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Fish Wednesday, Fish Hugger Goes to Tampa Edition

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It probably would have gone better for them if I’d called first. Then, I’d have had a date with the education coordinator and the two desk people and the nice guy who feeds the fish wouldn’t have been put on the spot like that. But since I hadn’t called, it was more of a spot check. And the Florida Aquarium failed.

For the record, I did enjoy the aquarium rather a lot. The tanks were pretty, the fish looked healthy and happy and active, and the earnest young people tending the exhibits were able to answer all my pesky questions. “Why can’t I poke that?” and “What is that fish doing?” being two of my favorites.

I also loved the local exhibits that replicated the mangroves. I liked the squat ruddy duck and the spoonbill and watching the alligators hang in the water with just their snouts sticking out. I loved the tiny watchful owl, round eyed and so adorable I wanted to put her in my pocket and take her home. The sea dragons are still miraculous, the jellies elegant and formal, and the tropical fish, oh, I’ll admit it, they always make me a little weepy, I love them so much.

But after I was done admiring the tanks, I headed down to the desk to ask about the seafood conservation programs at the aquarium. “What huh?” said the nice gal behind the desk. She passed me off to her boss, I think, who replicated some of the “What huh?” and called the guy from fish husbandry. When she heard us talking, she finally knew what I wanted. “OH! You mean fish that PEOPLE eat!” she said, while the guy who makes the food for the fish was on the walkie talkie trying to find me someone from education to talk to. They wanted to help. It wasn’t their service that was bad, it was their knowledge. Ouch.

The very nice gal who came out knew exactly what I was talking about. Maryssa was her name and she’s just moved to Tampa from where she used to work, the Monterey Bay Aquarium, home of Seafood Watch. “I asked about that as soon as I started working here, ” she said. And they are a partner, but she couldn’t hand me a Seafood Watch wallet card for this part of the country. She couldn’t point me to educational materials about seafood conservation and she didn’t know if the aquarium has worked with area restaurants in the past.

It’s an unfortunate state of affairs when the staff at an aquarium can’t answer questions about conservation programs. I don’t know what kind of training the staffers have, but if conservation and the human impact of eating fish on the marine environment isn’t even acknowledged by the facility, well, I don’t know what they’re offering beyond being an underwater zoo. I genuinely believed Maryssa’s concern - her enthusiasm for the Seafood Watch program was sincere and we traded stories about hassling the waitstaff at restaurants over the seafood, but it’s not enough. I have more Seafood Watch cards in my house than there were in this aquarium.

Florida Aquarium, It probably matters to you not one bit, but this fish hugger is watching you. Get with the program, okay?

5 Comments | Posted in » Fish Wednesday

Fish Wednesday: Badgering the Server Edition

From where I sit, there are only a handful of walkable restaurants - the Waffle House, a PF Changs, something called Maggiano’s, a fancy-ish place called the Palms, a Chipotle, something else called Via! and a Mitchell’s Fish Market. I was hungry, we’re in Tampa, it’s coastal. We went with Mitchell’s. No surprises there.

Mitchell’s is a smallish chain - their website sports the Ruth’s logo, as in Ruth’s Chris steak houses. It’s shiny and noisy inside, decorated in a style inspired by old fashioned steamer ships - there are portholes and shiny wood and a faux elegance - I’m guessing it’s designed to make you forget you’re at the mall, to transport you to the grand dining room of some ocean crossing vessel. Um, okay, I’ll bite. Plus, there’s fish on the menu.

The poor waitress was not really prepared for my questions. “Where’s George’s Bank?” That’s where the scallops were from. “Is grouper the same as cod? And what fishery does the sea bass come from? Do you make sure your fish comes from sustainable fisheries?” I left her a hefty tip because in spite of the fact that she could not directly answer my questions, she scampered back to the kitchen every time to ask. I appreciated that.

I really needed to be talking to the buyer or the chef, but it was Friday night at prime time, that wasn’t going to happen. I figured I’d email Mitchell’s when I got the chance. Lucky Mitchell’s - they’ve got a statement on their site about their commitment to sustainable seafood. Kudos. Though they’re still getting an email - if they’re committed to sustainability, I think their servers should be able to talk about it. I’m quite convinced that the server didn’t understand my question because she came back with the name of the fish distributor, not the actual geographic location of the sea bass fishery.

