My mother had enough to deal with in our combined family of 5 boys, ranging from me, the youngest, to the oldest, already a part of my stepfather’s business. In this light, it was amazing that she took the trouble of dealing with me so calmly. As a kid who would eat almost nothing but bologna or peanut butter, possibly together in a sandwich, she just made me learn how to make them myself. If she made a cake in the afternoon to be eaten with dinner, I’d bother her for a piece, so to avoid having to cut it up, she made a tiny cake for me with the same batter. She must have gotten me to eat some fruit and vegetables, because I escaped scurvy and whatever else sailors were afflicted with on long trips in the 19th century. Thanks Mom!
As a young single, I relied more on girlfriends who came over with their own ingredients and made such delicacies as “Pineapple Dump Cake”, and, if she was there for breakfast, liver and bacon, from the book “Let’s Eat Right and Stay Fit”. I lost this habit before author Adele Davis’ death in 1974 due to multiple myeloma. Well, she did live to the ripe old age of 70. It seemed old then, anyway, now not so much. Ms. Davis’ work was very controversial and much-discussed, perhaps a little like the paleo movement of today. At my own age now, I would recommend people not take advice from books and diets, but concentrate on lifestyle, both for better health and greater enjoyment of food.
When I first began attempting to cook, I learned to make things like casseroles that were simply a blend of three canned foods. My signature “green bean casserole” consisted of mushroom soup, green beans and French fried onions, a kind of salty dinner version of the dump cake. I’d invite women over, offering to cook them dinner!
I did some early experiments like trying to make corn tortillas from scratch with masa harina, but that quickly ended in failure. Nearly a half-century later, I became a master at fresh homemade soft corn tortillas. More on that later.
In the early 1970’s I was in a band that toured the western U.S. by truck. There was no limit to what gear we could bring, so the drummer, Paul Lagos, who was an accomplished cook, schlepped along a huge trunk, filled with two electric skillets and a lot of dishes and utensils and basic stuff like flour and eggs, anything that didn’t spoil too quickly. He would surreptitiously cook full meals in the motels. We must have been the best fed touring band in history.
Paul and I were on a very boring nightclub for a couple of weeks in Switzerland with some singers who had a fully-written act. It consisted of elaborate choreography and the identical music played as a single medley, night after night. That was horribly boring, but towards the end of the night, we’d grin at each other thinking of the feast waiting for us back at the hotel room. They never said anything at the desk, but they must have seen the pillowcases full of cooked meat pies and other goodies hanging precariously from the windows in that chilly Geneva spring, as well as a few guests who ended up staying the night. This was no midwestern town!
When we got back to America after that gig, we went our separate ways, but stayed in touch. I’ll never forget the message drummer/chef Paul left where I was playing, at the Whiskey a Go-Go: “Get over here after the gig for fresh made pheasant enchiladas!” Paul’s signature dish was the best italian gravy I’ve ever tasted. I think it took two days to be done properly. I never thought I’d have the patience for that, and I still don’t.
On tour in Europe and Asia with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers had a culinary angle to it as well. John never varied his order in a restaurant, it was always “fillet steak”. Drummer Soko Richardson, formerly with Ike & Tina Turner, carried around a large pouch full of Louisiana hot sauce which he sprinkled on everything. In the restaurants we ate in in Europe, servers would put the meat in your plate and then spoon the sauce on it. Red Holloway invariably told the waiter “More gravy, suckah, more gravy!”
I had never been to any of the countries we visited, so I was amazed at some of the food, but probably not nearly as adventurous as I would be now. In Spain, a very nice restaurant brought out a free appetizer, dishes of their “signature” tripe in a viscous red paste, which tasted like balloon in tomato sauce. A year later, I had breaded fried tripe with ketchup, which was only bearable if you like breaded fried food, which mostly tastes the same, whatever it’s made from. The strangest foreign food encounter was in Tokyo. A young woman I met at the club tried to come up to my room that night, but was blocked at the elevator by five or six bellboys. The next morning, she came to my room with breakfast on not one, but two trays. One had bags from McDonalds which I think was fairly new to Japan. The other tray had Japanese delicacies that looked like staring eyeballs and rectangular jellies. I sampled what I could, but probably ate the burger and fries, too.
After that tour and a brief stay in Seattle with a friend and his extended family (and the fried tripe), I found myself back in L.A. Like so many people, life became a blur as life left less time to cook and enjoy good food. Replacing this was fast food, industrial food and junk food. I was working in a small company in Van Nuys, not a start up, but made in the same mold, with everyone feeling almost equal, the execs all cool and hip, the vegan CEO and the dress always casual. I remember when I arrived, getting to know the various people, the woman in PR and communication, describing her two-woman department, said, “We give great lead!” The head of engineering was gay, and that was a huge thing back then. It’s the first time I got to know a gay person. Everyone except the vegans ate lunch off the food truck, and most of it was disgusting, not the hip street food of these days.
