Chapel Hill

On parties, galas in particular.

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In the world of parties, fundraising galas have a special place, and I love them.

When I volunteered at the Ronald McDonald House of Chapel Hill, I worked at the gala, but at St. Vincent de Paul I have had the privilege of being an invitee!

So what makes a fundraising gala different? Consider the purpose: to raise money for your institution. That is going to make your guest list interesting i.e.: rich. Second, you are going to have other events within the party: an auction, a silent auction, and of course, the basic building block of parties: food, drink, music, possibly dancing; in our case a wonderful mass with ten bishops!

What I love the most about these parties is the socializing, the connections, the conversations, the banter, the joking, the good, positive vibe.

One of my few friends in the suburban wasteland that is South Florida I met at our gala five years ago and we are super friends! Plus a few acquaintances, and people that you only meet that one time, but have a nice conversation with.

It is a privilege for me to attend these galas and I love going and meeting people and chatting with different folks. The fact that the event is run by our students, and I get to chit chat and joke with them makes it even more fun!

The adventures of travel; an example.

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The previous post was a generic “get out and travel” post, a motivational (hopefully) message, a reminder of the beauty of travel, of meeting new people, of seeing new things. What I did not talk about was the adventure of travel and the stress and adrenaline involved.

As has been previously reported, I recently presented at a conference in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. To get there, I had to fight with the metaphorical Cyclops, lotus-eaters, and Sea Nymphs…

On paper the trip was easy: West Palm Beach, which has a cute little airport to Charlotte North Carolina – a behemoth airport, the 10th in the nation with 23.1 million passengers per year. From there to Raleigh Durham, another cute provincial airport, from there a taxi/uber to Chapel Hill.

Unfortunately, the equipment (the airplane for you Philistines) in Palm Beach was broken and we spent more than two hours on the ground getting it fixed. People left the plane to make other plans, but I had no options. There were no more flights to Charlotte and no other flights to Raleigh, I had to take my chances… We arrived at midnight at Charlotte, and I sprinted to the car rental area to try to get a car. Some booths were closing, others had long lines, most had no cars available. In all of Charlotte airport there was one, one car available, it was with Avis, it was electric, and it would cost me $270. But there was nothing else I could do. If I stayed in Charlotte to wait for the next day’s flight, I would miss the conference and an appointment at 9:00 the next morning. I had to take the car. I took the car.

I have never really driven an electric car (yes, ok little electric rentals in Madrid, but that does not really count). I buckled into the Hyundai IONIQ 5 SEL, a $50K rig. In theory it had over 200 miles autonomy for a 144-mile drive, plenty. The theory bit is that the autonomy calculation is at the speed limit, hahaha. Ooops. Not that I drove autobahn style, but it was late, I wanted to get some sleep, and I am a Mediterranean driver anyways, so I might have driven a midge over the limit. Watching the battery level and the mileage left was a hairy experience. The battery clicked to red, 9% as I pulled into the hotel parking lot -I was not going to hunt for free street parking at 2:30 in the morning.

Epilogue:

The next morning (after my breakfast meeting with the great Professor (retired) Frank Dominguez) I found a free charging spot at the chamber of commerce. Fortunately, a Tesla owner arrived at the charging post next to mine and explained that I should leave the car there and go live my life while it charged -Hmm, not your usual gas station experience. So I left the car there and headed to the conference. By late morning, the battery was up to 30%, enough to drive to the airport, return the damn car, and take an uber back to the conference…

Safe travels folks!

On the importance of academia, presenting at conferences, a return to UNC Chapel Hill

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Yes, there are a lot of problems with academia, the ivory tower and all that. But at its core, it is still important, necessary, even critical I would say.

It has to do with research, discovery and then sharing that information. I was blessed to be able to participate at this year’s Carolina Conference for Romance Studies, It was great! I had some issues getting to Chapel Hill (but that merits its own post).

Living in 2 season Florida (dry, warm, and wet, and humid) it was fantastic to feel Spring, cool in the morning and evening and warm during the day. I was grateful for Spring! Plus everything was blooming and it was just so beautiful!

My panel was fantastic, well attended, and with great questions. I presented on a little-known 18th C. Spanish book: Los aldeanos críticos. My colleague presented on Galdós, so it was exciting. Other panels I attended were brilliant. During drinks that evening, I had great conversations about Zola with an old classmate and Posthumanism with the conference’s keynote speaker (expect a post on that also).

I also managed to see old professors and friends, even to sneak into the Ackland museum and bask in Carducho, Picasso, and all the other artists, to visit old hangouts; YoPo for frozen yogurt, and Zogs for drinks!

