Gaper's Blog

The Food Manifesto

I can't recall exactly when it happened but early on in our relationship, Carla noted that I was a picky eater.  I am a picky eater, I'll admit that freely but I wasn't as finicky as she made me out to be, so in order to dispel some of that I wrote my 'food manifesto' which was done with tongue placed firmly in cheek. Now all the information contained in this manifesto is accurate to my particular tastes but was also meant to be light-hearted and (hopefully) funny.  A few people have asked about it over the years as it comes up in conversation from time to time.  Here it is, enjoy:

Beef: It's difficult to make something with beef I don't like but boiling it won't help and tartare is a no-no. I like my steaks medium at the very least and medium-well if possible. We'll cover this in cold-cuts later on, but I don't like bologna as it looks too much like human skin. I do like veal sparingly and it has to be tender, tough veal is disgusting, it's like beef taffy.  Beef has to be beef though, I don't like anything that has a beef prefix, ie: beef tongue, beef tripe, beef brain, beef liver.  Gimme ground sirloin, steak or prime rib.

Chicken:  I've never been a fan of chicken on the bone but will eat it if there's nothing else around.  Otherwise, the more abstract the chicken, the better, no skin if possible.  By abstract, I mean if a receipe calls for a chicken breast, cubed or diced is better than the whole breast, even if it is boneless.  I see chicken like tofu, a great vessel for flavor and the more flavor the better.  Some people could eat a poached chicken breast and enjoy it, I am not one of those people, gimme some flavor with my chicken.  I don't like chicken salad. Like any five-year old, I like chicken nuggets. I also enjoy Buffalo wings occasionally but strongly prefer the boneless variety.

Pork:  As with beef, there's not a whole lot in the pork family I don't enjoy.  Bacon, yes but not Canadian and not on pizza. Pork chops are great but like chicken, pork is a great jumping off point for flavor and plain old pork chops without any seaoning can be boring.  Beaded pork chops are always good but boneless are the way to go here and always trim as much fat as possible before cooking. Bacon needs to be bacon, turkey bacon tries but isn't pork bacon and should stop trying to be pork bacon.  Most sausage is tasty, both links and patties but no scrapple (look it up) and no blood sausage or other non-standard sausage.  Ham is alright but my least preferred form of pig. If someone makes a nice Easter ham or a honey-baked ham for a special occasion, I will eat it with glee but it's nothing I would willingly order in a restaurant.  Ditto sliced deli ham but we'll cover that in cold cuts later on, cold cuts get their own category. As with beef, pig parts are unacceptable (I know, that's what sausage is) but I don't like pig's feet, pig's whatever really.

Seafood:  Contrary to popular opnion, I do like some seafood. Crab is king, gimme cakes, legs, it's tough to find anything crab related I don't like. Lobster: see crab.  I do like fillets of most fresh water fish: trout, bass, northern, crappie as well as most of your garden variety ocean fish like mahi mahi, swordfish and things like that.  I love catfish but only farm-raised, wild catfish are too dirty for human consumption. The place where it gets tricky with seafood are bivalves, no bivalves (ie: clams, oysters, mussels) with exceptions being the occasional scallop (lots of butter) and clam chowder.  Not a huge fan of squid or octopus (calamari) it's always been to chewy for me.  Tuna's is a no go. We've seen that I'll tolerate sushi but only in very rare instances.  The more exotic the seafood, the less likely I am willing to try it.  I have tried conch and shark but didn't care for either. The bottom line with all fish-related food is again, the less it looks like fish the better, no skin, no bones and most definitely no scales or heads. Borderline fish stuff like frogs are a no go. And we all know shirmp is out.

Cold cuts:  The good: salami, turkey, corned beef, pastrami, capicola, chicken and pork roll, roast beef. The bad: bologna, ham (but accpetable if nothing else is available) mortadella, head cheese, liverwurst, liver sausage (anything liver-related, really).

Bread: I do still love white bread but know it's worthless nutritionally. Variants of white bread I do eat: Italian bread, French bread, Sourdough, Kaiser rolls.  I love rye and like pumpernickel.  Wheat bread is totally acceptable but the more nuts/grains the better.  I like bagels but only poppyseed, salt and onion varities, I hate raisin and cinnamon bagels.

