HG/BSK are luxuriating in a La Quinta hotel on highway I-55 In Collinsville, IL, just a few miles east of St.Louis. Have completed half of the 2,100 mile trip to Providence. The road amenities in the United States continue to delight HG/BSK. La Quinta is the favorite road lodging. Big, clean rooms. Comfy beds. Flat screen TV. Hot shower with good water pressure and lots of fluffy towels. WiFi, of course. Ice maker just a few steps down the hall. Civilized living at a modest price (Free breakfast, too). This a far cry from the hotel accommodations in France and Italy. Tiny rooms. Big prices. Inferior plumbing. Plus, a free, ample supply of cockroaches. That’s why HG/BSK always rent apartments when abroad. Another great American road classic is Waffle House. Always a joy. Today, HG lunched on some savory high cal stuff: Two buttery, softly scrambled (as requested) eggs; greaseless and crisp hash browns topped with fried onions; bowl of grits; toast; jam, orange juice; a few cups of coffee. Weight watcher BSK had a salad topped with grilled chicken. BSK lauded the chicken as flavorful and juicy plus the salad was dressed with a pleasant vinaigrette. Drank unsweetened ice tea. (In mid-America and the South, ice tea is served unsweetened or sweetened. The sweetened is cloying.) Next La Quinta visit is tomorrow night in Columbus, Ohio. Midpoint between St.Louis and Columbus is Indianapolis, home of Shapiro’s Jewish Delicatessen. Looking forward to an old fashioned heartburn.
The psychological state known as depression is frightening. It is a plunge into a black hole of despair. It has nothing to do with a person’s real life accomplishments or happy human relationships. Winston Churchill suffered from depression. He called these periods “the black dogs.” Depression caused the distinguished author William Styron to become suicidal and thus hospitalized. During HG’s younger years, there were intermittent periods of depression. Happily, no depression for many, many decades (due to BSK’s loving help and companionship plus some very modest pharmaceutical aids). However, the current state of American politics (Does Trump foretell the end of our Democracy?); the bloody maelstrom of the middle east; American racism and Islamic craziness, all make HG gloomy. No, not depression. Just bouts of the blues. For HG, the cure is Youtube. An interlude of watching some favorites chases away the blues and restores HG to HG’s usual happy state. Permit HG to recommend some to you: Young Robert Morse in excerpts from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying and old Robert Morse doing a charming song and dance version of “The Moon Belongs To Everyone, The Best Things In Life Are Free,” from the Mad Men series. Donald O’Connor doing his madcap version of “Be a Clown” from Singing In The Rain. Liza Minelli and Mikhail Baryshnikov “On Broadway.” The dazzling Nicholas Brothers dance routines from various movies. Nina Simone singing and playing My Baby Only Cares For Me. Eddie Cantor singing same song in a movie excerpt plus his version of “Making Whoopee.” Al Jolson and Ruby Keeler in a surreal film version of “A Quarter to Nine.” Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner, masters of improv. Madeline Kahn doing a Marlene Dietrich satire, “I’m Tired”, in “Blazing Saddles.” Ending the list is Myron Cohen, the all-time best teller of jokes and the supreme Jewish dialectician. The little bald guy with the big ears always makes HG laugh.
Thursday was Cinco de Mayo, a major fiesta in Hispanic New Mexico. HG celebrated at El Parasol, the delightful little restaurant on Highway 285 in Pojoaque (six minutes from HG/BSK’s home). HG’s favorite dish there is green chile menudo but, given its high cholesterol level, HG has to limit the intake of this lush treat. So, HG had a big bowl of the home made green chile stew with warm tortillas. Fiery and savory. HG ate on the sunny restaurant terrace with Toby, The Wonder Dog, at HG’s side. Little fellow was much admired by staff and diners. Toby accompanied HG to the bank where he was given a substantial dog biscuit as a Cinco de Mayo treat. The doggy is now a fan of the financial sector. The dinner theme tonight was Japanese/Chinese. BSK sliced a pork tenderloin into thin slices. Further thinned them by putting them between sheets of wax paper and pounding them with a rubber hammer. Now they were ready to become Tonkatsu. BSK dipped the thin little cutlets in beaten egg and panko crumbs. Fried until golden in hot canola oil. Meanwhile, HG made a “Chinese Grandmother’s treat.” Boiled some wide egg noodles. Sauced them with a hot/sweet sauce of green onions, butter, garlic, oyster sauce, Maggi seasoning, brown sugar and a discreet amount of sambal. BSK added crunch to the meal with a salad of sliced fennel and radishes. HG drank Guiness Stout. Perfect quaff with this collaborative effort between HG and BSK.
