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Las Rocas 2007 Garnacha (Spain)

My love affair with Spanish wine began roughly a year and a half ago. It wasn’t a specific instance. No moment of sipping a Spanish wine and having a “best wine ever” epiphany. No trip to Spain. No passionate Spanish woman (a la Penelope Cruz’s character in Vicky Christina Barcelona) came into my life. Those things would have been lovely. But my love affair was rather,  a culmination of several different things that I happened to love, coming together. A perfect storm, if you will, of loves. Deepening more with each additional element joining in.

Element #1: Tapas Teatro & Pazo

These two Baltimore tapas restaurants set aflame my heart and palate. Pazo’s open atmosphere and fantastic tapas and wine menu quickly made it one of my favorite Baltimore bars/restaurants.

Pazo

Where Pazo is a huge open room full of energy, Tapas Teatro, located just north in the Mt. Vernon neighborhood of Baltimore, is everything you would picture a European street cafe being. A small, charming, and warm space with tasteful art adorning the walls, and right-on-the-sidewalk seating.Where Pazo tends to be more widely Mediterranean, Tapas Teatro is almost exclusively Spanish.

Tapas Teatro

Where I would end up on a given night, would depend on my mood. If I was feeling more social and felt like putting up with crowds, I’d go to Pazo. If I was looking for something more chill, a casual night with friends, I would go to Tapas Teatro. You would’ve been more likely to find me at Tapas Teatro. Their small plates were amazing. The attention to detail, from presentation to flavor, was stellar. The sangria: served in a giant rounded pitcher, icy, ruby-colored, and jeweled with fresh cuts of fruit. If you’re ever in Baltimore, go to Tapas Teatro.

Element #2: Hemingway (Specifically, The Sun Also Rises)

The Sun Also Rises was the first Hemingway I read. Ever. His writing style is understated and simple. His stories are almost always based on his own experiences. The Sun Also Rises follows a group of friends (and expatriates) living in Europe. The story jumps from Paris to Spain (San Sebastian and Pamplona) where the characters take part in the running of the bulls and the fiesta surrounding it.

“El vino did flow.”

Although it was most likely a product of the atmosphere surrounding the celebration in Pamplona, drinking all hours of the day seems to be romanticised by Hemingway … which is why I am a bit uncomfortable with the fact that I felt drawn to the particular lifestyle our expat friends were living. But c’mon, who wouldn’t want to spend their mornings, afternoons, and evenings enjoying (for the most part) food, booze, coffee, and friends?

Hemingway and friends in Spain

Element #3: A Summer Visit to Seattle/My First Encounter with Las Rocas

Living in a Baltimore suburb. In my parent’s basement. Working at a Christian radio station. These three things don’t exactly allow one to “fall into culture”, if I can quote my own phrase. My limited exposure to wine was basically my Dad bringing home a bottle of Corbet Canyon Merlot or Chardonnay from Buttons, one of the local liquor shops. I began to branch out a little, but was still more of a beer guy, truth be told (I still am, by the way). I am totally going to be nailed on this, because I am going to come off sounding as if Seattle has culture and Baltimore does not. If you are thinking that, let me refer you back to the three opening sentences of this paragraph. The point is that as things were in Baltimore, I had to try hard to find things I loved. I had to go out of my way. That was not the case in Seattle.

Seattle (courtesy of Ork Posters)

My dear friends (and now housemates) Emily & Scott moved to Seattle in the summer of ’07, thus opening a bright, shiny (sometimes rainy), and obsessive place to me. Obsessive? Seattle seems to be a place where everyone wants to perfect their craft, whatever that may be. Restaurants (for the most part) want to be the best at what they do. Brewers and wineries want to craft the perfect beer or wine. Coffeeshops and roasters want to pull the perfect shot and achieve the perfect roast or blend. With this attitude seemingly all around me, it was easy to get excited about finding really good stuff in Seattle. Emily and Scott certainly fell for this aspect of the Emerald City. It was transmitted to me upon my first visit in October of ’07.

