made my first batch of pasta fagioli, (or pastafazool for the readers who learned their italian on the sopranos), last night and it’s already gone. it’ll be on the menu for the winter. it’s a MEAL and good for you. it’ll be served with meat or with spinach or escarole and a hunk of bread. peasant food.
i’ll be making more tomorrow, just in case you’re a fan. i know of at least three.
there’s a million ways to make this stuff, but i like mine the best. flexing my cooking muscles, i realized that i still got it. i used to have dinner parties, back in the (my”the”) day.
it was part of the science of youth, romance, culture and art; the things that beget scenes and happenings. things and people fade…life goes on….someone just taught me that these secondary, structural writing accents “…,” are known as ellipses. either i forgot or never knew, i can’t remember which and there’s the rub. thanks, k.
remaining in the current vein is an extraordinary blessing, but it’s different for me now. i noticed it last night when Paul Pinto (he of ThingNY among other brilliances) – btw/happy birthday and congratulations, Paul – filled the room with talent and i witnessed one audial or visual amazingness after another. but then again, i’m easy to impress. i’m a fan. i think it’s all extraordinary. i have my own cynical radar and most of what i see and experience flies right by it. this is probably because i am a fan and not part of the mix. i sure hope i’m saying it right. whatever.
after a day of chores and needs-to-do downstairs, i’m listening to coleman hawkins on wkcr. apparently, it’s his birthday. which reminds me – there’s a jazz troupe using the GBM stage right around now (six-ish) and will be playing till they don’t want to play any more, or ten pm, whichever comes first, which brings this to mind;
i just found out that in the mind of some people, we’re not “of the scene”, whatever that “scene” is. a group of musicians notified me two days ago that they were offered to play somewhere else that, i guess, was more important or more like-minded to them than this place is. they told me that they hope to play here at a later date.
i don’t think that will happen. as a matter of fact, i can guarantee it.
if i didn’t pass your coolness-scene-eree once, i dare not risk it again. the first cut is the deepest, pookie.
when you cancel because of greener pastures, my night is compromised, especially a weekend night. you might forget with a venue as opposed to a DIY space, i have state-mandated issues to address on a daily basis. things like insurance, licenses, taxes…you know, that kind of stuff. add into this soup that i have an open-booking policy – that i offer a place to build, develop and nurture someone’s vision and “following” – well, when you get so cavalier about commitments, one can’t help but think it’s pretty, how do you say?…..FUCKED
but no matter – it’s part of the gig, right?
and what the title of this blogerooo is about –
i’ve whipped together our less-than-our-cider-famous mulled wine – it’s perfect for this weather. it’s got fruit rinds, cloves, a touch of honey, good wine and other grapes of heavenly variety.