Beginning of the Best Deployment Ever? First Stop, Jamaica.

I’ll be frank. If the rest of this deployment is anything like the first two weeks, I’m going to have a some significant issues.
First, the food. When I deploy on a Navy ship, I’ve come to expect a certain standard of quality and variety. Meals on a typical USS ship change on a daily basis and different menus are rotated in and out on a weekly or so basis. (it’s actually a 21-day rotation). Fresh fruit is often available, but you can consider yourself lucky if it’s unbruised and even luckier if it’s ripe. Bottles of Texas Pete hot sauce is always available if you need to spice up your food. I’ve become accustomed to a certain standard of eating!

A typical dinner: roast leg of lamb with mango chutney, steamed broccoli, roasted squash.
These choices always available for breakfast: eggs to order, pancakes, fresh biscuits, grits, oatmeal, assorted pastries, perfectly crispy bacon, sausage, fresh cut fruit and assorted pastries.
Ok, enough antics. The food on the Swift is great; not merely good. I’m temped to use the word “awesome,” but I know my excitement tends to lead me to hyperbole. This ship is staffed with a crew of 4 guys who are solely dedicated to feeding the 40+ people billeted here and they are very good at their job. By the time they’re serving a meal, they’re already prepping for the next one. They have pretty salty personalities too. Cruz, in particular, is a riot. “How are you, papa?” is his usual catchphrase, but lately I get “Wa’sup, Mr. Qwee-zow!” He usually yells at us to “Vamanos!” even though we’ve just sat down to eat.
“Where are you from, Cruz?” I asked.
“North Korea” he spat back. “No, I grew up in California... nah man, I’m full of shit. I’m from Honduras.”
Cruz speaks at least six languages.
The dude is in his sixties, but he gets down like a man 1/3 his age. I saw him out in town once and that was plenty. The next day he was up at lord-knows-when to prepare for breakfast (which begins at 0630), chipper as always. Hats off to you, sir.
Another one of the cooks, Raphael, is equally funny and even more talented with languages.
“Raphael, how many languages can you speak,” I asked.
“About half..” he replies.
“Half of all languages? Hahaha.”
“Hmm, yeah. If you need any help with your Tagalog, let me know.”

We were welcomed to Jamaica with a show by a band and cheerleaders from a local high school.

from the Errol Flynn Marina Bar on the first night in Port Antonio.

A raft in the world-famous Blue Lagoon (you know, from the movie with Brooke Shields).

my first round of jerk chicken. served with roast breadfruit and potent jerk sauce and ketchup. This was at the Blue Lagoon.
I knew before I arrived that I had to sample jerk chicken during my visit. I ate it nearly every night, experiencing the best and worst Port Antonio had to offer. I was rarely disappointed. The best jerk chicken was tender and heavily spiked with jerk flavorings, spicy after an overnight marinade in allspice (called "pimento" in Jamaica) and Scotch bonnet peppers (among the hottest peppers on the Scoville scale). Other typical jerk ingredients include cloves, cinnamon, scallions, nutmeg, thyme, garlic, salt, and pepper.
My best dining experience was at the Hotel MockingBird Hill, located in the hills of Drapers, east of Port Antonio. If you’re ever in the area, you should definitely eat here. The drive up the hill is spectacular, the hotel and restaurant take advantage of the view, and the food is delicious and well prepared. I had a goat cheese and roasted beet appetizer; mango gazpacho; jerk-spiced lamb over rice pilaf; and shared too desserts, chocolate trifle and bread pudding. My photos are too dark to post, but I can show you what I had to drink.

Planter’s punch: Appleton Estate rum, lemon juice, grenadine, and soda water.

I asked Natalie, our bartender, if we could sit here for dinner; she said yes. The sun was completely down by the time we were served and the candlelight was not enough to produce good lighting for my photos. (If you really want to see them, just let me know).

I also had a splendid time browsing the Musgrave Market, located off the main square in Port Antonio. I bargained for most of my souvenirs here.

Scallions are very important in Jamaican cookery.

I like my ladies like I like my scotch bonnets, beautiful and dangerous. (They’re among the spiciest chiles in the world with a heat rating of 100,000–350,000 Scoville Units).
I had two dinners at Dickie’s Best Kept Secret, which Frommer's refers to as “a Jamaican experience that just happens to include dinner.” You have to call at least a few hours in advance, because they only stock enough food for the parties that make reservations. The restaurant is a mile and a half west of Port Antonio and is located at a bend in the coastal highway at Bryan’s Bay. The faux-Victorian cottage doesn’t look like much when drive up to it, but you’ll be amazed as you walk/climb down the stairs; the restaurant is built into the cliffside. Needless to say, this restaurant is not wheelchair accessible.
During one of my free Saturdays, I traveled with a van full of people to Ocho Rios, about 2 hours east of Port Antonio. We spent the afternoon climbing Dunn’s River Falls, then headed into town to eat lunch at a local spot our driver recommended.