When I visited again in the summer of ’08, Scott & Emily were more settled and more in love with Seattle. Summer in Seattle is brilliant, if you didn’t already know. You probably thought it rained all the time, didn’t you, Steinberg? Not even close …

Let me set a scene for you wizards …

EXT. HOUSE, QUEEN ANNE, SEATTLE  – LATE AFTERNOON

BRIAN, ERIC, & SCOTT stand together on the deck off of a house. The deck overlooks Lake Union, the Cascades mountain range, and the Seattle skyline. The three young men enjoy a cold brew, a clove, and take in the view that is laid before them. The sun is still high in the sky. It is Sunday. It is warm. It is perfect.

After a drink or two and a smoke, we headed inside to the dining room table for dinner. Forgive me for not remembering the meal exactly (Apricot Chicken?), but when we sat down for dinner with Emily and Tab (Eric’s wife), there was a bottle of Las Rocas on the table. The rest, as they say, is history.

Las Rocas

How much do I love this wine? In short, about as much as one can love a liquid. It goes well with anything. Just ask my friend Dave S. from back in Baltimore. He had it for the first time with a peanut butter sandwich and said that it was a nice complement.

Las Rocas drinks well out of it’s price point. It’s peppery, a bit sweet, and subtle. The tannins are smooth. The fruit (cherry and raspberry, mostly) is present, but not overpowering. There is oak. There is some chocolate. There is a whole lot of goodness in this bottle. A whole lot of goodness for around $10.

Maybe I think this wine so great because I’ve been influenced by the perfect storm of events that surrounded my trying it: the tapas, Hemingway and Pamplona, a Seattle summer and good friends. Maybe I want so badly to love it because I love the places, characters, events, and friends that helped me experience it. Or maybe I love it because it actually is a fantastic wine. One that is easy to drink, cheap, really good, and complements sitting down with friends, a good book, a good meal. This is why I like wine as a whole. It screams of community. There is no better representation of this than what adorns a wall in our apartment. Beer bottle-caps line the frame. Wine corks from bottles, long emptied and enjoyed, line the inside. Tacked to the cork are pictures of friends. Loved ones. The people we most enjoy, over a drink or two. For relaxing times, make it Suntory Las Rocas time.

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jonathan strange & mr. norrell.

So, one of our semi-regular posts here on Roused to Mediocrity will be centered on books we love. The posts will include books we’ve just read for the first time, or books that we read when we were twelve. The criteria is that they are the sort of book that we simply need to recommend to everyone who will listen.

My assumption is that for my part, fiction will make up the bulk of my recommendations. That is because, as those who know me can attest, for my money there is nothing that beats stories. Stories are sacred and redemptive, they teach us about who we are. When we hold them up to the light we don’t just learn about the characters in the tale, or the author, we learn about ourselves, about what it means to be human. See, there I go rambling about story when this post is about something else entirely!

Thus far, we have yet to come up with a clever moniker for said posts, and we would love the help of you out there in internet land. What should we call these posts?

The first post fits right in with my prediction, but you didn’t really think that I was going to blog about something else after making a claim like the one above, did you? Anyway, on with the post!

Normally, on a day when I finish a book I am quickly on to another. That is never a reflection on the story, or how much I enjoyed said book. Most often I simply can’t wait to sink my teeth into page one of another tale. The most significant exception I can recall was quite recently, after finishing Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke.

After finishing the story’s final page I was so hesitant to leave behind the world of alternate history and characters Clarke had created that I actually spent two days deciding whether or not I would start a new book or simply relive the delightful pages with Strange and Norrell again.

Books simply don’t get better than this. It was wonderfully British, subtle and nuanced, consistently hilarious, in short, it was utterly brilliant. Filled with beauty and wonder, darkness and tragedy, and for all its false history it is filled with people who have the depth, faults and authentic frailty of each of us. I quite honestly wished that when I had finished the 850 pages that there were 1000 more at least.

