BIG SCREEN: Syriana

Impatient people hate William Faulkner. They find his writing inaccessible, because impatient people want to understand exactly what’s happening while it’s happening and Faulkner is uncompromising in this way. The deceased postmaster’s prose has led many a student to put down The Sound and the Fury prematurely and, saddly, these readers never realize the genius of the deceased postmaster’s work is in the suspension of comprehension - this is to say, the first 30 pages may not make sense until you’ve read the final 30 pages.

Reactions to Stephen Gaghan’s new movie Syriana will be much like that of those who have only taken cursory stabs at Faulkner. With Syriana, Gaghan - screenwriter of Traffic - wants to tell you a story of intelligence, politics and the slick dealings of those who directly or indirectly profit off oil. Ultimately, Gaghan wants to tell you about all these things, but he doesn’t want you to understand them until it’s all over.

Syriana rose from the book See No Evil by veteran CIA agent Robert Baer who, in an interview on National Public Radio, revealed that Gaghan intentionally muddied the cinematic waters, obfuscated connections, and withheld information that would have otherwise made the film comprehensible. If you can accept that Syriana is an informative film without being a pandering tutorial, you will, ironically, better interpret it. But if you, Mr. Knowitall, take Gaghan’s disregard for linear storytelling and intelligibility as a personal insult, buy a ticket for Yours, Mine and Ours instead.

Like Traffic, Syriana’s narrative is driven by excess of character, an approach that reveals the interlocking tiers of human drama. The film begins when an arms deal goes awry in Tehran for CIA operative and utility killer Bob Barnes (George Clooney, Good Night, and Good Luck). When the missiles Barnes delivers falls into the wrong hands, the sand storm of confusion, switchbacks, and double-talk begins.

Cut to Washington, D.C. where lawyer Bennett Holiday (Jeffrey Wright, The Manchurian Candidate) is investigating the chicaneries between merging oil companies Connex and Killen. Swim across the Atlantic to Geneva where Bryan Woodman (Matt Damon, The Brothers Grimm) has the perfect life as an energy analyst and consultant for a CNN-esque newscast until his son is electrocuted at the home of a Middle Eastern emir. Zip over to the United States where Killen CEO Jimmy Pope (Chris Cooper, Jarhead) hunts zebras at his Texas ranch, Danny Dalton (Tim Blake Nelson, O Brother, Were Art Thou?) shoots his mouth off as the spokesman for the Committee to Liberate Iran, and independent intelligence gatherer Stan Goff (William Hurt, A History of Violence) mutters surreptitiously in the back of movie theaters. And leaping into thick of it all, cabals in the Persian Gulf kibitz, read from al’Quran, and recruit naifs for glorious martyrdom. The 15 additional characters - superfluously comprised by angry Pakistanis, patricidal opportunists, emir apparents, alcoholic fathers, men who like to remove fingernails, angry sons, and wives armed with ultimatums - are just the tip of the iceberg.

Gaghan’s globe-trotting and borderline-infinite character spectrum gives the impression there is no elementary provenance for any ill of the oil industry, and rightly so. Syriana makes it perfectly clear that there is never any one person or country acting alone; everything is interwoven into the fabric of corruption and greed. If Syriana is firm about anything, it is that the world is a very complicated, very tenuous Rube Goldberg machine disguised as a planet with neat combustibles inside.

Though probably the most socially aware non-documentary film of 2005, Syriana will have problems drawing in certain moviegoers, not because not because it is lacking or arrogant, but rather because the ellusive nature of the film gives the impression Gaghan has a valid point, he just didn’t get around to expressing it. Maybe Syriana is an indictment of shameful international trades that all but give license to insurrection. Maybe the film is a revelation of the ever-increasing corruption on capital hill as America has to compete with Japan and world-power-to-be China in securing natural resources. Or maybe Syriana is simply Traffic with a lot of sand.

If reading the New York Times gives you a headache, don’t see this film. If you’re expecting Damon and Clooney to look suave and wear Gucci suits, don’t see this film. If you clap your hands when spoon-fed tales of warmth and human kindness, don’t see this film. However, if you don’t mind being more than a passive spectator, flip your brain on and buy the damn ticket.

In the end, both The Sound and the Fury and Syriana make sense, they just take a little more work than you’re used to.

