Being a New Yorker sometimes you don’t realize how many different kinds of great food you have in an area until you move to a new place. Which I’m sure this is the case for many people from a great many places as well. I love Living in my new hometown of St. Louis but sometimes I miss some of the creature comfort’s of the comfort food I had available . So in my case I decided to make it myself, to which I’m Thoroughly pleased with the results.
Taking a drive on this long missed sunny day.
Early morning at my home working on various things around the house. Taking a break tasting tea and discussing it.
Chef Marc shows us his rendition of an old-time Italian favorite of Linguine and clam’s and enjoys himself in the process.
How some grind pepper without a grinding mill or electrical device.
A documentary that basically tried to celebrate the life’s efforts, and challenges, of an amazingly courageous Chinese restauranteur, and defector of Communist China. It was just awkward for me and even a little sad to watch. You got the sense that a couple of powerful foodies decided; “Hey the world needs to know about this before we lose her and her knowledge to time”, and then went about in attempting to canonize her in a documentary.
It was palpable that the filming of this matriarch of Chinese cuisine didn’t herself, appear to be in the flow of it. There was one part where Alice Water’s puts another portion of food on Mrs. Chiang’s plate earlier in the films informal dining scene, to which She’s say’s, “I have plenty already.
I wanted it to be so much more.
I wanted to see and hear more about Cecilias past in the states and maybe some interview with her daughter extolling moms culinary vision of classic Chinese food, past and present, but no. It just felt akin to me like, if I was to wheel out my grandfather to tell of his amazing story with his triumphs and challenges, trying to edify him for all the world to appreciate him like I do, and all the while during the course of making the film he would correct and talk over the praises of him, which in the end no matter the amount of editing would still make the documentary still feel awkward to watch. In the end I still give kudos for even attempting any kind of Visual presentation of a persons life.
Big bad fire in Peekskill lastnight. The life altering blaze was a few buildings up from my beloved coffee house, and hangout. which I was blissfully, and espresso-ly trapped at for hours, whilst my truck was smack dabbed non-parkos-mentis (surrounded by firetrucks & fire hoses), with all access and exiting of the wintery glistened streets to a halted until fire/rescue had finished their greatly esteemed efforts.
I imbibed all manor of coffee house drink, until, I could randomly run no more to the restroom to seek porcelain solace within. The café was kind enough to let me wait it out, and see if I could drive home but it didn’t look like it was to happen, for a long while, so I left my truck and hoped for a ticketless retrieval in the early morning.
I made it safe and sound to my warm house. I put my hand on the knob of the door to go inside, mentally saying a humbled thank you for my immediate circumstances, and hoping and praying for the displaced couple’s.