Sandwiching

English sandwich (British Sandwich Week Contest entry)

INTERVIEWER

     Do you think that an elliptical method like that* has a function other than, as you say, suggesting the tautness and spareness of a particular situation?

MR  GREEN

     I don't know, I suppose the more you leave out, the more you highlight what you leave in -- not true of taking the filling out of a sandwich, of course -- but if one kept a diary, one wouldn't want a minute-to-minute catalogue of one's dreadful day.

American sandwich from Carnegie Delicatessen, New York City

*  Reader Note:   Terry Southern's interview with the English novelist Henry Green (the excerpt here concerns Green's second novel, Living, and its notable omission of definite articles throughout the text), which was published in the Summer 1958  issue (No. 19) of the Paris Review, remains one of the most enjoyable, amusing and enlightening artifacts of Green's remarkable career.  It is anthologized in the collection of previously unpublished Henry Green writings called Surviving.  The interview can also be found online Here.

Terry Southern photographed by Stanley Kubrick near Shepperton Studios, Surrey, 1962, during the production of Dr. Strangelove

           The Paris Review interview is well worth reading and re-reading.  Like all of Green's work, you don't and can't take it all in at once, although the comment I've selected, about suiting style to subject matter, is pretty straightforward.  Some of us are a lot more skilled at this than others.  The other day I tried to write about something that recently caused me to be enervated at a time when I was extremely tired.  In other words, I had been shocked semi-awake by an unpleasant event and I tried to convey this by writing a series of overlong, edgy-seeming sentences, which I normally wouldn't do.  I think I was trying to convey fatigue and anxiety in the way Ray Davies did by elongating lines and pauses in Tired Of Waiting For You, although my mood felt distinctly more Kurt Cobain-desperate.  I'm not sure my effort succeeded, but at least I expelled, briefly,  the demon experience from my body. 

Talk Talk (Mark Hollis, l.)

           Green's comment about sandwiches reminded me of  something that happened to Caroline during the 1980s when she was working as a publicist for the fine London band, Talk Talk.  Caroline's job involved devising and executing public relations campaigns for rock groups, including soliciting and arranging  press articles and reviews.  This often involved long days of back-to-back interviews at the record company for the acts, who were usually exhausted from the daily grind of performing and constant travel. One day, Caroline ordered an extra-special "New York-style lunch" to be delivered to EMI Records' Manhattan offices  from the famous Carnegie Delicatessen.   When Carnegie's trademark offerings arrived, Mark Hollis, Talk Talk's soft-spoken and mild-mannered composer and singer, became noticeably agitated at the sight of the sandwich monuments in the way one might imagine a just-unblindfolded Druid acting when coming into view of Stonehenge and thinking "this means curtains for Gareth" or something like that.  Mark is an exceedingly polite person, but he knew his own mind and intentions, and Caroline noticed him begin quietly and deliberately to deconstruct Carnegie's work by removing and discarding about 9/10th of the sandwich's fillings.  When she asked him what on earth he was doing, he replied that he was making the New York sandwich into an English sandwich.  
 

Stray Cats


          Several months later when the Stray Cats, a New York band who had gone to England to achieve enormous success, returned in triumph to the U.S., one of the first things they enjoyed during a record company visit was a Carnegie Deli sandwich luncheon.  The group liked England quite a bit and they were highly appreciative both of their UK success and their British fans. They said that English sandwiches were another thing altogether, however.  They were, in their view, lacking in just about everything except for miniscule portions of green-tinged roast beef, soggy lettuce and bread that seemed cottony and unpalatable.  These criticisms mirrored earlier ones of The Ramones, another group Caroline worked with at the beginning of their career.  When that band returned from their first U.K. junket, they complained that the milk they were served contained floating debris and the Coca-Cola tasted funny.  I would like to think that Henry Green, the author of  Living,  would have appreciated The Ramones for their humor and their radical, simplified approach to writing and performing music in order to achieve maximum impact.  

        The very best record company party I ever attended was a "listening party" celebrating the release of the the group's second album, The Ramones Leave Home.  The party was held in an over-crowded New York recording studio near Washington Square and featured Carnegie Deli sandwiches, Veuve Clicquot champagne and, of course, the new Ramones record, a great one that in the best American tradition "moved the ball forward."

The Ramones

Henry Green

The Breakfast Martini

The Breakfast Martini

(from Beautiful Cocktails, published by Bombay Gin)

Created by Mr. Salvatore Calabrese at the Lanesborough Hotel Library Bar, London

½ shot Martini Extra-Dry vermouth

2 ½ shots Bombay Sapphire gin

¼ shot freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 spoon of light orange marmalade

Stir vermouth with ice in a mixing glass and strain to discard excess vermouth, leaving only a coating on the ice.  Pour Bombay Sapphire into mixing glass containing coated ice, stir and strain into a frosted glass.   Garnish with orange peel.




