The Kitchen

[lil'buttercup]

I've been called to create this journal.

Here's a taste to get us started:

LITTLE JULIE'S WICKED GOOD CLAM CHOWDAH

1 small onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 T butter
4 small yukon gold potatoes, diced
1 bay leaf
3 T flour
1 8oz. container frozen fish stock
2 cups water
2 cups whole milk
2 ears sweet corn, cut from cob
1 can chopped clams, reserve the juice
sea salt to taste
2 fronds fennel, minced (including stems)
10 leaves basil, sliced
sprig of rosemary, chopped
2 T parsley, chopped

Sautee onions & garlic in the butter over low flame till just translucent, add potatoes & bay leaf, sautee for 2-3 minutes - do not let these ingredients brown or chowder will be bitter. Sprinkle flour into above & stir around to make a roux; stir in defrosted fish stock, water and reserved clam juice. Bring to boil then allow to simmer until potatoes are tender. Add milk and bring back to simmer, add corn for 1 minute, then clams & allow to heat through. Add fresh herbs and then salt to taste. Serve with wedges of pita toasted with cheddar cheese on top: un-be-fucking-lievable!!! It is wicked good!

I will elaborate further as we progress.

 

[lil'buttercup]

You gotta have hearth!

It seems to me, that no matter what it's size, the Kitchen is the heart of every home. The center of gravity if you will. When we arrange to meet friends and family outside of our homes, the destination almost always involves food and/or drink - even cliche gatherings around the water cooler at the office are discussions that take place over refreshments. How many conversations have you shared over a beverage grabbed from the box office fridge? The butt-swails we've collectively embedded in the booths at McManus are the result of many meals and pitchers and shots, which have fed and unleashed our imaginations night after night - we have shared not just food and drink, but bits of our souls in the process.

When I am working in the kitchen, my whole mind, heart and body is committed to the task at hand. Every sensation is utilized - taste, touch, scent, vision, sound, memory. All senses are heightened - I can tell if a pot of water is boiling not merely by the gentle clatter of the lid but also by the shift in humidity as the steam forces its way out into the world. Time slows down and bends when I'm in that place, I find that I just know when to take the pine nuts from under the broiler, when to stir up the rice and cut the heat, when to move one tray from the window and place the next in the oven. I allow myself to feel the pleasure of cold water against my skin while washing sand from a bundle of fresh basil, its peppery scent invigorating and relaxing all at once. I work out the day's frustrations with a few good pulses of the food processor and it becomes impossible for me to fret over anything but whether this sauce tastes right or not.

But I didn't start out this way. It took a LOT of crappy meals before I learned how to make a good one. One bad meal did not keep me from being hungry, just more committed to do better, to pay closer attention, to care more. Every failed dinner, every burnt cookie and shriveled piece of fish has made me want to try something different, something new! It's just a crummy little sandwich for chrissakes! I'm not going to change the world if I choose the wrong mustard. I'll choose better next time! Now scrape off the crap you don't like, slather on the stuff you do and eat it!

Having a good teacher also helps. My mother taught me early on through example, and with a patience that amazes me to this day. My grandmothers and grandfather and father as well. Chefs and bartenders at restaurants I've worked in have been more than happy to explain their magic. And every good meal that I've taken into my body has taught me invaluable lessons in balance, structure, creativity and grace. All you have to do is learn how to notice the details and the bigger picture will come clear.

In improv we start with the basics - how to play a game that never existed before. We open ourselves up to essential skills and in so doing, pave the way for complexity and invite fun to join in.

So let's start at the beginning. Or near it. I will assume you know how to boil water, fry an egg and make toast, just as I assume you can walk, breathe and speak.

THE TIE THAT BINDS:

A ROUX (pronounced "roo") is a French cooking term meaning a paste made of equal parts flour and melted fat (usually butter). This paste allows any liquid added to it to thicken without getting lumpy. The trick is to add the liquid in slowly, stirring constantly as you go. A roux is the basis for any bechamel or "white" sauce (melt butter, add flour and then milk). Again, I thank my mother for instilling this wisdom in me at a young age - she made the best home-made mac & cheese - the cheese sauce is a white sauce with shredded cheddar added in, stir until it's melted & thickened. A roux is a cooking basic that is often overlooked.

Another thickening trick good for all soups, sauces and gravies: If you've added the liquid, brought it up to a boil and it's still not thick enough, take another tablespoon of flour and put it in a small jar (baby food or spice jar), add two tablespoons of cold water, put on the lid and shake until the flour "dissolves" in the water. Drizzle this liquid flour into the hot stock while stirring & bringing it back up to a boil; this should thicken it up nicely. If you just add flour to hot liquid, it will form nasty lumps. Icky! (If it's still not thick enough, keep repeating this until your soup or whatever is the consistency you desire.)

A good roux can make a nice chowder into something great.

 

[lil'buttercup]

Stirred, Shaken

It’s hard to be pretentious when you're feeding yourself and providing others with sustenance. To take in food and drink is the great equalizer - everyone must do it in order to survive. As the saying goes, once you have broken bread with a person, you cannot then be enemies.

It does us no good to foster ill feelings against those we share the stage with. We need to leave the lines of communication clear in order to play well with each other. If I’m busy judging my scene partner, I am not committed to the scene and cannot do good work. It is fine for my character to judge his character, however. That particular brand of velvet glove is encouraged.

THE VELVET GLOVE

4 oz. vodka
2 oz. raspberry liquor
6 oz. cranberry juice
splash Coke
wedge of lime

Serve over ice. Laugh. Make peace. Make out.
____________________________________________________

Sometimes we go too far. Buttons are pushed, energies are released. We are forced to face our greatest fears by someone we once called Friend. Emotions gather up at the surface and the gloves come off.