Goat curry, sliced cabbage and red beans & rice. It’s not much to look at, but believe me, it was flavorful and delicious. It was my favorite lunch in Jamaica.

Boston Beach is breathtaking. It is also a few miles east of Port Antonio and is supposedly the birthplace of jerk cooking.
If you ever get a chance to visit Jamaica, do yourself a favor and spend a few days in Port Antonio. You’ll be welcomed by friendly locals, great jerk chicken and pork, and the natural beauty of Jamaica (which you might not get in the more tourist oriented towns).
If the rest of this deployment is anything like Jamaica, I’ll be broke and overweight when this is all through.

Come Over and Eat, I've Got Polenta

Why was I ever intimidated by this creamy, luscious dish? Was I intimidated by it’s multi-syllable name? Perhaps I should have thought of them as grits. They’re the same thing, after all.

I first found Mark Bittman’s article on the subject, but it didn’t seem foolproof. The recipe has you boiling a 1:1 ratio of cornmeal and water over medium heat, adding water as necessary to keep the mixture loose. I could see myself burning it. I needed something easier.

This recipe, adapted from Marcella Hazan’s “no-stirring” method, sounded a lot easier. You boil 4 cups of salted water, add the cornmeal in a stream, lower the heat to low, and cook it covered, stirring every 10 minutes or so for 45 minutes. This recipe took a little more time, but seemed a lot easier to me.

I adapted the recipe a bit further, making a slurry of 1 cup cornmeal and 1 cup of water to add to 3 cups of boiling, salted water. This combined Bittman’s lump busting technique with Hazan’s “no-stirring” method. It worked out beautifully. I ate a bowl of polenta with some gently braised kale and black beans. Homey and easy.

Creamy Polenta (adapted from Bittman and Gourmet)

4 cups water
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup polenta (not quick-cooking) or yellow cornmeal (5 ounces)

Bring 3 cups of water to a boil with salt in a 4-quart heavy pot, then add a slurry of polenta and the remaining cup of water, whisking. Cook over moderate heat, whisking, 2 minutes. Reduce heat to low and simmer polenta, covered, stirring for 1 minute after every 10 minutes of cooking, 45 minutes total. Remove from heat and serve warm.

It's a Small World After All and The Search for Cubanos

So, if you read my post from a couple days ago, you know that I flubbed and missed my flight off the Bataan, but I made it to GITMO the next day. I was supposed to fly out the next day on a NALO flight to Norfolk, so I knew if I wanted to eat a Cuban sandwich, that’d be my only chance.

My barracks are on the “Leeward” side of the base and all of the restaurants are on the “Windward” side. (It’s a 30-minute ferry ride between the different sides). I took the ferry from the ferry landing and immediately inquired about finding some Cuban cuisine. Unfortunately, nobody was able to help me out. I got a recommendation for the Bayview, which has a nightly Mongolian grill special most nights, so, without any better options, I made my way there.

The short ride on the shuttle bus provided a brief tour of the windward side and I eventually made my way to the Bayview. I poked around and though it did look tasty, Mongolian grilled food isn’t something I can’t get back home. (Heck, there’s a place right by where I live). They did have a nice O-club though, which I visited later.

I wandered around and found “The Jerk House” down the same street. Contrary to the name, the service was just fine. (har har) It’s a Caribbean place and it was pretty good. I ordered the combination dinner, which included jerk chicken, jerk ribs, beans and rice, cole slaw, a sauce, and johnny cakes. The meats were tender and well spiced. The beans and rice were plain, but good. The cole slaw provided a cooling contrast to the spicy jerk seasoning. The johnny cakes were good too. I was expecting something like corn bread, but it was a dense fried bread instead; the golf ball-sized bites were crispy on the outside and a dense crumb on the inside. The reminded me of Chinese fried donuts, only more dense (and not covered with sugar). Overall, dinner was good. It wasn’t the Cuban food I was looking for, but it was still satisfying.

I went back to my room and went to bed, falling asleep with my thoughts on my return home in my head.

This is where it got interesting/annoying.

The next morning, I called the hangar to find out about the NALO flights for the day. “Call back in 20 minutes,” said the Chief who answered the phone. “Ok,” I hung up. That was an impossible request though, because the entire leeward side of the island secured the power for maintenance on the generators from 0800-1700. Around 1030, I made my way to the hangar and was told to come back at 1430 to stand by for the 1630 flight to Norfolk. Sweet.

