An Omelette that could feed a Third World Country

    This morning we went to the Farmer Boy restaurant. A friend of Entéra's gave us a two for one coupon for an omelette, and we saw "Chef's Surprise" listed - $12, more than the usual $9 omelette, but we thought, "What the heck, we're getting two for that price." Lo and behold, here's what arrived: two of these, including the "mini" cinnamon rolls instead of toast! They were only "mini" relative to the size of the omelette! (This is one photo you definitely want to click on - that's not a child's hand in the photo!) 

    Each one can feed four, easily. We barely made a dent in them, and then brought them home to have for supper tonight, and breakfast tomorrow. 

    What was inside? Spinach, cauliflower, ham, sausage, green peppers, brown beans, kidney beans, carrots, bacon, cheese (several kinds), onion, mushrooms, potato, ground beef, chunky tomato sauce...no kitchen sink, but the occasional bit of eggshell, just for extra calcium, of course... 

    We enjoyed learning the history of Santa Barbara in a really great little museum. Santa Barbara may have lived in the third century, but her story was told in the fifteenth: her father locked her up in a tower because she was too beautiful, and went away on business. The tower had two windows for her to look down on the town. She had a third window knocked out. When her father returned and asked why, she told him the three windows represented the Trinity, and she was a Christian. Her father insisted that she recant, but she refused, so he pulled his sword and chopped off her head, but he was immediately struck dead by a lightning bolt for doing that. Which served, thereafter, as fair warning to all fathers who might want to interfere with the desire of their youthful offspring to become Christians and join the Catholic Church...see how neatly that works? 

    We learned that the people of Santa Barbara call themselves "Santa Barbarians", especially during festivals. 

    I was impressed with the early teacher training in "Manual Arts and Home Economics", and the very significant Art & Crafts Movement that was strong here from 1870 until about 1930, an antidote to industrialization and mass production which blended very well with the more practical aims of the "manual arts" and explains some of the more odd aspects of the "shop" programs we've had in schools right up into the decades that I taught. I ignored anything that felt silly to me, and designed programs around what I thought would be truly useful to kids (machine tools, computer architecture, design work, control systems, etc), but many other shop teachers still had students making metal leaves and flowers, wooden vases, and so on. Some traditions linger long after their utility has faded.

    While thinking that over, I remembered that the tradition of folk dancing for children in schools originated with Henry Ford in the 1920's - he wanted to ensure that his workers and their children learned "wholesome" dances rather than passing on the degenerate dances he believed they'd learn on the streets in a vacuum of moral choreography. Now, I strongly believe in folk dancing in schools for a large handful of brain development and social development reasons, but the origin of the ones we still use is so amusing: Ford called them "old-fashioned" dances, even back then; he loved the square dance, but he wanted none of that new-fangled, decadent Charleston, Tango, the Shimmy, the Toddle, the Camel Walk, or God forbid, the "Black Bottom" - none of those negro-derived dances! A million school-marms followed in his footsteps and his dance-steps, quite precisely, over the succeeding decades. 

    I learned lots of horsey-stuff: that a "hackamore" (light rope bit bridle) evolved from the Spanish word "Jachima", and lariat comes from "la reata", a light long rope that served several purposes; I saw bits designed with a tongue spoon, a "cricket" and weight chains for balance; that "adobe" comes from "adobar" and is related to "dab" and "a dob of" in English. 

    I learned how the Spanish had a three-fold plan to use Pueblo (civilian town), Presidio (military garrison) and Mission (to convert and care for the indigenous population) to settle California, but after Mexican independence from Spain this plan fell apart and in a mere nineteen years until the U.S. took over California, the 21 missions, each a stage-coach ride from the next, were largely ruined.  The lands held in trust for the Indian population and intended to be ceded to them by the missions were sold off to private interests by corrupt politicians. 

    We studied a phenomenal painting, La Plaza de Toros: Sunday Morning in Monterey, by Charles Christian Nahl, which is copied and sold widely to this day.  

    The rest of the day was spent in the marine museum, then having a drink overlooking the harbour where a single boat slip in the marina can cost half a million, then shopping in gallery windows and consignment stores (thrift shops in very rich neighbourhoods are rather interesting), then in a small restaurant listening to an Irish pub singer with his two pretty daughters. It was a pleasant day.  I've added a few more photos: click here.

    Next stop, Ventura.