BCN4: El Dia Perdido

[The BCN series of posts is an edited transcript of my journal entries during my recent trip to Barcelona, June 26 - July 9]

Suffered a bout of bulimia vi roja last night. Could've been L'Estevet's old pollo, could've been the wine. Last night's cava was from Recaredo, and the vi tinto was Domino de Tares “Cepas Viejas". I thought it might've been one of the four cheeses we sampled at ABAC. Who knows.

S. took some Gravol and suffered restlessly all night and all day today. I decided to make the best of it and visit some Modernisme landmarks.

The helpful guide at Casa Amatller yesterday suggested I check out Domenech i Montaner's works. I went to the Hotel Espanya where I discovered a beautiful dining hall decorated with undersea frescoes: bipedal mermaids cavorting with colorful sea creatures beneath a towering japonais surf (photo above).

Next, after a brief stop at the flat for lunch and to check S.'s pulse, I went to the Hospital de la Santa Creu i Sant Pau, another DiM joint. His design for the Hospital, bankrolled by banker Pau Gil, incorporated his patron's fondness of French therapeutic hospital designs. The Hospital complex covers nine huge Eixample blocks. In this space, DiM created an environment that was pleasing to the eye and the spirit: a series of ornately decorated pavillions connected by underground service corridors and lined by intimate plazas and landscaped beds. The buildings were abundantly inscribed with Pau Gil's initials, so the convalescing would never forget the identity of their benefactor. The Hospital's chapel, though mostly brick and not stone, was magnificent. The crucifix was a moving tribute to His passion, and that of Domenech i Montaner.



I headed to Montjuic to see Caixa Forum (by DiM) and the Mies van der Rohe pavillion. A function was being hosted at the pavillion that evening, so my access was limited. Nevertheless, the clean lines and austerity of this building were a striking contrast to Modernisme ornamentation. Perhaps most striking is that the pavillion was built in 1929, within three decades of most of Barcelona's Modernisme masterpieces.

We closed the evening with unremarkable tapas at Barcelona landmark El Xampanyet. Then a walk on the beach promenade to Port Olimpic and an absurdly large seafood grill platter at Marina Moncho's. The grilled sardines were delicious. The platter also featured whitefish (the catch of the day), giant prawns, lobster prawns, mussels, squid tubes, razor clams, scallops...tasty, but too much! Go only if you want a lot of seafood and aren't too particular about its preparation.

We hung out outside the flat on Passeig del Born til about 0330h. The beer-wallahs made their rounds with perpetually cold six-packs at a euro a can. The people watching was good, especially Italian groin sandwich chick. You had to be there.

GTA: Profitable Deceit

A word on the GTA:SA controversy. I wholeheartedly agree with Republican congressman [I never imagined I would start a sentence with these words] Fred Upton of Michigan: A company cannot be allowed to profit from deceit.

To wit, the game developers of Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas surreptitiously embedded gameplay with explicit sex scenes. Routine play would not reveal the scenes, but the scenes could be unlocked with appropriate software. This is not a mod, a fan-developed modification of a game introducing new elements. This is a crack, an applet unlocking restricted software features. See details on the Hot Coffee crack and "sex minigame" at the GAMESPOT.

The deceit practiced by Rockstar games is to market this game with hidden sexual content at an M rating to ensure higher market penetration. The developers must have known it would only be a matter of time before the explicit gameplay would be unlocked, and may have even facilitated the crack release. When the Entertainment Software Ratings Board changed the game's designation to adults-only, Wal-Mart, Best Buy, Target, and Circuit City promptly yanked the game from their shelves. And Rockstar promptly stopped production and has now begun issuing scrubbed versions of the game.

But back to the congressman's bold and unassailably right-thinking proclamation: A company cannot be allowed to profit from deceit. I wonder if the congressman would have supported as exuberant an investigation of Halliburton for the deceit it has practised under the guidance of the standing Vice President (see Halliburton—Building an Unsustainable Future)?

What lessons are children taught by self-interested entrepeneurs masquerading as statesmen, bent on securing an American Empire that straddles every oil field on the globe? Isn't that more morally corrupt than virtual fellatio, Congressman Upton?

BCN3: Feasts for the Eyes and Palate

[The BCN series of posts is an edited transcript of my journal entries during my recent trip to Barcelona, June 26 - July 9]

Breakfast in the flat: lattes, paraguayos, nectarinas, pa, fourme d'ambert, y jamón. First stop: Manzana de la Discordia (the Apple of Discord). This 80m stretch of Passeig de Gracia features Modernisme architectural works by three of Barcelona's most renowned practitioners: Gaudi, Puig i Cadafalch, and Domenech i Montaner. Casa Lleo Morena by DiM is unfortunately closed to the public.

Cadafalch's Casa Amatller is open, however. The style is a kind of gothic revival, with a cobblestone entry to the inner courtyard, and gorgeous little esculpturas everywhere you look.

Carved figure, Casa Amatller

The stained glass roof of the inner courtyard is spectacular. S. and I spent much time photographing the details of the facade and courtyard.

