An open letter to Fernando Gonzalez Corona (publisher) and Ruben Valdes (editor) of the Los Cabos Daily News:
Since returning to San Jose del Cabo three months ago, we've subscribed to the Daily News, looking forward each morning to its mix of international, financial, lifestyle and sports news, as well as the crossword puzzle.
We're now starting to pack up for our return to Northern California. When we come back to San Jose this fall or winter, I'd like to see some changes in the paper if we are to resume our subscription:
Mostly, I'd like to see more local news. This shouldn't be too difficult. I believe you also publish Spanish-language newspapers with a heavy focus on Baja California Sur generally and Los Cabos specifically. How difficult would it be to translate and include in the Daily News some of those articles? Not difficult at all, I suspect. I believe your ex-pat audience would be more interested in compelling local stories than articles on international events about which they already have been well briefed by CNN and other sources of televised news. By continuing to focus on news out of Washington, D.C., and New York City you are missing an opportunity to close a gap within Los Cabos, and that is the division between the local fulltime native population and the community of residents from elsewhere who live here perhaps only part of the year, but who nonetheless want to be active and positive members of the region. Every time there's a fire or some other incident at the estuary, for example, my wife and I want to know about it, but we never find any sort of report in the Daily News.
If nothing else, add a comprehensive and accurate calendar of local events. Residents who live in Los Cabos just part time but who would like to be a part of the local culture while they are here have no consistent and reliable source that I am aware of to become aware of and to participate in the terrific range of cultural events that occur in and about Los Cabos. Where can I find a schedule of soccer matches at that outstanding stadium in Cabo San Lucas? How do I learn of races at the magnificent velodrome in San Jose del Cabo? That's a goal you should recognize and capitalize on.
OK, I recognize that this sort of additional local coverage can be costly - more expensive than ripping and pasting feeds from The Washington Post and Bloomberg News - but you are missing a potentially lucrative revenue stream by ignoring restaurant news and restaurant advertising. By my experience, when family and friends come to Los Cabos they first want to know about the local culinary scene - where to eat, where to find values, who is doing the most exciting cooking, what's the story behind that cafe or that food stall at the municipal market? You don't have to publish restaurant reviews, just a column of news items about what's new, what you've discovered, and what's inspired this chef or that restaurateur. I'm a longtime journalist, now largely retired, who spent many years reviewing restaurants. I'm not looking for work, just passing on what I consider a valid observation from my experience, and that is that people love to eat out, especially when they are on holiday, and welcome informed and fair guidance.
Finally, I'd like to see more news in the Daily News from the western U.S. I sense that if you were to canvass your readership you would find that it consists mostly of people from California, the Pacific Northwest and Canada. Your current news sources only occasionally cover the issues and personalities of those regions, however. While I admire The Washington Post and the breadth and depth of its coverage, I think you would better serve your readership if you also subscribed to such syndicates as the Los Angeles Times and McClatchy News Service, the latter of which I have had a longterm relationship, though in a modest role.
Please take my suggestions in the spirit in which they are intended: I enjoy the feel of newsprint in my hands each morning, and just want the contents of the paper I'm holding, in this instance the Daily News, to be more compelling, more successful and more influential among local residents, whether they live here fulltime or part-time.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Halfway There, We Hope
I've got it, a solution to the immigration issues poisoning what could be a mutually beneficial relationship between the United States and Mexico. I saw the light almost by accident, and, ironically, in Mexico itself. In short, all United States authorities need to do to resolve today's acrimonious debates over immigration is to adopt the same sort of measures that Mexico imposes on immigrants who want to work in the country, stay longer than six months, take advantage of medical services and own property: Compel them to get an FM2 or FM3 visa.
I'm not sure what FM2 and FM3 means, though wags in Mexico glibly refer to them as Foreign Moron Second Class and Foreign Moron Third Class. Whatever, one or the other is supposed to facilitate ordinary life in Mexico for expats, from getting through the airport to transferring property. We were told this a few years ago by various people who long have lived in Mexico. At that time we were starting to entertain thoughts of residing part-time in Baja California Sur. We bought their advice, and soon after we bought our casa we applied for our FM3 visas. Since getting them, I haven't realized any advantages, but I also haven't tried to find a job.
Instead, our FM3s have become a source of frustration, confusion and anger, but only on the day when we begin the annual renewal process, precisely one month before they are to expire. You have to do this in person in Mexico. The ritual starts with a trek to immigration headquarters in Cabo San Lucas. There, you first stand in line outside, then you and a dozen or so others dash upstairs to queue up again. (You should see the wheelchair ramp in this place. I've never seen anyone in a wheelchair actually attempt to go up or down it, but skateboarders practically droll at the steep, narrow and frightening challenge it offers; I tried to take a photo but the security officer stationed at the foot of the ramp grabbed me as if I were from Sinaloa, packing heat. He pointed to a sign indicating that no cellphones or cameras are to be used in the building. Meanwhile, at the top of the ramp, many of the people waiting to process their papers are on their cellphones.)