THE IRON FIST

6 oz. Bombay Sapphire
2 oz. Kettle One
3 drops Vermouth
juice of 1 wedge of lime
1 small piece black licorice hard candy

Fill martini glass with ice and water, set aside. Add gin and vodka to shaker filled with ice, close lid & shake vigorously. Ditch contents of martini glass. Add vermouth & squeeze in lime juice, swirl glass and shake out. Drop candy in bottom of glass and strain the chilled liquor over it. Think dark thoughts, traverse deeper into the abyss and avoid others like you at all costs.

 

[lil'buttercup]

Comfort

Sometimes all we want is validation. Something, anything - a chuck under the chin, a smile, a warm hand on the shoulder - to tell us that all is O.K., that we’ve done good work, that our goals are not out of reach.

This is the part where I do not envy our teachers. We show up for class, ready and willing to devour any scrap of wisdom Delaney, Merritt, Mullaney, Brister, etc. are willing to impart. Or at least we think we’re ready. Instead we hear what we THINK he or she may have said, run up into the space and bang around like drugged down toddlers let loose in the kitchen cupboards, glazed eyes and drooling, demolishing everything of value without any of the pleasure usually reserved for such fun times. We WORK. We LABOR. We groan through each craven moment, horribly caught in our heads, beating ourselves like leaden oafs. And when our 45 minute “Harold” is taken off life support by our exasperated instructor we sigh the sigh of the suddenly unburdened. We killed Harold! We allowed Harold to die! We WANTED Harold to die…

And then our teacher is beholden to call us out on our shit. To tell us how and where everything went wrong. How we could have connected better with Harold, or at least been a friend to Harold instead of giving him cancer, genital warts and all that suckage that just happened. To give such notes concisely, without being self-referential or getting tangential, is a real skill. Giving such notes must be like giving your child medicine which you know to taste awful. But the worst thing you can do in that situation is to deny that those notes are gonna taste bad, to say it’s grape flavored or to slip it in some juice or whatever. It’s best to just be straight with the kid and say this is probably gonna suck, but I’ve got a big hug waiting for you when it’s over. To effectively offer the creamy taste of comfort after the storm has passed.

These mashed potatoes aren’t just any mashed potatoes. They are based off of the recipe my ex-boyfriend, Heath, learned from his father. His dad was a cop and died unexpectedly when he was in his early 50s of a heart attack. Heath learned about his dad’s death with less than a day’s drive to go to Seattle, where he was on his way from South Florida to begin grad school at UW. He pushed on to Seattle, moved into his place, got back in the car and drove all the way back home. How he made it through that drive, I will never know. But I have an idea. Heath is a deeply funny, creative and thoughtful guy – both whip smart and compassionate. And rather than cry all the way home, though I’m sure there was a whole lot of that, sadness can’t carry you over the Rockies or across the Great Plains, just as getting stuck in the mire of emotion won’t help you cross the Mississippi. Heath most likely thought a lot about the good times, raging on to a Skinny Puppy soundtrack, remembering his dad’s grin, his gun and his awesome mashed potatoes. God bless.

HEATH’S DAD’S AWESOME MASHED POTATOES
(Serves 4)

6 good-sized Yukon Gold potatoes
6 cloves garlic
1 t salt
3/4 C sour cream
2 T butter
1/2 C milk
1 T fresh rosemary, minced
1/8 t fresh ground nutmeg
pepper to taste

Peel potatoes and dice. Place in medium sized saucepan and just cover with water. Bring up to a boil, add garlic cloves and salt. Lower to a simmer and allow the potatoes to just cook through – test with a fork after about 7 minutes. While potatoes are cooking, mince the rosemary needles and grate the nutmeg (use a whole nut and drag it quickly back & forth across the rough side of your grater). When potatoes are tender, drain and place back in saucepan. Add remaining ingredients and mash thoroughly with a potato masher or whip with an electric beater. Add more milk if potatoes are too dry. (You may use light sour cream and skim milk if you’re into that kind of thing. For that matter, these are also good with the skins left on. And by all means, add more garlic if ya wanna - if I really want that extra kick I'll crush a fresh clove & stir it in at the end!)

 

[lil'buttercup]

Anticipation...

Just when you think you know what’s coming at you – that comet explodes and changes your world. It is not only fun to catch someone else off guard, but crucial to play along if you are the one who has been called out. There is something perennially refreshing about someone seeing right through you – I feel grateful that anyone should take the time and pleasure to notice some little thing about me that would normally go unnoticed or unrecognized. A brotherhood forms, in some small way, from the joy of knowing that on some scale somebody “gets you”. It is always best to not script your responses, but to remain open to discovery. Free associate, hone in on the specifics of the information being given to you and then dive in from there. This will enable you and your scene partner to “hook in” or “plug in” to each other. It’s rare in life to find anyone who really listens to you – so when it happens on stage, it makes it all the more wonderful, for you and your audience.

I try to mix things up as much as I can. I start with a basic recipe, which I then compare with several other similar recipes – to get a more global perspective, if you will. From this culmination I distill it down into one basic, basic recipe. Sort of like saying, “Yes, and…” and then pulling it back down to it’s roots. It is from this point that I start to embellish and experiment. Think through the tastes your meal will provide and then balance it out with one wonderful, unexpected zinger… something savory and crisp, perhaps?

Keep it simple and use quality ingredients, and you will be a sure success.

I like to serve these Pita Crisps with just about everything. Pita bread is wonderfully versatile and can become savory, spicy, salty or sweet depending on what ingredients you grace it with. Pita Crisps are the ultimate accessory.

PITA CRISPS:
(each recipe serves 2-4)

Start all recipes with:
2 pitas, cut in half and split all the way open

SWEET SPICE CRISPS –
1 T butter
2 t sugar
1/4 t ground cinnamon
1/8 t ground cloves
1/8 t ground ginger
pinch salt

Melt butter and brush on each pita. Combine dry ingredients and sprinkle evenly over the pita slices. Toast each pita in toaster oven until browned lightly on the edges for tender crisps, or keep in a bit longer for crunchy crisps.