Eric Howerton does not own a car. When he’s not walking in the cold, he can be reached erichowerton@mac.com

A slightly altered version of the above appeared in Crosswinds Weekly, Dec. 16-23

CLASS ACT: The curtain rises on sixth Santa Fe Film Festival

In his pursuit to dissect and quantify euphoria, Lee Boot attempts to build an angel out of meat. He freely quotes René Descartes and the American Constitution, glues sequins to his shoes, and makes a cake with a rubber rat inside. Boot does all this, and more, in the name of happiness. A former school teacher and college professor, Boot’s film Euphoria — a scatological social survey/absurd performance piece — is just one of the 220 titles airing at this year’s Santa Fe Film Festival. A bevy of live–action and animated shorts, documentaries and feature–length films have been compiled into 90 offerings, which will be shown at 10 different venues throughout the City Different from Dec. 7 to 11.

The festival, now in its auspicious sixth year, features films from New Mexico residents as well as the labored pursuits from auteurs across the globe. Much like the city itself, the Santa Fe Film Festival has made a name for itself as an expansive, multicultural forum.

Jon Bowman, executive director of the event and movie critic for the Santa Fe New Mexican, said, although the festival has gained national accolades and filled niches, its goal has always been the same: to present an eclectic array of films, many of which pass under the radar of mainstream cinema. “It’s a real smorgasbord, and we like it that way,” Bowman said. “If it were too thematically tied it would get boring,” he added.

In order to keep things diverse, the members of the selection committee have chosen a hearty variety of independent flicks, foreign films, ethnographic pics, Art Matters films, comedies and dramas. If ever one were to faint from film exhaustion, SFFF is the event at which to do it.

Bowman anticipates the festival, which in its incipient year drew 9,000 attendees, will attract at least 20,000 moviegoers over the five day period.

The bright star

In the past, films with more sparkling stars than Lee Boot’s sneakers have found audience approval at the festival. Blockbusters such as 21 Grams, Pollock and In the Bedroom were screened weeks before they opened nationally. Of the films scheduled to air this winter, Brokeback Mountain, starring Jake Gylenhall (Jarhead) and Heath Ledger (Brothers Grimm) is easily the most commercial film of the bunch. However, the unorthodox Brokeback Mountain, based on Annie Proulx’s story of the same name, is about two Wyoming sheep ranchers who form a taboo gay relationship. The festival’s screening has already sold out.

The production prestige behind Brokeback Mountain guarantees a phenomenal film. Cloistering around the camera were director Ang Lee (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto (21 Grams) and screenwriters Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana — the latter two will receive lifetime achievement awards at this year’s festival, along with documentarian of Southern music Robert Mugge, Russian filmmaker Pavel Chukhray, and wild card L.M. Kit Karson.

The New Mexico connection
According to Bowman, between 40 and 50 percent of the titles being screened have a direct connection to New Mexico.

Zen and the Asteroid, the brainchild of northern New Mexico residents Dan Otero and Javier Arellano, was filmed over a period of five years using local talent. The film’s website defines the desert dynamo as a “Taoist, sci–fi comedy for all ages.” (If you miss Zen at SFFF, it will run at the Guild Cinema Dec. 18.)

Another Land of Enchantment–based film is Cowboy del Amor. Michele Ohayon’s documentary chronicles the antics of Ivan Thompson, a former real–life cowboy who acts as a liaison between clueless American men and the Mexican women desperate enough to entertain the notion of marrying a stranger. Thompson and his clientele of past– their–prime white males are fed up with the fastidiousness of American women and go south of the border to look for señoritas who are not as demanding as their competitors to the north.

Throughout the film, Thompson shoots his mouth off with authentic New Mexico aplomb while attempting to marry off his slew of double–clutching truck drivers and smarmy used car salesmen to attractive Mexican women. Though his profession as Match.com–meets–machismo is beyond reproach, Thompson’s persistence, cattle hand conceit, and barnyard banter make the film a riot.

Other movies worth catching are Self–Medicated and American Dreamer. Self–Medicated, written, directed and starring Monty Lapica, is an intense and beautifully acted tale from Nevada involving drug addiction and institutionalized abduction. L.M. Kit Karson and Lawrence Schillers’s 1971 documentary American Dreamer, which exposes an often nude and drug–addled Dennis Hopper as Taos’ answer to Hunter S. Thompson, should prove bewildering. And for those with short attention spans, New Mexico Short Sampler I & II, the animated Madrid en Corto and Parade of Animation, and the paranormal medley Outer Limits aim to please.

Appearing in person at the festival will be consummate character actor Ernie Hudson (HBO’s Oz) to present his film Halfway Decent, in which he plays a struggling police officer. Michael and Mark Polish (Twin Falls, Idaho) will also attend to promote their new book The Declaration of Independent Filmmaking: An Insider’s Guide to Making Movies Outside of Hollywood. Special events, including dinners, live music and panel discussions, will take place on a daily basis. CW

The Santa Fe Film Festival runs Wednesday, Dec. 7 through Sunday, Dec. 11. Ticket prices are $9 per screening, 10 movies for $75, or $300 for an unlimited festival pass. For other ticket packages, film schedules and synopses, visit www.santafefilmfestival.com

The above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com), Dec. 7-14 issue.

