HUNGRY GERALD

July 2 marked the 58th wedding anniversary of HG/BSK. Greedy HG wants 58 more years with BSK, the love of HG’s life and possibly the best woman in the world. BSK’s talents are as voluminous as BSK’s virtues. Not the least of them is BSK’s unceasing efforts to keep HG alive. So far, BSK has succeeded. Time to celebrate at Clam Diggers, the very good seafood restaurant on the scenic waters of the town of Cardigan. Portions are super generous and the cooking is superior. HG/BSK had steamer clams in a delightful broth of clam juice, cream, onions, peppers and spices. A creative dish. This was followed by giant platters of fried seafood with crisp French fries, cole slaw and much tartar sauce. BSK’s platter contained scallops, clams and haddock (enough to feed two or three people). HG had a platter of scallops and shrimp. Abondanza!! HG was very hungry but could barely finish the food. Not exaggerating. This was the best dish of fried seafood HG has ever eaten. Crisp and greaseless. The quality of the scallops and shrimp was impeccable.(BS vouched for her fryup as best ever). Drank Gahan’s Red Ale (a local PEI brew) and toasted the good fortune that has kept HG/BSK together. Clam Diggers has a very good bread pudding dessert but were too sated to indulge. Thoughtful daughter Lesley R. had sent HG/BSK a gift certificate for the dinner but HG/BSK forgot to bring a necessary paper. Good. Will use the gift for a Clam Diggers feast when the family gets together (hopefully) on Prince Edward Island next month.

Prince Edward Island is covered with beautiful fields of purple Lupin. They have tips of pink, white and green. A glorious seasonal sight (alas, Lupin season has a short life). Green thumb BSK gathers Lupin seeds and plants them along HG/BSK’s driveway and in BSK’s garden. The flower is a joyous sight arranged on the dining table in a BSK hand crafted pottery vase (yes, BSK is a Renaissance woman). Surfing the net, HG learned that Lupin has been a food throughout the world for many centuries. Takes much processing to remove harmful elements. HG will pass and just admire Lupin’s decorative qualities.

Lucky HG. Dinner at Ocean Mist Farm, the verdant south shore Prince Edward Island paradise of BSK’s sister, Noel M., and husband, Yossi M. (HG/BSK and N/Y exchange dinners on alternate Sundays). HG dined on two big, fresh from the sea lobsters. Cooked nicely. Lots of melted butter, hot sauce and PEI spuds. Perfect summer dining. BSK, allergic to crustaceans, had an enjoyable meal with gently sauteed local scallops. HG had a lush dessert of vanilla ice cream with Ocean Mist raspberries. The rest of the table had Noel’s rice pudding (made with a generous amount of raisins). HG climaxed his good time with after dinner sips of Canadian whiskey gilded with a few drops of Angostura Bitters.

“Boulevardier”. A wonderful word (American approximation would be “man about town”.) Boulevardier evokes Paris and its lights, Eiffel Tower, fashionable Parisians and Parisiennes, brasseries, restaurants, cafes, museums, galleries, art and architecture. And, of course, the Seine. It is also a cocktail favorite in Paris. HG makes it with one and a half shot glasses of rye whiskey, one shot glass of Campari (or Aperol), one shot glass of sweet vermouth. Mixed and poured over ice. Bartenders squeeze the essence of orange peel over it. HG prefers the citrus tang of some lemon juice. So, play a Django or Piaf CD. Sip a Boulevardier. Dream.

Wondrous BSK had a birthday on June 3. BSK turned 80. Looks decades younger. Beautiful in every way one can be beautiful—in face, form, creativity, energy. And, of course, in love (HG/BSK will be married for 58 years this July). BSK’s love enriches the life of HG, HG/BSK’s children, HG/BSK”s grandchildren. And, all reciprocate that love. A lucky family, indeed. Pandemic restrictions have eased up a bit on Prince Edward Island (yes, we’re still there) so HG/BSK decided to celebrate in a restaurant. Have not dined out in more than a year. Restaurant choice was Clam Diggers, a restaurant with lovely water views, located in the town of Cardigan, a 15 minute drive from HG/BSK’s oceanfront home. Had a splendid meal. For HG: Crab cakes as a starter followed by a lobster roll with an overabundance of lobster (portions are very generous), crisp French fries (made with PEI spuds),cole slaw.. A lavish dessert of cheesecake enrobed in chocolate and topped with whipped cream. For BSK: A big salad of fresh greens from local gardens. A giant platter of fried scallops, fried clams, fried haddock (the local seafood was cooked perfectly, not a drop of grease); French fries and cole slaw. BSK’s dessert was a lush bread pudding. HG drank Gahan’s (PEI brewery)Island Red Ale served in a glass chilled properly.  The best. BSK started with a glass of pinot grigio but then switched to Gahan’s wonder beverage. Much joy. We’ll be back.

