Yvette's Inner Geek Blog

I forgot to mention the whole POINT of our trip to Boise, which was going to Colleen’s housewarming party on Saturday evening! Their house is adorable, with a backyard full of foliage and a very nice deck. We met their cool and laid-back Boise friends, snacked on snacks, drank some beer, and disappointed Colleen’s ten-year-old by not bringing Mario Party 8 with us so he could play it on his new Wii. Sorry, kiddo! We’ll bring it next time if you don’t have it by then.

Okay, so. Sunday morning, after being a little disturbed by how well I could hear the male and female voices in the hotel bathroom next door, Ben and I walked a few blocks to Boise’s Basque Block on Grove Street. Say what now? That’s right, Boise is home to the largest community of Basques (approx. 15,000) in the United States. We met up with Colleen, her hubby, her son, and her mom for brunch at Bardenay, a very cool restaurant and distillery.

It was a beautiful morning, but we opted to eat inside. After living in Utah for a few years, Ben and I were perhaps overly impressed by the beautiful bar taking up the length of the restaurant without any barriers or weird liquor laws. But we were rightfully impressed by their selection of breakfast cocktails on the menu. I opted instead to drink coffee and eat “Bardenay French Toast,” which was a miracle breakfast food dipped in orange/cinnamon batter and dusted with powdered sugar… served with a side of Basque-style chorizo and rosemary red potatoes. Except I substituted eggs for the potatoes because, truth be told, I’m not a huge fan of potatoes. So, no, I didn’t eat any Idago potatoes.

The meal was still delicious, and the company was lovely. We parted ways, promised to come back to Boise, and took a nice stroll back to the hotel parking garage. The Basque Museum and Cultural Center was right across the street from Bardenay, but it was closed, so, with a sigh of relief from Ben, we kept walking. He hates going to museums with me because I find EVERYTHING interesting. Sor-ry!

According to Colleen, the sheep-friendly Idaho hills attracted the Basque people. I can see that. I visited my grandfather while he was still alive and living in Hossegor, which is a resort town in Southwestern France very close to Basque country. I’ve tasted Basque cuisine and driven through the hilly countryside, where at times the car was stopped on the narrow road by a herd of sheep passing by with a lone (and very tan) sheepherder. Like to the point where we couldn’t open the car doors because the sheep were thumping against the car on all sides. So I can see how the Idaho countryside would attract people from that area.

(When I was 13 and stayed in Hossegor for a few weeks, my step-grandmother took me to a Basque museum/store where I learned about the culture and famous tradition of high-quality weaving and subsequently fell in love with the style of traditional Basque linens (linge Basque in French). It was something like the Basque Eco-museum in St Jean de Luz, but that was established in 1999 which was a few years too late for me to have visited. Maybe I saw an early version of Jean-Vier‘s headquarters before it was an official museum. My mom gave me a set of linge Basque table linens a few years ago after her last trip to France, but I’ve never used them because there hasn’t been an occasion special enough, you know?)

Right. Boise’s Basque Block evoked some older memories beyond the cool factor. Another cool thing in Boise was this faux-crack on the side of this building (maybe Colleen can enlighten us in the comments section with what building this is?). It had little misting jets to cool down passersby—not to worry, we did not let them dampen our spirits, hardee har har!

We finally made it back to the car and returned to Interstate 84 less than 24 hours after arriving in Boise. Based on the information we received at the Twin Falls Visitor Information center on Saturday, however, we elected to take a detour along Route 30, the “Thousand Springs Scenic Byway,” which followed the Snake River. So we ditched I-84 at Bliss, population 275.

Bliss was podunk and sadly desolate; truly the antithesis of its name. Its few businesses were in disrepair or perhaps closed forever. If it ever had a prime as an amusing stop for motor tourists like us, that time has long past. We saw one resident while we stopped to stretch our legs and take a photo of the welcome sign, and he was driving a bright red truck with two happy dogs in the truckbed, kicking up clouds of dust from the dirt road next to the silent railroad tracks. There was also a shrieking killdeer bird hanging around the sign that clearly wanted us out of his insect territory, dammit. So we drove on and left Bliss in the dust, so to speak.

We stopped at a “Fossil Beds” National Monument outside the tiny town of Hagerman—which boasted “Library of the Year” on a sign outside its library that was seriously smaller than a bookmobile. The “monument” consisted of a roadside sign and a gorgeous view (my photos do not do it justice). I’ve never seen black rocks before, and these looked particularly brilliant against the bright green hues from a rainy spring. Back in the car, this is what the road ahead of us looked like. Not too bad, eh?

There was another fossil bed scenic view not too far away, with a wooden plankway to a spot overlooking a crook in the Snake River. It was serene and quiet and I kind of wanted to build a house on top of all those fossils (that were supposedly somewhere in the striations of the cliffs; they were too far away for me to make anything out) just for the view. Oh, and the birds. There was a pelican in the water and what we determined (with the help of a sign nearby) was an osprey flying overhead. But it might have been an American White Pelican based on what Teh Internet is telling me today. Either way, that thing was huge.