BIG SCREEN: The Squid and the Whale

Compelling but incomplete

Squid are cephalopods, noticeably different from octopi by two lance-like antennae in addition to their eight tentacles. Whales are marine mammals of the order cetacea, largely subdivided into two categories: those with teeth and those with baleen.

By their very nature, squid and whales are incompatible mates. Outside of cartoons, the two animals do not form symbiotic relationships, fall in love, or create offspring that inherit the maladaptive traits of both parents. Nature has, through a bulwark of finicky genes, kept these two animals from creating mutant progeny.

Strangely enough, neither cuttlefish nor sperm whales make appear in writer/director Noah (screenwriter The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou) Baumbach’s The Squid and the Whale. Despite the allusions of its title, The Squid and the Whale is not set on the high seas but rather in the postimpressionistic tedium of early ‘80s Manhattan. The film involves a pair of writers and the children they’ve selfishly damaged.

Unlike marine animals, there is no Darwinian red-light when it comes to interhuman coition, and Baumbach would have us believe that “beached whale” Bernard (Jeff Daniels) and his wife, Joan (Laura Linney), are as ill-suited for marriage and child rearing as mammal and mollusk. While Bernard’s career has washed ashore and died, Joan’s late-blooming success is soaring.

Quick to gain recognition for her work, Joan’s unanchored libido and inability to keep her suction cups off other men, partnered with Bernard’s blowhole gazing, jealousy, and the conviction that his novels are still as valuable as ambergris, make for a tumultuous divorce.

Caught in the eye of the storm are Walt (Jesse Eisenberg) and Frank (Owen Kline), two minnows too small to be worthy prey for their feuding parents. Walt and Frank’s sexual confusion, masturbatory deviance, and strikes at independence are realistic and engaging, though overshadowed by Bernard and Joan’s brutality. The siblings are awash with confusion and pain, though Bernard and Joan are both too self-absorbed to notice the collateral damage inflicted upon their sons.

Like bastard hybrids of the squid and whale, Walt and Frank embody the worst of their parents. Taking after his father, Frank is crass, negative, and verbally caustic while Walt, longing to be a womanizer, is plagued by his mother’s philandering drive.

Delivered with the same deadpan candor and tongue-in-gill humor as The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and The Royal Tenenbaums, Baumbach and producer Wes Anderson attempt to stir the audience by understating the characters’ feelings (think Gene Hackman as Royal Tenenbaum). In a trick not dissimilar to the one played on the king in The Emperor’s New Clothes, Baumbach’s antithetical approach conveys emotion by avoiding it. Were it not for the talents of Linney and Daniels, Baumbach’s gambit of “resonance through the absent” would come across as inexperience rather than subtlety.

Daniels portrays Bernard with the aplomb of Rabbit from John Updike’s lagromorphic series. As Bernard the muted narcissist, he delivers a brilliant performance and does so with more authority than Bill Murray who, in The Life Aquatic, played a similar character. Lamentably, Daniels alone cannot reel in the movie and Linney, though perfectly embodying her character, is unable to break through Joan’s truncated representation.

What propels movies such as The Life Aquatic and The Royal Tenenbaums, where monotony and ho-hummery take center stage, is the startling contrast of the confrontational characters to the subdued ones. By casting characters like Klaus (Willem Dafoe) and Chas (Ben Stiller) in The Life Aquatic and The Royal Tenenbaums, respectively, the dullards are augmented by a type of absurdist buffoonery. Unfortunately, the disruptive characters in The Squid and the Whale are so ordinary they do little to offset the rest of the cast’s stifled exuberance, although, to their credit, William Baldwin as Joan’s bedfellow and Anna Paquin as Bernard’s fellatious student make valiant efforts to inspirit the film.

Misogynistic gaucherie, defiling library books, and plagiarizing Pink Floyd’s “Hey You” all make The Squid and the Whale a noteworthy piece of independent cinematography. And yet the episodic nature and lack of closure make for an incomplete voyage. While momentarily great, The Squid and the Whale is captivating for 81 minutes, at which point an abrupt ending leaves you with half a bag of popcorn and the feeling a mischievous theater employee has absconded with the last 15 minutes of the film.


Eric Howerton respects Poseidon’s wrath and can be found above water at erichowerton@mac.com.

A slightly altered form of the above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com), Dec.7-14 issue.

