Cabo Day 2: Getting to Know You

Posted on October 14, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

We had most of Monday to just hang out, see the town, and get to know each other. Carol and I took a taxi into town for breakfast. First I tried Mama’s Royale Café, which was supposed to have the breakfast in town. The taxi driver waved at the locked gate; they were closed. So I tried asking for another place, Felix’s and the taxi driver just waved at the same place. I looked at the signs. Mama and Felix had a very close relationship. Undaunted, I tried door #3 – Pancho’s, and thank goodness they were open. Pancho’s was on my “margarita list” not my “huevos list” and it was way too early for margaritas.

In spite of the super “Mexican fiesta” theme party decor, and the fact that they are known for their tequila, Pancho’s made the best chilaquiles I have ever eaten, bar none. Oh my God, I just want to climb up to the computer and lick this picture.

We wandered through the town, and I bought vanilla. Ever since I was a little girl, we never left TJ without a giant bottle of Mexican vanilla. We looked in trinket shops, and I fell back into bartering so easily it surprised me.

We wandered around the touristy harbor, and I paid a guy a few bucks to take the stupidest sucker photo ever, but I have come to love this picture of the iguana in a sombrero so much I put it on my new business cards. It may be the greatest picture I have ever taken. Of course, just as I’m being a total dork photographing an iguana stereotype we run into Rachel and Chris – small town. Chris and I toyed with the idea of buying tiny sombreros for the sea turtles to disguise them from predators.

Carol and I went to stare at the Dolphin Adventure and try to decide if we wanted to swim with dolphins or not. It looked kind of sad and really silly, plus you can’t take pictures. You have to buy their pictures. It was also a 3 hour ordeal. I knew I wasn’t allowed to take pictures, but as we were walking down the stairs after deciding against getting attacked by dolphins, I noticed the way the water flowed off of the tank and took a picture of that.

I was technically outside of the aquarium area. I was technically not photographing any aquatic mammals. So I wasn’t really breaking any rules. But the hand of fate disagreed and slapped me down. I totally fell down the stairs. I hate falling down the stairs. What I hate even worse is the aftermath of falling down the stairs, when people rush over and try to coddle me. I don’t care if I break my leg clean off, I refuse to show any pain and just want to pretend I’m fine and make the people go away. That macho attitude once made me walk for 2 hours on torn ligaments in New Orleans until my ankle was the size of a softball.

This injury was a little less severe

The pool had a swim-up bar, so we met our fellow travelers there for lunch and disproved the 1-hour swimming rule. I had a well-seasoned pounded steak sandwich. I don’t know the cut, but was much more tender than carne asada. Resort bars aren’t usually known for their food, but this place was fantastic – even their french fries were killer. It was hot as hell outside, and it was such a luxury to dine while up to our chests in cool water.

The palapa was the main feature of the swimming area

from inside it looked like a giant straw hat

Around 4 o’clock, we were picked up in vans for a long night at the ranch. It was beautiful.

There was a guest house next to an arroyo where Rene said they do a lot of bird-watching.

The Arroyo was kind of scary deep. Of course Lisa fearlessly sat right on the edge.

The main building was just steps away from the beach.


And then the fun really began…

Posted in Cabo | 2 Comments

Pasta alla Tesoro

Posted on October 12, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

We will return to our regularly scheduled turtle programming in a moment, but first, this delicious recipe!

Now that Autumn is here, it seemed like time to play with some new flavors and add a little spice after summer’s lightness. It may still need to be played with a little. I am also thinking that the flavors would work nicely as a ravioli filling.

PASTA ALLA TESORO

1 Tablespoon butter
1 Tablespoon olive oil
3 ounces pancetta, chopped fine
10 fresh sage leaves, chopped fine
1 pound chicken breast, cut into 1″ cubes
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 Tablespoons flour
1/2 cup champagne
3/4 cup chicken broth
1 cup heavy cream
1 Tablespoon Brandy
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and white pepper to taste
1 (16-ounce) package linguine

Set a large pot of water on the stove to boil.

In a large pan, melt together butter and olive oil. Toss in pancetta and sage, stirring to break up the pancetta. When browned, remove pancetta and sage with a slotted spoon and set aside.

Add chicken to the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until chicken is lightly browned and no longer pink in the middle. Add garlic for the last few minutes. Remove chicken and set aside.

Slowly sprinkle flour into the oil in the pan, whisking constantly. Stir for about a minute, then slowly begin whisking in liquids.

Add spices and let cook, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Add pancetta, sage and chicken back to the pan and heat through. Adjust spices.

Boil the pasta according to package directions, and toss with sauce.

Enjoy!

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Cabo Day 1: Two Tickets to Paradise

Posted on October 11, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

The flight into Cabo was barely 2 hours, and pretty cheap. In spite of its proximity, visions of drunken frat boys on Spring Break benders have always kept me away. An invitation from ASUPMATOMA, a group that rescues baby sea turtles, gave me faith that more is happening in Baja than guys in sombreros pouring tequila in your mouth and spinning you around.

Upon arriving at the airport, I had some trouble finding my ride. I finally found Pepe, and together we hunted down Carol, a fellow journalist. Carol is easygoing and quick to laugh. But she is still a New Yorker; so there is a sense that when it comes down to it, she can handle whatever comes her way. I took a liking to her immediately.

Pepe, our driver

On the ride down, I asked Pepe if he wouldn’t mind stopping at a taqueria. I was famished. It was definitely “authentic”. The horchata was cold, and the fish tacos, made from pargo, a red snapper, were delicious. They only use one tortilla, not the double-tortilla common to Los Angeles taquerias.

