b.b.'s Pictures

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. These are pictures I took at b.b.'s in the San Marco area of Jacksonville.

Salt

Salt might seem like a weird subject to write about, but author Mark Kurlansky makes it interesting. he put out a book in 2002 called Salt: A World History. Anyone who likes historical minutiae or loves knowing about food history will dig it.

Salt sits on every restaurant table today, but in bygone times it was tremendously valued. Like any substance that humanity places a value on, it has its own mythos and customs. People have sweated and died for the stuff. Wars have been fought for the sake of salt. Probably more blood has been split over salt than any other substance, even oil, which is relatively young as a substance of value.

Salt has so many uses and so rich a history that it has been a symbol for many things, often at cross purposes: for sexuality as well as for purity. The author of this magnificent and well researched book speaks salt in fairy-tales, of industries dependent on salt and salt's preservative powers. It's not hard to see the grandeur of salt when Kurlansky writes of it, as it preserved the Egyptian dead and raised empires.

But here's a taste, just the first section of his intro:

"I BOUGHT THE rock in Spanish Catalonia, in the rundown hillside mining town of Cardona. An irregular pink trapezoid with elongated, curved indentations etched on its surface by raindrops, it had an odd translucence and appeared to be a cross between rose quartz and soap. The resemblance to soap came from the fact that it dissolved in water and its edges were worn smooth like a used soap bar.

I paid too much for it -- nearly fifteen dollars. But it was, after all, despite a rosy blush of magnesium, almost pure salt, a piece of the famous salt mountain of Cardona. The various families that had occupied the castle atop the next mountain had garnered centuries of wealth from such rock.

I took it home and kept it on a windowsill. One day it got rained on, and white salt crystals started appearing on the pink. My rock was starting to look like salt, which would ruin its mystique. So I rinsed off the crystals with water. Then I spent fifteen minutes carefully patting the rock dry. By the next day it was sitting in a puddle of brine that had leached out of the rock. The sun hit the puddle of clear water. After a few hours, square white crystals began to appear in the puddle. Solar evaporation was turning brine into salt crystals.

For a while it seemed I had a magical stone that would perpetually produce brine puddles. Yet the rock never seemed to get smaller. Sometimes in dry weather it would appear to completely dry out, but on a humid day, a puddle would again appear under it. I decided I could dry out the rock by baking it in a small toaster oven. Within a half hour white stalactites were drooping from the toaster grill. I left the rock on a steel radiator cover, but the brine threatened to corrode the metal. So I transferred it to a small copper tray. A green crust formed on the bottom, and when I rubbed off the discoloration, I found the copper had been polished.

My rock lived by its own rules. When friends stopped by, I told them the rock was salt, and they would delicately lick a corner and verify that it tasted just like salt.

Those who think a fascination with salt is a bizarre obsession have simply never owned a rock like this."

FLESH ART MEETS WALL ART

Like graffiti, tattoo art has had an effect on so-called "conventional" art. Tattoo artists are just that—artists. The difference is, they can't just scrap the canvas and go on to the next piece. Their canvas is the skin.

While the Bogda Art Gallery isn't exactly presenting traditional art, their recent show of tattoo art is an example of how far the idea of tattooing as an art has come in the last century.

The status of tattooing as an art has been elevated in recent years, making it more acceptable for people in all walks of life. Tats done on the neck and face still aren't accepted in corporate circles, but subtle tattoos everywhere else have made their way into the mainstream. In the twenty-five to twenty-nine year old age bracket, a whopping 36% of Americans have a tattoo. That's a higher percentage than the amount of Americans who smoke.

Tattooing has a long and rich history. In times past, it has been used to denote status in tribal cultures, sometimes telling you a person's trade, position and age. Tattoos have also been used to mark criminals and to communicate membership in secret societies, gangs and other groups.

These days folks get inked for some of the same reasons—to tell the world that they belong to a particular subculture, yes, but also that they love someone or that they love a particular style of art or just an idea. Many times a tattoo is symbolic of a life change. Whatever the reason, it's something that'll be with the person, sometimes for the rest of their lives (until they cover it up or have it lasered off).

