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A stirring drama about how little we know the ones we love

Julieta (Emma Suárez: Hazing) is preparing to move to Portugal with her boyfriend when a blast from her past detonates her plans. Julieta runs into Bea (Michelle Jenner: We Need to Talk), her daughter Antía’s (Blanca Parés: Pasión Criminal) former best friend. Bea mentions running into Antía and her children while on vacation.
    The news is devastating to Julieta, who reported Antía missing 12 years ago.
    Julieta falls into obsession trying to work out why her daughter would abandon her with no explanation. As Julieta gets closer to madness, she chronicles the story of her relationship with Antía, searching for clues as to what went wrong. She begins a letter, detailing her past, hoping one day it will heal their rift.
    Based on a collection of short stories by Alice Munro, Julieta is a moody, fascinating drama from Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar (I’m So Excited!). Almodóvar specializes in telling women’s stories in movies about women, with predominantly female casts. Julieta is no exception, and Almodóvar takes pains to explore the ways that women relate and care for each other. He spends a lot of the movie exploring themes like grief, shock and love.
    Almodóvar also brings his signature style to the film. Color palates are vivid and camera work elegant. An Almodóvar film is an exploration of artistic film as a medium, each shot composed like a painting.
    Jumping through time allows multiple actresses to play each role. Performances blend seamlessly, creating a story chronicling the evolution of four relationships. As middle-aged Julieta, Suárez is stunning. Her Julieta is a broken woman who pieced her life together after Antía’s disappearance, only to have it disassembled. As young Julieta, Adriana Ugarte (Palm Trees in the Snow) offers a beautiful performance of a woman who can’t quite cope with life after a trauma. The two actresses work together to create a single fluid portrait of a woman battered by life.
    You’ll find a few flaws. The overlying mystery raises more questions than it answers, and Almodóvar never fully delves into the mother-daughter relationship at the center of the film. It’s one of the rare films that may have benefited from an extra half hour. Still, Julieta is well worth the trip to D.C. or Baltimore for a screening.
    A mystery film about how well you know the ones you love, Julieta is a beautiful study on the natures of female relationships.

Good Drama • R • 96 mins. • with subtitles

Cleaner air may be leaving your plants hungry

Billions of dollars have been spent making the air we breathe cleaner. We may be breathing better, but soil tests indicate that gardeners and farmers will have to add sulfur (S) to the list of nutrients that need to be added as a fertilizer.
    One of the major components in polluted air was sulfur dioxide. That airborne sulfur dioxide provided a continuous source of sulfur for good plant growth. We can also blame some of the sulfur deficiencies to the more highly purified fertilizers being applied. Older fertilizers contained sulfur as a contaminant. Now, few high-analysis fertilizers and water-soluble fertilizers contain sulfur. However, low-analysis fertilizers such as 5-10-10 or 10-10-10 are still often blended from nutrient sources contaminated with sulfates.
    In plants, sulfur is very important in the synthesis of amino acids and proteins. Researchers found that the addition of sulfur to deficient soil increased the yield of seed crops such as corn and soybeans by 10 to 20 percent. The addition of sulfur was also beneficial to the growth of cold crops such as cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower. In reviewing soil test results, I have also noticed that sulfur levels in Southern Maryland are dropping.
    If soil test results indicate deficient or low levels of sulfur, it can be applied in various forms: pulverized, wettable, flowable, granulated and iron sulfate. Choose from other forms as your soil test indicates.
    Should your soil need phosphorus, purchase only single-strength super phosphate.
    If your plants need nitrogen, purchase ammonium sulfate.
    If the soil is in need of potassium, purchase potassium sulfate.
    If your soil needs calcium, purchase calcium sulfate.
    If the soil is in need of magnesium, purchase Epsom salts.
    Compost made from organic waste harvested from areas low in sulfur will also be low in sulfur. However, compost made from seafood waste or biosolids will be rich in sulfur. The nutrients in compost are totally dependent on nutrients in the feedstock being composted.
    You do not want to add sulfur if you are growing onions and garlic, as it will increase their sharpness in flavor. To grow mild onions, select a soil that contains nearly deficient levels of sulfur. Vidalia onions — grown only in Vidalia County, Georgia — are mild because their soils contain very low levels of sulfur.


