local-ties

Pentagon notifying troops named by alleged IS hackers

WASHINGTON (AP) — The Pentagon says it is notifying 100 U.S. military members that their names and addresses were posted on the Internet by a group calling itself the Islamic State Hacking Division.

The group said it was posting the information to encourage Muslims in the United States to kill the military members.

A Pentagon spokesman, Col. Steve Warren, said Monday there is no indication that…

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I was fortunate enough to receive a wonderful surprise in early January. My good friend Eric MacDonald, professor at the UGA College of Environment & Design, brought two crates of quince from Dumbarton Oaks in Washington, DC to The National. You may be surprised by this, as I was too! This is the only agricultural product I’ve ever heard of being grown in the District of Columbia.

Quince is a fruit that looks like a large apple or pear with a beautiful perfume. Eaten raw, quince are terribly sour and hard. However, they contain a remarkable amount of pectin making them perfectly suited for jams and jellies. You’re likely only familiar with this exotic fruit in the form of quince membrillo, the Spanish red jam often accompanying a cheese course.

We used our haul of quince to make our own membrillo. I’m looking forward to enjoying it over the next several months–on cheese plates, in a jus served alongside our local quail, and in our new cocktail called The Quincy. The Quincy is made with Bulleit Bourbon, Luxardo Amaretto, our Dumbarton Oaks quince jam, Angostura bitters and a squeeze of lemon. This tasty drink harkens to classic cocktails, showcasing a nice range of sweet and bitter notes.

By the way, if Dumbarton Oaks sounds familiar to you, the house was the site of the Dumbarton Oaks Conference in 1944 that laid the groundwork for the United Nations. This is some pretty historic quince I’d say!

photos courtesy of our good friends Catie Adams and Emily Hall

E ora con te non devo recitare, tu sei uguale a me stesso handicap sociale e io ti amo perché ti ho incontrato a notte fonda in un locale poi ti ho detto subito senza pensare I LOVE YOU BABY!
—  Due di picche

C'è una cosa che mi ha sempre fatto paura: ricominciare, dopo che il filo si è spezzato. Ogni volta ho paura che qualsiasi cosa farò non basti. È una sorta di prevenzione: io so già che per quanta cura ci metterò e per quanti nodi dovrò fare per far riavvicinare i due lembi, sarò sempre lì a temere che il laccio si sciolga di nuovo. Dovrò fare attenzione a non strattonarlo, a tenerlo morbido. E allora mi dico che non ha nemmeno senso provarci, se non sarà la stessa cosa e dovrò metterci il triplo dell'attenzione, senza ovviamente la certezza delle mie aspettative.
A questo punto del film un regista metterebbe un bivio: o ritorna tutto come prima, se la fisica ha mai detto che qualche trasformazione è reversibile, o te ne resti da solo, seduto al tavolo del locale in cui lei ti ha dato appuntamento, o a mettere via le candele dalla torta in una festa a sorpresa per un amico che non verrà. Le variabili sono tante, ma credimi, per quanto tu abbia studiato tutto nei dettagli per conquistarti almeno un briciolo di riuscita, in questi casi l'unica cosa che puoi fare è rimetterti sui tuoi passi. È questo che ci fa paura. Ammettere che dovremo fare la strada da soli, di notte e senza un passaggio su cui contare. L'alternativa è restare. Ma non si aspetta per l'eternità. È quello che si fa davanti alle parole del traditore che ti promette non ti tradirà più, dell'alcolista che non berrà più. C'è un limite oltre il quale la seconda possibilità che diamo alle persone si snatura. E non lo facciamo per egoismo di non voler riprovare, ma perché ce lo dice prima la testa, e poi il cuore stanco a furia di sopportare.
La probabilità di rimanerci male, sulla scala delle probabilità, resta comunque una certezza assoluta. Allora elabori stratagemmi per evitarlo. Come pensare che tutte le persone che perdi per noncuranza, disattenzione o scelta, siano amici immaginari, fatine dei denti, porta fortuna che ti fanno credere di poter superare gli ostacoli, persone che ti aiutano a capire il mondo, anche se più deboli di te, anche se sei tu a doverglielo spiegare il mondo. Ti fanno tirare fuori quello che sei. Ma poi ti abbandonano, e nell'abbandono ti invitano ad una sfida.

