Compassion and its lack

Yesterday brought with it a blinding realization. True, I had often expressed hatred for Yelp and other online review sites (but especially Yelp), but I never had a concrete, iron-clad reason for it. It was more of a miasma of unease, of bad taste left in mouth. Of not liking something because it's cool not to like a popular internet phenomenon (see twitter for more details).

Yelp doesn't promote compassion. In fact, it holds the distinction of doing exactly opposite. Places like this promote critical, unforgiving, unmitigated nastiness. Because there is never any recourse, there are never any repercussions against what might be false, exaggerated, or otherwise untrue.

I was talking with the woman who owns the shop next door about how reading Yelp reviews alone is a bad idea (just like drinking). It makes one angry and upset. She added that it's also a bad idea to look at them before going to work for much the same reasons. Because folks can say things like "you're just a glorified girl scout," on the internet, perhaps thinking they're funny. And maybe they are. But seriously? Really? What is that going to change? Why does the world need to know that you think I have an attitude problem after working a weekend in a busy store basically alone? How will that guide them in their cookie quest? Why do you care enough to post this? Conversely, why do I care what you think of me? (Because I liked to be liked is one reason.)

I mentioned this conversation to Mike and he riposted that I am just as critical. Especially of customers. Fair. But there's a difference between treating someone like a fellow human being and like a subhuman creature. I also don't post my nastiness on the internet but let it die a natural, oral death (most of the time). Thus speaks the service industry worker. What I also like is the idea of a reverse yelp where baristas and other service workers can follow customers to their important office buildings in financial centers or whathaveyou and rate their performance there. 3 stars because you slacked on your copying and phone call responding. 2.5 stars because you were a terrible kiss ass to your boss and she could totally tell.

And then we can post it on the internet for all the world to see.

I think this all comes into perspective as a new bakery/restaurant has opened up nearby. I went on the first day (Saturday) and had to wait a ridiculously long time for my sandwich because, hey, it's the first day and the kitchen is slammed. I get it. I went back yesterday with Sarah for breakfast and things were much smoother. And delicious. Also supernice counter help, even if one guy tried a little too hard to be smooth. Maybe he's new at this waiting game. Maybe that's his style and just not mine. Maybe I'm thinking too much. But what I will do is tell folks with my actual mouth about places I think are worthwhile and listen to what they have to say as well - it's called word-of-mouth I think. You do it by talking.

(She snarkily typed.)

giraffes. just because

I saw this comic on the weekend and cried I was laughing so hard. Can't get the image to display right, so click on the link. Really. You'll love it.

I also will be printing this out and putting it in my wallet.

Been also watching a bunch of Eddie Izzard and laughing a bunch there too - that man is a brilliant mime and excellent at looping his stories together with the oddest of connectors. Mice and the Italian Job; how can you not laugh? Enjoy something funny!

Watched Julie and Julia again last night with Sarah. I hate that she's so obsessed with her blog, her readers. I think that while the discipline of writing daily is a good one, I don't want to be so, ummm, self absorbed? Does that make sense? So pardon if I lean the other way and don't post so often. I'd like to get back to weekly updates. Also being like Julia Childs and living in Paris in a golden age.

Where is the time machine?

The not so frozen north

The trip to Humbolt county at the start of January was, ummm, not quite what we expected. Mike and I actually had made a reservation at a historic B&B in small town outside of Eureka. We never make reservations and thus have started most our trips trekking around looking for a place to stay. After eating an incredible brunch that lasted from 1 to 4 with Sarah and Nic we took off, figured out how to use Mike's ipod to listen to some interesting podcasts (Stuff you never learned in history class is my favorite). (Later buying a cable let us plug it into the car and thus actually hear everything through the much louder car speakers.) I drove curvy dark roads I didn't know in the fog and we arrived to Ferndale around 9 p.m.

Apparently the sidewalks roll up at 8 or 8:30, depending on the day.