N.b.:  As a literalist, I find the concept of a Breakfast Martini fairly shocking, but would still prefer this cocktail as a breakfast drink (or more likely, breakfast itself after a night on the tiles) than something to be consumed later in the day.  However, I do not care for Bombay Sapphire gin.  I strongly prefer regular Bombay.

Salvatore Calabese of the Lanesborough Hotel

Happy Birthday, Ray Davies (Slum Kids Lyric, Link, Souvenirs)

We're just Slum Kids, and we know it,
And we never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.

So how dare you criticize,
When you don't know what it's like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.

Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor Slum Kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, Lord, there's so much injustice in this world?
Slum Kids never stand a chance.

Look at all the Slum Kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.

Notes:

1.  Top illustration:  Actual jukebox card for Days/She's Got Everything written by Ray Davies.

2.  Bottom illustration:  1968 press release for Days/She's Got Everything issued by Miss P.A. Pretty, Pye Records press officer, London. 

All Apologies

Macaque monkeys in Jigokudani hotspring in Nagano, Japan

          In yesterday’s beautiful sun I had a long conversation with someone about “breaking habits,” the reasons we form habits in the first place, and why we tend to pick up the habits of family members.  My partner in conversation was a psychotherapist and she spoke about mirror neurons, which I had never heard of before, but which I’ve read about now.   Apparently, the macaque monkey has been an important focus of mirror neuron study, but incurious as this may sound,  and considering that breaking habits is very much on my mind and the macaque monkey work is considered highly important, I’m deliberately shying away the details of the science.   I assume that at some point vivisection comes into the picture and I don’t agree with that.   Among other things, I already know a family of macaque monkeys in the Central Park Zoo very well and we consider them family friends.  From the first time I saw them interact, they reminded me exactly of my family, for better and for worse.

Newborn macaque imitating facial expression

         The conversation yesterday was extremely stimulating – it actually became one of those “translating thought into action” exercises -- even though to an outside observer I would have appeared simply to be a person eating lunch  -- and it pulled me in some new directions.  This morning, for instance, I discovered that unlike the ants predictably moving along the same pathways day-after-day that we spoke about, I actually did a large number of things quite differently than I usually do them.  This must have been the result of pre-bedtime and sleep auto-suggestion because it didn’t occur to me that this was the case until about 30 minutes after I performed these actions.    

Planets and dwarf planets of the solar system, sizes to scale

 

        Still, there are the things we need to do every day in order to keep the earth on its path and the sun in the sky, which now include, oddly, checking email, and today’s trove seems to indicate that everyone else’s habits are still unbroken and in place.  One such missive, a letter sent to me by a “talent acquisition executive” (this is the new name for the business area formerly called “human resources” and, before that, “personnel”) and received at 6:24 am EDT, was clearly written in response to a follow-up note I transmitted  on Saturday to an attorney at her company inquiring about the status of a couple of positions this lawyer is currently seeking to fill.   After some initial, seemingly strong interest from the company, my resume and phone number had clearly and quickly found their way into the “overqualified” pile (assuming this pile wasn’t actually or virtually shredded and incinerated a long time ago), but following an old, still unbroken habit of my own, I actually require “no” for an answer in matters like this.  As a lawyer, I am absolutely able to decide actively and deliberately to let some things drift, but I cannot do this passively and negligently.  Having sent several follow-up emails and left follow-up voicemails for this personnel representative, I felt I had no choice but to go back to the hiring attorney, politely re-state my case, and mention to her that professional courtesy (a convenient, but entirely valid, attorney standard) really required a response from her.  

Driftwood on the Potomac River

        In any event, the personnel lady’s note was cringingly polite -- all apologies --  but mealy-mouthed, unsatisfactory and poorly written.  It contained all the usual dodges, feints, tricks and lies, including predictable references to vacation, overwork, and threatened massacres in Benghazi.  It did not mention my Saturday email to her senior executive as the precipitating cause for the early morning letter. 

It helps to think of it as a game. 

        Oh – and also a promise for further communication -- very, very soon.

