Lardo

One last thing before finally getting to bed!

I tried that Niman Ranch lardo and it is as good as the stuff from Italy. The seasonings are perfect.

It is not for everybody, as the texture is one that many will find a bit alien, but it is also great for cooking, so it has uses beyond just slicing it and eating it on grilled focaccia. I have no regrets about buying the giant slab of it and recommend it heartily.

I took a good bit of it and chopped it coarsely and rendered it in olive oil. Then I tossed in some par-boiled cardoni and after they started to brown, a splash of white vermouth. Once it cooked down, I put it all in my serving dish and fried a mixture of bread crumbs, garlic, and anchovies until it started to change color. I sprinkled it on the cardoni and gave it a liberal sprinkling of chopped parsley.

It went very well with my mother's homemade ravioli.

Oh yeah

In spite of my dictatorial and authoritarian tendencies, I rarely delete comments. In fact I generally only delete spam. If someone is attacking the Holy Father in a personal way, I will ban him, but for the most part I prefer to let idiocies stand. Or to magnify them:

"this shoundt be on google for Baroque recipes!!! Please change you are wasnting my TIME>"

I could explain how a search engine works. I could even give him some Baroque recipes (I am assuming that he wants food and not painting glazes or the like). But I think that for now I will simply point out that this poor dolt would have "wasnted" less of his TIME if he had simply hit "back" and tried another one. It "woundt" have been on google at all had he used quotation marks.

By the way, it seems that he used Yahoo anyway. Sure Yahoo uses google, but odds are that he doesn't know this!

By the way, his IP address is 67.29.215.124

If you see him, say "hi"

Secular Relics

As I may have mentioned earlier, I have been reading Etienne Gilson's Painting and Reality (at least I think that is the name of the book, I left it in the car and am too lazy to get it or to google it). I just read the part about Authenticity, which is an interesting aspect of painting. I will not at this point get into all of Gilson's excellent points on the matter, but something struck me. He talks about what happens in our perceptions if a painting we admire is suddenly revealed to be a fake. Obviously the art is still the same. The pigment does not magically rearrange itself upon discovery that the painter was not Mr. Esteemed X but Mr. Obscure Y. However, we pay a lot of attention to such things, and if the painting in question turns out to have been a recent one, it fades from the general discussion of art.

Of course, as Gilson later points out, what the interest is in such a painting is art history rather than art itself. I understand this distinction, as I come from a school of thought that always sniffed at historical musicologists, seeing them as the bastard cousins of theoreticians who can actually tell us something about the music, rather than gossip about the composer. So it is in art history. Too often art historians are painfully ignorant of art qua art. They can place a painting in a historical context, which is valuable, but they often fail to tell us much about the painting in terms of the painting itself.

As I write this I can think of many exceptions, but I have encountered this type of art historian too many times.

However, this was not meant to be a rant against art history. First, I will be the first to recognize a valid and valuable place for art history in the world. Second, what got me thinking was the very notion of historicity of an object.

We Catholics recognize relics as something worthy of veneration. We find examples in Sacred Scripture of things like the shadow of St. Peter healing the sick (what class of relic is that anyway?). We have the garment of Christ healing, etc. The thing about it is that we have a well-developed theology around relics. We can speak with the authority of the Fathers and Holy Mother Church on how the veneration of relics benefits us.

In the secular realm, relics completely baffle me.

Take a ball point pen. An ordinary Bic. You know the one, the warhorse that keeps on writing after all of your Parkers and Cross pens have gone belly up. Ordinary pen, useful tool, worth a few cents. Now, take the same pen and put it in the hands of the President. Already it has increased in its secular relic value.

I can see it on eBay: this vintage Bic ballpoint pen was used by President Bush.

Now, take said pen and use it for a historic event:

This vintage Bic ballpoint pen was used by President Bush to sign the Really Really Big Deal Act.

I remember watching Clinton signing some piece of legislation, and he used multiple pens, signing and passing the pen on and taking another and signing another copy, and so on. Obviously these pens went to big backers of said legislation so that they could each own "the pen that President Clinton used to sign the Very Really Important Act of 1998."

What is it about these things that makes them valuable?

What about the first flag of the State of California (bonus points to anyone who can tell me its distinguishing feature)? I can kind of see this, as the object itself is the historic event. The bullet that killed Lincoln, perhaps, as it touched death directly, and that has to be somewhat sacred. But a standard item that Lincoln used as a means to some other end, for instance (back to pens again!?! C'mon Keilholtz, I know it's 1:30 am, but can't you do better?) the pen Lincoln used to scribble the funeral address at Gettysburg just does not strike me as something that exciting, although if I had it, I could probably make a fortune on eBay with it. The manuscript itself, certainly, as that was the unique thing, but the pen, or the spitoon Lincoln used before writing it, or....

The baseball that Bonds broke the homerun record with?

I never could understand that one. The thing that makes a baseball worth having is that it is uniquely suited for playing baseball. This particular ball should still be a good ball for batting around, playing catch with, and so forth. But it will not be used for what it is perfectly suited for. Instead it will sit on a shelf as a reminder of one memorable flight at Pac Bell Park.

Now, this sort of sports fetishism is bizarre, but harmless. What really galls me is that Stradivarius violins, prized for their sound, sometimes end up in glass cases, where they look like fine fiddles, but do not offer nearly the enjoyment to the eyes as they would to the ears (and that is not even getting into the fact that one of the worst things one can do to a musical instrument, preservation-wise, is to not play it).

But this is a Stradivarius, it must be kept from accidents! No risking it on the road! Here is can be seen by all!

So what? It is another lovely brown fiddle. Why not display some other equally lovely brown fiddle, one that does not have such a magnificent tone, and allow musicians to demonstrate what it is that makes this fiddle particularly valuable?