Phillips and I came back at 1200, because we had to check out of the lodging and found out that the C-130 flight had been delayed for 24 hours. Dang.

We headed back to the lodging and checked back in. (We were able to keep our original rooms). We decided to head to the windward side for lunch. We were both starving; neither of us had had breakfast. The guy at the front desk was also nice enough to tell us about the Cuban restaurant on the other side of the base. My dreams of a Cubano were still alive!

The “Cuban Club” was located in a pink building surrounded by mango treas. They had a prepared lunch special going on, but I ordered a cuban sandwich and fried plantains.

The plantains were delicious: crispy on the outside and just slightly sweet. The “Cuban sandwich” was tasty, but not a “real” cubano, at least not any kind that I’ve seen before. Sure, it had roast pork and ham, but it also had some weird things on it, like american cheese and ketchup. Yeah, ketchup. And no pickle!

Overall, I enjoyed my lunch, but I know I didn’t eat the sandwich I was jonesing for. Maybe I need to go to Miami. Oh well.

After that I got lost. Well, sort of. I jumped onto the next shuttle bus that pulled up, but noticed that it wasn’t stopping where I was expecting it to stop. Turns out it was heading to “Camp America.” I’m pretty sure that’s where the prison is. Either way, they wouldn’t let me on to that part of the base, so I had to wait at the gate until the shuttle came back through. I waited a minute and a golf cart pulled up being driven by MC3 Bliss! What a small world. (Bliss and I were on part of the public affairs team on USS Theodore Roosevelt’s most recent deployment). I had heard that she was on an IA to GITMO, but it was quite the coincidence that brought her to that gate. She offered me a ride (on the golf cart) to the Starbucks I was originally heading to.

So, GITMO has been fun, but I’m looking forward to getting back home. We’ll be stopping in Jacksonville on the way back, maybe they have cuban sandwiches there...

Stay With the Bird OR My Semi-successful Departure from Haiti

The moral of today’s story is in the title: Stay with the Bird.

This post isn’t about food, but it is about the Navy or at least one story from one Sailor in this Navy.

If, as Seneca says, Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity, then today I was ill-prepared at an inopportune time.  Allow me to explain:

Today was to be my day of glory.  I was on track to depart the USS Bataan, riding into the sunset (or at least to Guantanamo Bay) on a Navy H-53, a massive, heavy lift helicopter we try not to fly into Haiti, because its rotors are too powerful to fly near tent cities.  This helicopter was loaded with my and about twenty other people’s bags.

We were lined up on the “ramp” on the aft end of the ship, waiting to board the flight.  We marched out there in the midday sun, decked out in the requisite “horse collar” and “cranial” (a wearable, inflatable safety device & matching helmet), guided by our Combat Cargo personnel.  We stood behind the “foul line” as they loaded the last of the bags.

I was at the front of the line, taking pictures of MCSN Phillips, who was part of my public affairs team here on the Bataan.  This was his first time underway and his first time to be heading home after an underway.  He was excited and I was excited for him.

They motioned for the first five of us to board, but as I was just about to step inside, they sent us back to the ramp, shutting down the helicopter.  We were “delayed 25 minutes or so” while they inspected the problem: a hydraulic leak.  Seaman Phillips and I were scheduled to take a follow-on flight that was supposed to leave minutes after we arrived Cuba.  A lot of effort had been expended to make this last-second plan happen.

I informed the Combat Cargo team and Mr. Phillips that I was making a quick phone call to update my chain-of-command.  *Nods all around.*

I make the phone call; head directly back to the ramp; then recoil in horror as I realize that the ramp is now empty.  I quickly grab my safety gear and run out to the flight deck, escorted by a Combat Cargo Marine.

As we hurry out, I notice that the flight deck crew is “pulling the chocks” on the 53, the pilots gearing up for take-off.

They left me.  No chance they could turn around either; believe me, I asked (cried). *cough* (ok, not really cried, of course).  All of my clothes and more importantly, my toiletries were in my bags on that flight en route to “GITMO.”  Doh!  I hope they don’t lose my bags.

The only thing worse than missing a flight is telling everyone I needed to tell that I missed the flight.  First, I called back my chain-of-command to let them know about my latest debacle; there were laughs.

Next, I talked to the personnel transfer request officer: “Why are YOU still here?” He let me know that I would be able to take the same flight, tomorrow afternoon.  The best news is that because we weren’t going to make that “close call” flight back to the States (because of the initial delay) I’ll still make it back home at the same time later this week. So, not quite off the ship yet, but a semi-successful end nonetheless.