Cooking For Madam (Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Summer Recipes)

        Trying not to eat yesterday, or to complain about that or the sweltering heat, which assumed an increased degree of difficulty because I chose to perform strenuous outdoor chores and save money by not turning on the air conditioning inside, I managed to cool down my spirit and body temperature a little by reading these three summer dessert recipes from Marta Sgubin’s charming book, Cooking For Madam: Recipes and Reminiscences from the Home of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. (New York, Scribner, 1998) 

        Marta Sgubin worked for Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis from 1969, when she was first hired as governess for Caroline Kennedy and John F. Kennedy, Jr., until Mrs. Onassis’s death in 1994.  Her role in evolved as the Kennedy children got older and eventually she became Mrs. Onassis’s cook and household major-domo. Later, she continued working as part of Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg’s household.

        After Mrs. Onassis’s death, Ms. Scubin was encouraged by the Kennedy children to assemble this discreet memoir/recipe book and it’s excellent, entertaining and useful.  Most of the recipes, including these three, are highly appealing and absolutely within the mastery of practicing (as opposed to expert) and enthusiastic home cooks, which is really how it should be.   Caroline and I, realizing that we’re currently in a sort of recipe rut, will undoubtedly cook from this book this summer.

 

        Charming details abound, including the one included below about what it’s like to have Jasper Johns supply your mangoes for mango ice cream.  Gossipy, really interesting stories, are missing, such as those concerning Mrs. Onassis’s strict dieting habits (inserting a fork in items of food to extract the essential flavors and calling that a meal; making a day’s total calorie consumption a small portion of a single dry baked potato topped with Beluga caviar), but I don’t think that’s any cause for concern.  Those stories might be fiction; so might the stories included in this volume.  Anyone who has ever tried caption writing knows that pictures say 1,000 words and words can be used to paint various artistic pictures.  The point is that they seem real and they weave a part of American history that is still very much with us.  

 

        Democrats, Republicans and Independents can all cook from this book and, I think, enjoy it.   The Raspberry Sauce, which is paired with the Frozen Lemon Soufflé here, also accompanies the Peche Cardinale in Marta Sgubin’s book.  I’ll publish that highly appealing recipe another time.  

 

Frozen Lemon Souffle

(Serves 6)

 

        I used to make this soufflé often for parties, multiplying the recipe as needed to serve the number of guests.  I always try to allow enough so that everyone can have two generous helpings and then there will be some left over to go back into the freezer for snacking time.

        The orphan egg whites can be frozen to be thawed and used later.

12 egg yolks

1 ½ cups plus 2 teaspoons sugar, divided

¾ cup lemon juice

Grated zest of 1 lemon

½ cup heavy cream

6 egg whites

        Select a deep-sided skillet or sauté pan that will comfortably hold a medium-sized heatproof bowl and allow room for water to come up the sides of the bowl on the outside.  After testing, remove and dry the bowl and bring the water in the skillet to a boil.

        Beat the 12 egg yolks with 1 ½ cups of the sugar in the bowl, using either a whisk or an electric mixer until light and lemon colored.  Add the lemon juice.  (Note:  It’s easier to grate the zest off the lemon before squeezing the juice, so do it in that order and set the zest aside.)

        When the water in the skillet is boiling, set the bowl in it and continue to beat until the egg mixture becomes smooth, creamy and custardy.  Be very careful, because if you aren’t paying attention at this point, the mixture can scramble in a minute.

        Scrape the mixture into a larger bowl and stir in the grated zest.  Let cool, and then refrigerate and chill thoroughly. 

        Prepare the soufflé dish.  Tear off a length of waxed paper that will fit around the dish and overlap itself by about 2 inches.  Fold the paper lengthwise into thirds to make a long, thin strip, then wrap it around the upper rim of the soufflé dish to form a high collar rising above the rim. Make sure the ends overlap by at least 1 inch.   Secure with string tied under the rim of the dish.  

        Beat the heavy cream until it starts to thicken, then add 2 teaspoons of the remaining sugar and continue to beat until the cream is stiff.  Fold carefully into the chilled egg mixture.  

         In another clean, dry bowl, beat the egg whites.  When they start to mound, beat in the remaining ¼ cup of sugar.  Keep beating until the whites hold stiff peaks, then fold them carefully into the soufflé base.

        Pour into the prepared dish, smooth the top, which should come up almost to the top of the paper collar, then place the dish in the freezer for several hours or overnight until frozen.  Before serving, remove the collar and decorate the top with thin circles of sliced lemon and mint.  I put a little sprig of mint right in the middle so it looks like it was growing there.  

        If the soufflé has been frozen overnight, you might want to leave it in the refrigerator for half-an-hour or so before serving so the texture won’t be icy.

(Serve with Raspberry Sauce, if desired.  Please see recipe below.)