The Lost Coast was gorgeous (it's lost because eroding into the sea, always shifting). Having a car let us drive around and explore random spots - a cheese factory in Loleta had viewing windows to the big vats of curds; it was like watching a Mr Roger's episode but in real life. Eureka had a few excellent used bookstores, also we got to tour the Lost Coast Brewery (this micro brew places are so tiny!) and ate lunch at their cafe. Trinidad further north was again gorgeous beaches and ocean too cold to even think about going near. Lots of natural beauty.

Unfortunately I got a fever on the first full day we were there and was very sick for most of the time we were supposed to be relaxing on vacation. Not the best timing, that's for sure. Sore throat, fever, coughing - not enjoyable for anyone around, that's for sure. I lost my appetite, which was a pity considering the HUGE portions of breakfast that came with our room. Granted, they weren't the tastiest examples of their kind. Still, I hate sending a plate off with stuff still on it.

Ferndale was a small town with lots of money, not a bucolic wilderness but one full of vitriol among its residents. We had a lively conversation one night with a gentleman who Mike reminded of his son, a new professor at Harvard under the age of 30 in statistical law. Wild. He wasn't from the town and had an outsider's view on gossip besides his own engaging stories to tell. And arguments to make. It was a diverting evening, but even so, we won't be returning to that spot.

But the redwoods when we were driving back in a misty rain - amazing. We hiked a little loop trail and were amazed at the grandeur, the silence, the sheer hugeness of the trees. It's the place I would go back to for spending more time for sure. Green, immense... beyond beautiful.

In our next episode: Film Noir fest. That'll finish out January's big fun. Stay tuned.

Happy holidays... yes, I'm late

This year marked my first real one in food during the holiday season. Coffee last year was busy, but not markedly different than the rest of the year. But macarons - oh my.

I sold a bunch of them. We sold out frequently. I was working seemingly all the time. My Christmas shopping took place mostly at local merchants mostly because I was doing it on my lunch breaks. Lots of cool locally made stuff out there though, so no complaints that I heard. Think I'm proudest of the the find, When French Women Cook, by Madeleine Kamman for my boss. A memoir about growing up in France and cooking, it also has a whole bunch of recipes including both US and metric measures. If you want to progress in a foreign language, find something you're interested in to try and read. It helps.

After a traditional Christmas Eve meal of nachos and watching funny shows, my house retired to sleep with visions of "a day off!" dancing in our heads. Nic headed down to LA for her family gathering a few days before, so Mike, Sarah, and I gathered around the tree in the morning (but not too early - Mike actually did wake up before 9 wanting to open presents but we can't get Sarah out of bed that early unless it's something like a fire. She regularly doesn't get home until after midnight from work, it's logical). Pot of tea at our side, we oohed and ahhed at the others treasure and then read our books some more. Restful.

The fun continued as we loaded ourselves and a bag of treats into a taxi and headed to Jaylan's house, our adopted aunt. I'd help her plan a bang up holiday party for Dec 12 (a roaring success on all counts - catered by Sally & Sarah, bartending by new friend Anthony, music by pianist Michael. Chocolate fountain, duck terrines, meatballs, cheeseballs, crab dip, the whole nine yards) and we had some leftovers carefully frozen for celebrating Christmas (though none of us are practicing Christians: I'd make some clever comment about Turks and Baha'is here but none spring to mind). So it was party dedux on a smaller scale of 4 - crab, cheeseballs, other snacks with bubbles (or not, as one liked). Sarah showed us how to make a bunch of lamb chops out of cooking a rack altogether; rich and delicious. The ladies took Jaylan's dog Ziggy (a hilarious Scottie with a prancing walk) out for a Christmas constitutional down to the waterfront and looked at all the tourists out looking themselves.

After our delicious candlelit dinner, we set up the projector and watched The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, one of the better movies I've seen in a long time. Bogart gives a realistic and gripping portrayal of man slowly going mad, a friend told me it's like a crime noir set in the mountains. That's it exactly. Perhaps a tad slow in the middle, but then the pace takes right back off again. I was pleasantly surprised at the ending - not cliché in the least and quite fitting wrap up. Watch it. The new Wallace and Gromit short wasn't near so good - I was disappointed.

It was a lovely day spent with lovely folks; seemed fitting to pause in the middle of the crazy season. In the next installment: New Year, New Travel Destination. Stay tuned!