SAVORY CRISPS –
1T extra virgin olive oil
1 t dried rosemary, crumbled (or 2 t fresh, minced)
1/2 t dried oregano, crumbled (or 1 t fresh, minced)
1/4 t powdered garlic
1/8 t ground nutmeg
2 T grated parmesan reggiano
ground pepper & sea salt to taste

Brush olive oil on each pita. Sprinkle dry ingredients evenly over oiled pitas, follow with the cheese and toast until cheese is bubbling and the edges are browned.



ESSENTIAL INFORMATION:

HERBS – Use fresh herbs whenever they’re available. In their absence, dried will do, but be sure to crumble them quickly and roughly between your fingers before you add them to any recipe. By crushing and rubbing them you release the essential oils that give the herbs their flavor. For dried herbs that you wish to powder, please follow directions for SPICES below.

SPICES – Please, please, please do yourself a favor and make a habit of grinding your spices fresh. Just about every spice can be bought in its whole form. Break larger spices like cinnamon sticks up into smaller pieces before adding to your spice mill. You don’t have to spend money on a special mill! Just use your coffee grinder – it will do an awesome job! (Plus, your coffee will taste AMAZING from the residue of sweet spices like cloves – though you’ll probably want to wipe your grinder verrrrry clean after using it to grind hot peppers or cumin & such.) The only spice I do not generally use the mill for is nutmeg, which I usually just grate on the rough side of my cheese grater (though you can use the mill on the smaller end pieces of the leftover nut).

ALWAYS STORE YOUR DRIED HERBS & SPICES IN THE FREEZER!!! They will keep for a much longer time and not get musty or lose flavor. The essential oils that give them their unique and distinct flavors are very volatile and will deteriorate quickly when left in the open and especially when exposed to heat. Although your spice rack may look attractive by your stove, you are killing your herbs & spices if you keep them there!!! Seriously. If you learn only one thing from this journal, let it be this. (Also, you should never refrigerate tomatoes unless they’ve been sliced already, but this is another subject entirely.)

 

[lil'buttercup]

Far, Far Away

“Everyone needs to find a reason to explore, not reasons not to explore.”

“Don’t solve the problem, live in it… but find the fun in it.”

- Michael Delaney

If everything is clicking and we are into each other, we can just close our eyes and feel the heat of the Aegean sun on our eyelids. Within the Harold we are at license to pick up and be anywhere at any time. Every Harold has an unlimited budget replete with lavish costumes, exquisite sets and exotic locals – even if your scene takes place in your character’s kitchen in Springfield Suburbia. This is your character’s HOME. Make that kitchen as specific as you can, know its layout and make it a direct reflection of who your character is. Is he searing tuna in an All-Clad pan over a Viking range or is he stirring ramen noodles in a rickety hotplate circa. 1978? And who is he planning to share food with? Donna Reed? Amelia Earhart? The Blob? Choose your details wisely and the rest will fall into place. Certainly you should make the scene about the other person, about your relationship to one another, but do remember to invest yourself with gifts and special powers as well.

Just make your choices quickly and with no looking back. In real life we often run into walls and get ourselves stuck. We feel trapped, bogged down and anxious as we fight against the wet blanket we’re buried under. The only way to pull out of it is to realize that we choose our obstacles - and can just as easily un-choose them. Have faith in your ability to make the right choice, because you might find what you’re looking for hidden inside. You never know what the fates hold in store for you, as blessings are very often cloaked in disguise.

So peel back the layers, dig down deep and grasp hold of the truth, whatever you (or your character) perceive that to be. And remember, honesty really is the best policy. Always. That is where true kinship lies.


SPANIKOPITA (for Ed)
makes 24 appetizer-sized triangles

4 sheets of phyllo dough

1 T olive oil
2 cloves garlic
1 medium leek, (the tender white part) thinly sliced
6 C packed spinach leaves, washed, dried & thinly shredded
4 T chopped fresh mint
2 t ground cumin
1/2 c crumbled feta
1 block firm/extra firm tofu, thoroughly drained and crumbled
1/4 c ricotta
1/3 c toasted pine nuts or chopped walnuts
zest of one lemon, grated
2 T fresh lemon juice
pinch of sea salt
1 stick butter

SPECIAL TOOL: Pastry Brush

Heat oil in skillet, sauté garlic & leek for 5 min. or until leek is soft. Add spinach, mint & cumin; stir-fry for 2 min until spinach begins to wilt. Remove from heat & cover.

Beat the feta, tofu, ricotta, lemon zest and lemon juice together with a hand mixer or use your food processor. Stir in toasted nuts then combine mixture with the wilted spinach.

Melt butter. Place sheets of phyllo dough out on a clean, flat surface. Using a sharp knife, cut stack of sheets into six 3 1/2” x 18” strips (24 strips total). Keep remaining strips covered as you brush one strip of pastry with the butter. Place a heaping tablespoon of filling at one end of the strip and fold over, diagonally from one side to the other, the length of the pastry to enclose the filling completely (like folding a flag). Repeat to make 24 triangles. Brush each with remaining butter. Place on cookie sheet and bake 25 minutes or until golden. Then go rock on with your own bad self. Peace.

(If you wish to serve in entree-size portions, cut phyllo in 7" x 18" strips and increase the amount of filling accordingly. However, it is best to do a double or triple layer of phyllo in order to keep it from falling apart. Just brush butter between the layers of dough before you assemble the strips into triangles. Serves six.)


ESSENTIAL INFORMATION:

PHYLLO WHAT??? Phyllo (pronounced “FEE-low”) is an ultra-thin pastry dough that you can find pre-made in the freezer section of most grocery stores, it comes rolled up in a long box. Follow the box’s instructions for defrosting. Each sheet of phyllo is as thin as paper and is very, very fragile. You must work quickly to keep it from drying out. I like to keep a lightly dampened (clean!) dishtowel on hand to drape over the unused sheets as they wait to keep them moist, but not wet! Don’t let it get wet or it will fuse all together and you’ll have a shredded mess on your hands. Narsty.