Of course my Cajun musician friends assure me that Stradivarius fiddles are not that uncommon. Why, of the few hundred (or thousand, I really don't know the count) that he made, 30,000 of them are in use in Louisiana! I would rather that Michael Doucet, who may be the best living fiddle player in folk music, have access to a real Stradivarius (I can't wait to hear the protests from classical snobs on that one) than have a Stradivarius sitting unused in a case.

Anyway, that is a brief window into what I think about on a cold night (how did I ever tolerate this weather when I lived here? Sacramento is cold in that damp, get under your skin way. Not cold enough for snow and winter wonderland sort of doings, in a Minnesota-style so-cold-it-makes-you-glad-to-be-able-to-feel-your-extremities-and-won't-a-cup-of-cocoa-consumed-indoors-by-the-fire-be-just-the-right-thing-particularly-the-indoors-part way, but cold enough to really make you wonder why anyone would live here. Oh well, at least it isn't cold and foggy in July). More thought on this later, when I have had time to think about it and not just watch random thoughts bounce around.

Speaking of later, as I mentioned earlier, blogging will be light for the next week. I will be in Redding and have no idea how much time I will have for this sort of thing. For those of you who celebrate this Thursday as Thanksgiving: have a great one. For those of you who see it as Penance: well, may every bite of dry, mealy white meat covered in brown glue and every conversation with that black sheep you only see on holidays draw you closer to God! We had our fun last week, now it is time to prepare for Advent.

Ugh! More Football

Last night's game would have been a complete waste of time were it not for the pizza (and taking frequent breaks from the lousy game to build things out of blocks with Amalia). I am not really a NY Giants fan (give me the Jets any day), but I am definitely an anti-Tampa Bay fan, and would even root for the 49ers to beat them (even if they brought back Mariucci and Young).

Now, before I get hate email from the Tampa Bay Chamber of Commerce, you must understand that it is simply out of a grudge for Coach Chucky (Gruden), who abandoned us to go there that I want to see the Bucs lose every single game that they suit up for.

One of the worthwhile moments of the game was the one moment of Giants brilliance, not just to watch the play, but to watch Chucky's rather psychotic look as he watched it. Other than that, the Giants had their head served to them on a platter, and deserved every bit of it, especially since the Bucs were not and have not been playing well at all.

I like football for the two and a half months a year that I follow it. I would probably like basketball if I reduced its season to a couple of months. The only sport worth a longer season is baseball.

Food and Football?

I realize that my blogging has been pretty limited these days to food and football. Since baseball and bullfight seasons are over, and politically I am in observation mode (mainly wondering if Der Gubernator is going to be the disaster I am predicting and too depressed by the Massachussetts homosex marriage disaster to really want to comment with verve), it leaves arts, literature, spirituality, family, food and football.

As for arts, I am writing about music every week for the newspapers, and should probably get back to Building Blocks of Music and the Analyses series. Mea culpa. At the rate we are going, we should hit the Renaissance in 50 years.

In literature, I have not been reading anything that is really bloggable. I am working on a piece for the North Beach Lectura Dantis on La Vita Nuova, but it is really too focused around our discussion to be of general interest, I am afraid. I have not read a good novel for a couple of weeks, and most of the poetry I have been reading is of interest for very specific reasons, and not that interesting to talk about. I have been reading Etienne Gilson, which is interesting and will probably show up on an arts-related post sometime soon.

As for arts, not too much is going on in the Bay Area right now. There is the Degas sculpture show, so maybe something blogable in that. We'll see. If I get to a performing arts event I usually have to write about it in the paper, and I really doubt that anyone outside the Bay Area cares about how Michael Morgan conducted the Overture to Fidelio (yawn, in case you were wondering. Poorly articulated string passages made an uninspired mush of a fairly weak piece. He redeemed himself in the other pieces).

So, since I cannot speak of any great spiritual or philosophical insights (at least any that I remember an hour later), you get stuck with postings on food and football. I am sorry. Thank you for bearing with me in this dull period. I will work on something spicier over the vacation. I realize that it has been far too long since I have hurled invective at heretics and infidels, but since we are approaching their day of celebration (I celebrated my Thanksgiving Day last Thursday, merci), I am sure I will find some good incindiaries. Perhaps a recipe for turkey burned at the stake (uh oh, Mr. Riddle is going to be annoyed at me, but really, there has to be something fun to do with a typical commercial bird).

Speaking of that holiday, if you are looking for a wine that somewhat goes with turkey and all the trappings, a pinot noir is probably the safest, unless the menu is heavy on the gooey sweet potatoes (which I always find the least objectionable thing on the table), in which case beaujolais nouveau is probably a fit match. It is light and fruity, yet dry, so it actually cuts the sweetness and can wash down accidentally ingested bits of white meat. Or you could stick with Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. Yum.

But whatever you do, get your shopping done tomorrow. You might think, "well, I can run to the store Wednesday morning," but you are forgetting how awful an experience that ALWAYS is. You might rationalize it with "it will be just as bad tomorrow" or "well, maybe it wasn't really that bad last year," but you only fool yourself. This year I will absolutely not be in a supermarket or food store of any sort after 10 am Tuesday. If I don't have it then, it can wait until Friday.

Maybe hordes of shoppers are better behaved in your area, but they are beasts here in the Bay Area. Normally polite people become raving maniacs behind the shopping cart this week. I hear that serious drinkers take the night off on New Year's Eve. I recommend that foodies take the week of Thanksgiving off. If ever there was a time to retreat, thaw stuff in your freezer and let the field be torn up by novices and hacks, this is the week to do it.

With that, I will be preparing for my last meal tomorrow night and will be in quasi-hibernation in a remote town in the shadow of a volcano starting Tuesday. I might post Tuesday night from Sacramento, but after that it is Northward bound and nothing from me until next week.

Food item found!

I mentioned a while back that Niman Ranch sells lardo, that glorious cured lard that everyone should try at least once in their life. At the farmer's market on Saturday they were selling it at their booth. The first time we went by I noticed that they only had it in five and a half pound slabs. Could be dangerous. Walked by, bought vegetables, but could not get the thought out of my head.