Rice: I like all kinds of rice but my favorite is white rice.  Brown and wild are fine.

Pasta:  I haven't met a pasta I don't like

Vegetables:  Here's the big one. Asparagus is king, I could eat steamed asparagus every meal for the rest of my life, if you could find an all asparagus diet, you might be onto something. I love broccoli but prefer if cooked (steamed), cauiflower used to be off limits but I'm starting to tolerate it with broccoli and other veggies (cooked though). All lettuce is fine, I really like romaine; Caesar salads.  Carrots must be raw (baby carrots, shredded carrots) with the only notable exception(s) in stew or soup.  All sprouts are yummy.  Cucumbers are alright sliced or as a garnish in water. Zuchinni  (unless in a bread) is a no-no.  Same thing with squash of any kind (including and especially pumkins).  Potatoes are delicious (except in salad form) but only regular potatoes, not sweet potatoes, yams or turnips.Tomatoes are a tricky item.  Any bigger than diced for bruschetta or salsa is unacceptable.  Most any form of pureed tomato is fine: paste, juice, sauce etcetera.  I like green beans but other types of beans less so.  While I like kidney beans and tolerate lima beans, wax beans are gross. Three bean salad is a no-go. Corn is good but not creamed.  Peppers are okay as a spice but not diced or chopped. I do like spinach. Peas are okay.  Avocados are good in guacamole but that's it. Onions are fine if they're minced or finely diced but not any bigger than the onions on an onion bagel. I hate radishes but love red cabbage(raw).  Any other veggies, just ask.

Fruits (in order of adoration): Fresh pineapple, bananas, strawberries, melon, cantaloupe, barlett pears, peaches, (pitted) cherries, some apples (too many varieties to list), kiwi, seedless grapes (sparingly), mandarin oranges, the occasional grapefruit or orange. Lemons and limes as garnish. 

Fruits I don't like:  Rasberries, blackberries, apricots, plums, blueberries, cranberries (juice is okay).  

Eggs:  I like 'em scrambled. Period. No over-easy, fried, sunnyside up, poached or anything but scrambled.  Hard-boiled are okay.

Cheese: It's probably easier to list the cheese I dislike:  Swiss, Bleu (except in salads, sparingly), most really stinky cheese, cottage.

Nuts: again easier to point out my nutty dislikes: Brazil, kumquats.

Pie dislikes: Rhubarb, pumpkin, mincemeat.

I don't like custard or vanilla pudding.  No skim milk but 1% is totally fine.

We can add/subtract to this but it's a good start.

Crucial Music (Volume XVI: The Bolshoi)

I'll admit it, I knew nothing of the Russian Bolshoi Ballet Company prior to hearing of the British band The Bolshoi.  I also didn't know there was a Memphis, Egypt until I heard The Mekons' song either, amazing what you can learn from rock and roll.  The Bolshoi (band) were a minor sensation at our high school radio station and especially big in my immediate group of friends.  In the mid 1980's few labels were hotter than I.R.S. Records as it was home to R.E.M.  The Bolshoi's debut Friends was on I.R.S. Records and that was the only thing we needed to know. 

Of course not everything on I.R.S. was 'gold' but it was enough of a signifier of quality to us and The Bolshoi had the chops to back up their label's prestige.  The opening track "Away" had a cooly sinister guitar line and a great chorus.  The video was also cool and this was when MTV actually played videos, so you could see the menacing Trevor Tanner often on 120 Minutes. I'm not sure why but the video version omitted the verse about having a baby and it being painful yet, worth it. Being young, thin, sarcastic teenagers, we were also drawn to "Fat And Jealous".  A friend of mine used to be in a band called Sunday Morning Chameleon, the name referred to those people who led less than vituous lives but put on their best clothes and faked it for morning mass. Twenty plus years prior, The Bolshoi were mining similar territory in "Sunday Morning".  I seem to recall my band in high school covering (or attempting to) this song, or maybe we just borrowed portions of it for one of our own songs.  I remember being underwhelmed by the follow up and the group split up not long after that.  A quick check found that lead singer/guitarist Trevor Tanner still records and performs these days, which is cool but a full Bolshoi reunion would be cool to see.  Hell, they could tour with Gene Loves Jezebel do a string of dates here in the States.

