HUNGRY GERALD

That’s how HG’s Montclair, N.J., neighbor, the immortal Yogi Berra, phrased it. And,yes, history does repeat. HG grew up in the United States pre-Pearl Harbor when anti-semitism flourished. The “radio priest”, Father Charles Coughlin railed against the Jews in his weekly radio broadcast and in his newspaper, “Social Justice.” Special targets were “the international bankers.” The “America First” party, headed by Charles A. Lindbergh also assailed “the international bankers” and Jewish “internationalists.” Fritz Kuhn and his Nazi “German American Bund” filled New York’s Madison Square Garden for rallies. The blatantly anti-semitic Christian Front was active in many American cities. Henry Ford’s Dearborn, Michigan, newspaper promoted the infamous “Protocols of the Elders of Zion.” And, of course, Jews faced quotas in medical schools and Ivy League universities. Major corporations and banks did not hire Jews. Country clubs did not admit Jews. Suburban housing was severely restricted. And, now we’ve got Der Trumperer. Like the Europeans before World War Two and the American anti-semites before Pearl Harbor, Donald Trump is claiming that Hillary Clinton is conspiring with “international financial interests” to rig the coming election and defeat him. His campaign has run an ad picturing Hillary with a load of money backdropped by a Jewish star. Maybe it’s time for Der Trumperer to be a “mensch” (a stand up guy) and stop pussyfooting You’re not fooling anyone, Despicable Donald. Say what you mean: Use the J-word.

Like The Lone Ranger, parmigiano rides to the rescue of modest Italian cooking. Sour cream does the same for Russian cuisine: Borscht and pelmeny are unthinkable without big dollops of sour cream. Ditto blini and red salmon caviar. Most folks find hamburgers inedible without a pour of ketchup. Hot dogs are sad and lonely without a smear of yellow mustard. HG likes shucked oysters au naturel, the better to inhale their briny goodness. This choice is not shared by many people who blunt the oyster taste with lemon juice, horseradish and unspeakable red sauce. Even the French, devout oyster lovers, serve the bivalves with a shallot vinaigrette. Go figure. HG likes rare steak the Tuscan way. Crushed garlic and olive oil atop the blood rare meat. During the PEI summer, BSK serves many a pot of steamed mussels and bowls of seafood chowders. HG enhances them with scoops of a mayonnaise and sriracha mix. At the cocktail hour, HG gives vodka on the rocks a few drops of Regan’s Orange bitters. BSK always adds a splash of Aperol to BSK’s pre-dinner glass of white wine. After dinner, HG makes a snifter of insipid brandy sing with an addition of Peychaud Bitters. When teetotalers are present, HG gives their glasses of sparkling water vibrant life with a few drops of funny online dating conversations.

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Wisftul farewell to HG/BSK’s oceanfront paradise on Prince Edward Island’s Gulf of St. Lawrence. As always, it’s been a happy summer enlivened by the presence of Handsome Haru and visits (too short) from other family members. Lots of joyous dining as the winds pick up speed and the leaves begin to turn. Dinner of barbecued lamb and potatoes at Noel and Yossi M.’s Ocean Mist Farm. The delicious lamb was raised by them on an organic diet and received humane treatment. Everything on N. and Y.’s table (tomatoes, peppers, chutney, salsa and the apple crisp dessert) was raised by this remarkable couple. The festive event was echoed two days later by BSK with a meal of buttery mushroom toasts, penne a la amatriciana (from Mario Batali’s Roman recipe). The feast ended with apple pie and a choice of vanilla ice cream (with Sicilian pistachio paste) or maple walnut ice cream. HG/BSK took time off from closing the house chores (admittedly, 98% of the heavy lifting is done by BSK), to dine at two local St. Peters casual landmarks– Rick’s Fish & Chips and Lin’s Takeout. Rick’s steamed local blue mussels (served with a dip of butter,mussel juices and lemon) were sensational–big, plump, juicy, full of sea flavor. Thankfully, last summer’s mussel malaise has ended. Lin’s has the best French fries HG has ever tasted and the generous scallop sandwich is world class. Last PEI meal was at the pretty 21 Breakwater Restaurant in Souris. There are Portuguese touches on the menu (piri piri chicken, Portuguese fish and chips, etc). All tasty. Leave tomorrow for many days of motoring to HG/BSK’s New Mexico home. There will be full reports on HG/BSK’s culinary adventures on the road.

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Some 31 years ago,HG/BSK left New York for a horse ranch in the Rocky Mountain foothills. Then, after almost two decades, moved to a spacious Denver apartment. Now, of course, HG/BSK live in a New Mexico oasis and an oceanfront paradise on Canada’s Prince Edward Island. Lots of serenity, pure air and natural beauty. Peace. Yet, HG sometimes misses the frantic speed of New York. When HG left The Apple for calmer environs, HG noted that everything slowed down. That was obvious when HG began to dine out in the great West: From checkout lines to diners to coffee shops, everything seemed to drag like a leaden balloon punctuated by the cheery (and time consuming) “Have a good one!” that ended seemingly every interaction. On the contrary, going to HG’s New York office, HG would pop into an adjacent coffee shop. “A bialy with a shmear (cream cheese) and a light coffee.” Got it in a flash. Lunch (when in a hurry): “BLT. Whole wheat toast. Mayo. Iced coffee.” Faster than a speeding bullet. Sure, classy restaurants with tablecloths, etc. were properly leisurely. But, in casual eateries you got it fast and got it good. Today, “fast food” means the burger, pizza and taco chains. Crapola. They give speed a bad name.