Total Suicide Food

It was about a 20-minute drive from the airport, barring any emergency taco stops

Waiting for us at the hotel was Rachel, our PR contact. She definitely kept everything running smoothly. The pool was gorgeous ! Our rooms were gorgeous ! Definitely stay at La Finisterra if you are heading to Cabo.

The view from my balcony

There were hawks flying around at eye level

Oh, they do have the world’s biggest moths in Baja. Unless this was a baby hawk or another hallucination. (I imagine Hunter S Thompson attacking it with a tennis racket) This here’s bat country!

On our first evening out, our host, Rene, invited us out for dinner. He had an air of old world courtliness about him. He holds himself proudly, like a matador. He was accompanied by Elizabeth, the group’s Biologist, who was monolingual, and unfortunately I speak very little Spanish – very badly. I speak just enough to order food, find the bathroom, and start a fight. Definitely not enough to discuss anything scientific. But Elizabeth was good-natured and seemed to find us amusing.

Everyone was discussing wine. I think no one wanted to be the first one to drink alcohol – or up the host’s bill. I finally broke down and admitted I could use a beer. Rene perked up and asked if we’d like to try beer a different way, so a few more people joined in.

They squeezed 2 or 3 limes in a glass, added a little salt, a little sparkling water, and then a Bohemia. It was a little like a shandy, or a beer mojito.

Carol and I soon discovered we made a good team, because I am a compulsive talker, and she is a compulsive note-taker. It is hard to do both and eat a meal at the same time.

I was seated across from Lisa, who is that person you dream about becoming when you grow up. Years of working with National Geographic have given her James Bond-like experiences few of us will ever experience. Her opening sentence might be, “When you are in zero gravity…” or “Walking along the bottom of the sea…” But she is as matter-of-fact about it as you or I would be recounting the plot of a movie we just saw. There is no braggadoccio, only a vague sense of wonder.

The restaurant, Romeo and Juliet, was mid-scale Italian. The atmosphere was warm and slightly romantic, but the menu was not too pricy. There were no Mexican-Italian “fusion” dishes which would have fascinated me – just straight-up Italian. The Caesar salad was intense but delicious. It was invented in Baja, after all.

My gnocchi was heavenly

I tried a bite of “fileto pesce a la mugnaia” fish in a white wine and lemon caper butter sauce with olives, which was delicious.

Chris, who is Rachel’s husband, offered me a bite of his lasagne and I think he scored. That was the best damned lasagne. It was all meat, no ricotta or white sauce, and handmade pasta. It might even be better than mine, and I make a mean lasagne.

During dinner, the bulk of the conversation involved turtles, naturally. Rene explained that when the turtles lay their eggs they go into a trance and don’t even know you are there. He said in general the turtles were tranquilo and he almost wished they were a little more aggressive.

In the first of many inappropriate and unusual outbursts, I exclaimed, “We could train them!”
Chris said, “We could fit them with laser beams!” and I knew I had a partner in my insanity.
I said, “We could attach jet packs so they could fly, and with the lasers, hell, they’d be like Gamera!

After awhile conversation led to the enormous size of some of the turtles. The elusive leatherback can grow to the size of a VW bug. I blurted, “Can I ride one? Oh my God! I want to ride one! That is totally going on my bucket list.”
Chris laughed at me, “Bucket list!”

We received a lesson in the correct pronunciation of ASUPMATOMA. I confessed that I kept thinking of it as “Asuptomania”. Chris said he just calls it “Hakuna Matata”.

The dessert tray was too tempting to pass up, but nobody wanted to be responsible for actually ordering dessert. So I ordered a Tres Leches and a bunch of forks, and Lisa followed up with an order of chocolate flan for the table. Tres Leches is one of those dishes with a short window. If it doesn’t sit long enough the cake isn’t saturated – too long, and it gets mushy very quickly. This restaurant had it just right, and the cake was pure heaven. It was finished with a little swirl of mango and another of raspberry coulis.

Later, when a small group of us were discussing the “Dolphin Adventure” in Cabo, and the morality of swimming with captive dolphins, someone said, “I heard they don’t like it. I heard they (pause) bite you.”
Chris said, “They do worse than that.”
I knew what everyone was dancing around, so in spite of being completely sober I said, “I heard they try to “force themselves” on you.”
Chris said, “Umm, yeah. That.”
I said, “That’s OK. Being assaulted by a dolphin is also on my bucket list.”

Is this the sign for the bathroom?

I was secretly relieved that there were a few people with my terrible sense of humor. But in spite of the randy banter, it was a pleasant and relaxed evening, and we couldn’t have hoped for nicer hosts or better ambiance. Back at the hotel I explored a little bit.

I sat up on the hill overlooking the city drinking a margarita on the rocks.

a stray cat jumped into my lap. I sat there petting it, looking at the city lights and felt more content than I had in a very long time. Then something spooked the cat and it ran off, knocking over my margarita.

I grabbed my swimsuit and headed for the beautiful pool.

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Papa, No Come las tortugas!

Posted on October 10, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Some of the press releases I receive are very useful, and some are kind of random. I received an announcement at some point that the baby sea turtles were starting to hatch in Baja. Very adorable, but Baja’s not my beat, so I let it go.

A month ago I received another baby sea turtle email announcing that there were still vacancies for the press junket. I read it again. Yes, this definitely looked like an invitation. My blog may be LA-centric, but it also reports on tecchie news and is super-green. Luckily, I had already taken the week off for a workshop. Hmmm, saving baby sea turtles in Cabo vs. staring at hypnotic hotel meeting room carpets? No contest!

