Friday, October 28, 2005

looking back: last weekend, before it’s too late; PLUS SWEET AND HOT CARROTS AND ZUKES

Oh man, how could it be Friday again and I have not even expounded on the last weekend, which was so joyful and delightful?  Here’s a brief recap before it fades into the mists:

I knew Friday was wrapping up well when I saw my favorite headline in months: Leak Probe Fallout!  How embarrassing!  What’s that coming out your leak probe, Scooter?  Is that a little fallout?  Not on my watch, capt’n!  I ended Friday (last) with a successful meeting and some good Zak and Kel time, and even 20 minutes of shuteye.  Then I drove ten minutes down to the ‘Mo while listening to some of my favorite music on the a.m. radio.  I left my car as dave drove up and we walked together to the venue and breezed on in through a fairly active sidewalk scene.  The show: DSO, as usually, played superbly, and the show they replicated (cuz that’s what they do), 6/6/76, is from my favorite slice of the G-Dead era.  Blazing Sampson D opener; blazing MNS; blazing Big River; blazing Lazy Lightning into Supp Jam; blazing Promised Land… two full sets of really first-class American dance music. 

But there was also - the scene: it was one of those shows where I’m likely to be around the middle of the demographic and there’s all kinds of lonely old freaks getting their harmless groove on.  This could easily have been one of those shows. Instead, I was one of the older people there, and I was surrounded by beautiful, youthful people who knew the Dead better than I did.  The first set was normal enough, about fifty feet out from the stage (house left), surrounded by a widely disparate crowd.  Then, during halftime, we met up with a friend of Dave’s from work and his friends, we forged our way to near the stage for the second set, and the tone of the evening shifted for me.  Suddenly I was mostly surrounded by beautiful women.  This has happened to me a few times before ... on the bus, or in an elevator ... the law of averages almost dictates it.  But I’m not used to it at an hour-long dance concert.  A rotating harem of dancing beauties circulated around me, each minding her own business but indisputably there adjacent to me.  It made for an entertaining evening, even apart from the blazing tunes. (And for the record, Kel was at home that night.  Dave had called the day before with a single ticket and I grabbed it.  Rather unlike my recollection of guys’ nights out, but maybe there have been developments in the past few months of which I was unaware.)

Finally, there was the Fillmore staff, who provided unending amusement and entertainment.  Four brief examples: watching the door staff loudly and vituperatively “86"ing a young man, shouting at his back as he muttered imprecations to the sidewalk and walked away as quickly as he casually could, “that guy doesn’t belong here!  86’d for LIFE!” For life, dude.  Bummer.  Within a few moments I was walking in past the same door staff, on the heels of a lovely young woman.  They checked her ID: “oh, you’re so young!” Then they checked mine: “Oh, you’re not.” Yeah.  heh.  shuddup.  Then there was the heroin chic bartender, all hot in her light black dress and long blonde dreds, looking bored and tired; I’m thinking as I watch her filling orders, I guess these guys see it all, they don’t care who’s on stage, it’s all the Fillmore to them and all we are is a bunch of slightly more courteous hippies, I guess this music means nothing to them ... and then she broke out singing along with the band to the chorus of Brown Eyed Women, which is a good barkeep’s song (brown eyed women and red grenadine, the bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean...).  Nice to know the ‘heads are around even where I am sure they aren’t.  And then, finally, on the way out of the venue, the staffer who stood out on the sidewalk littered with dazed dancers at one a.m., shouting his reminder to us: “Make sure you brought your shoes out with you...” Thanks, Mr Man, for that important reminder.  I wasn’t going to forget, but I can see there were a lot of unshod folk out there who needed your help.

So that was Friday.  Saturday was dedicated to housecleaning, shopping, and cooking dinner for Sha and Helena, who finally got to meet Zach.  I made orange roughy in a tagine sauce, fried plantain chips, a white bean and garlic puree, and a very tasty veggie dish I’ll describe more fully: 

SWEET AND HOT CARROTS AND ZUKES

The key to this recipe is julienning: you need a mandoline or a food processor that will chop toothpicks out of your veggies.  (And not just for this recipe - you need one anyway, in general.  Make a note of it.) Julienne some carrots (I didn’t measure a damn thing so you’re going to have to play this by ear) and get a little olive oil nice and hot in a pan.  Fry up a small handful of red pepper flakes in the hot oil, and once that’s cooking along add the carrots and some raisins; stir it a little to get it all in the oil.  Fry it up till the carrots are about cooked, and then add a tablespoon or three of sugar; stir well.  Then dump in about twice the volume of julienned zukes than you used of the carrots, and a few ounces of rice vinegar.  Cook it all together till the zukes are cooked, and then drain off the extra liquid.  It�s damn good stuff, and a cheerful addition to the plate.  Helena, whom I did not realize didn’t eat fish, was very gracious and said it was just as good as having a real supper.  I am dishonored, and the inclusion of a nice baked apple tart dessert in Bird’s Custard barely redeemed me.  Still, it was great to see S and H, and they were very gracious guests.

Sunday, then, was Dr Andy’s annual sukkot party.  The sukkah - a flimsy structure with branches for a ceiling and gourds hanging from the beams - stood on his new deck, which is palatial - stretching all the way up around the top of the big barrel hot tub.  I ate loads of roast turkey, spinach balls and dip, salads, fruit, home-baked challah, all kinds of tasty treats that I’m no longer clearly recalling - plus way, way too many of Kel’s pumpkin cookies, baked fresh that morning.  It was a great crowd and a great way to celebrate a great festival, even if we didn’t actually do an official lulav and esrog shaking ceremony like they tell you in the books.  Whatever.  We partied just as hard as any of them.  My favorite quote from the afternoon: “I have a plan.  All I need is a plane, a car, a house, and a stove, and I can blow somebody’s face off.” Jack said it, and I believe it.  And I don�t think there’s enough left to be said about my weekend to justify your time to read it, so I’ll leave it at that.  Today I have a big complicated important meeting that should be exhausting but fulfilling, and this weekend should be significantly less busy than last weekend was.  That’s good, too.  I’ve had a busy enough week already and I’m ready to take a nap. 

Seacrest out.