Member


|
|
|
Caffé Firenze
| Old-world Mediterranean Recipes Emphasized and Shared in Florence |
|
| By Brian D'Ambrosio |
|
|
The menu at Caffé Firenze reads like a perfunctory recitation of familiar Italian-American fare: delightfully puffed calzones, panini sandwiches, pastries, baked focaccia bread, and gelato. Comfortable, aromatic, and inviting, the restaurant feels as if it was located on the most Italian street in the Italian section of Brooklyn’s Little Italynot somewhere in Florence, Montana.
Owners John and Patti Stevens have done some cosmetic work inside including Mediterranean-style flooring, hand-painted mural walls, and European-bistro-type chairs and tablescreating a welcoming atmosphere and compelling hours of leisurely dining. Once you’ve been greeted by the enjoyable scents of fresh herbs and spices wafting from the kitchen, you’ll know you’ve come to the right place to sample the delicious fare of Mediterranean country cuisine.
Noted for the ambrosial and simple but elegant and crafty preparation of its local products, Northern Italy has become a prime travel destination, largely because of the region’s enticing food and wines. Caffé Firenze’s menu embraces this culinary style by highlighting the meats, pastas, and native herbs and spices characteristic of the region’s rich countryside.
“We are trying to offer all things unique in the art of dining, and to bring them together,” says John Stevens, who oversaw the construction of Caffé Firenze and hustles daily cleaning tables, running the cash register, and waiting tables. “Namely: Mediterranean cuisine, gelato, espresso, beer and wine, patio and drive-through dining.”
Breakfast treats include toasted focaccia and fresh croissant sandwiches, as well as smoked salmon and Italian sausage quiche. For their lunch guests, the restaurant serves a variety of garden-fresh salads that can be wrapped in an herb tortilla and taken to go, and grilled panini sandwiches made with items such as artichoke hearts and roasted ham, as well as homemade soups.
While the dinner menu at Caffé Firenze changes seasonally, authentic old-world Mediterranean recipes are perennial fixtures. Sunday night’s menu offers authentic Italian-style entrées and pizzas, including the Pizza Bianco a white sauce pie with abundant topping options, such as artichoke hearts, sautéed asparagus, and crimini mushroomsand the tomato-based Pizza Pomodori, which can be loaded with tasty additions, such as fire-roasted peppers, prosciutto, and fresh mozzarella. Spunky patrons may choose to create their own signature pizza, with ingredient choices ranging from redneck sausage and hard salami to Kalamata olives and spinach. Sicilian Spaghetti, a traditional family recipe made with homemade meatballs, and Italian Sausage Lasagna are two Sunday-night pasta menu favorites.
“When you see the presentation of the dishes, you’ll notice the cooking here is an art form,” says Patti, co-owner and the interior designer who coordinated the restaurant’s colors and style.
Patti and John Stevens are banking on their belief that the restaurant’s unique variety of food and flavorful choices will further legitimize and enhance the uplifting cultural and social benefits of a sustainable food system, the comforts of the table, and a mellower and more harmonious pattern of living.
“Gourmet and good quality are the key words to describe our dinner meals because they offer the convenience of take-out entrées and the comfort of sit-down dining,” says John. “Nothing here is prepackaged. Our recipes and the ideas for our fresh ingredients come from the heads of our chefs, not some readily available cookbook.”
Caffé Firenze serves a variety of delicious, freshly baked desserts. Complementing these toothsome treats are sweet-scented coffees, cordials, an assortment of beers, and choice wines. The restaurant’s organic bean espresso roasts come from Montana Coffee Traders; its gelato maker and panini grills are manufactured in Italy; its wine choices are imported from small, award-winning Tuscan vineyards.
Overall, the menu at Caffé Firenze is meant to be a commingling of Americans’ fast-paced, always on-the-go, keep-on-keepin’-on lifestyle and Italians’ love for conviviality, wholesome food, and debonair eating habits.
“The trick is to find food that isn’t too unusual and that’s comforting and interesting,” says Patti.
The relaxed sophistication of the restaurant’s dining room resonates with its stylishly trendy décor, comfortable furnishings, muted lighting, and blend of soft and vibrant colors. The sizeable, sleek space is surrounded by conversation tables and pockets of snug seating. The inside of the bistro showcases centerpiece murals that include deft depictions of Northern Italian streets, apartments, and Florence’s famous church baptistery -- all of which have been hand-painted by local artist Savahna Galanti.
The décor and service at Caffé Firenze seem luxurious, but you don’t have to wait for a special occasion to indulge because prices are not much higher than diner meals. But not many diners have ever produced food this consistently good, fresh, and diverse -- the solid, popular entrées and sides are cooked with care, and the vegetables have enough bite to tell you they started out fresh. New dishes of all kindsnot only meat, but vegetarian and seafood entrées as well have been added to the menu recently, too.
“We want this to be a social place where people enjoy the cuisine and the atmosphere and stay long enough to have nice memories,” says Patti. “We encourage people to come and stay here as long as they wish, whether to socialize or read or to enjoy a meal, or to just have a cup of coffee.”
“One thing that we want to achieve by being hands-on, everyday-type people, and by catering to families and being modestly priced,” says John, “is to make this spot a place that’s better for Florence. We want to make this a community hub and a place noted for social gathering.”