But who were these people? Was it all a ruse to kidnap me and sell my kidneys on the black market? I checked them out, and ASUPMATOMA sure looked legit.

The Association for the Protection of the Environment and the Marine Turtle in Southern Baja (ASUPMATOMA) is a non-profit organization dedicated to the protection of the endangered sea turtles of Baja California Sur, Mexico, and the overall environmental sustainability of Los Cabos’ beautiful beaches, lands and surrounding communities.

ASUPMATOMA was founded more than 18 years ago by René Pinal, a prominent real estate investor and conservationist in Cabo San Lucas, along with a team of biologists and local residents to address the pressing environmental issues facing Los Cabos. In particular, the organization is a leading worldwide advocate of the preservation of the endangered sea turtles, which are now at risk of destruction in the Sea of Cortez region due to rapid land development, pollution, and illegal hunting and fishing practices.

For nearly two decades, at Pinal’s Rancho Punta San Cristobal estate, a three-and-a-half-mile stretch of environmentally protected beaches and lands (located along the Pacific Coast of Baja approx. 15 minutes north of Cabo San Lucas), ASUPMATOMA has saved tens of thousands of sea turtles in the wild and hundreds of thousands of baby sea turtle hatchlings along the beaches of Los Cabos. In addition, Pinal’s natural lands protect more than 17 other species in the area, some which are also endangered.

In the 80s I spent time in Baja with Linda and D Boone, who LOVED sea turtle tacos. Luckily, I had not yet developed an adventurous palate, so I didn’t have to deal with any guilt on this trip. OK, I ate Turtle Soup once at Commander’s Palace. But who knows what kind of turtle it was? Definitely not one as adorable as these! (I am reminded of the little girls on “Kid Nation” who would only allow the “ugly chickens” to be sacrificed for soup).

The consumption of sea turtle meat and eggs has been illegal in Mexico for over 20 years now, but poachers still supply a thriving black market. One nest can yield 200-dollars worth of eggs, a lot of money in an impoverished country. To address this issue, ASUPMATOMA has a special program for children called, “Papa, no come las tortugas!”
Daddy, Don’t Eat the Sea Turtles!

Daddy, Don’t Eat the Sea Turtles is an environmental program created to educate and raise public awareness about the endangered sea turtles and environment, and in particular, encourage the citizens of Los Cabos, and throughout Mexico, to stop the consumption of eggs and meat of sea turtles which is still considered a delicacy.

OK, so no eating sea turtles. But I hear they do make ant egg tacos in that part of the country. Cabo, here I come!

Posted in Cabo | 2 Comments

Blogging’s Dirty Little Secret

Posted on October 8, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Tony Pierce is both a madman and a genius. He is one of the most inspirational people I have ever met. Should he really apply himself, I suspect he could found his own religious cult. He is also the best mentor a new blogger could have had. A year and a half ago, he encouraged me to write.

I fretted, “I don’t have mainstream tastes. What if the readers don’t like what I like?” Tony insisted, “It’s your job to tell them what they’re supposed to like.”

Apparently the PR people also believe that is our divine purpose. So along with the satisfaction of an audience for our rants, bloggers sometimes get little perks. PR companies are happy to send along product samples and press releases.

So here it is – my dirty little secret, the magic and the wonder that is blogging. Today it actually happened.

I got beer in the mail.

A six-pack of beer. From DHL. Life is good.

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Rock the Crockpot!

Posted on October 8, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Our generation was never quite as obsessed with kitchen gadgetry as our parents were. Most people never seem to venture beyond a blender and a George Foreman Grill. After all, Margaritas and paninis can get you through your 20s just fine.

But maybe you are starting to get a little more excited by all of that shiny, shiny, chrome in the back aisle of Crate and Barrel.

One standard in your parent’s pantry is the good old crockpot. Don’t allow a few bland dinners of bygone days to tarnish its memory. This is a magic machine. It cooks while keeping the house cool on the warmest of days — we’re all a little tired of salads by now, aren’t we? And as the temperature drops, it is the perfect way to make the homey soups and stews of Autumn. You can even ignore it and it won’t burn the house down. I can’t even say that about a human child.

It’s still not quite soup weather, and a human child should never, ever be put in a crockpot, not even during Hide and Seek. So what’s cooking? How about a badass pulled pork sandwich from our neighbors in Tennessee?

Pulled Pork

3 to 4 pounds pork shoulder roast, boneless
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup white vinegar
1 chopped onion
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon Tabasco or similar hot pepper sauce
1 Tablespoon molasses
¼ cup brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
¼ tsp dry mustard
1 cup ketchup
1/2 lemon, juiced

Throw all of this stuff in the crockpot, turn it on low, and give it a stir. You might want to add a little apple juice or water to cover the meat.

Now go master Guitar Hero, Twitter, get a hip hairstyle, hey, maybe go out and work all day. Whatever. The crockpot doesn’t give a damn what you do. Just go away for about 6 to 8 hours. The crockpot needs its alone time.

Shred the pork using 2 forks in a barbarian tearing motion. Toss the fat and bone if you find any. Serve with:

Hamburger buns
A little BBQ sauce (We like Sweet Baby Rays, ourselves)
Coleslaw. (Yes, On the sandwich. That’s right. Just do it. It will all make sense in a minute.)

Posted in Recipes | 6 Comments

LA Chocolate Salon Gives us Frizzy Perms

Posted on October 7, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

When Lindsay was invited to judge The Los Angeles Luxury Chocolate Salon, we imagined chaise lounges and champagne. Unfortunately, it was more like matriculating at your local junior college. The judges were given the impression it was a competition, the chocolatiers were given the impression it was a trade show, and the 20-dollar-a-head guests were given the impression it was an all-you-can-eat chocolate orgy.

