Ashes of the Dead

A giant mushroom cloud of crushed concrete and pulverized interior dust blew up into the heavens and drifted downward enveloping the earth like acid rain. We breathed the ashes of the dead and changed forever. I gaze in astonishment at the abbreviated skyline, the brilliant sun suddenly setting unobstructed. I look away with eyes fading from crimson to gray and sink my head deep into the sand surrendering. I breathe in the damp cool grains which fill me with waves. It must be a dream, dreams woven into dreams, spun gold and black threads unraveling, spooling, reweaving, a tapestry of joy and despair crushing the abbreviated skyline into golden dust. October 2001

We think mom has cancer. She needs to have a biopsy, but the "spot" on her lung has grown and she coughed up blood yesterday. I'm encouraging her to change her already healthy diet by completely eliminating meat and dairy and incorporating more beans, whole grains and tofu into her meal plans. I'm a big fan of the "Mediterranean Diet" and Annemarie Colbin's take on natural cooking, which is a less restrictive version of Macrobiotic Diet and focuses on whole foods.

Mom knows how to cook vegetables, fish and legumes, but is unfamiliar with using tofu. My long term cooking, teaching and eating experience is continentally omnivorous, with all kinds of meat and fish, but very little tofu. So, today, I invited mom and my brother Richard (who lives with and often cooks for mom) and went out and bought a few different varieties of tofu to experiment with: smoked, curried, silken, and extra firm.

After a quick soak, I started simmering a pot of black-eyed peas with a mirepoix (and garlic, of course). Then I added the smoked tofu for a vegan version of the flavor of ham. I added a tad of tamari, a dash of ume plum vinegar and some fresh chopped parsley. Voila! Not too bad!

I've got a couple of very ripe plums that I am cooking with some fresh ginger. I'll serve that with the silken tofu. I love the creamy custardy texture of silken tofu...it is certainly an under appreciated ingredient!

Pullin' the plug on grannie?

"Of course" we don't want end of life counseling and the subsequent official directives that would force the Health "Care" System to allow you to chose to die, at home, surrounded by your loved ones, with enough medication so you are actually free of pain and suffering. Why not? Because that would mean a lot less money pouring into the Health "Care" System on god-only-knows-what life extending equipment, making you breathe, pumping "food" into your gut while you lie there in your excrement waiting for an underpaid/overworked someone on their rounds to actually change your diaper. And when, god forbid, you crash, they'll jolt you with electricity, maybe even crack you open to get your heart beating again, so they can keep you, the cash cow you have become, alive. You can last a long time this way, and thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars will continue to pour into this Health "Care" System all in the name of "preserving life".

Yes, end of life directives can save money, since most people want to be allowed to die, with dignity, in their home whenever possible, and not extend their suffering and the suffering of their loved ones watching their inevitable demise. It is this savings that has the Health "Care" System so afraid. So, they are fighting it with all this fear-mongering about Nazi-like government run "death panels". Be afraid! Be very afraid! But not of end of life counseling, be afraid that the Health "Care" System gets their way, and thwarts any kind of reform.

An addendum to this post...my mom, Claire, died in the home she lived in for almost 50 years, on October 27th, (the day before her 82nd birthday) cared for by the hospice care angels and her loving family. That's the way I wanna go...no hospital rooms, no tubes, no IV's and no fluorescent  lights...surrounded by my loved ones, great music, and plenty of pain medication.

Come and get 'em!

My cousin Paul lives in suburban Connecticut in a nice house on the top of a hill. For awhile he had chickens complete with a coop in his backyard. He had more eggs then he knew what to do with. He'd rave about the color of their yolks, how rich their flavor was, and how you should NEVER EVER refrigerate them. I admit, after tasting them, I WAS kinda jealous.

He'd let the girls out during the day, and they'd roam around eating whatever seeds and bugs and so on they could find in his (spacious enough, one would think) backyard. Then, the pickings got slim, and they started escaping in search for a more abundant buffet. Before he knew it, his chickens were roaming his upscale neighborhood. His neighbors were NOT amused.

And then, they began disappearing, one by one. Various critters were hunting the chickens for their own gourmet meals. Word had gotten out in the wild that there was a "live poultry market" on the top of the hill. Come and get 'em! And they were gotten, one by one by one. Much to the relief of Paul's community when the last hen bit the dust, he gave up raising chickens.

"cock-a-doodle-do"?

I'm wondering...when on earth did a rooster move into my neighborhood?

Yesterday, at sunrise...I'm hearing a "cock-a-doodle-do!" WTF? I've never heard that before IN PERSON! (It actually does sound like that!) I say to myself, that I've gotta be imaging it...and then...another..."cock-a-doodle-do!"

This morning? The same thing! The noisy little bugger. Hmmmm...I'm thinking....COQ AU VIN.....

I love a good burger once in awhile...

My favorite has been the burger and excellent fries at “The Farm on Adderley” right around the corner. Made from “pasture raised” beef ground and mixed in just the right meat/fat ratio from a cow fabricated in-house, this exceptional burger is served with the most excellent fries: crispy and tasty and so very addictive.

I like my burgers on the rare side: nice and juicy. The Farm became a place where I could indulge my occasional carnivorous cravings. But, as this restaurant and its burger kept getting good press and accolades, its kitchen became increasingly unable to consistently cook the damn thing correctly. Mostly it would be overdone. If it wasn't too over cooked, I'd sometimes eat it anyway, other times I'd send it back and wait for another. Regardless, I continued to be a big fan, and would rave about the burger to any and anyone who would listen.

But then last night: THE LAST STRAW. Hungry, I dropped by and ordered a burger "medium rare, on the rare side please!" at the bar. I waited and waited and waited (the place was empty...why the wait?), perched on one of their new (unbelievably uncomfortable) bar stools. When it finally arrived, it was very well done, grey, and dry. I sent it back. I waited and waited and waited some more (shifting my butt back and forth on that hard wood) and finally got another burger: this time, so raw, there wasn’t even any “black” with that “blue”. I sent it back and left. It was an hour and ten minutes later and my butt couldn't take it anymore.

The bottom line? I’m SOOOOOOO disappointed. What am I gonna do without my local burger fix?

Fat Pants & Funky Tee

well, now that I sorta set this site up...the sun came out! Now, what to do? Sit here and attempt to add content and photos and (in my tech compromised torturous manner) "customize" my page?

OR

do I get dressed in something other then my fat pants and funky tee, wrangle my hair into something respectable and get my butt outside?

Finally....

yes, I here I am finally setting up my blog. After all this time! A lazy rainy day, been sitting around on my butt, playing on my computer. Might as well do something a tad productive! So here goes...basic layout...a few sentences that don't mean much of anything...and voila...I'm a blogger!