Caffé Firenze , 281 Rodeo Drive, Florence, MT
406-273-2923, www.caffefirenze.com.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Incident at Rattlesnake Station
|
By Wm. W. Whitfield
|
|
|
Of all the stories to come out of the lawless days of the Montana Gold Rush, perhaps none are equal to the one told by Wilber F. Sanders about an eventful night he spent among the road agents at one of their more infamous lairs. The Rattlesnake Ranch was situated on the old road between Bannack and Virginia City along the shrub-lined banks of a small stream known as Rattlesnake Creek.
The ranch served as a station for a stage line belonging to A. J. Oliver & Company, and a simple log building served as a restaurant, bar, and on occasion, a place to spread out a bedroll. The two proprietors, Frank Parish and Bill Bunton, had a reputation as cattle rustlers and horse thieves, and Erastus “Red” Yager, another fellow with a questionable character, was employed by the partners to serve as the station host and bartender.
Wilber F. Sanders and his family had come west with the same wagon train that brought his uncle, Sydney Edgerton, to the newly formed territory of Idaho.
Both men were lawyers who originally hailed from Ohio, and Edgerton had just been chosen by President Lincoln to serve as Chief Justice of Idaho Territory, which was carved out of the Washington, Dakota and Nebraska territories. Their wagon train left Omaha on June 16th 1863, arriving at Bannack three months later.
The town was barely a year old at the time, and stood nearly 800 miles from the territorial capitol at Lewiston. Edgerton was put in charge of the eastern third of Idaho, which at that time included all of western Montana. By the time Edgerton and Sanders arrived at Bannack, there was already a movement in place to have another territory formed out of the eastern half of Idaho, and both men took up the cause with eager enthusiasm.
In fact Sanders had just returned from Virginia City, where he had been collecting signatures for a petition calling on Congress to form the Montana Territory, when he heard of a rumor that sent him back the way he had come.
Throughout the day a number of boldly adventurous and self-indulgent young men had been frequenting the saloons and gambling houses before leaving town in groups of two. Word had it that they were heading out to stake claims on a new silver lode that was believed to exist somewhere in the vicinity. Sanders asked Sheriff Henry Plummer if there was any truth to the rumor and Plummer flatly denied it, claiming that the men were going to gather up a herd of horses belonging to Mr. Parish, who was deathly ill at his ranch on the Rattlesnake. Accompanying Sheriff Plummer on the neighborly roundup were his two deputies, Ned Ray and Buck Stinson, along with George Ives and half a dozen others. Apparently Parish was married to a Bannock Indian woman, and according to Plummer it was feared that if he died, his wife would take the horses across the divide to the Lemhi Valley, where her people were encamped.
Sanders had his doubts and pressed the issue with Plummer until he was eventually pacified by Plummer’s offer to hold a share in his name in the event that any silver mines were found in the process. Convinced by his friends that Plummer’s partners would not allow him to take out a claim in his name, Sanders set out on the trail of the suspected silver seekers an hour before sunset on November 14, 1863. The only mount that could be found in town at the time was an uncooperative mule, which had been procured and saddled for Sanders by his friends as he went about collecting his bedroll and revolver for the prospecting tour. The reluctant mule was rather hesitant to leave town, and it took Sanders nearly half an hour to get him up the hill and out of sight of the amused citizenry of Bannack.
When he finally gained the summit, the tracks of the riders grew faint and seemed to trail off and leave the road in different directions. Sanders assumed the riders were all seasoned mountaineers who knew the best shortcuts to the ranch. A cold wind and a sudden blizzard blew hard across the mountain pass, just as the last faint light of day was fading. The Rattlesnake Ranch was located fifteen miles northeast of Bannack, and somewhere near the half way mark the obstinate mule refused to go any further, and Sanders had to dismount and drive him on the rest of the way.
Upon arriving at the ranch, Sanders found Red Yager behind the bar and a doctor who had gotten off the stage earlier that day to tend to Parish, passed out in the corner and “stupified by intoxication.” He had expected to find the house full of excited adventurers, but Yager said that neither Plummer nor any of the others had been there that day, and he knew nothing of their whereabouts. Somewhat bewildered by the missing horsemen, Sanders had Yager unsaddle his mule and put him in the corral with some feed, while he spread out his blankets on the floor near the fire. After returning to the cabin, Yager kindly offered to share the large straw-filled mattress on the floor with Sanders. Before long Bill Bunton came out of a back room where he had been sitting with the ailing Frank Parish, and joined them in their weary slumbers.
In recalling the particulars of that blustery November night, Sanders says they were all sleeping soundly when sometime around midnight they were “awakened by boisterous and rude raps upon the outer door. Red arose, lit a candle, took a shotgun from behind the bar and proceeded to unbar the door.” In came Jack Gallagher, who had departed Bannack after all the others, and had gotten lost in the snowstorm. Gallagher claimed to have been wandering up and down the creek for two hours in search of the ranch and requested food and drink from the barkeep. Yager served up the usual libations and went into the back room of the house, returning with a pan of cold boiled beef. After having his fill of whiskey and cold beef, Gallagher said he intended to continue his journey, and demanded a fresh horse to replace his worn out mount.
Sanders, who was still laying on the straw mattress with Bunton, knew that Gallagher had been with the men celebrating at Bannack earlier in the day, and asked if he knew where Plummer was. “Instantly he jumped to the bedside with his revolver cocked, put it within a foot of my head and with the vilest profanity said that he would shoot the top of my head off, and continued in the most boisterous manner his threats and denunciations.”
