- "The Emerald Law" Probot
- "Excitable Boy" Warren Zevon
- "Hey Pete, Let's Eat Mo Meat" Dizzy Gillespie
- "Ballad of a Thin Man" (live bootleg series version) Bob Dylan
- "My Son Calls Another Man Daddy" Hank Williams
- "Wild Man Blues" Jelly Roll Morton
- "Rikki Don't Lose that Number" Steely Dan
- "The Nurse" White Stripes
- "What in Sam Hill . . .?" Big Dipper
- "You Can Never Hold Back Spring" Tom Waits
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Random Playlist, fuel for writing and the drinking of delicious black coffee
Manchild
Despite reservations, the writing went well, and I got out about 800 words. Under my aim of 1,000 at a sitting, but I was happy with what came out so we'll leave it at that.
I've been using Walker Percy's The Moviegoer as a priming mechanism. The writing is so damn good that it makes me want to write. So I read a few pages, start feeling the energy, and drop the book.
It's also for this reason that I haven't been able to get through this short novel despite weeks of reading.
I have another Percy novel, his last, that contains one of my favorite opening paragraphs. I would quote it, but I don't have the book with me, but I promise to transcribe it at a later date.
Tonight I have to get back to the homestead, cook up some rice and broil some chicken -- let the cleaver ring!
Tomorrow, I'm going to try my hand at rolling some dumplings with a filling I'll make myself from pork and leeks.
*
And then there's the matter of the stock.
The price of lobsters has plummeted, so I purchased a legless wonder at the local supermarket for a few beans, as well as beef bones for stock. I've never made lobster stock before.
The spirit of experimentation!
So the result, after hours, seemed brackish and damp. It smelled of the swamp.
I'm still hoping that after cooling and reducing, it'll make a usable stock. I have my doubts. For Jess, it goes beyond doubt and she'd probably be happy if I buried the mixture out in the hills. Ah, poor Jess, putting up with the curious manchild.
I've been using Walker Percy's The Moviegoer as a priming mechanism. The writing is so damn good that it makes me want to write. So I read a few pages, start feeling the energy, and drop the book.
It's also for this reason that I haven't been able to get through this short novel despite weeks of reading.
I have another Percy novel, his last, that contains one of my favorite opening paragraphs. I would quote it, but I don't have the book with me, but I promise to transcribe it at a later date.
Tonight I have to get back to the homestead, cook up some rice and broil some chicken -- let the cleaver ring!
Tomorrow, I'm going to try my hand at rolling some dumplings with a filling I'll make myself from pork and leeks.
*
And then there's the matter of the stock.
The price of lobsters has plummeted, so I purchased a legless wonder at the local supermarket for a few beans, as well as beef bones for stock. I've never made lobster stock before.
The spirit of experimentation!
So the result, after hours, seemed brackish and damp. It smelled of the swamp.
I'm still hoping that after cooling and reducing, it'll make a usable stock. I have my doubts. For Jess, it goes beyond doubt and she'd probably be happy if I buried the mixture out in the hills. Ah, poor Jess, putting up with the curious manchild.
So Holy Shit
Kelefa Sanneh wrote a great piece on Will Oldham over at the New Yorker. It's online and you can read it here and savor its oddball life-affirming details.
Sasha Frere-Jones notes elsewhere on the website that the number one selling vinyl album of 2008 was "In Rainbows."
Number two? Fucking "Abbey Road," mother fuckers.
Sasha Frere-Jones notes elsewhere on the website that the number one selling vinyl album of 2008 was "In Rainbows."
Number two? Fucking "Abbey Road," mother fuckers.
Random Music: all of which seems to sound damn good right now
- "The Soul of a Man" Blind Willie Johnson
- "Cocaine Habit" Old Crow Medicine Show
- "Troubled Waters" Cat Power
- "That Lucky Old Sun" Louis Armstrong
- "I Walked with a Zombie" Roky Erickson and the Aliens
- "Hated Chinee" Rapeman
- "Breakfast in Bed" Dntel
- "I Thank You" Sam & Dave
- "Mica" Mission of Burma
- "To Susan on the West Coast Waiting" Donovan
Uighurs, Tibetans, and Dai, oh my!