Ask The Bay Gardener your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

Chesapeake oysters and rockfish

The way to anyone’s heart on Valentine’s Day is through their stomach. That means seafood in our neck of the woods.
    The recreational season for rockfish is closed, but the commercial season is in full swing. Caught in the cold winter waters of the Chesapeake, these stripers will be extra fresh and tasty. Purchase one generous fillet for each guest. The flesh should be firm, never slimy, and have a pleasing smell with a slight sweet edge.
    My favorite appetizers are oysters, well chilled and on the half-shell. A dozen oysters will do for two people.
    Rinse the oysters well and scrub them with a stiff brush; otherwise some of the grit may get transferred onto the meat. Opening an oyster is easier than it looks, and you don’t need specialized equipment. I often use just a flathead screwdriver and a stout glove for my left hand as I am a righty. With a gloved hand, hold the oyster firmly against a wooden or similar non-slip surface with the domed side down and insert the screwdriver or oyster-shucking knife. Dig it into the hinge and give it a good firm twist until the muscles that hold it closed are separated.
    Next insert a slim, sharp blade or the oyster knife between the two shells. First, angle the blade up against the flatter side of the oyster to cut through the muscle holding the meat to that part of the shell. Then remove the top shell and do the same to the lower half. Be careful not to spill any of the oyster liquor. Carefully place the half-shell on a plate covered in crushed ice.
    Inspect the oyster for bits of shell or debris and carefully pick out any you find. Never rinse an opened oyster, as this washes away the flavor. Put a half-dozen on a plate and cover with plastic wrap if you’re not serving them immediately. Lemon and Tabasco are my favorite condiments, though many like a simple horseradish or cocktail sauce.
    Rockfish can be quickly and reliably rendered with a type of pan broil. Preheat the oven to 275 degrees. Slather the fish in olive oil and sprinkle generously with salt and ground pepper. Place the fillets in a hot, heavy skillet — cast iron is ideal — and quickly brown on one side. Then turn, adding more oil if necessary. After about a minute transfer the pan to the oven for about 15 minutes. The fillets are done when they flake firmly.
    Just before serving, anoint the fillets with melted lemon butter; then dust with paprika and chopped fresh dill. Large steamed carrots served in four to five inch sections are especially good this time of year. Cooking them in large pieces preserves just an extra bit of the sweet, earthy flavor.
    Yukon gold or red-skinned potatoes diced, steamed until they’ve just become tender (about 10 minutes) and sprinkled with parsley are also an excellent side dish, as is steamed, fresh spinach, drained well and anointed with a bit of mustard vinaigrette.
    For desert, try my quick Cherries Jubilee recipe that has pleased friends and family over the years. Place shallow bowls with generous ice cream servings in the freezer before dinner to make things quicker. After everyone has eaten and the plates have been cleared, open a can of cherry pie filling. You may want to conceal the can to maintain a bit of mystery.
    In a shallow saucepan, melt two tablespoons of butter; add most of the pie filling. Gently stir until combined, then add in the contents of a mini bottle of cognac or brandy (one and a half ounces) and mix again. Serve the bowls of ice cream, then pour more of the liquor over the cherries and carefully light on fire. Pause for effect before ladling out the still burning mixture over each ice cream. Bon appetite!