But back to renewing our FM3s. Here's what this year's exercise entailed, starting this past Thursday:
- A two-hour wait in the immigration office. There's a TV overhead, but it wasn't on. Every sign in the place is in Spanish. All the clerks speak almost solely Spanish, with little English. That's OK, it's Mexico, where Spanish is the dominant language, and anyone who lives there even part time probably should know enough to get by. Still, it is an immigration office, with most of the clients English speaking.
- After two hours, we're called up. We've been through this before. We know what to expect. We're ready. We've come with everything we've been directed to bring in the past: Copies of our three most recent bank statements to verify that we're more or less solvent and won't become a burden on the state's welfare services; our passports; our FM3s; copies of our most recent electricity bill to confirm that we're property owners. All this paperwork is enclosed in the required vanilla folders. (The people with blue folders are attorneys or agents who expats can hire for a fee of generally around $150 per FM3. They get to line up separately, though I'm not sure the service they get is any faster. A lot of them are Mexican women in tight pants and amazingly high platform shoes with spiked heels. The speed with which they can dash across the room in those shoes when their name is called is about the only entertainment you'll get if you didn't bring a good book.)
- The clerk flips through our paperwork quickly. He sighs, then tells us we don't have the new forms that have been required since late January. One of them has to be completed online. He points to a desk with a computer in the corner. He says if we have any questions about operating the computer ask the person in the information kiosk next to the desk. Neither then nor any time subsequently did we ever see anyone manning the information kiosk. We log on and find that all the questions are in tortured bureaucratic Spanish. A woman in line waiting to use the computer offers to help us maneuver through this minefield so she can get on with her own business. That task finished, we turn to the second form, to be answered by hand. The questions are surprisingly personal and dubiously relevant, but we proceed to fill in the blanks that ask about our race, education, complexion, height, weight, tattoos or scars, children, occupation, monthly income and religion (if I put down "Catholic" might that expedite the process, I wonder).
- Back to the counter, where the clerk notes that our names on the printout from the computer don't precisely match our names on our passports. We point out that the computer form asks for our names as they appear on our passports or on some other official identification. Because we are renewing our FM3s, we figure that our names on the form should be as they appear on the FM3s. We've figured wrong. The clerk insists that our names should be exactly on the form as they are on our passports. He directs us back to the computer to redo and reprint the forms.
- Back to the counter. He asks where our photos are. In the FM3s, we indicate. Nope, we need new ones, in color. By this time it's 1 p.m. We've been in the office four hours. The office is open weekdays only from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. (I thought the same thing: Who handles their collective bargaining?) By this time we're thoroughly beaten down. We leave, find a small nearby photo shop whose only business is taking photos for visas. It's fast and relatively cheap - 120 pesos each, about $10. Next, we find a bank where we can pay our annual renewal fee, precisely 1,294 pesos each (about $110), and it must be paid in pesos only, no credit cards, no checks, no Unites States currency.
- We return to the immigration office first thing next morning, again joining the lines. The night before I've reviewed every possible contingency, and made backup copies of even backup copies. Nonetheless, I'm not confident that every base has been covered. The contradictions and delays of the day before were rattling, and I remind myself to adopt the attitude of the woman who'd stepped up to help us. She said she continually tells herself well before she gets to the office that "this is immigration day." She doesn't plan to get anything else done this day; she exercises her upmost patience; and she tries to keep smiling. I kept repeating that mantra, especially when the clerk asks the whereabouts of the two additional copies we were to have of our payment at the bank the day before. Yikes, I hadn't known we were to do that. But just as we were about to head out of the office in search of a copy shop, we ask if he might just make the required copies on the copy machine behind him. I feel uneasy about this, figuring we've already gone through a ream of paper and a printer cartridge, but he agrees, so I get over it.
- With that, he flips through the papers in one folder, then the other, shuffling, stacking, stamping and stappling. He then gives us a "very important paper," basically our receipt, which we are to bring to the office to pick up our new FM3 visas, anticipated in about a month. He points to a website address on the form and says we could go there anytime to check on the progress of our application. I've tried, following the directions over and over, but get a message that the page doesn't exist. We'll wait a week or two, then start calling the immigration office to find if our new FM3s are in.
I know what you're thinking: If only the immigration process in the U.S. were this onerous all those immigrants would beat a hasty retreat home. I'm not suggesting that at all. I've no idea what immigrants in the U.S. face if they hope to stay in the country for an extended time and perhaps find a job, go to school and buy property. The system in the States could be so daunting that it alone explains why some immigrants ignore it, but I doubt that. At the least, every direction will be in Spanish as well as English.
The Mexican bureaucracy is legendary for its finicky and rigid ways. The unprecedented computer station at the immigration office on our most recent visits, however, is an encouraging sign. Maybe the process gradually will become more logical and less irksome. (Oddly, not once on any of the forms we filled out were we asked an email address so immigration officials could keep us abreast of changes in their standards, which seem to happen annually.) Despite the computer, however, we went through more paperwork than usual, and clerks looked to be using no fewer rubber stamps, paper clips and glue sticks than ever. The clerks, incidentally, were never obtuse or mean-spirited, just equally unprepared in the details of the new procedures.