We had tacos for lunch, and had to pass by the Niman Ranch booth again on our way to the table. I asked the fellow about preservation issues of a slab that size. He said, "well, it freezes well." That settled it, and I am now the proud owner of five and a half pounds of cured lard. Since that is a lot of lardo, I will be using it for cooking as well as for putting on toasted bread. I will report on the successes and failures, although I really don't anticipate failures, as this stuff is amazing.

I also picked up some lovely cardoni, so I think that tomorrow we will be having cardoni sauteed with lardo and topped with anchovies and garlic bread crumbs. This is sort of stolen from a dish I had at Tra Vigne, but the lardo is my own touch. Full report tomorrow or Tuesday.

I am also going to experiment with pumpkin panna cotta, which was going to happen earlier, but I have been busy with assignments from the paper (speaking of which, I really should be working on one now, rather than writing this, but you know how it goes). This is the plan: pumpkin puree with a cup of cream, sugar and gelatin, cooked together. Another cup of cream is whipped and folded into the mixture. It is allowed to set in a mold. I might add some spices, I might add some dark rum, I might add some marsala. I am not sure. I will probably serve it with toasted pecans and maybe poached quince.

Another food item for West Coast folks to be on the lookout for: Oregon white truffles. They are not as strong as the Italian ones, but at $6 for a large one, you can use a lot more. Italian white truffles keep getting more and more outrageously expensive, so it is good that folks are making serious efforts at raising them here in the States. If more people can have access to this wonderful flavor, so much the better.

Of course one could always get white truffle oil, but we all know the dark secret behind that stuff, don't we? Trader Joe's is selling some good white truffle oil that claims to be made by infusing the oil with actual white truffles. I am giving the the benefit of the doubt, but I am suspicious. It smells too strong and is too cheap. Good stuff, though. Use it to finish a funghi pizza or a risotto and you will be happy, but please use it sparingly. As hard as it is to believe, it actually can ruin a dish if used too liberally.

On other food matters we get to the subject of cassoulet. We added some grilled Mello Brothers linguica and some wood-fire cooked arista to the leftovers (we will be out of town from Tuesday night through Sunday, so all perishables must be consumed). It is an interesting addition, and makes me think that cassoulet could be the ideal large family dish. It is hearty, tasty, and can be doctored up with other meats to make it interesting on day three. Also, with each day, the beans break up more and more, making a different textured dish. For the first time I am not at all sick of cassoulet on the Sunday following Beaujolais Nouveau (there, Ryan, satisfied by the proper order?).

The best basic cassoulet recipe out there is Julia Child's, and I recommend making it once exactly as she suggests, although it is time consuming. Once you have done that, you can experiment with short cuts and other meats (this year I used goat instead of lamb and boudin blanc for the sausage). I think that next time I am going to try to do it in a crock-pot.

Just Got Back

We just got back from a long-needed mini-vacation to the Napa Valley. No great spriritual or culinary insights, although we saw nature in all her splendor, viewed as the Creator wanted it to be viewed: from a hot air balloon, and we ate some very good food and had some very good wine.

The food at Mustards and Tra Vigne was fantastic, but was basically in the same school of cuisine that I normally write about. You know the rule: good ingredients cooked as simply as possible to bring out their basic flavors. The best dish was the bollito misto at Tra Vigne. I give them bonus points for including tripe and tongue in it.

One thing that really got my goat was the listing at Tra Vigne's casual cafe for "biscottis."

Look, I am semi-literate in the Italian language, but that is just plain sloppy. If they don't know that biscotti is already in the plural, can they be counted on to make them properly? Well, probably, but it still irks me.

Another observation on the "art" galleries that dot the valley is that they are dominated by a lot of really bad landscapes. There is clearly a strong demand for rural landscapes out there, but is the audience simply tolerating those wretched colors, banal compositions, lousy draftsmanship, poor paint handling and other abuses or do they in fact like those things?

If they were able to get their hands on the same subject matter painted properly, would they jump on them? I suspect it is like the situation with Marc Chagall in that there is a yearning for something, and the people will gravitate towards anything that partially fulfills that yearning, even when it is technically and aesthetically deficient.

Sometimes I think that the excesses of 1960's, 1970's, 1980's, 1990's "avant-gardes" (a completely useless term since the mid-1950's at least) are finally going to implode in a black hole of irrelevance. In many ways they already have: the artists who think that conceptual art is not a contradiction in terms are pretty much going only by the support of a very small and insignificant population of art theory fanatics.

I am no populist, but there is a need for comment when the supposed brave fighters against stodgy traditionalism are looking entirely like the dessicated academic painters of the past. Obviously, the art is different, as those old academic painters at least mastered their craft, but the incestuous circles of artists, critics and (very few) patrons, with the art completely failing to capture the imagination of anyone outside the circle rings a familiar bell.

One of the paintings that I noticed really borrowed heavily from Bonnard, who is one of my all-time favorite painters. It fell short, in that it was a compositional mess, with the background done as an afterthought, completely killing the potentially interesting space that the foreground suggested.

This painting, as awful as it was, gave me hope that there is some part of the brain of most people that responds to Bonnard's approach. I think there is, and that the French Symbolist, fauvist and assorted post-Impressionists present tremendous ideas worth mining.

There is this little voice in the back of my head that keeps saying, "the paint handling of Thiebaud, with the composition of Bonnard. Just do it. Just do it." But then there is that other voice that says, "no, late Diebenkorn. He was on to something that needs further exploration."

We shall see. I am working on a small nightscape, and it has been leaning more towards the former than the latter.

But, it will have to wait, as will more blogging. Tomorrow is the third Thursday of November, when we have the first opportunity to drink the wine of 2003. Get it while it's fresh! Cassoulet must be made (as well as a vegetarian entree for those with that disorder). The fun starts at 7. If you are on the East Coast, you can catch a morning flight and be here in time. Otherwise, next year. Same time (and there is always my variety meats festival in February for the brave).