Lots of tattoo artists have talent as artists, particularly those who work to design and develop tattoos. Custom tattoos have become the norm, and hardly anyone gets a design straight off the wall of tattoo examples.

Some of the art at the Bogda looks like it came straight from those walls a.k.a. "the handbook of typical tats." Skulls, hearts, swords and sparrows abound. If you've spent any amount of time in tattoo parlor, or if you tend to look at everyone's tats, you're going to get nostalgic and you might even want one: for your walls or for your skin.

Chris Ayalin's work, particularly the green snarling wolf surrounded by drops of blood and flies, is so over-the-top that you just have to love it, if only for the ludicrousness of it. I looked at that green wolf and realized that it was very possible that someone out there was permanently marked with something that looked like it belonged as the cover of a DIY death metal album.

Some of the canvas work is a surprise, like the Oriental-style gold leaf treatments from Stevie Floyd of Pegasus Gallery in St. Augustine. I also liked the goofy-looking giraffe from Brian Register of Peacocks Tattoo.

The most impressive pieces of artwork weren't on the walls, though, they were on the people hanging out at the opening. Flesh canvas Rob Shaffer modeled his arm, done in the style of a Hokusai Japanese wood block print. The artist was Stevie Floyd, who loves designing and tattooing Japanese artwork and Art Nouveau tats.

Stevie's prints were selling quickly at the opening. Most of the artwork displayed is fairly affordable, from $20 and up.
The Bogda will be showing work from various local tattoo artists through the 28th.

Life-altering Fruit

In my nearly never ending quest to find interesting foods and ingredients I keep a weather eye out for strange stuff on grocery shelves. I like the idea that merely one block away from your house is a place that holds the key to all these new experiences, experiences brought sometimes from half-way around the world.

This time I was in, of all places, a Wally World. Now, I try to avoid shopping here, but my nocturnal habits make it a necessary evil. It isn’t a place where I seek out the weird as far as food’s concerned (plenty of OTHER weird things happening in a Wally World to make up for it).

We were in the veggie and fruit sector when I saw something I had never seen before: TAMARILLO, it said, From NEW ZEALAND. Who was I to argue? There they lay, deep red with a slight shine to them, a lush burgundy waiting.

I picked it up. “What is it?” I asked my husband. “No clue,” he said, peering at the non-existent description that reasonably might have been under it in a Publix.

It was surrounded by peppers hot and peppers mild. “Maybe it’s some kind of hot pepper?” I asked hopefully. But there was no one to ask. Even at the best of times there is a distinct lack of knowledge amongst the produce handlers at a Wally World. Besides, there wasn’t a blue vest in sight.

So I took home my tamarillo. The tiny thing cost nearly $2 and confused our poor checkout girl. She helplessly flipped through her vegetable charts as the line behind us grew.

“Crap,” my husband said, looking back at the line of weary customers behind us “We’re THOSE people.” People of course, who hold up a line by having a ridiculously exotic item without a tag.

But we did make it through the line.

At home, I eyed my tamarillo as one would a potential nemesis. What was it? I wondered if I should just plunge a knife into it and find out.

And then there was the lure of the world wide web. Surely I could find out there. After all, the thing was in WAL-MART, it couldn’t be that terribly out of the ordinary.

To the interweb I went.

It wasn’t a pepper.

It wasn’t even a vegetable.

It was a fruit.

When I finally sliced it open, the center was filled with tiny, edible seeds, surrounded by a mild flesh. The taste of the tart fruit could best be described as a cross between tangerine and grapefruit. The texture in the center was a bit like pomegranate and the flesh around the center was the texture of a soft pear, a little less tart than the center of the fruit. I ended up loading it with brown sugar and scooping it from each half.

The tartness of the fruit lends itself well to chutneys, and it’s eaten as a breakfast fruit. It can be added to just about anything for just a bit of a mystery “zing.”

For recipes and a brief history of the fruit go to http://www.tamarillo.com

Where to get your Fishes!

I mostly eat fish when I go out, buying the occasional fillet at the market when the mood strikes. Because I don't buy fresh fish on a regular basis, I don't really know where to go--

Or I didn't, until I found Safe Harbor in Mayport.