Clarke’s tone of narration was perfect for making the idea utterly believable that, during the Napoleonic War, London saw the reintroduction of magic into everyday life. The alternate world of the story was just like our own, aside from the fact that everyone was well aware of the existence of magic and faeries (and as a side note, faeries in this story are not miniature girls with wings, they are tall, attractive, wildly dangerous and unpredictable creatures of both genders, for whom magic comes as easily as breathing). Clarke tells a tale which feels at every moment appropriately outlandish while at the same time entirely plausible and commonplace.

I loved all the characters. Each had a depth that wasn’t exaggerated, but felt quiet and real. When someone tells us a story in real life, they rarely go out of their way to point out the emotional complexity of the story’s subjects, that is simply present for those who desire to read between the lines. Such is the case for characters like Jonathan and Arabella Strange, Gilbert Norrell, Childermass, Stephen Black, Lord Wellington, the gentleman with thistle-down hair, and even the absent yet always central character of John Uskglass.

Each character wooed my affection, not in spite of their foibles and weaknesses, but because of them. It was in large part their weakness that made them feel so authentic. They held grudges to the point of absurdity, the two main protagonists were fueled by arrogance and fear as often (or more often) as courage and clarity. They were all terrible at communicating, to their own peril. However, it is never in the absurd Lost sort of bad communication that works as a shorthand (read: lazy) way of keeping the plot a mystery (Kate: Sayeed, what’s wrong?!? Sayeed: We are all going to die if you don’t stand on your head whistle the theme song to Hawaii 5-0. [Characters walk off into the jungle, and, end scene] Viewer: Ah, I see, that is the end of the conversation. Not, “Why, Sayeed?” or “What is going to kill us?” or “Why would that help?” or “Take 5 minutes and tell me the short version of what’s going on.” We’ll just leave it at, OK, that vague, mysterious and nonsensical answer works for me, away we go.)

In Clarke’s book the poor communication happened in the way that we are all often terrible at communicating in real life, when a simple uncomfortable conversation might clear everything up but we avoid the tension and vulnerability, where we are unwilling to face the necessary relinquishing of our pride. It is a world where we let misunderstanding hang in the air because we cannot bring ourselves to make the sacrifices necessary for a needed conversation to take place.

Since reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell I’ve also loved the hell out of Clarke’s The Ladies of Grace Adieu, which is a book of short stories, each taking place in the same alternate history as the novel.

I hope it isn’t long before Clarke unleashes her slightly dark and entirely brilliant imagination on the world with a new book.

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wunderkind: why chloë grace moretz may become my favorite actress before she can legally drive.

Todd: “I think I’m in love with her, dude.”
Marty: “Okay, she looks like she is about 11 or 12 years old, but…”
Todd: “I can wait. I solemnly vow to save myself for her.” *
—————————–

Chloë Grace Moretz. Where the hell was she when I was 13? Had she been around, I certainly would have had the largest crush in the history of 13 year old boys. I think the 13 year old deep down inside actually does have a crush on her.

As it stands, I am not 13. However, I think it may be possible that, in an unprecedented perfect storm of talent, charm and the fickle circumstances necessary for good filmmaking, that Ms. Chloë Grace just may be my favorite actress before she can legally drive. Seriously.

It started when she played the knowing, no nonsense little sister in (500) Days of Summer. It was a good start, and set a strong foundation in my movie-watching experience of her. Yet, had that been followed up with nothing more than her performance in Diary of a Wimpy Kid, I probably would have forgotten she existed, (In large part because I will never see that movie and all accounts I have read make it sound like it should have been more accurately titled Diary of a Selfish, Unlikeable, Manipulative, Lying Little Asshole).

Had her career following her turn in (500) Days resulted in the all too common relegation to the typical little kid roles, of which she has done plenty, I would have thought of her only in terms of the hopes that she become one of the child star success stories and not one of the horrifying tales we so often hear.

Fortunately, her role in Diary was more a sign of her range than a true sign of what every role she took would look like. Instead, as mentioned above, there is very good reason to think that Chloë Grace Moretz is going to be entertaining the hell out of us for many years to come, and equally good reason to think that, if things fall the right way, she may be my favorite actress by the time she can get her Learner’s Permit.

