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Posts from the ‘Food and Drink’ category

Seattle Ballard: Sunday Farmers Market

In Seattle, a friend in Ballard recommends a visit to their neighbourhood’s weekly farmers’ market. Despite the forecast for intermittent morning showers, I’m lured by any stroll through a market for bright harvest colours and freshly prepared food.

A slow meander through the stalls, letting curiosity be the guide. Fresh apples and pears here; ripe plump tomatoes there. From an assortment of red and yellow peppers; to an array of yellow and green gourds. Quickly, the appetite is on high alert. Quesadillas prepared fresh from the grill. Hot from the fryer, little donuts sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. Happy dogs walking their humans; couples strolling with children; others sitting on the curb for a chat, nosh, and sip.

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Santa Fé: fall colours, chile flavours

Above/featured: northbound on I-25 to Santa Fe – 8 Oct 2018 (6D1).

From different parts of the continent, we flew in and out of Santa Fé, which served admirably and comfortably as our base for a couple of day trips to Taos and Abiquiú (Georgia O’Keeffe Country). These would kick off our two-week drive through the American Southwest.

But Santa Fé is also important for these reasons:

• Established in 1610 as the seat of governance for province of New México within colonial territory Viceroyalty of New Spain.
• Oldest continuously inhabited state/territorial capital city in the continental United States.
• Near the northern terminus of 16th-century Spanish colonial Royal Road (Camino Real) from México City.
• Western terminus of the 19th-century pioneer Santa Fé Trail from Franklin, Missouri.
• Key destination in the original configuration of 20th-century highway US route-66.
• A delicious, flavourful, and spicy introduction to New Mexican cuisine.

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Seattle’s 1st Starbucks, 1971–1976

Above/featured: Exhibition “Edible City: A Delicious Journey” at MOHAI – Seattle, 8 Jan 2017 (6D1).

What: 1st Starbucks, in the Rhode Island building at the corner of Virginia & Western.
Where: A restaurant now, but no historical plaque or sign.
Why: 1st location between 1971 to 1976, as historical exercise.

Many write about and refer to the “original Starbucks” location in downtown Seattle. If they’re referring to the present location in Pike Place, that Starbucks outlet while the world’s oldest is not the first or original location.

So, what happened to Starbucks’ very first shop from 1971 to 1976?

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Albuquerque: highlights in the Duke City

To begin our journey through the American Southwest, one of our first destinations was the International Balloon Fiesta. The largest balloon festival in North America is held every October in Albuquerque, the most populous city in the American state of New Mexico. Located roughly in the centre of the state and bisected by two major interstate highways I-25 and I-40, Albuquerque has seen its fair share of human activity and history:

Inland trade road between Meso-America and southern Rocky Mountains, c. 1000 AD/CE.
El Camino Real de Tierra Adentro established between Mexico City and Santa Fe for the colony of New Spain.
City founded 1706 AD/CE, in a wooded area along the east bank of the Rio Grande river.
City named after Viceroy of New Spain who was the 10th Duke of Alburquerque; 1st ‘r’ dropped to ease spelling and pronunciation.
City population: over 560-thousand, metro area over 910-thousand.
City elevation, average: 1.6 kilometres (1.0 mile).
City shaped by Spanish presence, railroad, University of New Mexico, Route 66, Sandia National Laboratories, TV- & film-production.

Having arrived from our respective cities at sea-level, we needed about a day or two to adjust to 20% less atmosphere^# at the city’s mile-high elevation. Not only did the balloon festival exceed our expectations, we’re happy to share some of our favourite moments and places in and around “The Duke City”. With a limited number of days in the city, a rental car is the easiest way of getting around the city.

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My Heidelberg: 40+ Highlights from Home

Above/featured: From Philosophenweg: across the Neckar, over the Altstadt, and up to Königstuhl – 21 May 2016 (HL).

Heidelberg is “eine adoptierte Heimatstadt” (an adopted hometown). Some have called this place “scenic, natural, and spectacular”; some call it “boring, provincial, and extortionate”. I could be referring to Vancouver, but that’s a subject for another time.

I’ve long struggled with questions of place: what defines “home”? Can those definitions and qualities change with time? Do people have choice(s) and do they apply their choices in their search? Can people find meaning with “home”? Must “home” be restricted to only one place, or can different needs be met from different places?

Images can provide access to memories of having lived in a new country, experiencing the shock of the new, and settling into the mundane. I remember advice someone once gave me which became constant companion and reminder: that I was inhabiting a place at the same latitude as my birthplace, 8000 km in distance and 9 time zones apart on the other side of the planet, a place that’s seen its compact share of activity with flair and impact.

Most recall is naturally connected to sight. Occasionally, it’s a rush of the senses: the quick breeze on the skin, the ankle-spraining undulations of the cobblestone, how fog clings like a cold clammy cloak, the sing-song of birds among tall trees in the forest on the hill, the smell of grilled sausages in town by day, and the satisfying late-night noms of a spicy Dürüm Döner with a cool Ayran. And other times, human history leaps out and buries its claws, when the unthinkable must be acknowledged and understood in a synapsis of memory and senses.

In the autumn of 2001, I moved to Germany and Heidelberg: both sight unseen and without having learned any of the language. I stayed in town for a little under two years. What’s astonishing is I have no pictorial record of my time in Heidelberg, Germany, and Europe: I had no camera before the dawn of the smart-phone.

I have some great memories, even if time is casting long shadows. What I lost (no, gave away) was some part of me that actually has little to do with the “Schlager” hit song “Ich hab mein Herz in Heidelberg verloren“. It might be a piece of the heart, a part of the soul, or simply a scrap of good sense; but what it is precisely still remains undefined and shapeless. Finding solid answers about what I’ve surrendered might take years. And so, for the sake of clarity, I’ve returned many times since leaving town in 2003. A sharper focus comes through the post-departure blur whenever I step off the train in town.

I couldn’t have possibly known the experience of moving to and living in Heidelberg would be life-changing. Time so far has been kind, because it didn’t take long for me to adopt Heidelberg as “home”.

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