From now on, though, no matter what, I’m going to stick with the bird.
 

Relief in Haiti and Sliders on USS Fort McHenry

Hello! It’s been a while, I know. I’m currently off the coast of Haiti embarked aboard USS Bataan in support of Operation Unified Response.

Shortly after word of the 7.0-magnitude in Haiti January 12 had spread, I was tasked to join the Bataan Amphibious Readiness Group, which was ready to go underway in less than 36 hours.

USS Carl Vinson was in the immediate area and was one of the first ships on scene. The retitled Bataan Amphibious Relief Mission, composed of USS Bataan, USS Carter Hall, and USS Fort McHenry, were on station January 18. USS Gunston Hall, conducting the Africa Partnership Station mission, diverted to provide aid as well.

During this time, I’ve had a couple opportunities to head ashore to escort news media. Many words have been said about the devastation in Haiti and many word have been said about the strength and resiliency of the Haitian people, so I’ll just add a few. Many people are displaced from their homes living in tents and shelters built by US military forces, UN forces and NGOs, but many others are living in makeshift tents built out of sheets and materials found lying around. Most Haitians are apprehensive about returning to their houses for fear of more earthquakes. Things have drastically improved and life is returning to the way it was before the earthquake. No matter where I went, whether it was to damaged neighborhoods, medical clinics or to the post-op section of tents by a hospital, people were smiling. They were clearly thankful for the aid being provided by everyone in the country. There were lots of kids running around. They had the brightest smiles I’ve ever seen.

During my time in Haiti, I’ve also had the chance to walk through several markets. I didn’t make any purchases, but I was able to take a look at some of the stands. (Let me preempt this entry by telling you that I know very little about Haitian food). Every busy street had a person on the corner selling wheelbarrows full of sugar cane, which to me look like spears of maroon bamboo. There were stands filled with different types of fried goodies; some sold beans and rice. Other stalls sold garlic, onions, and various types of produce. There were other vendors selling real lump charcoal (as opposed to the briquettes we’re used to seeing). Lots of people eat mangoes, which seem to be growing everywhere.








A couple days ago, I had the opportunity to visit USS Fort McHenry. My visit coincided with a visit from the Maritime Component Commander and they saved me a seat at the planned lunch. The Admiral had specifically requested “Sliders.”

I don’t know if it’s a fleet-wide tradition, but most ship’s I’ve visited have “Slider Wednesdays” so, I’ve had my fare share of burgers aboard ships. It’s usually one of the better meals of the week; reliable and consistent, although I can’t say I’ve ever been extremely impressed. Preformed, frozen patties; generic packaged buns; and mediocre lettuce, tomatoes, and onions are the norm. Some ships offer sauteed onions and mushrooms, which work well to add some panache to a mediocre burger. I usually top my burgers with jalapenos from the salad bar too.

This meal, though, was exceptional (and not just by food-on-the-ship standards). The all beef-patties were thick, hand-formed, and juicy; the produce was fresh; and best of all, the buns were freshly baked! This was a slightly more formal meal — how formal can you be if you’re serving burgers? — so each cheeseburger was preassembled with cheese and all the toppings (like at a restaurant). The fries were hot and appropriately salted. This was most likely the best burger I’ll ever eat on a ship. Oh, I nearly forgot that this was a multi-course meal: the meal started off with a simple salad and was followed by soup. They were basic and obviously not very memorable. The cheeseburgers were also served with a side of chicken nuggets. Not bad.

The meal concluded with two chocolate chip cookies served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Dessert looked delicious. I say “looked” because I’m abstaining from sweets for the next 40 days or so. I was extremely tempted by the cookies, but I was able to console myself with more sweet tea. I hope that’s not cheating. My biggest regret about this trip is that I forgot to bring my camera to lunch. What kind of blogger am I? (don’t answer that...)

Until next time, please take care.

Bravo, United

Sitting at my desk never felt so good.

After a wonderful short trip to San Diego to visit Nick and accompany him to the HMLA/T-303 Marine Corps Birthday Ball, I knew I had to get back and get packing! After all, the countdown to check out has begun.

As luck would have it, my flight from San Diego to Norfolk (via Chicago) would be drastically delayed. I spent 6 hours at the San Diego Airport. United Airlines assigned us a broken aircraft, there was no back up and no availability on any other flight (what are the odds I visit during a Realtor's conference week?). My only option was to get to Chicago whenever the aircraft was repaired and take a Monday flight to Norfolk. Awesome.

Arrived at the airport and with time to spare, I agreed to a fast food breakfast with my fiance. McDonald's, his favorite. Arrived at the gate and with time to spare, I enjoyed some coffee. Starbucks nonfat latte, my favorite. And as the flight time kept getting pushed back, I had tons of time to spare. Then it was time for lunch.

