HUNGRY GERALD

HG/BSK’s oceanfront Prince Edward Island home provides an ongoing avian show. Double-crested Cormorants flock together on a rock formation in the sea, looking very much like a convention of black cloaked elders. They jump as they dive for a fish. There are many Gulls soaring through the air, gracefully riding the air currents. Herring gulls, Ring-billed Gulls and Great Black-Billed Gulls are among the species. There are numerous Herons with their distinctive long necks and elongated flight patterns. Along the shore are Plovers and Sandpipers scurrying about on their skinny legs. And, on the lawn leading to the sea are Robins, a wide assortment of Wrens and an occasional Hummingbird. HG/BSK’s favorite bird is the Osprey. They fly through the sky and then, like a helicopter, hover in space. In spectacular fashion they dive feet first and often come up with a fish and carry it off in their talons. HG/BSK reserve their hatred for Crows. These smart, loud mouthed birds perch outside HG/BSK’s bedroom and make piercing wakeup “Caw-caw” sounds. A few days ago, angry BSK hurled a tennis ball at them before returning to a warm bed. They have another unpleasant habit. They are “purple poopers.” They gobble up blueberries from an adjacent field and then stain the deck with their purple droppings. Bad birds. Being a gourmand rather than an ornithologist, HG prefers birds cooked. Favorite bird is the chicken (Especially when marinated/spatchcocked/roasted by BSK). Next favorite is the duck in many forms. The breast seared rare (served as “duck steak” at the Chez Georges bistro in Paris). As duck confit In Paris or barbecued in numerous Chinese restaurants. Best duck dish is Peking Duck with its separate services of crisp skin and juicy meat. HG often enjoys pigeon (served blood rare) in Paris bistros and squab (baby pigeon) that has been barbecued and glazed. Best version is at Vancouver’s Sun Sui Wah restaurant. HG has no desire to eat the tiny Ortolans favored by French gourmets. The French, a people much admired by HG, have some odd food choices. Ortolans and foul smelling chitterling sausages are among them

Restaurant cooking is probably better than ever. Chefs are more creative and less provincial. They are willing to stretch themselves, using the spices, foods and flavors of numerous countries in their cooking. And, many chefs are seeing outside the confines of their kitchen and addressing global problems of climate change and health by sourcing sustainable (and local) produce, meat and fish. However, because of rising costs and (specially in New York) the crushing burden of rent, most restaurants lack the two important qualities that make dining out memorable: Generosity and Hospitality. These qualities always impressed HG/BSK when dining in Italy. So many happy memories of modest trattorias and osterias where HG/BSK were treated like family members rather than tourists with a very modest amount of Italian language skills. Chefs would often send a few additional gratis tastes to HG/BSK’s table. HG has a happy memory of the proprietor of a seaside restaurant walking through the room with a big bowl of seafood risotto insisting the customers have a taste. Paris bistros and brasseries (for the most part) have lost their welcoming spirit. Today, after being assured HG/BSK’s reservations are in order, the maitre d’ seats them in a ghetto reserved for non-Francophones—mainly Japanese and Chinese tourist plus boisterous Germans and Russians. This is in sharp contrast to the welcomes of yesteryear. HG recalls a lunch some 30 years ago at Chez Georges, then as now, an excellent bistro serving classic French food. Cold November day and HG/BSK arrived without a reservation. No matter, said the smiling bistro owner, the wait will be short. Made them comfortable standing at the bar. Poured two glasses of fine Brouilly and provided some dry sausage to nibble. Seated in about seven minutes, HG/BSK relished their salads of frisee with lardons and poached eggs. Ate other good things –rare duck breast, sole meuniere, pommes frites., etc. That old time French bistro spirit was always alive and well at the delightful Veau d’ Or on E. 60th Street in New York. When you were seated, the proprietor immediately provided you with an appetite sharpening saucer of mussels in a savory mustard sauce. Waiters enjoyed HG’s exuberant pleasure in Veau d’ Or’s lusty cuisine. When HG knocked off some delicious quenelles in record time, the waiter replenished the plate. Smiled, No charge. A happy time.(The photo is of the late Robert Treboux, the genial owner of Le Veau d”or. He said of his traditional restaurant: “Those seeking trends should go elsewhere.”)