Puffing Lions

Apologies to those who have been intently reading or anticipating new installments of my most wondrous adventures in New Zealand but I have been some what busy working, exploring as much as I can as well as being completely immersed in a story I've been anticipating for over a year.  The book is called Inheritance concluding a story of Dragon-riders.  If you liked Harry Potter or have every been caught watching one of the films you will all but certainly enjoy this story.  Perhaps you're more familiar with Eragon and its sequels Eldest and Brisingr.  I may be childish in reading a book about dragons but there is a reason J.K. Rowling is a billionaire with her series about wizards and you're not; Chirstopher Paolini  with his "Inheritance Cycle" series is on his way to literary stardom if not already there and it turns out kids are not the ones that buy books.  

Anyway, I've been enjoying the ozone free sky around Auckland lathering myself in SPF70 constantly to avoid looking like a crocodile leather bag when and if I make it another 25 years.  The job is great at TriBeCa and I promise I will have pics of Chef Hayden's modern NZ fare soon.  I'm moving out of the house in Kohimarama and into the extra apartment of the Owner of TriBeCa.  If all goes to plan I will be there for a month before moving into the Chef's house in Orakei for the remainder of the summer.  About to purchase a new Subaru this week which this time has a five star alarm system on it to deter those pesky thieves in and around Auckland from taking my wheels this time around!  More details to come.

Other than that summer has just about hit full on Auckland as my hometown in Utah is hammered with snow before Thanksgiving.  On a side note to those in the ski community:  Condolences to those who knew and loved Jaime Pierre.  He was much more than a great skier who propelled the sport as Shane McConkey once did, may he ski the fluffy pillows of heaven rather than rest in peace.

Off to work early.  Friends from Queenstown just moved up to Auckland a few days ago so some surf, stunt and sun filled days are ahead of me. 

Sunset recently

Kelly Tarlton's

Check in soon!

TriBeCa & LaTeLy

To recap:  The previous three weeks were tinged with a glaze of discontent, garnished heavily with lack of appreciation for this country and served by the menacing backhand of bad luck.  How quickly things can change.  One of the best days followed by a sun-filled week came crashing down, alleviating all self inflicted stress from my frontal lobe, neck and shoulders. 

Firstly, I woke up to an email stating my previously stolen car had been claimed a total loss and I would be receiving compensation after weeks of miscommunication.  After that I proceeded via bus to watch an Avs game at a cafe in the center of Auckland.  I had placed my first legitimate bet on the Colorado boys and just after the final horn sounded and I more than doubled my money the awful little brick of a phone in my pocket started vibrating.  I squirmed about still giddy from the invigoration of winning a bet, fumbled the phone and didn't recognize the number, assuming it was a survey, insurance or someone not important enough for me to store their name in my phone.  (This I can assure is no one as anyone and everyone I have met in NZ willing to give or offer their number is locked into my phonebook).

I answered and on the other end of the line was an owner of TriBeCa Restaurant, Mark enquiring if I was keen to help out at his restaurant and if I could meet with him.  I said yes, hopped on a bus to Parnell and strolled into the restaurant to meet with him over a cup of coffee.  He is originally from Pennsylvania married to Pauline a native Kiwi and opened the doors to their renowned restaurant 17 years ago.  Twenty minutes later I was employed for a test drive the next day.  Been through a couple rounds there and am enjoying it so far as they are heavily loaded for lunch as the reservations taper off throughout the afternoon and evening until summer hits, then its supposed to be pretty full on. 

The front of the house staff is silver lined with Chef Hayden McMillan's modern New Zealand cuisine who at 26 is one of the most talented Chefs I have ever met.  Well studied and a master of his craft I can't believe what I've been able to taste over the course of the last few days.  He is currently shifting the menu for summer and his mind-blowing techniques make this restaurant a must for any epicure setting foot in the Auckland area.  His use of traditional cooking styles with liquid Nitrogen and clever new-age skills I'm has produced an amazing blend of flavors, textures and sight appeal that rival within the top 3 in New Zealand.  I  say this having recently experienced The Bazaar by Jose Andres at the SLS Hotel in Beverley Hills.  www.thebazaar.com  I will most certainly try and snap some photographs in the upcoming days and show you how cool these dishes are.  www.tribeca.co.nz

Other than that I recently played two games in one night having ridden to the rink with the captain of one team who was short a few players and had a blast finally.  We didn't win that game but it was chock-full of hits, goals and skating hard.  Second game I was with my original team and we won 4-2 on a hat trick from one of our very talented teammates.  I chipped it with an assist and some back checks stopping the other teams faster guys from coming in alone on our goalie.  My way of making up for my lack of skating skills, SPEED.  This sometimes advantageous attribute to my recent love for playing hockey busted me up a bit this week. Gotta love when as I came crashing into the boards with an opposing player my wrist hyper-extends against the glass and I feel the strain of the fleshy pieces wanting to give way.  Fortunately I was standing on a sheet of ice and during our intermission I simply took my glove off and rested my wrist on the ice for a couple minutes. 

