Khan Do

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06.18.08

Forget Zohan, what about Genghis Khan? Now there’s somebody you don’t want to be messing with. Which might explain his cultural staying power, and why a movie about him made seven centuries beyond the man’s lifetime could actually find an audience. From Russian director Sergei Bodrov (fondly if barely known to American audiences for 1996’s Prisoner of the Mountains) and co-written with Arif Aliyev, Mongol is a beauty. As world-conqueror biopics go, this is sort of the anti-Alexander, consistently dignified in the way Oliver Stone’s picture was consistently risible, and justified by its enthusiasm alone in a way the latter certainly wasn’t.

At once sweeping and intimately confidential, with durably magnetic performances by Japan’s Tadanobu Asano as the adored warlord and China’s Honglei Sun as Jamukha, his blood brother and eventual enemy, the subtitled Mongol, a 2007 Best Foreign Film Oscar nominee, has to be by far the best action epic of 12th- and 13th-century Asian nomads screening this month.

And besides, really, how else would we get to know the founder of the Mongol Empire, one Temudjin by birth, whose heavily burdened boyhood and intensely stoic manhood combined to bring about his inevitable Khanhood? It’s no use holding out hope for the definitive written record of his early life, so an honorably dramatized, handsomely photographed motion picture record will have to do.

We all know about the rape and the pillage. But what about the honor and the justice? As a youngster, Temudjin (well played by Odnyam Odsuren) brazenly chose a bride from the wrong clan (or, more accurately, let her choose him), saw his father poisoned and his own clan betrayed from within, suffered long and grueling periods of slavery, watched helplessly as his wife got stolen, earned a break or two from the god Tengri, bringer of thunder and, yes, made himself into a willful, fearless warrior. None of this is at all easy to watch, but thanks to Bodrov’s clarity of purpose, it compels.

The first installment in a proposed Genghis Khan trilogy, Mongol is the movie that’s supposed to leave us thinking, “Oh, so that’s why he was so aggressive.”

“Mongols need laws,” Temudjin says about midway through the movie. “I will make them obey, even if I have to kill half of them.” To many a hawkish pundit’s dismay, they’re just not teaching this stuff in the MBA programs and legislative chambers nowadays.

But back in the day, or at least in the Year of the Earth Tiger (1218), well, guess who got some serious results with that particular strategy of governance? Doing so meant negotiating variously shifty and potentially deadly alliances, maintaining an unflappable determination to rescue his kidnapped wife (Khulan Chuluun) and enduring no shortage of blood-spraying combat on her behalf—and, of course, his own. It also helped that he wasn’t afraid of thunder.

True, simply having presided over the biggest contiguous empire in history doesn’t make him automatically interesting to everybody. To get the most out of Mongol, you’ll probably have to give a damn about the Greatest of All Rulers to begin with. But the richness of the movie’s detail and its overall temperament, demonstrably more at home in the art-house than in the multiplex, tend to seduce.

Shot on location in the snowy steppes of Kazakhstan and Inner Mongolia, Bodrov’s tale can’t help but seem ancient and authentic. The pace is commendably unhurried and the scope swells up in a way that is organic to a character-driven story, instead of simply eager to get to the next CGI-enhanced battle scenes. If it feels longer than its two-hour running time, it’s only in the best possible way. And if some of Bodrov’s sequences occasionally seem to drift and hiccup, the net effect remains an arresting piece of portraiture—not to mention an invitation to partake of his trilogy’s next two installments. The movies may not last another seven centuries, but thanks to their contribution, the Genghis Khan mythology certainly will.

  ‘Mongol’ opens on Friday, June 20, at the Smith Rafael Film Center, 1118 Fourth St., San Rafael. 415.454.1222.


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A Simple Vin

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06.18.08

Grape juice, yeast and a vintner. Around the world, these three honest ingredients converge as they have for millennia to create the potent product that so many of us love. But deep within the modern winemaking industry, mysterious creatures lurk. In the vineyard and winery, synthesized preservatives, additives, coloring agents and a slurry of names from the periodic table compose a list of aids that rewrites the very idea of bottled poetry.

Some in the industry shrug, saying these methods and materials are there to protect quality standards, to make wine look and taste good and, ultimately, to please consumers. Wine, after all, can spoil if not treated correctly, and sulfites, or sulfur dioxide, the most heavily relied upon preservative, has been used by winemakers to a limited extent for many hundreds of years.

However, not until the 19th century did winemakers declare en masse chemical warfare on vineyard pests and winery microbes. The unsettling reality today is that many wines are a highly processed form of food; the federal government permits the use of dozens of synthetic and natural materials in the making of wine. Some linger in the bottle, say industry watchdogs, and, thanks to hard lobbying by the wine industry, the use of no additives other than sulfite must be divulged on the label. What lies beneath that wine-dark surface usually remains entirely open to speculation.

Virtuous Viticulture

For makers of organic wine, it’s an entirely different rulebook. Governed by personal ideals, loyalty to traditions and, most of all, the USDA, these men and women make up a tiny but growing portion of the industry. Less than 10 percent of California’s wine-grape acreage is grown organically, without the use of petroleum-based products, sewage sludge or irradiated materials. Just a quarter of California’s winemakers use any organic grapes at all, even though there is little question that for the health of farmworkers, the environment and the grapes themselves, organic farming is a hugely virtuous art.

More debatable is the practice of making entirely “pure,” certified organic wines, which cannot contain any added sulfites. Less than 10 wineries along the West Coast produce such a product. Sulfites are very effective at preventing spoilage and oxidation, which materializes as a brown wine with a flat metallic taste, and most winemakers just don’t see the point of skimping on this relatively harmless material, which helps ensure a long life in the bottle.