FOOD FINDS: Burger Heaven: From Albuquerque to Española

Española, NM may not have the most sterling reputation in the American Southwest, but the delinquent town can offer something no other place in New Mexico can: the best tacos north of the border. El Parasol (602 Camino Santa Cruz NE, Espan&tilede;ola) a humble a trailer converted into a first-class taqueria, has won numerous awards for their beef and chicken tacos, and their acclaim is renowned. But a little known fact, even to Espanola vatos, is that El Parasol also has the best green chile cheeseburgers this side of heaven.

Other burgers cower and shake when compared to the beefy, double-fisting demands of El Parasol’s hamburguesas. For something as simple as a burger to taste so good must be a matter of metaphysics. It would not surprise me to discover El Parasol uses only sacred beef to create a burger that smacks so distinctly of the sublime.

That being said, the new Owl Cafe (4320 The 25 Way at I-25 and Jefferson) has come as close to replicating El Parasol’s incarnation of salted meat and piquant green chile on a sweet bun as humanly possible.

Owl Cafe has been operating in one town or another since 1945. El Parasol opened in 1992, 47 years after the original Owl Cafe opened its beak in San Antonio, NM. However, seniority should not be mistaken for superiority.

For those residents of Isotopia (formerly known as Duke City) who don’t want to drive north an hour plus to sink their canines into something as pedestrian as a burger, Owl Cafe offers a worth substitute. But, as with any substitute for perfection, certain concessions must be made.

Unlike Albuquerque’s first Owl Cafe (800 Eubank NE), Owl Cafe at 25 Way does not feature a full menu of home-cooked meals and fixings. Instead, roving palates are restricted by a selection of seven sandwiches - six of which are burgers - four types of fries, and a salad. Throw in a few malted milkshakes and some finger food for the kiddos and there you have it. Pickings are slimmer than transportation out of a one horse town.

Shortly after ordering and selecting our booth, a basket of “soon to be famous fries” ($1.95) arrived at our table. The fries, made from fresh-cut russets, were unctuous, buttery javelins of unskinned potatoes. Crispy and starchy, we quickly devoured the first basket in a matter of seconds.

Thankfully, a second basket arrived. Then a lone burger, a classic green chili cheeseburger ($4.25), landed safely, accompanied by an order of jack and cheddar fries ($2.85). A few minutes later, a California burger ($5.25) entered the union. The California burger - nearly complete with bacon, avocado, and cheese - demanded a side of green chile.

The piecemeal dining experience, normally reserved for dim sum and tapas restaurants, continued until all of our food was finally within reach. Though the milkshakes ($3.99) arrived only after our burgers were half-eaten and the fries had vanished, they were avalanches of iced cream, easily filling the soda glass twice over. Samplings of cherry, chocolate, and chocolate-banana were enjoyed with nostalgic glee.

Despite the nuisance of our order being delivered in installments, the only legitimate complaint of Owl Cafe’s newest burger hub was the shrunken stature of the sandwiches themselves. Feeling as though I had been tricked into a meal of fries with a side of hamburger, I was understandably disgruntled when my burger vanished after eight bites. Expecting to grow rotund from excessive amounts of meat and green chile, I lamented not ordering two burgers or a double-patty ($1 extra).

Dinner for three was a bit pricey, totaling just over $36 for a burger, a basket of fries (best left unadulterated), and a shake apiece. To cut down on costs, sharing a shake is recommended.

Owl Cafe’s proximity to Century Rio 24 makes it a noble competitor for the after theater crowd. However to compete with Red Robin and Fudruckers, both within walking distance of the cinema, Owl Cafe will either have to expand its menu or expand the size of their burgers. Owl Cafe may have the best burgers south of Espano&tilede;la, but a five-dollar burger should taste like a million bucks and leave you feeling like you’ve eaten a million pounds.

Think you can eat hotter chile than Eric Howerton? Send a scathing email to erichowerton@mac.com.

A slightly altered form of the above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com), Dec.7-14 issue.

FOOD FINDS: Nob Hill's Crazy Fish in a word: Fresh

Residents of landlocked New Mexico have historically been deprived of noteworthy seafood options. In the past, when craving a filet from the briny deep, New Mexicans with a hankering for halibut were left to chose from a) commercial joints guaranteed to hide freezer-burned fish behind a curtain of butter; or, b) mediocre sushi bars where freshness is more suspect than a police lineup.

Crazy Fish (3015 Central Ave NE, 505-232-3474), Albuquerque’s most recent addition to the pantheon of exciting Nob Hill eateries, is a refreshing departure from the middling efforts of run-of-the-mill seafood haunts, and offers fish so fresh it almost voluntarily swims down your gullet.