The sun sizzled on St. Pete Beach today but it did not dull the appetites of HG/BSK and family. Brunch at The Frog Pond. Big plates of waffles, pancakes, eggs and grits (best grits ever), quiche, biscuits and gravy. Big culinary departure for HG who usually breakfasts on juice, coffee and oat cereal. Doesn’t eat until dinner. In and out of the warm sea all day. Splashed among the gentle waves with Haru, Teru, SJ and BSK. The essence of innocent fun. Despite the big brunch everyone was ready for some big time eating when the sun went down. Off to Cedars Restaurant in the Seminole neighborhood. Down home Lebanon cuisine. Halal meat. Hookahs on the outdoor tables. Wanted to taste everything so ordered baba ganoush, labneh, feta cheese with chopped tomatoes, hummus, tabouleh, salads. Excellent tastes. Perfect after toasting on the sunny beach. Main dish was kebabs (chicken, beef, ground lamb) on a bed of rice with grilled vegetables and a bowl of tzatsiki. Much, much food. All good, The garlicky chicken and the rare grilled steak were solid winners. Drove back to our vacation condo for salt caramel gelato and (for HG) a nightcap of Jim Beam bourbon. Nice finale to our last beach day. Back to The Land of Enchantment tomorrow. Hope Toby, The Wonder Dog, hasn’t lost his heart to Ina G., the charming jewelry designer, who has been HG/BSK’s temporary house sitter. HG/BSK miss Toby, their feisty, furry little friend.
Perfect beach day. Bright sun. Cloudless blue sky. Modest breeze making the heat comfortable. Inviting sea. Gentle waves and warm water. HG read Hemingway’s book about Paris, A Moveable Feast. Conclusion one: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ford Madox Ford, Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound were all certifiably crazy. Conclusion Two: HG admires Hemingway’s prose craftsmanship. His account of a trip with Fitzgerald is brilliant. His generosity toward that troubled man is admirable. Despite that, HG finds Hemingway personally unpalatable–homophobic, ludicrously suspect macho. HG/BSK, Haru, Teru and SJ spent much time carousing in the gentle sea. HG ended the glorious beach day with a soak in the hot tub. HG and family were ravenous after hours of fun. So, it was back to reliable Keegan’s in the Indian Shores neighborhood of St. Pete Beach. Seated immediately. HG had the stupendous sea scallop ceviche washed down with an icy beer, Followed by charbroiled octopus. Best ever. Superlatively tender and full of flavor. SJ had a cup of the creamy She Crab Chowder. The group devoured Prince Edward Island mussels, conch fritters, fried calamari, grouper sandwiches, loads of French fries and cole slaw. HG had a generous platter of warm Gulf shrimp dipped in melted butter and dotted with Keegan’s hot sauce. Finished with hearty gumbo. Wonderful food. Friendly, efficient service. Keegan’s never disappoints.
Dinner at Guppy’s On The Beach Seafood Grill (in the Indian Rocks neighborhood of St. Pete Beach) was an up and down (mostly down) experience. Guppy’s is a large, popular restaurant with outdoor and indoor seating. HG chose indoor (an error). Seated in a bleak air conditioning chilled room. Historic photos on the wall of historic Indian Rocks bathing beauties (in one piece suits) was a nice touch. Ordered a pitcher of sangria. Eeks, horrors!! The restaurant tampered with the classic recipe and added loads of cinnamon (also some cloves). Smelled like a men’s room deodorant with overtones of potpourri in a New England tourist gift shop. Undrinkable. Replaced the witches brew with cold Stella Artois beer. After a lengthy wait HG and SJ were served bowls of hot and spicy fish chowder. Caribbean tastes. Heartening. Twenty minute wait. A bowl of plump, tasty Prince Edward Island mussels in a broth enhanced by tomatoes, greens and garlic finally arrived. Light at the end of a tunnel. Mood became optimistic. A 25 minute wait quenched the happy mood. HG rose to complain. Waitperson said she’d inform management. Rest of the meal arrived in a rush. Strange food. The dishes were over elaborate with too many ingredients on each plate. Festoons of shaved carrots. Slivers of olives. Sauces that did not enhance. Truffled mashed potatoes that tasted chemical. Fried green tomatoes and fried oysters destroyed by heavy breading. Broiled octopus (tender and good quality) that were savory after all the redundant sauce was scraped away. “Lobstercargot” failed. This was a dish served in a traditional escargot plate, little chunks of lobster in a traditional garlic and butter sauce. Something went wrong. Cheese (possibly cream) was added to the sauce. Glop. At end of the meal, very personable manager appeared and removed sangria and chowders from the bill. Apologized for the delays. Consolation for the bad meal was the very modest expense.
