University Place Free Association Part II: Ivan Black and Barry Gray VS. Walter Winchell and the Stork Club

June 9th, 2013 § 2 comments § permalink

In 1951 Ivan Black, the press agent for the Cafe Society clubs, became involved in a bitter battle with Walter Winchell, the all-powerful columnist and radio personality. Josephine Baker, the New York raised, African American dancer who had become one of the most famous entertainers in France, went to the Stork Club — at the time, one of New York’s top clubs and celebrity hangouts. Ms. Baker felt she received rude service because of her race and she made her displeasure known. A radio talk show guy, Barry Gray, took up Baker’s cause and criticized Sherman Billingsley, the Stork Club proprietor. Billingsley was a Winchell pal (WW had a nightly table in the Club’s super-exclusive Cub Room). The battle was on: Barry Gray and Ivan Black VS the Stork Club and Walter Winchell. WW accused Baker of fascist sympathies and communist ties. (Baker sued WW for defamation — but the timid State Department refused her a visa for some years so she was unable to take the suit to court). WW characterized Barry Gray and Ivan Black (who was also the press agent for the restaurant where Gray broadcast) as “commie sympathizers.” In WW’s columns, Gray was ” Borey Pink” and Black was “Ivan Pink.” Such was Winchell’s power that Gray was hounded out of New York. He relocated to Miami where he was very successful and later returned to New York as a popular (and politically conservative) radio gabber. Today, he is acknowledged as the “Father of Talk Radio.” Ivan, a gentle and scholarly Harvard graduate, had some business reverses but survived. The Ivan Black papers at the New York Public Library (some 55 boxes of press releases, clippings, photos and musical scores) are an invaluable historical source for the night club and jazz scene in New York (1937-1978).

Winchell? Television destroyed him. His TV show was a flop. Soon his radio broadcast and column disappeared. With chagrin, he watched his old rival, Ed Sullivan, become a TV icon. (Yes, WW did voice overs on “The Untouchables” TV show but that was just nostalgia shtick). WW died, quite forgotten, age 74. HG is ambivalent about WW. Winchell liked the prose HG contributed to his column and gave HG clients favorable mention. HG’s career as a press agent got a jump start when Winchell printed, in bold face, a prose poem HG authored. WW sent HG a note: “Keep it comin’, keed–WW.” And that’s what HG has done for many a year.

As for Abel “Strange Fruit” Meeropol who was mentioned in Part I of the University Place posts: He and his wife adopted the two orphaned young sons of atom spies Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. Both boys grew up to be college professors. Their childhood with the Meeropols was a happy one. Abel, they recall, was a master of comic improvisations and impersonations. He kept them laughing. After the torment that those boys went through, HG is certainly thankful for that.

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University Place Free Association Part 1: Barney Josephson

June 8th, 2013 § 2 comments § permalink

HG recently did a post on the good and bad sides of Cedar Bar the legendary hangout of abstract expressionist artists and their hangers on. Its location was University Place in New York’s Greenwich Village neighborhood. A meandering torrent of HG memories ensued. Let’s start with an omelette and burger joint, Cookery, on the corner of 8th and University Place. Food was adequate but secondary. Its renown was based on live jazz. Mary Lou Williams and Alberta Hunter were two of the club’s star performers. Opened in the 50’s and had an almost 30-year run. The owner was a Village legend, the elegant and courtly Barney Josephson. A remarkable guy, Barney was a race relations pioneer. In 1940, he opened a night club — Cafe Society Downtown — in a basement on Sheridan Square. First totally racially integrated — performers and audience — night club in New York and perhaps in the United States. Even the great Harlem clubs of the 20’s — the Cotton Club, etc. — were “whites only.” Yes, a few African-American were seated, but in obscure, hidden locations. Barney changed all that. With the legendary John Hammond acting as talent scout, Barney booked great jazz artists like Billie Holliday and Sarah Vaughan and fledgling stars like Lena Horne. He is also credited for starting the vogue for folk music in Greenwich Village by presenting Josh White. It wasn’t all music. There were laughs. Zero Mostel was the Master of Ceremonies and Imogene Coca and Carol Channing performed there. The club’s press agent, Ivan Black (more on him later), gave Mostel his odd first name: “Because he came from nothing.” A Bronx school teacher, Abel Meeropol (more on him later), approached Barney with a song he had written, Strange Fruit, a passionate, wrenching protest against the lynching of African-Americans. Billie Holliday sang the song and it was a smash. Barney had special rules for the song. It would end her set and there would be no encore. The club would go silent and there would be no service when it was sung. No lights but a baby spot on Holliday’s face. HG was too young for Cafe Society Downtown but heard Billie sing it at the Onyx Club on W. 52nd Street. Same presentation. Devastating. With the success of Cafe Society Downtown, Barney opened Cafe Society Uptown on E. 58th. Both clubs flourished. Then, disaster. Barney’s brother, Leon, was the lawyer for both clubs. A radical leftist (Leon was briefly jailed in Denmark in 1935 for joining in an unsuccessful plot to kill Hitler), Leon was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee at the height of the Red scare. Tough and defiant, Leon refused to testify and was cited for contempt. The Hearst newspapers and their columnists (Westbrook Pegler, Dorothy Kilgallen and Walter Winchell), declared war on
Josephson and the two clubs. Performers were cowed by threats their careers would end if they performed at “commie” clubs. People who patronized the clubs feared reprisals. By 1948 the clubs were gone. Barney was quiet for a while but soon got back in action by founding the Cookery chain. At one point there were five but Barney closed the other four so he could concentrate on the University Place location. The University Place Cookery closed in 1984 after reuniting Jospehson with many of the performers he had introduced at the original Cafe Society. In 1988 he died at 86.

