Books #55 and #56: Akhil Amar, America’s Constitution: A Biography and Gerald Durrell, A Zoo In My Luggage

I don’t have much to say about Durrell’s “A Zoo in My Luggage”, other than to note that it was good fun and relaxing Thanksgiving weekend reading. Basically, a “snack book”: readable in an afternoon while it’s raining out.

Much of my reading time lately has been devoted to Akhil Reed Amar’s “America’s Constitution : A Biography”, an amazing work which analyzes the Constitution and amendments section-by-section, discussing the historical origins, political arguments surrounding, and subsequent change in each provision and rule. Unlike most treatises on American constitutional law, Amar’s book focuses little attention on Supreme Court decisions or the arguments of legal theorists, instead focusing on the text and events surrounding it. To some extent, this makes the outlook “textualist,” but this does not equate necessarily to “originalist” or other modern argumentative stance.

Amar’s conclusions are perhaps a bit unorthodox but are well supported by his historical analysis. Amar portrays the Founder’s constitution (i.e., the Philadelphia text plus the first twelve amendments) as more democratic and populist than usually described, but also more intentionally accomodating of slavery than we’d like to admit in retrospect. Some of Amar’s foci in the book are fairly unique: the first chapter spends 50+ pages on the Preamble, which is rarely remarked upon today in either court cases or by scholars. Amar notes that while we tend to view the Preamble today in much the same was as a book’s introduction, or worse, a publisher’s jacket blurb, the Founding generation tended to treat the Preamble as a substantive part of the document. The Marshall Court draws upon the Preamble in Marbury, Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee, and McCullough, all cornerstone cases in American constitutional law. Amar’s reading of the Preamble (and Article VII) is that the “Philadelphia” Constitution begins and ends with expressions of democracy and popular sovereignty, centering sovereign power in the “people” rather than the government itself and creating the rules for “ordaining and establishing” self-government. This is, in many ways, the most stirring contribution Amar makes in the book, but it’s certainly not the only one.

His non-economic reading of the Commerce Clause deserves discussion among scholars, providing as it does an antidote to the current narrow discussions which seem to revolve around specific conceptions of economic activity. And his discussion of the Article III courts and their relative roles through time definitely points to a more complex picture surrounding the question of judicial review than many would like to admit.

In summary, Amar’s book stimulates a great deal of rethinking and is well worth reading for anyone interested in getting beyond the current stereotypical arguments between “liberal” and “conservative” views of constitutional law. Our development as a people and nation is far richer than those categories and our current disputes are capable of encompassing, and it’s important to remember that.

Chave Hermitage 1994 and home-made pizza

I had a pretty good day today, and am getting close on my job hunt. By next week I’ll have something to talk about publicly. So I’m having a bottle of Hermitage to celebrate, and making home-made pizza again. Very little cheese, to keep the fat content low, and a good home-made pizza sauce made from simmered chopped tomatoes and garlic, very simple. Tonight’s fare is red onion, red bell pepper, kalamata olive, and oregano, with a mix of low-fat mozzarella and parmesan sprinkled very lightly, with pepperoni only on half.

The wine is Chave’s 1994 Hermitage, which I just opened and needs a bit of time to breathe. Even just after opening, though, it’s sweetly spicy (not sugar sweet but rather, in the form of sweet spices), on top of the black fruit and signature high-toned tart finish. After a bit of air time, it’s pretty clear that the 1994 is good but not profound. 1994 was a tough vintage in the northern Rhone, with rain in September that ruined harvest for many producers. Chave’s Hermitage is sweet on the palate with good body but at 11 years old, is fairly light and lacking in the depth that one sees in the better vintages. My guess is that early drinking is fine with this wine, although there’s nothing about the 1994 that suggests that it won’t age gracefully for awhile longer.

Vieux Telegraphe 1998 and other recent wines

The Vieux Telegraphe 1998 is nowhere near ready, but I’m moving from one cellar space to another, and during the tedious process of inventory I discovered I had an odd number of bottles, so naturally I decided that it was time to check on it. The wine is still brooding and dark, showing little depth the night we opened it but a lot of tannin and some dark juicy fruit. The next evening it was showing the dark leathery rubber core one expects from a “good” year VT as it begins to mature, but without any of the bright red high-toned fruit one also expects. Only on the second evening after opening did the “red” fruit notes come out in the nose, in the form of syrupy cherries from the Grenache, but still with plenty of dark closed potential that just plain needs more time. The wine is going to be phenomenal when more mature, and I’m very very glad I continue to buy and stock Vieux Telegraphe in my cellar, year in and year out. I’ve tried every vintage (except 1987) since 1978, and haven’t been disappointed. Even the “lighter” years like 1984 have been interesting, and although the 1982 and 1984 fade very quickly after opening these days, the 1988 is still giving a lot of pleasure compared to the dark, closed 1989.

I just tried a half bottle of 2001 Tempier “classique” (or “regular”), found while moving cellar spaces. The wine is deep purple-black, as expected, but mellowing a bit from the vibrant tart raciness that characterizes this wine just after bottling (the Tempier regulars in general, I mean). There are hints of tree bark earthiness starting to show, but not much in the way of leather or rubber yet. Still, the tannins are silky and not obtrusive, and it’s very pleasant to drink.