No Shitty Wines

Darryl Mason, winemaker at Vinatura in Humboldt County, produces certified organic wines. He has dedicated himself to replicating pre-industrial winemaking techniques, and though it has taken him 18 years of battling hazy wine, sediment layers, occasional spoilage and instability in the absence of sulfites, Mason says he has finally achieved his objective in his line of bold red wines.

As an amateur scholar of history, music and wine, Mason says his inspiration to make wine like the ancients did came from listening to college professors explain that pre-Christian societies in the Mediterranean region drank only low-quality wine; they could make nothing better due to a lack of additives and knowledge of microbiology. Mason never believed it. He points out that ancient civilizations achieved famed heights in technology, science, math and engineering.

“And you’re telling me that these people were drinking shitty wine?” he exclaims. “I don’t think so.”

Phil LaRocca of LaRocca Vineyards in Butte County also looks to the old days of the Old World to attempt the craft of organic winemaking. He favors literature from France’s Middle Ages. Winemaker Paul Frey of Mendocino’s Frey Vineyards, the largest and oldest organic winery in the country, has also studied old documents on ancient winemaking and has referred heavily to the writings of Mago, Cato and other agricultural scholars of Mediterranean societies.

Like other organic winemakers, Frey says there is nothing new, progressive, innovative or experimental in his and his family’s methods. To the contrary, many of their practices mirror techniques that dominated the industry for thousands of years. One of their latest and ongoing experiments was inspired by Pliny the Elder, who described a process of aging white wine for 20 years in clay amphorae. Five years ago, the Freys began doing the same, filling 10 seven-and-a-half gallon clay jugs with several wines, sealing them with beeswax and a pine-sap resin, and inviting time to do the rest. These wines may eventually be retailed.

What’s Organic?

Organic wines are produced under intense eyeballing from USDA-approved certifying agencies, such as California Certified Organic Farmers (CCOF), Stellar Certification Services, Quality Assurance International, Oregon Tilth and scores of others around the nation. These watchdogs follow the standards set by the USDA’s National Organic Program. The USDA also reviews products imported from overseas to verify if their own organic claims are valid.

Viella Shipley, director of marketing and sales with CCOF, says organic products bearing third-party certification on the label are entirely trustworthy. In the case of wines, “certified organic” or “organic” means the product was made with all organically grown grapes and without added sulfites. “Made with organic grapes” or “Made with organically grown grapes” means that 100 percent of the grapes were organically grown, but that sulfites may have been added. There is one notable hitch: “Made with organic Chardonnay grapes” (or any other specified varietal) leaves open the possibility that other nonorganic grape constituents may compose up to 30 percent of the wine. The USDA seal may or may not be used on the former of the labels, but never on the latter.

In conventional wines, the list of additives permitted by the Tax and Tobacco Bureau is a long-winded, ugly mess. The additive known as “mega-red” (also marketed as “mega-purple”) secretly serves as a very attractive food coloring for many well-known red wines. A touch of calcium carbonate can adjust the pH. Tartaric acid can cover the taste of unwanted residual sugar. Diammonium phosphate, a yeast nutrient, can aid struggling yeast colonies and malolactic bacteria. Potassium metabisulfite sterilizes equipment. Enzymes may be added to break apart polysaccharides that could otherwise create a haze in the bottled wine. Copper sulfate may be stirred into a vat of fermenting wine to combat the rotten-egg odor of hydrogen sulfide, a byproduct of fermenting yeast.

Many conventional winemakers avoid these items—and many say they wouldn’t touch them with a two-foot pole—but there’s really no way for a consumer to know without a list of ingredients on the bottle. In the vineyard, too, various agents play regular roles in the upkeep of the otherwise regal terroir. Although growers may say they follow organic practices, organic advocates recommend against trusting these claims if the wine bottles don’t bear the label to prove it.

“This green thing has just exploded,” says Martha Barra, co-owner of Barra of Mendocino, whose wines are made only with organic grapes. “There are a lot of people who want to get on the bandwagon, but unless there’s that third-party inspection seal on the back, you need to be skeptical.”

Meanwhile, organic vineyards follow historically favored techniques to counter the enemies that prowl among the grapes. Bird boxes on the property welcome raptors, which prey on rodents. Blackberry bushes around the perimeter provide shelter for many predatory insects which prey on those that enjoy grape leaves. Unwanted weeds in the vineyard are dealt with by hand or machine and left to compost naturally among the vines. Some are left to co-exist with the vines.

David Koball, vineyard director at Hopland’s Fetzer Vineyards, says organic winemaking is easy once a farmer determines to do it. “It just requires a different mindset,” he says. “You don’t wait until you have a problem. Instead, you pay attention to the vines and you keep them healthy.”

Naturally Technical

In organic wineries, things get slightly more technical. To combat oxidation, organic winemakers try to keep their vats filled entirely to the brim until bottling. They may also put a layer of nitrogen or carbon dioxide over the wine to blanket it from the air, which floats above these heavy gases. To eliminate the rotten-egg odor of hydrogen sulfide, organic winemakers simply aerate their fermenting wines.

Organically grown grapes are said to carry more natural nutrients, and this eliminates the need to add synthetic nutrients to aid the yeast through fermentation of the juice. To remove cloudy proteins from the wine, additions of organic egg whites can bond with the offending proteins and sink them to the bottom. Some wineries, including Frey, LaRocca and Medlock Ames in Healdsburg, even make vegan wines, substituting bentonite clay or diatomaceous earth for the egg whites.