WHAT THE HAY IS A LEEK? Leeks are a member of the onion family, only the plants do not form a bulb. Instead the tender base part of the stem is used to provide a subtle, onion-esque flavor. The plant itself looks a lot like really big & pumped up green onions or scallions. You can use the tough green ppart of the leaves to make stock with, if you’re into having fresh stock on hand. More on the wonders of stock at a later date.

WASH YOUR SPINACH!!! There are few things worse than biting into an otherwise delicious dish and finding you have a mouthful of sand. Even if the bag says it’s been triple washed, dunk your spinach leaves in a huge bowl of cold water and then lift the leaves out on to a towel. Dump the sandy water out and repeat the process until there is no sand. Then dry the spinach in a fresh towel or your handy-dandy salad spinner. Salad spinners are sooooo very cool. Centrifugal force is awesome!

TO DRAIN TOFU: Place tofu between two cutting boards and put the boards next to your sink. Prop up one side of the cutting board (the side away from the sink) so that draining liquid is caught in the sink. Put a heavy book (the Manhattan Yellow Pages work well, or that huge edition of The Complete Annotated Works of William Shakespeare you got for graduation will do the trick, too) on top of the top cutting board to create a makeshift press. Let it sit like that for about 20-30 minutes while you’re preparing the rest of the ingredients. Drip, drip, drip…

 

[lil'buttercup]

Bittersweet

An actual exchange:

(MD and lb alone in hallway as elevator arrives.)
lb: Ooops! They it ee-uz!
(They step into the elevator. MD presses the button for the lobby. A pause. Door closes and they smile at each other. MD is eating a cookie.)
MD: This is a very good cookie. (While chewing) Mmmmm.
lb: Thank you. I mean, you’re welcome.
MD: I mean it, this is an extraordinary cookie.
lb: (Smiles.) Now, if only I could get a compliment like that in class.
MD: (Stifling a laugh.) Whhaaa-hah-hat??? (Looks quizzically into eyes of his student. Swallows.)
(Elevator slowly descends in silence.)
lb: (Exhales breath.) I guess if I could make up a scene as good as my cookies, then I’d get a compliment from you. I’m glad you like it, though – the cookie. I made up the recipe today.
MD: (Pauses.) There are no recipes for improv.
lb:] Yeah…(Elevator “dings” and bumps as they hit their floor.)
MD: It would be nice if there was one, but there isn’t. (Elevator door opens.) You never know how it will turn out! (They exit to lobby. She rushes ahead to the door as he fumbles for his cigarettes.)
lb: (Calling over her shoulder, laughing.) You’re right! (Out of earshot now and under her breath as she breaks into a run.) You are so, so right.



EXTRAORDINARY CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
(Makes 3 ½ to 4 dozen)

1 ¼ c unsalted butter
1 ½ c granulated sugar
1/3 c unsulphured molasses
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 ¼ c unbleached all-purpose flour
½ t salt
½ t baking soda
1 ½ c coarsely chopped, lightly toasted walnuts or pecans
1 12 oz. package semi-sweet or bittersweet chocolate pieces

Preheat oven to 375 F. Heat butter in saucepan till it just melts. Remove from heat and allow to cool to room temperature while preparing other ingredients. Measure sugar and molasses into large mixing bowl. Whisk in melted butter until combined. Whisk in eggs and then the vanilla. Set aside.

In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, soda and salt. If you do not have a sifter, a meshed sieve and a spoon works well (put dry ingredients into the sieve and place over a bowl, stir the spoon around against the mesh till the dry ingredients have sifted through). Add the flour mixture to the wet ingredients and stir together with a sturdy spoon. When a creamy dough has formed, stir in the nuts and chocolate. Drop by rounded spoonfuls onto lightly greased cookie sheet, allowing a bit of room between for them to spread. Bake 8-10 minutes (or till edges are lightly browned) on the top rack and allow to cool on the sheet for a few minutes before transferring them to a wire rack with a spatula.

***PLEASE REMEMBER TO USE ORGANIC INGREDIENTS WHEN AVAILABLE. BETTER FOR YOU + BETTER FOR THE EARTH = BETTER FOR EVERYONE. ***

 

[lil'buttercup]

Heat

Oh, the wind! How she blows and blows! Has the sun come up yet? I don’t even know. And the rain, so cold – it shows no remorse. It slaps its way rudely as it finds its course and floods the drains with yesterday’s news.

But quiet your mind for just a moment… shhhh. Breathe.

Now.

…There is a certain heat rising up from the earth and a great fire casting a glow on you from above. Then, a breeze. And music. Palm fronds rustle to the swiveling tempo of the cumbia sound echoing from the bandstand, that drumbeat thrum gently lifting and pressing its hips to yours. Hands on your shoulder blades, skin damp from the sun and the movement of the dance, salt running in your eyes. Your shuffling feet are scrubbed bare from the beach and there is sand caught in crevices you had forgotten you possessed. Fabric sticks to the small of your back as the music sweeps and the musk of your lover carries you closer to bliss. You inhale and the scents of cocoa, fresh lime and brine fill your head, lighter now from the rum and your love and the dance. It took you three flights, a lie to your mother and the greasing of countless “authorities” to get you here, but it has been worth every last centavo. This is why we make money – this is why. Dizziness! Your heart is beating its way out of its cage! Now is the only time! You have been transported and it is so, SO good.

You are your SELF again.

Damn the rain!



