BSK Tweaks

May 15th, 2020 § 0 comments § permalink

HG loves BSK’s cuisine and that’s because The Wonder Woman always adds an original tweak to her dishes that makes them sing. Okay. Polenta (or grits): BSK adds Hatch green chile cheese curds for a bit of bite and cheesiness (plus parmesan) and cream cheese (for creaminess). Congee: Ginger, garlic, shitake mushrooms (cooked to a silky goodness) plus a surprise. Bonito flakes. Pork chops: Heavy dusting of Goya Adobo. Serves them with Goya black beans (the best) topped with chopped onions. These usually get a dollop of sour cream. BSK gives them some spoonfuls of Mexican crema. Big lift for the beans.

Poached Perfection

May 12th, 2020 § 0 comments § permalink

Glance down at the illustration. That’s the breakfast dish BSK presented to lucky (and hungry) HG this morning. Pay attention to to those perfect poached eggs. Slightly firm whites. A touch of a fork and yellow golden lush yolks pour over the yellow grits. Oh, my!! The grits are perfectly moist and lush with a wee bit of heat. Yes, that’s the distinctive BSK touch. BSK cooks the grits with Beehive Cheese Company’s Hatch Chile Curds. This brings a Canadian touch (cheese curds are an essential ingredient of poutine, the odd gravy-over-curds combo that’s a Canadian obsession). The New Mexico ingredient is, of course, the green chile. The dish is another original BSK culinary wonder.

Mother’s Day

May 10th, 2020 § 0 comments § permalink

When HG’s children, Lesley and Jeremy, were young, HG denigrated Mother’s Day as one more crass ploy to stimulate consumerism. Over the years, HG has had a change of mind. After all, in this frightening, dismal world of a murderous pandemic and a fascist fool President, why eliminate a day that celebrates motherhood? So, let’s honor BSK. Besides BSK’s almost limitless skills and talents, BSK is the ultimate Mother, a source of comfort, advice, romantic counsel and more (much, much more) for HG/BSK’s children and grandchildren. Fortunately, BSK’s nurturing quality has been extended to HG for almost 57 years of marriage. Without BSK’s constant care and devotion, HG would not be writing this. HG would be a memory.

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HG’s late Mom, Ida Kopkind Freeman, fed growing HG cuisine ranging from the celestial to the abysmal. Celestial soups: In hot weather, there was icy beet borscht and “schav” (sorrel soup). Both served with a boiled potato, sour cream and chopped onions and radishes. In cold weather: Chicken soup with noodles or “kasha” (buckwheat groats) or fluffy matzo balls. Sometimes all three. “Kapusta” (robust Russian meat and cabbage soup). Mushroom and barley (little HG’s fave). Celestial appetizers: Chopped liver (heavy on lush chicken fat). Gefilte fish (with fiery fresh horseradish grated by HG). “Kreplach” (Jewish dumplings fried in chicken fat). Celestial main dishes: Brisket (“gehdempteh brust” in Yiddish). Sweet and sour stuffed cabbage. Celestial “dairy dishes”: Blintzes; broad egg noodles with pot cheese, kosher salt and cracked black peppercorns; potato “latkes” with sour cream (never apple sauce); matzo brei. Also, bananas or seasonal fruit with sour cream. Celestial baked treats: Noodle and potato kugels; rugelach; “Lekach” (honey cake). Abysmal: All vegetables and salads (a honey and ginger dish of shaved carrots cooked with garlic and chicken fat was known as “tzimmes” was the exception. It was served warm and was delicious.) Absymal: Kosher steak (gristly, tough and broiled beyond well done). Tasteless boiled chicken. Hamburgers fried in Crisco. Mueller’s spaghetti cooked into a sodden mess and covered in canned tomatoes. “American” fried chicken: boiled chicken covered with corn flakes and cooked, once more, in Crisco (this dish made abysmal move into horror). Abysmal desserts: Stewed prunes or canned pears. In retrospect, food winners outnumbered losers and HG thrived. Hey, there was the best after school snack ever. A slice of Pechter’s (or Stuhmer’s) pumpernickel smeared with chicken fat and sprinkled with kosher salt and black pepper (sometimes a slice of raw onion was added). (Patient HG fans: Yes, many posts about HG’s Mom. A pre-Mother’s Day tribute).