But the most commonly discussed distinguishing point between organic wines and conventional wines is the presence of sulfites, a highly renowned and proven preservative. Organic winemakers in the United States cannot add them at any point in the winemaking process. Conventional wines may use up to 350 parts per million, a limit imposed by the FDA, although most wines carry no more than 100 ppm or so.

Sulfite levels in wine are verified by the Tax and Tobacco Bureau through mandatory lab analysis of every vintage of every commercial wine. It is generally known that sulfites occur naturally as a very scant byproduct of fermentation, and wines without added sulfites occasionally carry up to 10 naturally occurring parts per million. Other organic wines measure out at zero, and many organic winemakers feel that the issue of naturally occurring sulfites is unjustly inflated to counter any significance of “sulfite-free” wines.

Tony Norskog, winemaker at the Nevada County Wine Guild, says, “There might be some sulfites in my wine at parts per billion, but that’s really splitting hairs. A part per million is a Ping-Pong ball in an Olympic-sized swimming pool. A part per billion would be like one Ping-Pong ball in a thousand swimming pools. Find that ball.”

Mason is also suspicious of the sulfite accusation. “If they have everyone believing that sulfites exist in all wines, then it kind of negates everything we do.”

Mason refers to heavily sulfited specimens as embalmed mummies, calling them “Frankenwines.” Sure enough, sulfites do work to preserve wines for decades, and wines without them sometimes don’t last at all. Many people still recall the 1970s, ’80s and even the ’90s when several releases of new organic wines tasted memorably bad. Cloudy with proteins, highly oxidized or downright spoiled, consumers didn’t forget about it, and these wines left their legacy.

“They gave the whole genre a black eye,” says Norskog, who admits that a few of his wines “have gone south of the border” after bottling. No longer. Our Daily Red, Norskog’s most esteemed organic wine, is the bestselling organic wine in the country.

LaRocca also recounts his time two decades ago as a learning winemaker, when he saw several vintages spoil and others peak at much less than excellent. He has polished his art, however, and tied up loose ends, and his wines, especially the late-harvest Zins, have won numerous awards since. Still, LaRocca sees a tiresome and lingering stigma against organic wines.

“If you’re at a tasting and you have a bad conventional wine and it doesn’t stand out, you say, ‘Oh, that’s a bad wine,’ and move on. But if you notice that it’s organic you say, ‘Aha! It’s organic. That’s why it tastes bad!’ and it sticks in your mind.”

And the Point Is?

Given the endless concern of an organic wine suffering oxidation or spoilage, one may wonder what is even the reason for making it. Bolinas winemaker Sean Thackrey sees little point at all. Although Thackrey reveres old writings and values ancient traditions of winemaking, he doesn’t entirely approve of the pursuit of organic winemaking. He calls the practice “ideological” and likens it to a religion, a practice based more on faith than on any science.

Norskog admits that the fees and paperwork involved in the organic certification process can be a hassle, but he does note that organic wines are a noticeably “clean-burning” beverage, easy on the body and much less liable to leave headaches and hangovers. LaRocca says his family in Sicily made organic wines and that he is carrying on the family tradition. And for Mason, it’s a matter of art, history and principle: “What could be more authentic,” he asks, “than a wine that’s got nothing in it but grape juice and indigenous yeast?”

But for people interested in ecologically sustainable practices and socially responsible winemaking, the sulfite debate doesn’t much matter. What’s important is what occurs in the vineyard. That is why Benziger Family Winery in Glen Ellen has been certified biodynamic since the mid-1990s, with many of the winery’s estate vineyards and outside grape contractors currently in transition.

“Adding sulfites isn’t really something that affects the environment,” says Mark Burningham, vice president of wine growing. “We believe in doing the right thing in the vineyard, which is really where it matters.”

Benziger produces several biodynamic wines, a class of products considered by many to be among the most ecologically sound and holistically pure in the industry. Yet the entire biodynamic genre, which requires third-party certification just like organic, faces scrutiny by those who misunderstand it as a form of pagan religion.

“Biodynamic farming requires a complete and dedicated attention to what you’re doing,” Burningham says. “Other winemakers just look at the calendar to see if it’s time to spray or fertilize. In biodynamic farming, there’s a very spiritual connection to the earth and seasons, and a dedication to the vineyard, but it’s not voodoo.”

Benziger’s 2005 Tribute, a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc, provides a velvety smooth mouthful of strawberry jam, ham, licorice and mint. By the objectives of biodynamic farming, this vibrant red is a perfect and convincing snapshot of the estate vineyard’s flavorful terroir. 

Burningham regularly invites grape growers to taste Benziger’s estate wines, and their quality is convincing. This year, he says, a third of the winery’s outside grape suppliers, after tasting Benziger’s biodynamic wines and examining the vines, decided to pursue organic certification. Several more growers are already biodynamic or are in transition. Burningham assures that in a blind taste test, his biodynamic wines, which carry 100 ppm of sulfites or less, will win.

Norskog grants that sulfite-free winemaking may have little practical purpose, but he has no doubts about the virtues of organic grape growing. He planted two acres of vines on his estate in 1985, dedicating half to organic grapes, half to conventionally treated grapes. The organic vines, he says, attained better health and produced more flavorful, brilliant fruit than their counterparts, and today his entire estate and all his outside suppliers are certified organic.

Bottled Poison

Norskog also believes firmly in organic grape growing for reasons of human health, not the least that of his own family. How, he asks, can you spray your land with a clear conscience while your own children are picking strawberries among the vines? The dangers of synthetic pest killers are plain to Norskog, who has seen two of his own friends die of cancer.

“They were in their sixties, but they looked pretty hardy until they started growing grapes.”