If I can find the time, you might get a regular post early next week but no Crucial Music due to the food holiday, break out your eating pants.  Have a great weekend, enjoy the music.

Crucial Music (Volume XV: Devo)

One man's One Hit Wonder is another's Career Artist.  Many bands I've covered here on this blog (Simple Minds, Madness) could be considered One Hit Wonders despite long, successful careers without more than one Top 40 hit.  Enter Devo.  If you said Devo to a casual music fan, they'd likely be able to recall their 1980 hit "Whip It"  (here's a rare, killer Remix of it) and not much else, maybe some would remember their near complete deconstruction of "Satisfaction".  That's a shame because while certainly quirky, Devo made some really compelling music over the years. If you have smaller children, it's nearly impossible for them to have escaped the musical genius of Devo frontman Mark Mothersbaugh, to say nothing of his work on conventional films and television.

One of the greatest musical ideas to have blossomed in the past decade or so is the All Tomorrow's Parties series of performance in which a legendary band performs an iconic album live, in its entirety.  A recent performance of Devo's first two records inspired their current tour in which the band performs those two records live over two nights. I was fortunate enough to have seen them perform their highly acclaimed Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!album, front to back Thursday night at the Vic Theatre.  Certainly everyone has their favorites and I was most excited to see them perform "Gut Feeling", a song I first became familiar with covering it in my first band in high school.  Of course, those who show up for night two (tonight as of this writing) will see the Freedom of Choice record performed, containing "Whip It" but I stand by my decision to see their debut, a better collection of material.  However, if I were to choose an album that would place a close second to Q:A:, it would be New Traditionalists featuring, among many greats: "Jerkin' Back 'n' Forth".

Funny story: A friend of ours came to visit a few years ago and as we were driving in town, she said: "That's so cool, you have a street named after Devo here."  We almost didn't have the heart to tell her the street is actually called Deyo, having a Devo street would be so cool.

Have a great Friday the 13th and a good weekend. Enjoy the music.

Guys and Dolls

After living within walking distance of the place for four years, Carla and I finally became Brookfield Zoo Members, thanks to an anniversary gift from my parents.  Believe it or not, we'd only been once in the past four years and now since our membership began, we've already been twice. 

Last Sunday, after a nice brunch with friends and after I'd determined the Bears were a lost cause, we went to the zoo.  While it was our second visit, we'd forgotten our camera the first time, so it was Abby's first visit that we could document.  We got some nice shots on the carousel until that dreaded 'Low Battery' light came on.  I stowed the camera away to save those last dying volts in case we saw something extraordinary to photograph.  We did end up seeing something extraordinary, however, it had nothing to do with Abby.

We stopped by the rhino exhibit on our way to the exit.  As we approached, there was a guy there with a camcorder and a wheelchair-bound companion, he was explaining rhino behaivior to anyone who'd listen.  At first I thought maybe he was a helpful volunteer or employee, but once I noticed his civilian clothes, I determined he was merely a visitor.  I then noticed that his female companion wasn't moving much and that her skin tone was on the very pale side.  A closer look determined that his 'friend' was not human but either a mannequin or quite possibly a 'real doll' the likes of which I'd heard about but had never seen in the wild.  I quietly handed Carla the camera and instructed her to try a grab a shot or two with whatever juice remained in the digital camera's battery.  At one point he looked directly at the camera, so Carla quickly moved to grab a shot of the rhino.  She did eventually manage to get a distant shot of the man and his companion.

I don't know exactly what it was we saw and we didn't stick around long enough to make new friends but we did notice that this gentleman was kind enough to buy his gal a stuffed giraffe.  I challenge you to provide evidence of a more bizarre Sunday afternoon than the one we had.

Crucial Music (Volume XIV: Sunny Day Real Estate)

Have you ever looked at all the different genres on iTunes?  It's ridiculous. I mean, way back when they were doling out titles the first few genre names were good: Rock and Roll (a euphemism for sex) was cool, Jazz had a nice onomatopoeic vibe and the Blues suited the material perfectly.  Even Folk was a decent moniker for that genre.  So you can imagine my surprise when circa 1993-94 I read an article about Emo, the 'new' genre spearheaded by bands like Promise Ring, Jimmy Eat World and Sunny Day Real Estate.  The description of Emo made it sound just like a retread of the Cure, Depeche Mode and a handful of other 1980s bands who wrote emotional music with very little levity.  While I wasn't buying the genre name, I certainly liked what I heard from the bands within the genre. 