We repeated the exercise next door at Gaudi's Casa Batllo. I found the most striking feature of Casa Batllo was the attic storeroom. Gaudi ingeniously contrived to make this level both weatherproof and open air, ringing the inner courtyard with a covered arcade of whitewashed parabolic archways, and using gill-like apertures on the courtyard wall to allow air in. The play of light on these graceful lines was mesmerizing.

We headed to the University district to L'Estevet for a late lunch. Too late, I'm afraid. Many items from the menu del dia were already unavailable. S. will attest to the perils of selecting chicken just before closing time (see the upcoming BCN4: El Dia Perdido). I had the gaspatxo, breaded chicken with mushrooms, crema caramel flan, and Moritz beer. I'd go back to L'Estevet's hundred-year-old tiled walls; its ceiling plastered with bizarrely juxtaposed poster images of surfing, BMX biking, and gymnastics; its Mom and Pop feel. The restaurant is also close to some great graffiti and Barcelona's CCCB (Centre de Cultura Contemporània de Barcelona).

I went to the beach again, this time Platje de la Barceloneta near Rebecca Horn's sculpture, Homage to Barceloneta (see photo by Julie Woodhouse). A much younger, foxier scene at this beach. The sun was going down; in the evening's glow, everyone looked good. Time for dinner soon.

A B A C www.restaurantabac.com (empty page)
Chef: Xavier Pellicer. Abac is a gem in the renascent El Born district, about a block from our rented flat. The bright, elegant dining room is not showy in its chic. The staff here are a perfect complement to Pellicer's culinary genius: attentive, knowledgeable, and mannered. Again, a menu loaded with both invention and homage, every course on the tasting menu was strong. After amuse bouche came seven courses, a cheese plate, two desserts, and an assortment of dolci. I have to say that my favorite course was the lobster broth poured over raw verat (mackerel), roe, corn kernels, a lobster nugget, and pea-sized watermelon balls, served cold. Other highlights: seafood ravioli with butter foam; ginger chicken broth served with lettuce wrapped foie gras and caramelized pear; baby monkfish served with a salsa del mar of sweet onion, heirloom tomato, and sea asparagus. S. and I exited the restaurant at o130h, walked off the wonderful meal, and returned to the flat around 0300h.

BCN2: Eros And Sandy

[The BCN series of posts is an edited transcript of my journal entries during my recent trip to Barcelona, June 26 - July 9]

I decided to visit one of Barcelona's nude beaches, though I was too modest to follow suit. Platja de Sant Miguel lies just south of Platja de la Barceloneta. As you continue to walk along the beach, further from the warren that is Barceloneta, sunbathers shed more and more clothing til they wear nothing at all.

I discovered that nudism is decidedly unerotic, that the little swatches of fabric we usually clad ourselves with at the beach do more than cover our naughty bits--they impart fashion, modesty, and--well--neatness. They also produce eros by denying access to what they conceal. As they should.

Hm. I managed to write about the experience without once mentioning the abundance of pendulous man-sacs swaying along the beach--Ooops!

Two good restaurants today:

Cal Pep www.calpep.net
Not much time to write; things move pretty fast here. I asked Paco to keep the dishes coming: Three Canya Estrella lagers, pa amb tomaquet, sardinetas (tiny fried sardines), carxofes (artichoke hearts), tallarines (penne loaded with olive oil, butter, and garlic), gambeta blanca fregida (fried whole shrimp), and filet carne (seared beef with potatoes). Even though there were a lot of fried items, they were surprisingly light. The shrimp, sardinetas, and artichoke hearts were simply dusted in flour, salted and shown the high heat of the fryer briefly, by Pep himself (grey blur). Pep summoned his servers to clear the dishes he prepared by hissing at them. My espresso shot was presented with a tiny biscotti bite. Despite the lunch counter set-up, Cal Pep is a class act, serving a large assortment of wines, brandy, cigars, as well as delicious local dishes.

comerc24 www.carlesabellan.com
S., colleague and Barcelonaphile, arrived this evening as I arrived in Barcelona: sans valises. We celebrated his arrival by ordering the Super Festival Taster Menu, an absurd name for a delicious assortment of local dishes and playful novelties. The meal included an opening course of four amuses bouches, four middle courses, each with two to four dishes, a cheese plate (four cheeses and a fig fruit jelly), then dessert (four desserts). The food was very good, at times excellent, and the presentation ranged from elegant to fanciful. Highlights included the arroz negra with an herb aioli and adorable whole baby squid; and a chocolate ganache garnished with sea salt, extra virgin olive oil, and a bread crisp. And, of course, I must mention the kinder egg. A frothy meringue conceals the surprise: a soft boiled yolk infused with truffle (see photo). Service was sorely lacking for an establishment with food of this calibre. I frequently refilled my own glass, waited for forgotten espressos, and was generally challenged getting the attention of my server.