Neither of them, says Norskog, followed organic practices. In fact, some of the highest rates of cancer in the United States occur among workers at conventional farms, according to Mark Kastel of the Cornucopia Institute, a progressive farm-policy research group and aggressive organic-industry watchdog in Wisconsin. Kastel strongly believes in the merits of biodynamic farming and organic farming, and he says the conventional grape-growing industry of both wine and table grapes is one of the most avid users of toxic substances that ultimately can trickle down into the bodies of farmworkers and even nearby residents.

Wine drinkers, too, may be at risk. A startling study reported this year by the Pesticide Action Network found that of 40 wines from several continents, 35 contained traces of residual pesticides, including two French wines over $300. All the uncontaminated wines were made from organic grapes, and only one organic wine in the study was contaminated, a surprise later traced back to chemicals used on an adjacent farm.

Good-to-Go Orgo

Sales of organic wines are on the rise. Frey Winery, which sells 80,000 cases per year, saw wine sales increase by 10 percent between 2006 and 2007, and its wines have ranked in competitions among well-made conventional labels. Frey’s 2006 Syrah smells of ham, licorice and butter with a perfectly round, earthy taste of meat, lavender and a daring trace of motor oil. The Petite Sirah is loud and fruity with black cherries, a scent of herbal soap and chocolate. LaRocca’s 2006 Chenin Blanc glows an unusual gold, smells of apple, pine and honey, and tastes like a blend of mead and retsina, an appealing rough effect that is tempting to attribute to the wine’s sulfite-free status.

California Certified Organic Farmers’ North Coast winery inspector Elizabeth Whitlow believes that the explosion in the organic wine industry is just beginning. The level of consumer interest in organic wine, despite some lingering mistrust, is accelerating, and more and more wineries and vineyards every year express interest in attaining organic certification. Already CCOF is building its staff in anticipation of the increased demand for facility inspections.

California acreage of organically grown grapes is tiny yet expanding. Of more than half a million acres of wine grapes statewide, those certified as organically grown increased from 7,761 in 2004 to 9,240 by 2007. In Mendocino County, the belief in sustainable farming is particularly strong, and nearly 25 percent of wine grapes grown there are certified organic. Consumer demand is having its effect, and Badger Mountain in Washington ceased adding sulfites to its esteemed organically grown wines in 1995 in part to meet requests from retailers. The winery’s production has accelerated by 30 percent in the last five years.

Still, organic wines without added sulfites are very rare, produced by a scant handful of wineries in the States. Wines made with organically grown grapes but containing added sulfites are far more numerous and include Barra of Mendocino, Yorkville Cellars, Bonterra, Jeriko, Medlock Ames and Cabot Vineyards. Benziger has enacted its own “sustainable” program, called Farming for Flavors, which arose as a reaction to so many other producers abusing words such as “green,” “eco-friendly” and “natural.”

Farming for Flavors requires that its growers meet rigorous standards in watershed protection, biodiversifying the local ecosystems, managing pests organically and following other basics. The program now includes 45 winegrowing families and was audited and approved for the first time in 2006 by Stellar. Other sustainable programs are being developed, but consumers must always remember to watch for the third-party certification on the label.

A valid discussion of organic wines goes far beyond mere sulfites. It leaves the winery and moves out to the vineyards. On this soil, organic farming ruled the earth for thousands of years, when farmers dirtied their hands and never thought twice about whether to wear a gas mask as they worked their land. Fertilizer was manure, pesticides were bugs, organic was everything and farming was sustainable.

So why can’t it be now?

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Wine Tasting Room of the Week

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It’s among the most popular of wine country photographs. From the cover of Sunset magazine to various books, Mt. St. Helena rises above fog-shrouded Napa Valley, while terraced vineyards arc across the foreground in the first light of morning. UC Davis graduate Stuart Smith established vineyards here in 1971, joined in a few years by his brother Charles. While the valley below churns with change, Smith-Madrone practices independent, artisan winemaking at the top of the world.

Well, fairly high up on Spring Mountain, anyway. When Stu Smith logged the dense, second-growth forest, he found old redwood grape stakes throughout. The land had once before been cleared for vineyards, in the 1880s. Smith says that he was among the first winemakers to return to the hills after Prohibition, 25 years before others ventured out of the Napa Valley.

Now and then, this column has had a little fun with the cult of the mountain vineyard; Stu Smith isn’t one to wax poetic about the magic of rocks. The brothers’ opinions, in fact, often run counter to the trends, and they’re not too shy to publish them on their website, along with more conventional stuff like wine data sheets. An FAQ about one of their most noteworthy wines turns into a detailed critique of tightly spaced vineyards. Smith-Madrone vineyards have been dry-farmed for three decades way up here among the madrone trees, and the brothers lambaste the water-wasteful trend toward planting de-vigorated little vines on thirsty rootstocks.

The winery’s remote location hinders tourism of the regular sort. It’s not even on the map, but appointments are made for dedicated visitors as time allows. An iconoclast, Smith is no recluse, having long been active in Napa County community politics, serving on committees and heading up auctions and charities.

As noted in these pages last week (“How Sweet Is Dry?” June 11), Riesling is Smith-Madrone’s main fame claim. Its Riesling has steadily gained fame while Napa Valley Riesling in general has become a rare antique. The 2007 Riesling out of the tank is styled dry, at just 0.7 percent residual sugar. This fresh, new Riesling’s austere citrus character is livened by a hint of honey and flowers. Smith describes the 2006 Riesling as being like a 60/40 split between typical Alsace and Germany styles. As for those Napa standbys Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay? Of course, and they’re quite good. To answer the question of just how good, one has only to climb the mountain.

Smith-Madrone Vineyards & Winery, 4022 Spring Mountain Road, St. Helena. Visits by appointment only. 707.963.2283.



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Hop On!

