Last week’s news cycle cesspool put me off my game. I couldn’t even write 500 Words watching it unfold. It leaves me shaking my head in
disbelief how so many unalienable rights, the very framework of what
was American democracy- are being pissed on. From leader of the
free world to pariah state with longtime allies turning against us and a
self inflicted soon to be recession all within 90 days staggers my
mind.
Unbridled fascism goes really fast in real time.
Some of our countrymen are basking in cruelness and are good with the elimination of due process. There’s a war against science, and various other freedoms we’ve enjoyed and taken for granted are eemingly circling the drain.
Rather than rant about the United States devolving into something I don’t recognize, support and knew would happen with another term du traitor, @ the moment I prefer focusing on good things to help assuage my crushed bleeding heart.
Like the 5 yr old workout I had recently. My niece Scarlett has me wrapped around her little fingers and in turn ran me ragged over the course of a day we spent together- one I loved every minute of.
It started with her choreographing some kinda kiddy word jazz salad, making me repeat her gibberish and strike whatever pose she chose while sitting in her car seat (aka “Scar seat”) while en route to the supermarket.
She loves carrots and she also loves pickles, particularly burping them up. “I like when my burps taste like pickles Uncle Alan.” When I told her I’d make some pickled carrots for her she looked as if her head would explode. You could almost hear the pop, and the look in her eyes was priceless.
We hid and seeked for hours on end and also played “restaurant” with her stuffed animals as customers. I’d take a unicorn or penguin or whatever, put it up to my face, lean over the bed frame/ counter and order up.
“I’ve got a whale here that wants some walrus, medium rare.”
“You’ll have to go down the street to get some because I don’t have any at the moment but I think they might… Or order something else.”
Then we’d switch and she’d order in the same way, most often while rolling off her mattress onto the floor repeated x100.
An exceptional seafood dinner with some of our best friends followed by La Boheme at the Civic Opera Friday night and Saturday afternoon dim sum with more family made for a beautiful weekend. As per norm Uncle Alan acted as culinary sherpa/menu bully/vittles master and managed to satiate 3 teen age appetites and make a 2 yr old happy besides.
An inspiring recording session topped it off. The tune was a tango, which I dutifully played. But a last minute improv came to mind so I asked for 1 more pass. With the tango in the background I added a funky kick and snare coupled with some nice accents on the cymbals played over the top. One last track with a shaker to give it some
movement and the tune came to life. If I only brought my castanets…
Beats watching the news.
Chef/percussionist/writer/reprobate and lover of all things beautiful & delicious, Chef Alan Lake’s culinary career includes East Bank Club in Chicago; Sunset Marquis in W. Hollywood; Izakaya Hiwatta in Ichinomia Japan and legendary nightclub Purpur in Zurich, Switzerland. Working all around the world for over four decades, he's won numerous awards, professional competitions and distinctions. He’s the author of Home Cookin'- The Stories Behind The Food and The Garlic Manifesto- the history of garlic going back to 10,000-year-old Neolithic caves and contains facts, fiction, folklore, myths and legends (besides 100 recipes).
A lifelong musician that plays 70+ percussion instruments, he coined the term “Jazzfood” to describe his cooking style i.e. “solid technique coupled with tasteful improvisation.” He views his food as he does his music and writing and has been known to bust a pout if subpar in any way.