history's greatest day: volume 33

I'm not sure if it's mere coincidence, but the greatest day of the year occurred on the same day as it did in 2013, Februrary 27. That's right, it's already come and gone. The rest of 2014 is basically on a downward trajectory; we should all look towards flipping the remnants of this calendar year. And how exactly did Emmelle and I celebrate said day of magnificence? Well, by dining at one of the world's most renown restaurants of course. On the last full (non-travel) day of our recent London-Barcelona-San Sebastian romp, we dined at the famed Arzak. Spoiler alert: It did not disappoint. A great great meal - delicious, fun and memorable. Headed into the meal, I read a Yelp review written by a Korean American about her epicurean experience. Included was a description of her interaction with the owner, Juan Mari Arzak. When she mentioned that she was of Korean decent, he told her that he had one Korean friend, David Chang of Momofuku. After reading that, I became very excited about sharing a similar experience - and fully ready to drop that we were Korean. When our moment came with Arzak, he also inquired about our ethnic background. In response to our Korean heritage, he claimed that he knew the best Korean chef, of course David Chang of Momofuku. It's good to be prepared; we probably had the longest chat with him among non-Spanish/Basque speakers that night. I don't care if he asks this question to every dark haired/small eyed individual that walks into his famed doors; it was pretty cool. Our dinner menu is re-typed below. Fantastic photographic memory? Hardly, they actually gave us personalized printouts of the menu based on our actual selections. For example, it includes the wine that we drank (half bottle of the Roda Reserva 2008) and excludes dishes that we did not choose (simple but terrific nuance to the whole experience). The courses with multiple dishes outside of the first, were basically an "OR" selection. As all couples should, we chose one of each to maximize our sampling. First Jiro's and now Arzak. Honestly, the best establishments in our own backyard seem fairly reasonable (i.e. French Laundry). Thanks for stopping by! Scorpion fish mousse with kataifi Mushroom with nuts and citrus Beans with olives and apple Gilda with carrot and ssamjang Chorizo with tonic ++++++++++ Beet root blood apple Apple injected with beetroot accompanied by creamy foie gras and potato "mother of pearl" Cromlech, manioc and huitlacoche Crispy manioc hydrated with huitlacoche stuffed with a preparation of onion, green tea and foie gras ++++++++++ Lobster "Sea and Garden" Grilled lobster with a crispy star shaped crepe and fresh greens Volcanic oysters Warm oysters over black salt, smoked vegetables and light acid touch ++++++++++ Ovo-lacto Egg with semi crunchy shell and baobab accompanied by "lactic leaves" and curds ++++++++++ Sole with "snow" Sole fillet served with a crust of fermented yucca, mussel and tamarind sauce and its snowman Fish steak with potatoes Fillet of seabass lightly marinated with gin and served with several flavors of potatoes ++++++++++ Wild duck and seeds Roasted duck breast over a selection of dried fruits accompanied by an elaboration of seeds like pumpkin, grape or sunflower Venison with plaster and Jerusalem artichoke Deer and roe deer loin served with roasted and plastered Jerusalem artichoke, fried chestnuts and their juice ++++++++++ The Big Truffle Largue cocoa and sugar truffle with a creamy chocolate and carob filling The Circus: Diabolo and Calamansi Under the tent of a circus, diabolos soaked in calamondin with chocolate, carrot ice cream "melted" and piece of colored clay ++++++++++ Acai granita Bitter almond ice cream "sauced" with acai and fruit ice Suspension jelly Roasted and smoked pineapple with vanilla covered with cloche and suspension jelly set with carrot and orange

