HUNGRY GERALD

HG, like his beloved late sister, Beulah Naomi Katz, is fond of sweet Vidalia onions. In New Mexico, HG has discovered Texas Sweets, an onion as sweet as Vidalias. They’ve got an advantage: A longer pantry life. Sliced raw sweet onions enhance many dishes. Essential with a hamburger. Delightful with Tandoori chicken. Good canned sardines, sliced onions, Kalamata olives and artisan bread make a pleasant lunch. The best use of sliced onions: In a sandwich of rare roast beef, Jewish rye bread well lathered with chicken fat, coarse salt. (A delicatessen in Harlem, when it was a Jewish neighborhood, made a specialty of this sandwich. Long lines awaited the robust treat). HG likes finely chopped onion in tuna salad. Even better is canned Italian (or Spanish) tuna mixed with cannellini beans, chopped onion, parsley, Sicilian olive oil, squeeze of lemon and plenty of ground black pepper. The late Italian food guru, Marcella Hazan, proposed a dish of slowly cooked, slightly caramelized onions over pasta. Sounds good but have never tried it. One of HG’s favorite, appetite enhancing aromas is that of frying onion. Good times are sure to follow. HG has a happy memory of the after school treat prepared by HG’s Mom. Thick slice of Stuhmer’s Pumpernickel Bread. Chicken fat (rendered weekly by Mom). Sliced onion. Coarse salt. Properly fueled, HG would be off to star in Bronx street games like punchball and “association” football.

HG’s beloved, late sister, Beulah Naomi Katz, loved to negotiate. The Yiddish word for negotiate is handel and Beulah was a world class handeler. She probably inherited this talent from HG’s Mom, Ida Kopkind Freeman. Beulah once took Mom to Best & Co., the venerable Fifth Avenue department store, to buy gloves. Mom asked the saleslady the price of a pair: “Nine dollars, Madam.” Said Mom: “I’ll give you five.” Beulah had to point out that while this tactic might work in The Bronx, it was ineffectual on Fifth Avenue. A jewelry vendor in a Morocco market said of Beulah, admiringly,: “She bargains like a Berber woman.” HG/BSK’s children enjoyed accompanying Beulah to American flea markets, church sales, stoop sales and yard sales. Whatever the price (a quarter), Beulah was sure to get it for less (“A quarter? This is my niece, an award winning journalist — she’ll pay a nickel”). However rarely, Beulah’s handeling skills didn’t always succeed. She was very fond of sweet Vidalia onions from Georgia. When in Atlanta for a family event, Beulah met the leading produce broker of Vidalia onions. Beulah wanted a monthly shipment and she wanted them at a wholesale price. No, said the broker, you will pay retail. A hot and heavy negotiation took place. The broker wouldn’t budge. An almost irresistible force had met an immovable object. Beulah got her Vidalias. She paid retail. HG enjoyed negotiating for rugs in the souk at Marrakech. This retail maze is one of the features of the colorful Moroccan city. The rug merchant would unroll many rugs. HG would favor one rug. The merchant would state the price. Astronomical. HG would look sad, and between sips of mint tea offered by the hospitable rug seller, would make a gracious speech: “Dear Sir, you have beautiful, rare rugs. I am honored to have seen them in your distinguished shop. Alas, though American, I have very limited means. The pressures of educating my children, etc. I have champagne tastes but a beer budget. I don’t want to insult you by offering the low sum I can afford.” The merchant was sympathetic. “You are very courteous. I will not be insulted. Name your price.” HG said the number. The merchant laughed. Was HG joking? After these preliminaries, the bargaining began. Back and forth flew the numbers. Finally, HG named his final price. An emphatic “No”. HG/BSK said goodbye and left the shop. After a few steps, HG felt a tug at his shoulder. It was the merchant. The final price was accepted. It was about 80% lower than the original sum asked by the seller. It was a very successful encounter. HG thought he had snared a bargain. The vendor, HG is sure, happily enjoyed a substantial profit. A satisfactory haggle.

BSK, a talented potter (among many other accomplishments and skills, both practical and artistic), has made a special pot for storing lemons, limes, oranges and avocados. Out of this wonderful artifice, BSK extracted an avocado, squeezed it and announced: “I’ve got some Vidalia onions. Let’s have an onion-avocado-orange salad.” HG is a passionate lover of sweet Vidalias. Combining them with ripe avocado slices and blood oranges is a heavenly marriage that HG first tasted in a Cuban restaurant in northern Manhattan. No, they did not use pricey Vidalias, but ordinary onions — delicious nonetheless. When eating at this unnamed restaurant, HG accompanied this salad with fried shrimp or flounder or “ropa vieja” (a type of Cuban pot roast) or sometimes a slice of chewy but flavorful rare steak. Obligatory was a big bowl of “Moros y Cristianos” (Moors and Christians, a colorful name for black beans and rice). So, for the mutual delight of HG and BSK, this meal was reproduced last night. HG sizzled a garlic rubbed flap steak in a trusty cast iron pan. (Flap steak is a butcher’s secret. Cheaper than a conventional sirloin and full of beefy flavor). A can of Goya black beans (the best) was warmed and served atop white rice (adorned with plenty of chopped, raw Vidalia and splashes of picante salsa). There was a bottle of Rosemount Austrailan Shiraz (big and fruity). Django Reinhardt (circa 1936) on the Bose. Joy.