HUNGRY GERALD

Fifty fifth wedding anniversary. July 2, 1963 was luckiest day of HG’s life as he married Beautiful Sharon Kent, the love of HG’s life. Now, 55 years later on an equally steamy day, HG/BSK celebrated with a traditional sea dinner of shucked oysters and linguine con vongole. All the good words describe BSK. Creative. Insightful. Intelligent. Compassionate. Caring. Strong. Plus BSK is stylish, sexy and glowingly attractive. Blessed with unending energy, BSK does art, gardening, household repairs and maintenance and much else every day. Without complaining. Besides being an extraordinary wife and life companion for HG (the principal reason HG is alive today), BSK is a loving and much loved mother of two and grandmother of four. Daughter Lesley R. said about her mother: Crisis, disaster, sickness, distress, confusion. BSK confronts them all. Whatever has to be done as a remedy, BSK does. Quietly. Steadily. With no fuss and no drama. HG may be flamboyant and demanding of attention, but it is BSK who has laid the foundation for a loving family. She is the rock. And, of course, BSK is a wonderful, robust, hearty inventive cook making every meal a feast. As the country song puts it: “What My Woman Can’t Do, Can’t Be Done.” HG may be Hungry Gerald but HG is also Greedy Gerald, wishing for another 55 years with Beautiful Sharon Kent.

In his novel, “By Love Possessed, James Gould Cozzens described whiskey as “the old man’s friend.” At age 88 (89 in the autumn), HG agrees. However, HG has many other alcoholic pals that enhance HG’s pre-dinner, dinner and post dinner routine. HG does not drink anything alcoholic before 6PM. The exception is lunchtime in Paris. Restaurant luncheon cartes in that city are much more modestly priced than those in the evening. Therefore, HG accompanies his Parisian lunches (modern inventive or classically traditional) with ample wine. HG combats the wooziness that usually accompanies a bibulous luncheon by espressos and as much walking as the old fellow can accommodate. At home in New Mexico or Prince Edward Island, HG defies the health police and moderation counsellors by relishing boozy evenings. Bloody Mary (generous pour of vodka) at six. White wine, if having oysters or other seafood appetizers. With dinner, red wine (from Chile, Argentina, Spain or California). Marc, bourbon or Canadian rye after the meal. Sometimes brandy enhanced by Peychaud’s Bitters. Is HG shortening HG’s life by alcoholic excess? Possibly. But, the pleasure negates the risk.

Errands brought HG/BSK into Charlottetown on a sunny, brisk day. The capital city is becoming a foodie destination due to Prince Edward Island’s surprisingly diverse population (PEI has given a warm welcome to a large number of Syrian refugees, shaming the so-called Christian country to the south). On the downtown streets there are Vietnamese, Chinese, Thai, Japanese and Lebanese restaurants. Also an Asian grill and a traditional English fish-and-chips joint. Naturally, there are lots of eateries dispensing mussels, lobsters, scallops and other local PEI treats. HG/BSK lunched at Sadat’s Cuisine, an Afghan/Middle Eastern restaurant serving halal kebabs and many vegetarian dishes. HG/BSK had splendid steamed ground lamb dumplings in a yogurt and pea sauce. Also, sauteed eggplant slices and a robust platter of delectable stewed spinach with outstanding rice mixed with raisins and carrot slivers. Home made pita, tstaziki, hot sauce. Pot of steaming green tea. Smiling, gentle service. Modest prices. HG/BSK will be back.

Dramatic sunsets viewed from the living room of HG/BSK’s home on the Prince Edward Island oceanfront evoke many favorite painters. J.M.W. Turner, of course, with his mastery of sea, mist and sky colors. Kenneth Noland and strong horizontal bars of color. Mark Rothko and his homages to color. Also Milton Avery, Albert Pinkham Ryder and Arthur Dove with their unique images of sea shores. All of this musing about color led BSK, with BSK’s remarkable eye and background in art history, to closely examine Toby, The Wonder Dog: And, voila!! Toby’s black splashes of colors resemble Robert Motherwell’s monumental “Elegy to the Spanish Republic”. That painting and Picasso’s “Guernica”, are two of the greatest paintings of the twentieth century, fitting commentaries on the tragic events of the pivotal Spanish Civil War. “No pasaran” was the motto of the Republican Loyalists fighting the Fascists. “They shall not pass.” Unfortunately, with the aid of Hitler and Mussolini’s aircraft, the Loyalists were defeated leading to decades of General Franco’s dictatorship. With the markings of Motherwell’s painting upon him. Toby gives HG/BSK hope that the current American Fascist wave will soon recede and disappear.

Yes, HG is obsessive about Toby The Wonder Dog. Fearful when Toby is missing for a more than ordinary length of time. (Coyotes, raccoons, bobcats, rattlers and other predators?). Very concerned when Toby shows signs of an upset tummy. Yes, HG has become a doting, over-protective parent once again. For most of the year HG’s handsome little companion has a dense, curly coat which makes him resemble a little lamb. Keeps him warm and snug when weather becomes inclement. However, grooming is necessary when coat becomes tangled and filled with objectionable smelly bits picked up in his wanderings. Now that we are in the summer solstice, shearing has become necessary. So, BSK made an appointment with a very good, young groomer on the south side of Prince Edward Island. Toby anticipated his fate (smart dog) and didn’t like it. So, the winter coat came off and what emerged was an unhappy, skinny, vulnerable pup. Tough time for Toby. The weather turned wintry. Cold, incessant driving rain, strong winds. With no coat to protect him, the little guy had a serious case of the shivers. Thoughtful BSK wrapped Toby in towels after his necessary trips outside to do his necessities. BSK assured Toby that sunny, warm (even hot) beach days were in his future and he would be happy not to be steaming in his fur coat.