Why can't they just be lousy and let me continue to sneer at them?

It is hard to be angry at a team that plays as beautifully as the 49ers did tonight, which of course makes me all the angrier at them.

You see, a while back I was miffed at them for their stupid personnel decisions, centered mostly around the then over-the-hill Steve Young (a player I never liked, even when he was good). I was completely fed up with the owners, with Coach Mariucci, and with Young’s refusal to retire with some shred of dignity, so I decided to put my long-standing loyalty to the team on hiatus.

I gave them five years probation, which they could shorten by a year if Young finally gave up and another year if they replaced the coach. Well, they did and did, and that leaves this year as the final year of my 49ers dislike. So, now I can watch them again, so that when I am back in the fold next year, I know where their strengths and weaknesses lie.

Since I have been in Sacramento on most Mondays this last year, I have not been watching much football, since my rule is that I will not watch football when we have summer weather, and I strictly limit my weekend football time, because otherwise one can spend way too much time glued to the TV, drinking beer, eating pizza, and otherwise degenerating.

Since we are going to leave for the Napa Valley for a couple of days tomorrow, I had the rare opportunity of watching Monday Night Football. We ordered a pizza, got a six-pack of Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale (yum!), and watched some magnificent football.

Besides the great playing on the field (almost enough to make me think that Owens is not such a bad apple after all), the team retired Lott’s number. Seeing Bill Walsh, Joe Montana, and all the other greats of the team’s history on the field honoring a legend, seeing this promising young quarterback show that he is made of the stuff that made the Niners great, well, it was very difficult to root for the Steelers, a team I have never really liked.

So, I guess I might have to reconsider my 49er hiatus.

Anyway, the next two days will be foodie days as part of the belated celebration of our seventh anniversary (the date was actually October 26th, but finding a time my parents could watch Amália, and that we were free of other obligations has put us a few weeks behind). We will have lunch with my parents and Amália at Mustard’s, then a dinner alone at Tra Vigne and then Wednesday will, weather permitting, find us in a hot air balloon, seeing the fall colors of the Napa Valley from above.

Since Napa is out of the market area for all of our newspapers, I will be doing the rare thing of eating really good food and not having to take notes (yippee!). I will report on any great culinary discoveries on this here blog, though. While I have eaten at restaurants related to Mustards, I have never eaten there, and I have so far not had a chance to eat at Tra Vigne, although I have their excellent cookbook and have been a long admirer of Michael Chiarello (he has since left Tra Vigne, but reports of the post Chiarello restaurant remain favorable).

So, with that, please understand my absence for the next two days.

Saturday fun and reflections

Today I had to make a run to North Beach to pick up something, so I suggested to Melanie that we all go and have duck rillette sandwiches at the Ferry Building. She agreed, so we loaded up the car and headed over to the city.

In the summertime we will often have beautiful, warm, sunny weather on this side of the bay only to find cold wind and fog over San Francisco. Today was the opposite. It was still gray and drippy in Oakland, but the sun broke through in the City, so after eating duck rillettes, making our rounds at the farmers' market, and taking care of business, we wanted to do something else, but weren't sure what.

Since we were driving on Broadway, and Amalia is almost as smitten by tunnels as by trains, I figured I could give her a good treat by driving through the Broadway tunnel. She loved it, but then one is on the other side of Russian Hill, so one might as well do something over there.

Not really knowing what to do I just kept driving West, making suggestions to Melanie. I thought about a hike at the beautifully restored Chrissy Fields wetlands, and that made Melanie think of Marina Green and the two kites that we keep in the car, and next thing you know Amalia was having her first kite flying experience.

Some days the light and sky over the marina are beyond description. Alcatraz stands not too far from shore and looks almost inviting, the Golden Gate Bridge seems to glow. The Marin headlands take on colors normally only found in paintings. A blimp kept buzzing us, birds kept flying by, dogs chased frisbees, and the mansions of the Marina still sported their mayoral allegiances (including the ones extolling candidates who were finished in last week's election).

To fly a kite in this atmosphere is one of the great pleasures in life, and I am not entirely sure why. Kite flying at the level we do it is not a great challenge. We are not performing aerobatics or exhibiting monumental sheets of nylon, rather we have two good but simple kites that we were simply keeping aloft. All three of us were completely mesmerized by the whole thing, though.

There is something beyond fun in flying kites, and I am not sure I can put it in words, just as I have been having great difficulty putting into words what I expect a painting to do recently.

After we flew kites we drove to Fort Point, the Civil War era fort that guarded the Golden Gate, and now sits, perfectly preserved, under the famous span. Then through the Presidio, and it hit me as I took a glance at Chrissy Fields from the vantage of the Presidio and saw not a landscape but a painting.

Well, it did hit me then, but it took me a few hours to synthesize it, and it will take me many hours to articulate it. When I do, you will read it here first, but I think I may have found a breakthrough in my painting rut, which is my first concern. Articulating theory of art is much lower on my list than making art.

Of course this one view did not really open everything up at once. I have been working on the problems for quite some time, having read and reread theory, studied paintings with a vigor that I have not put to use for quite some time, and so on. Just this week I stumbled on a used copy of the second printing of Etienne Gilson's Painting and Reality, which has really helped me focus some of my thoughts, so this little epiphany did not come from a vacuum.

It makes me think about prayer and contemplation, as well as learning music. I don't know how it is for the rest of you, but I learn things in uneven steps and tend to get discouraged with plateaus. Spiritually it is the same. Obviously it would be semi-Pelagian to claim that we earn spiritual wisdom through our prayer disciplines, but it seems that God's grace often works in the same rhythm as the one that governs how I learn a piece of music.

There were times, particularly on tricky French baroque pieces that I almost gave up, threw in the serviette and said, "this is just too difficult. I am not ready" only to find that in the next week the difficult passage was there at my fingertips and was not only quite easy, but rather natural as well.

It all makes me wonder whether the intellect imitates the way Grace operates, or does God bestow Grace on us in a way suited for us to get it and to cooperate?