HG believes it is food snobbism to decry all frozen food. Lots of very good chefs agree with HG that frozen peas are far superior to the fresh peas available in supermarkets (and that includes Whole Foods). HG likes to toss a package into a pot of simmering ravioli or tortellini. (WF carries excellent frozen varieties). Add some grated parmesan and some grinds of black pepper (can also beat an egg into it) and you’ve got true comfort food for a chilly evening. Frozen peas are also good in a risotto or mixed with fettucini, butter, parmesan and prosciutto. WF’s frozen okra are splendid in Bhindi Masala, the lush Indian okra stew. Frozen spinach makes a nice bed for BSK’s pan steamed sole fillets with fried garlic chips. HG always has a bag of WF’s frozen shrimp in the freezer. HG likes the raw, cleaned, shell on variety. They defrost quickly under cold running water. HG dries them and does a quick stir fry in olive oil, sliced garlic and smoked Spanish paprika. Simple and absolutely delicious. They are a staple at Madrid bars. Customers sip sherry, eat the shrimp and spit the shells on the floor. And, that’s why knowing Spanish women don’t wear open toe shoes when bar hopping.

Hey, the land of the free, brave and bigoted is the home of millions of racists, woman haters, war lovers, Il Trumpe worshipers. Yes, it’s got faults. However, there’s some good news. The heartland of the USA used to be a food desert. The chains and “family” restaurants ruled. That has changed. Over the last days, as HG/BSK prepare to leave Prince Edward Island (regretfully) and motor across the country to Santa Fe, HG has been researching restaurants off the major highways the duo (and Toby, The Wonder Dog) will travel. HG has been poring over the choices of Trip Advisor, Yelp and Road Food (Jane and Michael Stern). So far, HG has come up with a Greek restaurant, two Cajun restaurants, a Jewish delicatessen, a seafood restaurant, a Mexcian “fusion” restaurant, a Cuban restaurant and, of course, two barbecue joints. These are lunch or dinner places. For breakfast nothing is better than Waffle House. Be assured. HG will be doing full reports on HG/BSK’s culinary choices.

In a recent post about solitude on the beach in front of HG/BSK’s Prince Edward Island home, HG was guilty (not for the first time) of overstatement. Yes, there are no humans within sight (except for an occasional fishing boat on the horizon) and, thankfully, no autos and their noise and fumes. But, HG is not alone. Toby, The Wonder Dog, is HG’s companion. Toby likes to splash in the sea, race along the bluffs and sniff seaweed, crab shells, etc.. Tiny plover walk the shore, moving swiftly on their skinny legs. Gulls, cormorants and majestic herons are a constant presence. Osprey hover in one spot like helicopters and then dive straight down to snap up their prey. Harrier hawks make an appearance in the afternoon. When HG swims, HG often sees small lobsters scuttling about the bottom. Happily, mosquitoes and flies seem to have abandoned the beach paradise this season.

Sunday, August 21, has been designated Senior Citizens Day. Ouch. HG hates this smarmy euphemism. (HG presumes SC Day, like all special “days”, has been created by corporate interests and that manufacturers of canes, walkers, incontinence underwear, laxatives are probably sponsors of this ludicrous promotional “day”.) HG will be 87 in November (hopefully). HG prefers being called “old”, “old guy”, “old fogey.” Or, if you prefer, “geezer” or “old fart.” The euphonious Yiddish “alteh cocker” is a pleasant, irreverent way to refer to HG.

Sad news. Fyvush Finkel, 93, is dead. Finkel was one of the last of the true Yiddish theater stalwarts — as well as an actor on Broadway, in the movies and on television. Played many roles in “Fiddler On The Roof,” from its Broadway debut in 1964 until it closed in 1972. “Fiddler” kept Fyvush in funds. When it closed, Fyvush had a long run as a “cantankerous lawyer” (as described in his NY Times obituary), in “Picket Fences”, the 1990s TV series. Finkel was the embodiment of “Yiddishkeit” (Yiddish speaking Jewishness). A gifted comedian and storyteller, Fyvush performed before any audience (big and small) that had an affection for “mamalushen” (Yiddish–the mother tongue). He appeared at scores of Florida condominiums and at the few remaining old fashioned hotels in the Catskill Mountains. You can capture some of the essence of Fyvush (and his Jewish waiter jokes) by reading his obit in the Aug. 15, 2016 NY Times and in HG’s’ post, “The Jewish Waiter R.I.P.”, Sept. 25, 2014.

Brilliant Daughter Lesley R. continues to demonstrate her superior culinary chops. Last night there was dinner with Charlottetown friends Neb and Silva. He is a dean at PEI’s university and she is an architect (designed HG/BSK’s oceanfront home). Talented and entertaining couple. Lesley and BSK prepared a variety of “toasts” to accompany wine for the group and stronger spirits for HG. Slices of John the Baker’s baguette (Cardigan Farmer’s Market) were bedecked with anchovies and roast peppers; smoked mackerel with capers and sour cream; mushrooms and truffle cream. Lesley also made her signature shrimp salad using the very tasty Newfoundland cold water shrimp from By the Bay Fish Mart. A great start. Nice preface to the main dish: Lesley’s extraordinary fish sauce composed of fresh halibut (now in season), olive oil, onions, fennel, garlic, white wine, tomatoes and lots of herbs. Served over Calamare, a unique Italian pasta with a shape that mimics calamari rings (thus, the name). Many layers of flavor. It is a dish HG could eat every summer night. For dessert, Lesley baked a fruit cobbler using sour cherries (from Ocean Mist Farm) and blueberries from the field adjacent to HG/BSK’s home. The kitchen Viking oven isn’t functioning so Lesley baked the cobbler in the tabletop toaster/oven. Turned out fine. Flanked by generous amounts of vanilla ice cream it proved a fitting climax to a delightful dinner.