Quickly moving his head from under the muzzle of the gun, Sanders jumped to his feet and sprang behind the bar where Red had replaced the shotgun. As he cocked the gun and brought it up into position, Gallagher laid his pistol down on a table. Sanders says that Gallagher then “pulled his blue soldier’s overcoat apart and told me to shoot. I replied that I had no desire to shoot, but if there was any shooting to be done, I did desire the first shot.” At this point Yager and Bunton stepped in and told Gallagher that he was to blame, and that he owed Sanders an apology. After a while Gallagher conceded the fact and invited Sanders to join him in a drink, which apparently settled the matter once and for all.
After some intense negotiations, Yager provided Gallagher with a fresh horse that actually belonged to the Stage Company, and once again peace and quiet settled in on the Rattlesnake. But just two hours later another ruckus was heard outside the door when Jack Gallagher came back with his saddle and bedroll, complaining that he couldn’t find his way in the snow.
We can only imagine what Sanders must have thought as he fell back into the arms of Morpheus that night, laying next to a man that had held a pistol to his head just a couple of hours earlier! Sanders had only been in the territory for two months, and was already embroiled in an intrigue that many other less-resolute men might never have lived to talk about.
The next day at five in the morning, he learned from a couple of concerned friends who had come looking for him, that Plummer and his gang had been implicated in a hold up on Horse Prairie, which is located in the exact opposite direction about twelve miles south of Bannack! Within a few months all of the notorious players in this strange episode had swaggered their way to a sudden and certain demise at the end of a rope, including Frank Parish, who actually made a total, yet short-lived, recovery after his recent illness.
Once he had gathered up sufficient funds to make the long journey east to the states, Sydney Edgerton took the signed petition to form a new territory back to Washington, and returned to Bannack in the spring with the prestigious title of Governor of the Montana Territory. Wilber F. Sanders went on to become a highly respected lawyer in Virginian City and Helena, and with his unflinching desire to see justice served, he helped bring law and order to a wilderness that had suffered far too long under the bullying tactics of a well organized band of armed toughs and highwaymen.
In 1865, Sanders played an instrumental part in forming the Montana Historical Society, and acted as president of that organization for 25 years. When Montana finally gained statehood in 1889, Sanders was chosen by the legislature to serve as our first Senator, and considering his conduct on that memorable night at Rattlesnake Station, it appears he had just the kind of grit required to fill the position perfectly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Shear Delight of LeRoy Sikorski
|
| |
| By Rod Daniel |
For a sheep, the inevitable cold winds and sub-zero temperatures of a Montana winter are made bearable by its thick coat of lanolin-rich wool. But come spring, the warmer temperatures cause the well-insulated ungulate to want to shed its heavy coat for more comfortable attire.
Most of the several thousand sheep that reside in the Bitterroot Valley owe their summer comfort to a man who’s been shearing sheep for almost half a century.
LeRoy Sikorski, now 62, sheared his first sheep when he was 16 on the family farm in northern Minnesota. It was an ordeal he’d like to forget.
“My dad had about 300 sheep and I guess he was tired of paying people to shear them. One day he said ‘we’re gonna shear some sheep.’” he recalled. “Well I ended up shearing all of them. I really didn’t know how. It was horrible. It really was one of the worst experiences of my life.”
Three years later, Sikorski went to shearing school in his hometown of Greenbush, Minn. That same year he was named Minnesota State Amateur Champion Sheep Shearer.
“I got to shear in the national competition in Indianapolis,” he said. “It was quite an experience.”
Since then Sikorski has raised his own sheep every year until last year.
“I raised sheep for 54 years and had as many as 500,” he said. “I had 750 lambs some years. I really like sheep.”
In addition to raising and shearing his own sheep, he took what he learned in shearing school and barbered other people’s sheep, usually as a side job.
Sikorski moved to the Bitterroot in 1981, to attend Shilo Bible School. He loved it here and ended up buying some acreage.
As word of his shearing skills spread, he was soon busy practicing his well-honed craft all over the valley.
Nowadays, Sikorski shears in the evenings, after his day job at Empire Landscaping, He saves his big jobs for the weekends. In addition to the Bitterroot, he shears as far south as Challis, ID, and as far north as Kalispell. He also has some big jobs near Hall and Philipsburg.
“I used to keep better records four or five years ago,” he said. “Back then I did about 5,000 sheep a year at about 220 different places. Now I’m probably doing around 4,000 a year.”
The most animals he’s sheared in a day, he said, was 123 for Dick Everett.
“I don’t go for the numbers,” he said. “I just try to do a good job cut ‘em as little as possible.”
Diana Hachenberger, who, along with Joan Contraman, breeds sheep primarily for their high quality wool, said that Sikorski is the premiere sheep shearer in the valley.
“Aside from being very skilled, LeRoy is also very patient and calm,” Hachenberger said. “He knows how to handle the animals without getting them riled up.”
This year, she said, Sikorski sheared 94 sheep for her over a couple days, paying special attention to keep the wool clean.
“LeRoy can shear fast if he needs to,” she said, “but for those of us concerned with the wool, he takes really good care of it.”
Contraman concurred. “I just can’t imagine using anyone else,” she said. “Most of us in the hand-spun wool business feel the same way. LeRoy really loves sheep that’s the difference I think. He has a real affinity for them.”
The main tool of his trade is his hand-held Shearmaster, which costs about $300 new. “It’s what I started with, and it’s a good machine,” he said. “You can do about 1,000 sheep before it gives out.”
When he’s not shearing, he spends a lot of time cleaning and sharpening his machine.