The clincher for me was seeing the album artwork for Sunny Day Real Estate's Diary album: Fisher-Price 'Little People' engaged in a number of real-life scenarios, complicated by their lack of limbs.  I was actually expecting music that would be somewhat humorous, given the album art but they turned out to be kids in serious need of some hugs.  This was heady stuff but it was played with such precision and conviction that you forgave the overly seriousness nature of it.  One listen to a track like "7" and I was hooked, overly serious or not, these guys had chops.  Coincidence or not, I gravitated to the SDRE songs with numbers for names as "47" became another favorite.  With no band photos, cryptic song titles and this being the pre-Internet era, it was difficult to find out much about the band.  They killed it live though as a Mid 90s Metro show proved. And where the first album was a bit confusing with the contrast of the album art and the music itself, the second album, alternately known as LP2 or The Pink Album was quite simple, a pink cover and nine taut songs.  And whaddya know, I was drawn to another 'numbered' song: "8" which had been previously released on the Batman Forever Soundtrack.

The band broke up not long after LP2 came out and 3/4 of the core band (minus lead singer Jeremy Enigk, who was born again) joined Dave Grohl's first post-Nirvana band, Foo Fighters. It wasn't until Sup Pop re-released the first two albums in 2009 that the entire core quartet reunited and toured.  And with those re-releases came remastering and considerable annotation, finally.

Have a great weekend, enjoy the music.

Meet the New Boss, Same As the Old Boss

Did you see the Ricketts press conference last Friday?  The family who took over ownership of The Chicago Cubs from the beleaguered Tribune Company?  It was so cute, they actually promised that they were going to win the World Series, it's their "#1 Goal".  After that what, repeal gravity? Get the sun to rise in the west? Like I said, it was cute. No word or whether or not Sisyphus called to offer his support.  C'mon!  Do they really think they somehow have the magic formula for overcoming a century plus one year of futility?  I guess because Tom Ricketts met his wife in the Bleachers of Wrigley, he thinks that somehow gives him magic powers to erase all that pain?  Nope.  

Right now they're in that blissful stage.  You know that feeling when the Lotto Jackpot goes up to like $100 Million and you decide to buy a few tickets because, of course, this time you're going to win?  It's like that. You buy the tickets and the whole way home, you fantasize about how you'd opt for the lump-sum payment and all the fun, cool things you'd do when you win?  "We're going to build a triangle shaped building between the west side of the park and Clark Street, we're going to reinvest the profits into the team."  Stuff like that.  I don't doubt that they'll put money into the operation and make things better and I believe they'll get that Triangle Building done, soon.  But all the amenities in the world don't make a team win a World Series.  All the money in the world (and the Ricketts family have a decent portion of it) doesn't buy World Series Championships.  Of course they're on the verge of proving me a bit wrong this year but look at all the failed bids the Yankees made for October glory in the last decade, and they're The Yankees, fer Pete's sake, they've been there before, 26 times.  That phrase, "Act like you've been there before", well the Yankees have, the Cubs haven't in a long, long time.  Every time the Cubs have glimpsed the possibility of World Series play, they suddenly remember they're the Cubs and collapse accordingly.  

I'm a diehard Cubs fan and will be until the day I die but like a lot people like me, I truly believe that the Cubs will never reach the promised land.  And in that bizarro world Cubs fan existence, that's strangely alright with me, don't ask me why.  Any other way would tear a hole in the time/space continuum. I think the sooner the Ricketts understand that, the better off they'll be.  Good luck to them and may God bless the Cubs.

The Tenth Anniversary of a Really Bad Decision

Five years ago, I wrote about the worst Halloween costume decision I ever made, which was ten years ago.  When I initially wrote about it, I literally had five regular readers of my blog and despite it being a funny story (or so I thought) it netted zero comments.  Perhaps some of you happened upon the original post but since it was so long ago and I couldn't resist the round numbers and an anniversary, I figured why not re-post it.  And no, it's not that I'm too lazy to write a Crucial Music Post, if there's enough interest, I'll write about what I had planned to before I remembered this classic post and post it over the weekend sometime.

