The roasting box they used is called a La Caja. It's insulated, it has aluminum walls, and you set the coals on top. A La Caja cuts the roasting time in half (down to 4 hours in this case) but still requires a lot of charcoal (set on top of the box, not underneath) -- about 40-50 lbs total I think. At one point they removed the charcoal top and set it on the driveway while basting the pig, and the driveway's tar started to melt. Wow.

But seeing the whole process gave me confidence in roasting a big animal, should the need arise. Sure, you need some outdoor space, a bathtub to brine it in, a big work table to cut it on, and a lot of people around to eat it, but otherwise it's just like a chicken!

Blog, you don't have to worry.

See, here I am. Eating, all safe and warm and happy.

Lentil soup Winnie made tonight

Smoked turkey drumstick and cheese on Balthazar's raisin-walnut bread

My version of pasta with Bittman's double sun-dried tomato sauce

Eggs baked into a baguette

Karl's amazing & simple tofu satay

Broiled trout with ginger

And Winnie's huge corned beef -n- veggie dinner on St. Patrick's day

I will write more often, Blog. I promise. Now that we're finally settling into our new home, I will try to make more time for you. You are special to me. I'm sorry.

Love,
Carl

See also: Dear Rabbit and Dear Microwave via Get In My Belly.

Frontline: Bush's War

Bittman's jamaican rice & beans, chicken & turkey sausage, red chard with soy sauce, and basil/goat cheese/tomato salad.

• dice and roast a parsnip and 3 yams at 425° for 20-30 minutes, shaking occasionally
• meanwhile, saute 3 shallots, finely chopped
• add chicken broth, bay leaf, thyme, and a bunch of kale, chopped small
• bring to a boil, simmer for 15 minutes.
• add roasted vegetables, 3 cloves whole garlic, and a can of great northern beans
• season with salt & pepper and simmer for 10 more minutes to blend flavors.
• garnish with shredded beets
• enjoy with buttered baguette bits

What more do you need, right? So you can imagine my surprise when I saw exactly how much you could screw up this simple, elegant solution. I spotted this in a gas station in Crescent City, California a couple months ago:

The designers of this microwave really went the extra mile to be helpful. Instead of the usual numbers showing how much time you're dialing in, which are just so confusing, they used letters! What a novel approach. And they provided a handy heating guide below the dial that maps the letters A through S to different foods you might want to cook. The guide evokes nostalgia, too. It is sure to bring a tear to the eye of anyone who remembers when we all subsisted on hamburgers, microwave popcorn, hots dogs, and pizza, before burritos and sushi ruthlessly invaded the culture of single-handed eating.

But the table is still quite applicable in today's convenience stores, and the nice thing about this letter dial design is that the convenience store owner could augment the table with her own sign listing additional convenience store foods that were invented after this microwave. You know, "for Hot Pockets, dial F. For Easy Mac, dial H..."

But the bad thing about this dial design is that it sucks. Even in 1981, when some people were surely confused about how long it takes these magical ovens to cook common foods, they did not need letters on the dial. The letters only add myth to the magic. Here we have a new and exciting technology in our culture, and people honestly want to know how it works and how long things take to cook in it. But if all they remember is to dial E for their hamburger, they are not learning anything. This dial encourages a whole new mental model for microwaving that is redundant, confusing, and, worst of all, proprietary.

Now, I will admit this is a very old microwave, made during the "wild west" days of microwave oven dial design, an era when we still hadn't reached consensus, an era of wild experimentation and lots of illicit drug use. And I am thankful that they used letters and not arbitrary numbers. But I still think they should have known better.

The saving grace is that there are smaller time indicators. You know, for compatibility with other microwaves.

Oh, you might have noticed one other thing. The dial markings are backwards! They go counter-clockwise, so when the microwave is off, you read "S, R, Q, P, O..." from left to right. I struggled with this for a minute, because you do actually turn this dial to the right, just like most other dials. But the difference with this dial is that the letters are actually marked on the dial itself, which is uncommon, and the indicator for which letter you're on is in the space outside the dial.

Put another way, which of these kitchen timers would you rather use?

My brother Daniel leads a band called The Silver Seas, which has seen a lot of press after their recent name change (from The Bees (U.S.)) and the re-release of their album High Society on the Cheap Lullaby label. They scored a glowing review over at Cool Hunting, and AMG (Allmusic) calls the album "A stunning achievement." If you're in Nashville by chance, you should come see the Seas at the Basement this or and next Wednesday night. You won't regret it.

Update 12/14: A long interview with my brother at Puremusic.

The apache config for Leopard is in /etc/apache2/httpd.conf, and to turn on virtual hosting you must uncomment line 461, which includes /private/etc/apache2/extra/httpd-vhosts.conf. While you're at it, if you need PHP, uncomment line 114.