HG’s Late Mom VS Vermin

May 5th, 2020 § 0 comments § permalink

HG’s Mom (Ida Kopkind Freeman) did not fear insects vermin. She would grab big, scary spiders with her hands and crush them. Same went for water bugs, hornets (even the “Murder Hornet” had they been around) and other creepy-crawlies, big and small. Hands were vigorously washed with strong “laundry” soap. Very busy woman: Cleaning. Washing. Dusting. Making beds and changing sheets. Cooking. Pickling. Canning. Knitting. Sewing. Crocheting. No idle moments. Mom grew up in a tiny Belorussian “shetl” Life was rugged. When Mom was seven years old, she went out into the summer warmth to tend the vegetable garden. A very large rat was nibbling a cucumber. Mom kicked the rat with her bare foot. Enraged, the nasty rodent sunk its teeth into Mom’s big toe. The bite cracked a bone. Mom strangled the rat because it wouldn’t let go. No doctors in the “shetl”. So, the bloody wound was treated with a salve made by a neighbor, an old woman named Pesha. Never healed properly. Left a big bump. Painful when walking or standing for a long time. Mom shrugged it off. Hey, worse things happened to Jews in Europe. In the late 1930’s, after family pressure, Mom finally went to a hospital for a toe operation. Loved being in the hospital for a few days. Total leisure. She could lie in a comfortable bed and listen to favorite soap operas on the radio as well as the Yiddish station, WEVD. That was Mom’s taste of luxury.

Yinglish

May 4th, 2020 § 0 comments § permalink

Yiddish was the language of Ashkenazi Jews. Scorned by Zionists who felt it echoed the European ghettoes, they replaced it with Modern Hebrew. However diminished (millions of Yiddish speakers were murdered in the Holocaust), Yiddish lingers on. There is a splendid body of literature (and much poetry) in Yiddish. I.B. Singer, Nobel prize winner, was one of many important writers whose work was in Yiddish. HG’s late Mom. was born Ida Kopkind in a Belorussian “shtetl” in the Minsk province. She spent the majority of her life in Bronx apartments before her death in a nursing home. Yiddish is a very flexible language, reflecting the nomadic life of Jews in the diaspora. Mom adapted Yiddish into a language HG calls “Yinglish.” How did Mom identify her apartment house neighbors? The woman next door was the “nextdoorehkeh.” And, so on: “upstezzehkeh”, “downstezzehkeh”, “groundfloorehkeh”. An unsavory person was a “nogoodnik.” A flighty young woman, possibly free with her favors, was a “bummerkeh.” Mom Yinglishized geography. HG’s family lived in “Duh Bronix”. Relatives lived in “Brunzevlle” (the Brownsville neighborhood of Brooklyn). A non sequitur: Mom was very gracious when it came to complimenting unmarried women. No matter how unsightly, Mom would always focus on a desirable feature. About a spinster with a face like a potato, Mom pointed out: “She has lovely hands.”

Reading

April 28th, 2020 § 2 comments § permalink

Reading has always been a solace for HG. Did not have the money to buy books growing up during the Great Depression but, armed with a library card, literary riches were available for HG (starting at age five) at the Highbridge and Bainbridge public libraries in The Bronx. During this period of isolation at HG/BSK’s New Mexico home, HG (as always) is finding pleasure in books. Yes, books. No Kindle. The old guy likes the feel of a book in his hands. And, an illustrated book adds to the pleasure. So, what has HG been reading? There were two gifts from gifted daughter, Lesley R., and husband, Profesore Massimo R. One was “The Europeans” by Orlando Figes, an illuminating analysis of the making of a cosmopolitan culture. (Figes books on Russia and the Russian revolution are essential reading.) The other gift was “The Seine: The River That Made Paris” by Elaine Sciolino (she also wrote a delightful book about Rue des Martyrs, HG’s favorite Parisian street). HG is a devotee of everything English so had a good time with Penelope Lively’s “A House Unlocked” (learned much about the English countryside during World War Two; was taught the difference between a walk and a ramble). John Le Carre’s “Agent Running In The Wild” was not up to the master’s scintillating standard. “Boulevard of Dreams: Heady Times, Heartbreak, and Hope Along The Grand Concourse In The Bronx’ by Constance Rosenblum, is pedestrian but brought back many memories from HG’s youth. While browsing the bookcase, HG discovered “Italian Holiday” by Ludwig Bemelmans. Haven’t read it in 37 years but it remains relevant and sprightly despite some dated and condescending remarks about homosexuals (illustrations are as charming as ever). Brendan Gill’s: “A New York Life: Of Friends and Others” is the best bedtime reading. His mini-profiles of New Yorkers and others are clear-eyed, graceful and devoid of sentimentality — the product of a steely intelligence, a searching eye and a satisfying prose style. Ben Katchor’s “The Dairy Restaurant” is a very eccentric book. The drawings by Katchor are magnificent. Page after page of prose tells the reader more than he or she might ever want to know about Jewish dietary laws and the tortuous history of New York’s (and Europe’s} Jewish dairy restaurants. Happily, the book ends with profiles (and reproductions of their vast menus) of HG’s favorite four dairy restaurants (all gone) Rappaport’s (Second Avenue); Ratner’s (Delancey Street); Steinberg’s (Broadway in the West 80’s); Famous (West 72nd Street). Made HG very hungry.