Anyway, it is a quarter to two in the morning, and I only meant to post a little thing about the joys of flying kites, with maybe a brief mention of how the Ferry Plaza is quickly becoming one of the world's great foodie meccas (it really is. If you want a foodie vacation, make a reservation at the French Laundry in Yountville, Chez Panisse in Berkeley, Oliveto's in Oakland, then spend a Saturday at the Ferry Building. I mention the French Laundry first, as it is notoriously difficult to get a reservation there, so once you do, schedule the rest of the trip around that). Instead I got off on something else entirely and am not really doing it justice.

The "Oh Crap" button

As soon as I hit the "send" button when I submit a story I get this immediate feeling in my gut that I have just done something horrible, that there is a section in the middle that is totally incomprehensible, nothing more than the deranged ramblings of a maniac. I first dread the phone calls from the editor: "uh, Erik, what is this relentless gibberish in the twelfth through fifteenth grafs all about?"

When the phone remains silent, I almost go into a complete panic: the dread silent treatment. This one was so bad that they are not even going to bother to call for clarification. In fact when I run into my editor downtown, she is going to avert her eyes, pretending to have animated conversations with whoever seems to be near.

What usually happens is a call for a minor clarification, and the incomprehensible gibberish seems to not be there when it appears in the newspaper, although I am not always convinced that it is because they edited it all out in charity. But when I look at the original and compare it, usually it is pretty free of totally incomprehensible gibberish, but there is always that brief panic when I hit "send."

Anyway, send has been sund and all is well. St. Gerome, pray for me, a miserable sender? Sounds fair. Stop me now, before I send again?

Weekend is here! Weekend is here! Any more writing I do in the next two days is for you, dear readers of the blog, and will be strictly for fun and not profit, so until then, go out and do something with your Saturday!

Oakland East Bay Symphony

Since I have a tight deadline tomorrow morning, I will be brief here, but the Oakland East Bay Symphony continues to amaze me. Once again Michael Morgan has put together a good program with two modern works, Beethoven's Fidelio overture (I would have struck that one, as there is little to be said in favor of Beethoven's one lame attempt at an opera, and the orchestra was a little dull on it), and Dvorak's New World Symphony.

Morgan's taste in contemporary music lists a bit towards the neo-tonalist side, so usually the contemporary pieces are mildly pleasant fluff to match the composer's hair (ever notice how neo-tonalists often are in need of haircuts? Of course I am currently in need of a haircut, and I am no neo-tonalist, so go figure). The world premiere was very good, though, as was the Zyman flute concerto.

I have to admit that I had never heard Zyman before, and was impressed. The concerto was good, solid neo-classical writing, without the irritating affectations that Stravinsky always brought to his neo-classical work. Soloist Elena Duran was definitely on top of the music.

As for the Dvorak, it is a great piece, and Morgan handled it well. I am pleased that the OEBS keeps getting better and better. It will never catch up to the San Francisco Symphony, but it is definitely worth checking out if you are in the area. Also, any excuse to go to Tim Pfluegger's glorious art deco masterpiece, the Oakland Paramount Theater, is worth the price of admission. If the music ever lags, there is always the ceiling (and the walls, and the mosaic work and the lobby, and the carpet, and the fixtures) to look at.

I kind of wish that they had the Paramount's organist playing show tunes as patrons found their seats, as they do during films. He usually plays pieces from the films, and I think it would be interesting to hear the symphonic music on the Mighty Wurlitzer. Sometimes it would really be an improvement. Then, as the concert master enters the stage, the Wurlitzer could descend into its pit, with the audience clapping along to the Paramount theme.

If Michael Morgan reads this blog he will probably forbid me from ever interviewing one of the OEBS guest artists again, but if the suggestion just hits the right ears...

Plunk. Plunk. Plunk.

Most of California is a Mediterranean climate, that is, semi-arid. It stops raining sometime around April and starts in October, more or less. We depend on stored water for the dry season (as well as for more arid regions that have been settled or farmed). We need rain. Without rain we have terrible fires and water shortages.

So, I realize that I am being a complete ingrate when I whine about the rain, especially since we have not really had that much this week, but it is driving me a bit buggy. We had great weather, perfect for long strolls and for chasing around Amalia in the park, just a couple of days ago, and I have to admit that I miss it.

Staying inside should inspire me to get some projects done, and it does, but I still feel somehow cheated every day that it is not 80 degrees and sunny with 15 hours of daylight. But so it is with seasonality, and we have other consolations (persimmons, pomegranites, pumpkins).

Anyway, not much more here today, as I have another concert to review tonight (and it comes with a brutal overnight first thing in the morning deadline), so this pathetic little whining will have to do. I am sorry. Hopefully I can post some more interesting reading matter over the weekend.

New Pantry Chef at Chez Keilholtz

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Oakland, California - Executive Chef Erik Keilholtz is proud to announce the addition to the Chez Keilholtz kitchen staff of pantry chef Amalia Keilholtz. Miss Keilholtz, who began her apprenticeship at the age of about 17 months, and today passed her exams, by helping Chef Keilholtz in a way that actually brought forward progress to the meal, without the need for constant intercession and correction. While she has not yet moved from dull plastic knife to sharp knife, she is making tremendous progress, ably demonstrating her ability to hold it correctly and to properly dismember her plastic vegetables.

The feat that convinced Chef Keilholtz that Miss Amalia was ready to wear a Keilholtz apron was her successful taking apart and sorting (very proud Babbo!) of a large cardoni into sections for various prep treatments.

To help Miss Amalia celebrate her promotion, Chef Keilholtz gave her a tall glass of juice and endured the "Elmo Song" CD for one go around. He drew the line at watching a movie, saying, "Amalia, I am very proud of you, but after all this fun in the kitchen, why would you want to watch the Fishies?"

Miss Amalia, through her PR firm, expressed amazement that Babbo is so excited about her progress in the kitchen, but, hey, he's kind of crazy, and I like all the attention.