“People don’t realize how much time I spend maintaining my machines,” he said. “I always take two with me. You don’t want to drive all the way to a job and have it break down.”
Having sheared easily more than 120,000 sheep in his lifetime, Sikorski said he keeps getting better. But a lot of sheep growers, especially in the Bitterroot, depend on him, and he realizes he’s got to retire sometime.
“I’m a better shearer now than I was 10 years ago,” he said. “But I’m 62, and I won’t do it forever. I’m hoping some younger guys step up.”
In the Bitterroot, he said, a young man in his 30s has started shearing, and he’d like to see him continue.
“Lee Severson has taken up shearing,” he said. “He’s a good shearer and I sure hope he keeps it up.”
Shearing season usually begins in February and remains steady through June, he said. After that, Sikorski rests up for a winter vacation in warmer climes with his wife, May.
“By July, I do a few, but by then it slows down a lot,” he said. “I usually go to the Philippines in November. That’s where my wife is from. We’ve been married 18 years.”
Asked if he has any trouble sleeping at night, Sikorski laughs. “No, I sleep pretty good,” he said. “I guess I count sheep.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| How we think, reason, speak, and even dream rests upon the foundation of language |
| By Shawn Wathen |
|
|
Between the word and reality there is a clear interdependence....Joseph Brodsky was a poet who proclaimed a religion of the word as the active principle in a spiritual renewal. Like him, I am deeply convinced that the defiling of language, sloppiness, imprecision, and the impoverishment of language testify to a lack of culture and are ominous signs for societies.
--Julia Hartwig
My father could read sixteen or seventeen languages and could speak eleven. My mother spoke four or five and read seven or eight.
Amos Oz
The Guardian recently reported that Cambridge University, that elite institution of higher learning, would be dropping its prerequisite that those wishing admission have studied a foreign language. Reasons given centered around expanding a shrinking pool of eligible students from which to draw. Apparently, students speaking English as a first language have become disinclined to pursue a second, let alone a third or fourth language.
Cambridge’s action reflects a disturbing trend in education where standards are increasingly sacrificed in order to both parry attacks of elitism, and to focus on a certain defined “usefulness.” As a high school student in the 1970s, my academic advisor resolutely stated that if I had any inclination to attend university, two years study of a foreign language would be mandatory for admission. A decade later, no foreign language credit was necessary, and the university required only one year of study for the baccalaureate (the various departments were given discretionary powers to set their criteria at a higher level if warranted). I did note with unease that a computer science series would satisfy the requirementan argument that continues to mystify me. I agree that computers represent a something entirely foreign for many, but they do more to destroy language than to edify it as even the most basic rules of grammar and punctuation are ignored with abandon.
The Guardian also quoted a spokesperson for Oxford University, which earlier had dropped its foreign language requirement declaring that it “just wasn’t useful,” thus relegating the study of languages to the rubbish heap upon which the arts and humanities had already been cast. To study, let alone major in these academic disciplines is to be written off as weak-minded fops destined to swell the ranks of the poor working behind fast-food counters.
If one peers below the surface of these delusions, however, a different, much richer picture emerges. The study of a foreign language yields a number of dividends. Such studies allow us to connect with other cultures, not on a superficial level, but rather at a deeper, cognitive one. How we think, reason, speak, and even dream rests upon the foundation of language. The way we frame concepts and gain understanding begin with verbal and grammatical structures. Therefore, to study another language is to probe, in its highest sense, the heart of a culture that is not ours.
How realities are comprehended vary in important ways, reflecting historical, sociological, and environmental patterns and experiences, but these realities demand language to give them expression and make them intelligible. Inuit peoples of the North have many different words for snow. The formulation of the simple phrase “I am thirsty”differs in Polish and French, and provides contrasting views on the processes of mental constructs. Only by exploring other languages, leaving the confining matrix of our own, can we hope to make sense of distinct Weltanschauungen. Different vistas spread before us when we change our frameworks of understanding. This is not unbridled relativism, but rather an intelligent recognition that ours is only one porthole opening on a complex world.
A not inconsequential corollary to the study of other languages is a newfound appreciation for the role of English grammar in perception and expression. Without mastering the rules of grammar, language usage will always be rudimentary at best. If subject-verb-object represents the extent of how we see our world, it, by default, becomes constrained and one dimensional. By reacquiring a facility with our own grammar, we attain a firmer command of our first language, its subtleties and richness, sharpening our powers of thought, formulation, analysis and expression.
Is the study of another language useful? Probably not if you demand a direct relationship between years studied and dollars added to your annual salary. Ancient traders knew multiple languages as they plied the East-West trade routes, which aided them financially, of course, but it also gave them a fuller understanding of those with whom they traded. In the modern globalized economy, English is the lingua franca. So what is the impetus to acquire other languages? There should be a deep feeling of disquiet among those who know only Englishthose who have English as a second (or tenth) language know far more about us, than we do about them.
To reduce everything to the economic imperative can never explain why throughout time, people have struggled and died to defend language. From Indians in our own country that fought those who sought to eradicate their native languages in school, to Poles, Bretons, Ossetians, Tibetans, Celts,... To strip people of their native tongue is to erase their identity. Conquerors have always understood this. Only in this way can one comprehend why the French staunchly try to prevent English words from polluting their vocabularyordinateur, not computer!
