A miscellany like Grandma’s attic in Taunton, MA or Mission Street's Thrift Town in San Francisco or a Council, ID yard sale in cloudy mid April or a celestial roadmap no one folded—you take your pick.
Our dear SoCal pal (& Robert Frost’s Banjo special correspondent from LaLa land) Audrey Bilger is on sabbatical, & we say “yay” for that! & we especially say yay because it appears Audrey may be contributing to the blog more frequently, & that’s just great news. Tomorrow we’ll begin a two-part feature by Audrey, titled Way Before the “F” Word: An Early Feminist Tea Party; the feature will conclude on Friday. Be sure not to miss this very chic party where you’ll have a chance to rub elbows with Mary Wollstonecraft, Aphra Behn, Christine de Pizan & Catherine Moorland (among others). What an affair!
In other news: especially to our friends in the UK: please keep an eye on the gig schedule of the fantastic banjo duo Blueflint; sounds like their upcoming cd should be out soon as well. These women & their pals play some fantastic music, so if you have a chance, please do check them out!
Also: a better-late-than never announcement: fans of our Musical Questions series will no doubt remember the interview with Earl Butter of the legendary San Francisco cowpunk band, the Buckets. Earl & friends have recently released a cd of music recorded in 2002; the album is called Sod, & you, too, can own a copy by traveling to CDBaby. The Buckets are a fantastic band, so you won’t be sorry. In the meantime, here are a couple of videos of classic Buckets in all their raucous glory—June 25, 1994 at the Hotel Utah, San Francisco (I was there). Please note Wanderlean Taters (AKA Carrie Bradley) also of Robert Frost’s Banjo Musical Questions fame.
Oh, yes—the next Moon, June, Spoon entry will be up Saturday afternoon. Please stay tuned! Pic: Eberle & Audrey & friends at the Magic Kingdom, March 08
Some of the remarkable things about blogging have come out in my posts of my Dad’s photos from the 30s. First, I’m very happy that people from many places have seen his images, & it really makes my heart glad to see the comments they’ve received. My father didn’t understand computer technology very much—he had plenty of smarts, but it was past his time, so to speak, & I think he would have marveled at people from far & wide being able to see this pictures.
Another wonderful thing about blogging, of course, is both the community & online friendships it can build. In that sense, I’m so gratified that Jacqueline T. Lynch of New England Travels (a fantastic blog, & one you really should check out) took the time to research a question that came up about the most recentDad’s Photos post—namely: what was the story behind the zeppelin nightclub “outside Springfield, Mass,” as my father said in his caption, before he observed, “All that goes up is prices”?
Jacqueline left the following answer in the comments on that post: “Your zeppelin-shaped nightclub was ‘Toto's Zeppelin Nightclub’ located not in Springfield, but across the river in Holyoke.” But she went one better, because she added a full post about the nightclub on New England Travels today—the link is right here.
Thanks a lot Jacqueline, & hope any folks who had questions (or who are curious now) head over to New England Travels to get “the rest of the story.”
A couple of folks seemed intrigued by my mention of a dish called “Pasta Alleluia” last Sunday, & so I decided to make a batch for Eberle & I, & to post the recipe here. It’s been a little while since our last foodie post, but I hope you’ve come with a good appetite!
Of course, I mentioned “Pasta Alleluia” in the context of Original Poetry Sunday, which means it also exists as a poem. I’d thought about including that with the recipe, but instead I’m going to post it for the next Original Poetry Sunday, so look for it then.
I remember the first time I heard about Pasta Alleluia. I was living in San Francisco & hanging out one day with old poebiz pal Jonah Winter. Jonah was living in a house full of the wonderful Leone family & also playing in Ed’s Redeeming Qualities with Dani Leone (Jonah being a multiple musical threat on accordion, mandolin, clarinet, pennywhistle, vocals & cardboard drum). I don’t remember the context of the conversation really clearly, tho it may well have had to do with eating well on the cheap. Needless to say, the name “Pasta Alleluia” really stuck in my mind.
It turns on that Pasta Alleluia is a Leone-ism for pasta aglio é olio, which as you may know is pasta with garlic & olive oil. As such, it’s a very basic but very tasty dish; & as Chris Leone has described in some detail to me, it can be expanded upon with ingredients ranging from humble to exotic. In the years that I’ve experimented with Pasta Alleluia, I’ve come up with the following: Ingredients: About 1/3 cup of good extra virgin olive oil: Sorry, but most of the measurements/quantities for this recipe are pretty impressionistic. Several cloves of garlic, minced: I’ve used as many as 7-8 cloves of garlic, but Eberle & I love the stuff. Still, I wouldn’t cut that down too much, since the infusion of aglio in the olio is the basis of the whole recipe. Ground black pepper to taste: Don’t skimp A pinch or so of salt: Remember—the olives are salty! About a cup of chopped mushrooms: Or perhaps a tad more. We’ve used the generic store-bought mushrooms, & fresh morels & the mini portabellas, & they’re all good. Around two dozen olives, pitted & halved: Kalamatas are the best, but any old olive will do (except I avoid the canned variety). Roughly 1/4 cup of roasted pine nuts About a teaspoon of oregano About a tablespoon of basil 1 lb. of spaghetti (or linguini)
That’s it—& remember: everything after the salt (except the pasta of course!) is optional, & you could substitute any number of items; sun-dried tomatoes would be wonderful, for instance.
