Len's Recipe of the Month - January 2024

 

Well, it's not exactly my recipe.   This is Julia Child's famous Beef Bourguignon.  And I duplicated with two small variations.

I approach new recipes with caution.  I will always check out my favorite on-line chefs---Laura Vitali, Sip and Feast, and Valerie Bertinelli---for their take first. And guidance from America's Test Kitchen is also welcomed.   The variations from Julia were small.   She parboils bacon before browning it.   Unnecessary in my book.  The other difference came from Laura and Sip.   She cooks it on the stove.  Sip puts it in the oven.   I opted for the latter.  But, except for not having a bay leaf in the house, I followed Julia to a tee.   And I think it worked.

There are a lot of steps so take notes.   First off, get a 2-3 pound chuck roast and cut it up into two inch pieces.   Place in a bowl and thoroughly cover with a mix of flour, salt, and pepper.   Put aside.

In a Dutch oven, brown 1/2 pound of bacon cut into inch-long strips.   Brown for about ten minutes.   Remove and drain with a paper towel.

The bacon should have rendered some grease and brown bits so you will use that to brown the meat.  Pour the beef in, along with the rest of flour mixture.  When they get nice color, remove.

Now, again to the Dutch oven, add two to three carrots cut in two inch piece.  Add a chopped onion.   If there isn't much liquid on the bottom, add a few drops of water.  

Now add six cloves of minced garlic, along with a a tablespoon of tomato paste.

Okay, here comes the liquor.   Laura Vitali adds some cognac first...a shot glass full.  I didn't have cognac so I used brandy.   Then pour in three cups of a chianti or pinot noir wine.   Don't use a cabernet or anything pricey.   It will burn off anyway.   Three cups is mostly one bottle with enough wine left over for a glass with the finished product.

Add three cups of beef broth, along with some thyme.   Stir it all together.  Cover the pot and put in a pre-heated oven at 350 degrees.   This will all need to cook for 2.5 to 3 hours.  

When you get to the two hour mark, you want to start on the two other essentials for this dish.   In a pan with butter, saute a pound of sliced mushrooms.  Then add about eight ounces of thawed pearl onions (most people buy them frozen).  Pour the mushrooms and the onions into the Dutch oven and let it stay in the oven another ten minutes or so.

And, then, as Julia would say, bon appetit!

Dinner last night:  Swedish meatballs.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - January 22, 2024

Can you tell that people aren't used to snow in Seattle? 

Dinner last night:  Leftover chili.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - Snow Place Like Home

 

I am making a rare January visit to NY this week and I hope temperatures moderate before I arrive.   I've gotten soft at this age.   I mean, in LA, I put the heat on in the apartment if the temperature dips below 60.

When I was younger in my hometown of Mount Vernon, New York, I was a bit more resilient.  Here's me and Frosty in the backyard. I doubt I had little to do with his erection, so to speak. My guess is that my father crafted him and I was just made available for these Technicolor photo ops.  You can see my grandmother taking a gander outside from her kitchen window.

But, snapshots of freezing conditions tend to warm me now. Only folks who grew up in the cold can fully appreciate the heavenly nirvana that the winter season often provided those of us in the younger demos.  And these days, we live vicariously in California when those winter storms or plunging degrees hit the Northeast.  

Since I have friends back East, I go a little bit into "Storm Watch" myself.  I pay a bit more attention to the Weather Channel when they talk about impending doom.  Sometimes, I even listen to 1010 WINS on my phone for a while as if the closure of the Long Island Expressway matters to me three thousand miles away.

I live now vicariously with the white stuff and the cold that always accompanies it.  This is a direct reversal of what I longed for when I was the kid in the picture above.  Back when, I couldn't wait for....

A snow day.

Watching it come out of the sky in buckets.  Enjoying the comedy with my grandmother from her living room window as we watched people make that last trek to the grocery store for a pack of cigarettes.  Seeing my mother dig into the hall closet for that outfit I would be wearing just two or three days every year.

God, how I hated to wear all those layers.  And putting on boots??  Help!!!

This is what all us kids lived for. Indeed, the weather stars had to align perfectly and almost magically for us to get a day off from school. Ideally, you prayed for a big snow storm that would begin around 9PM on Sunday. Then it had to go all night long. That would result in teachers getting stuck coming back from a weekend. A healthy snowfall in the overnight hours could potentially screw up the entire school week.

Sweet.

Now, living in Mount Vernon and in close proximity to New York City, our snow days were tougher to come by. Mount Vernon liked to fancy itself as tough a gotham as the five boroughs to the south. It was hard to get a snow day in New York City. Mount Vernon was almost as difficult. Half the time, the two school systems played a game of chicken, waiting to see who was going to cave into the snow drifts first.

