Sain't Christopher

Blackmail

I adore Elfini.  Let's be clear about that right off the bat.  We've know each other 23 years, been friends for almost 20, have seen ups and lows, highs and downs.  Ah. . . .

So, all I've asked of her is one small thing: make me a banner for the blog.

I even found a photo for her to use as the principal artwork.  Now, it's true I found it on Flicker, but the way I look at it, I found it on the internet, it'll still be on the internet when we're done.  Is it really a crime if you break in and just move the couch to the wall nearest the kitchen?

Also, the person who took the photo is called "Miss Ginsu".  As in the knife, a registrered trademark she appropriated without prior consent from Quikut, a division of The Scott Fetzer Company.  Granted, when busted it all worked out for her, so I don't see that she should have a problem with us using this great photo to make a banner.  And it is a great photo.  Look, it's right here.

But Elfini has taken "a position" that this would be wrong.  She thinks we need permission, she  . . .  Well, you can see there's no talking to the girl.  That's why we're reduced to this: blackmail. 

Oh, yes, I know much about Elfini before she became a fine upstanding soccer mom (yes, and name calling), a lot of it documented, even more of it fabricated.

I think this makes things clear.

Go in Peace

Subtle

George Michael Announces North American Tour
Former Wham Frontman Books Smaller, More Intimate Venues
Go in Peace

All Write

A couple of years back, I posted asking for recommended reading.  Mr. Bierman responded sending me four novels by Richard Russo and Orville Hubbard's severed ring finger.  Russo is now one of my favorite authors and I'm not sure how I'll ever repay Mr. Bierman for this.  Yesterday, between naps, I was re-reading Nobody's Fool and I snotted myself over this passage.

Rub's wife, Bootsie, was coming down the walk from their apartment, and she had a pretty good head of steam up, given her size.  As Wirf was fond of observing, there was enough of Bootsie to make two perfectly ugly grown women and enough left over to make the ugliest baby you ever say.  When angered, as she apparently was now, she was a fearful sight.

Go in Peace

Not Letting the Terrorist Win

In '96 Kaiser offered me a Biofeedback class as a treatment method for the migraines.  It was all kind of hippy find-your-happy-place sort of stuff but I was desperate after the failure of acupuncture therapy*.

*I may have upset the doctor with the question so what about when a headache pops up at the inconvenient hours before 9am or after 5pm?  Do I go to Emergency or just crack open my sewing kit?

The biofeedback was kind of useful, if a bit misguided.  It's documented that a person can biofeedback themselves out of an asthma attack. The best you get for migraines is a survival technique, not something that makes you put the imitrex away.

I did learn an interesting fact, tho.  People use biofeedback all the time. Subconsciously people are forever regulating their bodies to accomodate their stressful lives.  Headache sufferers can generally delay or displace the headache until a more convenient time.  A time people call "the weekend."  This is very true for me.  I've become a highly functional person whose Saturday mornings tend to suck.

Work has been intense for the last three months.  I'd been looking forward to break this Easter Weekend.  My plan was to work a few hours Friday and be out by 11am, free to spend a warm sunny day goofing off with the kids in the park.  Saturday I would sleep in late, listening to my fav NPR shows before spending a few hours cooking a Polish Easter feast for friends later that night.  Sunday I had plans to attend Glide with spiritual adviser LJR and her bestest friend, Laura. 

Sounds good, no?

All week I'd been covering for employees who were either ill or on vacation.  This added up to a 55 hour workweek by the time I went home Thursday.   Since Tuesday, I'd had a headache lurking at the edges of eyeballs, held off by the comforting thought that I just had to get thru to Friday morning and all would be well.  With Alanis Morrisette like irony, I had two sick calls and ended up having to work until late Friday evening.  I'm a mature, professional so I held the venting/whining to a minimum, only once stomping my foot and slamming my office door.

When Saturday morning came around and I had an Easter dinner to make, my brain went looking for serotonin and endorphins like a late night drunk searching for linked accounts on the ATM.  Carrying this metaphor a little further: I then did a credit card cash advance on my brain with a handful of Aleve, an ice cold shower and two double cappuccinos.

Dinner was a success.  I'm very pleased with the new dough for the pierogi.  The carrot bread was the best I've yet made and the kielbasa recipe I used is definitely a keeper.  The eight of us had a lovely evening and I felt really good about keeping my family's traditions alive.  At 9pm I said my goodbyes, hoping that 12 hours of sleep would leave me well enough for Church and lunch.  The throbbing pinpoint at my left temple, however, was sitting there with a collection notice and one of those repo man tools . . .

Salvation came when LJR called and said she and Laura would have to reschedule.  I really, really had wanted to make the same call to her.  A true measure of friendship is when you can cancel with the excuse I really need a day to just be alone, sitting around in my underwear and the other person totally gets it.

Saturday night at 9pm and I'm headed home, free to feel like absolute shit.  The headache was done with the subconscious, demanding now my full attention.  Within half an hour I was sitting at my desk lining up meds, water, ice pack, heating pad, ear plugs while the small siege engine parked itself behind my left eye.

