On April Fools day I started a little mini-partial-in-house-personal-retreat for the
whole month and I had a wonderful day with some sweet new friends romping about
discovery park and other places. We had a wishing rock (which evidently is any rock
with a little circle vein of rock that goes all the way around the rock but this was a
special one). I made a bunch of wishes for my retreat and life, and in fact I had so
many wishes that I had to have a second turn at the rock. We all wished on it and then
Michal threw it into the sea. Right as she did a spray of water jetted up and splooshed
us and we knew all our wishes would be granted. Hoorah!
What does a m.p.i.h.p.r look like? (you might ask) I meditate for a moment every
morning and every night. I go to a longer meditation once a week with my man Nate,
which I do anyway, but also doing more personal practice. I'm just making every day
it's own special thing. Plus...now that I work at home I can stop and take little
meditation breaks when I need to and I'm here most of the time anyway.
I'm a little loosey-goosey with the "indulging in intoxicants" part of the refuge vow,
but I'm tightening that ship up for the month of April, which means no late night trips
to Wong's for late night company and a Budweiser. Only wicked late night blogging!
Yes, that's right, it means my only drugs are tortellini at Santorini Pizza & Pasta and
M.F.K. Fisher.
tortellini
For some reason it seems like tortellini is served with a cream sauce almost
exclusively. I'm not a big fan of cream sauce, but I sure am a big fan of tortellini.
For those who don't know what tortellini is, it's sort of like a cross between ravioli
and a wonton. Only filled with cheese, or preferably, meat.
The Russians make something almost exactly the same, but their versions are usually
meatier and they serve them with sour cream and some kind of garlicky Russian salsa,
which I also love.
I always ask for tortellini with meat sauce instead, and sometimes that makes Italian
waitresses give me frosty looks for being such a philistine. I do not care. Those
snotty beetches can bring me some meat sauce and be swift about it!
But at the closest little Italian (Greek, really I guess) joint to my house do they
give me frosty looks? No! The first time I ordered it, the waitress asked me, "You
mean...still baked though?"
I said, "Umm sure."
Little did I know what delight would be unleashed on me in the form of a little tureen
filled with tortellini in meat sauce and what can only be a genuine Isle of Santorini kinda thing
(only not with meat sauce) covered with a thick layer of cheese and baked until it is
bubbly and so hot it stays hot almost the whole time I'm eating it!
I thought tonight, as I read M.F.K. Fisher, a person who writes about food, that it was
one of the finest meals a Daniel Talsky can be served. I tucked it away quite tidily
and waddled home.
M.F.K. Fisher
I never knew about M.F.K.
Fisher until the Angry
Librarian put it in my hand. She wrote about life and love and food before such
a thing was bestseller material...way back in the late 1930's!
It's wonderful stuff and makes me feel like I found a kindred spirit when she says
things like,
I was basically what Beerbohm calls, somewhat scornfully, a 'host' and not a
'guest': I loved to entertain people and dominate them with my generousity.
or
In spite of all that, I was the one who got dinner on the cook's off-night. I
improved, there is no doubt about it, and it was taken for granted that I would step
into the kitchen at the drop of a hat.
Perhaps Anne would have liked the chance at having all the family's attention. If
so, she never got it. The stoves, the bins, the cupboards, I had learned forever,
make an inviolable throne room. From there I ruled; temporarily I controlled. I felt
powerful, and I loved that feeling.
I am more modest now, but I still think that one the pleasantist of all emotions is
to know that I, I with my brain and my hands, have nourished my beloved few, that I
have concocted a stew or a story, a rarity or a plain dish, to sustain them truly
against the hungers of the world.
Then there's all the ways she talks about the amazing food itself. Bless her. I was
high on Fisher and pasta when I finally stood, 8 minutes past closing time, and said
goodbye to Gino on the way out.
Some of you may recall the original story where I told about how I met Gino, and
offered to do the Santorini web site for free, just so I could look on the web to
see their pizza toppings, and got turned down. Or the story about how a friend of
theirs found my blog entry about it and told Gino's son George who contacted me and
said they wanted me to do their web site after all.
So as I was walking out, I tipped my cap to Gino, who said in his somewhat broken
English, "We get a lot of compliments!"
"On the site?" I said, feeling happy and high.
"Yes. That must mean it's good."
I raised an eyebrow, "You've never seen it?" (It's been up for almost a year now.)
"No. To this day I have not ever seen it."
I could not help but burst out laughing, "That is awesome, Gino...that is so cool!"
"I don't even know how to work those things."