Tag Archives: William Lawson

Merida Slow Food – Some Photos from this Morning

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I have already written about the Slow Food market, but I thought I would upload some photos of the food from this mornings visit to the GringoFest that is the Mercado Slow Food in Merida. Lots and lots of familiar faces, from my international artist buddy Katherine to local celebrity Mrs Campos to my new bud Reg. Also some new ones and even the occasional Yucateco (walking around saying “pero que es ESTO?”) among the palefaces. The word needs to get out to the local foodies that this market even exists so they can come and partake of the excellent selection of organic and gourmet items on sale.

Enjoy the photos.

Finally, some good news about Mexico – The Washington Post

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

For those of you who read my neurotic ramblings – and I know you are out there – and haven’t seen this, here is a link to an article from my pal Edith over at the Washington Post that summarized what a lot of us who live here feel about the place. A little sugary for me, but still, better than yet another report on a narco-beheading, a hotel exploding or a tourist losing an actual arm and a leg to a real shark (as opposed to those tourists who attend the “free” breakfast and lose a virtual arm and a leg to the time share cetaceans)

The link is here:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2011/03/02/AR2011030205529.html

Enjoy.

A Message From the Queen to the U.S.A

Inspired, Nada que Ver, Politics, ,

Just had this sent to me on Facebook and thought it worthy of republication here. God Save the Queen.

Subject: A Message from Queen Elizabeth To the citizens of the United States of America from Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

In light of your failure in recent years to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately. (You should look up ‘revocation’ in the Oxford English Dictionary.) Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas, which she does not fancy).

Your new Prime Minister, Mr Cameron, will appoint a Governor for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.

To aid in the transition to a British Crown dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. The letter ‘U’ will be reinstated in words such as ‘colour,’ ‘favour,’ ‘labour’ and ‘neighbour.’ Likewise, you will learn to spell ‘doughnut’ without skipping half the letters, and the suffix ‘-ize’ will be replaced by the suffix ‘-ise.’ Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (look up ‘vocabulary’).

2. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as ”like’ and ‘you know’ is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. There is no such thing as U.S. English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take into account the reinstated letter ‘u” and the elimination of ‘-ize.’

3. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.

4. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you’re not quite ready to be independent. Guns should only be used for shooting grouse. If you can’t sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist, then you’re not ready to shoot grouse.

5. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. Although a permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

6. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left side with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

7. The former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline) of roughly $10/US gallon. Get used to it.

8. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.

9. The cold, tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. South African beer is also acceptable, as they are pound for pound the greatest sporting nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of the British Commonwealth – see what it did for them. American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat’s Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion.

10. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters. Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one’s ears removed with a cheese grater.

11. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies).

12. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.1% of you are aware there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries.

13. You must tell us who killed JFK. It’s been driving us mad.

14. An internal revenue agent (i.e. Tax collector) from Her Majesty’s Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).

15. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 p.m. with proper cups, with saucers, and never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; plus strawberries (with cream) when in season.

God Save the Queen!

El Pez Gordo – Monterrey Style Seafood in Merida – This One’s a Keeper!

Casual Restaurant Critic, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

After a recent – and stomach stretching – visit to the Casual Restaurant Critics favorite Merida sushi restaurant, Miyabi, who continue to remain in the running for the Slowest Waiter in Merida Oscar, the Better Half pointed out a new restaurant right next door, called El Pez Gordo (literally, the big fish) which looked very eclectic and hip. The Critic and BH popped inside for a better look and wow! The place looks amazing; a funky bar counter covered in colorful broken tile, plenty of mirrors, themed vinyl decorations and phrases on the wall and loud rock music and the most friendly of owners, who hails from Chiapas but lived in Monterrey and wanted to bring some of that cuisine to Merida.

Seafood in Monterrey you ask? Yes, and the Critic reviewed the fabulous Pacifica restaurant there.

Today, it was the El Pez Gordos turn for a visit and the food did not disappoint! Not at all, not even close. It was amazingly delicious and fresh; nothing like yet another seafood restaurant with the same old tired creations.

To start, a warm shrimp broth in a little cup to open up the stomach and get the gastric juices flowing. Then, three scrumptious appetizers and three orders of delectable seafood tacos for the Critic and his beloved Better Half washed down with an icy Coke and a spicy Michelada were enough to convince both that this was their new favorite seafood restaurant in Merida!

