rivers was quickly squelched by Roosevelt. Roosevelt viewed this as nothing less than a serious, scientific endeavor, and traveling on a slow-moving boat watching the shore go by was not what he had in mind.

This was only the start of friction between Father Zahm and Roosevelt. At one point early on, well before the expedition even reached the mouth of the River of Doubt, Father Zahm expressed his desire to be carried on a chair by the locals through the jungle rather than walking. Roosevelt disagreed strongly and would not allow Father Zahm such a luxury. In fact, it was important for Roosevelt to maintain equality with the native guides and assistants. At one point Roosevelt refused to use a chair unless his Brazilian counterpart also had a chair.

This incident probably played a big part in what followed. Roosevelt and the rest of the leaders of the trip signed a letter mandating that Father Zahm be sent home. Wow, what a blow! I’m reading this book after a 3-9 season and hearing that Notre Dame is responsible for NBC’s bottom feeding TV ratings. Like I needed to hear more negative Notre Dame sentiment. Oh well, the truth hurts, but we move on.

Yes, we move one, like the expedition did sans Father Zahm. But Father Zahm wasn’t the only member that was sent packing. By the time the expedition reached the beginning of the River of Doubt, all the dead weight had been sent on alternative routes and they were down to 22 men:

  • Roosevelt
  • Kermit (Roosevelt’s son, cool guy)
  • George Cherrie (American naturalist)
  • Col. Rondon (Brazilian leader, famous adventurer)
  • Two other Brazilian leaders/naturalists (one a doctor)
  • 16 local assistants (camaradas)

These 22 men were the heartiest and most important of the expedition but what they had before them seemed insurmountable. Their supplies were running low, they were tired, bugs and wild animals were a constant threat, and they were ill equipped. Despite all the money and planning, they showed up at the mouth of the River of Doubt without a damn boat! They had to buy/trade for seven rickety dugout canoes from the Indians. These dugouts weighed 2,500 lbs each and were far from ideal for navigating a twisting river filled with dangerous rapids. I predict death, and lots of it (I’m writing this as I read it, not afterward).

And there was death, only 19 of the 22 men made it out alive. I figured fewer would make it. It’s pretty unbelievable that this many survived based on the hardship they faced. And you don’t really understand the hardship that they dodged until the end of the book – more on that later.

At one point, Roosevelt is so sick with malaria and fatigue that he declares the following to his son and Cherrie from his deathbed…ahh, I mean, hammock:

“Boys, I realize that some of us are not going to finish this journey. Cherrie, I want you and Kermit to go on. You can get out. I will stop here.

You have to respect that. Roosevelt was, for the most part, giving and respectful of everyone throughout the trip and this declaration was completely in character. But Kermit would have nothing to do with it. According to the book:

Standing next to Roosevelt’s prone, sweat-soaked figure in their dim tent beside the River of Doubt, Kermit met his father’s decision to take his own life with the same quiet strength and determination that the elder Roosevelt had so carefully cultivated and admired in him. This time, however, the result would be different. For the first time in his life, Kermit simply refused to honor his father’s wishes. Whatever it took, whatever the cost, he would not leave without Roosevelt.

There was still a lot of river to paddle and rapids to portage. And a lot of unruly camaradas to deal with. Shortly after the incident, the stress gets so great that one particularly unsavory camarada, Julio, kills another for fear of being outed as a thief (stealing food). Despite his weakened state, Roosevelt is livid and actually hurts himself further trying to engage in the hunt for the perpetrator. The tension comes to a boiling point between Rondon and Roosevelt:

…”Julio has to be tracked, arrested and killed,” Roosevelt barked when he saw Rondon. “In Brazil, that is impossible,” Rondon answered. “When someone commits a crime, he is tried, not murdered.” Roosevelt was not convinced. “He who kills must die,” he said. “That’s the way it is in my country.”

Wow, heavy stuff. They find Julio later, on the banks of the river begging for mercy. But they just pass him by. They later return and try to find him, but they can’t. Certainly the Cinta Larga Indians probably feasted on his innards. The Cinta Larga Indians are what I was referring to when I said that the trip dodged a lot of hardship in retrospect. They did not see any Indians on the whole trip, which is unbelievable because the Cinta Larga were thought to be numerous and hostile. It was always assumed by the river travelers that the Cinta Larga were lurking in the woods, but for some reason, they allowed the expedition to pass through their territory without incident (this may be a quote also).

Eventually, the expedition hits some smooth water and the last part of their trip goes smoothly. It was a long haul. They left New York in October of 1913 and got back to New York in May of 1914. Roosevelt died about 5 years later in January of 1919. Kermit never panned out to be much of anything. He appeared to be destined for great things, but it wasn’t in the cards for him.

