HUNGRY GERALD

One of the shocking aspects, to me, of the Hamas-Israel bloodshed, is the failure of the European intelligentsia and the young “new left” to condemn Hamas for their specifically anti-Jewish ideology (aside from their anti-Zionist ideology) and its cynical use of the suffering civilians of Gaza to gain world sympathy and support. Hamas is a dangerous, ideology-driven terrorist organization. Emory University Professor Deborah E. Lipstadt pointed out in a recent Op-ed piece in the New York Times: Besides calling for the destruction of Israel, “the Hamas charter contains reference to The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a forgery by Czarist officers in 1903 and used by Hitler [and many other Anti-Semitic organizations] as Nazi propaganda. The [Hamas] charter accuses Jews of relying on secret societies to foment global economic and political disasters. It calls on adherents to prepare for ‘the next round with the Jews, the merchants of war.’ ” In addition, Hamas revives some of the oldest anti-Jewish libels. Writes Professor Lipstadt: “When a Hamas spokesman recently stood by his statement that Jews used the blood of non-Jewish children for their matzos, European elites were largely silent.” The plight of the civilian population of Gaza is frightful. While many Israelis sympathize (A recent headline in Haaretz, the Israeli English language newspaper read: “Images From Gaza Should Trouble Every Israeli.”), there are also many Israelis, furious at living with rocket fire, who call for more military ferocity. From my perspective, the people who do not overthrow a zealous government of ideologues eventually pay a terrible price in civilian death. The examples are many. The Germans under the dictatorship of Hitler. The Russians who died from famine, terror, purges and the gulags during the Stalin era. The suffering Chinese who had to endure Mao’s “Cultural Revolution.” I am not an Israeli apologist. I disagree with many Israeli policies and find many Israeli politicians opportunistic. But, I cannot condemn Israel’s violent response to Hamas’s terror attacks. Today’s conflict is not between Israel and the Palestinian people. It is a battle against Hamas terror. Unfortunately, as always, the innocent suffer.

Oh, happy days!! Sweet corn is in season and BSK has the source for the best ever. Every morning, in a shopping center parking lot in the town of Montague, Blum Farms parks a pick up truck laden with freshly picked corn. BSK makes a well-worth-it 20 minute drive from HG/BSK’s Prince Edward Island oceanfront home to grab a dozen or more ears before it all sells off (as it typically does by noon). The corn is sublime: yellow niblets so fresh that each kernel seems to explode with flavor and the sweetness of sugars that haven’t even dreamed of turning to starch. HG/BSK (plus family visitors) eat many ears slathered with butter and sea salt. Extra cooked ears are refrigerated and are used for many dishes including BSK’s sublime corn and clam chowder. Here’s how BSK does it: Lean bacon goes into a sauce pan and before it crisps chopped onions and diced potatoes are added. Salt and Aleppo pepper go into the the sauté as well as a splash of olive oil (if the bacon is very lean). Little neck clams are steamed in clam broth (the clam juice adds potency to the broth). Clams are removed when just barely open. Plucked out of the shells, they are cut in half (if using larger, tougher clams, BSK gives them a sturdy chop). The clam broth and a half cup of whole milk is poured into the deep sauce pan over the bacon-onion-potato mix and simmered until the mineral rich PEI spuds begin to soften. Some chopped thyme adds a nice herbal touch. Clams go into the pan with corn kernels from five ears of corn. When all is heated through the chowder is given a dusting of smoked Spanish paprika or Aleppo pepper (this is optional–favored by HG who likes spicy heat). The dish is a nice fusion of farm and sea, a good metaphor for Prince Edward Island itself.

HG derived vicarious pleasure watching distinguished son-in-law Profesore Massimo R. devour a giant marrow bone at Prince Edward Island’s Terre Rouge bistro (yes, the generous Ufficiale gave HG a taste). Roasted marrow bones have long been served at old time Paris bistros. HG has relished them with a crusty baguette and a carafe of rough red wine in Left Bank rooms perfumed with Gauloise smoke. For years, the health police managed to have them banished from most American restaurants but, thankfully, marrow bones are making a comeback: In the mid 90s Fergus Henderson, the British chef and cookbook author served a dish at his St. John restaurant in London of roasted marrow bones with parsley and capers that was an immediate trend-setter and was soon replicated at New York restaurants like Prune and Blue Ribbon Bakery; now there is hardly a meat-centric New York menu without marrow bones. In older times, bone marrow found a elegant approach as a specialty of the old Oak Room in New York’s Plaza Hotel: A big scoop of bone marrow adorned braised celery which accompanied tournedos and potatoes soufflé. It was one of HG/BSK’s favorite meals. HG once had a very lusty steak, a pave, topped with almost a half inch of bone marrow at some long defunct bistro near the Place de Clichy. Memorable. Bone marrow is frowned upon by cardiologists because it is pure fat and cholesterol, a big time artery clogger. Wickedly delicious, however.

