HUNGRY GERALD

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.

Best food writer ever was AJ. Liebling. His “Between Meals” is a book that’s small in size but epic in its pleasures. He called himself a “feeder” and his overeating led him to early death. (So, food lovers. That’s a warning. Be moderate). Next in line is Waverly Root, no slouch at the table, and a pal and dining companion of Liebling. M.F.K. Fisher was the mistress of crystalline prose. Her recipes? Beware! Best restaurant reviewer is Alec Lobrano. A joyous provider of good advice. The New York Times has been fortunate in having stylish restaurant reviewers: The present Pete Wells (funny and original) and Mimi Sheraton and Ruth Reichl in the past. (Sheraton has a good, down home cookbook: “From My Mother’s Kitchen”). Craig Claiborne of the Times was the pioneer of restaurant reviewers. HG was not a fan. This is not nepotism, but one of the very best food writer is SJ (HG’s multi-talented son, Jeremy). SJ lives in Tokyo with his family and he and his wife, Maiko, own and run Freeman Shokudo, a busy barbecue and beer izakaya. Reviews have been spectacular (check out Japan Times). He has been too busy to continue his fascinating blog, “Oishi Gevalt”. Get a taste by going to OG’s archive (oishigevalt.com ).