Scott, that is a pretty bold claim, what are these reasons of which you write? Well, I’m glad I asked myself that, here is my answer.

First is the primary reason I decided to write this post. It is the fact that she stole every single scene in which she appeared in Friday’s remarkably fun Kick-Ass. In a film filled with immensely entertaining characters, she flat out ran away as the most entertaining. Her performance as an actress simply felt older than she was. Her sense of the moment, of the scene, of what makes a line funny or poignant simply reaches beyond her years. Most young folks deliver lines, Moretz acts. This is something that is quickly becoming a common theme for her.

So far, she is my favorite character in my favorite movie this year. That might change thanks to upcoming movies like Inception and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. Still, the fact that it is true at the moment is crraaaazzzyyyy!

<As a brief aside, I LOVED Kick-Ass!

I completely understand where some people are coming from in their arguments that the film sexualizes teenagers while placing them in the midst of unbelievable violence and profanity, they are right. However, the reason I still loved the movie is because of my experience when I was a teenager. The film wasn’t a false sexualization, it wasn’t profanity you wouldn’t hear every day at every school in America, and it was a violence fantasized and role-played by every boy and some of the girls I knew. It was indicative of what the brains of America’s youth are really like.

Thus, if the content of Kick-Ass disturbs you, don’t rail against the film. Instead, hug a kid (yours or one you know well enough to hug), take them out for ice cream, become a mentor, tutor a kid, listen to a teenager as they talk about the overwhelming anger and helplessness some of them feel in the face of bullies and circumstances they can do nothing to change, which the movie nailed.

Also, if us adults can learn to fight our own bystander apathy, then kids won’t have to feel like they are the only ones who might change things. However, to go into more detail would require another post, so, back to Chloë Grace.>

Second-of-ly (to quote Tobias Fünke), another reason that I think Ms. Moretz will continue to rock out with her socks out, is great roles on the horizon. Hit Girl was that special confluence of a great role/character and exciting talent. This is something that can be fickle, plenty of great actors and actresses have been cast in doomed roles that make them look like utterly awful actors (the first example that jumps into my head is Gene Hackman in Behind Enemy Lines).

We know Chloë Grace has the talent, but she needs to land the right roles too, and there are some pretty fantastic roles that she has already been cast in, increasing the chances that the future looks bright.

Most obviously, there is her role in the next Scorsese film, The Invention of Hugo Cabret. This will mean a starring role, in an adaptation of strong source material (the book only takes about an hour to read for those interested), in a Martin Scorsese Picture. Hello! That sounds like a hanging curveball just waiting to be knocked out of the park by Moretz.

There is also Let Me In, the American adaptation of the amazing Norwegian film Let The Right One In (if you haven’t seen Let The Right One In, stop reading my stupid post and go watch it RIGHT NOW, it is available on the instant queue through Netflix. [If you don’t have Netflix… well, I don’t really know how to help you]).

Originally, Moretz being cast in Let Me In wouldn’t fill me with any sort of hope, because Let The Right One In is a movie that should be left alone in its original form. Usually, Americanizing a foreign “horror” film results in gore, stupidity and schlock.

However, like Homer Simpson’s urge to kill, my urge to hope is rising. The Departed proved that an Americanization can be smart and well-crafted. More importantly, a fairly recent interview with the adaptation’s director over at Cinematical gives significant reason to believe he really gets it!

This could mean that her role as the little girl damned to exist eternally as a terrible predator in the form of a child will present another source of dark, poignant, troublingly entertaining material to let Moretz flex her acting muscles. That may be a wonderful prospect.

So much can happen in the next few years. Chloë Grace may decide she doesn’t want to act anymore, or these roles could hit production problems and go the way of The League of Extraordinary Gentleman or At World’s End. However, if her perfomances as a precocious young orphan and a lonely vampire go as well as they could, thus leading to even more great job offers for her, then Chloë Grace Moretz just may join Leonardo DiCaprio, who is probably my favorite actor, as the actress most likely to get me to the theater based purely on her presence. I must admit, I’m rooting for it to happen.

*[quote is paraphrased]

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