While moving, I discovered a cache of the 1995 Charbonniere Chateauneuf, a Kermit Lynch wine that was very reasonable (low 20’s) back in the 1997-time frame when I bought it. I never really considered it part of my “core” set of Chateauneufs to age, so I was pleasantly surprised to find a couple of bottles. Opening one tonight as I simmer a pasta sauce, I find it reminds me of Les Cailloux: kirsch-like cherry fruit, with salty herbal aromas and a beef au-jus note on the palate. Surprisingly good, actually. Not quite mature, but I’m not sure what I think about aging it longer, since I have no experience with older examples of this wine (except for one, a long time ago, which was dried out and not at its best). But the other three bottles aren’t destined to last much longer anyhow, since this is tasty now!

More bread-making experiments

Over the course of the week I tried a "natural leavening" process to essentially make a starter, and myDsc00739 flour mixture definitely did leaven naturally from the yeasts in my kitchen, but I have to say I wasn’t impressed by the aromas — too dark and not sweetly tart enough.  So I scrapped that for this week. Perhaps I need to tweak my airborne yeasts a bit more…

Today, however, I made a large pain Pugilese-style loaf based on a sponge I made last night and allowed to pre-ferment in the refrigerator (i.e., slowing down the yeasts).  Here’s the loaf after it came out of the oven and before the tortuous 45-minute cool-down. 

Fresh bread and terrific pizza

OK.  Yes, I should be writing more, especially since I’m taking time off after Network Clarity.  But in addition to a really irritating case of writer’s block about my usual topics, I’ve been getting outdoors asDsc00733 much as possible and also cooking a lot more.  The latter is due to a combination of wanting to make healthier meals more "from scratch," at least while I’m less busy, and from watching too much Alton Brown.

Last week’s fun item was pizza dough.  I resurrected my pizza stone and peel from the basement, and made a couple of batches of dough, fairly successfully.  Last Friday my brother, and our friends Ian and Beth, came over and we made pizzas, with homemade sauce, a couple of batches of my dough, some fresh herbs, olives, and good pepperoni.  The crust was light but chewy, but not quite thin enough for my tastes, although the thickness did help it stand up to reheating the next day.

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Today I made bread, mostly because I’d read some of "Brother Junipers Bread Book: Slow Rise As Method and Metaphor" while it was raining so hard yesterday, and partially because I still had the stone in the oven and the kitchen hadn’t been cleaned yet.  Oh, and I’d been given a baguette tray for a housewarming gift long ago…

I’m not sure how good the bread is yet, but the house sure smells amazing.  I need to let the loaves cool for a half hour to allow the gluten network to set up, so the bread structure doesn’t collapse when it’s sliced.  But they look pretty decent, if a bit lumpy, and I’m hoping they taste good too…

Book #54: The Long Emergency, by James Howard Kunstler

Kunstler’s recent book on the post-petroleum world, “The Long Emergency: Surviving the End of the Oil Age, Climate Change, and Other Converging Catastrophes of the Twenty-first Century”, is written in the same critical mold as his earlier classic, Geography of Nowhere, and is well worth reading. Little Kunstler says is unique — you can read Paul Roberts’s “The End of Oil : On the Edge of a Perilous New World” or half a dozen other books for the basic outlines of “peak oil” theory and the likely course of oil depletion in the twenty-first century. What makes Kunstler’s book unique and well worth reading is the connection to his earlier analysis of American land-use history.

Kunstler points out that a larger proportion of America lives in suburban landscapes than do European nations, which often still have vibrant city cores and strong communities of small farmers. As a consequence, America is far more reliant on long-distance transport for both food and our corporate economy than most other nations. Thus, our economy may be more susceptible to disruptions which arise from fuel cost increases than European countries, or for that matter developing nations which have lower per-capita oil consumption.

Much of the second half of Kunstler’s book discusses the likely consequences of passing the oil peak. He’s relatively pessimistic about alternative energy sources, and I believe quite rightly so. Most alternate energy sources still require large inputs of petrochemicals to manufacture their infrastructure, so it’s unclear what the true net output rates from such sources are. His basic conclusions I tend to agree with: (a) society will become much more locally and regionally focused, as the cost of transport rises due to fuel price increases and oil scarcity, (b) the economy will necessarily de-globalize to some extent, given the impossibility of maintaining 12,000 mile supply chains for consumer goods and delivering low prices. These conclusions are fairly incontrovertible to my mind, barring “miracle” finds of additional easily extractible oil or an alternative energy source usable for internal combustion engines with a good ratio of energy output to input.

What is more speculative, and far less certain, are the social consequences Kunstler forsees. Economic effects are relatively predictable given the pricing and cost structure of our current economy, if one looks at oil hitting ever-higher barrel prices. How societies will respond is something none of us really knows, though social unrest, the unraveling of fragile multi-ethnic nationalities, and potentially repressive responses by governments are certainly something we’ve seen historically in analogous circumstances. The book and the topic — our energy future — deserve more discussion among progressives than it’s getting. In America today, energy is largely a Republican issue in the political arena, and that’s too bad. For it is progressives that need to understand how we will fight to stop repressive responses should the “Long Emergency” come true in some form or another.