Because of all the early dismissals from work due to storms, these past two weeks have been fairly relaxing -- at least those falling after Christmas. This kills my paychecks, but bolsters my sanity, so, at least temporarily, it seems a fair trade. Particularly as my knee seems to get worse, despite not doing any exercise whatsoever.
Even given the haunting, widespread financial worries, Jess and I decided we needed to go on a date. Because of work and family, we almost never get to go on actual dates, and it seemed wise and necessary. Let me tell ya -- it was really nice, indeed. I asked if she would go out with me for another one and she agreed!
*
We opted for Filho's Cucina in Groton.
For those of you who haven't been there, it's an unusual place. Once seated, you are expected to get your own napkins and silverware. The Groton Market, an excellent liquor store and the place where I tend to buy my craft beers, is open next door and you can casually grab a bottle or two of your choice, as well as a bottle opener, and return to your table. Filho's Cucina is loud and slightly chaotic, and, from what I'm told, nearly always crowded. Jess and I were forced to sit kitty corner to each other at an oddly situated table. Not so romantic. But the food was excellent and we were as happy as could be, even if I developed a slight crick in my neck from trying to manage conversation and mastication contemporaneously (thems words for George, yo!).
We ordered the antipasto first, and that was zestfully dressed with a good mix of cheeses, spring lettuce, beans, tuna, and cured meats. I wasn't tempted to reach for the pepper -- the dish was well seasoned and didn't require tampering.
I ordered the Linguine Putanesca and Jess the Gemeli con Pollo. My pasta was fresh tasting and the sauce was bolder than expected - it was rich in capers and something that gave it a nice, warm aftertaste -- perhaps a chili oil. I had never tried a gemelli dish before, and that was excellent -- the pasta was so dense and flavorful it almost tasted meatlike. It was thick without tasting leaden.
Even though we were left to do most of the work for ourselves, the staff seemed aware of us and checked to see if we needed anything at appropriate times.
The food was served in an open kitchen, and I sensed a well-deserved, genuine pride on the part of the cooks. The staff sent us off with a sense of good cheer.
It was the best restaurant food I've had in some time. The bill didn't kill us. And I really like being able to shop for my own wine and beer. Next time, I'll be better prepared and will go in for a craft beer instead of the chianti. The chianti wasn't bad, but knowing all those untested, untasted beers stood just ten feet away was a distraction. Next time! And yes, we will be back.
*
I'm missing out on what was meant to be my second culinary expedition of the weekend -- to a Brazilian grillhouse in Marlborough -- but I'm down to my last few dollars. I paid a few bills, and for dinner, and then I had to pick up a few half-gallon glass bottles for the second stage of my fermentation process, beginning Tuesday.
*
I used the gift certificate Jess's mother gave me and bought Alford and Duguid's Beyond the Great Wall. It's a cook book, with an eye to cultural context, about cuisine produced by non-Han Chinese people: Uighurs, Tibetans, Dai and others.
I heard about the couple who wrote it in a New Yorker article in this year's food issue. Then, I head them interviewed on NPR.
My goal this year is to get a few good cookbooks and to teach myself more about cooking by doing through every recipe in them.
Because of my work in the truck, it's easy for me to hit one asian market for rice vinegar, and another for Sichuan pepppercorns if I can get a better price there. And that's pretty much what I did on Friday, making brief stops to get the basic supplies needed to cook from this book: star anise, sesame oil, sticky rice, leeks, mushrooms and peppers.
I stopped at my mother's house after work and raided the attic for mason jars. Great success! With these I was able to pickle some daikon and hot peppers. The hot peppers I did precisely. For the daikon, I couldn't find the blades for my mandolin, so I thin-sliced the radish, like potato chips, and then cut them into eights, like tiny slices of pizza. The pickle is meant to be stringy, so I failed in this, but was pressed for time and didn't want to spend all afternoon with just that one radish. I placed the jars by the window and there they will sit for the next few days, fermenting in whatever sunlight manages to pass through the gray.
I was hoping to make a flatbread this weekend, but Jess is painting the kitchen and my cooking expedition has been temporarily slowed. Slowed, but still chugging along, unlike the novel, which seems to have halted. I need a good, long day of book reading and street wandering to get my mind back in the necessary mode. So I hope!