BCN1: Gaudi 101

[The BCN series of posts is an edited transcript of my journal entries during my recent trip to Barcelona, June 26 - July 9]

My first full day in Barcelona begins with breakfast in the flat, then taking the Metro to the Temple de la Sagrada Familia. The edifice--under construction since 1882--is as spectacular as it is audacious. I was awestruck as I walked within its soaring nave, climbed its towers, and attempted to absorb the wealth of sculpted detail throughout. The experience also nearly made me reverential. As a completed church, it may never serve its primary purpose as a place of worship, mobbed as it forever shall be by curious throngs from all over the world. That would be a terrible shame. In its conception, in every detail, it is clearly conceived as a tribute to Christ and Nature, yet it shall instead stand as a tribute to Gaudi--an eventuality that must surely cause him great anguish if he looks on in the afterlife.

The Coronation of Mary, Nativity Facade

Visited another Gaudi masterpiece: La Pedrera or Casa Mila. I learned much about Gaudi's design principles in the museum tucked below the rooftop. I learned about Gaudi's preoccupation with parabolic forms. I learned how he incorporated this form into his designs employing an elegant solution, the inverted suspended model, depicted in photo. This is a primitive but ingenious method to model the form without aid of calculation.

He was also thoroughly attentive to natural light in his designs, whether reforming Palau Guell or creating Casa Mila. The courtyards of La Pedrera are bound by sloped rooflines sporting porthole windows, with a geometric expansion of the 'windowprint' the deeper into the courtyard you go. In this manner, Gaudi regulates light entering flats lining the courtyard.

Again, the details here in Casa Mila are spectacular, though I confess a certain distaste for his works when trying to take them in whole. The naturalistic curves, textured surfaces and fanciful flourishes conceal an exhaustive preoccupation with design. This is a theme I find repeated throughout Gaudi's work: the meticulous design of seemingly natural forms.

Cmon I Lied, So Scampish

According to Stephen Colbert of The Daily Show, the true meaning of the banner aboard that aircraft carrier marking the end of hostilities in Iraq in 2003 could not be appreciated by those thinking in a "linear, left to right, letters in consecutive order, syllable-based way." The meaning was embedded in anagram form: Cmon I lied, so scampish.

Added Colbert: "George W Bush will go down in history as this nation's scampiest Commander in Chief."

Deficit Improvement

In dramatic contradistinction to the track record of his office to date, the Bush II Administration is projected to post a small improvement in the size of its budget deficit for the 2005 fiscal year. The source of the improvement is, according to the New York Times, "an unexpected leap in tax revenue."



Recall that the Bush II Adminstration has produced an increasingly negative budget balance every year since taking over from Clinton (Update: New Canafornida). I think the captions in the table are misleading. The projected reversal of this trend is attributed by the NYT to a sharp increase in corporate tax revenues (accounting only for an additional $58b). More significant, in my opinion, is an increase in individual income tax revenues, accounting for an additional $105b. To wit: "the increase in individual tax receipts appears to have come from higher stock market gains and the business income of relatively wealthy taxpayers. The biggest jump was not from taxes withheld from salaries but from quarterly payments on investment gains and business earnings, which were up 20 percent this year."

BCN0: Barcelona Bound

[The BCN series of posts is an edited transcript of my journal entries during my recent trip to Barcelona, June 26 - July 9]

Day 0
The trip begins inauspiciously. As I feverishly pack the morning of my departure, I have a premonition of a final journey being made.

I arrive at the Kelowna International Airport and am told that a ticket has not been issued for my itinerary and that I would be unable to fly. The owner of my travel agency leaves his cottage to check on my itinerary at his office in Edmonton. I also marshal the hospital security guards to check my itinerary--which I left in my office--containing my ticketing information. Ultimately, I make it aboard my YLW-YVR flight because its arrival is delayed by a security breach in Vancouver.

I invoke a prayer as we taxi: "B'ism Allah ar Rahman w'il Raheem." Anyone who knows me, an avowed atheist who never practised Islam, knows how unlike me this is.

The flight delay forces a tight connection in YVR. I walk briskly from C38 to D70, trotting the last 50m. My bags couldn't have made the flight. I'm on my way to Frankfurt.

Perhaps my prayer worked. Perhaps I only lost my baggage rather than my life. Annoyingly, the thought comforts me.

Over Iceland, I'm summoned to respond to a passenger suffering chest pain. I'm the second responder, the first being a male nurse from Germany. We get some oxygen on him. I get him to chew on an aspirin tablet. I give him some nitrolingual. The automated defibrillator cardiogram doesn't show any ST segment elevation or T wave changes suggesting no heart attack is underway. He's tachycardic, his heart racing along at 130, with pretty good pressures despite the two doses of nitro. I decide to give him a beta blocker, but could find none in the med kit on the plane, so I canvass the passengers and get five to choose from. I give him a dose of bisoprolol. I don't have to scuttle the flight. The chest pain subsides, and we complete the flight.

I finally get to Barcelona, though my bags don't. I go to the flat I've rented and am duly impressed. I go for a walkabout in my neighborhood and discover hip clothing stores, a produce stand, a couple of grocery stores, some promising looking restaurants, and a pretty tree-lined boulevard starting a couple of doors down from my building. A cheese shop: Tot Formatge. A sausage and cured meat shop: Botafareria. Very promising. And my very own kitchen. I stay up til 2300h to try to synch myself on Barcelona time.