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06.18.08

Rejecting the detachment and often harsh realism of the popular French New Wave cinema movement, the award-winning 1981 film Diva helped usher in the Cinéma du look in all its vivid, hipster glory. Embracing stylish filmmaking in urban settings centered on trendy and disillusioned youth, Cinéma du look is perfectly encompassed in writer-director Jean-Jacques Beineix’s blend of high art and pop culture.

Rialto Cinemas proprietor Ky J. Boyd says that Diva “changed his life” and is one of the main reasons he became an art-house operator. No surprise, then, that his Santa Rosa theater made room in its already crowded summer movie schedule for a one-week-only run of a new 35 mm print of the film. But beyond the heaping piles of praise heaped upon it, what really makes Diva worth seeing is how darn entertaining and original it is.

Jules (Frédéric Andréi) is a mild-mannered, Moped-driving mailman obsessed with American opera star Cynthia Hawkins (Wilhelmenia Wiggins Fernandez), a diva who refuses to immortalize her singing with any sort of recording. After he secretly records one of Hawkins’ concerts for his own private collection, Jules naturally assumes that the dangerous men following him are intent on recovering the stolen performance.

While there are a couple of Taiwanese gangsters who know of his bootleg and are driven to retrieve it for their own monetary gain, Jules doesn’t know that a prostitute also recently hid a tape recording of damning evidence against the head of an international drug and prostitution ring on his person just before she was murdered. On the run for reasons he doesn’t fully understand, Jules, with the help of his eccentric bohemian friends Alba (Thuy An Luu) and Serge (Richard Bohringer), struggles to evade his pursuers long enough to make a romantic connection with Hawkins herself.

Beineix devotes ample attention to populating his world with full and wildly original characters. The diva of the title is a MacGuffin in the grandest sense; the storyline doesn’t revolve around her, but her presence nonetheless drives the narrative along. Jules plays something of a straight man to everyone around him from sunglass-wearing, awl-obsessed hitman Le Curé, played by Dominique Pinon (French film fans will recognize him as popular director Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s frequent collaborator), to the rollerskating, thieving, would-be fashion model Alba.

But the most unique of all is the enigmatic Serge, a recurring character in a series of novels from the author of the book on which the film is based. With his Zen-like demeanor and mysterious lifestyle, Serge is both a wild card and deus ex machina; we are never quite sure of his motivations and place in the story until the very end. And what an end!

Diva opens for one week only on Friday, June 20, at the Rialto Cinemas Lakeside. 551 Summerfield Road, Santa Rosa. 707.525.4840.


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Yummy Maggot Cheese

06.18.08

For centuries, rural cheese makers and big city aficionados in various parts of modern Italy, Germany and France have enjoyed what we’d consider a bizarre and repulsive cheese product certain never to be stocked anytime soon: European farm cheeses deliberately infested with locally favored fly eggs or larvae.

Sardinia’s version is called formaggio marcio, meaning “rotten cheese,” or casu marzu, “maggot cheese.” Both names abundantly apply. This time-honored sheep’s milk cheese not only gets aged into a near toxic viscous goo, attracting enthusiasts with its napalm burn, outhouse aroma and fermenting microbes, maggot cheese likewise lays claim to a mouth-feel difficult to put into words.

Casu marzu was outlawed until 2005 when “raised” flies, rather than “wild” ones, became available to produce the maggots. And, yes, it’s actually considered a delicacy. Sardinians enjoy this rare delicacy by slathering heaping glops of casu marzu on rinsed slices of local flatbread. They fold the wetted bread around their prize before gobbling their treasure down. The casu marzu snaps, crackles and pops effervescently with each bite as hundreds of maggots prance merrily about the insides of one’s grateful maw. Word is strong red vin ordinaire is the must accompaniment. It’s not hard to imagine why.

Diners customarily brush extra-eager squirmies who don’t make it all the way to one’s mouth off shoulders and out of hair before returning to civilization. As you might expect, casu marzu provides local medical practitioners with certain challenges we’d hope not to see here in the States. It seems that undigested maggots have the nasty habit of eating straight through a human’s stomach lining.

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Bug Eatin’

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06.25.08

I‘ve figured it out. I’ve come up with a way to counter the world food crisis, ease global warming and alleviate rural poverty while at the same time interjecting some excitement into the daily routines of millions of Americans.

The solution? Eat bugs.

As a source of protein, eating insects is dramatically more efficient and easy on the environment than a bacon cheeseburger. Raising livestock is a resource-greedy industry that requires vast acres to grow feed crops, huge petroleum inputs in the form of pesticides, fertilizers and transportation. Then there are the clouds of heat-trapping methane gas that cattle release, shall we say, into the atmosphere. It’s estimated that cow flatulence is 23 times more potent than CO2, a major heat-trapping gas.

According to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO), livestock are responsible for 18 percent of greenhouse-gas emissions as measured in carbon dioxide equivalent. This figure includes 9 percent of all CO2 emissions, 37 percent of methane and 65 percent of nitrous oxide. Altogether, that’s more than the emissions caused by transportation.

Insects, on the other hand, are the clear green and nutritious alternative. In a recent issue of Science News, researchers found that that the lowly cricket contained more than 1,550 milligrams of iron, 25 milligrams of zinc and 340 milligrams of calcium, and can be more nutritious than an equal quantity of beef or pork.

Many insects also are richer in minerals than meat. And most lipids in insects, i.e. fats, tend to be long-chain, unsaturated fats that are healthier than those in conventional livestock. Many insects also have high concentration of essential amino acids including lysine and tryptophan, two nutrients that tend to be scarce in the diets of people in the developing world.