Most of the tables had chopped samples up into itsy-bitsy powdery flakes that melted in your hands, not in your mouth. Lindsay, as an official judge, still had to practically beg for samples to judge.

We were glad to see Caroline on Crack, This Delicious Life, E*starLA, and a few other bloggers there. Traditionally loners, bloggers are really fun and kind of scary when we travel in packs.

My two favorites of the day were:

The Ginger English Toffee, an unexpected pairing, from Valerie Confections. The chocolate was smooth and silky on the tongue. The boxes were also tasteful and elegant. Lindsay loved their salted and orange toffees.

The most exciting offering was from Chuao, WOW! Their firecracker chocolates burst on the tongue with a deep chocolate and chipotle, combined with the light crunch of a wafer and a sparking surprise. It IS like celebrating 4th of July – in your MOUTH!

Their new ChocoPods had unusual, yes, pod-shaped chocolates filled with delicious banana goo.

My main photo card went missing, so I’m short on pictures. I will do my best to give you the flavor of the event. I will have to borrow a photo of the trippy rainbow chocolate man from TheFost on Flickr. Let your freak flag fly!

Although Chocolatique had lovely boxed confectionaries, with some truly exciting flavors, the real stars were the chocolate-drizzled nuts.

Screw gingerbread!

The salesman at Vermeer was not only nice enough to give us cool, refreshing shots, but little airline bottles of the chocolate liquer as well. A little less coffee-flavored, and a little more chocolatey than Kahlua, you can down an airline bottle with a xanax and blow that PMS out of the water.

Christopher Michael Chocolates, home of “The Cacao Bar” was having PTSD from what must have been wild hordes of clawing, clutching women devouring all of his chocolate. he had no idea why Lindsay wanted his chocolate. He had no idea it was a competition. He had no idea when the Viet Cong’s choppers were landing to attack. I tried a “mojito” that was pretty good, but was so heavily airbrushed with silvery-green paint it looked like I’d just blown Godzilla. The “Lemongrass” tasted like green tea and vomit. So maybe those flavors got mixed up.

Sacred Chocolates had a trippy mushroom flavor that would only have been good if it had contained hallucinogens. But I did like the Hibiscus Chai. This butterfly lady and trippy Willy Wonka hat guy started making out heavily as Caroline approached their table, so she passed on that one.

Sunfood Nutrition offered whole cacao beans and goji berries for making your own trail mix. So they took the hippie crown away from the Cosmic table. The whole raw chocolate was kind of cool, and the people were super groovy, naturally.

Amano had a lot to teach us about chocolate making. But the speakers had been droning on the loudspeaker all day, and if I heard the word “cacao” one more time I was going to scream. So let’s just wait and let Lindsay interview them at a later date.

Rushburn offered old-school toffee and super-excellent customer service.

The San Francisco Toffee Company had a white chocolate toffee that was a nice change of pace.

The Chocolate Traveler had cool packaging and interesting gift ideas, but their table was too crowded for me to check out. It was a favorite amongst the kids and I couldn’t penetrate the swarm.

Marti Chocolates had the most exotic selection by far. It was exciting to try Durian. Totally worth it. But the goat cheese chocolate? Oh my God, I felt like my mouth had been assaulted! Somebody call the police! This chocolate is a felony!!!

Links to Chocolate Purveyers

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Festival Fun!

Posted on September 30, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

OK, Had enough of Alaska? Besides being a travelin’ kind of summer, it was also one filled with fairs and festivals. Here are links to some of my other posts. I just can’t deal with all of the photo uploading. It doesn’t mean I love you any less. I love all of my blogs exactly the same.

Brew Ha Ha!

What’s Frying at the LA County Fair

Red Hot @ Red Seven

Red Hot @ Red Seven Part 2

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Day 13: Talkeetna and Anchorage or Bust!

Posted on August 29, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Our last full day in Alaska. Le Sigh. When I woke up, I almost forgot what state I was in. So thank God there was this lamp there to remind me.

And this chair.

And this other lamp.

Secure in the knowledge that I was indeed in Alaska, I packed up and headed for the shuttle. We spent the morning in Talkeetna, my favorite city. For breakfast I hit the Roadhouse, which is famous for – 14-inch pancakes! Yes! Someone is actually going to outdo that size queen The Elbow Room.

Speaking of elbows, I didn’t have a measuring tape on me, and this one, although huge, just didn’t FEEL like 14 inches to me. So I measured it using my arm, and it was exactly pinkie finger to elbow, which for some reason I know is just over 14 inches. So there you go, let me know when one of you tops that and I’ll be on my way!

This blueberry monster was delicious – a little more eggy, like a crepe, perhaps with a little melted butter in the batter. So if it’s thickness that counts, well, we’re back to The Elbow Room.

Someone else from our pod teasingly asked me to photograph his food, so here is random guy’s reindeer meatball sandwich.

While I was enjoying my giant pancake, Ralph ate a sausage from some hooved animal that we hadn’t covered yet from this stand. He said it was delicious.

This is where President Warren G Harding stayed in 1923 when he went to Alaska to hammer in the Golden Spike. He had the nerve to room both his wife and mistress here at the same hotel. He died of poisoning in San Francisco less than a week later, causing some people to blame the hotel’s seafood. But it is interesting that no one else in the party got poisoned except for the guy who brought his mistress.

I am going to miss Talkeetna, with its quirkiness and gigantic flowers.