There was a smaller bird that kept shrieking at us from the top of a telephone pole to leave his habitat, just like the killdeer in Bliss, so we moved on. We wanted to stop at Shoshone Falls and get back on the freeway before dark.

Shoshone Falls, according to the Twin Falls Visitor Center Man, has been dry for the last six years because of drought. This year there the falls were running again, and we happened to be driving through during the peak three weeks of rushing water flow. So we veered down a windy road lined with rocky cliffs and ponied up three bucks to enter a park… and suddenly found ourselves facing the 212-feet-high “Niagara of the West.” Once again, my photos do not do this place justice. There are lots more on my Flickr photostream.

The roaring water, the fine mist swirling around faces and through parched desert-lungs. People of all kinds lingering, drawn to this place for their own reasons. We hung around for a while, enjoying the day, enjoying the view, and enjoying each other’s company. We haven’t celebrated the anniversary of our first date since we were married, but May 11, 2009 marked ten years of us being a couple. As the sun started to set, we returned to the road—one decade of adventures, misadventures, accomplishments, and changes of direction behind us, and hopefully many more in our future.

Springtime in Seattle

Originally uploaded by innergeek

Ben and I are visiting Seattle for a few days, and I don’t know what people are talking about regarding the cloudy/rainy weather. It was beautiful today! Check out all the photos I took by clicking that link over there on the right.

We arrived Wednesday evening and made our way to the Taphouse Grill downtown for dinner. The food was delicious (I had the coconut curry with rice noodles and tofu; Ben had a salmon burger that didn’t taste “fishy” at all). Unfortunately, we only got to try a few of the 160 beers on tap… Ben liked the Scottish Kilt Lifter beer and I liked the Baron Maibock from my sampler.

We didn’t stay out too late because we had to get up for a 10am Savor Seattle food tour of Pike Place Market.

The food tour was great—we learned a lot about the history of the market as we went through, and were fed lots of yummy samples. Freshly fried mini doughnuts, Market Spice tea, various smoked salmons, chowder (clam and seafood for everyone else, coconut-based vegan for me because of a shellfish allergy), piroshky, muscot grapes, Beecher’s handmade cheese (their gourmet Mac & Cheese is really incredible), chocolate covered cherries, and Etta’s crab cakes (where I had cornbread pudding as an alternate and I think that was my favorite thing on the tour, even though it doesn’t sound like much, ZZOMG it is the best!). The tour guides were fun (normally there would be only one, but Stephanie was training David) and if you visit Seattle in the future, I would recommend starting your trip out with this tour of Pike Place.

As I said before, the day was gorgeous, so we spent a lot of time walking around the market after the tour. The craft stalls had really cool stuff, and we found a small hand-blown blue glass pumpkin that had to come home with us. We mostly made notes of where to go back so that we didn’t spend all of our money at once… though we very easily could have. I fell in love with some sizable forged steel and blown glass lamps by Paul Petersen. They’re a couple hundred dollars each, so I’m not sure we would actually get one at this point. But they are absolutely on my WANT list. I just loved them. The one in the photo here was at least 24 inches tall.

There were (permit-holding) street buskers all over the market and at designated places along the sidewalk who added to the atmosphere of cool. Also, we spotted two women sharing a tender moment on a side street in front of a park. You don’t see that every day in Utah…

After our food tour, there were still several stalls that offered free samples. I really loved the Fireweed Honey at Moon Valley Honey, which Ben thinks would turn into some incredibly yummy handmade meade.  The potato leek soup at La Buona Tavola was good—but even better after an eyedropper of “instant happiness” (aka white truffle oil) was infused into it. We were lured into the store to taste some 12-year-old aged cherry balsamic vinegar, and would have purchased some if it weren’t for the fact that is was $50 a bottle. I was almost ready to become a world-traveling professional balsamic vinegar taster after that. The Savor Seattle tour guide had also told us about one of her favorite wines made from muscot grapes (which, if you’ve never tried them, taste nothing like how you imagine grapes tasting and everything like you imagine ambrosia tasting) that was sold at this shop. The really friendly guy at La Buona Tavola gave us a sample of the award-winning 2008 Tre Donne “Moscato d’Asti” wine imported from Italy, and we couldn’t walk away without taking the bottle with us. Now the question is, will it last long enough to make the trip home with us? We would have to put it in our suitcase, so I’m not sure…..

We also got a free sample of Pappardelle’s Dark Chocolate Linguine and had trouble resisting its chocolatey temptation. Truth is, chocolate is not as dear to me as it is for most women, but this was damn fine tasting pasta—and it wasn’t even cooked yet. The dry samples were definitely good enough to eat in copious quantities. And recipes were included with each package that included ingredients like vanilla ice cream and fresh fruit (on top of PASTA!) so you better believe that a package of this stuff went straight into our suitcase.

