HUNGRY GERALD

Destination: Lewisburg, Pa. (Site of a federal prison and nearby Bucknell University, the late Philip Roth’s alma mater). Hunger seized HG on the road. Not much dining available. Settled for Burger King. Don’t scoff. The burgers are the usual crap. However, the fish sandwiches are a treat. Real fish (not “fish product”) crisply fried. No grease. Bun is layered with lettuce, tomatoes, pickle chips and an adequate tartar sauce. No, not as great as the haddock sandwiches at Rick’s Fish and Chips in St. Peters, Prince Edward Island. but, quite tasty. Stayed at an upscale Holiday Inn. BSK worked out in the fitness center and followed with BSK’S usual super hot shower. HG swam many laps in the warm indoor pool and soothed HG’s mature muscles in a hot tub. HG/BSK took their raging appetites to the Reba and Pancho Restaurant. Shared a “Skinny Pizza.” Super crisp and topped with a quality mix of mozzarella and tomatoes. BSK followed this with gently sauteed haddock served over a salad of Canellini beans and fried Calamari. It was knit together with a sauce of mint, parsley, olive oil and butter. BSK pronounced the dish inventive and delicious. On PEI, fresh haddock will get this treatment. Can hardly wait. HG dined on a juicy crab cake floating on spicy chile broth enriched by a julienne of garden vegetables. Drank Spanish Rioja. Back at Holiday Inn, HG completed a perfect day by sipping bourbon and watching the Warriors snatch a victory in the NBA playoffs after falling far behind.

Yes, HG/BSK (plus Toby, The Wonder Dog), are on the road again (thanks, Willie). Destination: Prince Edward Island and HG/BSK’s ocean front paradise. But, first HG/BSK will stop at Providence, the base for HG/BSK’s New York/Atlanta festivities (you will learn more in coming days). First-day lunch was a Subway wrap consumed in the car. Messy. Never again. Hate eating in the car. Food dribbles on HG’s clothing. Dinner was at Kwan’s Kitchen in Quail Springs, an Oklahoma City burb. Was great on the last visit. Now it’s uneven. Had super-sized pork pot stickers. Flavorless. Peking duck. Excellent thin pancakes to wrap the meat which, alas, was quite dry. BSK liked a platter of fried string beans with gently fried rectangles of potato.HG thought it so-so. The bonanza (at least for HG ) of the evening, was a platter of shrimp dim sum. Shu mai. Shrimp balls. Other fried and steamed shrimp delights. Best dim sum ever (and HG has consumed much New York, Brooklyn and Flushing dim sum). Sadly, BSK is allergic to shrimp (and other crustaceans) so BSK could only observe HG’s pleasure, Did that with customary grace.

Adam Gopnik of The New Yorker Magazine is the best essayist in America. He is the author of many illuminating books (his book on his family’s days in Paris is HG’s favorite) and contributes to the musical theater as a lyricist and librettist. His latest New Yorker essay is titled “The Takeback.” Using a positive review of a new book by Henry Louis Gates, Jr., “Stony the Road: Reconstruction, White Supremacy, and the Rise of Jim Crow,” Gopnik analyzes the failure of Reconstruction after the Civil War to provide true black citizenship. Gopnik refers to the late, great African-American intellectual and historian, W.E.B. Du Bois, who said the interests of poor southerners were ideological and tribal rather than economic. Du Bois noted that poor southern whites “would rather have low wages than see colored labor with a decent wage” and “every advance of the Negro is a threat to their white racial prerogatives.” Gopnik writes “It is the same sort of formula of feeling that makes today’s ‘white working class’ angrier at the thought that Obamacare might be subsidizing shiftless people of color than receptive to the advantages of having medical coverage for itself. Du Bois called it a ‘psychological wage,’ but this is to give a Marxist-sounding name to a non-Marxist phenomenon: ethnic resentment and clan consciousness are more powerful than economic class. It reflects the permanent truth that all people, including poor people, follow their values, however perverted, rather than their interests, however plain.” HG believes this is the American dilemma that makes a Trump possible.