The decor is simple and refined. Red tables with black trim speak to a sleek modernity while framed blowups of manga comics hang overhead. The contrast of the austere and the lighthearted delivers the message that Crazy Fish wants you to take sushi seriously, but not so seriously that a boisterously appreciation for the cuisine is stifled.

After the requisite bowl of miso, loaded with fresh scallions and seaweed, we whetted our whistles with grilled calamari served over mixed greens ($6.50). The calamari, grilled to perfection, was a pleasing combination of both crispy and spongy. The chef took obvious pains to not produce a calamari that harkened memories of rubber bands or chewing gum. Despite the unfaltering preparation and spicy sauce, the mollusk would have been improved by grilling it over a charcoal or wood fire grill rather than gas.

Our party was tempted to order the spinach gyoza ($5.00) but opted instead, upon the recommendation of the manager, to take a risk: the sesame jellyfish ($4.50). Our wager did not go unrewarded.

The jellyfish, flash-blanched in water, sliced into thin ribbons, served in a stemless martini globe and garnished with cod roe, was a well-received surprise. The appearance was reminiscent of a clear rice noodles, and the dish had a refreshing snap. Even the trepidacious member of our party found the appetizer delightful despite her phobic apprehensions.

As we scrutinized the music selections rotating in the disc changer - Bob Marley, Sarah McLachlan and jazz - our meal arrived. The nigiri (fish filet served over a small oval of rice) and maki (sushi rolled with rice and seaweed) selections were breathtaking.

The prices of the nigiri, served two per order, were more than reasonable considering the size. The tuna ($3.50), yellow tail ($3.50) and sea bass ($3.25) filets were all easily twice as large as the nigiri at any other sushi bar within a 500 mile radius.

The tuna was a deliciously cut, perfectly marbled, and immediately made us forget it had any relation to “chicken of the sea.” The yellow tail was soft, cakey, and fluttered on the palate, and the sea bass, the champion of the evening, was an enormous, buttery flank strip served with a dollop of hot sauce, a paper thin shaving of lime, a shiso leaf, and a tear-jerking dollop of wasabi.

The anago (sea eel; $3.25) nigiri and the unagi (fresh water eel; $5.00) maki roll both received high marks on taste and preparation, though the anago was widely favored by the table. Both eels were sweet and rich, with the unagi offering a slightly more oceanic taste than the anago. The chef’s adeptness with his cutlery was obvious, as the bone-cutting in the eel dishes was so well executed no evidence of skeletal remains remained.

The maki rolls were plump and dimpled abundantly with sesame seeds, though they were rather loosely rolled, causing the novice chop stick user in our party to manhandle the roll rather than risk a cannonball-esque splash from errant sushi diving into her ramekin of soy sauce.

The salmon tempura roll, accented with cod roe and cucumber, was a lightly fried bargain at $6.00. The spicy tuna roll ($5.50) was not nearly as spicy as one would expect, but it was the same regal cut as the nigiri and we were once again thankful that such a quality high-quality steak had been, out of respect for the fish itself, served a la tartare.

Questionable menu items included the uni - sea urchin roe ($5.50)- which was a day or two past its expiration date and the New Mexico roll ($4.25), which we mistakenly ordered hoping soft shell crab, not faux crab, would be partnered with the tempura green chili. When ordering uni, always find out when it arrived, even if it means sending your on a fact-finding mission.

The bill for three people was $58.00 and considering we left full, less than $20 per person for sushi is a steal.

Crazy Fish is open for lunch Tuesday through Friday and dinner Tuesday through Sunday. Along with sushi they also have ample offerings of noodles, salads, and for the squeamish or prepubescent, teriyaki beef and chicken.

Hours:
Lunch
Tuesday - Friday 11:00 am - 2:00 pm
Dinner
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Sunday 5:00 pm - 9:30 pm
Friday and Saturday 5:00 pm -10:00 pm

A slightly altered form of the above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com), Nov. 23-30 issue.

BIG SCREEN: Wal-Mart: The High Price of Low Cost

Like Upton Sinclair's The Jungle

There are those who would say that - along with Coca-Cola, General Motors and Levi-Strauss - Wal-Mart helps define the topography of American commerce. Millions of Americans rely on Wal-Mart as the one-stop shop where anything can be bought, whether it be a box of condoms, a Tickle-Me-Elmo, or a shotgun. To these people, Wal-Mart is the saving grace of retail.

But there are also those who, with furrowed brows and roiling ire, say Wal-Mart is the anathema of core American values. These crusaders against steamrolling big businesses have been known to cast aspersion, referring to Wal-Mart as “a plantation capitalist,” “a monopoly,” and “Godzilla.”

The latter group, the categorically anti-Wal-Martians, are the concerned voice of Robert (Outfoxed) Greenwald’s newest tell-all documentary, Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price.