When a duckling lost its way, Patsy Wills rescued it and became its ­protector, surrogate and friend

Spring is just around the corner. Soon you’ll see wild mallard mamas marching their downy hatchlings to our Chesapeake waterways.
    The spring one of those countless ducklings lost its way, Patsy Wills of Owings Beach first rescued it from a tight spot, then became its surrogate mother.
    After freeing the tiny creature, Wills, now 63, carried her to the beach and searched for the duckling’s family. But Mama and her brood had moved on. “I took a different approach,” Wills said. “I tried introducing the duckling into another family. No luck.”
    Which gave the nature-loving Wills a new role.
    Up went a predator-safe shelter in her back yard, and in went Duck. The duckling took to her new home and to Wills.
    Duck was hatched in the wild. The first thing she saw was a mallard. Thus, through a process known as filial imprinting, Duck imprinted upon its mallard mother and acquired and kept some of her behavioral characteristics. Duck behaved like a duck, but she accepted Wills as protector, surrogate and friend.
    Thus Duck grew up lucky. She feasted on poultry pellets and earthworms. The sight of Wills picking up a garden fork sent Duck into a frenzy of joy. Duck walked with Wills in the yard or on the beach, stubby wings flapping. Snoozed on the porch. Paddled around the filtered pond installed just for her.
    Wills bought a new plastic kayak, and she and Duck paddled around the edge of the Bay near the mouth of Rockhold Creek. As Wills propelled the kayak, she dangled one foot in the water, so Duck could surf the ripples atop her toes, then hop aboard.
    As Duck grew, her feathers came in. On one walk, Duck’s usual wing flapping lifted her off the ground. She flew through the air for 20 yards, then landed at the edge of the Bay.
    Duck seemed surprised, as well as pleased. She turned to look at Wills, as if to ask, Did you see that?
    From that day on, Duck spent less time in the yard. She came and went as she pleased. Then, in her second spring, she brought home a drake.
    Wills didn’t care for him. He took Duck’s food.
    A second drake seemed immature, simply following Duck around the yard.
    At last, Duck came home with a keeper. This guy was friendly. Mama approved. The pair mated and Duck laid a clutch of 13 eggs.
    After that season, Duck appeared less often. Wills knew she’d done her job well; she’d raised her Duck to self-sufficiency.
    But for many years, she says,
“whenever I stepped outside, I carried poultry pellets just in case.”
    As for Wills, life has gone on. She’s now married to a man she met at a local dance and has changed her surname to Watkins. But she still regales friends with tales about the duck she raised till love did them part.

If winter comes, can spring be far behind

It’s hard to get excited about Groundhog Day.    
    February 2 is a huge turning in our calendar of hope. As winter’s midpoint, it is the mark in time when poet Percy Shelley’s line — if winter comes, can spring be far behind — sparks a bit of optimism. But hope dressed up in a groundhog suit? Surely we could do better.
    We do, on Valentine’s Day.
    The holiday we name for a second-century marriage celebrant is far more heart-warming. By Groundhog Day-plus-12, nature is putting her force behind the promise of renewal. Look around, and you’ll see better prognosticators than the visible or invisible — I can never remember which — shadow of Punxsutawney Phil.
    Squirrels, for one. They’re chasing one another from tree to tree in acrobatic pursuit, suddenly as interested in frolic as in nuts.
    Not to be outdone, birds are beginning their spring song in prelude to courtship.
    This was Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate, wrote another poet, Geoffrey Chaucer.
    Did Chaucer hurry the season a bit? The climate and species of 14th century are not those of Chesapeake Country, but it’s hard to say what is seasonal nowadays. The birds, however, seem to know. At the top of Chesapeake Country pecking order, bald eagles have already mated to give their slower-growing chicks time to mature before next winter. Another favorite species, blue herons, traditionally return to their rookeries on Valentine’s Day to begin their new generation. Osprey will return in another month to get busy on their seasonal business.
    At my feeder, songbirds are going about life with new interest, as if winter might really be gone and not only hiding.
    It’s getting to be pretty lively out there.
    By Valentine’s Day, the vegetable kingdom is also pushing into a new season. This moderate year, daffodil and hyacinth leaves are well risen. Looking down, I’ve seen some five inches high. Looking up, I read the seasonal clock of the maple tree that always bursts into hairy bloom just about now.
    We humans have insulated ourselves from the seasons. We need not be cold in winter or hot in summer. More than any other generation on earth, we have detached our survival from nature. Far more of us work in offices than on the land, and we depend on sources of power produced far from where we use them. But our seasonal clocks keep ticking, and we feel something stirring.
    Is it warmth? Is it longing?
    Could it be the force capitalized on by the Valentine’s Day industry, with cards and chocolates, flowers, fancy dinners and diamonds?
    Could it be why so many people have birthdays around October 22, nine months and one week after Valentine’s Day?
    The human creative force has, of course, more outlets of expression. You could write a love letter, as Samuel Barr did 200 years ago, chronicled in this week’s edition. Or a book, as romance novelist Laura Kaye is doing. You could start a new restaurant, as Bobby and Julia Jones are doing. You could envision a new career, maybe in marine trades. Reading those stories in this week’s paper may urge you to your own creations.
    Or you could simply salute the rising season with a Valentine’s card.
    Our Valentine to you here and on this week’s cover comes from Bay Weekly’s Miss Cora Smith collection of early 20th century Valentines.