Then edit httpd-vhosts.conf. I wanted to still be able to use the Mac's default DocumentRoot for requests on localhost, but turning on virtual hosting in Apache 2.2 disables the server-wide DocumentRoot and ServerName, and the first virtual host you define becomes the default instead. Here's what I needed in order to get my specific name-based virual hosts working:

#
# Use name-based virtual hosting.
#
NameVirtualHost *:80

#
# VirtualHost example:
# Almost any Apache directive may go into a VirtualHost container.
# The first VirtualHost section is used for all requests that do not
# match a ServerName or ServerAlias in any <VirtualHost> block.
#
<VirtualHost *:80>
  DocumentRoot "/Library/WebServer/Documents"
</VirtualHost>

<VirtualHost *:80>
  ServerName myrailsapp.biz
  ProxyPass / http://127.0.0.1:3000/  
</VirtualHost>

<VirtualHost *:80>
  ServerName wpclient.com
  DocumentRoot "/Library/WebServer/Documents/wpclient.com"
</VirtualHost>

This configuration should work for multiple virtual hosts, but for me it wasn't totally successful until after restarting the system—a simple "sudo apachectl graceful" didn't do the trick. It may be that I also modified /etc/hosts and the system wasn't fully assimilating my changes. Also, since I had upgraded from Tiger, my user-specific configuration files had moved, so my userdir (http://localhost/~carl/) stopped working! The fix for this was:

sudo cp /etc/httpd/users/* /etc/apache2/users/

I love to play Scrabble. One thing I've noticed as I've gotten better at it is that many new Scrabble players start out with a broken model about how to win. People start out wanting to make long words, because naturally long words are good. It is assumed that if you're a grammarian or amanuensis, you'll naturally be good at Scrabble. But Scrabble is not about making long words, it's about strategically placed, usually mundane words. In Scrabble, a well-placed two-letter word can score points in the upper 30s, while a beautiful looking 6- or 7-letter word may only score 10 or 15 points. Furthermore, Scrabble draws from a very specific grammar that Scrabble players memorize and that's really pretty useless in everyday life. Unless you're a civil engineer in the Middle East, you probably don't talk about qanats very often. But if you're a Scrabble player, this is a word you should know, because it may provide a brilliant play one day when you have a Q and no U. Who cares what it means.

Similarly, in Pac-Man, many people start out with the idea that success means gobbling up all those dots so you can reach another level in the game. It is so natural to want to do this. It doesn't matter where you live or what language you speak—the first time you sit down at Pac-Man, you'll probably be unable to suppress your desire to eat all the dots. But Pac-Mac is not about dots or levels, it's about points! The levels are a trick. The real goal of Pac-Mac is to creatively lure the ghosts into one of the corners where you can eat them all up quickly after using a power pellet and score lots of points. If your focus is on this goal, the dots will take care of themselves. And if you can eat all sixteen ghosts on each level, then you're on your way to a high score.

Not that Pac-Man and Scrabble are the only examples. Every skill has its broken initial models that lay waiting for the unsuspecting beginner. As people gain experience, they continually build, test, and rebuild mental models. I think this is why people who are very good at something will know it, because they have insight into their past incompetence.

Renting an apartment in New York is an emotionally and financially draining experience that we're in the midst of. Before Thanksgiving, we spent a week in New York and came out without a lease—though we have a place to stay in January. But we have learned so much, and as part of my personal reflection on the week, I wanted to write up some tips for securing an apartment in New York, even though we haven't succeeded yet.

I remember, midway through the week, getting a call from an agent who was showing a 1BR in Park Slope, Brooklyn. At the time, we were looking at another place nearby, and when we called him back later he said it was already gone. "A woman walked in earlier," he said, "she saw the place and paid the whole year's rent up front in cash." Lesson one: In the heat of battle, always answer the phone, even if you think it's rude to talk to one agent while being shown a place by another. Feel free to walk away in the middle of a showing if you think something better has come up and won't last. And if you're using brokers, go to as many agencies as you can, meet some brokers you like, get their card, and call them every morning to see what's happening.

Of course, someone with a year's rent up front in cash is hard to compete with. But since so many apartments are constantly turning over, a patient, dedicated person who can commit full-time hours to the task will eventually get what they want.

And at some point along the way, you will most definitely encounter many agents. In New York, there are three kinds of rental agents, each obligated by law to act on someone's behalf: the landlord, the tenant, or both (the Judge Judy of agents). The vast majority of agents are landlord's agents—gatekeepers between potential tenants and the landlord. Here's the kicker. If you are renting through a landlord's agent, you will pay them upwards of 15% of your annual rent so that they can represent the landlord's best interests. This is like going to court and paying for the other side's lawyer when you win the case. We're not talking about small change here, either -- on a $1,500 one bedroom, 15% of the rent is $2,700. They may be great people—we met some wonderful landlord's agents in Brooklyn—but when it comes to the real business of drawing up and signing a lease, their undivided loyalty is to the landlord. You can pay a tenant's agent to find a place for you and be loyal to you, though, and I'm still not sure whether that means you could pay a fee twice, or whether the two agents would then agree to split a fee. (Does anyone know?)

