A great piece in Real Cheap Eats on gastrodiplomacy in New York, with this hunger-blatherer quoted. Have a read: Gastrodiplomacy Takes Root in New York City: Connecting to Culture Through Cuisine
The Rockower Post; National Jewographic; Reports from the Daily Paulmanac; Foreign Paulicy Review; Tales of a Hunger-Blatherer; The Gastrodiplomacy Chef; Chairman of Paulestinian Authority; the last King of Nepaul
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Belgrade Beauty
As I sit in my palatial room bedecked with gold trim in the Rezime Crown, and the sound of the street symphony's scherzos filters through my large open windows with orange lace veils, all I can think of is how much I love Belgrade. This is truly a grand city--one that I have fallen completely in love with.
I would put Belgrade on my top ten list of cities worldwide. Probably around number 6 or 7. That is how highly I think of the place. But it is truly a wonderful city, with warm, wonderful people, terrific food and some real culture.
And the girls are some of the hottest in the world. Like really, I think Belgrade may win for the shear number of ridiculously hot girls around. Tough to nudge Istanbul, Paris or Rio, but it is uncanny.
I with I had more bandwidth to be writing about all that has been going on. It strikes me as sad that when I am doing the most meaningful, wonderful work, I have the least time to write about it. So it goes.
But in short, I am good. I am grand. And I really love Belgrade.
I would put Belgrade on my top ten list of cities worldwide. Probably around number 6 or 7. That is how highly I think of the place. But it is truly a wonderful city, with warm, wonderful people, terrific food and some real culture.
And the girls are some of the hottest in the world. Like really, I think Belgrade may win for the shear number of ridiculously hot girls around. Tough to nudge Istanbul, Paris or Rio, but it is uncanny.
I with I had more bandwidth to be writing about all that has been going on. It strikes me as sad that when I am doing the most meaningful, wonderful work, I have the least time to write about it. So it goes.
But in short, I am good. I am grand. And I really love Belgrade.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Hair of the Monkey
After a long, late night of clubbing on a barge in the rain on the River Sava, I woke up with an opice, what the Czechs refer to as a "monkey." Dunno what the Serbs call it but it was something fierce.
I needed something to stick to the ribs, so I headed to Kavarna ?, a traditional Serbian restaurant for some local fare. I picked up some cheap shades-- a lil sombro to save the day.
Me: what do you have to cure what ails me?
Waiter: We have rakije, and I would recommend some dunjevka (quince brandy) for you.
Hair of the monkey indeed.
Belgrade is one of my favorite cities in the world, and that is not a compliment I take or make lightly.
I had a filet mignon cooked medium rare. A Serbian salad of onions, tomatoes and cucumbers. Some warm homemade bread.
I gave the final hunk of steak wrapped in bread soaked in mignon juices to a Gypsy kid. His eyes widened as he ran off with the steak sandwich.
I chatted with some French girls next to me who were living in Budapest. They had hitchhiked to Belgrade. We chatted about what I did.
You live the life.
I hear that from time to time. I always respond simply that I live my life. That I figure I have one life to live, so I might as well live it. Not that I really believe we only have one life, but that is a different story.
On the way, I sat in the sun next to the old Ottoman fountain. I chatted with the Serbian girl Ana who worked at the hotel. She was on her way to start her shift.
You are so lucky.
Luck is not something you wait for; you have to grab luck by its throat. She grabbed mine, and I laughed. Generally you rub a Buddha's head, not grab his throat.
Enough of this banter, I'm off to go nap in the gardens of an old Ottoman fortress that overlooks the two rivers that hung Belgrade.
I needed something to stick to the ribs, so I headed to Kavarna ?, a traditional Serbian restaurant for some local fare. I picked up some cheap shades-- a lil sombro to save the day.
Me: what do you have to cure what ails me?
Waiter: We have rakije, and I would recommend some dunjevka (quince brandy) for you.
Hair of the monkey indeed.
Belgrade is one of my favorite cities in the world, and that is not a compliment I take or make lightly.
I had a filet mignon cooked medium rare. A Serbian salad of onions, tomatoes and cucumbers. Some warm homemade bread.
I gave the final hunk of steak wrapped in bread soaked in mignon juices to a Gypsy kid. His eyes widened as he ran off with the steak sandwich.
I chatted with some French girls next to me who were living in Budapest. They had hitchhiked to Belgrade. We chatted about what I did.
You live the life.
I hear that from time to time. I always respond simply that I live my life. That I figure I have one life to live, so I might as well live it. Not that I really believe we only have one life, but that is a different story.
On the way, I sat in the sun next to the old Ottoman fountain. I chatted with the Serbian girl Ana who worked at the hotel. She was on her way to start her shift.
You are so lucky.