I once held a Halloween Party when I was living in Wicker Park in the mid-90's, I hosted the party as the Unibomber.  Then I realized that hosting is a pain; attending is much easier, just dress up and show up. Our friend Mindy used to have this huge, amazing Halloween Party every year. Costumes were mandatory, as were shots of Halloween themed liquor upon entering her house.  Shortly after Carla and I started dating (1999) we attended our first Mindy Halloween Party together. I had recently seen Blue Man Group for the second time and was determined to be a Blue Man for Halloween. I was living near Fantasy Costumes at the time and decided it would be fun to be a Blue Man.  I had a license to get blue and get loaded. While the fine folks at Fantasy provided me with the necessary Cobalt Blue make-up and skull cap, they failed to tell me that the Blue Men have a professional makeup department at their disposal and the Blue Men know what it's like to wear shiny, blue make-up every night. I was simply blue and on my way to inibriation. Bad move. 

Wearing heavy blue make-up while wearing black clothing proved to be enough of a hassle, let alone having to itch every so often. Within an hour, not only were my face and head blue, but so was most of the rest of me.  Every minor itch resulted in my transferring the blue make-up to other parts of my body I shouldn't have blue make-up. After a few hours, we went home.  Not wanting to turn her entire apartment blue, Carla had no other choice than to throw me into the shower to clean up. It was like Karen Silkwood, post-contamination. I had to scrub down like I was covered with gamma-radiation. I eventually got somewhat clean and slept it off.

So, if you had entertained thoughts of getting blue someday, don't. What was the worst (or best) Halloween costume you ever wore?  Happy Halloween everybody!

Abigail Update

I was bluntly reminded by a friend that not everyone is on Facebook, therefore while Abby is Facebook-famous, she's long overdue for an update here.  

Abigail just turned seven months old on Saturday.  And you'd think that some of the bloom would be off the rose by now and that we would've settled into a mildly jaded parental state.  Not so.  I'm consistently amazed at how delightful being a parent is and how great it is to have Abby in our lives.  Like so many things in life, you always hear from other people how great _____ is and how much you'll love _____.  Until it happens, you can't quite wrap your head around what it's like.  The funniest part for me (and Carla, honestly) is that neither of us were 'baby people'.  Sure, we'd hold other people's children and enjoy that but we weren't baby crazy and yet once it happened we became those people.  We are the walking cliches of doting parents.

Since Mid-May, I have been Abby's primary caregiver two full days and three half days a week.  My parents have been wonderful in pitching in on those half days when I'm coming off an overnight and need a few hours of sleep and they'd be the first to admit it's a joy for them to get to spend quality time with their first grandchild.

At the seven month mark, Abby is now sleeping through the night very consistently.  She's been  Weisbluthed/Ferberized for the most part.  Those 10-12 minutes in which you have to let your child 'cry it out' are arduous but necessary and as the book says and everyone tells you, 'she'll never remember it'.  It's true, she always wakes up smiling.  Abby's also begun taking baby food twice a day, which has replaced one of her milk feedings.  Unlike her dad, she seems to love squash and sweet potatoes.  While she's not crawling yet, she is quite the adroit roller.  No intelligible speech yet but it doesn't stop her from talking a blue streak when the mood strikes; it makes sense to her, I just wish we had the baby translator Danny DiVito's Uncle Herb character invented on that Simpsons episode.  Naps have dwindled from three to two but she's remarkably consistent with those, which gives me time to either nap along or get stuff done. She's already experienced quite a bit as a seven month old, some bullet points.

• She's been to her first Cubs game, they lost, which seems about right
• Given all her gear, she's apparently a Packers fan, though--like her mom--she probably couldn't name three current Packers. 
• She made her maiden trip to the Brookfield Zoo last weekend.
• She's already been up to Mercer twice and Green Bay half a dozen times.  
• Technically, her first 'rock' show was Emmylou Harris at Ravinia but we could only stay for a few songs, so her first proper show has yet to happen. 

So, that's a thumbnail sketch of our little girl, who we've nicknamed "Pickle", which just so happens to be what she'll be for her first Halloween this weekend, thanks to the sewing of her grandma and her mom. A full photo album 'Abby' was just added, below left.