Someone has evidently figured out how to tolerate the “Watneys Red Barrel” bus tours

With a perfectly clear sky, it suddenly started raining on us at the train station. Very Charlie Brown-esque.

As the train pulled out, we were instructed to look back for one last view of Denali. Now, everyone had been making this BFD out of the mountain for days, as it played hide and seek. Tour guide after tour guide pointed out, “Look, you can see just the peak… just there …to the right …” All I ever saw were clouds.

There was even a Mount McKinley/Denali watch, where you could instruct the front desk to call you if the fickle mountain showed itself. So as I turned back, it was with great sangfroid. Then, peeking out of the clouds – wait, those aren’t clouds. For a week, I had gotten used to the mountain line being fairly stable, like the horizon. Denali was like the giant grandpa looming over the rest, shrinking them to the treeline. Now I see what the fuss is about!

A sun dog

Once again, the food on the train was delicious, with the exception of the ribs. I don’t recommend them. This is a very nice fish chowder.

After a week of breathtaking coastline and a second week of trees, trees, trees, it was a bit of a culture shock to arrive in Anchorage with its square geometry and block-like buildings. I can see why some people “go bamboo” and head back to the wilderness, never to return to city life.

I walked over to Glacier Brewhouse for a light dinner before turning in at the very strange Captain Kidd Hotel. Or was it Captain Hook? Captain Morgan?

From Glacier Brewhouse’s website:

C A S K C O N D I T I O N E D A L E S *
Our cask conditioned ales undergo a secondary fermentation in the cask which creates a natural creamy carbonation. Additional hops are added directly into the cask to provide intense floral, citrus, and fruity aromas and flavors. Served from our beer engine at a traditional cask temperature of 52 F. We aim to always have a cask beer available. Frequently appearing styles on our beer engines are Amber, IPA, Stout, and other seasonal ales. Occasionally, we even run an oak aged ale on cask

Along with an order of delicious fish and chips *where are the chips??? Never mind, the fish was lovely), I enjoyed another Ice Axe, in one of only 2 restaurants that serve it (the other being at the base of Denali). They serve it in a snifter here since it has such a high alcohol content.

IMPERIAL BLONDE, aka ICE AXE ALE *
High alcohol, slightly malty, creamy, and smooth drinking. Technically dubbed the Imperial Blonde by the brewers, this light colored honey ale is also known as Ice Axe Ale. Make sure you are roped in for this one. Served in a snifter. 9.0% alcohol by volume.

I will end this long series of posts as our naturalist on the cruise did so poetically, if a bit melodramatically

…and these…are the echoes…of Alaska

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Day 12 Denali Alaska The goddess of the log

Posted on August 26, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

The next day I took the shuttle into Talkeetna, the base for climbers up Mount McKinley (Denali). It is a laid-back town full of artists and outdoors types. It is the place I felt most at home in Alaska. This town was also the inspiration for the TV show Northern Exposure, although it wasn’t shot there.

I ate breakfast/lunch at Mountain High Pizza Pie, which was to become my home away from home. Very cool, friendly vibe, lots of beer on tap, and some of the best food I ate this entire trip. Definitely a true Roadfood establishment.

One of their signature dishes is the Italian flatbread sandwich, which is made from their own dough and unlike anything I have ever tried before. This one is stuffed with delicious reindeer sausage.

They have loads of interesting pizza toppings, and you can make your own slice (which is so big it is really two slices). I went for Italian sausage, banana peppers and mushrooms. Swoon.

I wandered down to the river and happened upon a fallen log that fascinated me. A couple of girls were posing on it, and we started trading cameras, trying to come up with the best poses.

Of course, men just naturally know how to pose like they’re on the cover of GQ

I found a .45 jacket and one of the campers said they thought they had heard firecrackers on the beach the night before, but apparently it was gunshots. I didn’t see any aluminum cans or broken bottles. What the hell were they shooting at? Salmon? (Because if I were really drunk, the salmon were jumping, and I had a .45 in my hand – well, the thought might cross my mind). But it was dark at the time, and salmon were no longer jumping. Someone offered helpfully, “Moose? It is moose season.” Who the hell shoots moose with a .45? It’s a mystery.

For dinner I met up with my travel partners at West Rib.

Glacier Brewing Company makes a special high-test brew especially for West Rib called Ice Axe Ale.

You can also order “fat ass sauce” for your burgers – a combination of sour cream, bacon and jalapenos. I’m not sure it was the perfect topping for burgers, but may strongly influence my dip-making this coming holiday season.

Ralph got a surf and turf and immediately fell in love with the strong spices on the crab. The caribou was OK, but none of us will be rushing off to buy sides of caribou anytime soon.

I wandered around town taking pictures of giant flowers, then met up with my friends from the beach for beers at Mountain High.

There was a spectacular rainstorm, like nature showing off. It reminded me of the end of The Tiki Room when our sounds of merriment have angered the gods. After about 15 minutes, it calmed down and the sun came back out. It’s confusing in Alaska because the sun is still up, and you want to hang out and party, but things still close down just like everywhere else.

The last shuttle back to the lodge was leaving town at 9:30pm and I had to be on it. I called the lodge to see if there was an alternative, and the desk clerk told me that the driver had my name and would not leave without me. There was no way I could just stay in town and get drunk. Costco holidays are great people to entrust your senile aunt to, because you can’t even get into trouble when you are genuinely trying.

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Day 11 On the Road to Talkeetna

Posted on August 26, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Day 11 we woke up in Denali State Park, and Ralph and Mary Anne set off on their white water rafting adventure. It was tempting, but I didn’t want to be a 3rd wheel and I think I prefer warmer waters – like the Colorado River. We met for breakfast (mine)/lunch (theirs) at the Salmon Bake since it had proved so successful the day before. If I stayed there for a week, I would probably still hang at the Salmon Bake every day.

