A-Z Munchin' Monday: JJJJJJ

This week we're covering foods that start with the letter J. If I were to cover a food that I have come to enjoy in recent years, I would probably home in on Jambalaya. Good stuff when done right, and I have especially enjoyed it at a restaurant in downtown Cleveland called Fat Fish Blue. More than once I have enjoyed a big hot bowl of this ragin' Cajun collection of tasty stuff.

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But my emphasis has been on foods that bring back the nostalgia for days long gone by, and so for my J food I select: JELLO MOLDS. Not just Jello, mind you, but those rings of jello-ey goodness with other stuff embedded in them, often served in lieu of a salad, frequently garnished with some lettuce or other such rabbit food underneath.
Is it just me, or were Jello molds all the rage back in the 60's or so? It seems to my now-not-so-reliable memory that, back then, Mom would trot out a Jello mold on a pretty routine basis. Sometimes it would be green (lime?) Jello with mandarin oranges embedded in it. Or maybe orange Jello with carrot strips and raisins. or some sort of thing with cream cheese on the top. And then what, exactly, is aspic? Seems like aspic played a role back in the day, but I cannot put my finger on that.

It's been a long time since I've seen a Jello mold served up. What's happened to this American icon of eatin'?

A-Z Munchin' Monday - I

ICED TEA

Well, I thought long and hard about singing the praises of ice cream, which has played a large role in my life (and my waist measurement, I suspect). But I thought I'd travel the liquid refreshment path and discuss iced tea.

There are differing schools of thought about iced tea. Some (including my family while I was growing up) feel that iced tea is not something to be sweetened with sugar or other sickening substances. Their tea tastes like - well, like tea. Like leaves that are ground up and suspended in water. And perhaps a touch of mint. This beverage is passable as a quencher of thirst, and not bad at all when it's sunny and ninety degrees.

Then there's the "sweet tea" school. This would include our neighbor and my buddy Tom's mom, who hailed from North Carolina, which was obvious as soon as she spoke. It is probably a rule for southerners to empty a five pound sack of sugar into every pitcher of tea they make. It's a wonder the liquid absorbs all that sugar.

Anyhow, then, Tom's mom would toss in some fruit particles (like hunks of lemon or other citrus fruit). of course, being a kid at the time, I loved this version of iced tea and wondered why it was not the universal iced tea offered everywhere, including at home. The I'd consume five glasses and proceed to bounce off the walls for a couple hours.

Later in life, when we were off on our three-week National Lampoon Station Wagon Tour of the West in 1998, I became addicted to raspberry iced tea. In my simple way of accounting for my actions, I felt that this concoction had to be better for me, and more of a thirst quencher when out in, say, Canyonlands in the desert of southern Utah, than a Diet Coke or the like, which is full of sodium after all. I was no doubt fooling myself. Raspberry iced tea is probably no better, health-wise or quench-wise, than a Diet Coke in such a setting. But my appreciation of a raspberry iced tea has lasted to this day, and I seem to order one up pretty often when dining out. Good stuff.

When Auggie Visits, It's Tug-o'-War Time!!!

Nature's Pattern Continues

It took a little searching, but we found them on a walk tonight - the turkey vultures have indeed returned to the 'hood. They have just chosen a stand of pines a couple blocks south of the past two years' venue. As we walked, they were flying in to roost, settling and re-settling in the pines, after a day of whatever vultures do - I picture them feasting on dead things. I guess it's a living.

This walk was the start of a mellow-ish weekend. Followed the walk up with a sit-down on the deck with the dog. This was a thing I would do with our previous animal - pass knowing glances as we surveyed the estate for signs of life and movement. This dog was not quite as content as his predecessor, issuing occasional little whines, but he eventually settled down and patiently stared out at the lawn.
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Tomorrow will not be a fun day. Linda's itinerary includes two funerals; mine the latter one. The first is an acquaintance's mother whom we had never met. The second is a member of our church named Al, who was 84, served in the War, and had a career teaching and administering schools. We only knew the retired Al, but we saw him a lot around town, pedaling his bicycle, decked out in hunter's orange. On the Fourth we'd see him piloting his Model T in the parade. It was immaculate.

Most memorably, we were out at the reservoir one day when Al drove up in his pickup, dislodged a kayak, put it in at the boat launch, and paddled one lap around the perimeter of the reservoir. Pulled it back out, loaded it in , and drove off after exchanging some pleasantries.