COQUITO
(serves you and several friends)

4 sticks cinnamon
2 t whole cloves
zest of ½ lemon
1 ½ cup water
1 can fat free evaporated milk
1 can fat free condensed milk
1 can coconut milk, strained
pinch sea salt
Light rum to taste

Bring spices, lemon rind and water to a boil; simmer (with the pot covered) for 20 minutes. Add this “tea” to the remaining ingredients, blend all well and chill. Make ahead the day before for best mingling of flavors. Keeps up to two weeks in your fridge. Serve on the rocks or run through your blender with ice for a frozen treat. Garnish with freshly grated cinnamon. Get the cushy spot on the sofa but make sure the floor is clear, choose your soundtrack wisely and share with someone you’re crushing on, hard. Now move. (Cheesy little umbrella optional.)

 

[lil'buttercup]

Sour

Can we know what Sweet is if we have never truly experienced Sour?

I passed a man spraying leaves from his front stoop yesterday morning, forcing them out from the cracks and corners of each step, remnants of the great Nor’ Easter that blew through town the day before. But these leaves he was cleaning out were not dead yet. They had literally been ripped from the trees lining President Street by the sheer force of the storm! They were all quite green, most still clustered together on their bits of branches. It was as if by huddling together and holding tight they had hoped to escape the grasp of that great wind.

Fall has been late in coming this year; the trees aren’t turning in spite of the dropping temperatures. Their quiet stubbornness is getting them nowhere! Soon we’ll have our first frost and they’ll lose their precious foliage by brute force! It’s lately occurred to me that all God’s creation is a pretty bullheaded lot. We have to be torn from what we hold dearest to allow the proper changes to take their course. By clinging to what is clearly not meant to be, we actually sabotage ourselves. Our best efforts to stave off the encroaching cold are doomed for failure in the face of the inevitable, and we only cause further damage in our refusal to simply let go. When will I accept that just because I want something doesn’t mean that now is my time to have it? Allow. Yes, accept! Change cannot be refused. I need to fold myself into the shift and learn the new ways, take each blow head on and fill myself up in its power. Only then will I emerge victorious.

Berrebbi pushed the shit out of us in practice group the other night – at one point I was screaming “Hello!” to that breaking point where I just could not stop laughing from the discomfort of the push. I was so far beyond any known reality, there was no place for me to put it – I caved! But then came a point where I literally dove in: I placed my hands together, tucked my head, extended my arms and dove right into the floor, and when I came up for air I was a wailing, writhing paraplegic, desperately dragging myself forward with my arms, Brian yelling for me to be that ugly thing, that one thing that I was most afraid of, to get in there and under it and make it happen! And the rest of the group was gasping and groaning, afraid I would chose to pass this pathetic character on to one of them. And so I did what came naturally. I chose the one person who had the most fear; the one person who I knew truly didn’t want to take it on. And when the transfer came, she took it beautifully. But she was still really scared.

It caused me draw the parallel yet again to the whole point behind learning Shakespeare. If you can reach that pinnacle of effectively communicating and embodying the heightened language and circumstances of any piece of his work, then you are fit to take on any bit of acting that may ever come your way. Anything at all: Selling soap? You bet. Solo show on HBO? Bring it the fuck on!

We do it to ourselves. And maybe we’re pushed because we really do need to be pushed. We MUST be. Because, while there is comfort in what's past, and solace in what is already known, even the trees are aware enough to fear the future. What's to come is infinitely frightening, but only if you let it be so. It’s sad that we have to resort to emotional (and often physical) violence to get through it, though.

This is the last recipe I ever received from my grandmother before she passed. She made it every year for our Christmas Eve feast, which was always vegetarian (according to the Slovak belief that this is the Night of Peace, therefore no blood should be shed). First she would have one of us read the story of the Nativity while she broke a special communion wafer into small pieces. Onto each bit of wafer she would put a nice smear of honey. When the story was finished, we would all say the Lord’s Prayer and Grandma would give us each a piece of the wafer, to help us be sweet in the next year. Then we would sit down to small china cups of this sour soup. When I phoned her for the recipe, I was impatient with her as she rambled through the proper preparation of the ingredients. I was in a rush and I had many errands to run – getting the recipe was just one thing on a long list of things to be done in preparation of my own first Christmas Eve feast. I should have listened better; I should have been a better friend to her. But before I coaxed her into saying goodbye, she made me promise to remind my guests that, “This is a very sour soup! It’s good, but it’s sour! ” – Just as she had reminded us every year after our annual dose of honey. I miss her so much.



GRANDMA MERICK’S SOUR MUSHROOM SOUP

1 lb. (or more) fresh mushrooms, washed and chopped
1 large and 1 medium onion finely chopped
½ cup butter
2 quarts water
4 5 ½ oz. cans sauerkraut juice (obtainable at most Polish, Russian or Slavic groceries – in a pinch I’ve substituted a bag of sauerkraut)
1 cup barley, cooked separately according to standard directions
(Optional: ½ cup apple juice)

In a large pot, sauté onions in butter till translucent. Add mushrooms and cook till soft. Add the water and sauerkraut juice and bring up to a boil. Add the cooked barley and heat through. If too sour, add more water or the apple juice a bit at a time until it’s just right. Season to taste.

 

[lil'buttercup]

Purity

I have a bruise on my left shin from attempting to do a forward roll onto the stage at one in the morning. I didn’t tuck up in time and my leg caught the edge of the stage. I have another on my left shoulder from learning how to do a move called a Snapmare. This is where you look as though you’re being thrown to the ground over your opponent’s shoulder, but they actually just guide you through you doing a forward flip and roll. My left knee is also a little fucked up – I’m not sure exactly how, but it happened sometime during the first run of our fight in the wee small hours of the morning last night. I’m most concerned about the knee so I’m going to do my best to place most of my weight on my right during tonight’s show. MTV executives will be there. My former neighbor and friend Maryann will be there. Maybe you will be there, too.