Anyway, 26 months and she helped for real in the kitchen, with a tricky vegetable. Babbo is very proud of his little chef!

Prayer Requests

Please add a prayer to your daily prayers for the repose of the soul of David Silveti.

Cardoni

Cardoni (Cynara cardunculus) appeared in the market near my parents' house, so I bought a bunch to cook up tomorrow. They are quite a bit of work (unless you get them very young and tender), but worth it. They are the ancestor of the artichoke and are cultivated for the leaves and stalks rather than the flower buds. Their flavor is sort of like artichoke heart, but with pronounced herbal notes. The texture is akin to celery (and the trimmed heads look a lot like monster celery stalks).

I am going to parboil them (after trimming and cutting into 2" long pieces) in acidulated water, then tomorrow I am going to bake them in a gratin with a touch of garlic, gruyere, reggiano parmeggiana, a bay leaf, a little thyme, and creme fraiche. I will probably do a pork roast over a wood fire and a green salad with fuyu persimmons and pomegranite seeds.

This is just about the perfect fall menu, as far as I am concerned (especially if finished with a slice of almond torte and a glass of calvados).

As you all know, I am constantly awed by the changes in seasons, and the most by late autumn. Right now we are in the period that the East had a month or so ago. The skies are blue, the leaves are changing (every year it gets better as Californians figure out what trees to plant for fall color), and the smell of wood fire in the air is no longer a terrifying omen.

One of my favorite way to watch the change in seasons is the change in the stained glass windows at church. As the light switches direction, different colors are highlighted. It is like a jewelled sundial.

Today we are going to be outside almost all day. Amalia is finally over her cold, I am caught up in my newspaper assignments, and there are several days of exploring the world to make up! I am thinking that we may need to go foraging for nettles and acorns.

I love this season!

Belated Friday Five

1. What food do you like that most people hate?

Organ meats in general, with tripe and sweatbreads topping the list.

2. What food do you hate that most people love?

Hard-cooked eggs (also scrambled eggs, poached eggs, basically my limit to egginess is frittata, souffle, quiche, tortilla. The next step to overcoming my egg aversion (caused by a childhood allergy, so that I never associated that awful smell with food) is... fill in the blank, I am open to suggestions).

3. What famous person, whom many people may find attractive, is most unappealing to you?

I find Julia Roberts one of the ugliest actresses around.

4. What famous person, whom many people may find unappealing, do you find
attractive?

Hmmm. I will have to think about that one.

5. What popular trend baffles you?

Most of them. Tattoos, piercings, "alternative rock", nostalgia for the 1970's, liberalism, disco, meatloaf revivals, Wicca, people who are into Wicca as well as Lord of the Rings, Seinfeld, Friends, come to think of it just about all of the TV shows that are popular.

Music in the Time of Dante - playlist

Recommended Recordings for Music in the Time of Dante.

This is not a complete list, but just a few picks of discs that I used for my lecture on Music in the Time of Dante (although I did not play examples from all of them, due to time constraints, they were all on hand). Most of it is 13th and 14th century material, although I included some earlier material for background listening. These are all from CDs, as I was too busy (or lazy) to burn selections from LP to a CD to play demonstrations of. If you have any questions on any of these discs, or would like further recommendations on music of the period, please let me know and I will hopefully be of use.

Gregorian Chant/Gregorianischer Choral
Choralschola der Wiener Hofburgkapelle under the direction of Fr. Hubert Dopf S.J.
Philips, catalog number 411 140-2, although I would guess that if it is still in print it has a new number.
I hear plenty of Gregorian chant on Sundays, and can sing it myself if I want to hear a melody from the Liber Usualis, so I don’t have that much in my collection, so I list this one only because I used it. I would recommend, however, avoiding those awful CHANT recordings from the Spanish monks. You could do better organizing a dozen neighbors to form a chant choral group.

Music of the Gothic Era
The Early Music Consort of London under the direction of David Munrow
Archiv Productions, Catalog number 471 731-2
A good compilation of Notre Dame school organum, as well as ars antiqua and ars nova. Well performed, although generally reflects accepted performance practices of the mid 1970’s, so if you are looking for cutting edge research to be reflected, this is not the disc to get. Otherwise I would call this 2-cd set the package to buy if you only want to spring for one title of this kind of music in your collection.

Love’s Illusion: Music from the Montpellier Codex (13th Century)
Anonymous 4
harmoni mundi france
HMU 907109
The Montpellier Codex is one of the most important sources we have for 13th c. music. The Anonymous 4 are a fine ensemble who really do justice to the material.

The Way of the Pilgrim: Medieval Songs of Travel
The Toronto Consort under the direction of David Fallis
Dorian Recordings
DOR 93214
Mostly 13th c. material, well performed.

Music of the Crusades
The Early Music Consort of London under the direction of David Munrow
London
430 264-2
Some great 13th c. stuff on here, mostly French.

Music for a Medieval Banquet
The Newberry Consort
Harmonia mundi/Classical Express series
HCX 3957038
Italian ars nova, with pieces by Landini, Ciconia, and Bologna. Great recording at a budget price. The only drawback is the ugly packaging.

Le Roman de Fauvel
Dominique Visse, Anne Azema, Ensemble Project Ars Nova, The Boston Camerata, under the direction of Joel Cohen
Erato
4509-96392-2
This is a great reconstruction of the incredibly important Roman de Fauvel, in which 167 pieces of music were included in a great early work of political satire. I must warn you that this recording might be a bit much for the average listener, as it includes recitations from the Roman as well as the music examples. It is well worth it, and the notes are quite good.

Saint Francis and the Minstrels of God
Altramar Medieval Music Ensemble
Dorian Discovery
DIS 80143
These folks have taken texts from St. Francis as well as his early followers and have set them to melodies from laudi spirituali from two manuscripts. While the results are not really reconstructions of early pieces, they certainly capture the spirit and are wonderfully musical. Highly recommended.