Luck is not something you wait for; you have to grab luck by its throat. She grabbed mine, and I laughed. Generally you rub a Buddha's head, not grab his throat.
Enough of this banter, I'm off to go nap in the gardens of an old Ottoman fortress that overlooks the two rivers that hung Belgrade.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Buffalo Diplomacy? The Imperial Summer Capital of Belgrade?
"All the food I ate in America was bland and boring...except for the spicy chicken wings. I LOVED the Buffalo wings."
-Snezana
Perhaps we should be doing a lil Buffalo gastrodiplomacy to Serbia? Snezana would be pleased.
The poor Serbian lass also felt much more unsafe in DC than Belgrade. I laughed, and explained that when I told people I was going to the Balkans, they worried about me. She laughed as I explained the American image of Serbia as some grimy paramilitary chetnik with a beard and a kalashnikov.
In reality, I also feel much safer in Serbia than America....
And other random gastrodiplomacy thoughts.
Two words: knafeh gelato.
Belgrade, you rock.
As Anshul smartly suggested: Belgrade should be my new summer capital.
-Snezana
Perhaps we should be doing a lil Buffalo gastrodiplomacy to Serbia? Snezana would be pleased.
The poor Serbian lass also felt much more unsafe in DC than Belgrade. I laughed, and explained that when I told people I was going to the Balkans, they worried about me. She laughed as I explained the American image of Serbia as some grimy paramilitary chetnik with a beard and a kalashnikov.
In reality, I also feel much safer in Serbia than America....
And other random gastrodiplomacy thoughts.
Two words: knafeh gelato.
Belgrade, you rock.
As Anshul smartly suggested: Belgrade should be my new summer capital.
On Harlem
"To live in Harlem is to dwell in the very bowels of the city; it is to pass a labyrinthine existence among streets that explode monotonously skyward with the spires and crosses of churches and clutter underfoot with garbage and decay. Harlem is a ruin — many of its ordinary aspects (its crimes, its casual violence, its crumbling buildings with littered areaways, ill-smelling halls, and vermin-invaded rooms) are indistinguishable from the distorted images that appear in dreams and, like muggers haunting a lonely hall, quiver in the waking mind with hidden and threatening significance."
-Ralph Ellison
-Ralph Ellison
The Clinton Curtis Band in Espirito Santo
The U.S. Consulate General in Rio de Janeiro, which hosted The Clinton Curtis Band in Brazil, made a wonderful visit of their tour in Espirito Santo!
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
On Perfection
"Have no fear of perfection, you'll never reach it."
-Salvador Dali
-Salvador Dali
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Americans try exotic Asian foods
Haha! I have had all these, save for the live octopus. The only one that made me retch was balut. Love Nato and durian!
Greener pastures
I've had enough of the headache of Israel/Palestine and Ukraine. I'm leaving for a far more tranquil part of this earth: the Balkans.
Monday, July 21, 2014
When I'm 64
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?
It's my father's 64th birthday, and I'm wishing him all the birthday best. And yes, I am still feeding him--taking him out for Brazilian food tonight for his bday dinner at The Grill from Ipanema.
My father shares a birthday with someone I hold in just slightly less esteem than my old man: Ernie Hemingway.
Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.
-Ernest Hemingway, "The Old Man and the Sea"
When I'm sixty-four?
It's my father's 64th birthday, and I'm wishing him all the birthday best. And yes, I am still feeding him--taking him out for Brazilian food tonight for his bday dinner at The Grill from Ipanema.
My father shares a birthday with someone I hold in just slightly less esteem than my old man: Ernie Hemingway.
Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.
-Ernest Hemingway, "The Old Man and the Sea"
Aloha Venezuela II
Way behind on this blog, it dates back to May. Better late than never...
Our flight was only 35 minutes but we were delayed an hour and so we
passed time at the airport playing Uno.
Once we took off, the flight was quick. We arrived to Isla
Margarita, and drove to the Hotel Isabela La Catolica- a boutique
hotel with rooms named for the kings and queens of Spain. I asked if
I was getting the Torquemeda room.
Once checked in, we had a lovely 8 course meal of small plate
delights that connected with the island's tastes. I am starting to
think the biggest threat of cultural diplomacy is on my waist line.
The only strange thing was the cafe con leche tasted awful. It
tasted salty. I sent it back and just drank the normal coffee
without milk. Later we found out that because of the situation in
Venezuela, there is a shortage on milk at times, and the restaurant
had instead given us baby formula in our coffee. I was reminded of
Lula- the former president of Brazil, chiding Chavez over the fact he
couldn't get milk for his coffee as a symbol that Venezuela was
having issues.