Since it’s conception in 1962, Wal-Mart has become the largest corporation in the world, and in Wal-Mart Greenwald tackles the retail giant in an attempt to expose the company’s seedy underbelly. In documenting the questionable ethics of founder Sam Walton’s brain child, Greenwald has produced a film with the impact of a trip to a slaughterhouse. Just as seeing the macabre goings-on of the meat yard can turn an omnivore into a strict vegetarian, Greenwald’s Wal-Mart has the power to convert a cent-saving sleuth into an adamant Wal-Mart abstainer.

In the film, current and former Wal-Mart employee testimonials paint a horrific picture of Wal-Mart as a tyrannizing, mercantile megalomaniac. Many of the Greenwald’s subjects gave years of their lives to Wal-Mart on to be mistreated and cast aside as human detritus. At various times throughout the employee confessionals, which run the gamut from revealing overt acts of racism, sexism, mental abuse and swaggering threats, I had to remind myself the subject of the film was not the Bush Administration but the very place I had bought toothpaste two weeks prior.

It would have been easy for Greenwald to make a smear campaign against Wal-Mart by gathering commentary from embittered employees. Instead, he elects to tell the story through reasonable “Wal-Martyrs” - employees who were once devoted to their jobs but later realized that by working for Wal-mart they were feeding a diabolical beast of circular poverty and supporting the government-subsidized bankrupting of small business.

Whether the interviewee is a lube express technician, an international textile factory auditor, a loss prevention specialist, an inventory analyst or a store manager, their stories echo one another, certifying that “guaranteed low prices” are not the byproduct of an entrepreneurial drive, but rather the result of thousands of compounded unethical decisions and shameful misconduct.

Some of the harshest criticisms come from former employees who worked for Wal-Mart for nearly two decades and held positions of leisure. According to these individuals, Wal-Mart’s senior managers are so manipulative and morally bankrupt they make the Illuminati look like children trading baseball cards.

In order to not rely solely on emotive rhetoric, Greenwald appeals to the audience’s mind’s as well as their heart with an overwhelming body of terrifying statistics. For example, the average full-time Wal-Mart employee earns $4,000 below the poverty line for a family of four and spends most of their paycheck at Wal-Mart buying cheap goods and groceries. And in Florida alone, some 12,000 Wal-Mart employees are on some sort of government assistance because Wal-Mart will not pay them a living wage. One employee worked at Wal-Mart for three years, only to receive a raise of $1.07.

Unfortunately for the millions of marginalized Americans simply looking for a place to work a solid 40 hours, Wal-Mart’s indecencies do not stop at the economical level. Wal-Mart has been sued by 1.6 million women who claim sexual discrimination. One interviewee, a former Wal-Mart store manager, tells of how even after her promotion she was forced to clean restrooms on a daily basis. Another says her superior expressly denied her a promotion because of her gender and race.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg. Greenwald and his crew bounce around the globe, releasing the skeletons from Wal-Mart’s closets with such brutal honesty that Lee Scott, Wal-Mart’s CEO and spin-doctor extraordinaire, must feel as though someone is stabbing a voodoo doll made in his likeness.

Whether Wal-Mart is addressing the disappearance of mom-and-pop hardware stores, the numerous murders and rapes of women in unattended Wal-Mart parking lots, or the ills of Asian factory workers who earn less than three dollars a day and are routinely beaten, the gritty realism of America’s favorite retail chain is enough to make anyone question whether they can abide saving a dime at the expense of someone else being treated less than human.

A slightly altered form of the above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com), Nov. 19-23 issue.

FOOD FINDS: Posole: The hominy of the Southwest

Corn, or maize,is arguably one of the most versatile foods endemic to the new world. The king of American grasses and grains, corn was one of the few plants cultivated by native peoples prior to the arrival of the agriculturally adept Europeans, and it was also the primary cereal staple of many Pre-Colombian tribes.

Corn can be eaten fresh off the cob, boiled, milled into flour, pulverized into a sweet coulis, or dried and stored for later use. Whether the kernels are tossed into a popcorn popper, ladled onto the griddle as blue corn pancakes, ground into masa for tamales, or simply thrown on the grill as a naked spear and smothered in butter, corn is a distinctly American food, present in one form or another at every national holiday.

For that reason, posole - the hominy of the American Southwest - is the perfect Thanksgiving side dish. Like sweet potatoes, turkey, cranberry and pumpkins, corn was one of the foods enjoyed by the Pilgrims after their landing at Plymouth Rock...or so the elementary school fable goes.