So my mission was accomplished, I was incredibly happy and satisfied with it!

Duke, NC State, and UNC The Research Triangle, Tobacco Road

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Respect

You have heard of the Bermuda Triangle, the National (or Parliamentary) Triangle in Canberra, Australia, Isosceles triangles, and other famous triangles, but today we are going to talk about the Research Triangle.

The Research Triangle is formed by three nearby universities in central North Carolina and the towns where they are: Chapel Hill home of UNC, Durham, home of Duke, and Raleigh home to NC State (in Alphabetical order by city –by university in the title). Many companies, mostly tech and biotech, seeking to take advantage of hiring all these grads have set up shop in the area, thus the name. You can´t blame them.

So that is an economic sort of benefit of the Triangle. But more importantly, and one that does not appear on the news, or in economic reporting, is the great relationship between these three great schools. Sure, we trash talk and compete to the death in sports -UNC vs Duke is the oldest rivalry in college sports, also known as the Tobacco Road, but in academia there is great collaboration and cross pollination. During my days at UNC it was normal to go to Duke or NC State for conferences and chats, I even went to concerts! It is normal for couples to work and study in different universities. I personally know two couples with one person at UNC and one at Duke and one at NC State! And there are many who get their undergrad degrees at one and pursue graduate work in one of the others.

I am blessed to teach -in the same class- a Duke and a NC State graduate, so the other day we agreed to wear our swag shirts and get our favorite photographer Dylan to take some photos of us showing off. Enjoy!

A return to academia, the Carolina Conference on Romance Studies, returning to UNC.

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Although I consider myself more of a teacher than a scholar, I do enjoy research and writing. Also, I get to do my research at my pace and not at the breakneck pace demanded by the research universities.

If you are an old timer of this blog, you know that my PhD dissertation was on the early works of 18th C. Francisco de Isla, before he wrote his best-selling Fray Gerundio. This time I focused on Isla´s first writings after the Gerundio, still up to his old crafty rhetorical tricks and double plays. Right after selling out the first edition of the Gerundio overnight, the head of the Carmelites denounced the book to the Inquisition, Isla´s defense of his novel is the Apologia por la Historia de Fray Gerundio, and that is what my paper is on.

And it was accepted at the Carolina Conference on Romance Studies. So, with the generous support of my school, off I went to present my research at my alma mater.

Chapel Hill will always have a special place in my heart. The four years that I lived there studying for my PhD were very enriching, even though I was teaching and getting my doctorate at the same time. I loved the University, my classses, the town, the community, my colleagues and professors, my volunteering, the lot.

So without the Covid restrictions of last October’s lightning visit (read about that here) I was able to see old colleagues and classmates, to spend time with Irene, my dissertation director, to have a long conversation with my old spiritual director Fr. Bill, to have a great catch up with my favorite librarian, Teresa, to revisit the Ackland museum, to go to mass, to have a meal at Imbibe and a drink at Zog’s with Mandey the owner, to enjoy a cigar with my brilliant friend Jedd, to buy too much UNC gear, to walk around campus, to enjoy a YOPO frozen yogurt, and basically to walk and soak it all in. It was so comforting, it felt like coming home.

On Pizza

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Disclaimer: Google recently had a pizza doodle which included a cute game, but I was planning this blog before that. Ok, now we can move on.

Like languages, pizza is a relatively modern variation of an ancient dish, basically jazzed up flatbreads that you can taste all around the Mediterranean basin: Coca in Spain, pita in Greece, etc. Of course, pizza wins the popularity contest due to Southern Italians immigrating everywhere and taking their recipes with them, grazie.

Growing up in Franco’s Spain, I was not exposed to pizza until high school in London, specifically Pizza on the Park on Hyde Park Corner (now closed and turned into a fancy hotel). It was love at first bite! American pizza during college was different, but still delicious, the most memorable one being Pizzeria Regina in Boston’s North End. Through the years, as I moved around, I discovered great pizza joints, Napoli in El Escorial, The Upper Crust in Boston, Italian Pizzeria (IP) in Chapel Hill -they also showed European football, which was a great plus!, and NAP in Madrid.

In my old age, my taste buds require simple, few, but delicious ingredients, (I have written before about the “Minder is meer” less is more adage) so nowadays I only eat Margherita pizza which should only have three ingredients plus the dough: mozzarella cheese, tomato sauce (which should have a bit of garlic), and basil (plus obviously olive oil and salt).