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Home Sweet Home

June 6th, 2013 § 0 comments § permalink

Sometimes the best meals are the spur of the moment, improvised dishes you put together using what’s in the freezer, the refrigerator, the pantry and the kitchen counter (yes, it helps if you have an herb garden). The dishwasher is malfunctioning (repair guy expected soon) so HG and BSK decided to dine out rather than hand wash dishes. But, first…A long swim in the lap pool followed by chilled white wine with a splash of Aperol. Ahh. Rostropovich on the Bose. Sun dappling the trees and cliffs outside the windows. HG and BSK exchanged a glance. Why go out? Why leave heaven? So. A half dozen kumato tomatoes were chopped. Garlic and Italian olive oil sizzled in a pan. Linguine was brought to a proper al dente state. BSK brought back a big handful of herbs (parsley,chives, tarragon, basil, mint) from the BSK garden and chopped them coarsely. From the fridge came some greens which were briskly washed. Plus some fresh mozzarella. It all came together in a big bowl. Sizzling olive oil and garlic were poured over the top. Heavenly aromas. Mixed in the pasta, red pepper, Malden Smoked Sea Salt Flakes and an extra splash of olive oil. Served it with lots of Spanish red wine, a lightly dressed green salad and a bit of Manchego cheese. Great food. Didn’t mind the hand washing a bit.

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Desserts Rule

June 4th, 2013 § 1 comment § permalink

Been a wonderful week of dinner parties here in the scenic Jacona/Poajque neighborhood of New Mexico. HG has never had a serious sweet tooth; nevertheless, the unexpected stars of these festivities were the desserts. HG/BSK hosted a dinner for visiting wit/writer Stevie P. (Recent must-read book is Brisket, A Love Story) and antiques expert Eric S. (You’ve seen him on PBS’ Antiques Road Show); Santa Feans Gerald and Penelope S. (He’s a fourth generation dealer in fine arts and she’s a curator); neighbor Karen K. (Film producer and HG/BSK’s source for the best eggs in New Mexico). The menu consisted of flank steak, grilled vegetables, French potato salad. Crudites to start. Karen said she’d bring dessert. Mentioned goat milk ice cream. Uh,oh. To HG’s ears it sounded too healthy. Turned out to be a knockout. Lemony pound cake topped with light goat milk ice cream (a joy) and a citrus coulis. Next dinner party was at the home of photographer Polly B. and educator/novelist David F. Dinner was crusty barbecued lamb from a local farm, herbaceous orzo salad and grilled seasonal asparagus. Their visiting daughter, Leslie (A documentary film maker) made delectable fruit tarts for dessert. The crusts were truly remarkable. Off to a dinner party at neighbors Mary Lou and Mike W. (Political activists who are always engaged in trying to make our region and nation humane and environmentally responsible). Two interesting couples we had never met were invited. Lots of laughter as some of these former Texans recalled incidents with two salty, irreverent Texas women: the late Governor Ann Richards and the late journalist/columnist Molly Ivins. On the menu: Curried carrot soup, baked salmon, inventive fruit salads. Ah, but dessert. Mary Lou made creme brulees that would have a place of honor at any Paris bistro (Mike flamed the surfaces into a perfect crackle).

