Episode 15: Nature's Bounty

Last week, a manatee was spotted loitering where our river flows into the Hudson. That is, a place one quarter-mile away, only 50 minutes from Times Square. Last month, a moose spent several days browsing around a farm 15 minutes north of here, 60 minutes from Grand Central Terminal. A man was taking a stroll in the next town last June when a coyote attacked his dog. Eagles and peregrine falcons land in the trees outside our windows. At various times, woodchucks, wild turkeys, rabbits, chipmunks, racoons, and copperheads have taken up temporary residence on our shy acre, and, of course, deer use our flowerbeds as salad bars. All within an hour of the Empire State Building.
Optimists simply observe that nature is always with us. I harbor a darker premonition: the animals don't think we're going to be around much longer.
They're moving back.

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"You know that look women give you when they want to have sex with you? Neither do I."
- Steve Martin

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DID YOU SEE THESE?
A Company With A Heart
Northwest Airlines provided a tip sheet to employees they fired. It listed 101 ways for their former associates to save money, now that they were out of work. Among these were "Rent out a room or garage" and "Shop in thrift stores", but the winner was, "Don't be shy about pulling something you like out of the trash."
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Power of the Comma
During testimony in the recent Enron trial, the Journal News provided this headline for a story about one defendant's testimony:

"Skilling denies cheating,
lying in 2nd day on stand"