In order to have an insightful and balanced view of the dismal, unending conflict between Israel and its neighbors, HG suggests reading a book published this year: My Promised Land–The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel by Ari Shavit. The author is a columnist for the Israeli newspaper Haaretz and also serves on its editorial board. The book was reviewed on the front page of the New York Times Sunday Book Review and the reviewer said: “Shavit has an un-doctrinaire mind and comes not to praise or to blame, though along the way he does both, with erudition and eloquence; he comes instead to observe and reflect.” The review goes on to say: “It is a Zionist book unblinkered by Zionism. It is about the entire Israeli experience.” The book has made HG reflect about Zionism. Yes, the displacement of Palestinians has been a tragedy (often a tragedy of their own making). But, HG retains his admiration for Zionism. Theodore Herzl witnessed the hatred of Jews that boiled over in France, a civilized European country, during the Dreyfus affair. Herzl realized, as did subsequent Zionist visionaries, that Jews had no future in Europe. Did the Zionists foresee the industrialized murder of millions of Jews by Hitler? Perhaps not, but they did know the destruction of Europe’s Jews was imminent. It was Zionism’s mission to rescue Jews and provide them with a homeland. This is what gave Zionism its urgency. As Shavit notes: “The need was real. The vision was impressive.” Like all nations, Israel was born in blood and fire and maintaining its nationhood has demanded more blood and fire. HG must sadly acknowledge:There has been no other choice.

“Comfort” has now entered the lexicon of gastronomic writing — whole restaurant describe their menus as “updated comfort food” or “comfort food with a twist” or (most depressingly) “luxury comfort food”. Well, in the HG/BSK home, comfort food sticks to its root — beloved dishes that are easy to prepare, often repeated and have the ability to be both familiar and thrilling. One such dish that BSK cooks is a take on Chinese Ma Po Tofu: BSK stir fries (in peanut or canola oil) ground pork with chopped onion, garlic (much); fresh ginger (heaps); frozen peas; sliced mushrooms. Flavors it with chicken broth, Chinese oyster sauce, soy sauce, a bit of Vietnamese fish sauce and dashes of Sriracha. Adds cubes of tofu. Showers the finished dish with chopped scallions. The dish is accompanied by plentiful room temperature angel hair (or other very thin) pasta flavored with sesame oil and chile oil. Belgian endive is nice with this. HG scoops up the pork mixture with these crisp leaves. Happily,BSK makes enough of this “comfort food” to have it for two dinners. Nice in hot weather when HG/BSK don’t want to linger near an oven.

Last night HG reveled in an annual indulgent pleasure: Watching Tampopo, the 1985 Japanese movie directed by the late Juzo Itami. Tampopo is a self described “ramen western,” a deeply self-conscious and Japanese spoof of the “spaghetti western” genre. But, it is much more than a Blazing Saddles, much more than a big bowl of noodle soup. It is a sly, but hilarious, commentary on food, sex, cinema, Japanese corporate structure, culinary pretension…and more. Like a great dish, the film has many layers of flavor. The hero, Goro (Totumo Yamazaki), pays homage to Shane (he wears a cowboy hat and like that solitary, legendary figure, he rides off alone–in his truck rather than on a horse). The heroine, Tampopo (Nobuko Miyamato), is lovable, lovely, innocent and funny. Brilliant. There’s a film within the film starring a gangster in a white suit, his beautiful girl friend and plenty of food, sex, violence. This satire of western romance and gangster movies concludes with a startling last-moments-before-dying elegy (given by the gangster) concerning a wild boar and sweet potato sausage. HG’s favorite section of Tampopo (which HG shares with SJ), is where The Ramen Professor (Ryutoro Otomo) instructs a neophyte in the proper, classic way of eating ramen. Deadpan hilarity (which also make you very hungry for a steaming bowl of ramen). Since the basis of the film is food and nourishment it ends with a beautiful image of loving nourishment: A mother suckling her child.