Such a delicate craft, that novel writing stuff. I'd rather be driving nails into canvas, but that's my lot, if I there's any lot for me to have.
Even given the haunting, widespread financial worries, Jess and I decided we needed to go on a date. Because of work and family, we almost never get to go on actual dates, and it seemed wise and necessary. Let me tell ya -- it was really nice, indeed. I asked if she would go out with me for another one and she agreed!
*
We opted for Filho's Cucina in Groton.
For those of you who haven't been there, it's an unusual place. Once seated, you are expected to get your own napkins and silverware. The Groton Market, an excellent liquor store and the place where I tend to buy my craft beers, is open next door and you can casually grab a bottle or two of your choice, as well as a bottle opener, and return to your table. Filho's Cucina is loud and slightly chaotic, and, from what I'm told, nearly always crowded. Jess and I were forced to sit kitty corner to each other at an oddly situated table. Not so romantic. But the food was excellent and we were as happy as could be, even if I developed a slight crick in my neck from trying to manage conversation and mastication contemporaneously (thems words for George, yo!).
We ordered the antipasto first, and that was zestfully dressed with a good mix of cheeses, spring lettuce, beans, tuna, and cured meats. I wasn't tempted to reach for the pepper -- the dish was well seasoned and didn't require tampering.
I ordered the Linguine Putanesca and Jess the Gemeli con Pollo. My pasta was fresh tasting and the sauce was bolder than expected - it was rich in capers and something that gave it a nice, warm aftertaste -- perhaps a chili oil. I had never tried a gemelli dish before, and that was excellent -- the pasta was so dense and flavorful it almost tasted meatlike. It was thick without tasting leaden.
Even though we were left to do most of the work for ourselves, the staff seemed aware of us and checked to see if we needed anything at appropriate times.
The food was served in an open kitchen, and I sensed a well-deserved, genuine pride on the part of the cooks. The staff sent us off with a sense of good cheer.
It was the best restaurant food I've had in some time. The bill didn't kill us. And I really like being able to shop for my own wine and beer. Next time, I'll be better prepared and will go in for a craft beer instead of the chianti. The chianti wasn't bad, but knowing all those untested, untasted beers stood just ten feet away was a distraction. Next time! And yes, we will be back.
*
I'm missing out on what was meant to be my second culinary expedition of the weekend -- to a Brazilian grillhouse in Marlborough -- but I'm down to my last few dollars. I paid a few bills, and for dinner, and then I had to pick up a few half-gallon glass bottles for the second stage of my fermentation process, beginning Tuesday.
*
I used the gift certificate Jess's mother gave me and bought Alford and Duguid's Beyond the Great Wall. It's a cook book, with an eye to cultural context, about cuisine produced by non-Han Chinese people: Uighurs, Tibetans, Dai and others.
I heard about the couple who wrote it in a New Yorker article in this year's food issue. Then, I head them interviewed on NPR.
My goal this year is to get a few good cookbooks and to teach myself more about cooking by doing through every recipe in them.
Because of my work in the truck, it's easy for me to hit one asian market for rice vinegar, and another for Sichuan pepppercorns if I can get a better price there. And that's pretty much what I did on Friday, making brief stops to get the basic supplies needed to cook from this book: star anise, sesame oil, sticky rice, leeks, mushrooms and peppers.
I stopped at my mother's house after work and raided the attic for mason jars. Great success! With these I was able to pickle some daikon and hot peppers. The hot peppers I did precisely. For the daikon, I couldn't find the blades for my mandolin, so I thin-sliced the radish, like potato chips, and then cut them into eights, like tiny slices of pizza. The pickle is meant to be stringy, so I failed in this, but was pressed for time and didn't want to spend all afternoon with just that one radish. I placed the jars by the window and there they will sit for the next few days, fermenting in whatever sunlight manages to pass through the gray.
I was hoping to make a flatbread this weekend, but Jess is painting the kitchen and my cooking expedition has been temporarily slowed. Slowed, but still chugging along, unlike the novel, which seems to have halted. I need a good, long day of book reading and street wandering to get my mind back in the necessary mode. So I hope!