It’s really a great story. History buffs will certainly like it. But Millard also expands a lot on the history and culture of the Amazon, Brazil, and the rain forest. It’s a wide-ranging read and I really liked it.

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books

The Blade Itself

Whoa, what a great book. This is the debut novel by an author who lives in Chicago named Marcus Sakey. Not sure how I heard about him, but you can read more about him at his website. It’s a crime thriller set in Chicago and the suburbs. The main character grew up in Bridgeport, lives in Wrigleyville, and works in construction for a developer who lives in Winnetka. Not sure why, but it’s just cool reading stuff that takes place in your city.

So there are two guys, Danny and Evan, who grew together and had a relatively lucrative trade in small-time robbery. That is, until one job goes awry, resulting in Evan getting locked up for seven years and Danny escaping without a scratch (thanks to Evan for keeping his pie hole shut). Danny goes on to live a normal life; he has a decent gig in construction, a nice girlfriend, and plenty of time for leisurely walks through the Lincoln Park Zoo. But it doesn’t last long once Evan gets out of jail and looks for some payback from Danny.

It’s a classic story line, but not tired. One half of the crime duo has a conscience and the other is a cold-blooded murderer. One wants out and the other can’t envision a life without crime. Sakey keeps it fresh by exploring Danny’s internal struggle, taking occasional shots at developers and yuppies, and making the villain really, really evil.

The ending was a little fluffy. I’ll be interested to see what others say about it.

I love the crime novel and I loved this book. Evidently, Ben Affleck also liked it because his production company supposedly bought the rights to the book. Hmmm. Sakey has his second book coming out any day now but I will sit tight for a year until comes out in paperback.

Categories
food

Homemade Pizza Party

I grew up working in my dad’s supermarket. I started sorting 16 ounce returnable bottles at age 12 and worked at the store for the next decade. I was there all through my formative years – after school, on weekends, and during summer and holiday breaks. Today, the thought of going into a Jewel or Dominick’s is repulsive. It’s not that I have a bunch of bad memories, I’m just sick of being inside supermarkets. Just sick of it.

Let me contrast this experience with that of a buddy of mine. He owned his own pizza shop at age 13 and worked in the business during his formative years. I’m talking pizza overload during all of his teenage years. So shouldn’t he be sick of pizza? Shouldn’t he be repulsed every time someone wants order a bunch of pizzas and watch some football? No! And no! In fact, he’s a pizza aficionado. A veritable pizza guru. A pizza Yoda who can actually make a pie levitate.

What do you do when you have this sort of love for pizza? Well, you have all your friends over once a year and make pizzas to order. I was lucky enough to get invited to this private event and I snuck a camera in, hoping that I could learn something. Watch and learn grasshopper.

Use your fingers, don’t use a rolling pin. It’s all about making it round and keeping the air bubbles out.

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In fact, do a fork-tap all over the pie to keep those pesky air bubbles out. That’s caring.

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Since your home oven probably can’t get to 800 degrees, pre-cook the dough for a little just to make sure it’s crispy. Use a pizza peel to move it in and out. Oh yeah, you can just stick your bare hands in the oven (below) if you’re tough enough. If you’re afraid of burning your fingers, well, maybe you should just have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or something.

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Lay out the ingredients and give your friends free reign in choosing the toppings. Hey, it’s your party and their party. It’s everybody’s party. I’ve obscured the faces in the previous and next picture to protect the innocent, of course.

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Here’s what mine and my wife’s looked like. I’m a straight sausage guy, but my wife tosses in a little mushroom and black olive. It’s all good, we’re all happy. No need to fight about what toppings to use because we got plenty to go around.

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Thanks man, the pizza rocked.

Categories
books

Grounds for Golf

This is more than a book about golf architecture, it’s a book about golf in general. Early on, Shackelford captures a trait of the game that is very important to me – the artistry and beauty involved in the field of play. Playing the game allows for a deeper understanding of the artistry because you can actually touch, hear, smell, and experience the work.

Here is how Shackelford puts it:

When you visit a museum and study a Claude Monet painting, it is just you and a security guard and fifteen other tourists trying to enjoy the painting. But say you get that rare moment alone with a masterpiece and you understand what the artist was trying to portray, there is still something that you are unable to experience. You cannot step into the garden that Monet used for his paintings and smell the flowers.

With a golf course you can enjoy the garden from afar and recount memories of playing the course years after you’ve left the grounds, because you were able to step into the landscape and experience it’s architecture.

