Good Tidings and all that....

WELL, Christmas has come and gone without our soon-to-be-diagnosed clinical depression/separation anxiety rearing it's ugly head. Er, heads. Whatever.

It was rotten being away from family, just as I predicted in the last post, but there were bright points that took our minds off of how much we miss everyone back home.

One point of questionable brightness was the age-old Christmas Tradition of "Feeding Chickens that Live in Our Yard."

Here's a little vid of me and "Le Coq Monsieur," the young rooster who seems to be the only one that realizes that we're vegetarians and can be trusted. And we're slow-moving.



He's actually the half brother of ""Pomme," the little chick featured in an older, but equally boring post.

Their mother, Frenchie, is growing more and more trusting by the day, and we hope to be able to hand feed her soon.

You know we don't have a TV, right?

Anyway, I was worried that we wouldn't see the Chickens for Christmas. They have been coming around less and less, seeming to take offense to the Holiday album I've been playing.




We received a call from Mr. Chowtee, Maitre D'Hotel of "The Lighthouse at Breakers" (our favorite restaurant on the planet) on Sunday. He advised us that they would be offering a limited seating for Christmas dinner, and that "Someone" had called in a Gift Certificate for us.

I asked if the sender was supposed to be a secret.

He said "I don't know, your Dad didn't say."

We made our reservation and got seats on the patio, where we were able to witness the Christmas Sunset over our insalata.



For dinner, I had a gorgeous Baked Pumpkin Gnocchi with Asparagus and Petit Ripali.



Kristi had Pumpkin and Leek soup with Sunflower Seeds, and I think she liked it.... I was too busy cramming the gnocchi into my face like some Haute Cuisine Homer Simpson to pay attention.

For dessert, we always share the Beignets with Vietnamese Cinnamon. I think they're low carb or something.



They're served with Creme Anglaise, fresh fruit, and Strawberry Coulis, and I think that they're proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

They're so good, I think they merit another pic.



We'll have some when you come and visit. So, COME ON!!!! And tell my folks to phone in another free dinner for us.

The old Red Bay Estate puts on a pretty spectacular Christmas Light display, which we photographed from the car, as we were too stuffed to get out.



I think they're just over-compensating for the fact that they didn't do ANYTHING for 4th of July.

After hauling ourselves inside, I flopped walrus-style back out to the porch to cap off the evening with an exquisite Cuban Partagas Lusitania, one of the benchmark double-coronas of the world.



Coupled with an equally exquisite 8-year-old Angostura Trinidadian Rum, it was a fitting end to a perfect meal.



Two hours alone in the dark gave me a lot of time to think of everyone about whom we care so much.

This is the first Christmas I've ever spent away from friends and family, and I'm not anxious to repeat it.

I was able to make peace with the sadness I feel in the realization that if the people in our lives weren't so incredible, I wouldn't be so "mashed up" over not being with them.

So, while Christmas is an incredible time, there's no reason that the next time we see you can't be just as special.

Togetherness is cause enough for celebration, and it can't come soon enough for us.

Anyway, Merry Christmas, and thanks for reading.

I promise more marginally amusing tales in the New Year, if we make it that far.

Peace.

A Stinging Sensation

Kristi and I went swimming with some Stingrays on Sunday, and I had plans of writing a long post about it.

It was incredibly enjoyable, even though both of us received painful bites, or "sucks" to be more accurate.

Here's Kristi's "Stingray Hickie."




Our amazing friends Marc and Kirstin keep the blog "Rues de Geneve" (link below.) They've been living in Switzerland for about the same amount of time we've been here in Cayman, and we shamelessly copied their idea of keeping a blog to chronicle the adventure.



Early this week, we received the sad news that Kirstin's Father had passed away in Texas after a heart-breaking battle with esophageal cancer.

The shadow that this news cast has left us feeling contemplative and even more woeful that we won't be returning home over the Christmas Holiday.

It also made writing an unfunny post about Stingrays seem even less important that it already was, if that's even possible.


This Holiday Season has really crept up on us. It's hard to take "December" seriously when we're rubbing aloe on sunburnt shoulders.

Yesterday, I heard one of my favorite Christmas Carols, Stevie Wonder's performance of "Someday at Christmas."

The rush of emotion was overwhelming.

I thought about our families and how hard it is to be so far away from them, especially during this time of year.

I thought about our friends and how Christmas is usually when we'd gather to check in on one another.

I though about the fragility and impermanence of everything, and loved ones who are no longer with us.

Thinking these things and hearing this song was too much, and I had to pull into a parking lot to wipe the tears from my eyes and regain control before finishing the drive to work.

I'm officially homesick.

I'm attaching Stevie's carol for you to enjoy.

Even though it was written in 1967, the lyrics are just as applicable today.