But, if you went to bed and it was snowing, you could dream. And wait for the alert. Oh, sure, there were the radio stations that listed school closings. You'd wait alongside the radio to hear your mom's favorite morning host and hold your breath.

"Rye Country Day School closed. All South Salem schools closed. All White Plains schools closed. Mount Vernon schools will be open."

Shit.

Or whatever expletive I would use when I was a seven-year-old.

In Mount Vernon, there was another snow day alert system in place. If schools were to be closed due to inclement weather, they would sound the loud piercing fire whistle at both 7AM and 8AM. It was terrifying to listen to, but glorious at the same time. It meant that schools were closed for the snow storm. Or we were being bombed by Russia.

If it was confirmed that I was now free for the day, I could leisurely go about my favorite indoor activities. Colorforms. Reading my current book borrowed from the public library. "I Love Lucy" reruns. "The Hollywood Squares." All would be sheer bliss until the expected cry from below. Either from my grandparents or my parents.

"Come help shovel!"

Fuck.

Or whatever expletive I might use as a ten-year-old.

When I countered that I was just a kid and of little help, I'd get a horrible threat thrown right back at me.

"Do you want your father to have a heart attack and die?"

Well, er, no.

I'd go outside and make a feeble attempt at pushing some snow around. Eventually, somebody would notice.

"Oh, you're just making a mess. Go in the house."

Done.

Once the clean-up was over, I was free and clear to go play in the snow. If drifts were high enough in the yard, I'd take my dog Tuffy and watch her get lost in the yard. When I got older and graduated from cute little snowmen, we'd focus our time on constructing snow forts from the huge hills plowed by the Sanitation Department in the street. I'd seek out my neighborhood best friend Leo and we'd have ourselves a time defending some Alaskan stronghold from enemy attackers.

Or with the slight slope of 15th Avenue, we'd all commence belly flopping and hit the sleds. You had to be crafty at the bottom of the incline or else you would sled yourself right into busy traffic on First Street. Down there, you'd find some of the neighborhood urchins engaged in more sinister winter activities. Throwing iceballs at bus windows whizzing by.

Looking back, I don't think we had more than a handful of these snow days. 

The one I remember most happened around my birthday in February of 1969. A Sunday night storm that lasted into Monday. We didn't go anywhere for three days. If you lived in Queens where New York Mayor John Lindsay had forgotten that he had snow plows, you didn't leave your block until April.

When I went to college, we absolutely craved the prospect of a crippling snow storm for completely different reasons. Holed up in the co-ed dorms with no classes. Sadly, it never happened during my four years at Fordham. Essentially, the Jesuit-based school administration told us to go to chapel and pray to the Virgin Mary that the snow would melt. So much for twelve inches of snow and some sex, beer, and rock and roll.

Once you start working for a living, snow stories are no longer anticipated with glee. Because, even with eight inches of the white stuff on the ground, that usually isn't enough to close your office. When I commuted to Manhattan from Westchester, I used to laugh at the folks in the office around me. Those who had to travel the farthest in the blizzard all made it to work. The Manhattan dwellers, meanwhile, had major problems simply trying to cross the street.

I do recall one blizzard that crippled everybody and closed offices all over New York. Again, it was a perfectly timed storm. On January 8, 1996. It started to snow around 8PM on Sunday and it didn't stop until Tuesday afternoon. The entire metropolitan area came to a screeching halt. 

Me?  I hunkered down in my Westchester apartment and even remembered swimming laps in the pool downstairs. An odd thing to do on one of the worst days of the winter. I subsisted on chicken noodle soup, Taylor Ham sandwiches, and Turner Classic Movies. And ultimately unplugged the phone to stop all the annoying telemarketing calls that come in during the daytime hours.

By Thursday, New York tried to go back to work. The only problem was that Westchester commuters had no way into the city. Metro North had about five trains left that weren't stuck in some Doctor Zhivago-like snow drift. And it was even worse trying to get home. At 5PM, Grand Central Station was so crowded that it looked like Ellis Island in 1912. 

To make a bad night horrific, my train north broke down at the Sputen Duyvil station in the Bronx. We were all cast adrift in some dark neighborhood, each city block more sinister than the next. I had to piece together a route home that included a bus, a subway, and a lot of walking through slushy water. I didn't get home until 9PM. My feet didn't dry until August.

That would be the last major snowstorm I would live through as a New Yorker. 

I moved to Los Angeles the following year. Now, when I go back East, a few inches of snow are a personal delight. Because I know that I'm not there on a permanent basis. I always know I can go home. Where a predicted 20% percent chance of rain can cripple Beverly Hills.

No, I don't go on Storm Watch for rain here.   But, when it's snowing back in New York, I climb into my bed and turn on 1010 WINS.  It's a lot more fun hearing about the closure of the Saw Mill River Parkway when you're under your comforter in Los Angeles.

