Bicentenario de México – Margaritas anyone?

This article started out as a review of the new La Sandía restaurant at the Santa Monica Place mall, but somehow I felt the need to throw in the following two paragraphs as background:

Today is Independence Day – if you’re Mexican. And even more, today is the bicentennial of Mexican Independence from Spain. On September 16, 1810, Miguel Hidalgo, a Mexican Priest from Dolores, Guanajuato, rang his church bell to gather his pueblo. Once gathered, he gave an inspiring speech about the need to free themselves from Spanish oppression. In response, the people began shouting their support, and the war of independence began. Hidalgo was eventually captured, tried, sentenced and executed by the Spaniards, but the movement carried on, and 11 years later on September 27, 1821, Mexico was free of Spanish rule.

Much like the 4^th of July, Mexico’s independence is celebrated on the day the movement began, not the day it ended. Every year on September 15^th Mexicans gather for festivities that include traditional music, foods and fireworks, leading up to El Grito de la Independencia, the cry of independence at midnight, lead by the President of Mexico, who rings the bell of the National Palace in Mexico City. Across Mexico, los presidentes municipales (municipal presidents, or for us Americans, mayors) do the same at their municipal palaces (city halls). Each president (national and municipal) repeats a cry of patriotism (based upon Hidalgo’s original speech) from the balcony of the palace to the assembled crowds below, and the patriotic crowd chants back.

Yeah, yeah…a rowdy rabble of uncultured seditionists. I bet that’s what King George III said about that little letter he got from John Hancock, et. al. shortly after it was sent on July 4^th, 1776. “Hedley? Dispatch the following message to Mr. Hancock and his rowdy rabble of uncultured seditionists.” And with a wave of his royal highness’ hand, Hedley is shot by the king’s guards.

Crowded plazas? Food sold from carts? Fireworks forcing me to cover my ears (I was once separated from my family in the parking lot of Six Flags while leaving during the fireworks show…I have a small problem with the noise and the lights if I’m too close)?

Personally, I’ll celebrate at La Sandía, recently opened on the Dining Terrace of the newly renovated Santa Monica Place. Most Mexican food restaurants in the US serve food a true Mexican wouldn’t even be able to identify as Mexican, but Chef Richard Sandoval was born in Mexico City, and he knows Mexican.

The place is huge…much larger even that it appears when you first walk up. I think the ceiling is three stories above your head, and tables are not crowded together as happens in some other restaurants. The menu was authentic, with fair prices (we got out of there at about $50 per person, including drinks and tip). The wait staff was friendly, enthusiastic and attentive, visible enough when you need them, but at the same time unobtrusive. I don’t think any of them spoke Spanish, though…just the bus boys.

Prior to going I had heard their margaritas were bitter and watered down, but I started off with a blended strawberry one just the same. I thought it was sweet, and I was tipsy by the end of the first round. 

The queso fundido (melted cheese) was a great companion to the drinks. The plate arrives with the cheese still sizzling, a small side of guacamole and two salsas. Disclaimer: I have been eating very hot (peel your tongue type hot) peppers and salsas since I was a little kid, so cautiously take my opinion when I say the standard salsas were very flavorful, but not very spicy. I requested a hotter sauce and was supplied with a habanero based salsa. I ended up mixing this sauce (whose spice I preferred) with the standard sauce supplied with the home made tortilla chips (whose flavor was amazing) to apply to most of the rest of my food.

As a main course I ordered the Taco Platter, choosing chicken tinga as my filling. The rice and refried style black beans were savory accompaniments, and the chicken tinga (shredded meat simmered in a tomato and chipotle sauce) was great, but I think the amount of lettuce in each taco overpowered the flavor a bit. I ended up pulling the lettuce out and eating it on the side as a flavorful salad, making the tinga flavor of the taco stand out more.

As a chaser I ordered another appetizer: the grilled steak huaraches.  Huarache in Mexico is a sandal or flip-flop; this dish gets its disagreeable name from the shape of the masa, or batter, which is a corn-based batter fried like a pancake to make a thick tortilla like bread. The huarache is topped with caramelized onions, cilantro, refried black beans, cheese, red sauce and a medium rare slice of skirt steak. Quite delicious, if you ask me.

My only two complaints:

1) They only take reservations for between 2 and 6. Their reasoning was that there is too much mall traffic and if someone shows up as a walk in at 7 or 8 and sees an empty table, they wonder why they cannot be seated. I think this is a stupid argument because everyone I know understands the concept of “reserved.” I am calling to make a reservation specifically to assure a table in the event the restaurant is very busy. I am thinking ahead to avoid standing at your door for an hour while I am hungry and with a group of friends. People who don’t think ahead are welcome to wait that hour. Avoid having to explain empty tables by setting aside half of the restaurant for walk-ins, and anyone arriving late for their reservation loses their table.

2) I so totally over-ate!

So celebrate Mexican Independence: go to La Sandía in the Santa Monica Place.

Sorry about the pictures; I'm not a bad photographer, but these were just snapshots with a point and click digital camera.

$#*! My Dad Says

Yesterday I watched my first promo for this new series, and I have to comment. It’s a moral imperative. For those of you who don’t know, it is premiering on Thursday, September 23 at 8:30 PM (7:30 PM Central time). It’s a sit-com based on the wildly popular twitter account of Justin Halpern. It stars William Shatner, Jonathan Sadowski, Will Sasso and Nicole Sullivan.