The girl who initially offered us the sample—and then schmoozed us with her great sense of humor—let me take this photo of her. I missed her name, but she was fun and I told her about my blog so maybe she’ll stop by and tell us who she is so she can be Internet Famous. Or maybe I’ll walk by the booth again in the next couple days and ask her myself!

Btw, the “lime cilantro linguini” next to the chocolate stuff in the photo? Gross. Cilantro makes me sick. (I have to be very careful when eating Mexican, Thai, etc.)

We rounded out the day with a lovely dinner and lively conversation at my cousins’ house near the University district, where we were served a fresh salmon steak and then savored some mini cheesecakes we picked up at The Confectional at Pike Place. We took a bus to get to their house from downtown, and en route had an engaging conversation with an older guy sitting near us who has lived in Seattle for 40 years. “Everything is an exception here,” he said with fondness.

The guide book that I browsed through before coming to Seattle had said that people in Seattle are “cool,” in that they’re more aloof. I have not had that impression at all here. We really like Seattle. The people seem very laid back and “cool,” if by “cool” you mean fun and friendly.

While browsing through 50 vintage-style photos of current stars here on Listal, the one I felt had the most geek cred was of Carlo Gugino (who plays the original Silk Spectre in the Watchmen movie) playing chess—and oh, yes, she is touching your piece before the game has even started.

The rest aren’t really geeky, but some are very cool. From what I can tell, the person who compiled the list just nabbed photos from all over the web with the loose theme of current celebrities in a pin-up style. Some were more slutty than sexy, and many were vintage-ish but the photography didn’t match the style or they were anachronistic.

These ones were the closest to what I think of as True Vintage Pin-Up: Read more…

I have an evening class on Tuesdays, and walked to my car around 9:30 with a classmate last night. It was cold, but we stood around talking for a couple minutes and bonding over irritation for an obnoxious new guy in our class group. Then we both turned our heads at an odd noise in the mostly-empty parking lot: there was a gray-haired man sweeping a long, white cane in front of him and tapping it along the cement curb about 40 feet away from us.

Obviously blind, or at least mostly blind, he was walking at a steady, confident pace, so we continued our conversation. Then the noise changed and we glanced over again; he had turned the other way, then back again, and had a frustrated look on his face.

“Should we see if he needs help?” Becca whispered, echoing my own thoughts. We walked a few steps toward the man and she called out, “Do you need any help finding your car?”

I cringed at her question.

“No,” he said curtly. “I don’t HAVE a car.” His khaki trench coat swayed as he walked on. We stood there awkwardly for a moment, half shrugging our shoulders and not quite knowing what to do next. Was he trying to find the bus stop, or was he heading into the building? Had he accidentally turned off the sidewalk? If that were me, how the hell would I have known what to do without relying on a stranger’s assistance?

We had just turned around to go back to our cars when he called out in an irritated voice, “Where’s the entrance to this parking lot?”

Becca redeemed herself by telling him he was headed in the right direction, it was just a little farther—yep, almost there—and he turned back onto the sidewalk and crossed the street. I made a mental note to adjust my pedestrian vigilance while driving on campus.

I said good night to Becca and we got into our cars. She drove off right away, but I let my car warm up a little first. As I shivered, I watched the man as he continued walking confidently away from campus. He should have turned after crossing the street to reach the bus stop. My car’s thermometer read 30 degrees.

I was faced with the dilemma of wanting to help but not being sure if he needed help or would even accept it if offered. I didn’t want to offend him, but I also didn’t want him to get lost and walk around all night in freezing temperatures.

I finally decided that if it were me, or if it were a stubborn late-middle-aged relative, I would appreciate a stranger showing some polite concern—even at the risk of causing offense. There weren’t any other cars in sight, so I pulled up next to him and rolled down the passenger side window. It crossed my mind that this kind of scenario might stereotypically result in a “Hey baby, need a ride?” with cat call, but instead I said, “Excuse me, sir?”

He paused to listen, and a half smile spread across the left side of his face as I stammered my question.

“I was with the… other girl… back in the parking lot? And I just wanted to… make sure… you, uh… didn’t need any, uh… extra assistance?”

“No,” he said. “I’m fine.” His tone was more calm than it had been before.

“Okay,” I said.

“Thank you,” he added, with a little wave of his free hand.

“You’re welcome.” I rolled up my window and drove off. Yes, I thought, that was the right thing to do. I would not have liked to go home and wonder for the rest of my life if he’d actually needed help but was too proud to ask for it.

So what would you have done in that situation? What lines do you draw when you come across someone who you believe might benefit from the assistance of a stranger? Did I overstep my bounds? Would you have offered him a ride? I’m soliciting your opinions.

How do you ask a blind man if he needs help?