lineage
i have become my mother and her mother before her
savoring the peace & chatter of our own minds
with a cigarette and cup of coffee at the kitchen table
even a bad cup of coffee or cold
a cup of anything, really
for my grandmother, in the mornings sometimes
a diet coke
i don’t go there very often
and maybe, maybe
the company & chatter of someone we love,
who opens our hearts, makes us feel closer to our own souls
usually, children or lovers or friends who might as well be
then we’ll hear you, clarion
and tell our stories truly
and perhaps make you pancakes
or something else fried; in olive oil, bacon fat or butter by generation
to salve it all
and feed these souls, now revealed
hungry
fried mashed potatoes
put a large pot of water on to boil. scrub 6 small potatoes; I like the red ones. Quarter them and plop them into the water at a rolling boil. Cook for 8-10 minutes or until soft. Drain and return to the pot if your pot can stand the up-coming beating or dump into a heavy bowl.
add three tablespoons of butter to the potatoes. Sprinkle liberally with sea salt and pepper and herbs; pick about 2 tablespoons of fresh thyme if you have it, but this round I just used dried thyme and basil, about a teaspoon each. Drizzle with about a ¼ cup of heavy cream. Using one of the most fabulous inventions of all time—the hand potato masher—mash mash mash. Save a few lumps for texture, having left the skins on helps some bits hold together (plus – pretty!).
shred about ½ a cup of hard cheese like parmesan or gruyere would be nice; we had some schmany delectable cheese I cannot remember the name of now. Beat an egg or, to be really decadent, an egg plus one yolk. Stir in half the egg and most of the cheese, just saving some for decorative pre-table topping, into the potatoes with a wooden spoon. Set aside the egg in a shallow bowl and whisk in a little cream. In another shallow bowl, spread panko flakes or bread crumbs.
heat a cast iron skillet or your heaviest, if you are not blessed with cast iron, which should acquire as soon as possible. Add a bit of olive oil or butter or a nice half’n’half mix of the two.
form the potato mash into patties, dredge quickly in the egg/cream, press a few sage leaves into it – or one big dramatic one- then press the patty in the breading, flip and press the other side. Fry. A few minutes on each side, going for golden brown. Transfer to a toweled plate to rest and drain excess oil.
you can fry two or three potato patties at a time, just be sure not to crowd the skillet. Dredge out any escaped bits of breading before they burn and taint your oil. This does not have to be a deep fry job; using just enough oil for things not to stick creates plenty of golden fried goodness to satisfy.
these are freaking amazing. I cannot imagine what they would not be good with, but here are some ideas: oniony, garlicky sautéd greens like kale or collards; veggie sausage (which I like to pepper a lot and eat with maple syrup) and a fried egg; red lentils with plain yoghurt and hot pepper sauce; fried apples’n’onions…oh, yes- with sour cream. I love fall.
The Eastern Corridor Bus Service and the Great American Media Perversion
I thought I had been to the pinnacle of bus-trapped insanity last summer, when I sat pinioned between adolescent girls popping jewel like jelly candies and chattering on cell phones about big city shopping shopping shopping, half drowning out the Chinese dubbed Tom & Jerry cartoons with Japanese subtitles but not the little butterball boy pin-balling up and down the aisle, burning off the giant soda and fries mama fed him at the rest stop. Oh yes, and oh—only to be topped by my most recent trip, coming home to Brooklyn breezes after an ill-timed vacation into the sweltering swamp that is our nation’s capitol in August.
I bought a ticket with a new company for some hope of not watching a movie, because the passengers vote whether or not to have one. I enjoy bus trips, even long ones, especially long ones, except for two things: the bad manners of fellow riders and forced media. I typically bring earplugs, but sometimes I forget and sometimes they’re inadequate. I’ve yet to acquire any nifty music playing/earphone device. So, I am compelled to at least listen which leads to watching whatever Hollywood swill they foist upon me.
As we’re departing, the bus is only three quarters full. There is a salt and pepper haired, tattooed dyke a row ahead of me, who delves immediately into her book. A Caribbean family with several small children make their way to the back. The white guy across the aisle helps me figure out how to work the seats and offers me a Ritz cracker before wrapping himself in wires and hunkering down behind his laptop.