The Tower of Babel need not be so bewildering. Languages die out every year, a loss that creates voids which cannot be filled. With each death, understanding of our world shrinks perceptibly. As the illusion of progress clouds our vision, we should seek a return to a multifaceted, multilingual world and rejoice in the Tower.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Suicide Prevention Resources
|
|
| By Shannon Selway |
On February 22nd, Missoula’s beautiful and talented Tiffany Seeberger took her own life. She was only 17. She left behind a devastated family, scores of grief-stricken friends, hundreds of shocked schoolmates, and thousands of stunned and mortified people - all trying to figure out why. It seemed so unimaginable, so horrific, and completely unlike Tiffany’s usual viable and charismatic character.
Whatever the reasons were, Tiffany ended up in a dark place where her pain exceeded her coping resources; her mind was burdened with profound despair, and apparently suicide presented itself as the only option to end her pain. We all can’t help but wonder how she got there, or how other teenagers arrived there for that matter.
There are no concrete explanations as to why Tiffany joined too many teenage and young adults in suicide a staggering statistic that continues to rise. It has become an exceptionally alarming problem especially here, in Montana. In fact, suicide of Montana’s youth of the ages from 10 to 24 is the second leading cause of death here, surpassed only by accidents.
On the average, every two weeks a Montana youth takes their life. And, for the last few decades, Montana has ranked in the top five states for the highest rates of youth suicide.
There are various triggers that can lead one to such a state, but the main one is depression a state where teenagers are most vulnerable because of hormones and sleep cycles that change dramatically during adolescence. Substance abuse can also contribute to depression, which creates a greater risk of suicidal behavior.
Today’s youth also seems to have a “communication disconnection.” Text messaging, computer chatting, and other like forms of communication have, in a dominant way, replaced much of the face-to-face and direct verbal communication we humans need to feel connected to others.
There are often warning signs someone might display when contemplating suicide. Some of them are (but not limited to):
• Talking about death or suicide
• Talking about “going somewhere” or away
• “Put his or her affairs in order,” such as giving away or throwing away important possessions, cleaning their room, etc.
• Talking about guilty feelings or hopelessness, withdrawal from friends, or family
• Loss of interest in activities or favorite things known to enjoy
• Notable difficulty concentrating, fuzzy thinking
• Changes in eating or sleeping habits
• Marked personality change, change in appearance
• Persistent boredom, decline in quality of homework, complaints about physical symptoms often related to emotions, such as stomachaches, headaches, lethargy, etc.
• Engaging in self-destructive behavior, such as taking drugs, cutting or drinking alcohol
Teenagers: If you are experiencing any of these warning signs, please get some help. Talk to your mom or dad. If you can’t talk to a parent, talk to a coach, school counselor, teacher, friend, or anyone you feel you can approach. Maybe even a stranger can bring some relief. Call a suicide hotline, such as the National Suicide Prevention Hotline, toll-free: 1 (800) 784-2433, or the Covenant House NineLine, 1 (800) 999-999, or even 911. These lines are available 24/7, and you would be greeted by trained professionals who want to help you.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Cooking With Wildlife Chef Vince |
|
| Elk Sizzler |
| By Chef Vince |
|
|
Here we are, we have reached the great month of April. Now, why do I call it great? Because the sun will be seen more than ever so often and we can start getting out into the woods. It is the beginning of new life for flora and fauna.
It is at this time of year that many roads are beginning to open up in the lower elevations and I enjoy getting out. When heading out to the woods be sure to go prepared for any breakdowns, mud holes, and changing weather patterns. I know I have experienced everything from sunshine and rainfall to snow squalls. If you are prepared for most weather you can have a great outing.
Be sure to bring a large snack and lunch box full of munchies and don’t forget your binoculars. Binoculars are a must for checking out critters from a long distance so as not to disturb them. I can remember many years back I took a long drive over to Big Hole country and had quite a trip. Along the way I was able to watch a mother Pronghorn with twin fawns, a mother moose and her young and other small forest creatures. On one particular occasion I watched a small hawk grab a squirrel no more than ten yards from me, and he took it to a nearby tree stump to enjoy his meal. You normally do not get to interact with wildlife like that hawk very often.
However, on more than one occasion, I have been interrupted to see many beer cans and trash along roadways and logging roads.
I make it a practice to carry in my truck several plastic trash bags. It only takes a second to pick the trash up that irresponsible people leave in our woods. It has happened that on several occasions I have filled more than one bag full of someone else’s trash. I will admit that I do get a sense of satisfaction knowing that I have done my part to keep or forests clean. I know that many areas have been closed by some logging outfits because they are disgusted with the trash they find on their timber lands.
I have seen items as big as couches, old refrigerators and washing machines in my travels around our great state. These obviously won’t fit in a trash bag but I am sure you get what I mean. I would like to remind folks out target shooting to bag up all the shot up brass and targets when you are done. I do know that you can be ticketed if caught leaving trash. Let’s face it we all enjoy our great out of doors when it is pristine and clean.
I must get back to that box lunch that you will take along. Be sure to bring snacks that everyone in your family will enjoy. Some young ones do not like what we adults would enjoy. Make celery interesting by filling them with cheese or peanut butter.
If you do not like your kids eating much candy bring along dried fruits, venison or beef jerky and granola snack bars. Lets not forget plenty to drink. There are many healthy drinks you can take along as well as my favorite, cold water. For those who would like a hot lunch take along a small propane grill for hot dogs, hamburgers and bratwurst. A propane grill is small and much less of a fire hazard than a open fire.
Well it is time for our monthly recipe and it is one that is easy to prepare and one that most everyone will enjoy. This is a great way to utilize thick elk or venison steaks.