Vodka was a significant part of HG’s Belorussian heritage. HG’s late, beloved father, Hershele Zvi Freimann, grew up in the small town of Smulovich. HG’s late, beloved mother, Chyka Kopkind, grew up in the “shtetl” of Plestyanitz. Smulovich was more urban. Tragically, the Jews in these places were murdered by the Nazis. (HG had a very aged cousin who survived and was the subject of a documentary some dozen years ago filmed by HG’s cousins from Paris and Madrid). The Freimann family was modestly prosperous. They owned a flour mill and a vodka distillery. Plus a tiny glove factory. This was destroyed in a pogrom after the Russia-Japan War. Local Russian officials claimed Jews were to blame for Russia’s humiliating defeat. The angered, mostly drunken, peasants spared the mill and the distillery. After all, flour and vodka were essential to life. Gloves were a luxury item. On horseback, HG’s father (nicknamed “Grisha”) delivered vodka to the local taverns. He used a two-horse wagon to transport wheat, flour, and potatoes. After “Grisha” and his brother, Fykel, migrated to the United States their brothers who remained in Belorussia asked “Grisha” and Fykel (in 1910) to relinquish their ownership in the mill and distillery. They were glad to comply. All members (spare one) of the Belorussian family (and the properties) were destroyed by the Nazis. Curiously, “Grisha” and his family never drank vodka either in Belorussia or the United States. They associated the spirit with drunken (and periodically murderous) peasants. The Freimann drink was brandy–cherry (vishniak) or plum (slivovitz). Potent stuff that was drunk at dinner with cups of black tea from the samovar. Wine was unheard of (except at the Passover seder). HG has had a long love affair with vodka. It’s HG’s drink with caviar, smoked fish, boiled potato with schmaltz herring and sour cream. “Grisha” always had his potato and salty herring with beer and a shot of rye whiskey. HG drinks beer only as a chaser. For some years, HG drank vodka on the rocks as a pre-dinner cocktail. Unfortunately, there was a tendency to overindulge. This led to some harsh words from BSK, the person who had to pick up HG when HG fell to the floor. The result: No vodka for HG for the last two and 1/2 months. Doesn’t miss it. Rosé wine. White wine with a dash of Aperol. Icy Negroni (tiny bit of bourbon, sweet vermouth, Campari, orange bitters). These have replaced vodka. BSK smiles.

On the way back to HG/BSK’s Santa Fe County home there was a stop at the Carmine Lonardo’s Italian Delicatessen in Denver (Florida and Wadsworth). The house-made Italian fennel sausages were widely touted. Bought sausage, head cheese, Genoa salami, pancetta, pasta. How did they rate? HG is a big fan of head cheese, jambon persille, and similar charcuterie. This was the best head cheese HG ever tasted. Been having it as an appetizer with a dollop of Dijon mustard. The salami was excellent. The pancetta was very rustic. A bit chewy. The much-heralded sausages? HG didn’t taste any fennel. Sausage didn’t seem to have the juiciness of a New York Italian sausage. Will give them another try before passing judgment.