So, just in case.... Merry Christmas.

Cay-Listers

For years the Ritz-Carlton Grand Cayman was a joke and a punchline within itself.

It took like 87 years to build, at a cost of 9 quadrillion dollars, and remains two-thirds empty 5 years after opening. The starting price for three bedroom Condos inside the Ritz has just been lowered, yes LOWERED to 2.9 million US. Really.

They keep a parking circle full of white Mercedes-Benz and BMW vehicles for their guests to use, as well as a helicopter to shuttle you to Miami if you eat some bad shellfish or something.

The bad shellfish would have to come from somewhere else, because both* of their restaurants have menus designed by Eric Ripert, a Michelin Star winner and one of the top 5 chefs in the world.

*Both. Two. One over-priced joint was not enough for them. Two over-priced joints was juuuuust-riiiiight.



The Ritz is a gargantuan structure, joining the Great Wall of China and Kirstie Alley as one of the few Earthly things visible from space. It's so tall that it eclipses the sun on our morning beach walk, and our disgust at the size and pretentiousness of the complex is matched only by our hatred for it's guests.

All of that being said, they really know how to throw a party.

The Ritz hosted the Cayman Classic Tennis ProAm over the weekend, and Kristi was offered VIP passes in exchange for her services as a Physiotherapist for the tournament players.

We debated a little when the offer came through....

Should we take the high road, standing strong in the face of an institution that we feel is an eyesore and completely wrong for Cayman?

Or.....

Should we go eat their food, drink their liquor, and act like fools? You know... in protest or whatever....

Well....




Once I saw the tickets, I knew it we had to make a decision. And a scene.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Please attire yourself in white for this event."

Pfffffttt.

They might as well have said: "Zach. Please act like a Baboon on Angel Dust."

We went, and I must admit it was really lovely.




The food was fresh and delicious (see Baked Potato Martini below), the pours were generous and straight from the top shelf, and the service was friendly and attentive.




There were also a bunch of celebrities there, but more on them later.

We ran into our friends Jocelyn and Brian and had an incredibly nice time.




But, you know... we had a great time IN PROTEST!!!!!

We grabbed our shoes and left a little after midnight, feeling like maybe we hadn't given the Ritz a fair shake.



We woke up feeling a little... Off, and decidedly less hospitable.

The ProAm was that morning, and we had VIP tent bracelets.



Again, incredible food and drink, luxurious accommodations, and some aggressively obnoxious celebrities.

I sat by Frankie Muniz (from TV's Malcom in the Middle) for the better part of 5 hours. This was not my choice... it was just a very small tent.



He looked like the hobbit, and would not shut up about car racing.

Some gems:

"I'm one of the top-ten drivers in the world."

"NASCAR is fixed, so I turned down a HUGE contract with them."

"I'm one of the top-five drivers in the world."

"I could probably win this tennis tournament, but I'm saving my energy for a race that's coming up."

"I'm like the.... top driver in the world.... but, whatever...."

"I'm like a God in Mexico City. They love me. I'm the top driver in the world."

"I don't even act anymore... you have to make sacrifices when you're the top driver in the world."

(When asked about Helio Castroneves, the REAL top driver in the world)

"He lost on Dancing with the Stars. I'll beat him no problem."

and

"I race cars for a living. I'm probably the top driver in the world."

Alan Thicke, Jason Biggs, that dude who won "The Apprentice," and that blonde lady that Fred Thompson fired from his office for being a lesbo on Law and Order were there, too. Oh yeah, and a bunch of tennis stars.

They all graciously spared me the details of what they're "best in the world" at.

Anyway, I was Over-Served once again, and left feeling sunburnt and angry at the Ritz for inviting Frankie Muniz.

All in all... a very nice couple of days on the Ritz's dime. The face value for all four tickets was over $1,000, so I suppose that we can't be too angry at the Ritz.

But we probably will.

I did get bitten by a FIRE ANT while I was there.




I think I'll sue them AND Frankie Muniz.

Ta.

Pumk'd

This is a rooster from Smith's Cove. We haven't named him, yet.... Any ideas?

WELL, there's depressingly little to report. The agency has me "proctoring tests" again this week at the Med School.

"Proctoring" is Latin/Canadian for "Sitting in Frozen Silence." The one bit of excitement is every two hours or so I get to go "SSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!" and furrow my brow. Good stuff.

SO, instead of talking about Scantrons or the Bathroom sign-out sheet, I'm going to talk about the pumpkin I roasted yesterday.



Pumpkin grows year-round here in Cayman. It's a staple food that accompanies island-style cuisine and thickens soups and stews. We buy a pumpkin every week and put it into burritos, on pizzas, and even over ice cream.



Once you've selected your pumpkin, cut the big boy into halves.