Georgia Olives
Our friend Kevin Shaw at Georgia Olive Farms in Lakeland (near Valdosta) has reported to me the first commercial olive harvest in Georgia since the mid 1800’s. I can’t wait for a taste. Supplies will be limited at first, the goal is to produce high quality extra virgin olive oil right here in Georgia.

Have you noticed the vibrant flower arrangements brightening our tables? This decorative flora is grown right at Fertile Crescent Farm in Madison County and delivered fresh cut to our door. Stop by the Athens Farmers Market to pick up a bouquet for your home, instantly ready for display in charming mason jars

Scarbolo Wine Dinner at The National
Wednesday, March 16, 6:30 pm
$55 per person plus tax and gratuity

Our favorite Friulian winemaker, Valter Scarbolo,
is back for a special wine dinner at The National.
(If you’re into numbers, all four of these wines just
scored over 90 points from Parker)


1. fresh Sweetgrass Dairy goat cheese, local baby lettuces,
carrots, radishes and pecans, spring pea jus
pinot grigio, Scarbolo, ‘Ramato XL’, Friuli, Italy, 2008

2. grilled Florida rock shrimp, fennel-eggplant tagine, saffron couscous
bianco, Scarbolo, ‘My Time’, Friuli, Italy, 2007

3. veal hanger steak, mushroom-spanakopita, pancetta
merlot, Scarbolo, ‘Campo del Viotto’, Friuli, Italy, 2007

4. skewered lamb kefte and rib barbeque, fava hummus, fenugreek
refosco, Scarbolo, Friuli, Italy, 2006

5. pistachio-shortbread cookie, snow cap cookie sandwich
with blood orange-buttercream
housemade tangerine-cello


reservations: 706-549-3450 or thenationalrestaurant@gmail.com

Dico il cazzo che mi pare, io ti sfascio il tuo locale
ti insulto così tanto che ti faccio suicidare.
—  il figlio del diavolo

She was an actress and a dancer, a perfect build and careful lines. I worked the scene to my advantage, blackmailed her into being mine.

And late in life I left the family. Too old to be considered brave, too young to make a good decision; so frozen in my tracks I stay.

And in my dreams I saw the future. As clear as master locks and chains that tied the locals to the podiums as they would scream “we think you’ve changed, we know you’ve changed.”

And late in life I left the family. Too old to be considered brave, too young to make a good decision; so frozen in my tracks I stay.

Just as soon as I met her and I knew that it was over, she was running out the backdoor and I was running out the side. You know I gotta wonder lord, if ever I would see her. Maybe when we’re older or maybe when we die

And late in life I left the family. Too old to be considered brave, too young to make a good decision; so frozen in my tracks I stay.

Research Blog 5: Te Tuhi Creative Suite

The Creative Suite was a small exhibition at a local art gallery, Ti Tuhi. The rooms had TV’s that played loops of videos made up from different media such as iPhones, scanners, photocopiers, pirated content, PowerPoint and other software programmes. This was a bit of a strange exhibit, i havnt been to an exhibition that consisted of just TV’s but it was an interesting experience.

Another part of the gallery was in a dark room that had two big walls in the middle that projectors projected a transcript from a police interrogation that used words, colour and sound. I felt this room was very intimidating and eerie and found it difficult to watch because the sounds and the way the words were quickly shown on screen gave me a sense of uncertainty of what would happen or how the words were meant to be perceived.

references: http://www.tetuhi.org.nz/exhibitions/exhibitiondetails.php?id=153

http://www.tetuhi.org.nz/exhibitions/exhibitiondetails.php?id=152

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Eating locally is all about knowing whose hands produced the food on your plate. On Monday, we took a trip out to Darby Farms in Monroe to meet the man who raises chickens for The National, Dan Dover.

Dan focuses on quality over quantity on his small organic farm where he raises chickens for both meat and egg production, as well as his latest addition – three pigs! Showing us around the whole operation, Dan explained the importance of working within nature’s framework instead of against it. From holding a warm, just-laid egg to touching toes with Georgia clay-coated pigs to watching Dan’s daughter Darby (the farm’s youthful namesake) horse around with the animals she knows so well, we left Darby Farms with a feeling of real connection to one of The National’s local vendors and a tinge of regret upon departing for our regular lives.

Look out for Darby Farms chicken on our menu. Grilled D.F. chicken breast and late night D.F. chicken wings in JC’s wing sauce are regular favorites!