Overall, the passengers vote to watch a movie.
“Tyranny of the majority,” I mutter.
I cannot remember the options now, but the group also voted for A Bronx Tale. “Good choice,” the bus driver approves. “It’s good for kids,” he adds. “There’s some swearing. And some violence. But no sex.”
And pops in the cd.
Some swearing, apparently, means the F-word as punctuation. And the N-word as an integral part of dialogue. This is a Robert De Niro film, and the violence is graphic. Mafia-style shootings. Threats and bullying. Racist brutality.
Excellent, edifying movies for children, no?
This is the great American perversion. Creation and tolerance of visceral violent imagery alongside puritanical veiling of sexuality.
Oh my God! Breasts! Cover the children’s eyes!
What would have been the same audience’s reaction had the driver shown, say, Boys on the Side or Philadelphia? I’ll admit it would probably be very uncomfortable to watch Shortbus or Fire with my busmates. Given the types of special gentlemen who often seat themselves beside me, it would be awkward at best.
What about Bend It Like Beckham? Wasn’t that rated G? I’d be fine to be trapped with a G movie to accommodate the most sensitive audience members. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Akeelah and the Bee—bring them on.
Really, though, can’t we all just read a book or something? Here are some good ones for your last long rides at the end of vacation season:
- Ultimate Gay Erotica 2009 by Jesse Grant (Editor)
- Baby Remember My Name: An Anthology of New Queer Girl Writing by Michelle Tea
- The Fan-Maker’s Inquisition by Rikki Ducornet
- The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters (not about sex, but in my opinion, very sexy and what I was reading or trying to read on this trip!)
Because I Love You Tuna Casserole
put your biggest pasta pot on to boil, and butter a large casserole dish that can go in the oven. heat your oven to 375°. When water is at a rolling boil, add a box of elbow noodles, spirals or other happy, short shape of creamy sauce holding pasta. Cook until al dente and drain while chopping veggies or making the sauce.
gently wipe clean a pint of mushrooms then separate their caps from their stems. Chop the heads and mince the legs. Set aside in two little bowls; you will need 6 little bowls to set your mise en place for this recipe. The Radical Muffin kitchen recently had a perfect set of nesting glass bowls move in so the cook is blissed out with happy, obsessive pre-chopping and arranging. Peel and chop a medium sweet onion, yellow. Chop three very green, delicate celery stalks. Shred a block of white cheddar cheese on the largest opening on a box grater. Drain two small cans or one big can and one small can of tuna – dolphin safe for heaven’s sake.
in a heavy bottomed sauce pot, melt two to three tablespoons of butter over medium heat. Add the onions and celery when the butter begins to foam, and sauté until soft, about 5 minutes. Stir in a teaspoon or so of celery salt. Toss in the stems of the shrooms then the caps and cook for a bit longer, until they begin releasing their juices. Sprinkle a small handful of flour (about three tablespoons or less; I have small hands) over this cooking base and stir, cooking the raw taste out of the flour for a few minutes.
pour in ½ a cup of heavy cream and a 1 ½ of whole milk slowly as you stir. Cook to simmering but do not boil and stir in a handful of shredded cheese.
eyeball how much of the pasta you will need to fill your casserole dish, and mix that amount with your sauce in a big bowl. If you like, and my best friend likey-likes, stir in a package of frozen peas or fresh if you are so lucky as to have them. You will likely have remaining pasta, for which there are 50,000 uses, and possibly sauce, which is great over broccoli, omelets, potatoes or more pasta.
in the casserole, make an initial layer of sauced noodles, about halfway. Sprinkle with a handful of cheese, and fork the pressed tuna out of the cans and over the noodles. Top the fish with another layer of noodles and liberally grind fresh pepper over these and sprinkle with celery salt. Cover the entire casserole with shredded cheese and dust with paprika.
bake in the oven for about 12 minutes or until the cheese is browned and melted. Traditionally, this is topped with crushed potato chips, which is a pleasure to be tried at least once. Buttered bread crumbs or pink flakes also add crunch. But for the purest comfort, I cannot help but love the gentle chewy crispness of cheese alone.