I can't explain it, exactly, but I have deep admiration for people like Al who just seem to follow their own guidance system, even (especially!) at a ripe old age.

I'd like to think Al is biking around some gold-paved street right now. Probably doesn't need the hunter's orange.

School Play

Just when the news is getting you down about the fate of our Nation and the state of its Youth, something like this comes along. The local high school put on their annual musical this past weekend, and we bought some tickets to check it out. Not too long ago, we had a dog in this fight; our son had a few memorable roles and bits in the annual shows as he made his way through high school; our daughter was in a play as well. Now it's down to sibs of our kids' friends, and a number of kids from church (including the male lead).

The thing is, these kids work like crazy (as do more than a few adults) to put on as professional a show as possible. What they pull off is remarkable. Of course, the cost is basically giving up all their free time for weeks and weeks to approach perfection. But it is worth it. As the male lead said afterwards, "Some schools have champion football or basketball teams. We have musicals!"

This year it was The Music Man, a good choice, with memorable tunes, and more than enough roles for kids of all ages, male and female, to get their chance to shine.

If you recall, the play starts out with a train scene that relies on the speedier, then slower, rhythm of the rails for the eight or so "salesmen" to deliver their lines, almost rap style. and these guys, dressed in their cheesy plaid salesman suits, pulled it off, tightly intertwining their lines and pulling off the footwork.

These kids were good - disbelief was suspended for a couple hours and I got caught up in the goings-on in River City. The tunes are still replaying in my head. And best of all, here was a wonderful example of a large number of teens (and a handful of younger 'uns to fill out the cast) giving up their time for a couple months to produce something excellent, even if it is fleeting (the set was no doubt being struck before we left that last performance); the ultimate in teamwork. These kids could teach a lot of adults about how working together can produce wondrous things. Bravo!

Munchin' Monday: A couple H's

It's time again for our A-Z review of the world of food, from anchovies to zucchini. This week is brought to you by the letter "H". And the whole deal is the brainchild of Jen over at Unglazed.
My lifetime food achievement award for "H" goes to the HAMBURGER. What is more American, more fast foody, and more just plain chopped bovine goodness that a 'burger? Back when i was a kid, and my sister will back me up on this, whenever we stopped in a restaurant, whether a McDonalds or a fancy tablecloth place, I'd order me up a hamburger, or in the more swank places, chopped sirloin. Burgers were simply a life-sustaining item for me.

The best burger I ever ate (that I can recall; perhaps my memory is embellishing this thing) was in a littel dive somewhere on a back road in Ocean City, Maryland. I was a high school kid at some off-season retreat, and not many places were open. But this burger and sandwich joint was, and man, was that thing juicy and tasty and loaded with the tomato and lettuce and ketchum and onion and who knows what else...

Of course, with age comes the wisdom (and cholestorol level) to teach one that moderation is a good thing. So now when I find myself in a restaurant, I do not immediately default to the chopped beef section of the menu. But every once in a while, oooh boy, it's great to sink one's teeth into the beefy goodness. And with grilling season around the corner....
On to H number two. A decade or more ago, I was on a business trip to Albuquerque, and my wife Linda came along. Every morning, I had breakfast with her before I had to go off to whatever it was that I had to do, in a little restaurant next to the hotel called Mama somebody's (I forget the details). Every morning, I ordered the Huevos Rancheros. For some reason, that combination of eggs on a tortilla, with beans, and some salsa (I was big on salsa verde, having never seen green salsa back East), really hit the spot with me.

Shortly after, we were visiting with a group of Linda's college friends who get together monthly or so, and one of the group, Chris, took it upon himself to bring the necessary ingredients and cook up some mighty fine Sunday Morning Huevos. This has become tradition for perhaps a decade or more now, and I look forward to those huevos to this day.

So them's my H's. You can view other people's choices by traveling over to the aforementioned Jen's blog.