I call the recipe Elk Sizzler , but you can substitute moose, venison or antelope steaks.
What you need:
* Two large and thick elk or venison steaks
*Three tablespoons olive oil
* One tablespoon butter
* Two cloves garlic - minced
* Three green onions - chopped
* Two medium or one very large tomato - peeled and chopped
* Half green bell pepper - chopped
* Eight ounce fresh sliced mushrooms
* Salt and pepper to taste
What you do:
* Sear the steaks in the olive oil and butter on each side and cook until medium to rare.
* Remove and keep warm.
* In the same pan, add all the remaining ingredients and bring to a simmer.
* Put steaks on a heated plate or a sizzling steel steak plate and pour the cooked mushroom sauce over the steaks.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
A Panama of Great Promise
|
| Tourism thrives in a land of cashews, corn juice, and gaping canal of commerce. But will underlying breaches of peace thwart future prosperity? |
|
| By Brian D’Ambrosio |
Noted these days as an easygoing land of picturesque coastline, Panama has the fastest growing rate of tourism in Latin America. Indeed, it’s not at all difficult to understand why it’s swiftly becoming one of the most attractive destinations in the Americas: intensely interesting historical sites, tasty octopus, hospitable people, imposing natural beauty, world-renowned sailing, diving, and fishing, and a friendly year-round climate.
According to statistics by the Panama Tourism Bureau, the tourism industry contributed $1.45 billion to the nation’s economy, representing 9.5 percent of Panama’s total Gross Domestic Product (GDP), making it the largest single industry in the country. Rated the number one place in the Americas for retirement by Modern Maturity magazine of the American Association of Retired Persons, Panama has a relatively stable, dollar-based economy, and a notoriously secretive banking system attracting plenty of funny money (it’s the third most popular off-shore banking destination in the world behind Switzerland and the Cayman Islands).
Free of ferocious hurricanes and political discord, Panama is growing rapidly. Circumstances which haven’t been lost on skyscraper manufacturer Donald Trump: Panama City is the largest Trump property in the world. Scheduled to open in 2010, the $400 million dollar ostentation will be one of the most exaggerated displays of insularity in the world, featuring 627 condo residences, 369 hotel/condo units and penthouse units ranging in price from $300,000 to over $2 million. In typical Trump fashion, property owners will have little or no contact with local cultures or ordinary citizenry, except for the ones working in the beauty salon, flower shop, or gourmet restaurants inside the “luxurious, cosmopolitan waterfront property in the electrifying and growing Punta Pacifica.”
Today’s Panama is at least in the mind of your average first-world foreigner who spends less than ample time outside the confines of gated Gringoland, is a warm, loving, and safe place, rife with opportunities to party, relax, and self-enliven. While abundant opportunities certainly exist to stimulate the senses of thy self, below the surface, a legacy of political dissatisfaction, militarism, social tension and unrest endures.
Panama City was the first European city on the Pacific Ocean and is the oldest Spanish settlement on the Pacific coast of America. It was founded on August 15, 1519, by Pedro Arias de Avila, who was exceedingly bloodthirsty, responsible for the deaths of many of the Isthmus’s indigenous people as well as the execution of his rival Balboa on a spurious charge of treason.
More than 150 years later, the famous pirate Henry Morgan (known today as the caricature and namesake of a rum product), after having taken the Caribbean-side Spanish fort of San Lorenzo, led his band of Welsh buccaneers on a brutal trek across the Isthmus to sack Panama City. Built primarily of wood, the city burned to the ground during a savage battle between the buccaneers and the Spaniards on January 28, 1671. After Morgan’s rampage, the Spaniards decided to rebuild the city on a more easily protected spot, less than 10 kilometers to the west. The entire new city, bordered by a thick wall and other fortifications, was inaugurated on January 21, 1673. Despite the fact that it was deemed by some to be inadequately sheltered from marauding pirates, the city was never raided again.
History of the Panama Canal
For 400 years, cutting a strait through the mountains and jungles of Panama to link the Pacific and Atlantic oceans had been the tantalizing vision of Europeans. (The canal is a short cut between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans and saves ships a long haul around the southern tip of South America.)
The United States had wanted to build an Isthmian route since the 1840s to facilitate the massive migration spurred by the California Gold Rush. But they weren’t the first country to actually try doing so: The French-backed Compagnie Universelle Pour le Canal Interoceanic was founded to build the Panama Canal in the mid-1880s. Costing $240 million (twice the cost of the Suez Canal), it was the greatest human undertaking ever attempted. Crucial engineering mistakes, along with the ravages of tuberculosis, yellow fever and malaria (two out of every three workers had been killed or seriously debilitated by illness), delayed the project to the point of bankruptcy. By 1889, the project was officially discontinued.
New York lawyer William Nelson Cromwell went to Washington in December 1898, to convince President William McKinley to build the Panama Canal, but at that time, public and political sentiment had been in favor of a Nicaraguan Canal, which would be known as the product of the American people. Following McKinley’s assassination, vice president Theodore Roosevelt became the man in charge, and he was determined to have the Panama Canal as part of his expansionist legacy. Panama was the property of Colombia at the time, and Roosevelt threatened to support full-scale Panamanian independence through secession, if the Columbian Congress failed to ratify the newly signed Panama Canal Treaty, an agreement made much to the president’s liking and the United States’ economic and political interests.