Happy Bronx Memories

April 24th, 2020 § 0 comments § permalink

HG grew up during the Great Depression and World War Two. Grim years. Before Stalingrad, it looked like Hitler might win. But, there were many happy times in The Bronx for young HG. The best was afternoon story hour at the Bainbridge Public Library (located between Kingsbridge Road and Fordham Road). During the winter, children gathered in the Story Room. A comforting log fire crackled in a fireplace. A gentle-voiced (tiny hint of an Irish brogue) librarian read stories to the children (dramatic inflections). HG dreamed of living in a home with a wood-burning fireplace (for the last 60 years this has been accomplished in New York, New Jersey, Colorado, New Mexico, Nantucket, Fire Island, Prince Edward Island homes). Few cars during wartime so there were happy games played in the streets: Punchball, roller skate hockey, stoop ball, box ball, “Association” football. Enjoyed walking and bicycling (rented bikes) the majestic (much dazzling art deco architecture) Grand Concourse, with late, beloved sister, Beulah Naomi. Tastiest food memories were of Mom’s blintzes, pastrami and corned beef sandwiches at Tower Delicatessen on Kingsbridge Road, Sunday smoked fish brunches with fresh bialys, onion rolls and rye bread from a local bakery.

Isolation

April 20th, 2020 § 1 comment § permalink

Yes, HG/BSK are isolated on HG/BSK’s New Mexico property as Covid-19 threatens the state. HG hasn’t ventured out in more than a month. BSK dons rubber gloves and a mask and shops every ten days. Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods take precautions. Customers have to wait outside and only a limited number are allowed in the stores. Personnel are properly masked and gloved. So far so good. BSK keeps busy each day with gardening and maintaining the complicated fish ponds. HG waters the gardens and does a daily walk around HG/BSK’s five acres with Toby, The Wonder Dog. HG writes the hungrygerald.com blog. and checks investments (could be worse). BSK tracks household expenses and pays bills online. HG/BSK exercise (BSK with yoga online and HG with weights and tension cords). Both swim in HG/BSK’s heated lap pool in the pool house. Prescient BSK stocked up some weeks ago with ample toilet paper and paper towels at Sam’s Club. The BSK-designed wine room is well stocked and there’s a whiskey for HG’s post-dinner sips. BSK makes sure dinner is a joy (last night it was a lusty variation of Vietnamese pho with plenty of rice noodles). A few minutes of venting fury at Der Trumperer’s latest outrage. Then, some escapist TV and so to bed. Hey, life in isolation isn’t so bad. (Few complaints from HG who has the love of his life and a splendid doggy for company).

Choice

April 17th, 2020 § 0 comments § permalink

The New York Times recently mused whether (given lack of enthusiasm for Biden) young voters, fans of Bernie Sanders, African-Americans, Latino-Americans and undecideds would not vote for him this year. David Sedaris, the brilliant and very funny writer, made the most incisive comment on this dilemma (HG believes it appeared in The New Yorker): “In perspective, I think of being in an airplane and a flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and eventually parks it beside my seat. ‘Can I interest you in the chicken ?’, she asks, ‘Or would you prefer a platter of shit with bits of ground glass in it ?’. To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.”

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