For sure, the Mexican system is inefficient, awkward and costly, yet we feel compelled to abide by it so we can be seen and treated as good neighbors. I wouldn't want to wish it on anyone, but I've a hunch the comparable means to allow immigrants to buy property, pay taxes and the like in the U.S. is more streamlined. Nonetheless, it apparently isn't perceived as being as necessary to live by as the visa procedure in Mexico, or it wouldn't be shrugged off as casually as it is. What I'd like to see is some sort of reciprocity between the two nations, so that immigrants from one country to the other can know beforehand what's expected of them and can comply with minimum hassle.
Given the traditions, history and proximity of Mexico and the United States, you'd think there could be more understanding and cooperation between the two countries. But relations appear to be nearly as strained as ever, with that grim fence snaking along the border a depressing symbol of political and diplomatic ineptitude in both countries. With leadership and imagination, politicians and diplomats should be able to come up with a relatively easy and encouraging way for citizens of both countries to cross the border and pursue their dreams in a manner beneficial to all concerned. That day seems far off, given the acrimony and fear generated by overheated differences concerning guns, drugs and illegal immigration. Nevertheless, we can hope.
I'm not sure what FM2 and FM3 means, though wags in Mexico glibly refer to them as Foreign Moron Second Class and Foreign Moron Third Class. Whatever, one or the other is supposed to facilitate ordinary life in Mexico for expats, from getting through the airport to transferring property. We were told this a few years ago by various people who long have lived in Mexico. At that time we were starting to entertain thoughts of residing part-time in Baja California Sur. We bought their advice, and soon after we bought our casa we applied for our FM3 visas. Since getting them, I haven't realized any advantages, but I also haven't tried to find a job.
Instead, our FM3s have become a source of frustration, confusion and anger, but only on the day when we begin the annual renewal process, precisely one month before they are to expire. You have to do this in person in Mexico. The ritual starts with a trek to immigration headquarters in Cabo San Lucas. There, you first stand in line outside, then you and a dozen or so others dash upstairs to queue up again. (You should see the wheelchair ramp in this place. I've never seen anyone in a wheelchair actually attempt to go up or down it, but skateboarders practically droll at the steep, narrow and frightening challenge it offers; I tried to take a photo but the security officer stationed at the foot of the ramp grabbed me as if I were from Sinaloa, packing heat. He pointed to a sign indicating that no cellphones or cameras are to be used in the building. Meanwhile, at the top of the ramp, many of the people waiting to process their papers are on their cellphones.)
But back to renewing our FM3s. Here's what this year's exercise entailed, starting this past Thursday:
- A two-hour wait in the immigration office. There's a TV overhead, but it wasn't on. Every sign in the place is in Spanish. All the clerks speak almost solely Spanish, with little English. That's OK, it's Mexico, where Spanish is the dominant language, and anyone who lives there even part time probably should know enough to get by. Still, it is an immigration office, with most of the clients English speaking.
- After two hours, we're called up. We've been through this before. We know what to expect. We're ready. We've come with everything we've been directed to bring in the past: Copies of our three most recent bank statements to verify that we're more or less solvent and won't become a burden on the state's welfare services; our passports; our FM3s; copies of our most recent electricity bill to confirm that we're property owners. All this paperwork is enclosed in the required vanilla folders. (The people with blue folders are attorneys or agents who expats can hire for a fee of generally around $150 per FM3. They get to line up separately, though I'm not sure the service they get is any faster. A lot of them are Mexican women in tight pants and amazingly high platform shoes with spiked heels. The speed with which they can dash across the room in those shoes when their name is called is about the only entertainment you'll get if you didn't bring a good book.)
- The clerk flips through our paperwork quickly. He sighs, then tells us we don't have the new forms that have been required since late January. One of them has to be completed online. He points to a desk with a computer in the corner. He says if we have any questions about operating the computer ask the person in the information kiosk next to the desk. Neither then nor any time subsequently did we ever see anyone manning the information kiosk. We log on and find that all the questions are in tortured bureaucratic Spanish. A woman in line waiting to use the computer offers to help us maneuver through this minefield so she can get on with her own business. That task finished, we turn to the second form, to be answered by hand. The questions are surprisingly personal and dubiously relevant, but we proceed to fill in the blanks that ask about our race, education, complexion, height, weight, tattoos or scars, children, occupation, monthly income and religion (if I put down "Catholic" might that expedite the process, I wonder).
- Back to the counter, where the clerk notes that our names on the printout from the computer don't precisely match our names on our passports. We point out that the computer form asks for our names as they appear on our passports or on some other official identification. Because we are renewing our FM3s, we figure that our names on the form should be as they appear on the FM3s. We've figured wrong. The clerk insists that our names should be exactly on the form as they are on our passports. He directs us back to the computer to redo and reprint the forms.