Of course, my idea isn’t new. Traditional, rural-based cultures around the world have been eating insects for thousands of years, because they recognize a free lunch when they find one. In Mexico, grasshoppers are an ancient delicacy. Toasted grasshoppers seasoned with lime juice, salt and chile are known as chapulines. The little bugs are cleaned and washed before being cooked, and have a nutty flavor. They’re served in a little bowl, and you eat them with your fingers, kind of like pretzels. They’re quite good.

In Southeast Asia, fierce-looking giant water bugs are roasted and yield a succulent morsel of meat that’s said to taste like scallops. Bamboo trees are host to the succulent bamboo worm.

In Central Africa, mopani worms, actually the larvae of the emperor moth, are a significant source of nutrition and income for the rural poor. They’re a good snack, too. I tried a dried and smoked mopani worm, and while it was a bit dry, it packed a crunchy texture and mild, meaty flavor. Add a little salt and maybe some chile powder, and it would go great with a cold beer.

There’s even a handful of entomophagy (insect eating) advocates in America, like Sunrise Land Shrimp (www.slshrimp.com), a company that seeks to educate people about the benefits of eating insects and develop sources and markets for edible bugs. Of course, there is some rather entrenched opposition to eating bugs in the United States. But our tastes are learned, culturally acquired behaviors. Why is it OK to eat fermented mammary-gland secretions (cheese) and trash-eating marine arthropods (lobsters) but not roasted grasshoppers? Maybe the changing climate and global food shortages will force us to reevaluate what we eat one day.

Who knows? Insects could be the next culinary trend. Peasant cultures have given us some of our most delicious food. Oxtails, short ribs, pig trotters, polenta and broccoli raab were once lowly ingredients that have been elevated to haute cuisine. At the French Laundry, one of chef Thomas Keller’s signature dishes is “Tongue in Cheek,” braised beef cheeks paired with sliced calf’s tongue, a dish made with cheap ingredients that don’t usually conjure up fine dining.Is it hard to imagine an avant-garde, white-tablecloth restaurant serving something like sautéed bamboo worm curry? At this point, yes. But with food prices high and climbing, and the environmental impacts of industrial agriculture, I’ve already expanded my little vegetable garden to help reduce my grocery bill. Maybe I’ll start training my ears toward the bushes when I hear that familiar chirp-chirp at sunset.

Land shrimp on the barby, anyone?

Quick dining snapshots by Bohemian staffers.

Winery news and reviews.

Food-related comings and goings, openings and closings, and other essays for those who love the kitchen and what it produces.

Recipes for food that you can actually make.

Cool Kids

06.18.08

T hose with small children know how hard it can be to go on a date. Even if the date takes place—the plans made, the babysitter procured, the money accounted for—things can go terribly wrong. For instance, if it has been a long time since the last date, one might make an inappropriate choice for a romantic evening, and decide to go see Al Gore’s Inconvenient Truth . Luckily for children across the country, Marin County’s Carleen and Jeff Cullen made exactly this error, one so depressing that when they left the theater, they put thoughts of further romance aside and decided to take action on behalf of the planet instead.

Their first step was to lease An Inconvenient Truth , as well as a movie theater, and show the film free for two days. After each viewing, they facilitated a community discussion, not as environmental experts, but as concerned citizens of the planet. The entire experience was energizing, Carleen Cullen says over the phone. Everyone came up with such great ideas and seemed so motivated and inspired. The Cullens handed out lists of practical carbon-reducing steps, and then went home, feeling like something good had been done and there was hope after all. This sense of euphoria soon came crashing down, however, when they checked in with some of the filmgoers and discovered that all motivation had rapidly dissipated.

This was when the Cullens realized that they had been working with the wrong crowd. Adults tend to be cynical; they want things to be better, but they all too often can’t face the sheer grandiosity of the challenge. Carleen realized that if she could get children to believe, however, they could take the message home with them and convince their parents that we can solve the climate crisis. Furthermore, the only reason parents would need would be standing right in front of them, waving a coupon book in their face.

Cullen reminds me of the good old days, when parents felt perfectly comfortable driving while chain-smoking cigarettes with the windows up, four kids in the car and no one wearing a seatbelt. (Frankly, I get nostalgic just thinking about it.) Then she recalls how things started to change. Education began in the schools, she says, and the kids brought the message home, over and over and over again.

It’s simple: educated children can influence their parents. This is the idea that inspired the Cool the Earth program, a nonprofit designed by the Cullens, for which they work almost incessantly for no fee. The program is designed to be implemented in K-8 classrooms with little to no impact on either the teachers or the school’s finances. So far, 23 schools have taken on the Cool the Earth program, and together saved over 10 million pounds of carbon, the equivalent of taking 850 cars off the road. This summer, Cullen says, their goal is to reach 75 Bay Area schools and another 25 across the country.

Rather than trying to bring curriculum into already saturated classrooms, Cool the Earth is run by parent volunteers, and is brought to the entire school via assemblies and a simple but competitive coupon program. Coupons feature specific carbon-saving tips that anyone can do. Students attend educational and fun assemblies featuring a different play for each year of this three-year program, acted out by teachers in costume.

Each month, there is a spotlight on a particular coupon to keep the interest alive. Kids might build collages out of junk mail, for example, or do a fundraiser selling reusable water bottles. A banner that tracks the coupons used is prominently displayed.

Cool the Earth is about education, inspiration and action. Kids get excited and realize not just what the problems are, but what can be done to help solve them. Right now, the program is reaching 10,000 kids. Add in those influenced parents, and that could be some 20,000 people.

Not only does Cool the Earth aim to keep the program costs at a minimum, but the organization finds the funding for schools that can’t afford it. Right now they are working on getting more costumes together, so that each school can have its own, as opposed to the current borrowing system. Cullen laughs when she tells me that she’s getting a little bit tired of people coming in and out of her garage trying to find an extra polar bear head.

