crisis! and Jesus prefers Chardonnay.

OK.

With my mouth still tasting of sautéed shallots from lunch at Bouchon, I have had a very scary revelation. Perhaps I am still reeling from too much vino – though I don’t think so. So, ok, I was sitting on my futon reading (for the 4th time) Yvain, a French 12th century romance by Chrétien de Troyes. Yvain the knight has gone mad, is running around the forest naked and eating raw game. He runs across a hermit’s house, and the hermit puts out bread and water for Yvain to eat. The text says, approximately: “I don’t think that he had ever tasted bread that was so course or so hard; the flour with which it was made certainly didn’t cost more than 20 sous, because it was more bitter than levain bread” (ll. 2844-48). And I said to Matt, isn’t it funny how different people’s conception of food is now? Whole wheat and other hard grains used to be considered low-class, but now they’re all the rage. White bread with refined flour is out; Acme bakery provides levain bread to all of the fanciest restaurants. And this has just changed in the past 50 years or so. (Not to mention Yvain’s raw meat – carpaccio, sushi, anyone?) And then I got to thinking. And then it hit me.

I want to be a culinary historian. I can study food – the changing attitudes towards food across time; food as a cultural marker. (Has this been done? I don’t know – certainly not more than the Battle of Brunanburgh has been, though, right?) Of course, my first reaction is, “I can’t.” I can’t – I can’t just up and switch disciplines, get new advisors, do “food” seriously, etc. And Matt says I can – I can. (?) I love food. Do I love medieval literature in the same way?

Earlier today during the car ride to Napa, I started wondering what kind of wine Jesus changed the water into at the wedding feast at Cana. I was trying to think what grape varietals are native to the Middle East. It suddenly dawned on me – Jesus probably changed it into white. In all the depictions I think it’s red, but that’s not right. White would resemble the water (especially in the opaque clay jars) and that explains why the wine steward has to taste it to know – he can’t tell by looking (John 2:9). (That, of course, means that the liquid is substantially wine but accidentally resembles water – hellooo Eucharistic connection!)

Was that a premonition? Fuck. Can I change disciplines? [Matt’s a bad person to talk about this; he went from early-modern alchemy in Germany to the Dutch East Indies Company in Indonesia. Not to mention his consulting leanings.]

You know, we’re not going to get jobs anyway, so it doesn’t really matter what I do, does it?

yum...ooof.

Today Matt and I went to Napa Valley! Yay!! First we went to the Domaine Carneros winery -- which means we had yummy champagne tastings! and then yummy pinot noir tastings! and then we had lunch reservations at Bouchon, a French bistro-type place which is affiliated with the French Laundry (but cheaper). There we had even more wine, and yummy food. And more wine. And more food. And then we decided not to go to any more wineries.

kiss me, I'm (now) Irish!

OK, a belated St. Patrick's Day post to be sure, but I wanted to acquire a picture first. In January, I dyed my hair red. Copper red. (It looked HOT! ...until it faded out.) Two weeks ago, upon the threat of my grandmother's 88th birthday gathering, I got my hair redone in more of a strawberry blonde-y red, which astounded all of my relatives. But what was even more of a coup was fooling real live Celticists at the 27th Annual California Celtic Studies Conference the week after.



Me and cousins and Grandma... 


Now Sarah doesn't look so out of place!  



Grandma cuts it up at 88.  


(Restaurant link of the day: I was in charge of catering and the banquet for the conference, which was held at very yummy Cafe de la Paz.)

I think I'm going to find a new personality.

Looking at this month's (April) Vogue makes me wonder why I don't just give it all up and emulate Drew Barrymore (cover, pgs. 308-23) and local Berkeley celebrity Alice Waters (pgs. 374-77). I mean, can't I form my own production company, make fabulous kick-ass girl movies starring my best friends Cameron Diaz and Lucy Liu? Can't I include in my list of dreams writing a short story and making documentaries? Oh, and not to mention fulfill every girl's fantasy by starring in that feminist fairy-tale remake Ever After -- the themes of which are beautifully captured in the Vogue photospread where Drew models gorgeous foofy silk organza gowns (all in shades of pink) in sumptuous fairy-tale tableau shots inspired by Beauty and the Beast (obviously the Cocteau version...)? (Er, not that I ever saw Ever After, because it was waaaay past my princess days ... *cough cough*...!)

Or as for Alice Waters -- can't I single-handedly inaugurate a new national food trend with my four star restaurant, support local farmers and organic produce, pen numerous amazing cookbooks and even publish a children's book (eat your heart out, Madonna!)? Maybe while I'm at it, I can begin to renovate the public school cafeteria system and encourage children to eat good food? In the meantime, I can attend parties and rub shoulders with Arnold and somehow manage to speak with Bill Clinton.

I mean, hell, I managed to make pork chops last night!*

I think Vogue is instilling in the public reader (i.e. me) a real sense of inadequacy. I mean, I get the highbrow ironic allusions in the literary articles. I recognize Cindy Sherman in the Marc Jacobs ad (!). I care about organic produce and Tuscan villas, and I admire the sophistication and design of couture. And yet, I will never, ever, EVER be able to attain even the smallest ounce of any other kind of participation except vicarious in this strange world of Hamptons parties, Hermes scarves, and Chanel. All I can do is occasionally splurge at the makeup counters and buy fake LV and Prada handbags from Senegalese men in Italy.

It only makes it worse that Matt has apparently both attended parties in the Hamptons and danced with Paris Hilton. (for about 8 seconds.)

This is all brought on because it's my Spring Break and and my goal is to read a book a day. (Voicing this to Matt, after hearing me rant about Drew and Alice, he says "maybe that's why you don't have any life experience.") At least the books are about my medieval giants, sex, monsters, marginalia, idol worship, and stuff like that.

~~

*actually, they were pretty good, and involved a sweet onion and dry vermouth cream sauce.

the reason I haven't updated my blog recently is...

this: www.ocf.berkeley.edu/~gmb.