- Back to the counter. He asks where our photos are. In the FM3s, we indicate. Nope, we need new ones, in color. By this time it's 1 p.m. We've been in the office four hours. The office is open weekdays only from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. (I thought the same thing: Who handles their collective bargaining?) By this time we're thoroughly beaten down. We leave, find a small nearby photo shop whose only business is taking photos for visas. It's fast and relatively cheap - 120 pesos each, about $10. Next, we find a bank where we can pay our annual renewal fee, precisely 1,294 pesos each (about $110), and it must be paid in pesos only, no credit cards, no checks, no Unites States currency.
- We return to the immigration office first thing next morning, again joining the lines. The night before I've reviewed every possible contingency, and made backup copies of even backup copies. Nonetheless, I'm not confident that every base has been covered. The contradictions and delays of the day before were rattling, and I remind myself to adopt the attitude of the woman who'd stepped up to help us. She said she continually tells herself well before she gets to the office that "this is immigration day." She doesn't plan to get anything else done this day; she exercises her upmost patience; and she tries to keep smiling. I kept repeating that mantra, especially when the clerk asks the whereabouts of the two additional copies we were to have of our payment at the bank the day before. Yikes, I hadn't known we were to do that. But just as we were about to head out of the office in search of a copy shop, we ask if he might just make the required copies on the copy machine behind him. I feel uneasy about this, figuring we've already gone through a ream of paper and a printer cartridge, but he agrees, so I get over it.
- With that, he flips through the papers in one folder, then the other, shuffling, stacking, stamping and stappling. He then gives us a "very important paper," basically our receipt, which we are to bring to the office to pick up our new FM3 visas, anticipated in about a month. He points to a website address on the form and says we could go there anytime to check on the progress of our application. I've tried, following the directions over and over, but get a message that the page doesn't exist. We'll wait a week or two, then start calling the immigration office to find if our new FM3s are in.
I know what you're thinking: If only the immigration process in the U.S. were this onerous all those immigrants would beat a hasty retreat home. I'm not suggesting that at all. I've no idea what immigrants in the U.S. face if they hope to stay in the country for an extended time and perhaps find a job, go to school and buy property. The system in the States could be so daunting that it alone explains why some immigrants ignore it, but I doubt that. At the least, every direction will be in Spanish as well as English.
The Mexican bureaucracy is legendary for its finicky and rigid ways. The unprecedented computer station at the immigration office on our most recent visits, however, is an encouraging sign. Maybe the process gradually will become more logical and less irksome. (Oddly, not once on any of the forms we filled out were we asked an email address so immigration officials could keep us abreast of changes in their standards, which seem to happen annually.) Despite the computer, however, we went through more paperwork than usual, and clerks looked to be using no fewer rubber stamps, paper clips and glue sticks than ever. The clerks, incidentally, were never obtuse or mean-spirited, just equally unprepared in the details of the new procedures.
For sure, the Mexican system is inefficient, awkward and costly, yet we feel compelled to abide by it so we can be seen and treated as good neighbors. I wouldn't want to wish it on anyone, but I've a hunch the comparable means to allow immigrants to buy property, pay taxes and the like in the U.S. is more streamlined. Nonetheless, it apparently isn't perceived as being as necessary to live by as the visa procedure in Mexico, or it wouldn't be shrugged off as casually as it is. What I'd like to see is some sort of reciprocity between the two nations, so that immigrants from one country to the other can know beforehand what's expected of them and can comply with minimum hassle.
Given the traditions, history and proximity of Mexico and the United States, you'd think there could be more understanding and cooperation between the two countries. But relations appear to be nearly as strained as ever, with that grim fence snaking along the border a depressing symbol of political and diplomatic ineptitude in both countries. With leadership and imagination, politicians and diplomats should be able to come up with a relatively easy and encouraging way for citizens of both countries to cross the border and pursue their dreams in a manner beneficial to all concerned. That day seems far off, given the acrimony and fear generated by overheated differences concerning guns, drugs and illegal immigration. Nevertheless, we can hope.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Flat Tire At The Velodrome
When not in San Jose del Cabo, I'm generally in Sacramento, in northern California, variously also known as Alta California, Upper California and Superior California, all of which suggest some sort of inferiority complex. What I'm about to report won't help that, but it also could provide inspiration for Sacramentans to keep the momentum going.
I recently read on The Sacramento Bee's website a feature about the hopes of some city residents to build a velodrome, an oval track with steeply pitched walls on which cyclists can go as fast as they want and are able. In a sense, it's surprising that Sacramento doesn't already have a velodrome, given how many avid cyclists live in and about the city. Then again, there's always the American River Parkway, basically a bikepath that challenges cyclists for its more than 20 miles. But for racing, nothing apparently beats a velodrome, and consequently almost all of the more than 80 comments attached to The Bee feature endorsed the notion of building a velodrome in Sacramento.