HG/BSK plus SJ, Handsome Haru and delicious little Teru, are busy having sun and sea fun at the RAM SEA CONDO complex in the North Redington Beach neighborhood of St. Petersburg, Fla. The group has a nice and big beachfront space (three bedrooms and two bathrooms plus laundry room) with a spacious terrace overlooking the sea. Only thing missing is Exquisite Maiko. HG/BSK’s talented daughter-in-law is running ONI SAUCE at the Brooklyn Smorgasburg and delighting the crowds with her fabulous Japanese fried chicken, Gobo Chips and Beef Skewers all drenched in her incredible Chili (Rayu) and Onion sauces (also for sale). So, Florida fun this year without EM. Lots of sun and swimming today. Ocean water is warm and friendly. Ended sun fun with a hot tub soak and bracing shower. Raging dinner appetites. Off to Keegan’s Seafood Grille for a feast. Scallop ceviche. Conch fritters. Steamed, warm Gulf shrimp with melted butter. Gumbo. Broiled grouper with cole slaw and French fries. Fried calamari. Oysters–raw and steamed. (This was only disappointment. Not as tasty as last year’s bivalves. Must be getting them from another source). Back to the apartment for salt caramel gelato, almond honey crunch and bourbon whiskey. Joy. Joy. Joy.
As you all know, there are plenty of Jewish jokes; however, there are only a few Jewish jokes about food. Maybe food is so important to Jews (including HG) that it can’t be a laughing matter. Plenty of Jewish waiter jokes: “Customer: There’s a fly in my soup. Waiter: So, how much can it drink?”“Customer: Is the brisket good? Waiter: Too good for you.”“Customer: Taste the soup. Waiter: What’s wrong? It’s no good? Customer: Taste the soup. Waiter: Everybody loves this soup. Customer: Taste the soup. Waiter: Okay, give me your spoon. Customer: AH HAH!!!” There’s the Catskills hotel classic. A woman complains:”The food here is terrible. And, such small portions.”(Woody Allen used the joke as a parable for human life). Jews are irreverent about authority figures, even religious authorities (Okay, this isn’t true about the Chassids). There are lots of Rabbi jokes but few about food. Only two that HG knows: Aged Rabbi decides he should taste pork before he dies. Goes to a distant restaurant where he isn’t known. Looks at menu. Orders suckling pig. It is presented to him on a platter with an apple in the piglet’s mouth. At that moment the president of his synagogue enters. “This is terrible. What are you doing, Rabbi? The Rabbi responds: “I ordered a baked apple and look what they brought me!!!” The other concerns a confessional chat between a Rabbi and Priest on a plane. The punchline: “Beats the hell out of bacon, doesn’t it, Father?” You can fill in the rest.