That’s the claim of The Guardian, Prince Edward Island’s much loved daily newspaper. HG/BSK’s breakfast is incomplete without a reading of The Guardian. The front page is always arresting. This one expresses joy and preparedness for Oct. 17, the happy day when cannabis becomes legal in Canada. And, there’s an unusual tale of a guy who got a two year jail sentence for stealing more than 100 pairs of underwear from PEI women. The undies were kept in re-sealable plastic bags labelled with the women’s names. A stimulating story (that is, if you find lady’s knickers, scanties, thongs, a matter of more than cursory interest). There’s little local stuff The Guardian doesn’t cover: Meetings. Legislative matters. The environment. Seas. Tides. The lobster and oyster fisheries. Weddings. Births. Obits. Sadly, the paper no longer has a restaurant reviewer. The last one, a man who dined with his wife, had a sunny disposition. Never tasted anything that he and spouse didn’t like. His prose became lyrical when he described a tunafish sandwich on whole wheat toast.

Traditional “red sauce” Italian restaurants have lost ground to “Northern Italian” places that limit the use of tomatoes and garlic in their cuisine. But, “red sauce” dishes still carry a powerful culinary punch. Sunny, warm weather at Prince Edward Island yesterday. But, the night turned chilly. HG/BSK desired something hearty. And, that’s what they got. BSK created a sauce of tomatoes, onions, garlic, peppers, olive oil and four Italian sausages (two mild and two hot). HG cooked (al dente) excellent Garafolo tagliatelle. With plenty of grated parmesan, red chile flakes and an accompaniment of Chilean red wine, HG/BSK were a happy duo as they ate and watched a dramatic, lengthy sunset. Must confess the sausages were just okay. They lacked the fennel zest of true Noo Yawk Italians. It seems unlikely that Esposito’s will open a branch on PEI. But, HG can always dream.

Among the many wonderful things about Prince Edward Island is the fact that you can buy wondrous seafood at laughably modest prices (given the favorable ratio between the dollar and the loony). This was evidenced by the super lobster feast at the home of Noel , BSK’s sister, and her husband, Yossi. At dinner Chez Martonovich last night,HG/BSK sat down at a table centered on a platter of six steamed lobsters. (sadly, BSK is allergic to crustaceans but had the pleasure of PEI sauteed scallops). There were tiny, flavorful buttered PEI potatoes on the table plus plentiful wine and local beer. Yossi said he bicycled to a nearby harbor and bought the lobsters from an incoming boat. Very modest cost, he said. In any case, HG had an exuberant feast. There is a real difference between a fresh-off-the-boat lobster and those that have been dwelling in a tank for long periods; the flesh is sweeter, more tender and less prone to become rubbery. Much to HG’s delight, there were a number of female lobsters providing plentiful roe. Thoughtful Noel provided a big bowl of melted butter for dipping. She topped off the the festivities with a dessert of tapioca pudding and vanilla ice cream. Are you turning green with envy?

Tiny shrimp are rarely tasty, Flaccid. Mushy. The fortunate exception are the cold water baby shrimp sold at By the Bay Fish Mart in St. Peters, PEI. They are harvested in the icy waters of Newfoundland. Shelled. Steamed. Flash frozen and off, via air transport, to Prince Edward Island. They are a succulent delight. HG alternates the shrimp with Malpeque oysters as a nightly appetizer. HG mixes some spoonfuls with olive oil, sliced garlic and red pepper flakes (the way “Marco” Scungilli Salad is prepared at the Belmont Tavern in Belleville, NJ.). Or, HG gives the shrimp a hit of lemon juice and Island Shellfish lime and cilantro hot sauce. Or, Chinese style with sesame oil and blazing hot chile oil. All yummy. Gifted daughter Lesley R. makes a lush salad with the shrimp, mixing them chopped celery, onion, lemon juice and mayonnaise. By the Bay’s shrimp are one of the reasons HG is fond of Newfoundland. It seems the local population handles the very cold temperatures with strong drink, robust food, music and jollity. HG/BSK hope to visit the capital city of St. John’s one day. Reputed to be very lively, very colorful. Symbolic of St. John’s is the calendar propped in HG/BSK’s Santa Fe kitchen. The months are marked with photos of brawny, shirtless, much tattooed, bearded St. John’s guys bedecked as mermaids. Makes HG/BSK smile.

Paul Bocuse (1926-2018) was one of France’s most famous and innovative chefs. His Lyon restaurant, L’Auberge du Pont de Collonges, was a three-star landmark. Not modest, he topped the restaurant building with a large neon sign spelling out “Paul Bocuse.” (He noted that although God is very well known, the church bells still had to ring every morning). Bocuse’s restaurant featured some very elaborate dishes alongside some simple, hearty Lyonnaise specialties. One of them was Vinegar Chicken. BSK cooked it last night and it was chilly night pleasure. Skin on chicken thighs were dredged in flour and browned in olive oil. Bocuse’s original recipe called for the bird to be browned in seven tablespoons of butter (a bit excessive). Softened shallots, garlic, tarragon and thyme in chicken juices and a bit of butter. Added red wine vinegar and Japanese rice wine vinegar. Raised heat until acrid vinegar odors were diminished. Thickened the sauce with plentiful butter. (In Lyon, a big dollop of creme fraiche is swirled in the sauce). Pan was covered and the chicken was braised until done. Served with basmati rice (first rinsed and then cooked so that each kernel was separate and slightly al dente) plus a kumatoe and sweet onion salad. HG contemplated adorning the kitchen in HG/BSK’s Prince Edward Island oceanfront paradise with a neon “BSK.” The excellent woman’s cooking deserves fame.