The story reminded me that San Jose del Cabo has a stunning velodrome, which I hadn't yet visited during my current stay in the settlement, in large part because while I enjoy some cycling I'm not particularly interested in the sport as either viewer or participant. I saw Lance Armstrong pedal through Sacramento not long ago and found that about as exciting as watching the Daytona 500. Nevertheless, I made my way today up to San Jose's handsome velodrome, perched high on a hillside on the northwestern outskirts of the community. The velodrome is next to a large soccer complex, and flanked by basketball courts, all of which offer striking views of the Sea of Cortez. A cool breeze was blowing across the setting as the sun began to dip behind the mountains to the west. The whole complex represents a substantial monetary investment, even though getting there requires passing a barrio of lean-tos.
I've no idea whether that proximity explains the sorry state of the velodrome, but to judge by the littered grounds and the extent of the graffiti inside and out of the velodrome someone looks to be mightily irked by its presence. The track remains in fine shape, though a guy on hand to help coach the young cycling team in its practice session was reduced to spending a chunk of his time sweeping debris from the track. The velodrome is only around 18 months old, but municipal officials, he indicated, have dropped the ball in maintaining the facility and in providing adequate security. Come back early next month, he said encouragingly, for what promises to be a spirited meet involving several cycling teams.
What's the lesson here for Sacramento? Build a velodrome, but just make sure the money and interest are there to maintain the facility. Actually, from what I've also been reading, the city's NBA franchise, the Kings, may not long be in the community, leaving vacant a basketball pavilion that just maybe could be retrofitted into a velodrome. And with air conditioning, someting the velodrome at San Jose del Cabo doesn't have, though it does have all that sunshine and those caressing marine breezes.
I recently read on The Sacramento Bee's website a feature about the hopes of some city residents to build a velodrome, an oval track with steeply pitched walls on which cyclists can go as fast as they want and are able. In a sense, it's surprising that Sacramento doesn't already have a velodrome, given how many avid cyclists live in and about the city. Then again, there's always the American River Parkway, basically a bikepath that challenges cyclists for its more than 20 miles. But for racing, nothing apparently beats a velodrome, and consequently almost all of the more than 80 comments attached to The Bee feature endorsed the notion of building a velodrome in Sacramento.
What's the lesson here for Sacramento? Build a velodrome, but just make sure the money and interest are there to maintain the facility. Actually, from what I've also been reading, the city's NBA franchise, the Kings, may not long be in the community, leaving vacant a basketball pavilion that just maybe could be retrofitted into a velodrome. And with air conditioning, someting the velodrome at San Jose del Cabo doesn't have, though it does have all that sunshine and those caressing marine breezes.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
No Menu, Just Delightful Dining
The Wall Street Journal has discovered restaurants without menus. This may be news in New York, but not in San Jose del Cabo, where for five years this month Casiano Reyes has eschewed menus at his intimate Restaurante Casianos.
We returned to the restaurant last night for our Valentine's Day dinner. The restaurant is in a depressed office and commercial complex on the southwest side of town, just above a urine-scented access to the beach. But once through the restaurant's curtained entry you're in a different world, where polished sophistication holds forth. The classy design runs vaguely to French and Spanish traditionalism. Black-clad servers were attentive and smart. For some reason, whenever we visit Casianos I expect to see George Clooney, a not-infrequent visitor to Los Cabos, according to the local press. Last night, however, no George, but there was some guy with the heft and confidence of a professional football player, though I couldn't place him without his jersey.
At any rate, diners are greeted with a parmesan breadstick that would please Biba Caggiano, a tray with a selection of fresh lemon, lime or mint to go in your glasses of water, and a question about whether you have any dietary restrictions. No menu is handed over, just an opportunity to specify whether you want the three-course meal or the five course.
Once that's resolved, a basket with four kinds of warm breads arrive, followed soon after by plate after plate of what Reyes calls "spontaneous cuisine." His intent is to surprise guests and leave them delighted by both their adventurous spirit and his precise cookery, perhaps best classified as New-Wave Mexican. Traditional staples of the Baja diet make their appearance, but in totally original presentations. Sweet scallops were sweetened even more with a concentrated puree of sun-dried tomatoes. The brightness and juiciness of finely diced watermelon contrasted with the crackle of its accompanying fried goat-cheese ravioli. A creamy corn sauce and a puree of beets lit up the lobster medallion with their earthy sweetness. A filet of sea bass covered with lentil scales floated on a sea of pureed green beans.
Filet mignon and New York steak aren't my favorite cuts of beef, but both were handled with imagination and care, the former exceptionally tender and rich, the latter succulent and smoky, its red-wine-and-rosemary sauce the perfect accompaniment.
The most unusual dish was a cylinder of poached potato filled with foie gras and blueberry. The foie gras, said our server, was produced at Guadalajara.
Dessert consisted of two kinds of cake (white chocolate for one, red velvet for the other) accompanied by two kinds of ice cream (rose petal for one, tequila for the other), both paired with pears that had been marinated in orange and thyme, then topped with feta.