240 Union in Lakewood, Colorado, is one of the best and most reliable, consistent, inventive, friendly restaurants in the United States. It was HG/BSK’s dining choice on their whirlwind trip to Denver. Michael Coughlin is the owner/host/maitre d’. The distinguished white-haired gentleman is a hands-on guy. He is all over the room in perpetual motion. He helps the servers, the table clearers, explains menu items to diners, guides wine selections. Michael knows wine. He has assembled “20 for 28”. That is a selection of 20 wines (red and white and all splendid) that sell for a modest $28. Wine drinker heaven. Cocktails are not neglected. HG began his dinner at 240 with a delicious Negroni (BSK, who abhors cocktails asked for a sip and approved). On to the food. After BSK finished a glass of sprightly pinot grigio, sommelier BSK selected a robust cabernet from Hogue Cellars in Washington. BSK’s appetizer was a beet salad with goat cheese. HG chose beef carpaccio with capers, red onions, mustard aioli, and parmesan. BSK’s main was Dayboat sea scallops (the lush dish was served with spaghetti squash, tomatoes, prosciutto and a dash of limoncello). HG chose a whole roasted Branzino. The crisp-skinned fish rested on a bed of creamy mashed potatoes (there’s also an option of smashed potatoes with onions and red peppers) and topped with garlic aioli. HG can assert, without reservations, that this was the best fish dish HG has ever tasted. HG/BSK could make only modest dents at the tasty desserts (key lime pie and sticky toffee pudding). 240 Union is not only a very good restaurant. It is the business, political, social center of populous Jefferson County. When HG/BSK lived and worked in the area it was their daily choice for lunch. BSK met clients there and plotted political, government and economic strategy. HG collaborated with BSK but also lunched at Palm Restaurant in downtown Denver which was more convenient for journalists (and there was a flattering caricature of HG on the restaurant wall). Underscoring 240’s political importance, Lesley Dahlkemper and Mike Feeley. stopped by the HG/BSK dinner table at 240. Lesley and Mike are two Colorado luminaries. Lesley is a progressive Democrat and a recently elected Jefferson County Commissioner. This is a very important position in Colorado and Colorado should be grateful that this wonderful woman is a political winner. Mike has been a long term leader among Colorado Democrats. A lawyer, Mike is a member of one of Denver’s most prestigious law firms. Lesley is carrying the family’s political banner aloft. HG/BSK enjoyed the brief but joyous reunion with the illustrious husband and wife duo.

HG/BSK began living in Colorado in 1985 (part-time) and full time in 1986. First on a 100-acre horse ranch some 9,100 feet above sea level in unincorporated Jefferson County. It was a mountainous area between the towns of Golden and Black Hawk. (Yes, HG/BSK had as many as six horses, rode the scenic mountain trails for hours and took equestrian lessons from BSK’s talented sister, Noel. She was a Colorado neighbor back then and, with her husband, Yossi, is now a happy permanent resident of Prince Edward Island some miles from HG/BSK’s PEI oceanfront paradise). BSK’s very effective environmental and political activism led HG/BSK back into the public relations business which grew into a formidable enterprise. Thus, HG/BSK said a sad farewell to their horse pals and moved to Denver. New residence was a fabulous full floor apartment resembling a New York Park Avenue residence transplanted a few blocks from the Colorado Governor’s Mansion. Some of the apartment features: 3,200 feet of space; private elevator landing; huge living/dining room with a wood burning fireplace tucked into a wall of white marble; two big bedrooms; wood paneled library/TV room; built-in living room mirrored wet bar with space for glasses, mixers, spirits, and wine; large kitchen with spacious dining area and lots of light; large, windowed terrace with built-in grill and dumbwaiter–HG/BSK would unload groceries into the dumbwaiter which was adjacent to HG/BSK/’s indoor parking spot. Some more apartment features: Three baths; closets galore; laundry area with washer, dryer, and shelving. Residents were given notice. The building was to be completely reconstructed and converted to condominiums. So, off to Santa Fe and the Land of Enchantment (and green chile). Incidentally, HG/BSK’s apartment is now valued at about $2,000,000. HG/BSK chatted about these memories as they battled the traffic to the suburb of Stapleton. When HG/BSK arrived in Denver, Stapleton was the friendly, mid-sized airport conveniently close to the city. (Miles away, the huge Denver International Airport has replaced it). Now Stapleton is a diverse residential community of 19,000 with schools, office buildings, hospitals, restaurants, markets, etc. Have to give the developers credit. They’ve given a neighborly feel to the houses on small plots of land and the architecture ranges from conventional to mid-century and cutting edge contemporary. There’s housing for every lifestyle and budget (including some five-bedroom, 4.5 bath homes selling at close to $1,000,000). Many parks, playgrounds, walking and cycling trails. Don’t want to live there but it seems much better than the developer horrors that continue to despoil the American landscape. Managed to get a quick lunch at Mici, the Stapleton location of a four-restaurant Italian food chain. Surprisingly good food and the luncheon special is a bargain. The sum of $8.75 buys you 1/2 of a 10-inch pizza or 1/2 of a Ciabatta sandwich plus a bowl of soup. HG had Giardino, a pizza with mushrooms, garlic, roasted red pepper, spinach, artichokes, zucchini, mozzarella. Soup was Fagioli, white beans with chicken broth, spinach, Parmigiano-Reggiano. BSK had Pomodoro, creamy crushed tomato soup, fresh basil, and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Both soups were accompanied by ample garlic bread. BSK’s Ciabatta sandwich was Toscana, chicken breast (hormone free); pesto, fontina, sun-dried tomatoes. HG/BSK thought they were getting snacks but it turned into a lavish meal. (HG would have transported gallons of the bean soup back to New Mexico if it were possible. It had a true Tuscan soul).