With a stout metal spoon, scrape out the fibers and seeds.



Chop and Peel the flesh to uniform size, making sure to rinse well to remove any grit or remaining peel.



Spread onto a baking sheet. Drizzle with Olive Oil and toss with salt, pepper, sugar, and a savory herb.

We use local fresh Thyme, although Sage or Rosemary would be just as delicious.

We also add chopped Vidalia Onion and a couple cloves of Garlic, though it works just as well without.



Bake in a 375 degree oven for about 45 minutes, tossing every ten minutes or so.

Once the house smells so good you can no longer stand it (and the pumpkin mashes with almost no pressure) it's time to eat.



It's traditionally served along with Rice and Peas or roasted breadfruit.

I've referenced breadfruit before... it's a starchy fruit that you treat the same as you would potato. I roasted some of that yesterday, as well... it looks like this:



If savory isn't your thing, you can roast the pumpkin with almond oil, cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar, which also makes the house smell incredible. This is what it looks like:



Warm spiced pumpkin with Vanilla Ice Cream or cold Rice Pudding is like a religious experience. (It's even more religious if you use Soy Dream/So Delicious or Vegan Rice Pudding... hahaha)

Speaking of Religious, make sure not to tip the pan when you're moving it in and out of the oven to toss during roasting. The hot oil can run down to the tipping point, soak through your oven-mitt, and give you a nasty grease burn.

Like this one:



I say Religious, because I took the Lord's name in vain over and over again whilst clutching my thumb. It was ALMOST as bad a KILLER BEE STING!!!!!!

Anyway, back to pumpkins:

The Halloween-variety Pumpkin (called the "Oil Pumpkin") has flesh the is much too fibrous to eat, so you may not want to try this on the leftover Jack-o-Lantern on your porch.

You CAN, however, roast the seeds, which are healthy and delicious. We toss them in salads and they add a marvelous depth of flavor.



And... If you have the expeller attachment for your KitchenAid mixer, you can extract the oil from the seeds. It's incredibly healthy, and is all the rage on the gourmet scene right now.

In fact, splashing the deep green pumpkin seed oil over scrambled eggs creates one-half of Dr. Seuss's famous dish. (insert Sam I Am joke here)

Alright, enough pumpkin talk. If cooking isn't your thing, you'll just have to come and visit so I can make it for you.

Soon.

Ta.

Number of Things that Went Wrong This Week:

Not quite that many, but still... a rotten week by any measure.

Highlights include :

- leaving my ATM card in the machine and living in almost constant terror that they're stealing the few measley dollars that we have.

- being offered a job at FedEx, then being told that it might not start for a FEW MONTHS.

- Kristi getting a call from her boss at 4:40pm on Friday "letting her know" that, despite no previous notification, this was a "working weekend." Kristi was supposed to be moving furniture (which she remembered well from her Master's Studies...)

- We show up early on Saturday to "work." No one else does.

- ANOTHER FIRE ANT bite on my hand, which has since become infected.

- MU's loss to whoever those inbred meatheads were.

Anyway, this is just the tip of the iceberg, but in this case the iceberg is composed of frozen sewage. The week was lousy.... almost "we're getting out of here" lousy. We'll keep you posted.


Enough whining.

Kristi ran on a relay team for the Cayman Islands Marathon this morning, for which we got up at 3:30am, still angry from MU's stinging loss. There were a total of about 500 runners, most of whom were also on relay teams.

It was nice to have breathing room after being stranded so many times before among the droves of people who turn out for Chicago and Boston's marathons.

Her team did well, and she overtook 5 runners that had gotten their handoff before her. I think it was this intimidating pre-run flexing that got them scared....



I was proud her performance, but pride faded back into this week's standard-issue simmering rage when I stepped into a puddle of ice-runoff and vomit by the finish line. In flip-flops.

I've showered and napped, and have calmed down. I'm crossing my fingers that this week will be better.

Until then, I'm taking refuge in this local vegetable pizza that I just made:



...this Partagas Serie P No. 2.....



...and this lovely Flor de Caña 12 year old Nicaraguan rum.



Until then....

Grubbin' Up

The Feast!

Today, after a walk on the beach, we cooked for most of the morning and then ate for most of ten minutes.

I know I promised "a million pictures," but I saw all the marvelous food, and could only snap one before going at it like the Tasmanian Devil in those old Looney Toons.

The menu was:

Quorn (fake chicken) that we breaded Cajun Style and fried.

Tossed Salad with toasted Pumpkin Seeds.

Local Breadfruit roasted with fresh thyme and garlic.

Local Pumpkin roasted with more fresh thyme and sweet onions.

Local Callaloo sauteed with sweet onions.

Sauteed Local Plantain. (not pictured, yes devoured.)