Restaurante Casianos isn't inexpensive - 900 pesos per person for the five-course selection (about $75 at the current exchange rate) - but then Valentine's Day comes around just once a year. We stuck to wines by the glass, including a minerally and lemony Chilean chardonnay and a quiet Chilean pinot noir, after finding the restaurant's wine list to be the weak link in the operation. In excitement, the wine selection isn't up to the same level as the food, with most of the choices pedestrian and overpriced. The Bogle chardonnay is a fine take on the varietal, but not at the 700 pesos (nearly $60) that the restaurant expects to get for it. Nevertheless, Restaurante Casianos at five years old is continuing to meet its exacting standards.
At any rate, diners are greeted with a parmesan breadstick that would please Biba Caggiano, a tray with a selection of fresh lemon, lime or mint to go in your glasses of water, and a question about whether you have any dietary restrictions. No menu is handed over, just an opportunity to specify whether you want the three-course meal or the five course.
Once that's resolved, a basket with four kinds of warm breads arrive, followed soon after by plate after plate of what Reyes calls "spontaneous cuisine." His intent is to surprise guests and leave them delighted by both their adventurous spirit and his precise cookery, perhaps best classified as New-Wave Mexican. Traditional staples of the Baja diet make their appearance, but in totally original presentations. Sweet scallops were sweetened even more with a concentrated puree of sun-dried tomatoes. The brightness and juiciness of finely diced watermelon contrasted with the crackle of its accompanying fried goat-cheese ravioli. A creamy corn sauce and a puree of beets lit up the lobster medallion with their earthy sweetness. A filet of sea bass covered with lentil scales floated on a sea of pureed green beans.
Filet mignon and New York steak aren't my favorite cuts of beef, but both were handled with imagination and care, the former exceptionally tender and rich, the latter succulent and smoky, its red-wine-and-rosemary sauce the perfect accompaniment.
The most unusual dish was a cylinder of poached potato filled with foie gras and blueberry. The foie gras, said our server, was produced at Guadalajara.
Dessert consisted of two kinds of cake (white chocolate for one, red velvet for the other) accompanied by two kinds of ice cream (rose petal for one, tequila for the other), both paired with pears that had been marinated in orange and thyme, then topped with feta.
Restaurante Casianos isn't inexpensive - 900 pesos per person for the five-course selection (about $75 at the current exchange rate) - but then Valentine's Day comes around just once a year. We stuck to wines by the glass, including a minerally and lemony Chilean chardonnay and a quiet Chilean pinot noir, after finding the restaurant's wine list to be the weak link in the operation. In excitement, the wine selection isn't up to the same level as the food, with most of the choices pedestrian and overpriced. The Bogle chardonnay is a fine take on the varietal, but not at the 700 pesos (nearly $60) that the restaurant expects to get for it. Nevertheless, Restaurante Casianos at five years old is continuing to meet its exacting standards.
Monday, February 14, 2011
OMG (Oh My, Gallo)
In that sense, Ritmos, Colores y Sabores - Rhythms, Colors and Flavors - was a step up from the entertainment at food festivals in the U.S., usually limited to some jazz combo nobody can hear because it's stuck in an obscure corner. Here, the entertainment went on and on, and at times was so lively it helped alleviate pressure on the food stands by distracting diners. The show included the large and uniformed glee club of a local elementary school, numerous high-energy vocalists, mariachi, folk dancers, fire dancers and belly dancers.
Sponsored by the Public Relations Association of Los Cabos to benefit a program assisting local women with cancer, the festival was well worth the price of 200 pesos per adult ($20 in U.S. currency). I think if they were to raise the price to $30 per person next year they'd still see the same size crowd, but hopefully they'd also arrange for more food. Aside from small sample shots of tequila and cups of coffee, beverages were an additional charge - 20 pesos per can of beer, 50 pesos per plastic glass of wine. And the only wines being poured, much to our dismay and no doubt much to the mortification of the Mexican wine trade, were by Barefoot Cellars, a California brand owned by E&J Gallo Winery. I've had pleasant Barefoot wines over the years, but the releases being poured Saturday night apparently don't travel well. Neither the cabernet sauvignon nor the pinot noir showed any varietal character, and overall weren't up to the quality of the food being served. That Modelo Light, however, isn't a bad can of beer.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Why They Call It A War
Today's online surfing came up with a couple of gems concerning Mexico's ongoing drug wars. One is a pithy essay that suggests that competing drug cartels be looked upon more as "armies of mercenaries" than criminal families, even though money and not political gain is their objective.