Aside from Hockey and work I'm in the process of moving out of my current flat mainly because it's too expensive although there are some underlying issues as well.  The weather has turned around and the sun has come out.  In the next few weeks after I make some extra scratch I'm planning on booking some Scuba Diving lessons to become certified and a whole bunch of other stuff that I will certainly fill you in on as it comes into play. 

I promise I'll have some new pictures up soon.  I'm currently still grieving over the loss of my iPad which had so many on it and have been trying to figure out a way to stay in this country considering what you know of my previous posts.

Stay tuned...
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Nightmares, Dreams, Passion and Family

Disclaimer:  The following can be attributed to a dash of boredom mixed with three glasses of inspiration, a sore back from a crushing defeat, nostalgia and a passion for writing.  GMa, forgive me if there are more than frequent grammatical errors as I know you are a stickler for such eyesores. 

Part 1: Sport

Look at me.  Twenty five years of age and I have experienced a quarter of a century, obviously some years of which I cannot recall (the early years, not the experimental ones of which thank you I remember quite vividly) and I'm currently residing within a country I sometimes forget I'm actually in.    You may ask why and yet all I can describe to you is I have no answer.  However, I do know this installment of my thoughts and travels was ignited by a frustrating ice hockey game reminiscent of less than favorable moments involved in childhood endeavors with sport.  You're thinking, 'Get over it', its a game; but no dear friends and family, it is part of life.  There is a reason why I can almost tangibly pick out memories of failed attempts at "sport" in the very early years when victory meant nothing and fun was the world.  I use the word sport very liberally as it can be applied to most acts of gamesmanship or athleticism.  If you laugh at what I'm about to say then please laugh along side me or at me but do yourself the due diligence and recall within the privacy of your own head when this happened to you, because in one form or another it did.  Sucker! 

The first Easter I can remember which had no religious significance was in my early years in Florida.  Mom and I were walking to the the local park where an egg hunt was being held and at the end of the hunt from the faintest memory, a nightmare straight from Wes Craven consumed me and I found myself without eggs.  My single goal, the simplest of tasks was to retrieve an egg for whatever glorious reason and show my mom.  Not one single egg happened to find its hard-boiled, pastel colored little self in my basket.  One would surely think a single egg would have found its way into my chubby hand from the depths of the crab grass in Miami, but alas, none did.  The situation had gone awry as I looked up and saw a sea of happy little monsters quickly filling up their baskets with the loot.  Needless to say I was disheartened and devastated where from which all I can remember as retribution is that the so called "moms" of the neighborhood had started the egg hunt early for whatever sick and twisted reason unbeknown to me. 

It has happened to all of us.  At one stage or another in many different forms and time lines we have been cut down by the opposition, pulled from our self confidence, sunk into a wallowing pool of self doubt and  filled with resentment.  The hockey game this evening mimicked the same nasty grog of emotions.

Coming off a two goal game in which I scored both goals saving us from complete embarrassment in a 6-2 loss and having done so without our full roster I thought I would be golden to have another decent night.  I had warmed up, stretched, ate well and hydrated before the game in some half ass attempt to play better but all I found at the end of the match was an agitated and sweaty ride home from a gentleman who had picked me up and whom I thought was going to be on the other team. 

 I skated around firing warm up pucks at  our net minder, a french-Canadian who could certainly hold his own between the pipes.  We had our full roster plus a rock star of a player named Nick from New Jersey.  I played beside him last game and the way he was skating and shooting he most certainly should have had a hat trick.  Weirdly enough I was the one that buried the only two that night.  Unfortunately tonight the other team was short players and being the greenhorn on the team I was sent over with a few teammates to fill in the discrepancy.  I didn't mind being sent to the other team for a game but the problem was we joined a team comprised of a cop, a married couple and a few others along with myself and my line mates that had all been playing with less combined experience than a single protective cup on the other side.  

The "gentleman" who picked teams and whose ego could probably fill an Olympic size swimming pool was obviously taking this game to heart having kept all his former teammates and all the ringers on his side as well.  I piped up against the decision but to no avail being told 'It's just a game and its fair because of the jersey schemes'. The game was over before it even started and although I had one ample opportunity to score as well as two great passes we couldn't get on the board.  I think the score keeper at one point just put one up for us out of pity.  I was genuinely disgruntled to say the least being slaughtered by my own teammates and made my displeasure known with body language rather than chirping all night.  In a no-check league I was put in the box twice for open ice hits that probably could have been put onto a highlight reel worthy of NHL.com.    Having taken my frustrations out on the right guys in a physical manner I think they realized  that screwing with the inexperienced guys will at least cost their old bones a bit of bruising and some sore muscles in the morning.  The Little League Baseball Syndrome does not fly with me.

Parts 2 and 3 to come later this evening...