ENTER: Relevance to food blog --> There is no such thing as eating well or inexpensively when traveling. My options for lunch were $9.78 pizza or $9.78 sandwich. Really? I have yet to be introduced to a sandwich worth the ten dollar bill in my wallet. This sandwich was no exception to that rule, but I was hungry and I knew it was this or airplane peanuts.

This airplane didn't have peanuts. Only $8 snack box options. Really? Eight dollars for the food I used to get for free? I thought everyone shared these sentiments, but apparently not. The gentleman next to me ordered the Luxe snack box and the Original snack box, plus a cheese tray. I laughed to myself at first, but soon realized he must have been in this situation before.

After a long flight, a long walk to the customer service desk at O'Hare, a long line at that desk to get my hotel voucher, and a long wait for the hotel shuttle, I needed dinner. I was starving! I was wishing the guy in 17F would have offered to share his crackers. Anyway, anyone who knows me well, knows that my patience wears thin the longer I go without food. And patience truly is a virtue when you've been traveling for 12 hours, you aren't allowed to collect your luggage until your final destination, and you aren't booked on the first flight to Norfolk, but the second.

So my first question when checking into the hotel was,"where is the restaurant and how long is it open?" I had 15 minutes. Again, I reiterate my first point. There is no such thing as eating well or inexpensively when traveling. My caesar salad and wings were not memorable, and not worth the $25. I did enjoy my company, Alice and Pei Lin, two realtors (probably not a coincidence) I will always remember!

So Monday morning I woke up early, showered with hotel amenities, put on my Sunday clothes and rode back to the airport. I was saying a prayer for an open seat on the first Norfolk flight. It seemed like a three mile walk to gate F12A, only to find out the flight was booked and everyone was checked in. I would only get on the flight if someone didn't board.

The announcement was made and the lucky travelers booked on the first flight walked down the jet way. And then, "Norfolk passenger Bravo, your plane is boarding now." And "Paging Ms. Bravo, your flight to Norfolk is boarding." I was hopeful, but fully expecting this "passenger Bravo" to speed up to the gate at any moment, frazzled and frantic and ready to get to Norfolk. And then she didn't. And I flew home, earlier than expected.

So for dinner last night I made pan-seared NY strip, asparagus, mashed potatoes, and an herb salad. It was delicious. And maybe $12 total.

No thanks to United. My thanks are to Ms. Bravo, for having a case of the Mondays and missing that flight.

And while I was planning on writing about my first meal in San Diego, or the fact that my fiance tried Thai food for the first time, or my delicious homemade sausage gravy and biscuits that are a post-USMC Ball tradition...those events were overshadowed by the 2-day return to the East Coast.

No Frills Weekend

After two weeks at the Defense Information School (DINFOS) at Fort Meade, Md., I was ready to be home in Norfolk! As much as I enjoyed the two-week Visual Information Manager's Course (shout OUT to class 010-10), I think it's safe to say that was plenty of time to talk production, imagery accession, budget, and personnel.

It is pretty much perfect right now in the Hampton Roads area, and I'm really trying to hit up my top spots in town. I have orders to the Navy Public Affairs Support Element (NPASE) West, and in a few weeks I'll be making my cross-country road trip to California.

Realizing our limited time together on the East Coast, my sister Sara decided to head down Saturday. We both just wanted to hang out and spend time together.

After the long (lots of traffic) drive from DC, a (super busy) day babysitting my friend's beautiful 9-month old daughter, and a last minute decision to skip the gym, we weren't making big-time, late-night plans for Saturday. We were, however, incredibly hungry!

We decided on No Frill Bar & Grill, a Norfolk favorite conveniently located in Ghent.

First thing to order: beer.

Best choice: Sierra Nevada Harvest Wet Hop Ale. (It only came in large bottles, darn it!)

Second thing to order: food.

We started with a delicious artichoke dip! It was nothing like I've had before, extra creamy and pretty much awesome, served with pita instead of chips. The appetizer was so delicious, I didn't get a photo before it was gone! >> Coming soon! >> Beth's new and improved spin-arti recipe!

Our salads had a pepper parmesan dressing (like ranch with extra deliciousness).

My dinner? London Broil Pita.

Sara and Steve had burgers, Adam had some crazy huge deli special. NFG has great burgers, famous meatloaf, HUGE sandwiches and great service. Whatever you like, you'll find it there! It is highly recommended!

Basically, my dinner was exactly like my weekend. Close to home, in great company, comfortable and totally satisfying!