HUNGRY GERALD

Snow was falling last night. Big, wet flakes turned the HG/BSK meadow a glittering white. Temp took a dip. (No fear. Snow rapidly disappears in the high and dry warmth of New Mexican sunshine). Snowfall here means a roaring fireplace, much to drink and comfort food on the table. That’s the way it was when talented pals Polly B. (the brilliant photographer) and David F. (novelist/historian/educator) joined HG/BSK and Gorgeous Granddaughter Sofia for dinner. Flutes of Prosecco (with a dash of Aperol, Venetian style) were sipped as BSK’s latest pots were admired. At the table there was a cold bottle of very good Champagne and a platter of Zabar’s Nova Scotia smoked salmon. This was followed by the paragon of comfort food: Meat loaf. This was no ordinary meat loaf. It was Paul Prudhomme’s Cajun Meat Loaf, loaded with spicy New Orleans flavors. BSK showered it with mushroom sauce and flanked it with BSK’s unique smashed potatoes. Much red wine. Meal ended with Trader Joe’s Salted Caramel Ice Cream and ginger cookies. Good food. Good wine. Good friends. Let it snow, let it snow.

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.

Escaped a cold snap in New Mexico by weekending in the luxurious casita at the Carefree, Arizona home of our hospitable friends, Henry and Judy G. Some of the highlights: Saw a delightful musical adaptation of Jane Austen’s “Emma.” The venue was the Herberger Theater Center in Phoenix, an elegant jewel of a theater with comfortable seats, excellent sight lines and good acoustics. The production was flawless. Perfectly sung, acted, staged, lit and costumed. HG and BSK agreed. Nothing beats good live theater. This experience was preceded by brunch at the nearby Chelsea’s Kitchen. Lots of beautiful people, Pretty room. Dazzling white wine sangria. HG relished hot cakes with real maple syrup, fruit and rashers of bacon. BSK knocked off a substantial platter of huevos rancheros. A sophisticated lineup of food and beverages. HG noted an Aperol Spritz and a bottle of Duvel Ale on the drinks menu. Chelsea’s is run by true professionals. Brunch was reminiscent of the weekend midday feast at Daughter Victoria’s Five Points Restaurant on Great Jones Street in New York.

HG had an Arizona food surprise. HG loves a good hot dog but hasn’t had one in years. HG’s thoughtful hosts transported HG to a very unlikely place. Costco. That’s right. Costco, the mammoth retailer that sells mammoth amounts of food and wine (among many other things). The modest sum of $1.50 buys a foot long Costco tube steak with relish,mustard, chopped onion plus a soft drink. HG managed to get down a pair of dogs. As good as Nathan’s Coney Island. That’s right. Sounds unlikely but so be it. The Costco bow wow is right up there with best of class.

Joy in the HG household. HG has discovered a new pre-dinner cocktail: The Vesper Martini. This has become a favorite in Santa Fe’s hip sipping circles. Here’s how you do it. Fill a shaker with ice. Add one part vodka and one part gin. A modest splash of Lillet (the French, slightly sweet aperitif wine). Pour into a (pre-chilled in the freezer, of course) martini glass. Garnish with a lemon twist. A lovely, lethal drink with a nice French accent.

HG has also made some good, inexpensive wine discoveries. Italy’s Contadino sparkling Pinot Grigio (BSK’s pre-dinner choice) which is wonderful drunk straight or mixed with Aperol in the classic Venetian “Spriss.” Also, Argentina’s Trivento Reserve Malbec tickles the HG palate with a spicy complexity.

After HG’s late afternoon exercise ritual of varied stretches and 45 minutes of swimming in the lap pool, HG tries to mitigate the health benefits he has accrued by diving into a large glass of vodka on the rocks. HG is not a believer in the high priced vodkas. Just hype and advertising. However, HG does enhance his proletarian vodka. Sometimes HG adds a dash of Angostura Bitters or Peychaud Bitters or Fee Brothers West Indian Orange Bitters. (A dash of Peychaud also enhances a mediocre brandy). When HG wants a taller beverage, HG mixes vodka with a bit of Campari, Aperol or St. Germain. (HG does not fancy vodka and tonic). Curiously, vodka was never present in the Belorussian/Jewish immigrant home of HG’s youth. Like many Jewish immigrants of the early 1900’s, HG’s Dad fancied rye whiskey, namely Park & Tilford (pronounced “Pok un Tilfeh”), the favorite tipple in Lower East Side bars. When HG was a journalist in the early 1950’s, HG continued the Park & Tilford tradition at the Mirror Bar on New York’s E. 45th Street. Three shots of P & T for one buck. The house bought the fourth. A nice cocktail interlude.