Sandra Olivetti Martin
Editor and publisher
email editor@bayweekly.com, www.sandraolivettimartin.com

One dog lives several lives in the year’s most emotionally manipulative movie

Bailey (Josh Gad: The Angry Birds Movie) is born a stray in a back alley. He’s caught, taken to the pound and euthanized. So begins the first of many lives of Bailey the dog.
    His second time around, Bailey is luckier. He finds a boy, Ethan, (Bryce Gheisar: Walk the Prank) and lives a happy and wholesome life as his boy’s best friend. But eventually, Ethan moves away and Bailey gets old. When it’s time for Bailey to yet again shuck this mortal coil, Ethan comes home to say goodbye, offering Bailey one last reason to wag his tail.
    Soon, Bailey is back again, this time as a police dog with a lonely handler.
    Throughout each of his five lives, ­Bailey wonders what the point of life is. Why was he put on this planet? Why does he keep coming back? Most importantly, will he ever see Ethan again?
    Expect your emotions to be manipulated in A Dog’s Purpose. Writing is poor and acting middling, but none of that matters because every scene is packed with cute puppies doing adorable things. You’ll see bright-eyed dogs panting; dogs grabbing stuff and running; dogs barking and wriggling. Every time the movie lulls, here comes a four-legged rescue. You’re even forced into weeping at seeing old dogs die.
    You will be watching dogs die, each equally manipulative. It’s like signing up to watch the last 20 minutes of Marley and Me four times. This is not a movie to view without a packet of tissues.
    Though you’ll cry, A Dog’s Purpose is oddly devoid of other emotional attachment. Director Lasse Hallström (The Hundred Foot Journey) beautifully captured the personality of the dog actors in the film. Humanity is often short-changed.
    Performances reflect this slipshod attitude to storytelling. An ensemble that ranges from unknowns to veteran actors Dennis Quaid (Fortitude) and John Ortiz (Togetherness) varies from robotic to perfunctory. If all of their dialog were cut, there would be no great loss to plot. Maybe the human actors lost interest when it was clear a dog would be stealing all their scenes.

Poor Drama • PG • 120 mins.