Then, the company sent me to Paris to work on a laser show. Paris, unless you hang out at McDonalds, is a culinary eye opener, obviously. On a short walk, you’ll literally pass a bakery about every 8 minutes, with that buttery, not greasy smell coming from it. And the other sights and smells, when the diesel fuel isn’t bad, like coffee, meats on the rotisserie, a hundred different chocolates in the chocolaterie windows become an ecstatic sensory overload. Then a symphony of car horns jars you back to reality. I was still relegated to cheap food in a chambre de bonne with a tiny kitchen.
That all changed dramatically when I married a French woman, after my mission in Paris ended. I was introduced to simple, but delectable home cooking: tarte aux épinards, pintades, blanquette de veau and many more. Meals took time to prepare and shopping became a daily task. While today, frozen food is ubiquitous in France, there was very little of it when settled back in Paris in the 1980’s.
My current food obsession is recent. This spring, we decided to try to eat better, more natural and less industrial foods, less sugar and less fat. We became omnivores, eating less meat, but better meat, going for quality, not convenience. Then came the moment when my time was augmented while my wife’s was diminished — see what I did there, musically? — by the fact that I was retired and she was now traveling every week. Suddenly, I had a big responsibility. Executing all the phases of putting good food on the table. Grocery shopping, finding or inventing recipes, preparing the food, planning, storing… it was overwhelming, yet challenging. One of the challenges was finding certain ingredients in non-European recipes. In Paris, there are a few special stores for various cultures, American being one of these. Of course there are many Asian stores, some very big ones, even in Bordeaux, that have both fresh and processed foods from almost anywhere. For example, I first tasted jackfruit in California at a vegan restaurant. They made delicious ersatz shredded beef tacos and simulated BBQ pulled pork from this fruit. We now sometimes make enchiladas and curries using jackfruit, and there are many recipes on the web for it. I also find inspiration for new things on social networks. My latest experiment came from there and was a success: cauliflower “tater tots”.
This recipe combines low carbs and delicious taste to make about 16 of the 2-tablespoon bite-sized tots. The batch contains one egg, 1/4 cup each of whole wheat bread crumbs, diced onion and grated parmesan cheese, and three cups of the riced cauliflower. Add salt and pepper to taste and bake for 15–20 minutes. I can’t wait to try new seasonings on it, possibly different grated cheeses. It will take more math than I want execute to get a reading on calories, carbs, fat, fiber and protein, but anything even remotely bad is low!
My wife and I have both continually lost, not gained weight while adopting this new life of inspired, creative cooking and daily exercise.
Some inspiring help made the 24-hour live online event a success
When I did discover Kiva.org, in 2007, I was blown away by the idea that you could lend $25, with minor risk of losing some of it, to someone trying to run a business in a place where business loans were so risky, they were difficult to get. I was so excited, I thought of an idea. Make Kiva known to more people. To do this, I decided to organize a 24-hour live, interactive podcast. I was already podcasting on Talkshoe, and I knew of its CEO, Dave Nelson, that he was an open guy, a hands-on guy, so I emailed him about the idea one Saturday morning.
Dave’s reply came back within the hour.
Randy, here’s my cell, call me!
Think of the CEO’s who would likely have this reaction to an idea on a Saturday morning.
I’m guessing Gary Vaynerchuk, before he became a god, but probably few others.
Did you know that Jack Dorsey put his mobile number on the home page of Twitter in the first year of the fledgling site? I called it, told him about the KivaThon, and he kindly agreed to feature that for the week before.
Chris Brogan blogged about it, which in those days, was a huge deal. I see he got the idea from Mark Juliano, another Talkshoe executive.
At that time, Talkshoe was paying podcasters who reached a certain audience. To get the ball rolling, I decided to start putting all of those funds (maybe $100 a month) into Kiva. Dave generously matched the amounts our listeners loaned. The KivaThon was done over the 24 hours with about 20 hosts, Dave Nelson was one, I think Leo Laporte briefly showed up, I know Cali Lewis didn’t, although she’d agreed to it. “I completely zapped it!” she said afterward. The only downer is that, as one of the most appealing Internet famous with a large following, her help would have made a difference. However, the event was still a huge success.
I am still loaning on Kiva.org and I invite you to join me on Kiva.
A chilling accusation before cable and DVR
Back when I was living in Los Angeles, in a century far, far away from this one, I mostly worked at night. Unlike today, TV back then was three networks + PBS and the local stations. In L.A., there were five or more local stations, but in say, Minneapolis, there were only three, one for each network and one independent. Most of daytime TV was really crap, talk shows, variety shows and very old black & white movies. All of these were interrupted frequently by commercials. The worst part was the commercials, aimed at the unemployed, the retired, or women who were then known as housewives. (We joke about me being a house husband these days.) Anyway, the ads I most recall were truly awful. Often locally-produced, the actual production from image and sound, to music and acting were cringe-worthy.
I recall one product with the name AYDS (pronounced “aids”) that claimed you could “lose up to 10 pounds in 5 days, without dieting or exercising”. But most memorable wasn’t the idiotic something-for-nothing idea, but that the actor was visible, he was ugly by any standard, had visibly bad teeth and needed a shave. I remember wondering who this was good casting. Later the slogan was “Why take diet pills when you can enjoy Ayds?”