I think I’m hurting my left side more because I’m right handed and lead off with my right foot. I even tend to chew on the right side of my mouth. So the muscles on my right side are more acclimated to initiating motion and usually have the strength to carry my left side through mundane tasks. But a Snapmare is hardly mundane. It’s forcing me to realize how imbalanced my body is, which easily carries over into thoughts of imbalance in my life. From there it’s just a short jog over to imbalance in my personality… and ach! That’s a can of worms best left under the sink, if ya know what I mean…But no, I must examine each little squirmy wormy and find out what it’s purpose is – no bliss of an unexamined life for little J.T. No way.

We put a lot of pressure on ourselves. At least I do, and I’ve observed how others do the same. I am definitely my own worst critic, I can really be such a bastard to myself. And what’s worse is that I never hesitate to hone in on my weakest spots and pummel them, especially when I’m already down. The only way to steel yourself from sliding down that spiral is to strengthen all of yourself. Instead of beating up on your weaknesses, focus instead on reshaping them, supporting them and giving them cause to be stronger. Find ways of shoring up the aspects of you that don’t jibe. And celebrating the weirdness you possess! That’s of utmost importance. In scenework we are encouraged to “find the unusual thing and play off of that” – this holds true in our lives as well. What makes you unique? What lights you up? What turns you on? This is one way of becoming stronger without focusing on being stronger. If you’re concentrating on being one certain way, you’re just adding to the stress, making it a chore and shutting yourself off from opportunity. Allow your motivation for change to arise organically, from within what is already you. Then it’s not work. It’s fun. Just pure, plain fun!

One of these recipes is from my brother, Daniel, a raw foodist. The theory behind eating solely raw foods is that cooking destroys the enzymes that give life. So rather than filling up on dead things, raw foodists eat only vegetables, fruits, seeds and grains that have their enzymatic structure intact, so dehydrating and soaking is OK, but boiling, broiling, baking and frying is out. They are also strong proponents of eating only organic foods. I’m enough of a cooked food addict to resist his appeals to me for total change. But I do try to incorporate as many aspects of his methods of eating as possible. And I do tend toward vegetarianism – I just don’t feel good after eating meat. I feel sluggish, overly full and thick headed. So I would say that only 20% of my diet is from an animal source, and that’s including fish, cheese and eggs. I’ve managed to eek up my average amount of raw foods to about 30% of my diet, though that changes with the seasons – in the summer it’s easier to go over 60% raw, but in the winter it may drop down to 20%. And though he’s to the point where he thinks nothing of eating raw kale and whole watermelons – seeds, rinds and all, I’m happier with a nice salad of baby field greens and his recipe for Raw Apple Pie. So I’ll stick with what make me happy, and take it from there.



JULIE’S FAVORITE FIELD GREENS SALAD
(serves 2)

Four generous handfuls of mixed baby greens (aka. Mesclun)
¾ cup raw walnuts, lightly toasted
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter or grapeseed oil
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup molasses
½ tsp. sea salt
One ripe pear or apple, cut in half, cored and sliced thinly
Balsamic vinegar and extra virgin olive oil to taste
Fresh ground black pepper to taste

Wash and spin greens till dry. Divide onto two plates. Melt butter or oil in small saucepan, add sugar, molasses and salt stir over low flame till sugar is melted. Toss in walnuts and coat, stir till nuts start to turn dry. Remove from heat. Slice the pear or apple and arrange over the greens. Divide the sweetened nuts evenly over each plate. Drizzle with balsamic and olive oil, grind black pepper and serve. Goes well with Sauvignon Blanc.



DANIEL’S RAW APPLE PIE
(makes one pie)

Filling
5 or 6 apples (Fuji, Gala, etc.)
2-3 tsp. Cinnamon
¼ tsp. Nutmeg
¼ tsp. Allspice
1/8 tsp. Black pepper
3 Tbsp. Honey
juice of one lemon

Using food processor or potato masher, puree all but one apple with the remaining ingredients. Cut the remaining apple in half and core. Thinly slice and toss with lemon, taking care not to break up the slices as they will be arranged on top of the pie when it is done.

Crust
2 cups medjool dates (fresh and mushy), pitted and soaked in HOT WATER for 5 minutes
4 cups raw nuts (almond, pecans, walnuts), ground until very fine
sea salt to taste

Mush dates, nuts and salt together with potato masher until thoroughly combined. Press into pie plate to form a crust, then add filling and decorate in circular pattern with apple slices. This pie is magnificent!

 

[lil'buttercup]

Blood

I had a very busy week last week, what with some personal conundrums twisting me in the heart, a terrible case of self-imposed insomnia, Piledriver and Killgore butting up against each other and houseguests up the patootie. By the way, DeCoster wins the New Neighbor of the Year award for letting me crash on his floor this weekend without a moment of hesitation on his part. My musician friend Julie is staying with me for a few weeks while she’s back in town from touring, but I had to kick her out (in addition to myself) for the weekend to make room for another friend’s mother, Olene, and her elderly friend, Jill. Olene and Jill were here for a Christian Science refresher course, and they are both quite devoted to their religion. For her hostess gifts to me, Olene provided me with backyard treasures: key limes, a few calamondins , orange blossom honey and copies of her latest children’s books about Jesus’ healings. I’m not sure what to make of that. They are both incredibly sweet and loving ladies, and Olene is justifiably proud of her recent publications, but… I just can’t get out of my mind the fact that her own niece was allowed to DIE over nothing more significant than appendicitis. Jen was only 16 when she “crossed over”. The healing power of prayer, right? I thanked her profusely and had her sign the covers for me, and will probably read them when I have the time, but where do I shelve that information? For the record, her daughter and my friend, Amy, abandoned her family’s faith long ago and is up here in New York for the next 3 weeks to have ear surgery and allow for recovery time. The tension between her and her mother is palpable, but then again, so is the love. Amy and I saw her mom & Jill off after an afternoon at the Brooklyn Museum of Art (EVERYONE should go see Judy Chicago's The Dinner Party - this is required viewing, people!) and promptly proceeded to drink nearly two bottles of wine and share an utterly decadent meal at Rose Water. Smack dat!