So you thought we New Mexicans survived on only tacos, chili and beans?

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Views

June 2nd, 2013 § 0 comments § permalink

HG and BSK have been very fortunate in life to have dined looking out at a variety of spectacular views. Of course, nothing will ever match the sweeping New York vistas from tragic, doomed Windows on the World Restaurant on the 105th and 106th floors of the World Trade Center. HG dined there often, managed news conferences and business meetings in its convivial setting. (One of HG’s business colleagues was among four people who left the restaurant and elevatored to safety just minutes before the terrorist plane struck). There are other New York restaurants, thankfully spared disaster, with great views: The glittering art-deco Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Center. The “Top of the Tower” in the Beekman Tower Hotel. In Italy, incredible views were matched with culinary delights: In a miniscule trattoria atop a lofty hill in Tuscany HG and BSk feasted on tagliatelle with generous shavings of white truffle. In Sicily there were extravagant aquatic vistas viewed from a dining terrace where the specialty was Spaghetti Norma (eggplant sauce). Also in Sicily, HG and BSK ate linguini with sardine sauce while seated on the terrace of a posh Taormina hotel, the endless blue of the Mediterranean shimmering in the distance. For many years, HG and BSK didn’t have to leave home to enjoy dining scenery. For some 16 years HG and BSK’s Colorado dining table faced some 75 miles of views including the Front Range of the Rockies, the lights of Denver, Pike’s Peak and the plains of Kansas. (The HG/BSK home was 9,000 feet above sea level). The HG/BSK loft in Vancouver looked over mountains, sea and glittering skyscrapers. Here, in New Mexico, HG and BSK dine with a crackling fire in their fireplace (nights are cool, even in May and early June) with Las Barrancas (the Cliffs) in the distance. These cliffs, which change color throughout the day as sun and shadow paint their surface, are on the land of the Poajque Pueblo. They are steeped in tribal history. Nice backdrop for HG and BSK’s wine accented dinners.

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Small Is Better…sometimes.

May 31st, 2013 § 0 comments § permalink

Department of Total Absurdity: According to The Huffington Post, a Brooklyn bar is hosting a “smallest penis contest.” The proud possessor of most miniscule member (How about that for alliteration?) will receive the title: “2013 Smallest Penis in Brooklyn.” HG questions the validity of this news. HG thinks a spoof is afoot. Nevertheless. In terms of food and drink, HG is an advocate of small. HG likes tapas, HG likes “small plate” meals, HG likes ordering a bunch of entrees at Chinese restaurants and sharing it all. Big portions are gross and are tasteless by the time they are finished (as HG has noted many times, portions at a Paris restaurant are half the size of their American counterparts). HG likes wine glasses to be half filled. HG likes downsized salads. HG wants some leaves, not a meadow. The American tendency to oversize is reflected in our huge refrigerators. Italian refrigerators and French refrigerators are quite small. This means daily shopping for fresh food. The cuisine is elevated and since there’s a lot of walking between shops, the exercise diminishes the waistline. Truth is, HG and BSK are guilty of excess — they have a mammoth and much loved refrigerator. This leads to leftovers languishing in the rear of shelves. There are nasty discoveries–vegetables and cheeses that appear to be sprouting new varieties of penicillin, plastic wrapped drips and drabs of pasta dishes from days gone by, a sad half lemon sporting a green, fuzzy beard. It is a commentary on our society based on consumption, that HG and BSK must regulary edit their refrigerator.

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Delusions

May 30th, 2013 § 3 comments § permalink

A writer (might have been James Salter), once noted that most people have three self delusions: That they look younger than they are. That they are good drivers. That they are good in bed.