First up was a mixed seafood ceviche, featuring shrimp, fish, calamar and octopus soaked and cooked in lime juice. The twist here was that there was also mango, jicama and pineapple chunks in that ceviche! Refreshingly cool and different and very good. Then, a pair of calamares stuffed with shrimp, cooked in a very spicy tomato-y sauce and served on a bed of guacamole. Hot, spicy and bursting with flavor, these were the best of the three appies. The third appetizer was a crunchy corn tostada topped with a smoked tuna and mayo salad and garnished with raw red cabbage. Unusual and pretty to look at, but the tuna was a little overpowered by the mayo, although I would order this dish again without hesitation if it wasn’t for the fact that there are a hundred more little items on the menu that need to be sampled first.

The tacos were delicious and the Critic cannot, unfortunately, recall their names, but one that stands out even now, several hours later, was a shrimp, chorizo, onion and tomato concoction that came in a melted cheese tortilla. That’s right, a melted cheese “tortilla” and it was absolutely fantastic.

Service today was a little on the slow side, but not as bad as our friends next door. And the bill? About 13 dollars per person for the meal described. Highly recommended!!


– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Comforting Rituals – and a Dilemma

Casual Restaurant Critic, Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , , , ,

Of all the comforting rituals that us humans take part in, a great proportion of them involve food, I would guess.

Here’s mine.

I come home hungry and without too many ‘ganas‘ to cook anything (rare, but it happens) and my eyes, scanning like the Terminator through the offerings visible in my fridge, rest upon a Ziploc bag containing brown kraft paper that is coddling a quarter of a chunk of Monique’s fabulous sourdough bread, made right here in the formerly white city of Merida. This is what I am craving.

Removing the spongy, dark crusted bread from it’s hiding place I slice thick chunks (I have been known to simply tear at the loaf) and pop them into the toaster, pushing the slices down since they are so thick that the toaster is gagging.

While the aroma of freshly baked bread wafts into my kitchen, I take a soup bowl and pour myself a healthy portion of olive oil. There are plenty of olive oils now available in Merida, some Spanish, others Italian and even others still of the gourmet variety from God knows where. For my purposes, however, I need the Costco jug, since it is the only one that can keep up with my consumption and still offer more the next day.

The bread is toasty and warm and my fingers burn as I move the slices to a plate.

Ripping off chunks of warm bread, I plop them into the bowl and push down hard to get all the oil I can into the pores of the sourdough. Then I pop the dripping mess into my mouth. Nirvana!

The dilemma comes when I no longer have any olive oil in the bowl into which to stick my dwindling bread stock. So I pour in some more and you know what happens; the bread runs out and I still have olive oil to soak up! So back to the remainder of the loaf, slicing and heating until a critical moment when both bread and oil are depleted and my craving is sated.

Here’s to the olive pressers but here’s even more to Monique, who bakes this stuff and offers it to the public every Saturday morning at the Slow Food market right here in Merida. Go this weekend; you’ll be so glad you did!

Offended Mexicans vs BBC Comedy

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, Nada que Ver, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I received an interesting article on the BBC/Mexico scandal in my junk-infested inbox this morning from my dear Better Half, who in turn received it from a friend whose acerbic wit and online social commentary on life in Merida was often the target for xenophobic hate mail accusing her of being *gasp* a critical wach, of all things.

The Milenio article (available in Spanish here) commented on the recent scandal involving the BBC’s program Top Gear, in which the comedy troupe said stereotypical things about Mexicans which apparently, caused the Mexican ambassador to England to feel such distress that he fired off an official protest letter to the government denouncing the show and its “xenophobic” remarks.

The author at Milenio says, in a nutshell, that everyone that is ‘offended’ by the program should take a look at themselves and the discrimination, racism and lack of tolerance perpetrated every single day in this country, by Mexicans.

Also interesting is the debate below the article. I think the author makes a good point. What do you think?

Hey Dad, there’s a spider on your back…

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, , , ,

Reading Claudette Elizondos account on FaceBook of how her backyard was invaded recently by a host of locusts, known locally as langostas, I was reminded of the time I came home with my daughters and, after parking in the garage, unlocking the door and walking into the kitchen, daughter 1 casually announced “Hey Dad, there’s a spider on your back”.