Shackelford reeled me in and now I’m even a devotee of his blog at geoffshackelford.com. He gets it as far as I’m concerned. They guy posts golf news about four or five times a day on his site.

He goes through all aspects of golf course design in this book and he does it in a very conversational, non-technical, and relaxed style. He breaks it up into 18 manageable holes (chapters), let me talk about a couple.

The Third – Schools of Design

He groups designers into the following categories:

  • The Natural School
  • The Penal School
  • The Strategic School (MacKenzie, Ross, Tillinghast)
  • The Heroic School (Robert Trent Jones)
  • The Freeway School
  • The Framing School

It’s interesting to hear him compare and contrast these design schools. He talks a lot about Pete Dye but never actually classifies Pete in any school. It’s as if Mr. Dye is beyond classification.

The Seventh – The Classic Holes

He goes into four great holes in detail:

  • The Thirteenth at Augusta National
  • The Tenth at Riviera
  • The Road Hole at St. Andrews
  • The Sixteenth at Cypress Point

With each he goes through the strategy, the green complex, the naturalness and artistry of construction, and the playability. I loved the discussion on the Thirteenth at Augusta. That is such an awesome hole and I can’t wait until the 2008 Masters.

It’s a lot of great stuff and if you’re a fan of the game, you should read this book. I haven’t played golf in a few weeks and I won’t play for about another five months, but I can’t wait to put my new eye for design to work.

I do have an issue with Shackelford’s steadfast adoration for all things classic. He’s one of those guys who respects designers that don’t move any dirt. He speaks highly of the classic designers like Ross, MacKenzie, and Tillinghast and also respects current guys like Pete Dye, Tom Doak, and Crenshaw/Coore. He doesn’t speak very highly of Tom Fazio or Rees Jones. His distaste for Tom Fazio is so extensive that he names Fazio’s renovations of Inverness, Merion, and Oak Hill as the Worst Tournament-Influenced Renovations to Great Courses That Should Have Been Left Alone.

Enough already. This love of all things old-school gets tired after awhile. I get sick of hearing how earth moving equipment and club technology are ruining the game. It reminds of baseball fans who complain about the wild card, tennis fans who complain about the lack of serve-and-volley play, or basketball fans who think current players don’t work the ball around. Things change, deal with it.

Hear are some ideas if you don’t like how easy your 6,300 yard Donald Ross course is now that you have a Taylor Made R7 Quad, a hybrid club, perimeter weighted irons, a lob wedge, and a Scotty Cameron putter. Try one of these:

  • Sell your clubs and go back to persimmon woods and blades.
  • Quit the club and join a nice new Nicklaus design with a second tee that runs about 6,600 yards.

Continuing to beat up the old course with all of the new technology while complaining about the state of the game is NOT an option.

Okay, sorry about the rant. I’m still reading your blog Geoff, you go. Great book. I strongly suggest it for avid golfers.

Categories
books

Hawke

It’s been a rough road with fiction lately. The last couple of items were kind of unfulfilling. So I was in the bookstore the other day looking for something cool, something fun, and something with some intelligence. I got in the ballpark with this Ted Bell fellow, but I don’t know if I’ll be back for more anytime soon.

This is the first book for Bell’s character Alex Hawke. Hawke is a Brit adventurer-type who spends most of his time drinking fine wines, traveling the globe on his private yacht, and saving the world from bad guys. He’s a descendant of real pirates so it’s no wonder that he also has a parrot named Sniper that spends a fair amount of time hanging out on his shoulder. Yeah, let’s bring up the Plausibility Continuum.

This is the second book in a row that falls way off the Plausibility Continuum, but I’m not going to beat up Ted Bell. His character Hawke is a little more endearing that Brad Thor’s Scott Harvath.

Let me give you a rundown of the story. I apologize if I sound flip. So Hawke witnesses his parent’s murder at age seven while on a Caribbean boat cruise. The perps were the hermanos de Herrera; three especially surly brothers. Well, fast forward about 30 years to current time where those same three brothers overthrow Castro and take over Cuba, purchase a Russian stealth sub with enough nukes to destroy the world, and plant a biological weapon inside a teddy bear owned by the daughter of the top guy at Guantanamo Bay.

How fitting is it that Hawke not only gets to save the world from these three brothers, but also gets to avenge his parents death? Ummm, very fitting, I guess, in the world of Ted Bell.