HG thinks there is a fourth self delusion. Most people think they know something about food and dining. They are wrong. Whether or not they know it, they like their fish and steak overdone. They blunt the taste and aroma of white wine by serving it too cold. They fill up with bread and butter before the waitperson brings the first dish. They miss out on rewarding tastes and textures by refusing to eat innards like liver, sweetbreads, tripe. kidneys and brains. They refuse to obey their own taste preferences and buy expensive wine when they prefer cheaper varieties and blends. They accept the worst table in a restaurant (next to the bathroom or adjacent to a noisy service station) rather than risk appearing brutish by requesting a table in a more pleasant location. They keep cheese in the refrigerator and don’t bring it to room temperature before serving. They order risotto in a restaurant and wonder why it is gummy (because a bowl of risotto, done properly, takes at least a half an hour to prepare making it a non-cost effective restaurant item). They kill the essential briny taste of oysters by dousing them with red “cocktail” sauce. Likewise shrimp. They squeeze too much lemon on fish destroying the elusive sea flavors. They overcook pasta and serve it swimming in sauce. They overdo the Parmesan. They make salad dressing too elaborate rather than relying on excellent olive oil and a tiny bit of vinegar. They love the insipid, sweet junk that is sold as balsamic vinegar in this country — REAL balsamic vinegar is aged for years, is excruciatingly expensive and is best when moderately drizzled on fruit or cheese. They have no idea what to order in a decent Chinese restaurant and opt for cliches of the Kung Pao and General Tso variety. HG could go on and on but doesn’t want his misanthropy to triumph.

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Tostadas

May 28th, 2013 § 4 comments § permalink

Tostadas don’t get enough respect. In the world of down home, plain spoken Northern New Mexican food, tacos, burritos, enchiladas, tamales get all the attention. Tostadas are an afterthought (In Yiddish, a nuch shlepper. See how HG expands your language skills?). So, what is a tostada? This is the way they do it at El Parasol in Pojoaque: A corn tortilla is fried until crispy. It gets a layer of refried beans (refritos); then browned ground beef (fragrant with garlic and cumin); green chilis; a layer of guacamole. It is topped with chopped iceberg lettuce, raw onions and tomatoes. Final touch is fiery salsa (red or green). Lots of different flavors and textures. Crisp. Unctuous. Earthy. Fresh. Cold. Hot. The gamut is run. HG imagines that during this health conscious time, tofu will become an alternative to ground beef in the construction of tostadas. There are a number of Sikh ashrams in HG’s neighborhood and these turban wearing folks seem to favor funky Mexican flavors for their vegetarian dishes at El Parasol and Sopapilla Factory. So, Tofu fajitas, anyone?

Eggs the French Way

May 25th, 2013 § 5 comments § permalink

In France eggs are not relegated to the breakfast table; instead they are treated with the culinary seriousness they deserve appearing on both bistro and three star restaurant menus. Oeufs Mayo (hard boiled eggs toped with lots of freshly made mayonnaise) is a nice entree. So are Oeufs Meurette (poached eggs in red wine sauce). One bistro even serves BSK’s childhood favorite: Eggs and Soldiers. The dish consists of a soft boiled egg with buttered spears of a baguette. Naturally, omelettes are prominent. HG loves a bistro mushroom omelette, brown and crisp on the outside, soft on the inside. (The French descriptive word for this is baveuse which literally means “oozing.”) A baveuse omelette accompanied by pomme frites, red wine and good bread (perhaps a bit of salad) makes an ideal light, but hearty lunch. (The comic genius, Mel Brooks, discusses a baveuse onion and tomato omelette in this month’s Bon Appetit Magazine). HG also likes fried eggs and bacon tucked into a Norman galette, a crisp edged buckwheat crepe. Back home in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave, HG likes a summer egg salad (heavy on the mayo) sandwich on whole wheat toast with a glass of cold lemonade.

Recalled Treats From a Schoolboy Past

May 24th, 2013 § 0 comments § permalink

Campbell’s Tomato Soup. Velveeta Cheese. My-T-Fine Chocolate Pudding. Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix. Have not had any of these supermarket basics in scores and scores of years. While certainly not gourmet treats, they were important elements of HG’s schoolboy cuisine. Little HG’s elementary school, P.S. 86, was just three blocks from home so HG would go home and enjoy a Mom-prepared lunch every day. A bowl of tomato soup (HG’s Mom used milk rather than water in preparing this excellent potage). A Velveeta-lettuce-tomato-sliced onion sandwich on whole wheat or Pechter’s pumpernickel bread with a goodly dollop of Hellman’s Real Mayonnaise. And, sometimes, a chocolate pudding for dessert. For some obscure reason, Friday lunch was Aunt Jemima’s pancakes with butter and honey. This cuisine enabled smart little HG to get a consistent string of A’s on the HG report card. The Principal of P.S. 86 would bellow at his students during the weekly assembly: “Concentration. Self Control. Obedience. Watchwords for future success.” In later years, HG proved deficient in two of these watchwords but excelled in “Concentration” when applied to food and wine.

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