Posole is the traditional dish of Christmas Eve, served after the reenactment of the Posadas - a type of local theater in which a young man and a woman, representing Joseph and the Virgin Mary, go door to door seeking shelter. However, like most foods of fanfare, posole has expanded its calendar to meet the demands of the hungry.

Hundreds of posole recipes exist and, like spaghetti and apple pie, most families have a traditional recipe that has been passed down through the generations with little or no modification. Some posole recipes start with a mire poix base, others with chicken stock; some use copious amounts of dried ancho or New Mexican chilis, others use none; some include chicharrones - or cubes of crispy fried pig fat - while more conscientiously-geared alternatives favor chicken breast.

Despite varying ingredients, the only issue of any real significance is that there is no such thing as Minute Posole; proper preparation is a day long activity. And come November 24th, when you place a steaming pot of posole next to the turkey and mashed potatoes, your family will be thankful you took the time to meticulously prepare such a festive dish.

Ingredients:
1 lb. dried posole
2-3 lb. bone-in pork shoulder
3 cups (24 ounces) chicken stock or equivalent in bouillon cubes
3 cloves garlic, crudely diced
2 bay leaves
1 1/2 teaspoon Mexican oregano
2-3 tablespoons ground red chili or 3 dried red chili pods (crushed, seeds removed)
3/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 lime, juiced


Rinse dried posole and remove any fragmented, discolored or objectionable kernels. To encourage the blooming of the posole, snip off any excess pieces of cob that may be stuck to the tip of each kernel. Place posole in a 4 quart pot or larger and add 3 quarts of water. Place over high heat. Add 2 teaspoons of salt, bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to medium.

Cut the meat from around the bone of the pork shoulder. Place the pork bone in the posole. Keep the temperature of the posole to a low boil.

Trim the excess fat from pork shoulder and cut the remaining meat into 1 inch cubes. In a large saucepan, bring 2 quarts of water to a boil. Add the cubed pork to the water. Parboil the meat for 5-7 minutes, skimming off any fat that rises to the top of the water. (This will keep your posole having a high fat content.) Strain meat and set aside.

Continue to add water throughout the entire cooking process so the water level in the pot is always 1 to 2 inches above the level of the expanding posole. After the posole has been cooking for 1.5 hours, add the parboiled pork, chicken stock garlic, bay leaves, Mexican oregano, black pepper, and lime juice. Continue to cook at a low boil for four hours or until the posole has fully bloomed and become soft. Remove pork shoulder bones.

Serve in bowls and garnish with fresh cilantro and tortillas.

Serves 6-8

A slightly altered form of the above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com), Nov. 19-23 issue.

FOOD FINDS: Mexican Hot Chocolate

Say “chocolate” and most people call to mind the chocolate river from Willy Wonka or a cavity-inviting, diabetic-be-wary confection known to cause near delirium in carriers of the XX chromosome. However, the sugar-laden chocolate represented by monolithic Hershey bars and fruit-filled bon bons only observes half of the cocoa spectrum. Chocolate has been used as both a sweet and a savory foodstuff for hundreds of years.

Despite the impression given by grocery store candy aisles and vending machines, chocolate in its pure state is mildly bitter, low in simple sugars, and high in antioxidants. In fact, in recent years, candy lovers cum scientists have investigated chocolate’s medicinal properties, finding that there it may help reduce cholesterol and lower blood pressure. (The jury is still out on whether chocolate is nature’s strongest aphrodisiac and a blood purifier, so one would be ill-advised to replace a diet of whole grains and high-fiber with a cornucopia of fudge-pops, devil’s food cake and Godiva!)

The Mesoamerican approach to chocolate, most notably the recipes of the Mayans and the Aztecs, utilized the cocoa bean as more than just an after-dinner treat. Many Mesoamerican approaches to chocolate preserves its salubrious effects by not adulterating it with inordinate amounts of hydrogen-rich fats and sugars.

Mole, an Aztec recipe still widely available in most authentic Mexican restaurants, marries unsweetened or bittersweet chocolate with hot chili peppers and chicken. Some mole recipes call for ground sesame or pumpkin seeds in lieu of chocolate, but the pairing of chocolate and a fiery pepper is a dynamic combination worth respecting.

For those who want a milder introduction to the chile-chocolate combo, the following variation on hot chocolate should suffice:

Ingredients:
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate or 3 1/2 tablets Nestle Abuelita chocolate drink mix
8 cups milk
1/2 cup water
1 - 1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons New Mexican red chili powder (or to taste depending on heat index of chili)
3 packed tablespoons brown sugar if using bittersweet chocolate, 3 teaspoons if using Abuelita tablets

In large saucepan combine all ingredients. Warm mixture over medium heat, whisking constantly until all ingredients have completely dissolved. Do not boil or scald the milk. Pour into mugs. Garnish with a cinnamon stick and a sprinkle of nutmeg.