Dining Guide 2017 leads the way to good times

I get nostalgic when this time of year comes around. It isn’t just that we’ve already sped through one-12th of this new year — though that recognition does make me want to throw out an anchor against the tide of time.
    It’s our annual Dining Guide — where we introduce you to two-dozen local eating and drinking establishments — that sends me traveling back in time.
    Restaurants and bars were my family’s business. My mother and father met in the coffee shop of the Mark Twain Hotel in downtown St. Louis. She was a waitress, and he ate lunch there. A succession of bars followed: The Midget and the 34 Club in St. Louis, and places, names long forgotten, in Key West, where Dad’s World War II Navy service in the Shore Patrol opened new doors for his wife and friends.
    Stuck on the dilemma of Key West, where Mother and Dad wanted to stay, and Grandmother Martin’s insistence on Miami, where she’d lived in the 1930s, we moved back to St. Louis. That’s where I grew up, my school years up through college centering on The Stymie Club, the cocktail lounge and supper club my parents opened with Dad’s bit of an inheritance — from whom, I now wonder? — and Mother’s hard-working conviction she could do anything.
    Fast-forward to now, where the week I’ve spent immersed in this year’s Dining Guide reminds me anew that people go to bars and restaurants to have a good time.
    Going out to eat and drink, you let somebody else take over an hour or two of your time. you’ve made an implied contract of your willingness to pay for that somebody’s ability to use that bit of your precious time better than you can.     On the other half of that contract are owners who’ve created eating and drinking establishments from the ground up for your pleasure, just as my family did in their bars and restaurants. They want to feed you, and they promise to do it well. They want to give you a place to find refuge and refreshment. They want to make you so satisfied that you keep coming back, whether to a regular refueling stop or a place so comfortable that it feels, like the Stymie did, like your club. A place that you like will feel that way, if you let it, as you get to know bar and wait staff, owners and regulars.
    Newer versions of the food, drink and camaraderie I remember from my childhood await you in Chesapeake country. In this week’s paper, you’ll see what awaits you in two dozen-plus establishments ambitious to satisfy you. To give you a sense of each place and who’s behind it, what to expect and what it does best, Bay Weekly staff and I have visited repeatedly, eaten and drunk and talked to owners and customers. Each in its own way is committed to living up to that implied contract with you.
    I hope this Dining Guide gives you many good times. I’m starting on mine tonight.

Sandra Olivetti Martin
Editor and publisher
email editor@bayweekly.com, www.sandraolivettimartin.com

Can three smart teens outwit a madman with 23 personalities?

Three teens waiting for a ride home from a birthday party are abducted. The girls — Casey (Anya Taylor-Joy: Morgan), Claire (Haley Lu Richardson: The Edge of Seventeen) and Marcia (Jessica Sula: Lucifer) wake to an argument between their captor and a woman.
    The girls hope to reason with the female abductor. Then they learn she is just one of a myriad of personalities inhabiting the troubled mind of their male abductor.
    Two of the personalities, Dennis and Patricia (James McAvoy: X-Men: Apocalypse), are devotees of the beast, a harrowing creature that will remake the Earth by eating the innocent. The girls don’t really believe in the beast, but they’re fairly convinced that the man holding them captive — whose other personalities include a prepubescent boy, a fashion designer, a diabetic and a history nerd — is crazy.
    Can they outsmart and escape a man with 23 personalities?
    Can Director M. Night Shyamalan (The Visit) make a believable movie?
    These girls aren’t typical victims. They’re smart. They don’t wait passively for rescue. The villain, too, is atypical, in that he comes in at least four wildly different variations. Shyamalan also treats the idea of multiple personality disorder with respect, avoiding making his baddie a drooling psychopath.
    Actors are more than carrying their weight. McAvoy’s stupendous performance sells the outlandish concept. He alters the set of his face, his body language and his voice so distinctly that each personality is clearly identifiable.
    As Casey, Taylor-Joy holds her own against McAvoy, using her eyes to express both terror and determination. Watching her try to beguile and manipulate all of the personalities is fascinating.
    Split is entertaining, but it’s not perfect. Plot holes and overwrought dialogue abound, though the performances smooth that over.
    A great popcorn film that offers laughs, chills and thrills, Split is worth the ticket price. See it in a crowded theater, as it tends to evoke vociferous and often entertaining reactions from the audience.

Good Thriller • PG-13 • 117 mins.

