Word of Mouth

1:11:27 PM EDT

Do know how to dine well.  Michelle (a friend of nearly 40 years) flew in from Paris yesterday for a visit.  Thoughtfully, she brought the menu for Business.  Air France 072 departed Paris at 1:15 p.m. and shortly thereafter the food started to arrive. (She landed at LAX at 5:45 p.m.)

Hors d'Oeuvres  Duck foie gras terrine and green tomato chutney OR a grilled vegetable tart with sun-dried tomatoes and pinon vinaigrette and arugula.

Main Course  Filet of beef with buttered green beans, dauphinoise potatoes au gratin OR fillet of pollack complimented by anchovy caper vinaigrette, Basmati rice and crisp garden vegetables and the blue plate special, if you didn't like either of the above was fillet of chicken with roquefort cheese sauce, cumin mashed potatoes and vegetables sauteed in sesame oil.

Then the cheese course - Camembert, Fourme d'Ambert, Saite-Maure 

Dessert?  Dark chocolate dessert, caramel pear puff pastry, sherbert with cookies, choice of fresh fruit. 

If you felt a bit peckish later on, the bar (!) had a buffet of sandwiches, miniature pastries, basket of fruit and Hagen-Daz ice cream. 

Just before arrival -- God forbid anyone should get off the plane still hungry -- came Swiss air-dried beef and pineapple fennel salad; choice of leg of lamb and Provencale-style tomatoes and sauteed potatoes OR brasied endive a l'orange served with rataouille.  Dessert?  Baked caramel apple and raspberry coulis. 

The wines?  Duval-Leroy Fleur de Champagne Premier Cru (champagne)

Maconnais Saint-Veran 2006 Joseph Drouhin - white burgundy;

Cotes du Rhone Villages Cairanne Peyre Blanche 2005 (Red Rhone Valley)

Saint-Esteph Chateau Le Crock (not mispelled) 2004 Cru Bourgeois (red Bordeaux.) 

I noticed that some of the passengers coming out of Customs had a strangely dispeptic look ... Americans, probably.  The French know how to pace themselves.

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5:02:57 PM EDT

This is the post office parking lot; that's what I tripped over and this is how they are warning others.

Since old writers (that would be me) are rarely found doing daring water rescues, scaling burning buildings or ... well, anything strenuous at all, having generated this great big warning-off is a source of quiet pride to me.  Drive by this lot, blink and you'll miss it but you will sure as hell see it if you drive into the lot.  Uncle Sam, I stepped up and did my part!  (So where's my medal ...?)

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1:42:18 PM EDT

(New to me at any rate.)  Yesterday the mailman left Murf Ink (my California dba) a copy of "Cook's Illustrated."  The masthead lists Christopher Kimball as founder and editor and he proudly insists "No advertising!"  The cover, a tasteful painting of oranges in a blue bowl lists articles on:   Juicy Pork Chops - Start with a cold pan!  Rating Baking Pans -- The $9 pan beats $95 model!  and Tasting Dijon Mustards - Check the expiration date!

The editorial offices are located at 17 Station Street, Brookline, MA, but Kimball in his editorial writes that he lives in a small town in Vermont.

The typeset is plain, there are a few b/w photographs, but there are a lot of hand-drawn illustrations including a two page spread on a guide to buying fresh pork. (Not recommended for vegetarians.)   "Notes From Readers" are replies to subscriber's questions such as "Are shallots worth the expense?"  Ans.  Yes.

Quick Tips has, as one might expect, some simplistic solutions to non-pressing problems -- a grandfather uses his pizza cutter to quickly slice up waffles and pancakes for hungry grandkids; using coffee filters to make a cup of tea (which is much more expensive that buying tea bags) and cleaning mushrooms with a soft toothbrush.

It's a well laid-out mag, informative in its way and probably worth the $20 a year subscription.  It should be noted that while there are no ads as such in it, there is a page called "Equipment Corner" where all sorts of products are "profiled."  Take a look for yourself at their Web page cooksillustrated.com

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2:19:05 PM EDT

Eggs Benedict are sometimes coyly called "Eggs Benny" on restaurant menus which is, of course, beyond ghastly, but there you are...