Muncin' Mondays: some Groovy Grub

My odd walk down Munchable Memory Lane continues with a couple foods that begin with G. First up is the plain old graham cracker. Not too exciting for most people, admittedly. But when I was young I decided they made a great breakfast cereal. I would take, I think, three graham crackers (maybe four; I'm not sure). Break them along the factory-produced lines into four pieces per cracker. Distribute the pieces in a cereal bowl and add milk. Then eat the things as quickly as possible because, in about 45 seconds, they would be reduced to mush in the milk. And I liked them somewhat crisp.
I had a few friends over once to beta test this concoction. It may have gone well, but as I remember it, I stepped it up and offered the grahams drenched in grape juice. No takers. And, as I recall it, the milk-soaked ones were not too big a hit. Anyhow, someone else came up with other graham-based cereal products that earned them millions.
The other G-Food of my youth was a product that pretty much came and went: Great Shakes. A box full of these finny triangular shaped containers full of a powdery substance to which we added milk and shook vigorously in a specially provided container. There was a little jingle for the product that went something like "Anyone can have a soda fountain now with Great Shakes, new Great Shakes.." As I recall they were pretty good once the powder was shaken enough to dissolve. The result was pretty thick. I believe someone in the Great Shakes ad, with a ridiculous British Invasion Accent, proclaimed the product "so thick it stands up to a straw". Or am I dreaming this stuff? Anyone else remember this confection?

can spring be that far away?

Out with that stuff on the right; In with more of that thing on the left!

Took the dog out to the reservoir for a quick look around. The ice is receding (see header picture). Ollie had a good time walking around and checking things out. The snowmelt was splashing down the spillway. The birds were hanging out where the solid H2O met up with the liquid kind. And when we got back home, behold, a crocus or something was trying to tell us it's time to add a little color to the greyscales of winter.

Happy lookin' dog on the ride back home

A-Z Munchin' Monday - Brought to you by the letter F

OK, I'm not trying to maintain some reputation for bad eating habits, but I surveyed all the foods I could find starting with the letter F, and nothing really leapt out at me. I mean, I like a lot of fish, for instance, such as the first spring run salmon I had in Portland a few years back. That was great. And I really like a lot of fruit, so I was thinking about, for example, the Fuji apples we pick each fall at a nearby orchard. Fujis are my faves, apple-wise.

But ultimately, I have to go with FAST FOOD. Not because I frequent the places, given the fifty-somethings' fascination with cholesterol and blood pressure and sodium and all that. But ah, the memories! Forget the arteries!

Growing up in Baltimore, the first big fast food chain we patronized was Gino's, named for and owned by Gino Marchetti, a pro football player who helped the Baltimore Colts win the NFL championship in pre-Superbowl 1958 and '59.
When Gino's opened uptown, me 'n' the boys would take out pocket change of a summer evening, and walk the mile or so, over the relatively new Baltimore Beltway bridge, where we would pump our fists in the air to get the trucks to give us those thrilling diesel honks, and hang out at Gino's, buying a burger, fries, and in my case, orange soda, for less than a dollar.
Over the years, Gino's, like most local chains, gave in and sold out to a bigger chain; in our case, Roy Rogers. More recently, Roy Rogers has sold out to the Ubiquitous Golden Arches. I was in that very establishment a month ago while visiting "the homeland", and I must say the interior appointments and accoutrements of these fast food joints have improved, with HDTVs spewing news content, some wireless availability, and (in our home town) a cozy gas burning fireplace.
I did a hitch at the Ubiquitous Golden arches, way back when, before all those amenities, spending a summer as a french fry man (as if one has to specialize). What I remember most is coming home pretty much coated with grease. You had to occasionally take a big block of shortening and smoosh it into the fry vat, then drop and raise baskets of sizzling hot fries, dumping salt on them, and laying them out to dry and await the scooper. It was simply impossible to rid oneself of the grease and salt permeating the pores and soaking the skin.
I use fast food joints mainly for coffee when on the road. The drive-up windows are pretty convenient, if you do not have a squabbling family of seven in a van in front of you trying to make their way through some ridiculous order involving virtually every item on the menu and three order changes per kid.

Once in a while, I give in and savor a Whopper or a single. I can also make a pretty respectable meal out of the Wendy's value menu - salad, potato, chili, etc..., although the total packaging it takes to serve it all up is criminal. I also would give a shout out to some of the offerings at Arby's (a decent Reuben, for example), and the occasional KFC or Arthur Treacher's ok if you follow up with some raw carrots and celery to just sort of offset the whole healthy/unhealthy food balance.

So, anyhow, that's my salute to Fast Food, Our American Necessary Evil. Ok, not even necessary. More like a guilty (occasional) pleasure.

A fond farewell to the 2010 Winter Olympics. I put in quite a few hours over the past couple of weeks catching whatever event was on, and I will now be going through the inevitable Olympics withdrawal. But the Summer Games are only a couple years away, and I suppose that if these Olympics went on for a couple more weeks, I would eventually tire of watching
people skidding on the ice and snow in various ways.
But it's ben a fun run, with quite a few memorable highlights.
'til next time!