Heat the oil on medium & then add the minced garlic (I also reduce the heat a bit when I add the garlic). Sauté the garlic for a few minutes until it’s golden, then remove the garlic from the oil using a slotted spoon. I keep the garlic aside in a small dish, because I add it back in again at the very end, but this isn’t absolutely necessary. Then, add black pepper, salt & the chopped mushrooms; sauté the mushrooms for several minutes, then add the olives & the oregano. You could also add the basil now if you’re using dried basil. If you’re using fresh basil, wait until just before serving. Again, sauté for several minutes, then add the pine nuts. Throughout this process, I use a medium low heat. After I add the pine nuts, I turn the heat down & cover.
This sort of oil-based sauce doesn’t like a long cooking time, so by now you should have your water boiling & your pasta ready to cook. Cook your spaghetti as you usually would, & when there’s a couple of minutes left for the pasta add the garlic back in (if you wish). You could also add the fresh basil. Drain the pasta, & toss it with the oil sauce. That’s it—of course a salad is de rigueur with this. Buon appetito!
Back-to-back “Fold-Out Postcard Sonnets?” Yes, I must have been typing away feverishly 13 years ago. On the non-poetic front, there will be another post this afternoon. In the meantime, more of Marlowe’s disembodied cogitations….
6/9
The blue cars sighing a little like zippers unzipped in a breathless studio apt in the midst of this miserable sonofabitch effluvial moonlight that’s sweating like a bottle of Mexican Coca Cola in the
Sacramento bus station May 1988 It felt like a country radio station sobbing sucrose & Dear John letters & Pictures from Life’s Other Side across a Formica counter in the midst of Marlowe’s nervous
collapse like a red dwarf star’s collapse like the red tip of Alice’s Marlboro collapsing into an ashtray amidst a fistful of ocotillos when it was too late after all & Marlowe
feels like Ambrose Bierce in the midst of Mexico D.F. in the midst of life & so forth & after all darling the blue cars come to a stop at the stop sign
In honor of the very recent (& apparently very potent) full moon, some more “moon songs” for your consideration. This really should have been up yesterday evening for the full moon, but so it goes. For some cogent observations on the power of the full moon, please check out Life at Willow Manor & The Gold Puppy.
In the meantime, enjoy!
East of the Sun (& West of the Moon): I love this song, so the parenthetical mention of the moon carries full titular force with me. This tune pretty much has it all—lovely melody, great swing, & enchanting lyrics. When it’s sung by Sarah Vaughn, what more can you ask for? Sarah Vaughn:Sarah Vaughn in Hi-Fi (Columbia)
Fly Me to the Moon: What a gem, & so versatile—play it fast, play it slow; play it in 4/4 or 3/4 (Eberle & I used to play it in waltz time in Five & Dime Jazz, flute & electric guitar). It’s true that everyone thinks of this as Sinatra’s song, but check out Astrid Gilberto’s version sometime—you won’t be sorry! In case you don’t know, Ms Gilberto’s was the voice for the classic bossa nova recordings of Jobim’s “Girl from Impanema” & “Corcovado.” Astrid Gilberto:Astrid Gilberto’s Finest Hour (Verve)
Honeymoon Blues: So I asked myself—is it “fair” to include “honeymoon” title songs? & I said, of course, because that gives us “Aba Daba Honeymoon” (see last Wednesday’s post) & the great bluesman Robert Johnson, who promises to take his beloved Betty Mae for a honeymoon “in some long, long distant land.” From what I understand, by the way, the term “honeymoon” came from a tradition of in-laws giving a newlywed couple a months supply of mead or honey wine. Robert Johnson:King of the Delta Blues Singers, vol. 1 (Columbia—I have this on vinyl, but Columbia has re-issued this on CD)
How High the Moon: Another favorite old standard “moon song” that really swings. As you can see, I happen to have a number of recordings of this tune, but for some reason I don’t have the classic Les Paul-Mary Ford version. Not to worry—thanks to YouTube, you can listen to that one below. Being a guitarist, I really like the Barney Kessel & Django versions. Grappelli-Kessel: Stephane Grappelli Meets Barney Kessel (1201 Music), Lionel Hampton: Flying Home (Living Era), Sarah Vaughn:Sarah Vaughn (Compact Jazz), Mary Stallings:Mahattan Moods (Concord), George Shearing:Jazz Masters 57 (Verve), Django Rheinhardt: Django the Unforgettable (BGO), Charlie Parker:Confirmation: Best of the Verve Years (Verve)
