Generally, I hope to keep posts separate in theme, but since I'm on the road, it's going to be somewhat less well thought out. Jots, not thoughts as I'm craigslisting around the Pacific Northwest. To that end, I don't want to segregate posts into BOOK POSTS and FOOD POSTS, especially when they're relevant to each other (or I'm pressed for time...) Anywho. Onward.
I'm rereading
Moby Dick for the third time. For me and my rotten spot for the Romantics, it's pretty much the perfect late summer read. The first time I read it, I was starting my senior year in high school and trying to impress my teacher, who was and still is unequivocally cool. Coming from Alaska, whales ought to have more of a significance for me; they don't, but the ocean sure as hell does. To say nothing of Melville's meditations on spirituality that punctuate the first half especially. I've never been much for believing, especially as a 17 year old, but some passages hit home on the deeper level of spirituality -- that which is beyond sects and goes straight to the core of those pesky, crucial questions about how we should live. Take, for example, this chunk of a speech from the sailor-turned-preacher, whose torment drives him to and from God:
"...Woe to him whom this world charms from Gospel duty! Woe to him who seeks to pour oil upon the waters when God has brewed them into a gale! Woe to him who seeks to please rather than to appal! Woe to him whose good name is more to him than goodness! Woe to him who, in this world, courts not dishonor! Woe to him who would not be true, even though to be false were salvation! Yea, woe to him who, as the great Pilot Paul has it, while preaching to others is himself a castaway!"
He drooped and fell away from himself for a moment; then lifting his face to them again, showed a deep joy in his eyes..."
The scene ends with the preacher kneeling in the pulpit, head in his hands as the congregation quietly trickles away.
Strong stuff, but my favorite chapter is the one called "Chowder." Go figure. It's worth it to read the book to that point, if you're determined to make an effort. Hey, it's not a book for everyone, and by all accounts I should probably hate it. Which might be why I love it so much. Did I mention that I read this on the Alaskan coast, huddled in my jacket with my thermos of tea, watching the waves every time I needed a break? That I read it over the course of August and September, which is when the belugas run in Prince William sound? That I SAW a white whale while reading
Moby Dick? Yup.
And now, as they say, for something completely different. Or at least, a different tack. Sushi! I went out for sushi with a wonderful friend in Portland the other night, and found that I really like yellowtail. More than tuna, which I find grainy unless it's seared, and even then I'm not such a fan of the texture. But this yellowtail (raw) was buttery and not too overwhelmingly fishy. Set off with cucumber or something crispy and moist, it would have been perfect; I found just the fish and rice combo a bit dry and heavy.
The tempura shrimp and broccoli roll was great. Crunchy shrimp in a gooey ball of rice and broc? I'll take two. Dozen.
It's all a wash anyway. Like all too many Alaskans, I say go salmon or go home.