A-Z Munchin' Mondays: E E

OK, in this week's Healthy Gourmet blog (ha ha, big joke there) we are going for two points with the delectable, delightful...

ELEPHANT EAR

No, we are not referring to those giant flappy things on either side of an elephant's head.
Nor are we referring to the plant that bears this name.
We refer, of course, to that carny food sensation concocted from dough, sugar, lots of grease, probably some butter, and maybe some other bad stuff.
We hit the County Fair every year, and it is pretty much required of us to order up a plate with this thing on it, then spend some time walking the midway while stuffing gobs of this cholesterol-on-a-plate into our mouths. Not only is it filling, but it will also lube up your hands with enough grease that you won't have to shake hands with any of the politicians working the place: "Sorry, Commissioner, elephant ear, you know". Of course, your consumption of an E.E. will be obvious anyway, based on the powdered sugar or cinnamon lodged on various parts of your face.

There is an F-word closely associated with the E.E. I refer, of course, to the elephant ear's cousin, the funnel cake.
It is just as good, based on my culinary experience. I don't even know the difference, except I think that whereas the Ear is a pretty solid hunk of doughy mess, the Funnel's dough comes dripping out of some narrow device (probably a funnel, and hence its name), and you get this uneven, patchy thing on your plate, with a load of powdered sugar on top of it. We really don't discriminate much, and we usually end up with one or the other at the Fair. I believe it is easier for several people to grab hunks of funnel cake than ripping apart an elephant ear.

Anyhow, the smell and touch and greasiness on one's fingers is all part of the sensory wonderment of the Fair. As I listen to the drip, drip, drip of melting snow, that will probably freeze back up later tonight as the temps drop, making morning travel a challenge once again, I've got to say that I am pretty psyched for summer with its County Fairs and Street Fairs and elephant ears and funnel cakes.

A-Z Munchin' Monday: What to Do with "D"?

Well, here we are only four weeks in, and I'm drawing a bit of a blank. No big food or beverage starting with a D has leapt out as being instrumental in my life. So I guess I will just have to mention a few at least semi-savory selections that have passed past the lips, over the gums, look out stomach, here it comes...

DOUBLE STUFF COOKIES: I love it when they double down on the icing on those cookies like Oreos. We just went through a package of double iced Keebler elf cookies. The cookies themselves are inane: as if I want to really feast on little elfin creatures with ridiculous puns and slogans written on them. But if you do not gaze upon your prey, they are pretty good, basic junk food. Especially with the double icing. I find myself savoring them, taking small bites, making it last. I don't always do that.

DOG FOOD: (No, this item has not passed past MY lips. It has been sucked down with incredible force and fury into the innards of a large canine). When you get a big dog, we have learned, the dog does everything big. This one we have now, for example, can eat like nobody's business, so we find ourselves returning to the dog food shelves of our local grocery purveyors. We find that when choosing a dog food, it is not easy to strike that balance between affordability and actual nutritious quality. We try to accommodate the latter, but our wallets also lead us toward the former. We have recently brought home Rachel Ray dog food. Seems like a weird product for Rachel to be putting her name all over, but Ollie is a big fan. Of course, so far, I'd say Ollie is a big fan of just about anything edible, and he applies a pretty liberal interpretation of the term, "edible".

DONUTS: I was served a donut just this morning as a Valentine present at church. I have a deep respect for the donut, and its amazing ability to perfectly complement a cup of coffee. However, I am also at the age where donuts are applied straight to your body mass, with some multiplier effect, whereby a four ounce donut adds four POUNDS to your body weight. (I exaggerate, slightly, but I am pretty sure about the multiplier effect. Just don't understand the science behind it).

DIM SUM: Had the real deal once in Chinatown in San Francisco. We were, at the time, possibly the only Caucasians in the place. It was a really fun experience. There was this weird (to our culture, where we basically know how to order at drive-throughs) system where people come up with unidentifiable food objects, ask if you would like one, and if you take one, they stamp your bill with a symbol for that specific item. I was up for the totality of the experience; interpretations were scant, so I am not sure what all we ate that morning, but I tried a lot of things and it was all pretty good (some great) stuff.