Acantus
Acantus
Gimell
CDGIM 516
These folks are trying to show connections between 14th c. music and modern Italian folk music, which, while based on a large grain of truth, can be dangerous, as one can get carried away. However, they are excellent musicians, have done their homework, and the record is a fun one.

A Dance in the Garden of Mirth: Medieval instrumental music
The Dufay Collective
Chandos
CHAN 9320
Speaking of affinities between modern Italian folk music and medieval music, take a listen to the saltarelli and trotto and compare to the current saltarello tradition. A great disc, full of fun dance pieces.

The Courts of Love: Music from the Time of Eleanor of Aquitaine
Sinfonye under the direction of Stevie Wishart
Hyperion
CDA66367

Chominciamento di gioa: Virtuoso dance-music from the time of Boccaccio’s Decamerone
Ensemble Unicorn
Naxos
The music on this disc is great, but I can’t speak to the notes, because I borrowed this from a friend, and did not have the booklet. Some great saltarelli and trotti.

The Medieval & Renaissance Harp
Elena Polanska, Harp with La Camerata
Vox/Turnabout
PVT 7146
Good music, well played.

The future of arts journalism

First, read this from Teachout. He makes some excellent points about the direction that the mainstream culture is going in regards to the fine arts. Our local bloated pig of an NPR affiliate gave up on its classical music programming years ago, leaving the field to a horrendous commercial classical station that seems to think that all Western Art Music can be reduced to a few dozen selections (each one individual movements, rather than complete pieces). Fortunately not all stations have gone this direction, in fact, the excellent Capital Public Radio out of Sacramento has great classical programming (in fact they have improved over the past few years), and there are scattered shows on other smaller NPR affiliates and community stations.

Teachout sees the future of arts journalism as the Internet, and he is probably right. The newspaper chain that I write for is doing a slightly better job of arts coverage than it did a few years ago, but all it would take is a change of editors and we would be joining the trend. The San Francisco Chronicle, which has never really been a powerhouse of arts coverage, has sunk to incredible depths since becoming a Hearst paper. I still see some good pieces in the LA Times, the NY Times, and the Wall Street Journal, but there is only so much they can do.

While there will still be some arts magazines, many of them have theorized themselves into oblivion, searching out avant-gardes in an age when the term "avant-garde" makes little sense. In the meanwhile, the Internet is free (or nearly free), and allows for rapid exchange between members of the arts community. Critics, artists, theorists, audiences, all can participate. The initial noise of excessive voices will diminish as various aspects of arts coverage become self-selective.

Farewell tomatoes

A foodie friend of mine mentioned that he bought a hot-house tomato this weekend. I looked at him with a mixture of pity and contempt. The poor fool is desperately trying to extend the season. I suppose he is one of those guys who hands around the ballpark all winter trying to soak up the atmosphere.

One of the farmers at the market yesterday had a crate of tomatoes, which were OK looking if you overlooked the fact that they were not vine-ripened and had more of the smell of foliage than fruit. I suppose if you were looking for tomatoes to embalm or photograph, then they would be OK.

I refuse to eat an out of season tomato. OK, not true. I refuse to buy an out of season tomato. If someone serves me one, fine, I'll eat it, but I do not see the point in paying outrageous prices for the flavorless ball of fiber that pretends to be a tomato. Not when I have been eating perfect ones for 50 cents a pound.

So it is now the canned tomato season in California, which is fine. You ought to see the cans shimmering on the vine. Lovely sight!

It makes August all the better (I decided this year that I will resist the temptation to buy early crop tomatoes, as they are always a disappointment). So now I turn my gaze to fennel, truffles, mushrooms, roots, winter pears, apples, pumpkin, and I start to think about game.

This year I have decided to extend my pumpkin repertoire. I have always done pumpkin ravioli and pumpkin pie, but this year I want to explore the range of the pumpkin. Pumpkin panna cotta with acorn brittle crust and nutmeg whipped cream. Pumpkin fritters. Foie gras with pumpkin confit (if I can come up with some flimsy excuse to spend that much for foie gras, then to have the guts to experiment with it instead of just doing a known dish). Perhaps I will try some form of autumnal ratatouille.

I always like autumn, even though my favorite season is late summer. Autumn is a good time for reflection, for observation, for hiking and probably for baking, if that were my thing (Melanie is the family baker).

I will try to give recipes of my experiments, and will certainly post reports of the successes and failures.

Pork Chops with herbs

I have needed to do some fast cooking these days, as I have been pressed for time so often. Tonight I fried pork chops (boneless loin chops from Niman Ranch) in butter (I have been using cultured, unsalted butter - never use salted butter. If you need salt, add salt. The salt in butter is used simply to extend shelf life and can mask rancidity, which can destroy a dish) and then dressed them with this:

1. Chopped winter savory, French rue, lovage leaves, fresh thyme, fresh sage, fresh Italian parsley, fresh marjoram.
2. Greek Kalamata Extra Virgin Olive Oil (good cooking oil, cheap at Trader Joe's)
3. A dash of balsamico (the good stuff, decidedly not from Trader Joe's)

and served them with a simple salad (mesclun with Dijon, balsamic (this one Trader Joe's) vinegar, and kalamata EV olive oil and a sweet batard. The wine was Croc Rock Shiraz (another good cheapo from Trader Joe's). It took a total of 25 minutes to cook and was delicious.

I also want to share with you how I have been doing sausage recently. My preference is to grill sausage over a wood fire, but the rain has put a damper on my enthusiasm there, so I have been browning them, then adding a generous splash of dry Marsala, covering the pan and simmering until done. Not only does it make the sausages taste great, but it yields a nice simple sauce for dipping bread into.

I have also been experimenting with my own sausage blends, but have yet to make one with Marsala (I ran out of Marsala and keep forgetting to get more when we are at the store), but I will report once I have done so.