She tried. I’m fairly confident it’s not every day that the waitstaff at the mall by the airport in Tampa gets grilled about their commitment to sustainable seafood.

And hey, about that seafood. It was okay. The scallops were perfectly cooked, no small feat - they were absolutely the best thing on the plate and worth their price. The snapper and the grouper were overdone, dry on the edges and very, very plain tasting. The preparation was nice - they call it Shang Hai style - you get a bed of rice some spinach, the lot dressed in soy and ginger and black sesame seeds - I like to do fish this way myself, at home.

I’d rather do independent/local when I have the option and probably, I should have called a cab and buzzed into town (or out to some low rise strip mall) for Cuban food. I wanted to walk, I didn’t want wheels underneath me. It was okay. Mostly, I am pleased to know that in the opposite corner of the country from my home, there’s an acceptable chain restaurant that’s openly committed to serving sustainable seafood - even if their staff doesn’t totally get it. It’s a start.

2 Comments | Posted in » Fish Wednesday

Wheelie Suitcase Blues

I’ve been doing a bit of jetting about lately, and not the most fun kind, where you suffer through the trials of coach because you’re going to spend the next two weeks - three months traveling elsewhere. Nope, this is the stuff where you’re wedged into a seat that is too small for the average American, rattled around like a dice in a Yahtzee cup, and spit out into a strange airport, only to do the same thing in reverse 48-72 hours later.

I’m left feeling dizzy, hungry for fresh produce, and wondering where the hell I am after this kind of travel, jittery with exhaustion and disorientation. I loved the idea behind my recent junket to NYC, but the reality was a lot more jarring. And when I shuffled off to the shower at 4:07 this morning, I was none too psyched to be off on another short trip - this one to a writer’s conference. I’m in the process of confirming another four day excursion, also tightly scheduled, a mere two weeks from now and as much as I am thrilled to be heading south of the border, down Mexico way, this is another non-vacation event, where I’ll need to be dressed in a clean shirt and have my networking hat on.

Typically, when I write about travelers, I focus on the free spirited wanderers, my fellow graduates in the school of the road, acolytes of beat poets and Buddhist ascetics. But lately, it seems my solidarity is with the road warriors, those schlepping cases of samples off to Salt Lake City, people in suits or branded polo shirts carrying folders of papers with corporate logos on them. They stride through the terminals, cell phones glued to one ear, dragging a regulation sized carry-on topped with a laptop bag and whoosh, off they go.

On the plane they’re editing Excel spreadsheets, punching tiny emails into Blackberries, reading Important Financial News, or talking intensely with the sales rep from region 9 who they bumped into on the stopover in Minneapolis. They’re in a state of eternal transit, calling back to the office the moment the airplane’s wheels touch the tarmac saying, “Hey, can you reschedule my three o’clock, my connection to Newark is delayed.”

I don’t know if they exist in some timeless space where sleep is optional and the landscape consists of office parks and chain restaurants. I find it extremely disconcerting to wing across thousands of miles to scenery that looks just like what I left behind - parking lots and Starbucks vast swaths of asphalts covered with cars that differ only in their license plates from those I left behind in the dark hours of the morning. If I’m going to tackle the monsters of transit, at least I want to end up some place visibly different. At the very least.

The business nomads seem confident and relaxed, maintaining a neatly pressed look to their silk blouses, calmly taking off their practical pumps in security, standing in stockings while handing over their boarding passes yet again. I admire their fortitude and wonder if they haven’t found a way to apply some kind of mental blinders to the physical and mental turmoil of transit, of unnaturally hauling your body from A to B by sheer force of internal combustion and will.

I never want to loose my sense of stunned fascination at finding myself in the afternoon three - or ten - time zones away from where I woke up in the morning. I wonder if regular business travelers become cavalier about it, if I will become cavalier about it, trading my keen sense of observation in for an ease with changing surroundings. I envy those who travel painlessly, who never get seasick, who fall asleep on airplanes as though they were natural places for humans to nap.

I suppose the price I pay for the intensity of feeling I bring to my travels is the toll that transit takes on my psyche. Usually, I think it’s worth it. Today, as I look across four lanes of traffic at a shopping mall that looks just like the one we pass on the way to the airport by my house, I’m not so sure.