FYI, Piledriver went wonderfully well. I overheard two audience members describe it as, "...more of an EVENT than just a show. Like, a happening, you know?" I will tell you this much, I've never had my choice in underwear publicly acknowledged like I have since joining the cast of wrestlers in Piledriver.

Beyond that, Killgore was great fun. New friendships were forged and established ones renewed during the 48 hours everyone spent together. Highlights included procuring pantyhose for Horatio, hauling a three foot long dildo around while asking if anyone had seen Chad Carter, grilling the local pharmacist on the legality of purchasing syringes without a prescription (you can buy up to 10 at a time), the great little taco dive revealed to me by MattPack, sleeping on the train with DeCoster, cuddles from Rocco, twisting blood packs with Billy Hot Chocolate, the nausea accompanying the clean-ups between shows, the dazed out after party and most of all, the utterly fabulous back and arm massage given to me by Macoule himself, heightened at one point by a hand massage from Dunford. What I did to deserve such an outpouring of love, I will never know. But my neighbors (other than DeCoster) must be wondering why my sneakers, which are perched on my shoe shelf outside my door, are covered in blood. Icky, sticky blood! M-m-m-mbwah-hah-hah-hah!!!!!

Note to the Matts, the blood still wasn't red enough!

So the overriding themes of the past week were Pain (the illusion of and actual), Gore (strictly the illusion of, though a minor amount of actual blood was drawn at one point) and Healing (again, the illusion of and actual).

Fun for all the family!

Red Velvet Cake is a Southern favorite: a soft, fluffy, mildly chocolaty cake, which also happens to be frighteningly red. In order to mask its color before the cake is cut and showcase its scarlet hue once it is, Red Velvet Cake is traditionally enrobed in a white cream cheese frosting. The first time I had Red Velvet Cake was when I was attending college in North Carolina. Although I had lived in Florida half my life, I was a dissatisfied New Englander at heart and was surrounded by transplanted Northerners intent on playing golf and attending water parks until they died. In retaliation, I found myself seeking out “Old Florida” whenever I could, searching in vain for authenticity in the pre-fab world that sprang up overnight along the Southwest coast. Aside from a few redneck shrimp shacks, a love of Jimmy Buffet and some amazing grouper sandwiches, I came up mostly empty handed. North Carolina remedied that for me, starting with the first road trip I took to Nag’s Head when I was 18. And life in Winston-Salem was a crash course in the finer points of all things Southern, which I took to quite quickly. I felt embraced by a culture like I never had before, and folks there were so willing to share their homes, their family secrets and favorite recipes, with nothing expected in return but a kind word and a smile. I still feel a strong connection to that part of the country; the red clay and gentle twang of her collective voice says home to me like nothing else.


RED VELVET CAKE
(not for the timid)

2-¼ cups all-purpose flour, sifted
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons high quality cocoa powder
2 1-ounce bottles of red food coloring (equivalent measure is ¼ cup or 4 tablespoons)
½ cup unsalted butter, softened
1-½ cups sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon white vinegar
1 teaspoon baking soda

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 9-inch cake pans.

Combine the sifted flour and salt, and set aside.

Put the cocoa in a small glass bowl, and add the food coloring gradually, stirring until mixture is smooth. Set aside.

Cream butter and sugar together, beating for 4 or 5 minutes at medium speed with a hand mixer until fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating for at least 30 seconds after each addition.

At low speed of your mixer, add the flour mixture to the sugar mixture alternately with the buttermilk and vanilla, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary. Add the cocoa/food coloring mixture, mixing until color of batter is uniform. Do not overbeat; overbeaten cake batter will result in a tough cake. Oh, and have fun licking the beaters, but be careful! Red food coloring stains.

In a small bowl, mix the vinegar with the baking soda. It will foam up. Stir it briefly to mix, and then add it to the cake batter, folding it in to incorporate well, but do not beat. (This part makes me feel like a Mad Scientist!)

Pour the batter into the prepared cake pans, and bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Allow layers to cool on a rack for 10 minutes before turning out. Let cake cool completely before frosting. You can do it as a two-layer cake, but the real way is to make it as a four-layer cake. To do this, take a long strand of tooth floss (!) and draw it carefully parallel through each cooled cake. Gently lift off each layer and assemble. You may need to make a little extra frosting to accommodate the extra layers, but a little extra frosting never hurt anybody - at least not overtly!


CREAM CHEESE FROSTING

6 oz. light cream cheese
6 T. butter
1 t. vanilla extract
2 c. powdered sugar, sifted

Allow cream cheese and butter to come to room temperature, cream with vanilla and powdered sugar. I’ve also heard of folks putting chopped pecans in their frosting. If that suits your fancy, by all means, do go ahead.

 

[lil'buttercup]

Serious Fun!

I gave myself a brief hiatus, but am looking forward to the next few weeks - I've got a lot of yummy recipes in store. I've also been published in Shannon Mannings' new magazine, Pipe Up! Check me out, I'm a soopah-stah!

Since we're celebrating, why not do our best to mix things up a bit? While tradition may demand certain things of us, such as wearing clothes or giving children first and last names, must we always have the same meal every year to commemorate a holiday? How many green bean casseroles have you doomed yourself to endure? I do not propose you turn the table entirely on its end, but instead infuse your holiday gathering with one or two fresh ideas each year. Give yourself the opportunity to start a new tradition or borrow one that sounds exciting! Make it something fun and you’ll find you and yours will be pleased, even thrilled, with the results.

