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Over the water
To celebrate Erin’s great news last night, I drove out into a spectacular thunderstorm with nonstop lightning to retrieve tiramisu and a DVD. I returned to the house to find a candlelight picnic on the living room floor, and, basking in the relief of Erin’s passing the bar exam, we drank red wine while watching the Irish musical Once.
Another movie rental from last night, this one for the girls, was Nim’s Island, which Anna and I watched tonight. Erin walked into the room just as a cruise ship with Australian tourists descended upon Nim’s untrampled beach.
“Look familiar?” I asked. Erin laughed.
We were remembering that time we’d traveled by motorboat from Paama across to Epi Island, where the villagers of Lamen Bay had agreed to play host to a visiting cruise ship for the first time. As we sat with our Ni-Vanuatu family and friends, a couple hundred Aussies came ashore to wander the small village, wondering how to purchase with their Australian dollars the woven pandanus mats, carved dugongs and other handicrafts that were valued in vatu, the Vanuatu currency. At noon, the ship’s cooks set out food at the school grounds, and the crew played the locals in a game of soccer.
When that ship departed — they bagged all their garbage and took it with them (though probably dumped it out at sea) — we walked down to Tasso’s guest house and ordered a couple cold Tusker beers.
Erin Shaughnessy Zuiker, Esq.
She did it! Erin passed the NC bar exam, and is set to practice law in this state. Congratulations, my love. I knew you would do it.
BlogTogether Backyard Barbecue, again
The annual BlogTogether Backyard Barbecue is this Saturday, August 23 from 5pm on, at my home in Durham. I’ll provide a cold keg of Carolina Brewery suds, a hot grill and tasty pulled pork barbecue, and a deck perfect for conversing into the night. More details here.
Join us (but let us know you’re coming, please).
Taking stock
One year ago today, I started my job as manager of internal communications at Duke Medicine, a job I’ve poured myself into and enjoyed. To mark the anniversary, I’ll take a break from the dozen projects and deadlines and tasks currently stressing me out so to walk over to the Duke Gardens and sit among the bamboo.
School for the girls starts tomorrow. Erin starts her job in two weeks. BlogTogether conferences and initiatives are languishing. I owe time on a freelance project.
Fortunately, we’re all healthy and well. It’s just that I’m struggling with this complicated life I’ve planned around me.
In the kitchen just now to pour a glass of orange juice and feed the cat, I found a lovely note from Erin reminding me to recapture the relaxation of our Miami Beach vacation.
By the end of day, then, I’ll be in shorts and flip flops, whittling away some of the complications of my to-do list.
Tell me about wine
The quiet house has been getting to me this week — Erin and the girls are still in Cleveland — so I fled the eerie peace last night to see Tell No One, an excellent French murder mystery.
And tonight I went to see Bottle Shock, a dramatic retelling of the 1976 head-to-head blind tasting of French and California wines, in which the Americans shocked the oenophiles. A delightful film, this one.
As I drove home, I remembered the blissful New Zealand spring afternoon when Erin and I stopped our camper van near budding vines and green pastures to have a peaceful lunch and glasses of the wine we’d collected on our tour of the country’s wineries. (I mentioned our favorite in this previous post.)
The house is still quiet, but promises to return to its bustle and hum when my darling little women return this weekend. Travel safely, Erin. I have a bottle of chardonnay chilled for your arrival.
Miami Beach report
Another run along the boardwalk, and weight training in the gym, then a block down Collins Avenue for lunch at a Cuban diner, fried sweet plantains and a papaya shake.
After reading underneath a palm frond umbrella for a few hours, we showered and dressed, then hopped into a cab for a short ride to the Art Deco Hotel Victor, where we made the most of a Miami Spa Month promotion (there’s a similar Miami Spice Month for dinner specials around town.)
“I feel like a shiny new red car,” I told my masseuse, Kelly, during the sea-salt scrub — this after a muscle-melting 30 minutes on the massage table. A few glasses of orange-infused and cucumber-infused water quenched my thirst, and then I hit the steam room to sweat out any remaining hints of stress or worry gathered over the last year.
Upstairs, the Hotel Victor lobby has a tank filled with white undulating jellyfish. (Read this interesting NYTimes article about the decline of the seas leading to a rise in jellyfish.)
Outside, past Gianni Versace’s Casa Causarina mansion (read my previous post about my connection to the first victim in the murder spree that ended with Versace’s death), around the corner, we had an early dinner — turkey burger, Monte Christo, chocolate malt — at the 11th Street Diner.