The second is Drug Violence in Mexico: Data and Analysis Through 2010, a lengthy and disturbing survey of murders, kidnappings and similar mayhem in Mexican states over the past several years. The report was written by Viridiana Ríos, a doctoral candidate at Harvard University and a research associate of the Trans-Border Institute at the University of San Diego, and David Shirk, the institute's director. Released today, it looks to be the most timely and reliable canvas of drug-related violence in Mexico yet accumulated. Some highlights from its 28 pages:
- In the first four years of the administration of President Felipe Calderon, 34,550 killings have been linked officially to organized crime in Mexico. During the entire six-year term of Calderon's immediate predecessor, Vicente Fox, just 8,901 killings were attritubed to drug-related crime. Calderon has two years remaining in his term.
- Of the total, 15,273 killings occurred during 2010, a nearly 60-percent increase over the previous year.
- Of the total number of killings last year, 84 percent were in just four of Mexico's 32 states - Chihuahua, Sinaloa, Guerrero and Baja California. (It's important to note here that Baja California, also sometimes called Baja California Norte, is the state to the north of Baja California Sur. Baja California Norte includes Tijuana, where 472 drug-related killings took place last year. In all, 540 drug-related murders occurred in Baja California Norte last year. By comparison, 4,427 were in the state of Chihuahua, which includes the deadly city of Ciudad Juarez. The report notes that Baja California Sur, which includes the popular vacation destinations of La Paz, Todos Santos, Cabo San Lucas and San Jose del Cabo, is one of five Mexican states virtually untouched by drug-related violence; last year, 10 killings in the entire state were attributed to organized crime, but that compares with just 1 drug-related murder in the state the year before.
- This isn't the best of times to be a public official or a journalist in Mexico. Of last year's deaths, 14 were Mexican mayors (an unprecedented high), and 11 were journalists. (A total 27 Mexican mayors have been killed over the past six years.)
- Killings related to organized crime accounted for about 45 percent of all murders in the country last year.
- Nearly one-quarter of the killings were attributed to conflict between the dominant Sinaloa cartel and the Juarez cartel. Another 17 percent were attributed to conflict between the Sinaloa and Beltran Leyva factions, while 9 percent stemmed from feuds between the Sinaloa and Gulf and Zeta organizations.
- If Mexico in on your list of possible vacation destinations, the safest states look to be Baja California Sur, Campeche, Queretaro, Tlaxcala and Yucatan. Each has averaged no more than 10 drug-related homicides per year since 2007.
The report is longer on statistics than it is on analysis, and shies from predicting whether the conflict will intensify or whether some sort of equilibrium will be reached among the various warring drug factions. For sure, over the past year the drug cartels adopted more aggressive tactics, including explosives and traffic blockades, and became more brazen in boasting of their accomplishments through handwritten banners, viral internet videos and the popular form of ballads called narcocorridos. "In this sense, the tone of violence has become increasingly ominous over recent years," notes the study.
The report, however, is cautiously optimistic about what lies immediately ahead for Mexico in its struggle with drug cartels. It notes that drug-related violence trended down in the second half of 2010. The Merida Initiative, a three-year, $1.4-billion, U.S.-backed assistance package to help Mexico with social services and programs, could help undercut the appeal of drug trafficking as a way of life. Intensified border interdiction of drugs, a drop in demand for drugs in the U.S., smaller potential profits for the cartels, the high-profile arrest or killing of several drug lords, and steps to improve the country's criminal-justice system all could help alleviate the violence, the report suggests.
"It is important to keep Mexico’s recent violence in perspective. In a country of more than 100 million people, the odds of being killed in a drug-related homicide in 2010 were one in 6,667, about the same as the odds of being killed in an automobile accident in the United States (about one in 6,500). The odds of being killed in Mexico’s drug violence decrease dramatically if a person is not a drug trafficker, mayor, or police officer in a disputed trafficking region," notes the report. (It does not mention the odds of being killed in an automobile accident in Mexico.)
On the other hand: "With no sign of surrender on the part of the government or the (drug-trade organizations), Mexico’s drug war is far from over. Nor is it even clear that the worst has passed. Indeed, the start of 2011 seems to herald a continuation or increase in violence in the coming year. In the first three weeks of January 2011, Reforma reported 245 drug-related killings per week, 41 more than during the same period a year ago and 20 more than the average for 2010. At the same time, with the presidential elections looming, the Calderón administration needs to shift to a strategy that will help build political support for his party in 2012. This may lead the federal government to focus on regions that are easily controllable and efforts that will yield high-impact results. However, this may leave the most difficult cases, such as Ciudad Juárez, in turmoil, with violence keeping the same high but steady trend that occurred in 2010," concludes the report, sounding not at all hopeful of peace any time soon.
The second is Drug Violence in Mexico: Data and Analysis Through 2010, a lengthy and disturbing survey of murders, kidnappings and similar mayhem in Mexican states over the past several years. The report was written by Viridiana Ríos, a doctoral candidate at Harvard University and a research associate of the Trans-Border Institute at the University of San Diego, and David Shirk, the institute's director. Released today, it looks to be the most timely and reliable canvas of drug-related violence in Mexico yet accumulated. Some highlights from its 28 pages:
- In the first four years of the administration of President Felipe Calderon, 34,550 killings have been linked officially to organized crime in Mexico. During the entire six-year term of Calderon's immediate predecessor, Vicente Fox, just 8,901 killings were attritubed to drug-related crime. Calderon has two years remaining in his term.