Mango Ice Cream

(Makes 3-4 quarts)

8 cups heavy cream

1 ½ cups sugar

4 cups pureed fresh mango (6-8 mangoes; they must be very ripe)

Juice of 3 limes, strained

        Scald the cream, then, off the heat, stir in the sugar until it dissolves.  At that point, stir in the mango puree and the strained lime juice.   Let cool, then freeze in an ice cream machine according to the manufacturer’s directions.  When the ice cream is ready, store in a container in the freezer.

        This should be served the same day it is made so it doesn’t get too hard.  I used to scoop it into the serving bowl a little ahead of time and leave it in the refrigerator so it would be gooey but firm.  Madam always liked her ice cream slurpy.

        Madam loved this ice cream, especially when I served it with a sort of julienne of fresh mango over the top.  We were lucky.  Jasper Johns, a friend of Madam, used to send mangoes to us from his house on Captiva.

        Another good idea is to grate some fresh ginger over the ice cream just before serving.  I can just see the expression on her face as she took a bite.

Raspberry Sauce

(Makes 1 ½ to 2 cups)

1 pint fresh raspberries

Juice of ½ lemon

½ cup sugar

½ teaspoon arrowroot

1 Tablespoon Framboise or Kirsch

        Combine the raspberries, lemon juice and ¼ cup water in a food processor or blender and puree until smooth.  Strain through a fine sieve to remove all the seeds.

            Pour the puree into a small pan, add the sugar and bring to a boil.  Then reduce the heat and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Dissolve the arrowroot in the liqueur and stir into the sauce.  Remove from the heat and let cool.  When cool, cover and refrigerate. 

            This can be made with frozen raspberries, but  in the summer, when fresh berries are available,  it tastes so much better.  

       

Marta Sgubin (l); Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis (r)

Walking Through My Dreams

When I'm Unhappy and in my eyes things are bad,
I just have to close them and suddenly I'm Glad.

Walking through my Dreams at Night,
You're walking through my Dreams at night,
And I'm Not Sleep.

I never worry Cos' I never get the time.
You sweep all thoughts Away when You cross my Mind.

Walking through my Dreams at night,
You're walking through my Dreams at night.

Click to listen to: Pretty Things, Walking Through My Dreams (1.1.68)

"Shovel Ready": Former "America's Governor" Ed Rendell Speaks Out, Then Dines Out

“I don’t think we meant to be deceptive.” -- Former Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell



              Back in October, when Obama admitted that he had to learn on the job that shovel-ready jobs don’t exist, then-governor Ed Rendell (D., Penn.)  — a leader in the push for the stimulus — told the New York Times it was all a terrible misunderstanding and called the question of "shovel-ready jobs" a "definitional” issue.

              Rendell said “shovel ready” always meant that projects were ready to begin the sometimes long process of public bidding by contractors.

            “When we said ‘shovel ready’ we meant ‘shovel ready’ in the way we do things.” 

                He added, “I don’t think we meant to be deceptive.”

        Note: The above post, keyed mostly to this column by Jonah Goldberg concerning the "shovel-ready job" travesty/deception portion of President Obama's "stimulus" program, but containing some additional language from the earlier Peter Baker New York Times interview with the president, must be especially disheartening to those people who believed in both the sincerity and competence of the actors involved.  Everyone else simply feels continued disgust. Long before the Times piece appeared last fall, I recall reading a Philadelphia Magazine interview with a city infrastructure executive who, responding to questions concerning the ongoing, perpetual deterioration of our Schuylkill Expressway and the permanent I-95/Blue Route intersection bottleneck, explicated and debunked the myth of the "shovel-ready job".  That city manager was a Democrat also, but he felt the need to give a straightforward, factual answer to the reporter's question.


        Former Governor Rendell is, interestingly, one of the few politicians who is difficult to picture with a shovel in his hands.  (Shovel photos tend to be regular, almost heraldic political symbols because of politicians' regular attendance at groundbreaking ceremonies.)  Actually, the only photograph I could find of the current MSNBC pundit-at-large/Large Pundit holding a shovel was taken last November 7th at the  United Flight 93 memorial groundbreaking in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, where he was sporting an incredibly inappropriate grin.  Out of respect for the families of the brave passengers and victims of Flight 93, I decided not to post that photo.  

        Pictures of Rendell in the vicinity of and eating cheesesteaks abound, however, so here are two.  I recall with amusement the time Rendell took then-presidential candidate John Kerry on the obligatory campaign cheesesteak run in Philly (at the iconic Pat's, I believe, pictured here) and Kerry tried to order his steak with a gruyere cheese topping, thereby making himself look completely ridiculous.  

                 It has always been said that Ed Rendell looks convincing eating a cheesesteak.  It will not be gainsaid here.

        A Large Man, never at a loss for words, former Governor Rendell clearly regards the rest of Us as small.