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Undercover Dress Code
It came to the attention of the head of the Federal Air Marshall Service - five years after its corps of field agents increased from hundreds to thousands - that it might be a good idea to examine its dress policies. As of September 1, 2006, officers are permitted to wear clothing that allows them to blend in with the casual herd back in economy class.
Until then, male agents were required to wear suits and ties, be clean-shaven, and have neatly trimmed hair. Women had to wear blouses and skirts or dress slacks. At least they didn't have to paste signs on their foreheads.
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Breakfast in Istanbul
This is a foodie's favorite season, when the farmers' markets are full to bursting with the freshest, most flavorful produce of the year. It recalls for us breakfasts on the roof terrace of our hotel in Istanbul, looking down upon the Blue Mosque on one side, the Haghia Sophia on the other, and Topkapi Palace and the Sea of Marmara just beyond.
The meals were light buffets of a far healthier sort than the three pounds of cholesterol we think of as the traditional American or English morning meal. Ringing our plates were quarters of sweetly acid tomatoes, slices of cucucumber, juicy figs, fragrant chunks of feta, musky black olives, and chewy bread spread with honey and jam. Scented tea, not thick Turkish coffee, was the beverage. Try it. Change is good.
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When You Have A Minute
Google the word "failure". Guess the Number One entry. While you're at it, Google "geezerwisdom", too. Numero Siete with a bullet!
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Geezer's Indispensible Pans & Paens
In theaters: Scoop is Woody Allen's followup to last year's pretty good Hitchcock homage, Match Point, which also starred the bodacious Scarlett Johansson. This is supposed to be a lighthearted murder mystery romp. On the contrary, the dialog is appallingly leaden, with Allen resurrecting schtick that was old when The Ed Sullivan Show was young.
On the other hand, run out to catch Little Miss Sunshine, an indie roadtrip comedy about a family that pushes disfunctionality to its outer limits. Alan Arkin is a drug-snorting, exceptionally horny grandfather, Greg Kinnear is a failed motivational speaker in denial, and Steve Carell is his suicidal gay brother-in-law. The mushy stuff is kept to a minimum.
Similarly satisfying, but quite different in tone, Boynton Beach Club brings together such veterans as Brenda Vaccaro, Len Cariou, Sally Kellerman, and Dyan Cannon in a comedy about retirees in the land of sun and hurricanes. They mourn their losses, pretend they aren't far closer to the end than to the beginning, go on the make, and mostly just get on with going on. Clearly not targeted to Hollywood's preferred demographic, it will be appreciated by those of us who now see 50 in the rear view mirror.
On DVD: Don't, even in a moment of desperation, rent Cache (with an accent on the "e"). Full of endless silences and long shots that don't budge for many minutes at a time, this is the kind of arty, opaque exercise that helped to bury French cinema in its decades-long slough of despond.
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Discomfort Food
Ferran Adria has a lot to answer for. The mega-star Catalan chef holds court at his restaurant El Bulli in the village of Roses off Spain's Costa Brava and in his laboratory near Barcelona. Yes, his lab. Adria (reverse accent on the second "a") closes the restaurant for six months a year to fiddle endlessly with foodstuffs so he can bring never-before-seen or -tasted edible creations to his slack-jawed but monied patrons. It was there he came up with foams, which amount to flavored air extruded atop ingredients with which they may or may not have any commonality. (He says he doesn't do foams anymore, but he has infected his devotees, who have scattered across the developed world like ants on spilt cream.)
So are diners and restaurant reviewers subjected to such combinations as eel with crystallized violets, braised snails in basil-chicken mousse, pork belly with kecap manis and Thai chilies, and avocado rolled in corn nuts and wrapped in - wait for it - cotton candy. Not infrequently these are served with instructions on exactly how to eat what is on the plate. Pre-school for grownups.
At a recent dinner spotlighting the cuisine of Catalunya (Catalonia), food writers and other influentials were seated at tables at the bottom of the soaring atrium of the Guggenheim Museum in New York. It was a suitably grand environment in which to take on the cuisine of four honored Catalan chefs imported for the occasion. All of them were Adria acolytes, it appeared.
Much of what was served turned out to be riffs on traditional Catalan dishes. There were many courses, but the starter was characteristic. One of the simplest and most satisfying of Catalan appetizers in pa amb tomaquet (pan con tomate in Spanish). A thick slab of bread, often day-old, is toasted or grilled. It is lightly rubbed first with a clove of crushed garlic, then with the cut side of a very ripe tomato. Olive oil is drizzled over, perhaps a pinch of salt - very tasty and simplicity itself.
At the Guggenheim that night, we were served a small rectanglar plate with a four-ounce glass balanced at one end. Atop the glass was an ultra-thin wafer of toasted baked product; in the glass was a measure of tomato water (not nearly as thick or nourishing as V8); on the open end of the plate was a long bead of fruity olive oil, accompanied by a sprinkle of sea salt. Pa amb tomaquet, deconstructed and virtually tasteless.
This is food as fashion, food as art, food as technology, but not food as food. It can't be surprising that meatloaf and macaroni-and-cheese now appear on the menus of serious restaurants, nor that The New York Times recently heralded the renewed popularity of pigs in a blanket at chic Manhattan and Hamptons receptions. Can green Jello molds with miniature marshmellows and shredded carrots be far behind?
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TURKEY MEATLOAF
This is close enough to Mom's version that you won't begin to miss the fat or calories - promise.
Serves 4-6

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
1 sweet red pepper, trimmed and chopped
1 medium carrot, peeled and chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
One-half teaspoon hot red pepper flakes, divided
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
2 eggs, lightly beaten
One-quarter cup chopped fresh parsley
One-and-a-half pounds ground turkey
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 cup Japanese Panko bread crumbs
1 cup catsup, divided
One-half cup balsamic vinegar, divided

Pre-heat oven to 425 degrees.
Heat the oil in a12-inch frying pan. Add the onion, sweet pepper, carrot, garlic, half the hot pepper flakes, and salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5-6 minutes. Set aside and cool.
Whisk the eggs and parsley together in a bowl large enough to hold all ingredients. Add the turkey, Worcestershire sauce, bread crumbs, one-half cup catsup, and one-quarter cup balsamic vinegar. Add the vegetables when cool enough to handle. Mix with your hands until all ingredients are evenly distributed.
Lightly oil a metal baking pan. Mold the meat and vegetable mixture into an oval loaf. In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining catsup, balsamic vinegar, and hot pepper flakes. Brush this mixture over the whole meatloaf.
Bake the loaf for about one hour, or until a meat thermometer inserted into it registers 170 degrees. Allow the loaf to cool for 5-10 minutes before slicing.
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