It was fun at times, but left me pretty empty. I’m frustrated with the international thriller/terror drama so I don’t know why I keep buying them. I keep thinking I’m going to get a Jason Bourne-style international chase and brawl, but it ain’t happening. Maybe this genre just doesn’t work in writing for me anymore. Maybe I should just rent thriller videos and spend my fictional reading time on mysteries, dramas, satire, and sci-fi. I’m going to think long and hard about this in a few weeks when I do my year end reading review.

Categories
food

The Burrito Bracket

This food blog experience has really opened my eyes to the genius that’s often hiding within regular folks. Take for instance this blog called the Burrito Bracket. It’s done by a resident of Wicker Park who has decided to have a “tournament” pitting 19 top burrito places in the neighborhood against each other.

The championship comes up in a few weeks so you better start paying attention. At this point, there is one more match-up in the Elite Eight before we get down to the final four. Here are the pairings with all of the match-ups and a link to the review.

My favorite post thus far is titled The Burrito Spectrum. The only point of the post was to espouse a certain theory on the burrito, which I found refreshing and informative. This fellow Nate got in my kitchen and really shook things up. He explains the burrito by taking his readers on a trip from the taco to the sandwich. It’s groundbreaking stuff and has given me several new terms that I plan on using in everyday life.

Nate, you rock! Keep it up.

Categories
food

Hecky’s Chicago

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Hecky’s. You’ve seen it. I’m talking about the one at 1234 N. Halsted. It’s integrated with a gas station on a very fluid stretch of Division Street. I’m sure it’s not as charming as the original Hecky’s in Evanston, but it’s all owned by the same legendary ribmaster, Hecky Powell.

What side do you get with your ribs? In somewhat of a deviation from my standard operating procedure, I went with the baked beans (the cole slaw was standard). As you know, I usually pair big chunks of bovine or swine flesh with either a grain or potato. But with ribs it’s just a little different; I don’t feel the need to get a starch in every bite.

So on this fine evening I made a great call, Hecky’s ribs and baked beans did not disappoint. It was good all around – tender ribs and smoky baked beans. There wasn’t any special zing in the sauce, but it was tangy. I’m not necessarily going crazy over these ribs, but I made some errors when ordering so I’m taking responsibility. I should have ordered some extra sauce to help me understand it better and I should have taken a different route on the style choice.

They give you two rib options. One is “classic” and the other is “Chicago style” (I think that’s what they termed them). As the woman behind the counter describes them, Chicago style are a little tougher and stay on the bone a little better. My wife and I opted for the classic because in general we feel that fall-off-the-bone is good. And they were good. But they went a little overboard with the fall-off-the-bone. These things fall off the bone more than any other rib I’ve had in Chicago. In fact, you can’t even pick them up by the bones because the gravitational pull of the earth is too strong for the meat/bone bond.

It really piqued my interest to try the Chicago style. I think I’d definitely like the “tougher“ texture, so I’ll be back soon. Plus, there’s even more reason to be back if you listen to the majority opinion over at the LTH Forum, the fried chicken is supposed to rock (mostly at the Evanston location). As always with the LTH Forum, they denigrate the supposed “fake” Hecky’s that I frequent on Halsted. New and non-traditional usually gets panned. Whatever.

Categories
food

Jupiter Outpost

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I am a breakfast pastry titan. If I were to enter any sort of competitive eating contest (look out Kobayashi!), it would certainly be in the realm of cinnamon rolls, donuts, scones, muffins, or some sort of quick bread. Yeah, I said quick bread. Well, I actually wrote quick bread, I don’t think I’ve ever uttered the words together.

According to Wikipedia, a quick bread uses a chemical leavener such as baking powder as opposed to a leavener like yeast. The chemical leavener makes the quick bread “relatively uniform, reliable, and quick.” Imagine that.

The classic quick bread is banana bread. I ate it sparingly as a kid but lately I’ve developed a special fondness for it. In part because I’ve sampled plenty of the homemade banana bread at the Jupiter Outpost and it’s really good. Check it out above.

It’s usually the same woman working the counter at this warehouse district coffee shop and I think she’s the owner/baker. They have a full boat of coffee and espresso drinks and some breakfast and lunch sandwiches, but I haven’t strayed from the bevy of quick breads and cakes. They’re all baked daily in a kitchen about 15 feet from the counter and there is no doubting the freshness once you sink your teeth into one.

The banana bread is stuffed with fresh bananas and walnuts. Look closely at the picture and you can see that you get some of each in every bite. It’s moist and tasty and perfectly complemented by a cappuccino.

Did I mention that she makes the cappuccino like it should be made. At Starbuck’s, to get a real cappuccino you have to tell them to make it dry or extra dry; if you don’t you get a latte. That’s not the case at the Jupiter Outpost. Her small cappuccino barely fills the cup past half way – foam and all. Now that’s a cappuccino, plenty of espresso flavor with just a little milk and slightly more foam.