Okay, Mother Nature, I am eastbound this week.  Behave!

Dinner last night:  Gelson's chili.

Classic TV Theme Song of the Month - January 2024

I've been binging this show lately on Hulu having never seen it the first time.  The opening song remains eternally infectious.

Dinner last night:  Sausage and diced tomatoes.

Your Weekend Movie Guide for January 2024

 

Well, something had to open the Radio City Music Hall in 1933.  It might as well have been Mr. Ape himself.   I wonder how many Rockettes got stepped on.

So what is destroying our theaters in January 2024?   I am guessing plenty.  You know the monthly drill, guys.  I'll give you my gut reaction to what's playing at the movie houses via Fandango.   Instead of bananas, you might want to bring some rotten eggs.  To throw at the screen.

Mean Girls:  A remake of junk filmed in 2004.  Isn't that a little quick?

Wonka:  At least the original was shot in the 60s.

The Beekeeper:  Don't get stung.

Killers of the Flower Moon:  Blog review coming.  I'm still waiting for the movie to end.

Anyone But You:   The way Democrats view Trump.

The Book of Clarence:   The Bible except with Black people.  Turning water into Ripple.

Oppenheimer:  Reviewed here recently.   The Oscar front runner.   Not on my ballot.

The Boys in the Boat:   Reviewed here recently.  The best picture of 2023 and getting no Oscar buzz.  Inexplicable.

The Color Purple:   Apparently there are people who think they can improve on Steven Spielberg's work.

The Iron Claw:  Not craw, it's claw!   Get Smart circa 1967.

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom:  All wet.

Night Swim:  A killer pool.  I guess they used too much chlorine.

Migration:  Animation.  Unlike the cartoon going on at the southern border.

American Fiction:   White people are bad...the next installment.

Poor Things:  Reviewed here recently.  Perhaps the worst movie I have ever seen.

The Boy and the Heron:   To be followed by "Heron, Come Home."

Double Down South:  Keno-pool gambling, whatever the fuck that is.

Cult Killer:  About a cult killer?

Founder's Day:  A slash fest in a small town.   Yeah, that's been done before.

The Hunted:  Refugees capsize and rich Europeans take them in on an idyllic island.  Sounds like Sanctuary Island.

Wanted Man:  Starring Dolph Lundren and Kelsey Grammer?????!!!

Which Brings Me to You:  Without even looking, I can tell you this is a dreary romcom.

Ferrari:   The car designer.   Post-battle with Ford?

All of Us Strangers:   A gay ghost story.   I always wondered about Casper.

Zone of Interest:  The commandant of Auschwitz moves his family next door to the camp.  Kids, don't worry about that smell.

Dinner last night:  Grilled beef sausage.

Mediocrity On Steroids

 

Whoops.  What happened here?

You may have heard about this on the news.   An Alaska Airlines door broke in the early stages of flight.   Unlike Van Heflin in the movie "Airport," nobody got sucked to their death.   Somebody actually found the door in their backyard.   And, oh, yeah, they also found a passenger's cell phone...still working.

Now I am sure this is aberration.  A quirk in design.   A faulty nut or bolt.   The odds of this happening are a billion to one.

Or are they?

You see, I am of the opinion that you are going to see this happening more and more.   In cars.  Buses.  Trains.   Or anything really that requires engineering to be superlative and flawless.  Back in the day, companies hired the best of the best to do their maintenance.   The best person got the job.

Not so much anymore.   In our D-E-I world, qualifications often take a back seat to employment quotas.   Wait!  We don't have enough women.  Or Blacks.  Or Asians.  Or transgendering folks.  You see, those requirements come first.   Then they will take into account someone's skills on a secondary basis.

You think I'm kidding?   It's now happening in doctor's offices and hospitals, too.  As well as the United States Postal Service.   You may have read about my frustrations there in a previous blog post.  

This has become a nation no longer of excellence.  It is a country where mediocrity is not only welcomed, but strived for.

And the toilet bowl flushes one more time.

Dinner last night:  Leftover beef bourguignon.

This Date in History - January 17

 

Remembering the Northridge earthquake which happened on this date in 1994.  Mercifully, I was in my living room in Yonkers, New York.

38 BC:  OCTAVIAN DIVORCES HIS WIFE SCRIBONIA AND MARRIES LIVIA DRUSILLA, ENDING THE FRAGILE PEACE BETWEEN THE SECOND TRIUMVIRATE AND SEXTUS POMPEY.

I want to know more about this Sextus thing.

395:  UPON THE DEATH OF EMPEROR THEODOSIUS I, THE ROMAN EMPIRE IS PERMANENTLY DIVIDED INTO THE EASTERN ROMAN EMPIRE UNDER ARCADIUS.