- Of the total, 15,273 killings occurred during 2010, a nearly 60-percent increase over the previous year.
- Of the total number of killings last year, 84 percent were in just four of Mexico's 32 states - Chihuahua, Sinaloa, Guerrero and Baja California. (It's important to note here that Baja California, also sometimes called Baja California Norte, is the state to the north of Baja California Sur. Baja California Norte includes Tijuana, where 472 drug-related killings took place last year. In all, 540 drug-related murders occurred in Baja California Norte last year. By comparison, 4,427 were in the state of Chihuahua, which includes the deadly city of Ciudad Juarez. The report notes that Baja California Sur, which includes the popular vacation destinations of La Paz, Todos Santos, Cabo San Lucas and San Jose del Cabo, is one of five Mexican states virtually untouched by drug-related violence; last year, 10 killings in the entire state were attributed to organized crime, but that compares with just 1 drug-related murder in the state the year before.
- This isn't the best of times to be a public official or a journalist in Mexico. Of last year's deaths, 14 were Mexican mayors (an unprecedented high), and 11 were journalists. (A total 27 Mexican mayors have been killed over the past six years.)
- Killings related to organized crime accounted for about 45 percent of all murders in the country last year.
- Nearly one-quarter of the killings were attributed to conflict between the dominant Sinaloa cartel and the Juarez cartel. Another 17 percent were attributed to conflict between the Sinaloa and Beltran Leyva factions, while 9 percent stemmed from feuds between the Sinaloa and Gulf and Zeta organizations.
- If Mexico in on your list of possible vacation destinations, the safest states look to be Baja California Sur, Campeche, Queretaro, Tlaxcala and Yucatan. Each has averaged no more than 10 drug-related homicides per year since 2007.
The report is longer on statistics than it is on analysis, and shies from predicting whether the conflict will intensify or whether some sort of equilibrium will be reached among the various warring drug factions. For sure, over the past year the drug cartels adopted more aggressive tactics, including explosives and traffic blockades, and became more brazen in boasting of their accomplishments through handwritten banners, viral internet videos and the popular form of ballads called narcocorridos. "In this sense, the tone of violence has become increasingly ominous over recent years," notes the study.
The report, however, is cautiously optimistic about what lies immediately ahead for Mexico in its struggle with drug cartels. It notes that drug-related violence trended down in the second half of 2010. The Merida Initiative, a three-year, $1.4-billion, U.S.-backed assistance package to help Mexico with social services and programs, could help undercut the appeal of drug trafficking as a way of life. Intensified border interdiction of drugs, a drop in demand for drugs in the U.S., smaller potential profits for the cartels, the high-profile arrest or killing of several drug lords, and steps to improve the country's criminal-justice system all could help alleviate the violence, the report suggests.
"It is important to keep Mexico’s recent violence in perspective. In a country of more than 100 million people, the odds of being killed in a drug-related homicide in 2010 were one in 6,667, about the same as the odds of being killed in an automobile accident in the United States (about one in 6,500). The odds of being killed in Mexico’s drug violence decrease dramatically if a person is not a drug trafficker, mayor, or police officer in a disputed trafficking region," notes the report. (It does not mention the odds of being killed in an automobile accident in Mexico.)
On the other hand: "With no sign of surrender on the part of the government or the (drug-trade organizations), Mexico’s drug war is far from over. Nor is it even clear that the worst has passed. Indeed, the start of 2011 seems to herald a continuation or increase in violence in the coming year. In the first three weeks of January 2011, Reforma reported 245 drug-related killings per week, 41 more than during the same period a year ago and 20 more than the average for 2010. At the same time, with the presidential elections looming, the Calderón administration needs to shift to a strategy that will help build political support for his party in 2012. This may lead the federal government to focus on regions that are easily controllable and efforts that will yield high-impact results. However, this may leave the most difficult cases, such as Ciudad Juárez, in turmoil, with violence keeping the same high but steady trend that occurred in 2010," concludes the report, sounding not at all hopeful of peace any time soon.
Home On The Range, However Risky
I'm hoping motorists behave as if they are a bit more aware of the horses, though rarely do any obviously slow. I'm also hoping the horses don't decide the grass is greener on the other side of the road, though that isn't likely, given that the opposite side mostly is a dry arroyo and a stand of brush that looks barely alive. Nonetheless, I've strolled by the calling cards of horses in the neighborhood reaching up into the hills from the west shoulder of the highway. The golf course would be tempting, but a fence keeps out the horses, who appeared at their happiest yesterday, when sprinklers were on and they could amble over for a welcome drink at their leisure.
I have yet to see if anyone drops off the horses in the morning and picks them up at night. They look well cared for, and I'm hoping they continue to look that way as they enjoy their precarious pasturage.
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