Due to its heavy New Yorker population, South Florida has decent pizza. Almost every week I meet my friend Manuel for some great pizza at County Line in Juno Beach. Here in Boynton, there is Pizza Rox which makes a textbook pizza and has a great selection of local beers, and Frankie’s. Recently I have also discovered my friend Arlene’s great pizza place in West Palm Beach, Pizza Al Fresco set in a lovely Spanish patio with awesome staff!

My pizza fever has been compounded by a guy called David Portnoy who does pizza reviews on the internet. I confess that I have gotten to the point where I can guess the points he is going to give the pizza he is reviewing before he does! Check out his pizza review app Onebite and one of his many reviews below!

The secrets to a great pizza are a screaming hot oven (800 F – 450 C), fluffy, airy dough so you get the bubble – you need the bubble! And simple, excellent ingredients. Enjoy.

What is your favorite pizza place? What are your thoughts on pizza? Let me know in the comments!

On Sushi, Soy, Pedro Espina, and Akai Hana

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Sushi is without a doubt one of my favorite foods. The pure, clean flavors, the simplicity of presentation, the ceremony, the whole package just makes for an amazing meal and experience.

I was not introduced to sushi until after college in 1987. Fortunately, I had a very urbane girlfriend in New York City at the time who taught me how to eat sushi, all the rituals, and all the basics. I was hooked (ha-ha).

A few years later when my dear friend Alfonso would come to Madrid, the two of us and my sister would walk over to Suntory -yes part of the Japanese whisky company- to have dinner at the sushi bar. We eventually became quite friendly with the Chef, Pedro, who eventually informed us of his starting his own restaurant. Tsunami was amazing! Near my home, we would walk over when Alfonso stayed with us. Here Pedro ran the show with his Japanese, kimono wearing wife, Tamayo.

Pedro is a fascinating fellow who lived in Japan for years, learning the craft of sushi. He is also a world class boxer, although now he mainly coaches his daughter.

A few years later Pedro suffered a rare health issue and he had to close his restaurant. After some time, maybe even years, he opened another restaurant, Soy. This time there was no fanfare, the restaurant, which does not even have a sign outside is on a quiet, residential street. It is a tiny, intimate space with five tables and a tiny bar counter reserved for last minute friends without reservations (guilty as charged). Here Pedro does not really work with a menu -although one exists. You sit down and he feeds you amazing, delicious, gorgeous dishes. It is now a bit cliché to say so, but this is a culinary experience like few others.

The result of knowing Pedro for almost thirty years now, is that I have become a sushi snob. So I do not really eat a lot of sushi other than at Pedro’s.

Fortunately for me, Chapel Hill (ok, Carrboro) has a tiny, extremely good sushi restaurant, Akai Hana. Although I was on a tight student/teaching fellow budget while I was getting my PhD, I would occasionally splurge at Akai Hana. They made a quail egg shot that was an explosion of flavor in your mouth like you have never experienced!

In the suburban wasteland that is Florida, I have not yet tried a sushi place. If you know of an authentic, good quality sushi place in Palm Beach County, please let me know in the comments, I will be eternally grateful!

Lightning visit to Chapel Hill

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Since graduating in 2016 I had not been to Chapel Hill, and I was dying to go soak it up. So a few weekends ago I jumped in my car and drove off to my beloved Alma mater in North Carolina.

After stopping for the night at a roadside motel in Florence S. Carolina, I arrived in Chapel Hill in time for lunch. I walked across the ghostly campus to see my dear friend Mandey at her restaurant, Imbibe. She did not know I was coming and was very surprised to see me! She fed me a gorgeous pork belly sandwich!! I was happy to see they had successfully transitioned to a delivery and pick up restaurant! Unfortunately, the upstairs bar, Zogs, my second home in Chapel Hill was closed due to Covid. From there I walked down Franklin Street, across town, enjoying the energy and the community, something that I dearly miss in nameless, faceless Florida. I am glad to report that The Yogurt Pump is still serving (from a window) the best frozen yogurt in the world. My old friend Jedd has opened a cigar shop (World Headquarters Cigars) and I enjoyed catching up with him for a while. My next stop was the Student Store!! Where I overspent on UNC gear, although truth be said, it was mostly presents for family. I took the long way back, stopping to meditate at the Arboretum.

Confession time: The Catholic church at UNC, The Newman Center, is across the street from the Carolina Inn, the quintessential Southern hotel. From my first days in North Carolina, after church on Sundays I would go across the street to the Carolina Inn, get a coffee and sit in the lobby to read. Once, when my sister came to visit, she stayed at the Inn and had an amazing experience! So, at last I bit the bullet and stayed at the Inn, I was dying to, and it did not disappoint!