Here's my reconstruction of a conversation with a dual agent after seeing a place we liked.

Us: "We really like the place -- what's the rent again?"
Manager: "$1,600/month"
Us: "And what do we have to do to hold it?"
Manager: "Well, you can fill out an application. Here's one."
Us: "Oh, who owns the building? Your office owns it, right?"
Manager: "Yeah, but the landlord is out on vacation for the next two weeks."
Us: "Oh, one more thing. We saw one of the tenants outside the building, and we talked to them for a second. They told us they pay $1,500 a month for their 1BR, so why is this place listed at $1,600?"
Manager: "Because $1,600 is the price of this unit."
Us: "But why?"
Manager: *scowls* "Because the landlord wants $1,600 per month."
Us: "Why does the landlord want $1,600 per month when others are paying $1,500?"
Manager: "OK listen, first of all, you're not getting the apartment. Second, let me show you something."
Manager hacks away at his computer for a second.
Manager: "Here's someone in that building who is paying $1,825 a month for their 1 bedroom. For the unit you're looking at, the landlord requires me to collect six applications from qualified people for this apartment, and then they will choose someone from those. You are the first two people to see it. But I can tell you right now that you're not getting the place."
Us: "Why not?!?"
Manager: "Because you're being difficult with me."
Us: "We're not being difficult. Look, our interest is in fairness, that's why we're asking these questions."
Manager: "You're going out and talking to other tenants about what they pay. Look, why don't you guys just move along, OK?"
Us: "Really? But we are great tenants, we have great credit, we have references, and we love the place. Can't we just fill out an application?"
Manager: "OK, listen, I'm a dual agent, OK? Do you know what a dual agent is? It means I am bound by law to act in the best interest of both the landlord and the tenant. So I have to be impartial. I'll let you fill out an application. We require first and last month's rent, a security deposit, and 10% of the annual rent as a realtor fee up front (this totals $6720). There's also a $50 credit check fee for each of you, if we decide to do credit checks."
Us: "But we have our own credit reports that we've printed out."
Manager: "Well, I'll look at what you have..."
We fill out the rest of the application in silence.
Us: "We have to go pick up all our documentation. We'll bring it back later."
Manager: "OK, well, if you have to..."

We leave, knowing we're not getting the place, but having learned a lot. It was a great conversation, because it reinforced a few more apartment-hunting lessons:

• Talk to the owner or property manager, go into their office. Is this a good person? This is the person we'll be asking to fix our hot water heater later. Will they use the "you're being difficult" line then? One management office had, for reasons I still don't understand, a huge road sign just inside their front door that said, "GO AWAY." You don't have to ask me twice.
• Know the market well, so you can walk in and know that a place is overpriced. "What? $1,600 for this utility closet?"
• Be careful about when you bring up the price. In the future, we might be better off talking price after we've submitted an application but before we sign a lease. However, my guess is that since he's taking six applications, his plan is to play them off each other and get as much as possible for the place. For every tenant who is diligent about getting fair market value, there will be one who's willing to pay something way beyond the listed price. Thus the $1,850 tenant. That's their perfect tenant. So while you're at it,
• Forget about the places that need to take six applications. You want a place where they're ready to move as soon as someone good comes through the door and hands them a few hundred bucks.
• Don't fall in love with it until the deal is done. I guess this is true of any deal, but this is really hard for apartments, because when you see a place you like, you start picturing where your fern will go and thinking about how you will get coffee at that cute cafe around the corner on Sunday mornings.
• $100 for credit checks?! I can check my credit for free, so I'd rather give them a copy of my credit report. Cursory googling found credit check websites for landlords that cost around $10 per person, probably more like $5 if you subscribe to a regular credit check service.
• Bring all your documentation with you, all the time, everywhere. You must be ready to make a deal. You will want to bring identification, a copy of a recent credit report, a reference letter from a past landlord, a copy of pay stubs and W-2s and anything else that shows you make a stable income, $500 or so in cash for a deposit, your checkbook, a pen, a knife, and a fifty rock of cocaine. If you're a freelancer, musician, poet, dancer, or barista, you really have to go the distance here: resume, past invoices, work references, etc. If you're in school or have poor credit, you'll probably need a guarantor—have them ready to sign at the blink of a FAX. If you have an unmarried partner, a copy of a past lease showing that you've lived together for a while could be helpful.
• My ideal is to rent directly from an owner, preferably someone who lives right on the premises. This can work well if you're an owner, too, because you get to meet potential tenants, establish rapport, and show them that you're around and that you care about the place—making them less likely to install their 3-story beer funnel next to the downspout.