Panamanians intended that if the U.S. supported secession, the country would make a more advantageous treaty with the United States, “giving the foreign government the equivalent of absolute sovereignty over the Canal Zone.” Roosevelt said that, if Columbia balked at the U.S. offer, he would sponsor Panama’s independence and promptly recognize the new country’s government.
When Columbia rejected the treaty, made without their consent, signed by pro-independence minded members of a protectorate, Wall Street syndicate J.P. Morgan (who was part of a scheme that would make millions buying the rights to the Canal for $3.5 million and reselling them to the United States at $40 million) in collusion with President Roosevelt, planned, instigated, and manufactured a revolution in Panama. Columbian military officers invaded Panama, where they were met with the quintessential gruffness of gunboat diplomacy. With nary a shot fired, the United States wrested away Panama from Columbia, transforming a luckless province into an independent country, and signing a new treaty which granted the U.S. “in perpetuity the use, occupation, authority and control of the Panama Canal Zone.”
“This is why Panama is a byproduct of Latin culture and American presence,” explained Eduardo Herrera, 24, of upper echelon Spanish-Panamanian stock, whose aunt is the owner of the Sierra Llorona lodge, a birdwatcher’s rainforest paradise, 90 miles west of Panama City. Upbeat, well-spoken, and acutely aware of U.S. political, social, and economic life, Eduardo quickly has become more than just a guide, but a friend. Most of my 12 day stay here is spent with him, catching and eating octopus, talking nonstop about our two countries, dodging traffic in a massive sport utility vehicle, with an engine mysteriously lacking even the slightest bit of power. Merry, unaffected, shrewd and likeable, Eduardo offers his views on life in a carefully reasoned, philosophic fashion which affords instant proof that there is not only plenty of intelligence inside his head but that that intelligence has undergone careful cultivation.
“We’ve adopted many of your same behaviors. Many Panamanians change cars every two years and buy the latest consumer based toys and products. We are consumerists, just like you.”
Panama U.S. Tensions
Problems between Panama and the United States stemming mostly from Panamanian dislike of the overbearing presence of the U.S. military erupted continuously throughout much of the 20th century. Because of the logistic and economic vitality of first the Panama Railroad and later the Panama Canal, the U.S. had insisted, treaty after treaty, on reserving the right to play a role in the future of the Isthmus. Multiple times, especially in the fledgling days of the republic, the United States intervened in Panama’s domestic life.
“Panamanians are like any other people,” explains Eduardo, as we drive a byway known as Camino Real, a bumpy swatch of asphalt constructed by the U.S. military during World War II, intended as an alternative supply line in case of Japanese invasion its dense canopy obscures the road from helicopter sight.
“We do not want a foreign country setting up a military base, off-limits to locals, dividing the country in two. But, it’s our legacy now. It’s what we are known for throughout the world. It was a gift in many ways. If the U.S. didn’t set up here, we would be plagued by the problems of Columbia. We would be Columbia.”
The most infamous incident of emerging Panamanian nationalism took place during the Flag Riots of 1964, when a group of college students attempted to lower the U.S. flag in the Canal Zone, and raise their county’s flag in its place. Four students were fatally wounded by the U.S. military, and days of rebellion, looting, and destruction followed.
In 1983, following the death of president Omar Torrijos Herrera in an airplane crash, General Manuel Antonio Noriega, a former darling of the CIA and its director George H.W. Bush, seized firm control of the military and the entire country. Through the decade, Noriega’s behavior became increasingly unstable and violent; he had been implicated in the murders of political opponents and was deeply involved with international drug smuggling.
“Pineapple face, that’s what we called him,” says Eduardo. “He was crazy. He challenged the United States to a fight, holding a machete in his hands. No right thinking person wants that man anywhere near this country again.”
Periodic violent clashes between Noriega’s Panama Defense Forces and U.S. military personnel traveling outside the Canal Zone reached a lethal point on December 17, 1989, when a U.S. Marine Corps lieutenant, was shot dead in Panama City. Three days later, on December 20, 1989, President Bush ordered an invasion of Panama, dubbed Just Cause. Around 1,000 to 4,000 civilians were killed. Noriega, who had long been a CIA asset, surrendered on January 3, 1990, and was flown to Florida. (His prison sentence for drug running was completed only months ago, and where he goes upon release from U.S. custody is still being determined. The French wish to extradite and charge him with a bevy of additional drug-related charges.)
“It’s a shame that so many Panamanians were killed in the invasion,” says Eduardo, walking with me through the ruins of Inglesia y Convento de los Jesuitas, a stone church built by a small Jesuit community in 1607.
“You can watch the videos of it on You Tube. U.S. soldiers burned down and bombed many buildings. The hard part of it is, American intervention was, in many ways, a gift. I couldn’t imagine life in Panama under Noriega. He was a madman.”
Panama Canal 2008
Once large enough to handle and process most of the world’s freight, the mighty Panama Canal has gotten a little too close for comfort in the eyes of the world’s shipping industry. Wracked by concerns of its two locks being insufficiently narrow, engineers are working on improving the Canal to accommodate greater width. The centerpiece of the project will be the creation of a third set of locks that will allow the canal to handle ships carrying up to 12,000 shipping containers at a time; these ships do not fit in the canal today.
The expansion began in September 2007 and is scheduled to be completed in time for the centenary of the canal’s opening in 2014. The new locks of this parallel canal are going to be large enough to accommodate vessels more than 160 feet wide and 1,200 feet long.