“So swipe it off” I reply, equally casual, making a swiping movement in the air to demonstrate the technique.

“It’s a big spider” replies my observant and not-to-be-ruffled daughter, who evidently has ice in her veins. “I don’t want to touch it” she adds. Daughter 2 looks on in disgust.

Now I am starting to wonder what the hell is crawling around on my back.

I take a spatula from that ceramic pot where we keep our utensils. “Here, use this” I say, handing it to her. She looks hesitant and I raise my voice. “Knock the spider off my back, OK?”

She takes a moment and then, in one swing, manages to dislodge what I can now see is a rather huge tarantula that lands on the kitchen floor with what I am sure is a thud, although it could have been my imagination firing away upon registering the size of the black hairy beast.

Without much ado, and thankful that here in Merida we don’t have that North American habit of removing our shoes upon entering our house, I quickly stomp on it and the spiders life comes to an abrupt, squishy end.

“Yuck” say my daughters.

I thank her and go off in search of a broom.

Bryans – The Newest Trotter Restaurant

Casual Restaurant Critic, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Por fin, as they say around here, the Casual Restaurant Critic got his critical butt into a comfortable seat at Bryans, the latest and greatest in the Trotters chain here in sunny Merida.

For those of you unfamiliar with Trotters (no relation to Charlie in Chicago) the Trotters have several first-rate restaurants here in Merida; there’s Panchos downtown catering to the tourist crowd as well as those interested in picking up tourists who have overdone it on the excellent margaritas there; there’s La Tratto, an upscale and always popular trattoria located on the Prolongacion (del Paseo de) Montejo; the relatively new self-named Trotters, just down the street from the Burger King fountain (hey, that’s what it’s called around here) off Montejo which quickly became the benchmark for Merida restaurants trying to create the perfect dining room and now Bryans, which is even swankier than Trotters.

The menu at Bryans appears to be similar to that of Trotters, at least at first glance. There are some meats, some salads and some soups, as well as some desserts that all appear to be a continuation (or evolution) of items seen on the Trotters menu. The feel of the place? One certainly does not feel as if one is in Merida at least for a little while. There is an impeccable open kitchen, filled with industrious chefs and their helpers working away, polished stone and dark wood finishes throughout, enormous floor-to-ceiling open windows/doors, an upstairs wine attic visible from the dining area below, subdued lighting throughout and the huge terrace outside for those who enjoy a little nicotine with their dinner. Perhaps a little less formal than Trotters, but a whole lot more elegantly hip, this restaurant has to be seen to be believed and is filled nightly with Meridas beautiful people who know nothing of an economic crisis, thank you very much. The Critic, in spite of not being one of the beautiful people, was accompanied by his beautiful Better Half and so had an excuse for being there and visited Bryans at lunchtime, just before the rush.

Food ordered included a Parisian burger, medium rare and others in the party ordered the pork filet, which appeared to look more like a fat chop, served with a barbecue sauce. The smallish burger was very tasty and the Parisian part consisted of the sauteed mushrooms and onions on the meat and the small size of the platter turned out to be just right – not too much, not too little. The other members of the party commented that their pork was delicious. For desserts, the fantatic tiramisu cheesecake and a berry tart that the Better Half recalled as having been served to her warm on a previous visit. This time it was not warm, but straight out of the fridge. Coffee was excellent , aromatic nd fresh, individually made to order for each person.

The food, at least to this cantankerous Critic, although good, was not as mind blowing as he had expected. Unlike the recent meal at Hennessy’s, which blew the Critic away, this was fine, but nothing that the Critic would say exceeded expectations.

On a nit-picky note, the servers were friendly and plentiful, although large gaps appeared between their visits to the table and in spite of many of them just circling around, including supervisors. They could have been a little more attentive to the table at crucial moments, such as ordering desserts, refilling coffee, when it came time to ask for the bill, that sort of thing. Another detail which stood out in this immaculately beautiful dining room was the fact that the drinks were served not on a coaster with a funky design, but on a servilleta Lys, folded in half. One must assume that the printer is working frantically on those coasters as the limp wet napkin hardly does justice to the obvious care and attention paid to every other detail.