After breakfast, we toured the city. We visited the lovely old
plaza, one of the oldest plazas in the Americas. We stopped in to
see the El Sistema program, which we would be working with later. We
also visited a beautiful pastel church but it was closed so we sat
out in the courtyard and enjoyed the island breeze. I found a Virgin
Mary tree.
That night we had an intimate performance at the hotel restaurant
called Juana La Loca.
That night we had a concert in the middle of the square in La
Asuncion. Keola and company had a raised stage to perform on in
between two old colonial buildings. We were supposed to have the
collaboration partners who we jammed with earlier in the day play
with us, but politics got in the way. Two of the musicians arrived
and said, “oh, we forgot our instruments.” That basically meant
that it was too politically difficult for them to perform in public
with American musicians brought down by the U.S. Embassy. But a
third musician decided to perform anyway, and borrowed a guitar from
Keola.
And they performed the Green Rose Hula for her, which left her
so touched that she had tears streaming down her face. She spoke of
the music as the language of love just as she cooks with. She was so
moved that she declared that lunch was on the house. We tried to
protest, but she would hear nothing of it.
The concert began with the students of El Sistema who we had jammed
with the day prior at the old university performing, then doing a
collaboration with Keola and Jeff.
All of it struck me as amazing given how much the Embassy was doing
for this program, compared to how little I could get other post's to
contribute to upcoming programs. It left me shaking my head.
We checked in and had a delayed flight. We stopped in the duty-free
shop to kill some time. The CAO Neal pointed out an extra-special
bottle of Diplomatico rum that was about $85. When he walked
away, I schemed with Keola and Jeff, and we purchased the bottle for
Neal as a thank-you for all his efforts on the program. But rather
than save it, he opened it to share with all of us. We sat around
the food court and drinking expensive, exquisite rum out of plastic
cups. We played “Roses and Thorns,” a game I conduct on my
programs to discuss 3 “roses” (good things) and 3 “thorns”
(bad things) that happened during the program. We were all moved
when the Cultural Affairs Specialist said, with tears in her eyes,
that in her 8 years doing cultural programs for the Embassy this
program most directly connect with the heart of the Venezuelan
people.
The next day I got my charges off on their flights, and departed
myself on to Frankfurt and on to Delhi after that.
The Aloha Venezuela program was one of the most profound cultural
diplomacy programs I have ever participated in. The U.S. Embassy
really went out of their way to create real programs to connect
Venezuela and Hawaii, and thought of every possible detail to build a
meaningful connections.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Flying the unfriendly skies
Surprise, surprise: American carriers are the most profitable and least comfortable.
I spend a LOT of time on planes, and I have to agree. I hate the Fly America Act, and being stuck on American carriers. I am always hoping for codeshares on other carriers so I don't get stuck on the American company carriers that always nickel-and-dime you while offering minimal comforts.
I spend a LOT of time on planes, and I have to agree. I hate the Fly America Act, and being stuck on American carriers. I am always hoping for codeshares on other carriers so I don't get stuck on the American company carriers that always nickel-and-dime you while offering minimal comforts.
The Chameleon Club
"Among the demons that taunt a writer before he can open a vein and write in his own blood are the devils that whisper: Are you brave enough to tell the truth?"
-Francine Prose, "Lovers at the Chameleon Club"
-Francine Prose, "Lovers at the Chameleon Club"
Friday, July 18, 2014
Cultural Connections- The Clinton Curtis Band in Northeast Brazil
The US Consulate in Recife did a wonderful documentary on The Clinton Curtis Band's tour in Recife and Garanhuns! This is the band that Levantine Public Diplomacy sent to northern Brazil.
This is what cultural diplomacy looks like; this is what cultural diplomacy sounds like!
This is what cultural diplomacy looks like; this is what cultural diplomacy sounds like!
Saturday, July 12, 2014
To Brazil, with love from Pakistan
Connecting Brazil with Pakistan via Della Mae. The online progressive Pakistani magazine Let Us Build Pakistan reported on Della Mae's performance of "Lab Pe Aati Hai Dua" in Brazil and previous American Music Abroad tour through Pakistan and Central Asia.
I'm on the board of the Pakistan Israel Peace Forum, which has connected Let Us Build Pakistan in an ongoing dialogue and article cross-posting with the online progressive magazine in Israel +972 Magazine.
Tilting at World Cups

In Northern Brazil, The Clinton Curtis Band created incredible, meaningful music connections through rock, blues and roots music that truly moved the audiences they encountered in Vitoria, Recife and Brasilia. And they learned themselves of Brazil's glorious music traditions of congo and frevo, as the let music connect us in true commonality.
Muito obregado to Clinton Curtis, Justin Goldner, Drew McLean, Geoffrey Countryman and Gray Reinhard for all your energy and spirit you put in to make this tour such an utter success.
