Spontaneity with a Side Order of Asparagus

Yesterday was one of those rare days when spontaneity ruled, producing a rich blend of interaction with friends and a great movie experience. I went into town to return an overdue book and to buy asparagus at the Kleinmarkthalle, hoping to get to the bottom of what I now refer to as The Great Asparagus Debate. Afterwards, I treated myself to a Cappuccino and the newest issue of The Economist at one of my favorite cafes. I was deep into The Economist, thinking about ordering a second Cappuccino, when a couple of friends sneaked up and snapped a picture of me with my head buried in the magazine, and then joined me for coffee. They were showing a young guest from France around town and wanted to go to the Kleinmarkthalle, too. I reminded them of our plans to drink a glass of wine upstairs on a Saturday, and they agreed that it would be a great idea, so off we went. After looking around on the ground floor and introducing them to my favorite Frikadellenbude (unfortunately, the Frikadellen were a bit dry this time) we headed upstairs and ordered three glasses of red wine and went out to the balcony to enjoy the wine and the lively atmosphere. After a second round we were planning to go our separate ways when Frau Bloggerboy called and asked me if I wanted to go see the film Sin nombre. And so, I took our friends, who also like films, and the three sorts of asparagus to the movies.

Sin nombre is quite a good film. Written and directed by Cary Fukunaga, an American born of a Japanese father and Swedish mother, Sin nombre is Fukunaga’s first full-length film, and it is hard to believe that Fukunaga is only 32 years old given the polished film. Fukunaga allegedly was inspired to make the film after reading about an incident in which numerous illegal aliens died in a container trying to cross the border. I think many Americans only think of the border between the US and Mexico as the focus of the immigration controversy. Fukunaga shows us an underground railroad that stretches down through Mexico to the rest of Latin and South America. He gives us a compelling portrait of what life in the bottom echelons of Latin American society – gangland – might be like, providing one explanation for the pressure cooker that pushes people north to seek a better life. The music by Brazilian pianist and composer Marcelo Zarvos is hypnotizing and sad, adding to the film's melancholy. There are landscape shots of great beauty. What arises as the film unfolds is an image of a sea of quiet discontent, its tide rising to wash untold numbers of hispanics northward. No time is spent blaming the gringos for the problems, and no time is spent showing the inequities in the systems south of the border that lead people to risk their lives to make it to America and others to seek the shelter of a brutal gang system. In the simplest terms Fukunaga shows people of dignity struggling to get away and others trying to profit from their vulnerability. The alternative for the two gang members who are the film’s protagonists is between victimizing the travelers (submitting to the gang’s order) and fleeing for one’s life (betraying the gang). One character chooses to flee, the other to remain, and the latter swears vengeance against the former to redeem himself in his fellow gangmembers' eyes. The film is quite violent, but the violence is quick and predictable and not overly sensuous – masterful and effective in keeping us attentive. We see a child brutally initiated into the gang. We see a young man fall in love with a woman outside the gang, which sets him on a path of confrontation with the gang.

The great meeting and mixing of cultures -- I intentionally do not use the word clash -- that is going on in the Western Hemisphere is fascinating. The film reminds me most of Cormac McCarthy’s great Border Trilogy and the more recent No Country for Old Men. If you are interested in this theme, I urge you to see this film. Thinking about the film this morning I was reminded of one of the closing scenes in Cities of the Plain, when Eduardo, the Mexican says to John Grady Cole, the American: “Your kind cannot bear that the world be ordinary. That it contain nothing save what stands before one. But the Mexican world is a world of adornment only and underneath it is very plain indeed. While your world … totters upon an unspoken labyrinth of questions. And we will devour you , my friend. You and all your pale empire. (p. 253)” McCarthy gives voice to the deepest fear that fuels the immigration debate in the US. Fukunaga shows us the very plain world underneath the debate and the basic dignity of the people in that world who want something better.

After the film, I invited my friends to join us for asparagus, as I had bought too much anyway and was enjoying the company. They agreed, heading home to drop off their shopping bags and freshen up. I had intended to make hollandaise sauce to go with the asparagus, but my improvised double boiler (a large cooking pot of water with a Pyrex bowl on top) proved defective when the Pyrex bowl slipped into the pot, mixing the egg yolks with hot water. So, the melted butter that I had on hand for the sauce ended up being the only extra ingredient added to the asparagus and potatoes. Additionally, we had both cooked and air-cured ham and two bottles of lively chardonnay. The wild asparagus was larger than the blades of grass that I had in Alsace. I had purchased top-quality white asparagus at ca. EUR 9 per kilo and a similarly-priced bunch of green asparagus, larger than the wild sort, for the comparison. We agreed that the wild asparagus tasted the best. I really liked the flavor of the white asparagus, but the green was quite good, too. I can understand why some folks prefer the green variety. I may even stick to the wild variety in the future.

We sat around and chatted until after midnight, when our friends headed home on their bicycles. It only takes a few days like this one to make the year somehow seem memorable. Nothing, aside from the asparagus, was planned, and everything, except the hollandaise, turned out fantastic.