The Panama Canal has been getting some press of a wholly different variety lately, too: Just weeks ago, 2008 Republican presidential candidate John McCain was disparaged by claims that his birth outside the United States legally prevented him from running for president. A February New York Times article raised the question as to whether McCain satisfied the necessary constitutional prerequisites, but since the Panama Canal Zone was a U.S.-run military territory when he was born the controversy has quickly died down.
McCain was born in 1936 on the Coco Solo submarine base where his father was a Navy officer. According to the NY Times, “his family returned to the United States within three months of his birth and he has no other connection to Panama.”
“Your next president may be a Panamanian,” laughs Eduardo, once informed of the possibility. Quickly, he adds his own personal spin or selection, really regarding the 2008 U.S. presidential election, an event, he says, closely being monitored by all Latin Americans.
“Almost all Panamanians want Obama to win,” he says, with a self-effacing grin liberally stretched out across his plump face. “Many are more interested in your election than ours in 2009. Bush wasn’t for his people, but his own interests. Your country stands for freedom, but Bush was acting against American ideals and the rest of the world, terrorizing others. Obama, I think, would be fairer.”
The Columbian Border, Crime in Colon
Given one of the highest rankings for tourist safety from the Pinkerton Intelligence Agency, Panama is probably less dangerous than any large North American city. But, as with any travel abroad, it’s inadvisable to walk around the streets flaunting your money clip, digital camera, credit card, or valuable belongings. Moreover, a recent regional study on crime in Latin American found Panama with a lesser crime rate than Costa Rica, which is typically thought of as the safest of Latin American countries.
Some economically and socially woeful neighborhoods of Panama City such as El Chorrillo, San Miguel or San Felipe scarred by Dickensian poverty and desperation are not safe at any time of the day. But, a place to be avoided at all costs is Colon a shanty jumble of overcrowded hotels and boardinghouses, inhabited by squatters and sleazebags ranking first in Panama in terms of chronic impoverishment, unemployment, and crime, earning an international reputation as a treacherous place.
Indeed, every article written since the advent of the guidebook advises tourists to avoid this city, inhabited mostly by descendants of Jamaicans and Barbadians brought to Panama as menial labor by the French and the Americans to work constructing their canals. Created in 1947, La Zona Libre, a walled compound within Colon, is the world’s second largest free trade zone, after Hong Kong. Despite the fact that it rakes in ten billion US dollars each year, Colon, the largest city on the Caribbean coast, remains an abjectly vile, Dantean vision of purgatory, with sewage and refuse scattering in all directions and often flowing beneath your feet.
Out of grotesque curiosity Eduardo and I drove through the teeming tenements of Colon a dangerous place appearing as if it hadn’t been visited by a breath of fresh air or a drop of cleansing water in decades one of the most depressing places in the Western Hemisphere, replete with weary junkies, roaming thieves, and wanton gangs, all condensed in living conditions so pitiable as to make one pinch themselves with zeal hoping to awake but anywhere else.
“I never take tourists here,” warns Eduardo. “But I’ve made an exception, because I have a good sense of what you want to see, and who you are. You don’t seem satisfied with me talking about it. I’m used to seeing it.”
“Eduardo, this is what I’d imagine the crowded horrors of a slave ship to be like.”
When the last of the U.S. troops assigned to the Panama Canal Zone left the country in 1999 as part of the handover of control of the Panama Canal to local authorities, all foreign military bases were repurposed to shelter the local populace. Along with Costa Rica, Panama today is one of the two hemispheric countries without a standing army; for its domestic security it relies upon a national police force. With an area of 78,200 square kilometers and a population of slightly over three million, Panama features a 225-kilometer long boundary with Colombia. The recent Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) threat to kidnap Panamanian politicians and police officers if its self-proclaimed, Marxist-Leninist, revolutionary guerrilla comrades are not hastily returned, should not be taken without alarm.
In recent years, as in other Central American Isthmus countries, there has been an intense increase in the volume of gang warfare in Panama. MS-13 - or Mara Salvatrucha - is the biggest and fastest-growing of the Latin American street gangs, with up to 60,000 maras active in El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico and, thanks to our porous and neglectful immigration policies, in more than 40 U.S. States.
The Future: Prosperity or Instability?
Panama is a beautiful country brimming with bright and personable positivity, a claim not subject to argument. Furthermore, it has the lowest inflation rate and the most stable economy in Latin America. Although only a little more than 30,000 square miles roughly the size of South Carolina Panama has plenty of faraway, remote spaces. Approximately 35% of the country is sheltered by National Parks and protected areas. Unlike more touristy eco-destinations in Mexico or Costa Rica, a traveler here often finds himself among the few visitors to even the most popular sites. Its fabulous, exotic beauty certainly has enough luster and excitement to keep beach bums, water sports enthusiasts, and eco-tourists smiling, but similar to other Latin American countries, the realistic grittiness and destitution of the daily life of the citizenry may shock. Before you visit do keep abreast of political happenings, as Panama’s future dangles precariously between visions of sublime Costa Rican prosperousness and problematic El Salvadoran volatility. Hopefully with ample external help from rich friends, including the U.S., and the constant influence of internal advocates of peaceful progressiveness, its road to economic and cultural prosperity will be unswerving.
At the Panama City airport, shortly before my departure, Eduardo seemed to best summarize the promise of Panama, with two sentences which struck me as strangely sentimental, if not beautiful, a blend of optimism and realism, blithe assumption and deeply embedded pessimism.
“Corruption and tyranny and war are the cancers of Latin America. War delights quarrelsome peoples, while God wastes his time creating stars and flowers.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|