I had reindeer or buffalo chili for breakfast – I had gotten to the point where it didn’t really matter what creature I was eating. I mean, as long as it wasn’t human. You never know with these mountain climber types.

I sampled my mom’s fish and chips, which were totally killer.

But the pride of Salmon Bake may be their fruit pies. Sadly, they don’t have ice cream. but pie this good has the confidence to stand alone. Ralph and Mary Anne split mixed berry.

Mom and I went for blueberry. Niced thick crust without being heavy, just slightly sweet, surrounding super-ripe and sweet blueberries.

I had tried to avoid the nightmare “Watney’s Red Barrel” coach trip, but soon we were lined up for the bus to take us on to the next lodge, outside of Talkeetna. The aisles were narrow, and everyone was pushing and shoving. I was trying to fit my bag under the seat, and it wouldn’t fit. The crowd couldn’t tolerate the delay and started pushing my mother. In response, my mother leaned over me, spilling the bottle of water she was holding all over me as she urged me to hurry and stow the bag. But the bag was just too big. I finally snapped and wailed, “Mom, I CAN’T do it.” I didn’t just mean the bag.

Just then Michael, the hippie, was passing by and said, “You CAN do it.” At that moment, the bag slipped under the seat, I fell into my seat, my mom plopped down next to me and the crisis was averted. Way to give a hand up to a fellow traveler. He clearly heeded the word of Glen Campbell:

If you see your brother standing by the road
With a heavy load from the seeds he’s sowed
And if you see your sister falling by the way
Just stop and say you’re going the wrong way

The driver tried giving a safety demonstration, but I was thinking,
“Just accept the fact that if there is an accident we are all going to die in a fiery inferno. Because how can you expect this group to wait and co-operate enough to pull the lever and push to the side when they are climbing over each other and stepping on each other’s necks just boarding the damn bus.”

My personal hell

Again, beautiful scenery. There were also bears in the road.

This is an igloo-shaped hotel that never quite took off.

This lodge was much more rustic, kind of like summer camp. I just wish they had archery lessons.

What can you do to make a pelt look even creepier? How about sewing it onto a felt-cut-out that makes it look like it’s lying in a pool of its own blood?

“Hey Bob, do you think there are any bears in this cave?”
“Well, I don’t know, Bill, let’s take a look…”

Once again we had a coupon for the lodge’s restaurant. A pod member took me aside and pointed out the double-stroller. She asked, “Were you on the Denali Park Tour? Oh my God, those kids just did not stop! When I see that double stroller, it’s like…it’s like…” she searched for the words.

“Like a harbinger of doom?” I offered helpfully.

“Exactly.” I started my meal with goat cheese and crostini.

I had a nice salad to stave off scurvy. Mmmm, candied walnuts. Scurvilicious.

Surprise! We had gigantic crab legs again. They weren’t as good as the ones at the other resort. They were a little drier, and pulling away from the shell.

I kind of never want to see king crab legs ever again. Everyone loved the blueberry ice cream.

My chocolate mousse, made with ale, was actually pretty darn good.

Then we all snuggled up into our little beds for the night. The end.

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Alaska Day 10: Puppies!

Posted on August 24, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Today everyone got up at 6am to take an 8-hour bus tour around Denali national park. The pod seemed put out that I chose not to join them. But in the last week I have seen beautiful sights from an airplane, from two trains, from a ship, and a boat, I have seen beautiful sights from a helicopter and a dogsled. How many beautiful sights can you see before you poke your own eyes out?

I slept late and hung out in the jacuzzi. I had a slice of pizza for breakfast. I saw our waiter from the night before and he was as gentlemanly and friendly as could be. He said we were his favorite table. I realized at that point who he reminded me of – Floyd the Barber from the Andy Griffith Show. A few members of our pod reproached me for missing the bus tour. Here are a few photos my mom took of what I missed…

Later in the lodge area, one woman confided to me, “Oh my God, the children are in the restaurant and we just made reservations! were you on the bus? It was a nightmare!”

We needed to escape the drama. Luckily I had found a bar the night before called the Salmon Bake that looked very promising. I had wandered in the night before looking for a bar. It turned out to be the spot where the hotel and restaurant workers all go to blow off steam. When I walked in, it was like Robert Service meets Spring Break. The place had been converted into a temporary gambling hall, and there was a big gang of girls wearing drawn-on Pancho Villa moustaches. It was not the kind of place you walk into taking pictures.

Now the party was just another tourist restaurant, although I recognized some of my fellow partiers amongst the waiters and cooks. They may party hard at night, but they work just as hard all day. Open since 1984, the “Bake” also offers cabins.

They had dozens of beers on tap, including my favorite, Kilt Lifter. This is the ale that converted me from a fan of ambers to reds.

Ralph and Mary Ann both went for “flights” (or samplers) from Midnight Sun Brewing Co.

The chowder was made with real cream and fresh salmon.

Fantastic fish and chips. this place was a total find.

Buffalo burgers to die for

and a very tempting dessert tray

That night we visited a dog breeding and training camp for award-winning Iditarod racer Jeff King. Jeff King was unavailable at the time. We learned all kinds of interesting facts and listened to all kinds of fascinating stories. But all I could think about was…

Puppies!!!