It’s a great place. They care about freshness and they respect the roots of good, Italian espresso drinks. The reviews on Yelp are a somewhat mixed. I just like the place and I’m becoming a regular.

Categories
books

Takedown

Trash fiction par excellence, but just a little too far right of the Plausibility Continuum. Surely you realize that I usually don’t have a problem with this because the Lee Child books I read are certainly implausible. The difference is that I’m somewhat committed to Lee Child and his fictional hero Jack Reacher. I started reading Child from book one, but I crashed into the middle of this Brad Thor franchise and it just didn’t work for me.

So al-Qaeda descends on NYC some unspecified number of years after 9/11 and destroys all bridges and tunnels in and out of Manhattan at the start of a beautiful 4th of July weekend. They do so because two of their own are being held captive at some unspecified location in Manhattan and they figure shutting off all manners of ingress or egress will give them ample time to find them.

In this case al-Qaeda has a lot of classified intelligence, but they certainly can’t plan for everything. What they didn’t bank on was special ops guy Scott Harvath (and Department of Homeland Security employee) being in town for some rest and relaxation. Nor did they expect him to be visiting an old special ops buddy of his – who just so happens to be in a psych ward with three other special ops superstars. Oh yeah, one more thing, one of the special ops guys from the psych ward has an arsenal of assault weapons hidden behind the drywall in his apartment, along with plenty of ammo in his freezer. Who woulda’ thunk it?

In yet another wrinkle, the President’s daughter also happens to be in Manhattan for the weekend. Which prompts the President to go on a rant against radical Islamic fundamentalism on national TV.

Fun at times, but manipulative.

Categories
books

Snow

This is the fourth book I’ve read this year that deals, at least in part, with the emotional and psychological toll that the tension between a Muslim state and the West can take on a person. The others were The Kite Runner, Persepolis, and Persepolis 2.

I’m not sure why I’ve read so many books about this lately. I think it helps me frame some similar points of tension here in the US because it takes the clash of liberal/conservative or secular/sacred to the often violent extreme. And the violent extreme is where things certainly went in this book.

This book was written by Orhan Pamuk, a winner of the 2006 Nobel Prize in Literature. Pamuk was born, raised, and still lives in Istanbul, Turkey. The book was, of course, written in Turkish. Historically, I’ve had to labor through translated works of fiction and this was no different. Much of the wry humor goes over my head and I don’t have big chunks of back-story that would help me understand what’s going on. I stayed with it though and it ended up being rewarding.

It’s about a poet/intellectual named Ka who fled Turkey for political exile in Germany for over a decade and now finds himself in a small, isolated town in Turkey called Kars. I’m still not completely sure why Ka went to Kars. I got the feeling deep down that he was in Kars because he was disgruntled with his so-called secular life in Europe, and this trip to Kars gave him a chance to do some soul-searching. To hear Ka tell it, he says that he went there to write an article about young Muslim women who were committing suicide because they were not allowed to wear head scarves. Many in town say that Ka was there because the most beautiful woman in the world and a former acquaintance of Ka’s, Ipek, was there. Whatever the reason, he rolls into town and immediately the whole town begins to take his measure.

I mean the whole town, and some out-of-towners. It’s difficult to keep track of the people he meets and I spent a lot of time confused. I wasn’t ready for the fantastical nature of all the characters. For example, there’s a strange traveling theatre troop that helps stage a coup in town during a massive snow storm, the editor from the local paper writes the news before it happens, and a group of religious high school boys act as counsel and informer to Ka. These are just a few of the quirky characters. Yes, it’s tough to follow!

As the book dragged on, I started to sort the characters out and the last third of the book became easier to follow. Eventually, Ka falls in love with Ipek and hatches a scheme to get her to marry him and move back to Germany so they can watch American movies and eat sausages at the local cafes. But before he can do that, he has to strike a bargain with the leaders of the coup to stay alive. In return, he must broker an agreement between a terror suspect, his lover’s sister, the temporary military junta, and others. As you might expect, no good comes of this and it ends tragically. Ka does not get the girl and he ends up getting shot a few years later in Frankfort.

Just not a lot of fun for the most part. But there is a lot of highly politicized and relevant conversation about Islam, intellectuals, small towns, Europe, Turkey, God, poetry, love, happiness, and personal fulfillment. It was thought provoking, but the development of the plot and main characters confused me. In fact, my level of confusion and disorientation was on par with my reading of Neuromancer, but I liked this book more.