Mothers (BSK, Lesley R., Exquisite Maiko) and Stepmother Victoria F. are–deservedly–much loved by their children (and grandchildren). All were honored on Mother’s Day. How about Dads? Well, Father’s Day is upcoming. HG once derided it as commercial exploitation. But, ”as the days dwindle down to a precious few”, HG will accept any plaudits that come HG’s way. Realistic appraisal of HG as Father: Mediocre. Realistic appraisal of SJ as a Father: Superb. His kids, Haru and Teru, are fortunate as is wife, Maiko. Most fortunate is HG because SJ continually amuses, entertains, stimulates with numerous talents. Photographer: Sad Chairs, Hairy Houses and more. Music: Reggae gems. Writing: Oishi Gevalt, the SJ blog, contains some of the best writing about food and the Tokyo atmosphere that HG has ever encountered. Big source of sadness: SJ and family live in Tokyo and you can’t get there by taking the A train and changing at 125th Street. Also–no dining on pastrami, ribs, tasso ham gumbo and other treats at SJ/Maiko’s Freeman Shokudo, their busy izakaya. Saving grace: Facetime. Hope: If Covid 19 allows and health holds out, HG/BSK will try to voyage to Japan.

Happiness!! BSK has made a big pot of “green soup aka empty the fridge soup.” BSK pulled out of the fridge a number of veggies (some a bit over the hill). Leeks, broccoli, spinach, bok choy,tomatoes, lettuce, fennel. Chopped onions, garlic and a handful of cilantro. All were cooked in olive oil until quite softened. Flavored with a host of spices–cardamom, nutmeg, Aleppo pepper (plus sea salt, of course). The mix was long simmered in chicken broth. BSK used an immersion blender to create a silky, smooth, intense soup. A baguette. Butter. A tomato salad. Red wine. The perfect meal for a chilly night. Sometimes the steaming bowls get a garnish of Greek yogurt dusted lightly with cayenne. SJ and wife, Maiko, have “Green Soup” on the menu of their Freeman Shokudo izakaya in Tokyo. Their customers love it (as well as Freeman Shokudo’s dazzling tasso ham gumbo).

HG was browsing the excellent anthology of sports writing from The New Yorker when HG came upon a biographical piece by the Japanese novelist (and short story writer) Haruki Murakami. It was entitled “The Running Novelist.” The tone of the prose was unusual. Low key and matter of fact even though it spoke of unusual accomplishments. Murakami began running when he was in his thirties and has completed 28 marathons and is qualified as a triathlete. Became curious about the writer and did some research. Murakami is acknowledged as a one of the world’s greatest writers. He has been translated into many languages and has millions of readers. He is a possible Nobel candidate. And, while rummaging in HG/BSK’s bookshelves, HG found a book of short stories by Murakami: “The Elephant Vanishes” (plus two novels). Obviously, they were added to the shelves by SJ, HG/BSK’s beloved and gifted son (lives in Tokyo with his family and he and wife, Maiko, own and run Freeman Shokudo, a busy barbecue and beer izakaya.) Well, “The Elephant Vanishes” is astounding. Some of the stories, with their blend of naturalism and fantasy, are reminiscent of Bernard Malamud. Some others are so frightening they make Stephen King seem like Mother Goose. HG is a Murakami addict. Now, on to the novels. Thanks, SJ.

Adam Gopnik’s psychoanalyst, The late Max Grosskurth, often referred to his wife (Grosskurth’s) as a “witty, witty woman.” Well, HG is fortunate. BSK (among manifold virtues) is a “witty, witty woman”. When nutbag Marjorie Taylor Greene (R.-Ga.) proposed that the GOP’s America First Caucus champion “Anglo-Saxon political traditions”, BSK had a pithy comment: “It’s the KKK without sheets.” HG will spare you other BSK rapier thrusts of humor since they are aimed at HG’s numerous misdemeanors. Through osmosis (almost 58 years of marriage to Yiddishist HG), BSK has a smattering of Yiddish. When BSK reads of behavior of Jewish Trump allies, BSK shouts: “Ah shandeh for the goyim !!!”.

HG is fascinated by the insects that visit HG/BSK’s Prince Edward Island oceanfront home. House flies have a life span. They die naturally, not just by swatter attack. Yesterday, the valiant but futile efforts of a weakened fly caught HG’s attention. It was a grim parable of life. Seated on the window sill, the fly made an effort to scale the window to find a warm and sunny spot. The fly would ascend five or six inches (some three feet from the desired location) and fall back to the sill. A minute of rest. Another futile effort. This went on for some fifteen minutes. HG assumed the prone fly was dead. But, no. There was a final effort, a one foot climb. Then, a fall and death. RIP, little guy. Spiders and sow bugs react in the same way when approaching swatter death. First, they lie still. Then, as they finally get the scent of danger, they move fast and HG has to act swiftly to end their pesky life. Ladybugs and caterpillars are oblivious. No matter the circumstance, they just mosey along. BSK is concerned about the nourishment of outdoor critters during these icy days (Spring is showing a mild progress). BSK dumps a platter of leftovers in a secluded spot. A crow on a telephone wire (the “watchcrow”) takes note and makes signals. A flock of crows descend. BSK only hopes some treats are left for a favorite small golden haired fox.