12 Comments | Posted in » Seattle

We Love Lucy: Field Trip to the Pacific Science Center

Lucy is 3.2 million years old. She’s tiny, a little over 3 feet tall. She’s spent most of her modern life in a secure vault in Ethiopia but she’s been let out to see the world - or to let the world see her. Which is what we did on Sunday on the first ever Nerd’s Eye View field trip.

You don’t get to meet Lucy right away. First, you wander through a gorgeous collection of Ethiopian artifacts that give you some sense of context for Lucy’s homeland. We loved this unexpected part of the exhibit - the items on display are stunners, and it’s a delight to be exposed to a culture so fascinating and a land so exotic. It only took until we reached the second or third room of objects for me to say this: “We need to go to Ethiopia.”

Sidebar: We totally need to go the Ethiopia. Unfortunately, current airfares are hanging out at about 1800 USD for a round trip ticket from Seattle. If we’d like to do a guided tour - I am surprised to find myself thinking that this would be a rather good idea - they start at around 1100 USD. The math is troubling - there are two of us, after all and our desire to travel slow means we need more time. If you’ve traveled Ethiopia independently, I’d love to hear about it, please leave links in the comments. In the meantime, I may have to settle for Ethiopian food at that place on Cherry that’s so delicious. And friendly. And about 25 bucks for two, with beer!

Once you’ve got a picture of the vibrant culture of Ethiopia, you enter the science portion of the exhibit. These rooms are full of stuff to do that teaches you about how fossils are found, how Lucy herself was found, how human skeletons have changed since Lucy’s time… there are things to poke and crank and rotate. First you go to Ethiopia, then you’re an archeologist or geologist.

Next, you walk up the long ramps past fossilized skulls from the historic family of man. you see them change from tiny flattened boxes that have little space for making ideas to broad cheekbones with shelf like brows to the current incarnation, a bone house for the brain that’s shaped just like you and me.

A uniformed police officer waits outside Lucy’s room - she’s very fragile and a long way from home and needs protection. And then, there she is. Her fragile bones are held into place in front of a mirror so you can see how she looks from both sides. A wrap around backlit mural shows the development of mankind from the earliest specimens to modern time. There’s a disturbingly life like replica of what she looked like when she was still alive, bright eyes and long toes, smiling and furry. The little sister of humanity looks over her shoulder at you and you ask yourself what you know about history.

Lucy is on display at the Pacific Science Center in Seattle until March 8th. It’s really worth your time. You should go.

4 Comments | Posted in » Kultcha, Seattle

Fall in Lincoln Park

[Click for Fall slide show.]

3 Comments | Posted in » Playing Outside, Seattle

First Ever Reader Field Trip: Pacific Science Center this Sunday!

The nice folks at the Pacific Science Center invited me to the opening of Lucy’s Legacy: The Hidden Treasures of Ethiopia - which I totally, accidentally blew off. Oops.

Never mind, they followed up by sending me a handful of passes. Twice. Oops.

Never mind. I want YOU to have them.

But wait, there’s a catch. You have to go with ME. I have six extra passes to the exhibit and I’d love it if you’d join us (me and Mr. NEV) on a field trip. Afterwards, if we still like each other, if we’re sort of hitting it off, we’ll wander over to the McMenimans on Queen Anne for early dinner/late lunch/bar food and beer/etc.

If you want to come solo, that’s awesome, but because I know you might want to bring a friend, I’m going to give these away in pairs. (Yes, you can bring your kid, Nerd’s Eye View adores other people’s kids! AND they’re welcome at the McMenamins, too!)

To get two passes, just leave a comment that cleverly includes the word “fossil.” I’ll pick three at random from the comments to show up (with sidekick) at the Pacific Science Center entrance at 1pm on Sunday, October 19th. You’ve got until Saturday morning at 9am to enter. I’ll update this post with the winners at that time. (Or something close to that time.) [We're meeting commenter BuhRett on Sunday! Yay!]

What? You already know me and you STILL want to join? You read the rules. Post your comment. I really will pick at random, so give it a whirl. [Time's up, sorry, folks. Check back, though, I'll be giving away the remaining passes soon. And planning the next field trip!] (The clever use of the word “fossil” is just to amuse me. But if you don’t use “fossil”, you’re out.) And hey, even if you don’t win, if you’re feeling flush (or you work at MS and have a PRIME card) and want to tag along, just show up.

Field trip! Got yer buddy? Your permission slip? Let’s go!

4 Comments | Posted in » Kultcha, Seattle