Jacksonville tends to get a little compartmentalized, so not everybody is going to know about this place if they don't live in the area. If you live more than 20 minutes away, just grab a cooler to stick your fish in for the ride home.

Not only is it a great fish market, with shrimp right off the trawlers, they also have an informal restaurant that cooks up scallops, salmon, grouper, shrimp and all the essential underwater yummies in all kinds of preparations.

I'd say, if you haven't ever been over to Mayport, take a trip there this weekend. Go to Safe Harbor, enjoy the lunch and take home some fresh fish!

Safe Harbor Seafood Market. 4378 Ocean St Ste 3 Atlantic Beach, FL 32233


Market hours: Mon-Thu 9pm-5:30pm & Fri-Sat 9am-6pm

Marina Restaurant Mon-Sat 10am-8pm

Caribbean Food in Jax

There are more Caribbean Restaurants in the Jacksonville area than you'd think.
This week, I had to do a sidebar listing of as many Caribbean/Island eateries as I possibly could.

This was a tougher assignment than you might think.

First of all, half these places aren't even in the phone book. I know I missed some--like Rosetta's, because I didn't have time to drive out there and they never answered their phone.

Although I did travel around the city some, mostly I used the phone to gather info. I tell you, there's nothing like a thick Jamaican accent to aid in the art of miscommunication. That wasn't the only issue though--here I was, using my standard procedure, saying "Can you fax me a menu?" and the answer I get is "Our fax machine is down right now." After about the fifth one, I realized that most of these tiny places probably didn't even have fax machines. I just thought it was funny that each person on the phone at different restaurants decided that it was better not to admit that they didn't own one.

Anyway, Da Real Ting has the best jerk chicken. Too bad they're not open during normal business hours. The place is more like a club, opening at 9 pm- 3 am on Fridays & Saturdays and from 7 pm- 11 pm on Sundays. The crowd there can seem a little shady, but the chicken's worth it, damn it! Also, it's not the cleanest place I've ever been. It's still worth it.

But, if you're out and about during the day, Caribbean Sunrise Bakery is a great place to eat genuine Caribbean. Most people get their stuff to-go but the place is fairly clean and well run. Lots of kids get their beef patties there after school. The jerk chicken is very good and the oxtail is properly cooked. You might have had really tough oxtail in the past, but that isn't the case here. When cooked correctly, for a long period of time in wet heat (braised or stewed) oxtail can have an incredible flavor.

There are some downsides, like the neighborhood is a bit rundown and you're likely, as we were, to be approached by a panhandler with a well-rehearsed tale of woe, in which he needs just a few dollars to get home/eat food/fix his car. The guy that talked to us needed $16. I guess he was adjusting for inflation.

Autobots, Transform!

So, this new Transformers movie...I was waiting for it to come out with a mixed sense of anticipation and dread.

Anticipation because movie tech is able to do the 'bots justice and dread because movie scripts and plotlines suck ass these days. What if they did it badly? Would the pain be too much to bear?

Actually, the movie rocks. I think there are some fanbois out there that will disappointed in some of the changes and tweaks made to the 'bots, but by and large, those fanbois will be happy that they even made this...even if they hated it.
I had a few Transformer toys as a kid, but my nostalgia was sorta fuzzy. Unlike the guy that sat next to us at the preview performance, I do not have a tattoo of the Autobots logo and I can't name all the Decepticons.

But the movie jogged my memory and I even got a few "in-jokes."

The flick's weakest point is something it couldn't have done without-- Optimus Prime moralizing in a very deep voice, mostly about how humanity has a lot to learn but we have good in us, yada-yada...That's Prime alright...I'd forgotten how he tended to do that in the old series. No wonder Megatron always wanted to off him.

But I digress. My point here is that the film is worth seeing on the big screen, if only for the bad-ass robot fights.

Even if you know nothing about Transformers, you'll like the movie. (In fact, it might help.) The script is funny, the action movies swiftly and the perspective is human.
Read my official review from EU here: http://www.eujacksonville.com/pages/07-05-07/transformers.htm