In Southern Brazil, Della Mae wowed Brazilian audiences with their deft musical abilities as they shared joys of bluegrass, and the Dellas charmed them with their grace and pluck. The Dellas and their new musical friends perhaps even invented the newest form of music to come out of Brazil: Chorograss. In Curitiba, Porto Alegre, Campo Grande, Sorocaba, Taubate and Sao Paulo, Della Mae continued to prove themselves as some of the finest cultural diplomatesses that the State Department has ever seen.
Muito obregado to Courtney Hartman, Kimber Ludiker, Jenni Lyn Gardner, Celia Woodsmith and Shelby Means for all your energy and spirit you put in to make this tour such an utter success.
Programs like this cannot be done without the tremendous work of partners. Muito obregado to the U.S. Embassy in Brazil, and the U.S. Consulates in Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro and Recife. Muito obregado to CAO Danna Van Brandt, who spearheaded the project, and to CASes Cezar Borsa, Joyce Costa and Maria Estella Correa of Post Sao Paulo. Muito obregado to CAO Jessica Simon and CAS Carla Waehneldt of Post Rio; muito obregado to CAO Matt Keener and CAS Stuart Beechler of Post Recife; muito obregado to CAS Karla Carneiro and ACAO Marion Lange.
Muito obregado to all the local partner institutions that hosted the artists, that opened their concert halls and cultural centers to allow us to share American music and culture.
As for this Quixote, the next windmill is Serbia to run the Next Level academy in Belgrade and Novi Sad in late July. Journey on!
Tuesday, July 01, 2014
The Port of Joy
After the phenomenal concert(s) at Teatro do Paiol, the next morning
the Dellas had a workshop masterclass at a music conservatory. I had
been there with Keola and company prior, and really liked the space.
It is an old historic building but with a more modernist inside. The
Dellas spoke about the history of bluegrass, and the history of the
band. They spoke about their home states and their connection to
music, as well as performing and going into the structure of the
music.
After the conservatory class, we headed out to the airport to head to
Porto Alegre. We did it in a roundabout fashion, heading north to
Sao Paulo so we could head south to Porto Alegre. We did so because
the CAS Ceszar was worried that both Curitiba and Porto Alegre have
smaller airports, and since it is winter we might get stuck. So we
used TAM which didn't have a direct flight but went via Sao Paolo and
had many more flights per day if we got stuck.
So we went north to head south, and arrived later in the evening to
Porto Alegre. We checked in, and had dinner and drinks in a
microbrew pub.
The next day, Friday, we had a busy day. We went to the Binational
Center where Keola had previously performed, and we had a masterclass
with music students from the Department of Music at the Federal
University of Rio Grande do Sul. It was a blast. The music students
loved the bluegrass, and had a grand time jamming with the Dellas,
and sharing their own choro music. After the masterclass, the Dellas
rehearsed with their collaboration partners for the evening event.
After lunch, the Dellas were introduced to the U.S. Ambassador to
Brazil. The ambassador had wanted to see the Dellas perform, and so
she made the trip to Porto Alegre for an (early) July 4th
reception that the Dellas were performing in. The Dellas got to meet
the Ambassador and chat for a bit before heading back to the theater
to give a presentation and performance for the Ambassador and 70
English Language Access students. They had a great time performing
and speaking with the English students about music and American life.
Finally at halftime, a few of us went downstairs to watch from below.
It ended up being a lot more fun, as there were more people cheering
and yelling. The game went down to the wire, and ended on penalty
kicks (which I hate). It was one of the most intense sporting
moments I have ever been a part of. Everyone's hearts were thumping
as the penalty kicks were taken, and were chanting the names of the
players. When Brazil finally won, the place ERUPTED. It was
incredible.
After the game, we headed back to the hotel. A few of us went out
for dinner at a traditional Gaucho churraco place that I went the
year prior with Keola. We feasted on the endless slices of meat, the
delicious picanha, entrecote and other wonderful cuts of meat brought
on metal spikes and cut on the table.
And there was a show of gaucho music and dance. There was a gaucho
doing tricks with a bollo, twirling it around and smacking it on the
ground. He called Celia up on stage and started doing bollo tricks
around her head, twirling the rock rope around her face and brushing
her hair around with the lassos. The Consulate staff and I were
holding out collective breath as this was going down. But she
escaped unharmed, and it was quite a show and incredible dinner.
Meanwhile, Kimber and Courtney went out with the musicians and had an
incredible cultural experience in their own right. One of the collab
musician's father was performing with the most famous accordion
player in Brazil. They had a show at a private club, and Courtney
and Kimber got to hang with the musicians and also see a capoirea
set. Then they had some homecooked feijoada that came from local
ingredients, and they ended up in the Bohemian quarter of Porto
Alegre till late in the night.
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