I really have to make these more often. A tart is simple to make, delicious, and for some reason it looks like an impressive feat. But with all that butter, it's hard to screw up. The only goal is to deliver a crispy, flaky crust, and as long as the butter stays cold until the tart hits the oven, you're home free.

Unfortunately, my standards for these things are way too high. It was the apple tart at L. Poilâne in Paris that spoiled me. A melt-in-your-mouth, gorgeous flakey pastry, baked over a wood fire like their breads. Absolutely omg wtf delicious, and it wasn't just Paris's psychological effect on the taste buds.

Having travelled so far in such short time, I can finally post what may be my first Winnie-style travel food adventure. Winnie Yang seems to write these kinds of posts weekly: here's a pig's head she ate in Montreal, a lovely passion fruit on the beach in Kenya, and oh, that dim sum in LA... and that's just the last couple months. The food below is a little more pedestrian, and a little less well photographed (shitty cell phone camera), but I hope you like it.

First, starting in Nashville with the catfish sandwich.
This is from Fat Mo's, a little drive-through place down the block. Between this sandwich the krunkest fish sandwich over in East Nashville, I predict Nashville will become an unlikely fish sandwich mecca. We do have the deep frying skills for it.

But Portland, ME will remain the lobster roll mecca

And Butte, MT is the only home of the original pork chop sandwich, invented at Pork Chop John's and served "loaded" with red onion, mustard, and pickles, on a toasted bun, for $2.90 (!).

Portland, OR: My first bit of beef this year!
This is a local, sustainable hamburger from the amazing Burgerville USA.
And to go with it, a mind-blowing pumpkin milkshake.

Side trip: While in Oregon, my aunt Joy took us shrooming. Don't pass up an opportunity to do shrooms with your aunt.

Talking of chanterelles and local food—we had a great lunch on the porch at Chez Panisse in Berkeley, CA:
Rocket salad with beets and a chopped medium-boiled egg
Hand-cut wild nettle pasta with chanterelle mushroom ragú
Provençal fish and shellfish stew with fennel, tomato, and rouille
Grilled pork roast with shell beans, roasted pimiento, and tomatillos

Then, on our way back east, we went to Bryce's Cafeteria in Texarkana, TX. This place was loaded to the gills with amazing home-cooked southern food. I wish I'd taken a picture of the buffet.
The absolute crispiest most amazing fried chicken legs ever, with all the southern accompaniments.

And as my dad taught me, if you're ever in Memphis, a stop at Charles Vergo's Rendezvous is a must:
Here's a full order of their charcoal roasted, dry rubbed ribs. Heaven on a bone.

The funny thing is, even if their point is simply that the two schedules, mine and the airline's, are ideally of equal importance, they still leave room for the hyper-individualistic interpretation that my schedule is way more important than theirs. I'm sure there are many who see it that way, and that's why we are going to hell in millions of individual handbaskets, with little pillows provided through a partnership with Delta.

In this case, I was upgrading from a PowerMac G5, a big hunky desktop machine. I don't know why I thought I'd need all of those card slots or hard drive bays. Maybe I just bought it as a doorstop for my ego. Anyway, over the years I only ever added RAM to it. So when choosing a new machine, the number of card slots didn't enter into it. The decision really came down to portability vs. screen real estate, and even though my life is in mobile turmoil right now, I opted for screen real estate.

Four days with the new machine and I'm utterly convinced I've made the right choice. I bought a 24" iMac, and I now have a luxurious 7.1 megapixel LCD landscape in front of me. It feels like my productivity has doubled. It's similar to the way I felt when Exposé came out. The main screen is 1920x1200, and I think that makes the biggest difference for me. But the secondary screen (my old 20" LCD) is also indispensable, because I can now give my e-mail, IM, and a full calendar the space they deserve.

That's the thing: More space really changes the way I work. For example, if I keep iCal open on my secondary screen, it becomes the virtual equivalent of tacking a calendar to the wall. That is very, very valuable. It means that I can rely on iCal because I don't have to find and open it each time I want to add to it. It means that I can actually use iCal now. Because I can just glance at it. I can rely on iCal always being there. So the secondary screen becomes the screen at which I glance while I'm working on other things. It's the screen of passive interruption--the communication center. I can be interrupted, but without the real work around. Psychologically, even with the ease Exposé, that makes a big difference to me. It's counterintuitive, but more space seems to allow me to focus better.

My secondary screen is the virtual cork board above my virtual desk, and I think that over the next couple years, as the desktop metaphor finally dies out, its replacement will have to have this functionality in some form.

Anyway, I'm grateful to have this new machine and the productivity boost that comes with it. (thanks, Dad!)