Makes 8 8 ounce servings.

A slightly altered form of the above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com), Nov. 19-23 issue.

FOOD FINDS: When chili meets chile - and the weather is chilly

Food is one of the few areas where cultural differences and ethnic clashes take a back seat to the desires of the epicureous tongue. And in a world rife with French-Asian bistros, tapas bars that borrow ingredients from Italy to the Middle East, and highbrow pizzerias with pies sporting salmon and cauliflower, culinary fusion is a trend with gastronomical possibilities. Food is the world’s truest melting pot. Even the Spanish, who effectively drove out the Moorish influence in 1492, never balked at using the ingredients the Moors and other Arab sailors had or would introduce into the Iberian peninsula. Saffron, rice, tomatoes and olives, among other fruits and vegetables, are all staples of the Spanish spread via the Arabs.

Texas chili and New Mexican chile, while homonyms, are as different as apples and sweet breads. Texas style chili is a hearty stew of beans, tomatoes, and meat, often partnered with a square of corn bread and a dollop of sour cream. It is the quintessential cattle hand fare, easy to assemble and easy to eat.

On the other hand, New Mexican chile is a sacred fruit of almost iconic proportions. It is either roasted in its verdant state or pulverized into a crimson powder. Whether reduced to sauces of infernal heat or stuffed with cotija cheese, battered and fried, chiles are the backbone of New Mexican cuisine.

Even without chili, Texas would still have barbecue ribs and brisket, mammoths sized steaks, and soul food to define its cuisine. But because chile is so crucial to New Mexican food, it’s natural to be apprehensive when confronted with New Mexican recipe for chili, not chile. But for the sake of food, let’s put aside the New Mexican-Texan rivalry for one meal.

And chili, despite its derivation point, is a robust stew perfect for the ever-decreasing temperatures of New Mexico’s wintery days. It’s much more than a topping for amalgamated ballpark franks or a open-faced burgers. Chili, when done right, can be a one course meal that warms you to the core. The marriage of a chili con chile will not only please the little diablo sitting on your shoulder, encouraging you to sear your tongue with another spicy meal, but will also please your empty stomach and give you enough energy to hit the slopes of Taos all day long or chop another cord of piñon.

New Mexican Red Chili
1 large white onion
4 stalks celery
2 cloves garlic
1 green bell pepper

Dice all vegetables and place in a large pot. Sauté vegetables in olive oil over medium-high heat for 10 to 15 minutes. Add a pinch of salt to draw the water out of the vegetables.

When vegetables are caramelized, add:

Dry:
1-4 tablespoons dried red chile (amount will vary depending on desired heat level)
4-5 dried, crushed ancho chiles, stems and seeds removed (Ancho chiles are dark, smoked poblanos with a sweet, slightly bitter flavor and a mild heat index. They are usually sold whole.)
2 bay leaves
Salt
Pepper

Wet:
1 small can tomato paste
1 16 ounce can diced tomatoes
8 ounces black coffee (or 3 shots espresso)
24 ounces Mexican beer (Corona and Tecate work well, however Negra Modelo is ideal for its deep notes and pairs well with coffee.)
8 ounces water

Bring to a rolling boil. Cover and cook over medium heat for 30-45 minutes. At this point the tomatoes should have broken down to a sauce consistency and the ancho chile pods should have softened significantly.

Reduce heat to a simmer and add:

2 large chorizo sausages, cut into pieces (Roughly 1/2 pound. A raw, softer chorizo is ideal compared to a dense or dried chorizo. Chicken chorizo, available at most organic grocers, works exceptionally well and has a lower fat content.)
1/2 pound cubed red meat (Beef, pork, lamb or buffalo are all valid options.)
1 8 ounce can pinto beans and 1 8 ounce can kidney beans (drained and rinsed in a colander)

Simmer until meat is cooked thoroughly. Be careful not to overcook the meat as it will become tough.

Traditionally, corn bread is the accompanying starch with chili, however to deanglicize the cornbread, prepare normally but add to the batter:

1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 diced jalapeño's (seeds and veins removed)

Serve New Mexican Red Chili in bowls and garnish with cilantro, a lime wedge, sour cream and shredded sharp cheddar. Serves 6.

Eric Howerton has lived in New Mexico since 1993, minus two year spent traveling, writing, cooking and seraching for the ripest cheese available. He can be reached at erichowerton@mac.com

A slightly altered form of the above originally appeared in Crosswinds Weekly (www.crosswindsweekly.com) in the Nov. 9-16 issue.