In the Harold, there is a clear and definitive form, but we are free to explore within that form, so that each Harold is truly unique. No need to keep pointing out the infrastructure – it’s like reminding yourself you have bones or that you should breathe. The reference is implied automatically, you have no need to worry yourself over it. Trust your preparation and leave yourself free to initiate, create, respond and support; you know where to go so just let it happen, forget about what you “should” or “shouldn’t” do. Once it begins, it is on its way to oblivion and memory; just relish each moment you find yourself in and allow the next to fall effortlessly. Wow, I make it sound so easy…

The best part about this dish is that you can make the most labor-intensive portion, the Black Olive Risotto, the night or even several days before, leaving you time to relax with your guests. More time savers: Wash the arugula and finely dice the peppers ahead of time so it's all ready to go when it comes time to serve dinner. You can also have your fish purveyor clean the scallops for you so all you have to do is season them and toss 'em into the pan. Keep your counter clean and clear so you have room to plate each dish. Great minds need space! Allow about 40 minutes the night of the dinner to pull it all together and get a friend to help you with the final touches. The French have a term for this advanced preparation: mis en place (pronounced "MEEZ-ahn-plahs", haughty curling of upper lip optional). It means "everything in it's place" and gives the chef the freedom to fly when the order is brought in - he can get right to the serious business of making the food, not frittering time away peeling potatoes or churning butter. Have it all ready to go and it gives you license to play. Whee!


SEARED SCALLOPS ON BLACK OLIVE RISOTTO CAKES WITH ARUGULA SALAD AND BELL PEPPER CONFETTI
Serves 4 (prepare risotto at least 7 hours in advance as it needs time to chill – don’t we all?)

2 Tablespoons olive oil
3 medium shallots, minced
1 cup Arborio rice (available at most upscale groceries or any Italian market)
1 cup dry white wine (Pinot Grigio or whatever you’re drinking)
2 ½ cups chicken or vegetable stock, msg free & low salt
sea salt and cayenne pepper to taste
½ cup grated Pecorino Romano (or other hard aged cheese)
½ cup pitted and roughly chopped oil cured black olives
flour
5 Tablespoons grape seed oil

16 medium sea scallops (about 1 pound), tendons removed
Basil-infused olive oil

Fresh arugula, washed & dried
Balsamic vinegar and extra virgin olive oil to taste
1/4 each red and yellow bell pepper, seeded and minced into a teeny-tiny dice

Heat oil in large, heavy saucepan. Add shallots, and sauté till translucent, but do not brown. Add rice and stir constantly until grains are coated with oil. Stir in wine, stock, salt and cayenne to taste. Bring up to a boil and reduce heat to a simmer. Cover and cook rice until it’s very creamy, approx. 15-20 minutes. Remove from heat, uncover and stir in cheese and olives until evenly incorporated. If you like, you may also stir in a tablespoon of butter for flavor.

Scrape rice into a 9 inch square pan lined with parchment. Level the rice mixture with a rubber spatula or back of a spoon. Cool to room temperature, about an hour. Cover pan and refrigerate until firm and chilled, at least 6 hours.

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Use 3 ½ inch biscuit cutter to punch 4 discs out of cooled rice (scraps can be smooshed together to form an extra disc). Lightly dust rice cakes with extra flour.

Heat oil in 12-inch non-stick skillet over medium heat. Slide cakes, smooth side down, into hot pan. Do not over-heat the oil as it will spit and you’ll risk burning yourself. Cook until crisp and browned on the bottom, flip cakes over and transfer pan to center rack of oven. Bake until second side is crisp and browned, about 7 minutes.

While rice cakes are in the oven, season scallops with salt and cayenne. Heat oil in large skillet over high heat, add scallops and reduce heat to medium-high. Cook until bottoms are golden brown, turn with tongs and brown the other side. Transfer scallops to platter lined with a paper towel.

When rice cakes are sufficiently browned, transfer them to a platter lined with a paper towel. Place one rice cake and four scallops on each plate, drizzle with basil oil and serve with a nice arugula salad tossed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Garnish with minced bell pepper. I recommend serving with a lighter but provocative Spanish red wine, like a rioja crianza.


ESSENTIAL INFORMATION:

THE LADY OF SHALLOT: Shallots are the bulb of an herb that tastes like a mild blend of garlic and onion. Sexy!

POT-HEAD, REDEFINED: Get yourself some good pots and pans already! There’s no time like the present and it’s worth it. Your cookware should be of good quality and HEAVY – as in, if you throw your pot at the wall and have any doubts as to which will win, your pot or the wall, your pot is too thin. You really only need two saucepans – one small (1 qt.) and one large (3 or 4 qts.), one big stock pot for spaghetti and such, and ideally two frying pans – one small and one large. It’s cool to have non-stick frying pans, but it really isn’t necessary for your pots. Find the kind of cookware that has aluminum sandwiched between an anodized coating or a non-reactive metal, like stainless steel, all the way around the pans, not just at the bottom. This provides even heating and cooking throughout the pan, which will also help prevent hot spots and burning. Check out stoop, yard, garage and estate sales, hit up your grandma for her old cast iron stuff, ask your honey to pitch in and keep your eyes peeled for bargains on e-bay (I picked up my All-Clad Stainless pots there for a song). Be vigilant in keeping them nice and you’ll have them forever. It’s really OK to be a little house proud, I promise.

STAY SHARP! You must have a good set of knives! It is just that simple. You only need three – one 8 or 9 inch chef’s knife, a serrated bread knife and one paring knife, plus a sharpening steel. I use and recommend Wüsthof Classic, but it’s important for you to go to a cutlery dealer and ask to handle each knife, finding one that’s weighted nicely and properly balanced. You want one that is strong and will bear up over the years, so buy only a high-carbon, tempered, hand-forged knife with a full tang through the handle. You will have this knife the rest of your life with proper care, so it is worth the investment. Have the salesperson demonstrate how to sharpen it using the steel and show you proper cutting, storage and maintenance techniques – Crate and Barrel or Williams Sonoma is great for that kind of service if you ask, but you’ll always find a better price at C&B. I promise you, once you try food preparation with an honest-to-goodness professional knife, you will never go back – it makes it all sooooo easy. It really is that good!