Such a delicate craft, that novel writing stuff. I'd rather be driving nails into canvas, but that's my lot, if I there's any lot for me to have.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Crawlfins
There's been a lot going on, so the pace of the work on the novel has slowed. I crossed the 11,000 threshold today. I like to keep to 1,000 a day, which I consider pretty good for guy who has to work a non-literary job full-time. Some authors can go 10,000 words a day, and I probably could too, with enough time.
But I'm happy that I've been able to stick with it.
I started work on it months ago, but had to put it aside during the move.
When I get to do truck runs at work, I get the real work done, since I come up with ideas and write them on scraps of paper. Right now, I have scraps I haven't gotten to yet. Lots to do. Lots to work on.
I'm here with Slappy the writing dog. She seems to enjoy sitting next to me while I'm working. It's been my overall experience that animals are drawn to writing people. Must be some sort of calming influence. They could give a damn about that electric bass, let me tell ya.
*
Really pleased with my homemade hot saucy, which is very spicy but also tasty. Jess, who doesn't care for heat, even tried and enjoyed it. Ten years ago, I might have even thought about bottling it and giving it out to friends. Who knows. I still might.
I will call it Crawlfins Pepper, since that about sums it up. Not pepper sauce, but just pepper. I like the sound. "Pass me the Crawlfins Pepper, biotch." "Get it yourself, galoot."
It all works.
But I'm happy that I've been able to stick with it.
I started work on it months ago, but had to put it aside during the move.
When I get to do truck runs at work, I get the real work done, since I come up with ideas and write them on scraps of paper. Right now, I have scraps I haven't gotten to yet. Lots to do. Lots to work on.
I'm here with Slappy the writing dog. She seems to enjoy sitting next to me while I'm working. It's been my overall experience that animals are drawn to writing people. Must be some sort of calming influence. They could give a damn about that electric bass, let me tell ya.
*
Really pleased with my homemade hot saucy, which is very spicy but also tasty. Jess, who doesn't care for heat, even tried and enjoyed it. Ten years ago, I might have even thought about bottling it and giving it out to friends. Who knows. I still might.
I will call it Crawlfins Pepper, since that about sums it up. Not pepper sauce, but just pepper. I like the sound. "Pass me the Crawlfins Pepper, biotch." "Get it yourself, galoot."
It all works.
New Yeah
All dishes were prepped when Jess came back to the house after going out for an emergency plastic wrap finding expedition. She told me that all the roads around town were iced over.
No party. No Mac and Ana's in Watertown.
I still insisted in putting on my yellow underpants.
Jess and I sat down and enjoyed a romantic, quiet New Year's eve. After all, dinner was already ready.
We watched Shine a Light, the recent Rolling Stones live film. It was awful, in the ways that you would likely suspect, but not without merit. Jess fell asleep almost immediately, as she tends to do whenever we try to watch a movie and, once again, she woke up, still half dreaming, and carried on conversations with me. The first had to do with hiring an interior decorator for our house and finding out if Keith Richards approved of him. Something like that.
In the second, she woke up and I said something about how sloppy Richards' guitar playing sounded. She looked at the screen.
"Wow, the graphics these days are amazing."
"The graphics?"
"The animation. Whatever they call it."
And then she blinked her eyes and came fully out of sleep. In her half daze, she thought I was playing as Keith Richards in Guitar Hero.
*
And that was it. Early to bed, early to rise. A pleasant night where we talked about our memories from the past year and about what the future might hold.
No party. No Mac and Ana's in Watertown.
I still insisted in putting on my yellow underpants.
Jess and I sat down and enjoyed a romantic, quiet New Year's eve. After all, dinner was already ready.
We watched Shine a Light, the recent Rolling Stones live film. It was awful, in the ways that you would likely suspect, but not without merit. Jess fell asleep almost immediately, as she tends to do whenever we try to watch a movie and, once again, she woke up, still half dreaming, and carried on conversations with me. The first had to do with hiring an interior decorator for our house and finding out if Keith Richards approved of him. Something like that.
In the second, she woke up and I said something about how sloppy Richards' guitar playing sounded. She looked at the screen.
"Wow, the graphics these days are amazing."
"The graphics?"
"The animation. Whatever they call it."
And then she blinked her eyes and came fully out of sleep. In her half daze, she thought I was playing as Keith Richards in Guitar Hero.
*
And that was it. Early to bed, early to rise. A pleasant night where we talked about our memories from the past year and about what the future might hold.
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