Walking toward our hotel, we walked up Washington Street, finding our way onto the pedestrian mall, Espanola Way, and immediately getting sucked into the Cavas wine tasting shop. I most enjoyed the Terravid# carmenere and Erath 2006 pinot noir.
All in all, another fine day in Miami Beach.
Miami Beach images
Pictures from our first few days here in Miami Beach:
Up, down and all around South Beach
At Michy’s last night, we mentioned to our waitress, Bonnie, that we were just in town and eager to learn of other good Miami restaurants.
“Hang on,” she said. “I’ll ask David to come and talk with you.”
A few minutes later, David Martinez, co-owner of the restaurant and husband to chef Michelle Bernstein, was tableside, where he spent the next 10 minutes answering our questions and listing off a number of his recommendations for good eating in South Beach.
When I asked him why an out-of-town foodie friend would recommend his restaurant to us, he said only that Michy’s was trying to use local ingredients for fun, fresh tastes. When Martinez walked away, the couple beside us, down from Palm Beach for a return visit to the restaurant to celebrate their 23rd anniversary, told us Martinez was being very modest. (As our meal would attest to so shortly.)
Tonight, we walked down to his suggestion for sushi: Bond St. Lounge, in the basement of the tres cool red-and-white-appointed Townhouse Hotel, where we had the special mango tango spicy tuna roll, Chilean sea bass skewer, goat cheese crab cakes, sesame-crusted shrimp roll, and a few other nagiri choices.
From the Bond Street basement to the rooftop Plunge, a poolside bar atop the Gansevoort South Hotel. Erin and I snuggled in an oversize round ottoman, sipping lychee mojitos and sharing a slice of key lime pie, reveling in our love affair.
Tomorrow, another long walk down to the Art Deco district for cappuccino and breakfast, then back to the beach for more reading. I’m on a jaunt with my friend Scott Huler in his new book, No-Man’s Lands, about Homer’s Odysseus and a journey through the Mediterranean.
12
Law school and the NC bar exam now behind Erin, my first year at Duke nearly done, and our twelfth anniversary coming next weekend, we have decamped to Miami Beach for five days of sun and sand.
Vacation for a workaholic takes a bit to ease into, but after a run along the boardwalk, buffet breakfast, and six hours under a beach umbrella listening to half a dozen European languages being spoken around me, I think I’ve got the hang of it.
Dinner tonight was perfect balance to the day. Erin was simply gorgeous, and we found our way (at the recommendation of Michael Ruhlman) to a great restaurant, Michy’s, named for its talk-of-the-town chef, Michelle Bernstein.
Her menu was fun to peruse, and even better to taste. We had half orders (tapas sized) of the Peruvian-style ceviche (yellow tail, shrimp, bay scallops with corn on the cob, popcorn and toasted corn kernels); summer peach salad (arugula, Maytag blue cheese, crispy smoked bacon, balsamic vinaigrette); white gazpacho (pureed Marcona almonds, grapes, cucumbers); creamy polenta (truffle poached egg, bacon bits, Parmesan cheese); wild sockeye salmon (Spanish garlic almond sauce, pickled garlic, cucumber-grape salad), and snapper Francaise (boniato mash, mojo beurre blanc) and bread pudding for dessert. We very much enjoyed a bottle of Tilenus Pagos de Posada Mencia 2000 Bierzo, and a glass of moscato with dessert.
All in all, a fantastic day.
The storytelling narrative
In Cleveland earlier this week, I met up with Jack Ricchiuto in Tremont late one night. We headed over to the new hot spot, The Tremont Tap House, for beers and conversation.
Jack just finished another book, Instructions from the Cook.
“What are you thinking about now,” I asked him.
“Storytelling,” he said.
At which I launched in on my passions for storytelling: narrative journalism, oral history, storyblogging, The Moth and The Monti. I mentioned Jif Louis singing a kastom song on my last day on Paama.
Jack’s got some good ideas for teaching people to develop a good ear for storytelling. I’ve learned much just from observing how Jack interacts with people, asking small questions that get a person talking, and soon enough, that person’s story emerges.
From my coversation with Jack, I realized that, in developing my mistersugar brand and online identity, I’ve been developing a story that gives context to the brand.
Now, I’m thinking about a story from my Peace Corps days, about a lost dog and a funny parable from my brother Noel about where that dog might have gone. Watch, or listen, for it here soon.
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