adult orthodontics

I’ve had braces for over six months. Scratch that. They are not braces; the American Association of Orthodontics officially recognizes my mouth wear as adult orthodontics. There’s nothing wrong with having ADULT orthodontics as a thirty-something year old ADULT, absolutely nothing. However, for the purposes of brevity, I’ll be referring to my adult orthodontics as “braces” for the remainder of this post. But keep in mind they are adult orthodontics through and through. I’ll quickly explain the difference to the uninformed (you). Braces are for children and teens. Adult orthodontics are for adults. Get it? THEY OBVIOUSLY COULDN’T BE MORE DISSIMILAR. Six months into my plight, I am a little astonished that I have not documented the early stages of my shiny oral accessories. Perhaps a six month check-in is appropriate - not much changes during this process. I know, I've stared at my teeth in the mirror for minutes and minutes at a time, hoping to identify some positive movement. Foolish - it's like trying to catch glaciers move. Speaking of glacier, due to the sheer size of my chompers, I was ineligible for Invisalign. I am going hard core. Firstly, the why. Why go through the two-year trauma now? I've honestly asked myself this question for what seems to be about a decade. I don't mean to give away too many deep thoughts within the pages of GreensandBrowns, but I will admit that my teeth have been a source of occasional insecurity throughout my adult life. (Woah, let's back this mack truck of a blog post up for one second. When I refer to "insecurity", it is intended to explain the slightest of the slights. The minorest of minors. I'm sure there are days George Clooney looks at himself in the mirror and ponders, "Am I too handsome? How worrisome..." This is the type of insecurity I refer to.) Thus, with (hopefully) more than half of the rest of my life to live, I concluded that a little vanity detour to correct a petty imperfection wouldn't be the worst thing in the world (more on the worst thing in the world in a future blog post). Onward. I initially had four teeth extracted, the vacant lots in my gums to be inhabited by some of my favorite "big boned" toothses. To start, I wore braces on my molars for five and a half months. I don’t remember too much from the day my orthodontist faceted my teeth with my new metal friends. "Unleash the brackets!" (supposed to be said like "Unleash the kraken!") I do recall however being lifted from my chair and gazing into the mirror at a robot. I looked like half-machine with all of the intricate metal work seemingly growing out of my teeth. But still, these guys rented out space in the very back - I practiced how to speak, how to smile, how to walk the dog with minimal visibility into the real-time reconstruction occurring inside my mouth. I fairly quickly (and heroically) adapted to the dull pain. Chewing, digesting and dislodging semi-masticated food from my gums and braces were an on-going issue. Nevertheless, all of these discomforts were acceptable. Nobody could see the Sims-like city planning within the confines of my mouth. Great! And then the other shoe dropped (that's an idiom folksy folks use when something is going alright, but all the while, you are anticipating that all of that "alright" is going to even out with some "alwrong" or "alleft"). My left shoe dropped about four weeks ago, a one-hour glue session that will terrorize the next 18 months of my life. I am now full cyborg, full brackets across both of my top and bottom teeth. The pain ever greater and at times throbbing, the chewing even more complicated, the cuts in my mouth more frequent. And that's obviously not the worst part, I can't conceal them anymore, my metal frenemies totally visible for all to see (relish).  One month in, I'm finally getting to a point of indifference. But one (I) constantly runs into friends and casual acquaintances that one (I) has not seen in many months. I've deduced that a proactive explanation facilitates the smoothest interaction. Otherwise, this public service announcement becomes tiresomely applicable: I'd like to remind you that my eyes are up here, buddy. I'm certain that you aren't listening to me at all. Dear friend, family member, colleague and/or wife, you are not subtle with your ancillary gaze at my metal monstrosity. My braces are most decidedly not a pair of fleshy bosoms to be ogled. Cue the NBC ringtone...The more you know. More in six months. Thanks for stopping by.

pain revisited

I'm sitting in front of the television the morning before Super Bowl XLVIII (48) and thought this might be an appropriate time to briefly reminisce about the season-that-was for my dear San Francisco 49ers and once again, what-could-have-been as far as a spring and summer of celebrating as the top dog in the football world. And amazingly, their season once again abruptly and painfully ended with a missed opportunity to Michael Crabtree in the right corner of the end zone. While this year’s season ended one game short of the Super Bowl, I definitely felt a greater amount of pain with this one – the kind of pain I endured as a teen watching the Niners bow out of the playoffs over and over again to the Cowboys and Packers. There are the obvious reasons: missed opportunity for the final destination, playing against and ultimately losing to your rival, second guessing a risky play when more chances were available. Again, those are the obvious reasons. Thinking about it this morning, two weeks removed from the horror, my thoughts have crystallized a bit. Last year, there was zero doubt in my mind that Year Two of the Jim Harbaugh era would conclude with a celebratory hoisting of the Lombardi trophy. There was no way they were losing to that Baltimore Ravens team. But the game happened, they went down big (“WHAT?”), they came all the way back (“OF COURSE!”), the win was in the bag, the ball sailed past Crabtree’s outstretched hands…and the game was over. Poof. Over. Done. The ending happened so suddenly, even now, I’m not quite sure I’ve experienced the burden of the thing as a fan. Even that short blog post from last year – I just don’t have much to say about it. It just ended. So in contrast – the 49ers at the Seahawks. I languished this possibility for the entire year, I watched hours of Seattle football games hoping in vain for losses. I talked with friends repeatedly that the Seahawks wouldn’t lose with home field advantage, all of it was mental preparation for the inevitable. Not only did it play out as intended, the trail cruelly seeded tangible glimmers of hope for a different ending. And this one, it lingers. It didn’t simply end. The whole season keeps playing over in my mind. The “what ifs” and “if this”…And I absolutely loved this team, one of my all-time favorites, a 6-4 team that ran the table to finish 12-4 with impressive road playoff wins in Green Bay and Carolina. Even with (knock on wood) Super Bowl victories in the future, I’ll always remember this one. Thanks for stopping by.