I had socially distanced dinner with a handful of dear old professors: Cristina, Oswaldo, and Irene. My heart was overjoyed with happiness to spend time with them.

Sunday morning, after a perfectly Southern breakfast –including grits! I crossed the street to church. Mass is normally being held outdoors on the parking lot during Covid, but due to the rain, mass was cancelled and the ceremony was going to be livestreamed from inside. At the beginning they did not want to let me into the building, but when I identified Father Bill, they did. Seeing Father Bill was a more moving experience than I expected. Mass, with only a handful of parishioners, mostly undergrads, was simple and beautiful. After mass we could not abide by the rules anymore and Father Bill and I fell into a heartfelt, teary (for me) hug.

After sadly checking out of the Carolina Inn, I drove to Irene’s house for lunch. And what a lunch it was, full of good food, laughter, memories, conversation, and needless to say: gossip! After that, it was a sad, lonely, and rainy drive back to Florida, stopping to sleep in Savannah Georgia.

Now I can’t wait to go back and see all the folks I missed in this lightning visit (you know who you are), and to go to mi favorite places that were closed for safety’s sake. As Terminator would say: “I’ll be back”.

The great American restaurant: The diner

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Thanks to almost 30 years of the Food Network and food magazines, the US is finally waking up to eating good food. This is not to say there was no interest in food before. Look no further that the Amish communities with their all organic and local only fare -long before that was even a thing. For too long Americans in general only considered food as fuel for the body. Generally, Thanksgiving is the only exception when families cook and sit together to eat. Of course, there have always been restaurants around the country that venerated food. I think of Locke Ober’s in Boston, which my dad loved, and of course many others. Speaking of the Food Network, think of all the restaurants Guy Fieri features in his Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives show, revealing some of the generations old, mom and pop restaurants that are temples of food.

It is my opinion that diners are the finest representation of American food and therefore, culture. It boils down (sorry for the pun) to the Puritan/Protestant DNA, of our work ethic ingrained in our culture; work is the way to earn your salvation. It means one must have a big breakfast to work all day towards one’s goal. Thus the big breakfast at the diner, who has time to make eggs and toast and hash browns, etc, etc, at 5 in the morning? Lunch is a non-event: I have seen people wolfing a slice of pizza while they walk, a sandwich at one’s desk is more than acceptable, it is respected as a sign of your hard work, taking your time for lunch means you are a slacker.

My love for diners started way back in 1983, my freshman year in college in a small town outside of Boston. Exploring the town, I discovered Wilson’s diner. Its shiny blue and chrome was beckoning, inviting. What a discovery! It looked like a railroad car that was permanently placed there. And what a breakfast they had, buttery everything. Big dollops of butter to make the pancakes, the eggs, the omelets, the hash browns, everything! The first times I went with my best friend Theo who quickly got to chatting with the staff in Greek. I was amazed at the coincidence until I learnt that many, if not most of the New England diners are family owned and run by hardworking Greek immigrants. There is obvious irony in the fact that a Greek family was cooking perfectly buttery, greasy American breakfasts. I immediately fell in love with Wilson’s and walked the couple of miles  -sometimes in foot deep snow- into town on Saturdays for my breakfast: eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, pancakes, I tried everything and everything was delicious. During those four years of college I explored other diners: The Blue Diner in Boston, and the Deluxe Town Diner in Watertown, quickly cementing my love for diners and what they represent.

Since then I have had the chance to discover many diners and I always make it a point, whenever and wherever possible to breakfast in a diner: The Empire Diner in Chelsea (The New York one, sorry) around the corner from my apartment after college, The Agawam Diner near Newburyport where I lived for a winter, tiny Casey’s Diner in Natick where I would sometimes take my advisory group, it is so small it does not even have a regular door, but a sliding door which takes up less space, the famous Red Arrow Diner in Manchester New Hampshire where presidential candidates go get their photo taken during the primary election campaign. There are not many diners outside of the Northeast, but that does not mean that there are not great breakfast places that do the job of the diner: Ye Olde Waffle Shoppe in Chapel Hill is one of them. I even held the oral component of my final exams there; the students had to order their breakfast in Spanish from the wonderful Latino staff (although the ownership was Greek!) to pass the class! Visiting the University of Virginia, I discovered the White Spot on which I wrote one of my earliest posts (you are going to have to scroll way down…). The Clover Grill in New Orleans, I even bought their T-shirt: “We love to fry, and it shows”, Plato’s Diner in Maryland, and so on.

The other day I discovered The Boynton Diner in Boynton Beach in Florida, and I am happy to report it is a perfect specimen of the species: great waitresses, perfect breakfast, and, of course, an endless cup of piping hot coffee.