Sunset in Denali State Park

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Alaska Day 9: I Hear the Train a’comin

Posted on August 23, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Today we disembarked and began the second leg of our trip: the land portion. I LOVE traveling; I will pretty much go on any trip without asking too many questions. I wanted to leave a little mystery to this journey, so I did not research this part at all.

The day began with a very early train ride. A train ride that lasted for over ten hours. Ten hours of an informative but annoying “tour guide” blathering loudly over the speakers, keeping everyone from sleeping, concentrating on their books or chatting with their friends.

Everyone had become so accustomed to the constant beauty they didn’t even bother looking out the window anymore.


There was some kind of accident on the road that delayed the train, and then, I swear to God, there was an earthquake. While we were pulled over for one of the many bridge safety checks, there was much to-do and it turned out the train had left the conductor behind. It was that kind of day.

There were kids on the train that seemed to be irritating some of the other passengers. I noticed familiar faces on the train and realized that we had been put in a permanent group, or pod for the remainder of the trip. These people were to form cliques and turn on other groups. It was a strange study in group dynamics.

But the scenery was GORGEOUS. How many different ways can I say that? Where the hell is my thesaurus?

On the good side, the view from the train was SPECTACULAR. We even saw beluga whales. That’s right, those bitchin white whales like at Sea World. In the wild. Unfortunately, the photos came out as tiny white spots. Like photos of UFOs or Bigfoot.

I had a DaDa moment here

I spent most of the trip in the less-scenic but relatively private lower level.

At one point the ever-present narration said, “You will notice the multiple beaver dams in this area.” This guy looked out the window and said, “Yeah, it’s like total beaver city out there!” I said, “I have to ask – are you hippies or did you take a lot of acid? Or both?” He and his girlfriend giggled, “We’re that age!”

These are my hippie pals, Michael and Mary.

Another excellent part of the day was the food. The food on the train was killer – I wish the food on the cruise had been as good. I started the day with a croissant filled with a vegetable frittata, FRESH reindeer sausage and cheese. Reindeer’s gaminess is balanced out by suffucient fat and spice.

For lunch I had a bowl of reindeer chili – also killer.

Later, when we were still on the endless train ride of never-ending glory and nature’s majesty, I had a King crab cake slider on a focaccia with red-pepper coulis. I still prefer blue crab, but it was interesting.

The train ride was long, but there were a number of diversions. First cookies were passed by Alex, who was so cute and charming he gave my mom the giggles.

There was even a lecture by an Iditarod racer

It seems our luggage was not traveling by train with us, but by bus along the George Parks Highway. as we received these letters in our lodge:

“A tractor-trailer carrying liquified natural gas overturned on the George Parks Highway. Currently the highway is closed to traffic from mile 171 to mile 184 due to potential of explosion from leaking gas vapors.”

It’s been a strange day.

Tonight, due to the luggage fiasco. we feasted on a comped 300-dollar dinner at Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge, and the meal was unreal, even though we were all the walking dead by that point. The restaurant was on three levels, to take advantage of the view. A child on the level above us started rocking a large iron floor lamp, until finally it began falling, straight down towards my mother. A quick-thinking waiter grabbed the lamp in the nick of time, and the child’s mother pulled her little boy away with a lighthearted “boys will be boys expression”.

After a little discussion, we realized the little boy was the same kid on the train – and the same kid who tripped the waiter on the cruise. He was like the bad seed!

My mom said the waiter was making her a little uncomfortable. When he handed me my drink he did so from behind, leaning down across me. I said, “I see what you mean.” He asked me about my perfume.

As we looked over the menu, Ralph pointed out, “Look. He’s inappropriately touching someone else now. He’s cheating on us with another table.”

When Space Invader Waiter returned to take out order he stood with both hands on the back of my chair, leaning over me. So I did what anyone would do when their space is invaded – I decided to see how far I could invade back. So as he took our orders, I leaned my head back until it was touching his stomache.

The crab cakes were made with King Crab. They were lovely.

My crab dip was unbelievable – heavy cream and super-fresh crab. I also was served around 7 pieces of toasted bread.

Later, when he came over to check on us, Space Invader Waiter stood next to my chair with his right arm resting on the back of my chair. So I leaned over and lightly rested my head against his hip. He didn’t even flinch.

Then I saw him pulling the arm-around the-chair move on a little old man. What is up? He moved before I could snap a picture of that touching scene.

He brought us the biggest crab legs you have ever seen in your entire life and said, “Sorry if they’re not long enough.” Hmmm. I said, “That’s OK. Size doesn’t matter.” He set down my T-bone and said, “And there’s your steak – nice and thick.” Seriously. I was dying.

The crab was sweet and succulent, and I won the contest for the longest crab leg. I was messing around with the camera and Space Invader offered to take my picture. He said, “Are you turned on?” What??? Oh, the camera. I said, “No, “I’m not turned on. To turn me one you have to press right there. No there.” I looked at him for even a glimmer of flirtation and he looked back as innocent as a little kid. Was he really not doing this on purpose? Everyone else at the table was torn between laughing and being completely horrified.

When my mom needed more water, I inappropriately touched the waiter’s belly instead of his elbow as he passed, and he just leaned right into my chair again. No personal boundaries whatsoever. I thought dessert would be the final blow to see if he was messing with us, doing some bizarre waiter trick for tips, or really had no idea that he was all over his patrons. Asking me, “Are you turned on?” Seriously.

But come dessert, the rest of my group left me to order our treats to go. There was no more double-entendre, and he suddenly changed into super-serious waiter. I pushed it when we left by slapping him on the shoulder and turning it into a half-hug. He stiffened up uncomfortably, so I did the straight-guy pat on the back and left with the biggest doggie bag you have ever seen in your whole life.

