Here’s a news story that highlights, in a very personal way, the dilemma of those who have cancer but no health insurance:
The American Cancer Society’s statistic, highlighted in the story, bears repeating: cancer patients without private insurance are 60% more likely to die within the 5 years after their diagnosis.
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Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
(06.03.08) Recommends:
Goat Stew.
El Parian,
1528 W. Pico Blvd.
This post is years in the making. And as with most interesting Los Angeles food stories, it all starts with Jonathan Gold. Jonathan Gold is a food critic for the LA Weekly. But he's not your parents' food critic. He's like the mad scientist of food writing: on one hand, his stuff reads more like stories from back issues of Punk Planet than Gourmet magazine; on the other hand, his rock 'n roll aesthetic belies the fact that he was awarded a Pultizer Prize in 2007 (the first food critic so honored). He has also turned his writing into perfect little radio documentaries for This American Life (scroll ahead to 45:12 to get to his story).
It was from that radio tale that we first heard Jonathan Gold talk about the goat stew at El Parian. At the time, he was living off Pico Blvd and got the idea to eat at every restaurant on Pico. When we first heard this episode we pictured Pico being perhaps a five or six mile street with a high concentration of ethic restaurants. We thought it was a cute idea. Then we moved to Los Angeles. And drove along Pico Blvd. And let's just say, claiming you are going to eat at every restaurant on Pico Blvd would be roughly equivalent to saying you are going to eat at every restaurant in Kansas (and probably even a bit more audacious). It's the first time we sensed that Jonathan Gold marches to the beat of a different drummer. We knew we had to seek out El Parian.
It's a bit hard to find because it takes up two store fronts and one of the store fronts perpetually looks closed.
But as the little blue sign in the corner indicates it is open. In fact, when we called the restaurant we were informed that it's open from 7:30am-9pm. Which is to say, people really really like the goat stew here. And apparently are willing to come very early to get it.
The menu. Although it's a little blurred out, the menu says "A Bit of Mexico in Los Angeles."
And lest you think that El Parian is joking about playing by it's own rules, you flip the menu around and find this startling proclamation.
Here's a close up.
"We reserve the right to serve beer to anyone 0-4 Maximum." For anybody who has ever eaten at a restaurant full of screaming toddlers and thought, "god, nothing would shut those small children up like serving them four beers!", well, El Parian appears to be just what you've been seeking. However, they took one look at us and, perhaps wisely, served us Diet Coke.
We've been reading lots of food books lately, mostly about how we as a culture eat, what might be wrong with that way, and how might we move forward. And one of the things of which we're convinced is that the future of food is in transparency. El Parian already understands this because as you first walk in you hear the cooks thump-thump-thumping away at goat meat and you see vats of goat right from your table.
And out of those vats comes a delicious bowl of steaming goat stew. We devoured this thing at about 10:45am and did not have to eat the rest of the day. We have yet to find a friend who is willing to travel to El Parian with us, but regardless, we can't wait to get back.
El Parian,
1528 W. Pico Blvd.
This post is years in the making. And as with most interesting Los Angeles food stories, it all starts with Jonathan Gold. Jonathan Gold is a food critic for the LA Weekly. But he's not your parents' food critic. He's like the mad scientist of food writing: on one hand, his stuff reads more like stories from back issues of Punk Planet than Gourmet magazine; on the other hand, his rock 'n roll aesthetic belies the fact that he was awarded a Pultizer Prize in 2007 (the first food critic so honored). He has also turned his writing into perfect little radio documentaries for This American Life (scroll ahead to 45:12 to get to his story).
It was from that radio tale that we first heard Jonathan Gold talk about the goat stew at El Parian. At the time, he was living off Pico Blvd and got the idea to eat at every restaurant on Pico. When we first heard this episode we pictured Pico being perhaps a five or six mile street with a high concentration of ethic restaurants. We thought it was a cute idea. Then we moved to Los Angeles. And drove along Pico Blvd. And let's just say, claiming you are going to eat at every restaurant on Pico Blvd would be roughly equivalent to saying you are going to eat at every restaurant in Kansas (and probably even a bit more audacious). It's the first time we sensed that Jonathan Gold marches to the beat of a different drummer. We knew we had to seek out El Parian.
It's a bit hard to find because it takes up two store fronts and one of the store fronts perpetually looks closed.
But as the little blue sign in the corner indicates it is open. In fact, when we called the restaurant we were informed that it's open from 7:30am-9pm. Which is to say, people really really like the goat stew here. And apparently are willing to come very early to get it.
The menu. Although it's a little blurred out, the menu says "A Bit of Mexico in Los Angeles."
And lest you think that El Parian is joking about playing by it's own rules, you flip the menu around and find this startling proclamation.
Here's a close up.
"We reserve the right to serve beer to anyone 0-4 Maximum." For anybody who has ever eaten at a restaurant full of screaming toddlers and thought, "god, nothing would shut those small children up like serving them four beers!", well, El Parian appears to be just what you've been seeking. However, they took one look at us and, perhaps wisely, served us Diet Coke.
We've been reading lots of food books lately, mostly about how we as a culture eat, what might be wrong with that way, and how might we move forward. And one of the things of which we're convinced is that the future of food is in transparency. El Parian already understands this because as you first walk in you hear the cooks thump-thump-thumping away at goat meat and you see vats of goat right from your table.
And out of those vats comes a delicious bowl of steaming goat stew. We devoured this thing at about 10:45am and did not have to eat the rest of the day. We have yet to find a friend who is willing to travel to El Parian with us, but regardless, we can't wait to get back.
Monday, June 2, 2008
June 2, 2008 - Continuing Care
My mother’s up visiting, from Chapel Hill, North Carolina. The other day she mentioned to Claire and me that she’s considering moving back up to New Jersey. She loves living at Carol Woods, the Continuing Care Retirement Community where she’s been for the past 5 years or so – but, ever since my cousin Judith left her tenured full professorship at the University of North Carolina for a professorship at the University of Southern California, she’s missed having family around.We'd enjoy having her up here. North Carolina's a nice place, but it's pretty far from here.
So, today, at her request, I drove her around to a couple of CCRCs in this area: Seabrook in Tinton Falls and Harrogate in Lakewood. Both are beautiful places. Both describe their residents’ experience as “like living on a cruise ship on land” (a bit of hyperbole, to be sure, but not that far off the mark).
It remains to be seen whether Mom will actually make the move – there’s a lot to consider, like costs, waiting lists, and the like – but the whole experience got me to thinking. As we listened to the marketing spiels, I was reminded again of how so many members of these communities are in their high 80s, 90s, or even above. These CCRC facilities – virtually unknown 30 or 40 years ago – have flourished as American life expectancies have increased. They’re really designed for folks in the new, second stage of retirement, which can go on for years and years.What about me? Will I make it to the point where Claire and I will be considering a place like this someday, many years down the road?
Before I had cancer, I might have thought so. Now, I’m not so sure.
It could still happen. They say more and more people with “incurable but treatable” indolent lymphomas like mine are living until some ailment other than cancer does them in.
At age 51, it seems way too early to be thinking about retirement. Yet, this is the age when such thoughts do begin to drift across the surface of the mind. The good news is, with all the hopeful signs emerging from the world of lymphoma treatment, it’s not an unreasonable thought to entertain.
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