So, while the Critic would jump at the chance to return to Hennessy’s to sample more of their menu and enjoy a frosty Guiness, Bryans did not evoke that feeling. But go and visit the place yourself, and drink in the terrific ambience and then form your own opinion.

Things to look forward to as I age (can’t wait)

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, Nada que Ver, , , , , , , , ,

While this particular blog entry has absolutely nothing to do with Life in Merida from the Neurotic Foregners POV, the aging process is, nevertheless, a universal topic among members of my social circle and one with which I becoming increasingly familiar.

I look forward to becoming technologically impaired; that decisive moment when I decide that whatever technology is ‘new’ and therefore incomprehensible to me and just dismiss it as ‘stupid’ is a moment that will inevitably come, especially given the grade of neurosis I already posess. The new ‘FaceBook’ of the future will seem to me to be an invasion of privacy and just ridiculous and I won’t be able to figure out what the hell it’s good for, if anything. I will refuse to engage in conversation with my offspring, who will attempt to convince me of the benefits of adopting the new technology, that I have nothing to fear, that it is a good way to see what the grandchildren are up to. My derision will be accompanied by much shaking of my grey-haired head and moving my right hand from an over the shoulder and near my right ear position to a below the waist position (with an open palm, facing downward). These two actions will be taken while walking away from the person I am supposedly having a conversation with.

I look forward to not comprehending the significance of the future version of the CC button on the future equivalent of emails. I will complain therefore, in my self-pitying way, that it is craaaazy that people cannot communicate with each other normally and that I don’t understand if I just sent an email to one person that all the others didn’t get the message. I will not see that adding another email address in the future equivalent of the “TO” field on an email is not really that difficult and that I don’t have to go out in the winter cold, chop down a tree, put up a satellite dish and install another computer to send several emails at once.

I also look forward to forgetting how to spell my offsprings or their significant others names. To me, it’s all the same and I won’t understand the fuss and how could that tiny triviality possibly be any indicator of the depth of my feelings for that person or the significant other in question. Why are they all so grumpy, I will ask myself.

I anticipate (and this is already happening) abhorring (is it one R or two?) social engagements where loud music and loud conversation at too-large tables result in me staring abjectly at the people across the table, with whom I am unable to communicate beyond the occasional raised eyebrow and shoulder movements resembling dejected shrugs. The volume will put me in a foul mood that only a hasty exit to a more quiet environment can remedy, thereby forfeiting my right, should I be in Merida, to the lukewarm catered meal served at midnight as a strategy to keep us old folks hostage beyond the time we would normally tolerate the assault on our nervous system.

I will cope with and accept the increasing limits that aging puts on my body, from the newly discovered impossibility of climbing on the roof to enter my home when I have forgotten the house key, to the pain in my finger joints when I try writing as a method of communication as opposed to a keyboard (which funnily enough produces no such irritation).

There are many more things I look forward to as I reach the ripe old age of a half-century, and many of those will be positive I am sure. But this morning, I felt compelled to write about some of the less-than-stellar moments that I can look forward to (and I haven’t even touched on the GI tract).

Happy 2011!

Merry Christmas to All and to All a Prosperous 2011

Life in the Yucatan, , , , ,

Posting as the Neurotic Foreigner, I have been blessed with a small but loyal readership and many of you seem to enjoy my often ascerbic comments on life here in the Yucatan. While it would seem that my writings are often less than flattering, I would remind readers that mostly these are written with the intent to be somewhat humorous (Canadian spelling) and that the viewpoints are those of an admittedly neurotic foreigner and that I really do love it here. I would also like to take this opportunity to wish each and every one of you a happy Christmas and wish you all peace and decent health in the coming year. And thank you to those of you who care enough to comment now and then!

Recent developments in the Riviera Maya/Cancun area what with the gangs and news of Tony Soprano-style extortions do not bode well for the future of the area and it is my sincere wish and hope that this desintegration of the fabric of Mexican society does not spread to this last bastion of relative calm and tranquility that is the state of Yucatan. Of course there are the political battles but these are unfortunately par for the course in this country and albeit unsettling, are not nearly as threatening as the violence and fear that are so commonplace now in many parts of the country. Yucatan is still a fantastic place to live and work.

Merry Christmas to all! Feliz Navidad a todos!!