Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Mag 40



The golden amulet hung from a chain of uneven pearls, glowing in the half-light as it lay there on the dark velvet in the jewel box. I stared at it, wondering what it meant. No answer came to me. So I took it to the Professor.

He had been a professor at a university which I shall not name at one point in his past. But certain irregularities had occasioned his fleeing the academic life. Now he lived in solitude in a small apartment, a seven floor walkup in the city. He made his meager living from his knowledge of archaelogical wonders not often seen by honest men. They were secreted out of countries of their origin and discovery and sold often to the highest bidder. The new owners dared not display them. They were consigned to locked private museums for only the possessor to gaze on.


I had dealt in some of these wonders in my checkered past, which need not be detailed here. And when I was stumped by some new but obviously valuable piece, I often went to see the Professor.


On this day, I found him in his flat, surrounded by heavy tomes, the air in his dank rooms heavy with the smoke of some Egyptian tobacco he consumed in his Calabash pipe with the Meerschaum bowl. I coughed and then held out the box containing the golden amulet.


The Professor eyed me from beneath his bushy white brows, then took the box and gently opened it. I cannot describe my shock at the change in his appearance. While still holding the object in shaking hands, he appeared to lurch back from it as his face turned pale.


“My god” he said, then repeated it “my god”.


“What is it?” I asked. “Are you all right?”


For a time the Professor was silent, seemingly trying to gain his breath and search for words. Finally he spoke. “It is the sacred medallion, the only one of its kind in the world”, he gasped.


“But sacred medallion of what?” I inquired.


He looked up at me and I could see the fear in his eyes as he said “It is the symbol of the Rodent King.”


With trembling hands he closed the lid on the box, handed it back to me and said “take it away, please, take it away before it . . .”


At that moment, I was struck with fear myself and slowly backed away and closed the door gently behind me, wondering what had come to my hands and what curse it held.


I never found out. I accidentally left it on a bus as I was returning home and never saw it or the Professor again.

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The amulet of the Rodent King is a product of my much two fervent imagination prompted by Willow as part of her fiendish plot on Magpie Tales to extract writings from we, her slaves.  Click on that link to find more imaginative whimsies.

Mexican food

One of the most misunderstood areas of culinary interest is, I think, that of Mexican food.

I freely admit that the first time I was in the Southwest, back in the 1960's, the only Mexican food I had tasted was that from some cheap t.v. dinner.  It bore no resemblance to the tacos I tried at a drive-in restaurant somewhere around St. George, Utah.  But neither, I learned many years later, was truly Mexican food.  Take, for example, what is generally thought of as such in the United States today.  Tacos, enchiladas, flavored rice and refried beans, begun initially with chips-and-salsa and accompanied by a Margarita.


That is what is more well-known in the Southwest as Tex-Mex or border food.  It's good but it's only faintly Mexican food.  I know because back in the middle 1980's I moved to Mexico, anticipating the joys of an early retirement.  We lived, variously, in villages along the north shore of Lake Chapala and in the big city of Guadalajara for nearly five years.

You might be surprised to learn that perhaps my favorite restaurant in the city was Chez Pierre, a French restaurant, where I dined many times on steak poivre (pepper steak).

But that begs the question.  What I learned from my Mexican sojourn was that any cuisine has a wide, very wide, variety in tastes and sensations.  For example, seafood is very popular in Mexico . . from one of SWMBO's favorites, Red Snapper Veracruzana,


to the grilled fish (complete with heads and tails) we used to enjoy at a small place in Guadalajara.  Octopus is popular in Mexico, though I never tried it.  Shrimp, of course, in many preparations.

A favorite country restaurant we used to go to had a huge fire pit with various types of meat on re-bar roasting vertically.  My favorite was roast suckling pig and, darn it, I can't remember the Mexican term for it.  Incidentally goat is very popular in Mexico and this restaurant had a large goat pen adjacent to it!

Another favorite was Queso Fundido con Chorizo - basically a small pot of melted white Mexican cheese with chunks of chorizo sausage, to be spooned out into a quarter of a tortilla and eaten. 


 Incidentally, flour tortillas are more common along the U.S. border and corn tortillas more common in the bulk of Mexico.  Or so I found.

Another favorite we discovered was dark mole from Oaxaca.


This was doled over chicken and it was delicious.  The one we had at a Oaxacan restaurant was actually jet black.  I remember one of our friends who refused to touch it.  Her comment?  "I don't eat black food!"

Quite obviously, as I sit here drooling over my keyboard, I could go on and on.  But I'll stop.  Just remember: Mexican food is a lot more than tacos, enchiladas and chimichangas.  (I've heard that last one was invented in Los Angeles!)