As a high school teacher, I have firsthand experience with individuals who cannot tell the difference between a garbage bin and a recycling bin. The reality is frightening. I only wish that each of my students had been lucky enough to have had a program like Cool the Earth in their early days. Maybe then they wouldn’t be so color blind.

For more information go to www.cooltheearth.org.


The Big Chill

06.18.08

We live in very cold times, and the forecast is for an even chillier future. Yes, summer has brought warmth and sunshine to the North Bay. And in the longer term, it appears that 21st-century consumption is driving up average global temperatures. And yet in a deeper sense, our way of life is increasingly frigid. Despite signs to the contrary, we paradoxically live in an age which is characterized by a lack of fire—as in the energy of heart, connection, community and transformation. This kind of fire is at the core of most, if not all, spiritual traditions.

For many eons, our ancestors regularly gathered around the fire. Here they shared the big stories that gave life meaning. Around the fire, they laughed, danced and reaffirmed their bonds to one another. Here they encountered the Great Mystery. Through heart and fire, they found their connection to the deep wisdom of those who came before them. This state of grace is celebrated in the story of Genesis as the garden of Eden before the Fall.

The great march of history from Eden to virtual reality is really a retreat from the warmth of the heart into the coldness of the mind. (Recall that Adam and Eve were cast out of Eden for eating fruit from the tree of knowledge.) That descent from a felt connection to the divine has brought us dogmatic religion as well as the cool, detached rationalism that is so celebrated in modernism. We have gone from being a myriad of peoples, each honoring the Great Mystery in his or her own way, to a world in which ideas, both theological or scientific in nature, battle for primacy.

Not that the mind is without its utility. The fear-based energy of the mind keeps us out of trouble and is also good for planning out a course of action. But whereas the heart feels its connection to all things and innately knows its eternal nature, the mind understands through distinction and separation, it frets about comfort and ultimately, about mortality. The mind seeks power, predictability and control. The heart is about connection, balance and surrender. Whereas the mind fears, the heart feels joy.

When indigenous peoples (at least those few who still have their traditions intact) look upon our Western culture, they recognize the cleverness of our science and technology. Yet they also see a great sickness in us, how we are driven by a gnawing hunger, a kind of emptiness that we try to fill by consuming more and more. This hunger is now bringing us to a crisis of global proportions.

As cold as our world has become, there are signs of hope. More of us are talking about sustainability, community and a sense of well-being that goes beyond our aptly named “gross” national product. Many are being drawn to the wisdom traditions that help to bring mind and heart back into balance.

I am fortunate to be part of one organization helping to bring heart energy back to our people. The Sacred Fire Community (SFC) is doing so literally by sponsoring regular community fires around the United States and overseas. These fires are an opportunity for people of all spiritual traditions to meet and share stories just as our ancestors once did. Sitting around a consecrated fire, sharing from our hearts, we begin to experience the kind of deep community that is so lacking in our culture. The SFC also has a host of “lifeways” offerings that provide the support of ancestral wisdom for the major transitions, such as initiation, which are part of every individual’s journey.

Contrary to the prevailing wisdom, we won’t be able to think our way out of the challenges to come. But as more of us connect with fire and the wisdom of the heart, as we gather in community and forge alliances across traditions, we will once again find our place in the Great Mystery. And with the help of the ancestors and the grace of the gods, we may just survive.

 Lawrence Messerman is initiated as a ‘marakame’ or shaman in the Huichol tradition. He and his wife, Jessica De la O, host monthly community fires in Sebastopol. Contact la*******@***oo.com for more information.

Open Mic is now a weekly feature in the Bohemian. We welcome your contribution. To have your topical essay of 700 words considered for publication, write [ mailto:op*****@******an.com” data-original-string=”F6KXXCFTQc+fFDcJf3ue5w==06az2Q89FBTcRtzA+dxlObBktiSyOdDXYHSFsNIustK/0y0YSfiCy/tK+pqDIvmcFc7Bnn9v5JiRnl5IPPxhPGnfGcnqBeYF90JGBX1wZZpFr4=” title=”This contact has been encoded by Anti-Spam by CleanTalk. Click to decode. To finish the decoding make sure that JavaScript is enabled in your browser. ]op*****@******an.com.


Gone Buggy

06.18.08

The underlying theme of this week’s special issue is listed on our editorial sheet as “The Earth: A User’s Guide.” That’s got a certain panache to be sure, but really, every week is a so-called green week at the Bohemian. We’re always striving to highlight ecological issues, concerns, solutions and the good people who work on them, whether in our News section, in Gianna De Persiis Vona’s weekly “Green Zone” column, in the Eats area and even in Arts & Ideas.

Green, c’est . . . um, us.

Which set us to thinking. From this chair, it appears that the collapse of our fisheries and the collapse of our pollinators—particularly the colony collapse disorder haunting bees—are the two most under-reported ecological stories of the year. (Except, of course, in the Boho, where it’s lately been nothing but an ocean of ink on fish and, curiously, a barrel of bytes on wine—but that’s another matter.)

From the most vitriolic point of view, bees are used as mere slaves, trucked all over the United States to pollinate the vast almond orchards and other monocultures of Big Ag. Bee stories usually have a humorous tone and emphasize the many English-language puns afforded by their efforts (and, no, we’re not immune). But the current story about bees is not at all funny. Experts estimate that almost 25 percent of all commercial bee operations suffered from CCD during the winter of 2006&–2007. With a full third of all the food produced on earth relying on bees and other pollinators, this little-understood epidemic directly threatens human life. Honey, what’s the buzz—indeed.