Making Progress

Two concerts down, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel (until a new batch of assignments comes crashing down on me, which I hope and pray is the case). Unfortunately, on top of it all, Melanie and Amalia both came down with the flu, so in addition to writing, cleaning house for the inlaws' visit, and so forth, I have been the family nurse. Since I have the bedside manner of Dr. Frankenstein I hope I have done right by them.

"Vat? I did not get zis alleged flu, it must be in your Kopf, no? Vat you need is fortitude, ja? No more bellyaching! Ve must march! Onvard! No complaining! Links! Rechts! Eins! Zwei! Eins! Zwei!"

They don't put up with it, though. I suppose they have a point that one does not generally fake a fever like that. I still cannot figure out why it has passed over me, when I have been burning the candle at both ends, staying up to 2 each night, and waking up at 7. I am not designed to operate on 5 hours of sleep, so a crash is probably inevitable. Uggggh.

Anyway, I saw Paul Simon and that funny looking blond fellow with the frizzy and balding head who acts like he is on dope. Good show, but the Everly Brothers, who were on as guests for three songs, sang circles around Simon and Garfunkle. Watching Paul Simon do this strange little rock and roller strut with his acoustic guitar, completely overpowered by the orc-looking fellow on electric was amusing. At all of 5' not many" poor bald Simon looks more like the fellow who sweeps the service station in the mornings (and is not to be trusted with complex tasks like pumping gas), out for an evening at the local tavern, doing his little strut to the jukebox after a couple of beers too many. He has a silly serious look while he is pounding his leg while strumming an acoustic. Giggle.

Great song writer, though, and he still can sing quite well.

Tonight was Andrea Bocelli, who deserves a full entry in this blog. I went expecting to be pleasantly amused, and came away really admiring him. The problem that most classical and opera folks have is that they try to see him as a classical singer, and he isn't. His tradition is a pop music tradition. Mario Lanza is much more the model than Domingo.

Anyway, I will post a review when I get it done (it is due Monday at 8am), or when it goes to press (I really do not like to scoop the paper on my blog), but the thing that struck me was how well he sang the operatic material. I have always found his voice on recordings to be a little thin, often strained, and overemotive, but in concert he was in full control of his voice, which was rich and full, and perfectly suited to the material on the program. Basically, I would recommend seeing him if he comes to an area near you.

He was with Maria Ana Martinez, who is quite a good soprano, so that was definitely a plus. I detest ex-Mrs. Lloyd Weber's voice, and was very glad that she is not touring with him.

So, that is where I have been these last couple of days. I have more writing to do, more deadlines, etc., but I will really try to keep all of you, my loyal readers, entertained and enlightened!

Sorry for the lack of posting

I have two concert reviews, a restaurant review, two CD reviews and a feature all due in short time, so I will not be posting with my usual frequency. The one thing that I hope to do in the next couple of days is to post my recommended listening list for the Music in the Time of Dante lecture. Eventually I will post some notes as well, but they will have to wait. I also have some recipes to share, featuring fish with cheese (the results of a debate with my friend who knows who he is and will probably post some snide comment).

Your Marching Orders

To my loyal minions and fellow travellers, all party cells, and allies!

Please be advised that on this day, the Fourth day of November in the year of our Lord 2003, Duce Keilholtz has mobilized all troops for the following action, known from this point on as Operation Advent Shroud.

Whereas retailers are obnoxiously jumping the gun on Christmas earlier and earlier each year,

Whereas if action is not taken soon we will soon be confronted with Christmas trees in July,

Whereas if the Duce hears "Jingle Bells" too many times before December 25th he gets notoriously grumpy and will start ranting around the clock causing Great Consternation to the Long Suffering One,

Whereas the crass commercialization of Christmas is a disgusting perversion of the True Faith reducing the greatest gift in history to an excuse to move more cheaply made merchandise at the expense of slave labor in China,

Duce Keilholtz hereby gives orders to his minions, loyalists, allied cells, party members, and assorted schmucks walking around with their hands in their pockets looking for something to do to remedy the situation by direct action, namely throwing purple cloth over any Christmas decorations encountered before the second Friday after the celebration of the New Beaujolais.

Attached to said purple cloth should be a little card wishing the retailer well, but pointing out that jumping the gun on Christmas is short-sighted, wrong, destroys the proper season of Advent, and should cease immediately or ultimately the retailer will have to cancel his Independence Day sales in order to prepare for the Christmas rush. Furthermore, the card should urge that Christmas decorations that are shrouded until Christmas would provide great copy for local papers that are starved of interesting stories beyond the usual holiday schtick.

We had Swedish food at the cheapest restaurant with a view of the Bay (yes, they do sell furniture and houseware) and they had a Christmas tree up in the cafeteria. Then I went to the bakery today and Lakeshore Avenue is bedecked with evergreen shrubbery (they look particularly silly under the trees that are beautiful in their autumnal red, gold, and orange). I have had enough and will be making a trip to the fabric store for some purple cloth.

Right now we should be making preparations for Beaujolais nouveau, not Christmas.

Signed and commanded by the Duce through the Proper Channels.

Believe, Obey, Fight!

Ha Ha Ha

It has happened! Someone found my blog while googling "Ramadan porn." Lovely!

Dear Pervert (I am being uncharitable, you could be looking for rational discussion of the behavior of Mohammedan men during Ramada, but I will assume the worst and maybe will be pleasantly surprised later),

Please clarify what you are interested in. Is it pornography featuring burqas? That would be a rather futile thing, which I suppose is something in favor of Mohammedan dress codes. Or are you looking for something that shows Arab women nekkid? Are you looking for pornography that is sanctioned by Wahabbi clerics for use during Ramadan (not exactly porn, but obscene nonetheless would be the typical Friday afternoon sermon in just about any Wahabbi mosque)? Or are you looking for something that would be seen as sensual but forbidden, especially during Ramadan?

If you clarify I might be of some use. Meanwhile, why not forgo the porn and the Mohammedanism and become a Catholic and know God as He is, not as some crazed nomad imagined Him (with the aid of a demon)?

Carthago delenda est.