My last biofeedback trick is this small brown bottle I keep tucked away in my filing cabinet.  Inside I have 3 dilaudid.  This stuff is pharmacological trump.  If a migraine gets too nasty for the first 4 lines of defense, it's in case of emergency break glass time.  I've had these same three pills for over two years now.  Just knowing that they are there relieves a lot of stress and is immensely more helpful than focusing on soft colors or serene settings.

It's past midnight. The first onslaught of the headache is over and soon I'll be getting the long, slow Chinese Water Torture portion.  I'm sitting here in the dark with even my computer screen turned low, all hunkered down and waiting.  In 10 minutes I can take my next med and then it's time to crawl into bed with the ice pack firmly pushed into my head.

No calls please.

Go in Peace

Mr. Smooth

Standing in line behind a cute woman at Cala Market

Clerk:  Ma'am, do you have a "Club Card."
Cute Woman:  Oh.  No, I don't
Me:  Here.  (hand over card)
Cute Woman:  Thanks, that was nice of you.
Me:  We're here to help each other.
Cute Woman:  What do you get out of it? (slight smile, arched eyebrow)
Me:  I get to feel like a superhero.  On a small scale, sure, but still.
Cute Woman:  Really?
Me:  When I get home, I'll probably don my cape.  You may "put on" other clothes, but a superhero cape you have to "don."
Cute Woman:  Funny.
Me:  I'm not sure where to take this next.
Cute Woman:  That's a shame.  See you 'round.

Two days later and I'm still wondering what the next line should have been.  I'm sure "Bat Pole" was wrong, but otherwise I'm drawing a blank here.

Go in Peace

Porn

The last couple of food fotos I've put up have been pretty darn appealing, if'n I say so myself. 

Years ago, I remember reading The Art of Subliminal Seduction and for years I saw hoo-ha's and peniseses everywhere.  Then Art Culinaire came along and turned simple food into straight out, 4 day free trial, porn.  Now it's everywhere and I find it so damned annoying because people wonder why my food doesn't look like this:

First off, who wants a dish that must be served at exactly 3:49pm so the shadow falls just soooo. . . This is the work of a food stylist, my friends.  And probably photoshop.

In a lot of the photos I post, the sauce has ran, the sprig of whatever is wilting and you can see the ceiling lights reflected in the plate.

Food is painfully hard to photograph and that's why the stylists brush on karo syrup and use tweezers for each piece of rice.

Good food looks better in real life and I almost never see it captured by a camera.  Some food you just can't help.  Here's a photo from Mike's Famous Ham Place in Detroit.  Mike's ham sandwich is up against 24 others for best sandwich in Detroit and while it doesn't photograph as well as the Smoked Salmon Reuben at the Beverly Hills Grill, it's a work of art that satisfies on all levels that matter.

Of course, I prefer Lile's  . .

Go in Peace

Chow

Dungeness Crab, Avocado, Tomato Salad with Lime-Melon Dressing

This is the finalized dish.  I've presented it a dozen ways and kind of avoided this because, well, everyone does something like this.  A pretty dumb reason, given that it really works so well.

Go in Peace

Foto Fun

"Right now, I'd like to do a little Frank Sinatra. Ha.  Get it? A little Frank Sinatra.  Ha. Ha.  Try the veal."

Even a 3 year old knows to do the official Karaoke face when singing Song Sung Blue.

  "I think that cow over there, he's laughing at our hats.  Our new hats!"

Ready for the cat walk.

This is the photo that Mommy will pull out to show the high school girlfriend.  HSG will spend the next month writing Mrs. Vincent James on her jeans and notebooks.

Go in Peace

Q & A

Baby sittin' the rugrats Saturday, I lost control of the TV.  They had to watch Clifford.  You know, Clifford the Big Red Dog.  Great barking cheese, but those are some boring cartoons.  The kids love 'em and I was quiet until this scene where a teacher has a 13ft bone strapped to the top of her car, a gift for Clifford.  What freakish kind of animal was slaughtered to give up a femur that big?  I know they live on an island, wonder if it's the same one they found Kong on?

Go in Peace

Chow

Stuff from last week

Lobster and Bean Salad, Grapefruit Salsa Verde
I love this dish.  Been working on getting it right for two years and this is it.  The slow roasted tomatoes and frilly watermellon radishes are perfect compliments and they look great.  I can retire now.

Chickory and Vegetable Salad, Sherry Vinaigrette
This is a new dish that needs refinement.  It's okay, but not great.  There needs to be a bit more going on.  Maybe toasted almonds around the plate.  Gotta think on this one.

Potato and Sheep's Milk Ricotta Raviolis, Braised Cardoons, Lemon Caper Sauce
This dish is partially there.  The boy named sous made a great suggestion: fry the capers crisp next time.  He's dead on.

Broiled Veal Ribeye Steak, Mustard-Herb Demi Glace, Corn Fritters on Sauteed Mustard Greens with Pancetta and Garlic
Only looking at the photo now, I realize the garnish on top of the steak is missing.  Damn. 

Pain Perdu with Honey Creme Friache, Cherry-Cardomom Compote
If I knew how to photoshop, I'd fix the cherry sauce to bright red.  Oh, Pain Perdu is what the French call French Toast

Go in Peace