Estimated to have been on the earth for some 150 million years, bees are the only insect to produce anything eagerly eaten by humans. Their social structure is complex and perfect, their biology complex and perfect, their communication strategies complex and utterly, entirely perfect. Bees deserve to be hailed, and that’s exactly what we’ve striven to do in this issue, devoting three stories to different apiarian aspects of the modern world.

on a recent sunny afternoon. to report on what can be done to create a safe haven and “spa” for bees in Healdsburg. . A short list of farms that raise bees and sell their products is included in our calendar.

And once we started thinking about bees, things got more than a little buggy, prompting us to hail other insects in this issue, too. , and it turns out that some insects are just so crunchy and yummy when they’re cooked that snacking is in order.

, and. Finally,

It’s all in good fun, but it’s all in good earnest. Bees may prompt a plethora of puns, but their current situation is deeply dire. To highlight this situation, there’s even such a thing as National Pollinator Week, running Sunday&–Saturday, June 22&–28. To learn more, go to www.pollinator.org or to the North American Pollinator Protection Campaign at www.nappc.org.

Plant something that flowers. Reduce regular almond consumption. And please, don’t kill that bee. 


Takin’ Care of Business

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One would think that smiling on your brother would have broad, cross-generational appeal. But when you’re talking about hippie icon Jesse Colin Young, age 66, playing at the teen-friendly Phoenix Theater, then pierced eyebrows get raised. They ask, what’s with all the geezer acts at the Phoenix, man?

Never fear—it’s just the adventurous taste of 24-year-old Jim Agius, whose ancestors were in Petaluma before the Phoenix started life as the Hill Opera House and who has manned the Phoenix Theater’s booking now for nearly a year. While a small handful of teens who spend time at the Phoenix might cry treason, Agius has been challenging perceptions of an older local demographic who might otherwise fall back on the tired subscription of the Phoenix as a run-down punk palace covered in spray paint. “It is definitely a punk-rock-looking venue,” he admits, “and some people aren’t into that.”

The Phoenix’s reputation may have had something to do with this weekend’s Gallagher show getting cancelled, Agius thinks. Of the 50 dates on the watermelon-smashing comedian’s current tour, Petaluma’s show had the lowest ticket sales (about 80). Agius cites two sold-out shows at the then-LBC in 2001 as an indicator that Gallagher should theoretically still be popular around here, but, he says, “I just think a lot of people don’t really like the Phoenix, older people, and I think they will not go see a show at the Phoenix. I think that’s why this show didn’t do well.

“Ironically, before I started doing shows a year and a half ago,” he adds, “I never really went to the Phoenix at all, and I was in that same mentality. So I can see where they’re coming from.” But through sold-out shows in the past year with David Allan Coe and Blue Öyster Cult, Agius has also seen first-hand what experience can do to locals’ preconceptions about the historic haven. “They get there, and they probably have a bad first impression,” he says, “but then they get in and they like it.”

For the upcoming season at least, Agius is back to booking shows with younger appeal. Tiger Army, Bone Thugs -n- Harmony, MxPx, the GZA and New Found Glory are all on deck through October. But don’t count out classic rock just yet. Agius promises that he’ll remain on the power-chord prowl. And hey, after all, the Phoenix in the 1980s hosted the Allman Brothers, Van Morrison, Los Lobos and the Band. “I am open to any huge act who would want to play there,” he says. “I mean, Grand Funk Railroad? Sure! Bachman Turner Overdrive? That’d be neat! I hear they’re getting back together, actually.”

Jesse Colin Young performs this Saturday, June 21, at the Phoenix Theater, 201 E. Washington St., Petaluma. 8pm. $30. All ages; alcohol served. 707.762.3565.

Khan Do

06.18.08Forget Zohan, what about Genghis Khan? Now there's somebody you don't want to be messing with. Which might explain his cultural staying power, and why a movie about him made seven centuries beyond the man's lifetime could actually find an audience. From Russian director Sergei Bodrov (fondly if barely known to American audiences for 1996's Prisoner of the Mountains)...

A Simple Vin

06.18.08Grape juice, yeast and a vintner. Around the world, these three honest ingredients converge as they have for millennia to create the potent product that so many of us love. But deep within the modern winemaking industry, mysterious creatures lurk. In the vineyard and winery, synthesized preservatives, additives, coloring agents and a slurry of names from the periodic table...

Hop On!

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Cool Kids

06.18.08T hose with small children know how hard it can be to go on a date. Even if the date takes place—the plans made, the babysitter procured, the money accounted for—things can go terribly wrong. For instance, if it has been a long time since the last date, one might make an inappropriate choice for a romantic evening, and...

The Big Chill

06.18.08We live in very cold times, and the forecast is for an even chillier future. Yes, summer has brought warmth and sunshine to the North Bay. And in the longer term, it appears that 21st-century consumption is driving up average global temperatures. And yet in a deeper sense, our way of life is increasingly frigid. Despite signs to the...

Gone Buggy

06.18.08The underlying theme of this week's special issue is listed on our editorial sheet as "The Earth: A User's Guide." That's got a certain panache to be sure, but really, every week is a so-called green week at the Bohemian. We're always striving to highlight ecological issues, concerns, solutions and the good people who work on them, whether...

Takin’ Care of Business

One would think that smiling on your brother would have broad, cross-generational appeal. But when you're talking about hippie icon Jesse Colin Young, age 66, playing at the teen-friendly Phoenix Theater, then pierced eyebrows get raised. They ask, what's with all the geezer acts at the Phoenix, man?Never fear—it's just the adventurous taste of 24-year-old Jim Agius, whose ancestors...
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