DEVILED EGGS: These are good if you get one early in the picnic. If you are at a family reunion or some other "pot luck" event being held outside, and Aunt Molly plunks down the Tupperware container with her famous deviled eggs, you will want to get one of those bad boys early in the feast, before the yellow jackets start their maneuvers and the eggs start spoiling in the sultry 95 degree weather. If they are still cool from Aunt Molly's refrigerator, they can be wonderful. (older people have the wherewithal to prepare their food the night before and refrigerate it; in our generation, we take the food prep right down to the deadline, or in my case, hit up the supermarket on the way to the event for some pre-made, nondescript items, hoping that no relative or fellow employee or whomever calls me out, asking, "So, Ben, what fine entree did you provide us this year?" Ok, ok, the Doritos and Cheez Whiz are mine...)

and finally....
DESSERT. Music to the ears. Multiplier to the belly region.

fun activity on a snowy night

Ingredients:
One camera
One tennis ball, slobbery
One dog, also slobbery

Combine dog and tennis ball by bouncing ball hard on floor. Wait for dog to leap after ball. Engage camera's shutter at critical point where dog and ball intersect. Repeat until results are satisfactory (or you get bored, or dog gets bored).

Results may vary:

A-Z Munchin' Monday: Chef Boy Ar Dee

By now you are realizing that this A-Z survey of food ain't gonna be no gourmet column. This week's choice is Chef Boy Ar Dee Pizza. Why, you ask?

This was another important culinary icon from my youth. There were four of us homies: Gerald, Tom, Schletzer, and myself, who on a number of summer evenings would, for some reason, run around the neighborhood block four times (well, most of us would complete the course). This approximated a one mile run. Following the run, we would head over to Schletzer's kitchen, where we would proceed to make, bake, and devour one of these Chef Boy Ar Dee 'zas.

From what I can remember, the crust, when stretched out over a decent sized pizza pan, got so thin you could see the pan through the paper-thin dough. But it would cook up and taste pretty good to a bunch of guys still panting from their mile run. Ah, the memories. (Although I am not nostalgic enough to attempt to repeat this tradition).

More "C-food" at Jen's blog. Check it out.

A-Z Munchin' Monday: Birthday Burger

presentation is everything...

I raided the Streetpolo archives for this shot, but it is the most important food item in my world that I could come up with for the letter B. We're talking BURGERS, as in HAM-BURGERS. Come to think, why HAMburgers and not BEEFburgers? I suppose it's a German thing dealing with geography. Hamburgers, Frankfurters...And I am too pressed for time to research this one just now. Feel free to google or wiki that one amongst yourselves...

The deal was, Mom would cook us whatever we wanted for dinner on our birthday. My sister would go for something fairly classy, like shrimp. For me? It had to be hamburger, mashed potatoes, and peas. For dessert, I NEEDED a marble cake. NO SUBSTITUTIONS!

This has gone on for about a half a century; skipping only my college years. When I left my family for fame and fortune, I was fortunATE enough to meet a fine woman who would take over the duties of plying me with the annual 'burger, mashed spuds, and peas. AND she bakes a wonderful marble cake. The tradition continues unabated! We seldom eat peas, ever, except on that magical day. Burgers and mashed potatoes, more often. But that combo is reserved for just that one special day every year.

It cannot be stopped.
Viva la burger!!!

Heaven May Sound Like This

I know in this age of Lady Gaga, this is not going to be for everybody, but I was playing a little ditty in the car going to work this morning and before it was over, I was nearly welling up - in a good way. Some music has that effect on me.

The little ditty, with the Latin title, "Spem in Alium", is a piece that was written around 1570 by Thomas Tallis. And anyone conducting this thing is earning his pay; Tallis wrote the piece to be performed by eight choirs of five people, or forty voices total. Now, those voices come in and out of the song, so it's not like everybody's in the game all the time. This is the absolute charm to the piece for me; it just unfolds and reforms itself over the eight or nine minutes it takes to waft through it. To my ears, it is absolutely gorgeous and spellbinding.

Thomas Tallis

It is generally sung in Latin, but roughly translated to English, the lyrics go something like this:

I have never put my hope in any other but in you,

O God of Israel

who can show both anger

and graciousness,

and who absolves all the sins of suffering man

Lord God,

Creator of Heaven and Earth

be mindful of our lowliness

If that's a bit heavy for ya, well, remember, it is sung in Latin.

Most versions feature men's and women's voices. In the video you can watch by clicking here, it was tackled, I think quite successfully, by the all-men King's Singers. Collectively, they have quite a range, occasionally reaching the upper stratosphere.

clever cover: images of 40 guys

Again, this may not be your style. But I think that if you let it reveal itself to you, you just may be as spellbound as I am.