“If it bleeds it leads.” That’s the operating principle of local TV (and most national) news programs and newspapers. On that basis, Israel is losing the public relations war with Hamas. In Gaza, there are actual dead children, weeping women and maimed and bloody men. Newsworthy and capable of arousing profound emotion. On the Israeli side, there is only footage of a few destroyed buildings. But, very few dead and shattered civilian bodies. Daily fear and disruption is not visual. Yes, there is coverage of the funerals of Israeli soldiers. But, these lack impact. The horrific wars in Vietnam and Iraq have deadened emotions concerning military death. And, there’s an angry Netananyu behind a microphone. Not a big PR plus. Of course, it is not for lack of trying that Hamas isn’t giving Israel PR opportunities. By sheer luck (and Israeli anti-rocket technology) hundreds of Hamas’ rockets haven’t exploded in heavily populated areas. Israel had a better world image when the Hamas military wing, Izz ad-Din-al-Quassan, managed successful suicide bombings that littered Tel Aviv’s streets with Jewish body parts. Hamas has two public relations objectives. For the Arab world (and rival Fatah), Hamas wishes to appear “resolute” and able to “stand up” against Israel For the rest of the world, Hamas wishes to appear as the brutalized victim of Israel (the killer of women and children.) In any case, Hamas is achieving these objectives and winning the PR war. (Curiously, defying logic the suffering population of Gaza does not seem to blame Hamas and its policies for their role in their bloody predicament). The benefits to Hamas from its “victory” seem negligible and the cost in terms of bloodshed is huge. For Israel, punishing Hamas (and the Gaza civilian population) militarily will, in HG’s view, not bring security but only a temporary respite from violence. Is there a solution? Doubtful. There are too many ideologues, religious fanatics, political power seekers involved. The madness will continue since the human capacity for wasteful violence seems limitless. However, we have all been taught that miracles have occurred in this part of the world: Seas have parted and the dead have risen to new life. Time for the miraculous to again make an appearance.

Jonathan Schell, age 70, a brilliant journalist/historian died at his Brooklyn home a few weeks ago. Schell’s work (most of which appeared in The New Yorker and The Nation) aroused emotions in HG, namely anger, fear and sadness. That’s because he wrote about the worst ailments of our time: Global warming, nuclear weaponry, the Vietnam and Iraq wars, the near destruction of the American democracy during the regime of Richard Nixon. Three of his books are essential reading: The Village of Ben Suc (written when Schell was only 24, it sums up the Vietnam madness through one horrifying incident ); The Fate of the Earth, a frightening analysis of the possible end of our planet; The Time of Illusion, the history of the Nixon presidency and its reliance on lies, fear and downright criminality. No, Schell provided little comfort. But, dedicated truth tellers rarely do.

Lots of weather excitement yesterday as Hurricane Arthur roared across the Canadian Maritimes. Nova Scotia bore the brunt with power lost for many homes. Here, on Prince Edward Island, HG/BSK listened to loud winds and watched the sea produce whitecaps and spray. Beautiful. Turned into rain as the day progressed. Electricity went on and off. Fully restored by early afternoon. All was snug as HG read back issues of GRANTA, the wonderful British literary quarterly. BSK constructed a nice foul weather dinner: An Asiatic influenced beef short ribs soup /stew served with Japanese udon noodles and topped with a poached egg. This was followed by a salad and cumin gouda cheese from PEI’s inimitable “Gouda Lady.” HG/BSK let the winds howl as much red wine was poured. Bright sun and moderate winds this morning as Arthur disappeared. Long, invigorating beach walk. Shore was strewn with bits of jellyfish chopped up by the storm. A first: HG found a nice piece of green beach glass. BSK, the champion glass gleaner, found none.

HG/BSK (and family) have been collecting beach glass for more than a half century. They have walked the shores of Fire Island, Nantucket, Cape Cod, West Hampton, East Hampton, Montauk, and, of course, Prince Edward Island. Always on the alert for bits of glass that have been burnished by the sea. It is a gentle and harmless pastime made delightful by sea breezes, salt air and the sounds of the surf. On the antique Chinese sideboard in the entry to HG/BSK’s PEI home are glass containers filled with more than a thousand bits of beach glass. Some months ago there was a charming New Yorker cartoon depicting a couple at the sea shore. Says the man to his lady friend: “You are a piece of blue beach glass.” When HG saw this, HG remarked to BSK: “You are a piece of red beach glass.” Yes, blue beach glass is rare but red beach glass is the ultimate rarity. In years of beach walking, HG has never discovered one. So, you can imagine HG’s excitement today when BSK shouted: “Come quickly. I found it.” Yes, there in BSK hand was the perfect piece of red beach glass. Like the lady, rare and beautiful.