To be honest, living in LA and seeing all the billboards around town, I was sick of the show long ago. William Shatner, to me, is really just “Captain Kirk,” always and forever…even TJ Hooker was “TJ Hooker, starring James T. Kirk,” and as an author, it should be, “Get a Life by James T. Kirk” and “TekWar by James T. Kirk.” Sorry, dude…I know I’m so wrong, but I discovered you on re-runs when I was 4.

And word-of-mouth…well, it was bad. Everyone I knew told me this show was not worth watching. “Shatner is stiff and bored,” they told me.

But, as I said, I saw the promo online yesterday, and it looked great. And not because of Will Sasso or Nicole Sullivan, both comedy veterans of MADtv, the Cleveland show, Family Guy, Scrubs, etc. (see their IMDB.com profiles for their full credits). I thought Bill (May I be so bold, Mr. Shatner?) really looked like he could carry this show:

“Son, if it looks like manure and smells like manure, it’s either Wolf Blitzer or manure.”

“Why do I have to keep identifying letters?? I’ve been driving for 60 years and I’ve never been rear-ended by a gigantic E!”

“I’m sorry that I was rude to you…you didn’t deserve that. You seem like a very nice ho-mo-sexual.”

“Ed Goodson?” “Very common name!” “Edison Milford Goodson?” “A somewhat common name!”

Okay, in text it’s a bit dry: it’s just as funny (or as unfunny) as the twitter feed. But Bill really does a great job of delivering the lines. I believe he is a loving dad who just grew up in a time when men did not show emotion (same era in which Kirk was raised, I expect). He loves his son(s), but can’t show it, at least not in the way we would expect.

But I have to say, CBS…you’ve got the title all wrong. You shouldn’t call it “Bleep My Dad Says.” You should call it what it is: “Shit My Dad Says,” and just actually BLEEP the first word.

I don’t know if it will make it into my normal TV routine, but I will certainly watch the pilot. Good luck, guys!

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly of Gym

I like going to the gym. I feel great after a 90 minute run on the elliptical trainer. It also helps that I burn 1500 calories in that 90 minutes, meaning I can eat 3500 calories per day without gaining weight. Daddy liiiike...

But there is a down side to the gym. Unless it's your own private gym, you share it with others, which means exposure to their bad etiquette, or worse, disease. When I first started, I would go in street clothes, change there, shower afterward, and then leave just as clean as when I arrived...or so I thought. Two months later I had athlete's foot. I have to assume I picked it up in the shower. I now arrive in gym clothes and go home sweaty, to shower in my own, clean shower.

More recently I changed gyms (now I can walk to the gym from my house). Shortly after starting at this new gym I developed a serious stomach infection that lasted 5 days. Talking to another member of the same gym, I was informed that he too had gotten ill the same day as I, and had worked out at the gym as well. Furthermore, he had gotten sick at that gym before. No smoking gun, but enough evidence to make me decide that, prior to every workout, I would spray down all surfaces of the elliptical I intended to touch with a disinfectant and let it sit for 20 to 30 seconds before wiping it down. I have not been sick since.

Recently I have seen several things happen at the gym that makes me grateful for this almost mysophobic (germaphobic) routine. As I already said, I no longer use the locker room, which means I almost never go into the bathroom. I have used the restroom twice at the new gym: once when I did 3 hours on the elliptical, and once when I did my normal routine, but had come from being out and about, and I tend to drink a lot of water. Both times I saw men shaving. At my last gym, several times I saw men shaving their backs and arms. In my opinion this should never happen. If you use the full services of the locker room, it should not be a substitute for your home grooming. The point of a gym locker room is to allow you to arrive and leave clean. Shave at home. I don't want to have to worry about being exposed to HIV or hepatitis at the gym because you decided to skip shaving at home and cut yourself at the gym.

Another time, while I was working out, I glanced over and saw a man using another machine, and on his arms he had several lesions of some sort. I didn't ask him about it, and for all I know they were just sores from sliding into third base, but regardless of their origins, they were crusted with dried blood and lymph. Obviously they were not bandaged, and they were on his hands. Not in direct contact with the machine, but could be if he accidentally backhanded the machine while reaching for something. I probably should have said something to him, such as, "Sir, you really should bandage those wounds prior to coming to the gym, both for your safety as well as the safety and peace of mind of others." I would think, though, that such a practice would be common sense.

Finally, I would like to mention the Really Ugly of the gym: cruising. I don't have any problems with meeting someone at the gym, and if that leads to dating, or just hooking up, or whatever, that's your business. But it is one thing to see someone you think is attractive, make contact, and then take it private, and quite another thing to see someone you like and just stare them down. Repeatedly. If you don't know how to flirt, get a coach. But don't stare me down on a daily basis, or worse, follow me around the weight room. That's stalking. Get a clue: if I didn't respond to you at first, I'm either not interested or not paying attention (which means you didn't catch my interest, right? So I'm still not interested). Go away!

Okay, so that is my gym rant. The point: I like going to the gym, but remember people, it's a public place. Treat it well, so others can enjoy it too.