Kristi's Multigrain Cornbread

We were going to make the Jamaican Festival fritters for dessert, but neither of us could move well after the culinary onslaught.

Now, in true Thanksgiving style, we're going to eat some cold leftovers and watch MU roll KU up and smoke them on (inter)national television.

We don't have a TV, so we have to go to Legendz Sports Bar to do it. Nothing says "Thanksgiving" like 7 dollar rum and cokes.

Oh, and here's a picture of a chicken high up in the tree across the street.



TA!

Giving Thanks

Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all.

I know any Thanksgiving message is supposed to have a picture of a Turkey, but there are no turkeys here. The photo above is of "Pomme Pomme," the newest addition to the (flock? gaggle? swarm?) uh... group of chickens that lives in our yard.

Pomme Pomme's mother is a beautiful black and white hen that looks like she's straight out of some European still-life painting. We named her "Frenchie Poulet" immediately upon moving in. Here's a picture of Pomme running to steal a morsel of bread from Frenchie:



Get it? Chicken n' Taters? Anyway..

We're vegetarians, so there was no chicken OR turkey for our Thanksgiving day festivities. We both had to work, but celebrated the holiday by eating Falafel sandwiches and Fatoush salad on 7 miles beach just before sunset. The only way in which the evening could have been improved was if we were joined by our families and friends whom we miss so much.

When we arrived home from dinner we noticed a couple of things that were different than when we'd left.

First, there was a cow tied to a tree across the street from our house.



I think it's a baby bull, but it was ill-tempered and I didn't feel that a full inspection was needed.

Another thing we noticed was this car.



It was about 50 yards from our driveway, and was drew a very lively crowd. I almost ran inside to grab a bottle of rum in an effort to spawn a spontaneous block party, but the Cops didn't seem in much of a "dancing mood." Maybe another time.

At some point I'll have an entire post about Caribbean Drivers, but until then let me think of a way to describe them....

Have you ever gone to an arcade in which they have a whole row of Car Racing games, and there's ten or twelve children screaming and swerving and driving as fast as the cars will go?

Imagine them a little taller and with accents. And on PCP. That's about right...



Anyway, the black car hit this guy's car when it was stationary, resulting in Ambulance rides all around and one very upset cow. It also caused the first-ever traffic jam in our tiny little corner of the island, so that was exciting.

We even got to see a real Caymanian Firetruck.



It's just like the ones I draw in the sand while "exercising."

Anyway, I guess we're thankful that we weren't in the accident, and they neither of us were tied to a tree, and all that....

We're also thankful that all of the marvelous people in our lives are safe and sound, and we'll keep all of you in our prayers.

...and check back over the weekend. We're doing our big Thanksgiving meal on Saturday, and I'll have about a million pics to post.

Until then....

Bugs-2 / Z-0

I found this on my walk the other day.

Kristi and I go out to the beach almost every morning. She runs and I walk. Usually.

Sometimes I wait until she's out of sight and I sit down and draw firetrucks and stingrays in the sand.

But I WAS walking when I found a lobster leg on the beach. I looked around, finding more legs, and eventually came across the object in the pic above.

It's a section of the exoskeleton from a Spiny Lobster's tail. They're usually brown, but this one was bleached out by the sun, revealing all of these beautiful pastel pinks and purples. I thought it was pretty, so I picked it up to show Kristi.

The membrane underneath the tail, as well as the swimmerettes, were intact, so I know it wasn't a human that ate this lobster. It probably washed ahore dead, and was hollowed out by the ghost crabs that keep the beach clean.

Either way, my taking it must have disturbed the Animalian Spirits, causing them to release the Arthropodic Fatwah that has plagued me since.

You remember the KILLER BEE sting, right? Well, that felt like an Angel's Kiss compared to the FIRE ANTS that attacked me at the beach on Sunday.

I had picked up a piece of coral and placed it on our beach blanket to keep it from getting blown away by the Christmas Breezes. I laid down to read, and about 4.2 nanoseconds later I was on fire.

I don't remember if the realization that I was covered with ants preceded my hellish screetching, but both were of no comfort to those around me.


I ran into the water for relief, which never came.

Within about 5 minutes, I had 30-some half-inch welts all over my arms, all of which felt like a cigarette was being pressed into them. Hard.

I jabbered about "mortal f'ing pain" until Kristi took me home. I spent the evening whimpering into my Chana Masala until bedtime, telling Kristi to look at my arms no less than 50 times.



When I started to tell her how it felt, she smirked and told me to save my energy, she'd just read about it on the blog.

I think I'll leave a banana peel in her bed so she can have her own Fire Ants story.

Anyway, I'm taking the Lobster Shell back to the beach tonight. Hopefully it will reverse whatever bad Crustacean-juju is vexing me.... I'll keep you posted.