During HG’s young years, HG’s late, beloved father, Hershele Zvi Freimann (anglicized at Ellis Island to “Harry Freeman”), would arrive home after work in a breathless state. It was a long, uphill trudge from the Bronx’s 170th Street subway station (later the Kingsbridge station). Hershele hung up fedora and coat. Opened the refrigerator to get a piece of schmaltz (or home pickled) herring. Tore off a hunk of pumpernickel bread (Pechter’s or Stuhmer’s). Poured a substantial glass of Park & Tilford rye whiskey (tiny glass for little HG). Hershele and HG clinked glasses and said: “L’chaim !! (To Life). Hershele knocked off the big glass in one mighty gulp and followed it with the herring/pumpernickel chaser (HG opted for a small piece of bread). Yes, immigrant Jews like Hershele enjoyed alcohol. The pre-dinner drink was known as a “brumfen.” At the end of dinner, a dessert of fruit compote was served with a glass of home brewed “vishniak” (cherry brandy). Thus, HG grew up believing alcohol was part of dining. Hershele (and HG in later life) always accompanied spirits with food. HG sips bitters and soda before a meal with one or two shrimp, ceviche from the Pojoaque (New Mexico) Super Market, or a simple, salted cracker. Wine accompanies dinner and HG sips an after dinner TV-watching-snifter of brandy (or Scotch) with a sweet: peanut brittle or Belgian Butter Cookies. Tonight, HG’s meal will be an homage to much missed Hershele. There will be a bottle of icy Aakavit on the table plus dark ale brewed by New Mexico monks. Two kinds of herring: Pickled and Matjes. Gefilte fish and Jewish Rye Bread (both from New York’s Zabar’s via visiting Peter Hellman). Sliced sweet onions (from Texas). Boiled potatoes. Sour cream. For dessert: a thin slice of New York cheese cake with a snifter of brandy. HG will raise his glass of Aakavit and say “L’chaim !!. With a second glass, HG will raise it and say: “To your blessed memory, beloved Hershele.”
Dave Frishberg, the witty singer/song writer/musician, now an LA resident and formerly a New Yorker, is often asked that question. So he wrote a song: “Do You Miss New York?”. And, the answer, of course is: Yes!! HG/BSK have lived in the Western United States (Colorado and New Mexico) and Canada (Vancouver and Prince Edward Island) for the last 31 years. BSK does not miss New York (or New Jersey). HG has complex feelings. There’s nostalgia, of course. HG is nostalgic about the Upper West Side in the sixties. Movie houses. Street scenes (old Holocaust survivors; junkies; professors; musicians; writers; sex workers; crazies; burglars). Apartments (huge and cheap). Food (Zabar’s, Barney Greengrass, Citarella’s, Nevada Meat Market, Broadway Nut Shop, etc.). Dining (Fleur de Lis; Paramount Famous Dairy; Gitlitz Delicatessen; Tip Toe Inn; many good, cheap Chinese and Cuban joints.) HG got a jolt recently while watching Mad Men. Roger and Joan get away from Madison Avenue and dine at Tip Toe Inn (set designers did a great job). They are mugged after their meal. Yes, that was a possibility on the old West Side before the real estate monsters and condo-maniacs chewed up the neighborhood. Zabar’s, Barney G. and Citarella’s remain. All else is gone. Today’s New York? It’s a place where foreign bad guys hide their money and a family has to earn a million bucks a year to enjoy an upper-middle class life (Condo or coop; housekeeper/nanny; summer home; private school for the kids.) HG/BSK had all of those things on $40,000 (or less) a year. Didn’t have a coop but paid $292 a month for a huge apartment (big living room with view of the Hudson River and The Palisades; separate formal dining room; modest windowed kitchen; four bedrooms; three bathrooms.) Read it and weep. There are things about the New York of 2016 that HG loves. The museums are still great (the new Whitney on the West Side and the Met Breuer on Madison are grand additions). Strolling on the High Line. HG daughter Victoria and husband /chef Marc Meyer’s four superior downtown restaurants: Rosie’s (Mexican); Vic’s (Italian); Cookshop and Hundred Acres (farm to table ingredients, American with Mediterranean flavors). Good value, wonderful food, deft service, joyous atmosphere. Dining with SJ in Flushing (Chinese and Korean) and the Forest Hills neighborhood of Queens (robust Uzbekistan cuisine). HG’s annual lunch with Victoria at Balthazar, better than any Paris brasserie. Shopping with BSK at Uniqlo. Gallery and museum hopping with BSK. Wandering (and eating) in Brooklyn, much hipper than Manhattan. HG/BSK mourn that they can’t eat at Oni Sauce, the fabulous Japanese home cooking and Asian sauce stand daughter-in-law Exquisite Maiko Sakamoto (and partner) are running at Smorgasburg, Brooklyn’s famous al fresco food court. So, does HG miss New York? Not often, but sometimes.