Then came the 24-hour used car lots, with ads for Ralph Williams and Cal Worthington. Cal’s ad always featured his “dog” spot.
Then came Wally Thor’s Truckmaster School of Trucking, promising you could finally “earn what you’re worth”. The slogan was “If you got it, a truck brought it!”
I thought of all this today as I contemplated whether I wanted to watch I show I have recorded. For a second I heard that judging voice asking “You’re gonna watch daytime TV?”
We were asked this question twice by club owners
The first time was is the city Prince was famously from, Minneapolis, but the question wasn’t about Prince. We needed a bass player and the best one we found happened to be black. Although the owner asked the question, Michael Brown stayed with the band and he not only played well, but was a big success with the crowd and a very funny, always good humored guy. I often wonder where he is today.
The second time was in Fresno. The club owner, later murdered by mobsters, asked this time and again, the musician in question stayed on. That was Freddie Roulette, with whom I am still in touch.
When I grew up (also in Minneapolis), it was decades before the Internet or even MTV. Color television has just become available. AM radio was king. Many of the hits we heard on the radio were by people like The Silhouettes, with their do-wah hit “Get a Job”.
Like every other teenager, I heard these songs on the radio, but I didn’t have any idea that any of the artists were black until I eventually saw them on shows like Dick Clark’s American Bandstand or The Ed Sullivan Show. It’s true that, looking at the guest lists for both shows, they are predominantly white artists, but considering the vibe of the time, it’s surprising that there were numerous popular black acts, too.
The T.A.M.I. show was a revelation. Five of the 13 acts in the film were black. Eventually, FM radio stations and TV networks began programming rhythm & blues and soul music on its own. Don Cornelius’ Soul Train began in the early 1970’s. Soul Train’s live, dancing audience was segregated, something possibly dictated by the network.
In the world of jazz, where black artists naturally dominated, there was a harder road to trod. Witness the 1966 film A Man Called Adam, starring Sammy Divis Jr. as a trumpeter who was literally urinated on outside a club.
Today, although we’re not past daily acts of racism, some them deadly, it’s ironic to witness the enormous public sense of loss and grief expressed at the passing of a Michael Jackson or Prince. I recently watched the documentary Muscle Shoals, which shines a light on men and women who worked together to make great music, enriched by the mutual respect and feeling of the musicians and singers. Where there’s music, there’s always hope.
PS: I have read and agree with this article, I didn’t capitalize the word black because at that time, it wasn’t capitalized.
I was working for a company about 20 miles outside of Paris, just around the corner from where we lived at the time when I heard about the adventure. An Australian genius was putting together a team to develop incredible graphics software in a kind of think tank/lab. It sounded great, finally a chance to be a part of something really advanced. In fact, this was to be my first encounter with the Internet, in 1987, when the workstations they installed required an “Internet address” in order to communicate. We used it daily to transfer files back and forth between Rungis and Huntsville.
I investigated, and the more I heard about this project, the more I wanted in. I drove way out in the suburbs and met the Australian and his family. I was convinced he was a genius, but he was also a wacko, a mad scientist type. Although I was not going to be a programmer, they needed coordination, someone who could understand enough about software to handle that. It also required frequent trips to Huntsville, AL, and it seemed like a good idea for them to have a native English speaker on the team. After weeks of back and forth, which made me want the gig more and more, I finally did get it. I gave my notice and my boss told me he couldn’t offer more money. I told him it wasn’t about the money, it was about the opportunity to do something really new, significant. In the end, right before I left, he actually did end up offering a raise, which I turned down.I was going to be a part of something, a group that was developing something important.
I got there and got setup, and within about two weeks, I found myself in a world I never would have suspected. A world of Lord of the Flies, or “Lost”, where all these crazy people were constantly at each other’s throats, playing stupid mind games. It didn’t help at all that this American company subsidiary was a part of a parent company with the French corporate culture which could be summed up as “keep all information secret until you can use it to your personal advantage”. So, the odor of back-stabbing was nearly omnipresent. The only straightforward human I recall seeing was the receptionist with the nice smile and the cute bangs.
I might have lasted 10 months to a year, I don’t recall, but what I do remember distinctly is this. The people in that project were the biggest wasters of their own lives and time that I’ve encountered among people capable of actually controling their own destiny. Yes, I’ve met and interacted with hookers and junkies, and frankly, I have a lot more respect for them in general than I do for these educated wankers who constantly vied for power and status, rather than actually caring about what they were supposed to do. Addicts and prostitutes don’t have an easy path to rectify their situation whereas these college graduate types could have done anything they wanted. They chose to be piranhas. They may as well have been on the Lost island. They chose to phone it in.
Be careful what you wish for is a very real concept in my mind. It took years for me to get over the disappointment that came with that job I wanted so badly. “The job I wanted so badly” is now something like the memory of the time I did in the armed forces. I’m glad I did it because, although it was horrible and a waste of my own life force, it taught me a lot. I picked myself up, left the dream lab and started a consulting business that developed into a career I never expected to have.
The most important thing you can do for yourself is to be yourself. Find your strengths and leverage them to do what you do best.
Originally published at www.randyresnick.com.