HG/BSK are in Denver for a whirlwind one day, two-night visit. Alas, no time to see dear friends like the Craggs and others. Gentle, quirky Denver, a city that had “cowtown” charm, is no more. Explosive growth. Scores and scores of glass office towers. Thousand of apartments, sprawling residential developments. Traffic is a nightmare. Bumper to bumper everywhere. No shortcuts. Maddening. Stayed in a very pleasant new hotel, Fairfield Inn, in the Lakewood suburb. Big, comfortable beds. Comfy pillows and warm comforters. Very quiet. Very clean.Nice indoor pool and whirlpool with strong jets. Modest prices. In addition to the usual Holy Bible, the bedside drawer contained The Book of Mormon. HG searched in vain for a Koran and a Hebrew book of prayer. Ecumenical failure.

HG has written often about the pleasures of eating in Rhode Island. Best clams in the world. Good (when in season) oysters. Squid. Hearty, cheap ethnic restaurants. And, of course, the cuisine of HG/BSK’s daughter, Gifted Lesley R. When in the Ocean State, don’t miss: Rhode Island clam chowder, clear, briny, full of clams and without the tomatoes of Manhattan style or the white glop of New England clam chowder; fried squid with hot peppers (official dish of the state); Del’s Frozen Lemonade, the ultimate antidote for heat and thirst. Lunch at rough and ready Flo’s Clam Shack. HG is ambiguous about New York System Wieners. These are short hot dogs, tucked in a steamed bun and topped with meat sauce, chopped onions and mustard. Interesting, but not as good as a traditional Katz’s (of New York) dog with sauerkraut. Clam cakes should be avoided (in HG’s opinion, they are nothing but lumps of fried dough with no discernible taste of clam), Stuffies are clams stuffed with bread crumbs and chopped clams. The bread crumbs overwhelm the clams. Far inferior to HG/BSK’s Clams Casino. Rhode Islanders love doughnuts (witness their waistlines) and consume more per capita than any other state. Seems there is a Dunkin’ Donuts shop wherever you look. The Dunkin’ Donuts sports stadium is known as “The Dunk.” They also love coffee syrup and use it to flavor milk, ice cream and milkshakes. HG/BSK thinks this is a bad dietary choice.

HG Read Vasily Grossman’s essay, “The Hell of Treblinka”, yesterday. Grossman commented about the essay: “If it is difficult to read, it was equally difficult to write.” Some 700,000 to 900, 000 Jews (mostly from Poland) plus 2,000 Romani were murdered at this Nazi extermination center in Poland. Gassed, incinerated and buried. Grossman, war correspondent of the Soviet Army newspaper, Red Star, during World War Two, was the first journalist to view and write about Treblinka. His account is so vivid, detailed and frightening that it leaves the reader shaken. Stalin waged an incessant attack on Grossman since writing about the Holocaust was viewed, by Stalin, as forbidden “exceptionalism.” Soviet policy was not to single out the victims of the Holocaust as Jews, only Soviet citizens. (Trump followed Stalin’s policy in his first statements about the Holocaust when he made no mention of Jews). Among the Treblinka horrors detailed by Grossman are not only the mass murders, but the individual killings of Jewish men and children. It is hard to believe these German and Ukrainian perpetrators were human rather than a sub species of monster (one delighted in ripping the heads off living children). Reading about Treblinka gives an insight into Israel’s intransigent “Never Again” policies.