Crucial Music (Volume XIII: The Feelies)

I was a latecomer to the Feelies.  I was totally unaware of their first album when I got  introduced to their second record The Good Earth in 1986.  And to discover them that way is like walking into a movie a half hour into it; you can probably put it all together but you're better off sticking around for the next screening so you see the beginning and it all makes sense.  Sometime in college, I finally got around to buying their debut: Crazy Rhythms.  Now it wasn't a total game changer for me but it did set up the context of the band a little better.  It's tough to single out one song as emblematic of the whole record but "Moscow Nights" has always been a favorite.

I tell you though, hearing The Good Earth for the first few times was a sublime experience.  While they certainly weren't a punk band, what they did was so simple, it seemed like punk rock: three or four chords max per song.  Chords that any beginning guitarist (including me) knew: G, A, D, E and maybe a B or F here and there.  That was it.  Oh, and drummer Stanley Demeski was a metronome of a drummer. It was so simple, you wanted to kick yourself for not thinking of it yourself.  I still rank The Good Earth among my top albums of all time.  Not a single filler song on it.  The best of the lot: "Slipping (Into Something)" a slow build into total mayhem, on second thought, maybe this is is punk rock, with a country edge.  I had the pleasure of seeing The Feelies on that tour at the old Sue Miller-booked Cubby Bear (we even made fake IDs for the occasion) and that show ranks among my favorites of all time as well.

The band then signed with A&M.  I don't know if the label expected the sort of record sales some the Feelies' peers were racking up but the band delivered two decent albums for them before splitting up. The first of those two records, Only Life, featured a great title track "It's Only Life" and a cover of The Velvet Underground's "What Goes On".  After the split, all the members continued on in musical projects of varying profiles, most notably Stanley Demeski joining Luna. 

With occasional gigs at their home base Maxwell's in Hoboken on national holidays over the years, the band did a series of one-off shows in the past year.  One of those shows was at Chicago's Pritzker Pavillion in Millenium Park in June, a show I regrettably couldn't attend.  The logistics of parenthood interferes with fun sometimes.  I heard nothing but great reviews of the show.  Who knows, maybe the reunion will 'stick' and we could see them come back someday.

Have a great weekend, enjoy the music.

"Hey Big Guy!"

Full disclosure: I'm not a thin man, haven't been since college at least, some would even say high school.  While it's certainly not something I'm proud of, I do make an effort to get thinner and as a result, I suppose I can be mildly sensitive about my girth. Mildly.  If someone I know makes a light-hearted crack about it, I usually joke along and even sometimes lead with a self-effacing weight joke if the situation merits it.  That said, I also believe in highlighting people's better qualities when addressing them, it's just good form.   If say I was tending bar and a female patron was attempting to buy a drink, I might say, "Hey blue eyes, what can I get you?"  Nothing troublesome or sexist, just a pleasant salutation, that's just good marketing.

Last week I was waiting at the box office/will-call window at The Vic Theatre before the Dinosaur Jr. show.  I was second in line behind a woman who took a long time to complete her transaction and while I was in line an ostensibly homeless man who kept repeating, loudly, "Hey Big Guy! Hey Big Guy! Need a ticket?"  Now, like I admitted earlier, I am big but if someone chooses to address me in that manner, I ignore them, which I did with this guy.  I doubt he'd enjoy it if I said, "No, homeless man, I already have a ticket." or "I'm good, smells-like-beer-and-urine." You don't even have to be complimentary, a simple: dude, man, chief, bro, captain or sir would suffice.  But no, this man persisted with 'Big Guy', again and again.  Not even an "Excuse me", just "Big Guy! Big Guy! Need a ticket?"  After he repeated his mantra for about the tenth time, I said, "No, persistent, gap-toothed man, my ticket is waiting at the window."  He slunked away and I never saw him again.  I could've gone a lot more negative in my response but 'gap-toothed' seemed about as gut-level superifical as 'Big Guy', not an insult, an observation (think a Michael Strahan-sized gap between teeth) and it worked as he split. 

So what's the worst thing you've been called on the street?  What's the worst thing you've called someone? What's an acceptable 'pet name' for a stranger to call you?