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Alaska Day 8 Sunday: Fjord, Shmord

Posted on August 21, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Sunday we cruised through the fjords. Everything was gorgeous. It almost got to be too much. How much beauty can you really take? How much stunning but endless (and deadly) ice can you stare at, day, after day? How long does it take for Alaskan fishermen to just start attacking each other with grappling hooks?

On deck, they were serving reindeer chili. There had been rumors of a chili cook-off, and I was a little disappointed I didn’t get to compete. Their chili was OK, but I would have totally kicked ass in a cook-off. You know you’re on vacation when you have beer for breakfast.

I wandered into the buffet for dessert and found this unusual delicacy

I thought it was like a cross between fruitcake and an English pudding, but Mary Anne may have been more accurate when she dubbed it “Meatloaf cake”. Of course there were more creepy fruit carvings.

There was more sugar-free cake, this time with a label calling it marscapone cream, and I felt validated that my first guess had been correct.

Then on to more fjord watching

I had discovered a few days before that the ship offered afternoon tea in the Bordeaux restaurant. It was run with precision, exactly as the dinner service should have been. Staff was plentiful, service was attentive, and division of duties clear. Our tea was hot and quickly refilled.

I apologize for photo quality. I forgot my camera, and the only one available was a disposable underwater camera.

The sandwiches were cucumber, tuna salad, chicken salad, and pate. I wanted to like the pate, it was piped so prettily on the single slice of bread, but alas – too liverwurst-y. The genteel ladies with whom we were seated seemed to enjoy it. Although I have heard that your taste buds erode as you age.

There was a lovely selection of miniature pastries and cookies. I wish the other chefs had half the chops of the ship’s bakers.

I tried to get reservations for dinner at the ($20) Italian restaurant, but it was booked up. I took my travelmates to the ($15) Cajun restaurant to celebrate our last night at sea.

The steak was tender, and the catfish was crispy, without fishiness or grease. Maybe not up to New Orleans, but as good of Cajun food as you can get outside of Louisiana. The gumbo was more like a seafood celebration than a soup/stew. The shrimp were good, but I still would recommend the catfish.

My mom’s lobster tail was ginormous. There was an extra fee, maybe 5 more dollars. A 20-dollar lobster tail still ain’t bad.

The sides were hit-and-miss. The jambalaya was not very good – practically Zatarains. But the succotash was so creamy, rich and delicious I would have liked a bigger serving. Everything else on the mixed side plate was average and unimpressive.

Of the desserts, I remember the bread pudding fondly. But I have no memory of this dessert at all, which is unusual. Not a clue.

I wish they would have made the effort to have themed drinks – at least hurricanes and Abita Beer. I asked the musicians to play something from New Orleans and they declined, explaining, “We’re a jazz band.” Yeah, because New Orleans has nothing to do with Jazz.

As we ate, another table let two small children run wild all over the restaurant. It was beyond “let kids be kids” – it was dangerous. At one point the 2-or3-year old ran right under the feet of a waiter rushing out of the kitchen with a large tray of hot dishes. Only Broadway-quality tap dancing by the waiter kept that kid from being scalded by hot soup – and the waiter out of traction.

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Alaska Day 7 Saturday: Glacier Bay

Posted on August 20, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

As with the other “days a sea” I had pre-booked a spa treatment – bad move. As we cruised through majestic glaciers, the naturalist’s voice boomed out over the loudspeaker, “…and there’s another whale!” I perked up from the massage table as the masseuse tried to relax me, “Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing LOTS of whales.” Even the day’s “Princess Patter” newsletter recommends that you don’t schedule any activities (people couldn’t resist making Princess Patter jokes all week).

To celebrate the cruise through Glacier Bay, the ship set up a “Taste of Alaska” buffet.

Ice sculptures to celebrate the – ice

There were your usual shrimp and lox. The only real “Alaska” specialties were salmon and a venison pate. After our previous experience with venison, I wasn’t going to even touch that. The deviled eggs were fantastic, made with the same combination of cream and marscapone used in the pastries.

I did become obsessed with the fruit carvings. They were cheerfully creepy.

This one scared me in a visceral JRR Tolkienesque way

Really, did they have to put glass eyes in them?

Too bad that class on fruit carving was so early in the morning. I will admit to flaking on every single class, activity, lecture, show and program offered. So maybe I missed a lot of the cruise experience. I just wanted to read and get spa treatments. The view from the balcony turned out to be so spectacular that on most days we just stared out at the scenery. Oh, and I took a lot of pictures of scenery – and food.

As I was staring out at the fantastic views of Glacier Bay, the booming voice shouted out, “We have orcas! You have no idea how special this is, folks. In 20 trips, we are lucky if we see orcas even once!” And lucky for me, the orcas were on our side of the ship. An orca sighting was one of my main hopes for this trip, so I was very excited and satisfied.

There was even wildlife on shore

Wildlife everywhere!

Mary Ann noticed the similarity between the local native arts and the faces you could see in the abstract forms of the ice and rocks. At first I thought maybe the buffet had out the wrong kind of mushrooms in the pasta, but then I started to see them too.

Really, I would suggest trying to get a room on the starboard side of the ship when heading north, and port south (The opposite of the old European cruises – Port Out, Starboard Home = POSH). In Glacier Bay, the ship does turn around a lot to afford everyone as much of a view as possible, but for the rest of the trip, starboard was definitely the best side.

We saw minor “calving” but no gigantic icebergs. The blue ice was stunning.

That night was another formal night, but I decided to have a slice of white pizza and spent the evening on the internet (These blogs don’t write themselves).

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