Howlin’ at the Moon: For some very good reasons, a lot of folks immediately think about songs that tug at the heartstrings or sound flat-out haunted when they hear the name Hank Williams. But Hank could sing some wonderful up-tempo, good-humored songs, too, & “Howling at the Moon” is one of them. The storyline is pretty basic—he’s so worked up over his gal that he’s giving the proverbial howl (& doing some other odd things, like trying to fill his horse with gasoline). A fun tune, & there’s the wonderfully cheesy wolf howl thrown in for good measure. Hank Williams:40 Greatest Hits (Polygram)
I Wished on the Moon: This is another personal favorite in the “moon song” category, with words & music by Dorothy Parker (!) & Ralph Rainger; Parker was in her Hollywood years. The song was introduced in The Big Broadcast of 1936 (a film I haven’t seen) by der Bingle himself. I have a few recordings of this; if I had to pick a favorite, I might lean toward the Geroge Shearing version, with vocal by Teddi King. The other two are also fine; as far as Ol' Blue Eyes goes: as you can probably guess from the title, that’s not the last time I’ll refer to this particular Sinatra album. (Coleman Hawkins:Jazz Masters 34 (Verve), George Shearing:Jazz Masters 57 (Verve), Frank Sinatra:Moonlight Sinatra (Reprise—on vinyl & in mono)
If the Moon Turned Green: This is a tune I know about only because of our dear friends Audrey & Cheryl. They sent me a wonderfully generous package of cds on my 50th birthday, & among those was the 3-disc set Stitt’s Bits –BeBop Recordings, 1949-1952. This little number is on disc three, from the time Sonny Stitt was playing with Gene Ammons. The vocal is by a singer named Larry Townsend; Stitt contributes a beautiful (but short) solo, playing tenor sax on this take. Sonny Stitt:Stitt’s Bits –BeBop Recordings, 1949-1952 (Prestige)
For your morning diversion: the next in sequence of my 1996 sonnets. I do expect to be posting again, tho, probably mid-afternoon out here in spacious Mountain Time.
Hope you enjoy it.
6/8
Marlowe at 1-something a m on a worknight’s like a typewriter with a case of yellow fever a ‘56 Chevy Bel Air rusting in a humongous ice rink
like a cigarette butt with hepatitis B a rheumatic 2-slice toaster clogged with poached eggs & who crammed the poached eggs into the slot
In the dream Marlowe’d rather have for breakfast he tells Charlotte all the relevant stuff like a wedding band made of lips
like a peach crate come down with textbook melancholia & Spring is springing like nothing off a trampoline in a wood-paneled rec room
With apologies to all, I have to say I don’t have a new poem for Original Poetry Sunday—the ghazals feel a bit stalled right now, but I haven’t decided what this means—so I’m posting one of the poems I wrote last spring. Especially in light of yesterday’s “autobiographia literaria,” I thought this might be interesting.
Between late June & early July (about two weeks) I wrote seven poems, all on a “food” theme; in addition to “French Toast,” there were also the following:
Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
Potato Salad
Pasta Alleluia (a bit of an “in joke” here—a name for pasta aglio é olio)
Macaroni & Cheese (this has been posted on the blog here)
Fondue
Greek Salad.
While I believe all seven are good poetry, I do feel at a bit of a distance from them for a variety of reasons. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it—& hey, French Toast is always great for your Sunday brunch…. & be sure to check out the following other blogs (at least) for Original Poetry Sunday:
Goldfinches camped out & hectic atop the yokes of dandelions asked the musical question I couldn’t catch—the world grows larger some days
the fruit trees blooming white & pink & rustling with sparrows— the world gets smaller—a kitchen beating free-range eggs with a fork in a red glass mixing bowl &
how much cinammon & nutmeg whisked into the eggs these things are measured in pinches like a dream I dreamed dreaming What larks! everything’s a laugh—
meadowlarks giggling in the pasture just now this orange & blue marmelade morning L’amour la poésie means nothing more than the world transformed thru a lonesome
Hank Williams’ whippoorwill yodel or the paired low C’s vibrating over a mandocello’s mahogany soundboard a scrumptious breakfast with sunshine
pouring Grade A fancy amber through the matchstick blinds a peal of lovely laughter a rupture in the world’s brown eggshell— the world grows large again back at the ranch I’m
dipping wheat bread into the egg mixture the unsalted butter skating across the cast-iron skillet the egg-soaked bread sizzles in goldenly—& orange wedges drip on blue plates my blue
heart my red heart my golden heart opens & closes & shrinks & grows— the world I know the people I hold in my heart as it grows & breaks—the
world is el corazón in a Mexican painting the brown eggshell broken & full & inscribed—the goldfinches scattering into the blue from the blossoms &
the French Toast’s served with Grade A fancy light amber like a window—the golden crust this morning is everyone’s sweet eggshell heartache