At the Arcadius, can you play Pacmanius?

1524:  GIOVANNI DA VERRAZZANO SETS SAIL WESTWARD FROM MADEIRA TO FIND A SEA ROUTE TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN.

So how come the bridge goes to Staten Island?

1608:  EMPEROR SUSENYOS I OF ETHIOPIA SURPRISES AN OROMO ARMY AT EBERNAT.  HIS ARMY REPORTEDLY KILLS 12,000 AT THE COST OF 400 OF HIS MEN.

12,000 to 400?  That's like a New York Giants score this past season.

1773:  CAPTAIN JAMES COOK COMMANDS THE FIRST EXPEDITION TO SAIL SOUTH OF THE ANTARCTIC CIRCLE.

You know it's going to be cold there?

1799:  MALTESE PATRIOT DUN MIKIEL XERRI AND OTHER PATRIOTS ARE EXECUTED.

And    Tom Brady was spared.

1880:  FILM PRODUCER MACK SENNETT IS BORN.

Hit somebody in the face with a pie.

1885:  A BRITISH FORCE DEFEATS A LARGE DERVISH ARMY IN THE SUDAN.

Those Dervish were sent whirling.

1899:  THE UNITED STATES TAKES POSSESSION OF WAKE ISLAND IN THE PACIFIC.

World War II battle to follow.

1899:  MOBSTER AL CAPONE IS BORN.

Chicago gun battle to follow.

1904:  CHEKHOV'S "THE CHERRY ORCHARD" RECEIVES ITS PREMIERE PERFORMANCE AT THE MOSCOW ART THEATER.

Book report to follow.

1912:  CAPTAIN ROBERT FALCON SCOTT REACHES THE SOUTH POLE, ONE MONTH AFTER ROALD AMUNDSEN.

What was this?  Season 1 of the Amazing Race?

1917:  THE UNITED STATES PAYS DENMARK $25 MILLION FOR THE VIRGIN ISLANDS.

It would been $20 million if they were the Non-Virgin Islands.

1922:  ACTRESS BETTY WHITE IS BORN.

Still pissed that she just missed 100.

1927:  SINGER EARTHA KITT IS BORN.

Santa baby, I'm gonna need a crib.

1928:  HAIR STYLIST VIDAL SASSOON IS BORN.

Oooh la la.

1929:  POPEYE THE SAILOR MAN FIRST APPEARS AS A COMIC STRIP.

Well, blow me down.

1931:  BASEBALL STAR DON ZIMMER IS BORN.

The metal plate in his head came later.

1933:  PUPPETEER SHARI LEWIS IS BORN.

Oddly, Lamb Chop was born the previous year.

1942:  BOXER MUHAMMAD ALI IS BORN.

Well, he was Cassius Clay on that day.

1946:  THE UN SECURITY COUNCIL HOLDS ITS FIRST SESSION.

And immediately breaks for lunch.

1949:  COMIC ANDY KAUFMAN IS BORN.

Or so we're told.

1950:  THE GREAT BRINK'S ROBBERY IN BOSTON.

Two million dollars stolen from an armored car.  Which makes it a lousy armored car.

1961:  US PRESIDENT DWIGHT EISENHOWER DELIVERS A FAREWELL ADDRESS TO THE NATION BEFORE LEAVING OFFICE, WARNING PEOPLE AGAINST THE DANGERS OF MASSIVE SPENDING.

Meanwhile, when is tee off time?

1964:  MICHELLE OBAMA IS BORN.

Calorie count on that birthday cake:  850.

1977:  CAPITAL PUNISHMENT IN THE US RESUMES AFTER A TEN YEAR HIATUS, AS CONVICTED MURDERED GARY GILMORE IS EXECUTED BY FIRING SQUAD.

Glad they didn't miss.

1991:  OPERATION DESERT STORM BEGINS EARLY IN THE MORNING.

And was over six weeks later.

1994:  THE 6.7 NORTHRIDGE EARTHQUAKE.

And, to think, they're waiting for the one here that will be 7.3.

1998:  MATT DRUDGE BREAKS THE STORY OF THE BILL CLINTON-MONICA LEWINSKY AFFAIR ON HIS WEBSITE.

Who broke the story about the ten others he screwed?

2003:  ACTOR RICHARD CRENNA DIES.

The Real McCoy.

2005:  ACTRESS VIRGINIA MAYO DIES.

Held.

2008:  CHESS PLAYER BOBBY FISCHER DIES.

Checkmate.

2010:  AUTHOR ERICH SEGAL DIES.

Death Story.

2011:  PRODUCER DON KIRSHNER DIES.

It's midnight again.

Dinner last night:  Coconut chicken tenders.