Last year, I started from seed and had my biggest and best crop ever

If you planted garlic last fall, it now needs mulching with compost. I use compost made from either crab or lobster waste. Both have a good supply of calcium and a medium to high level of slow-release nitrogen for when soil temperatures rise above freezing. Mulching also protects these shallow-rooted plants from rapid temperature changes.
    If you plan to grow onions this spring, consider growing your own seedlings. Last year, instead of purchasing seedlings from Texas, I grew all my onions from seed and had the biggest and best crop ever. Since onion seeds are slow to germinate, seeds should be sown in prepared potting blends before the end of January. I highly recommend Copra and Candy. Both are good keepers, and Candy is as mild tasting as any Vidalia onion.
    Sow the onion seeds approximately a quarter- to a half-inch apart on the surface of the soil. Cover lightly by placing potting mix on a piece of window screen and shaking it over the seeds. Water well. Locate the containers where the soil will remain about 80 degrees. Onion seeds will germinate in about two weeks at this temperature.
    Once most of the seeds have germinated, place the container in full sun at a window facing south, as onion plants will grow in cooler temperatures. As daylight hours get longer, you will observe increased growth. Once the seedlings reach three inches tall, start making light applications of liquid fertilizer at three-week intervals.
    By mid March to early April, the onion plants will be five to six inches tall and ready to transplant into the garden. Onion plants are very cold-tolerant and can be planted early. They do best in soils rich in compost. I incorporate an inch or two of compost into the soil just prior to planting.
    If you prefer large onions, space the seedlings at least six inches apart. For smaller onions, space them four inches apart. I grow mine in solid blocks with spacing either six by six or four by six inches. I like the six-inch spacing between rows so that I can cultivate with my onion hoe. After the soil has been prepared, use a dibble to make the planting holes. Then, using your fingers, lift the onion seedlings in clusters from their rooting medium. Separate the seedlings, putting one in each hole. After all of the seedlings have been planted, use a stream of water to wash the soil into the planting holes to cover the roots.
    Once the onions start to bulb in June, stop cultivating the soil between the rows. The slightest amount of mechanical damage to the skin of the bulb will induce rot.
    As soon as the tails of the onions show yellow and browning, use a rake and knock down the tails to prevent neck rot microorganisms from entering the stem. Neck rot will spoil your onions when you put them into storage as summer ends.


Ask The Bay Gardener your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

Once upon a time, this fish meant food and sport in early spring

Mention the word gudgeon to any Bay angler, and you’ll usually get a quizzical look. It was not always so.
    The gudgeon (Gobio gobio) is a small (up to five inches) schooling fish of the carp family that lives in our brackish waters but spawns in fresh water. They will sometimes appear in good numbers in our tributaries in early springtime, sprint to more lonesome areas to procreate, then disappear to whence they came.
    Francis F. Beirne, a Maryland historian, documented the gudgeon runs in his 1951 tome, The Amiable Baltimorean (reprinted in 1984), as a long-ago springtime obsession. Describing schools of the little fish in the “tens of thousands pulsing up the Gunpowder watershed” in the early 1920s, he noted crowds of waiting anglers, armed with slender cane poles, sewing thread for line, a small bobber and a tiny hook baited with a pinch of worm.
    The catches were often in the hundreds. Cleaned, dusted with seasoned flour and fried a crispy brown, along with red-skinned potatoes, the gudgeon were a gourmand’s treat. Over intervening years the runs have fallen with the quality of our waters.
 

    The presence of gudgeon each springtime is not limited to the Gunpowder River; the fish can be found in most of our freshwater tributaries. Their timing is impossible to predict, but most schools appear coincidently with those of the herring and hickory shad. Dogwood blossoms predict the peak of the season.
    The fish are rarely caught accidentally because of their small size and smaller mouths, so an angler has to be fishing for them purposefully with hooks originally designed for trout flies (size 22 through 14), lightly weighted and fished off the bottom, usually with a tiny bobber. Rarely these days, the schools can be spotted nearer the surface circulating through the swifter waters, awaiting the proper conditions to continue upstream to spawn.
    Approaching the fish with a fly rod, a floating line and a tiny, bright-colored silver or gold fly can also be an effective method of catching them. Hildebrandt Lure Co. makes a small, Flicker Spinner fly rod lure in size 0 (1⁄32 oz.) that may be effective and can also be used with a light spin rod with a small bobber for casting weight.
    Maryland Department of Natural Resources does not regulate gudgeon specifically. It is considered in the same vein as our other common minnows and can be harvested similarly. For hook and line or dip net, there are neither limits nor closed seasons. Keep in mind, though, that their numbers are limited, so if you happen upon a good concentration of them, moderation is prudent.
    It may seem like an outsized labor to catch such a diminutive fish, but it connects us to an old Maryland angling and dining tradition.