Ensuring Stories Are Heard.

About eight years ago, I was fortunate enough to travel to Burma in the cosseted comfort of Orient-Express's Road to Mandalay, http://www.orient-express.com/web/rtm/road_to_mandalay.jsp, a luxury river cruise through this forbidden land.

I was bewitched by the countryside and the people even in light of their great hardships.

You can read about it on my travel website, http://wanderwomanonline.com/pdfs/Burma.pdf.

The Oscar-nominated documentary Burma VJ, is equally affecting. It profiles the courage of reporters in the face of a repressive military regime and media censorship.

One haunting line, "Our stories are silent," reminds us of the importance of journalism. And the enduring value of telling stories.

Check it out at: http://www.netflix.com/WiMovie/Burma_VJ/70113931?strackid=6bac1e6a984658c8_0_srl&strkid=907621913_0_0&trkid=438381.

Tasting the Soil.

First, a confession: I am a gin lover. I like tasting the notes of juniper or pepper or cucumber in my liquor.

Vodka, in my experience is odorless, and, by extension, largely tasteless. This is because most vodka is filtered so many times--a process made necessary because cheap, inferior raw materials, mostly grain and corn are used in its production.

Filtering strips the spirit of any of its charateristics, its origins. And no matter how pretty the label or how hip the spokesperson, it's not a satisfying drinking experience.

It wasn't always so.

Vodka was orginally made from potatoes. Potatoes that smelled of the earth, that tasted of the soil where they grew.

I recently had the pleasure of tasting Karlsson's Gold, a hand-crafted vodka made of 100%virgin new potatoes. Its creator previously launched Absolut. Now it's trying to take on the marketing behemoth.

You can read all about this upstart vodka at http://www.karlssonsvodka.com. But I suggest you plunk down $30 and try it for yourself.

I've served it twice to vodka lovers, who raved about its terroir , asking for second and third refills--without lime, easy on the rocks. They inhaled deeply before sipping.

While it may not appeal to the mass market, I suspect Karlsson's will find a clientele of discerning drinkers.

Though it hasn't supplanted my beloved gin, it has changed my mind--for the better--about a category I previously dismissed.

It Reads Like a Thriller.

It's been repeatedly said that fact is stranger than fiction. And that one person can make a difference.

In the case of Henrietta Lacks, both saws are true.

And the reality makes for absolutely riveting reading in Rebecca Skloot's nonfiction page turner, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, the story of an African-American woman whose cells provided the basis of many modern medical advances and sparked a debate on ethics.

I've just started reading it and I can't put it down.

http://www.amazon.com/Immortal-Life-Henrietta-Lacks/dp/1400052173/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1277245654&sr=8-1

Summer Staple: Smoked Olive Oil.

Summer is steamy here in the south. And extreme heat diminshes my appetite.

That's where smoked olive oil comes in.

Properly crusty bread dipped into this marvelous oil--there are three versions, my favorite is the Sonoma, with its bold smokiness--along with a glass of crisp white wine makes dinner. Also yummy brushed on grilled peaches.

And that's just for starters.

Visit www.thesmokedolive.com to order and donwload recipes.

Great Web Design is Only Half the Story.

I like pretty, shiny things. Always have, always will.

But not at the expense of functionality.

That's why I tell clients and prospects to beware: sub-par copy on a razzle-dazzle website will backfire. The two elements must work in tandem to succeed.

My friend and talented web designer Dale Dixon, of Gyrony Consultive, shared this article by a designer who makes a case for the importance of copywriting:
http://designshack.co.uk/articles/business-articles/the-importance-of-copywriting-in-web-design#comment-6938.

Do the Charleston Chew.

I'm just back from Charleston, a town with an accomplished, tight-knit culinary community. And far too many fine restaurants to cover in a four-day trip.

Though the thermostat was pushing 100 degrees, I tucked into summer's bounty on every plate: butter beans, sweet corn, tomatoes, cantaloupe and peaches.

I had terrific meals at Fish, O-Ku, Amen Street, Dixie Supply Bakery & Cafe, Oak Steakhouse and Caviar & Bananas, but my favorite meal was on John's Island at The Fat Hen, where Chef Fred Neuville coaxes the best out of seasonal produce and local seafood.

His oysters sauteed with country ham and wild mushrooms served over grilled bread are, in a word, life-affirming.

http://www.thefathen.com/.

Lifting the Tortilla Curtain.

I believe books have a "time," or perhaps we have a time to read books.

In light of Arizona's recent anti-immigration legislation, I picked up a copy of T.C. Boyle's The Tortilla Curtain.

It's a book I've tried to read on more than one occasion. Now, I can't put it down. It has as much--if not more--resonance--than when it was written in 1995.

The story is immediately absorbing and the writing itself is dynamic:

The man was Mexican, Hispanic, that's what he was, and he was speaking Spanish, a hot crazed drumroll of a language to which Delaney's four years of high-school French gave him little access.