Classic Eggs Benedict has several variations and the October issue of Saveur was kind enough to take our hands and walk us through them.  If anything sounds good, whip it on up!

Eggs Chesapeake/Eggs Boston - replace the ham or bacon with a crab cake and add a slice of fried tomato.

I've never heard of "Eggs Provencale" here (US) or in France.  Thin slices of fried bread topped with poached eggs and a garlic-y, tomato-y sauce.  Other than French toast, the French aren't into frying bread and most likely not for breakfast.  This might be a lunch dish along with a small salad, if it exists at all in France.

New Orleans has two versions -- Eggs Hussarde:  rusks topped with slices of tomato and tasso ham, then sauce Marchand, then poached eggs and THEN Hollandaise sauce. (Paramedics optional.)  Eggs Sardou is a classic dish at Antoine's -- fill an artichoke bottom with creamed spinach, then poached eggs and, finally, Hollandaise sauce.

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2:15:50 PM EDT

We are all sadly aware of how government is handled in Washington, DC, so I won't dwell on that.

However, local government -- that of Redondo Beach -- is an entirely different story.  I vote, but have never contacted the City about anything.  To me, City Hall is a vaguely benign place that takes every other Friday off and that's all I have ever thought about it.

Then two incidents occurred.  The first was back in late April/early May.  A local high school boy around 8 p.m. decided to run across Aviation (a very busy street) rather than walking another half-block and crossing with the light.  Halfway across, he changed his mind, spun and ran back toward the curb and a motorcycle, making a legal left turn hit him and it killed him.

Instantly one of those dreadful roadside shrines sprang up -- quite possibly by the next morning.  Five long months later, this shrine was looking deplorable.  The "Honk 4 Jeff!" sign was faded and tattering; the many candles encased in glasses had leaves and trash around them.  Frankly, it was an abomination and I passed it on a daily basis.

I consulted our friend who is a former City clerk.  He didn't know the time limitation, but he was outraged about it and replied that if you put a shrine on private property, the property owner would rightfully have a fit, so what made people think they could leave shrines on public property?  He was really quite indignant about it.

So I went to the City Web page (Redondo.org) and found someone who might know.  In my e, I explained the situation and asked if there were limits?

Back came a courteous reply that the City hesitated to intrude on a family's grief immediately, but they would contact the family and ask delicately if they wanted to take it down or if they prefered the street cleaners to get rid of it?  He and I had a private moan about "People today!  Don't they know that the proper thing to do is write the family, attend the service or visit the graveyard?"

Three days later, the shrine looked much tidier. I'm so used to seeing it that I forgot to look this morning on the way to the gym, but I will and report back.

Then two days ago, we went to our main Post Office.  I got out, scanning the lot for traffic, didn't see an enormous bump that a nearby tree had raised in the asphalt parking lot, tripped on it and went SPLAT!  In descending order, my knees, palms and chin. To say the least, I was surprised.  Richie and two women got me back on my trembling pins.  I knew I'd be all right, but if it had been an older person, they could have been quite seriously hurt.  Let alone a kid running along full speed looking over his shoulder.

That afternoon I e'd the City's maintenance yard.  Back came the reply.  "So sorry to hear you fell - was it the Post Office lot or Catalina (the street next to it)?  "Parking lot" I replied and almost immediately I was told the post office would have to handle it -- their property -- "And here's the phone number for the Postmaster General there" Talk about going the extra step! 

Since I had scraped knees (a visual) I decided it was better to go over there.  Pulled on a pair of shorts and did.  A nice woman, the Safety Officer, came out and inspected the area.

She said, "Removing that tree has been on our wish list for the past three years..." which meant to me, "and we don't have the money and we aren't going to do anything now."  I suggested perhaps they could orange cone it off with yellow tape?  And she allowed as they could do that. (Which will be my second stop on my self-instigated civic projects tour today.)

The point I'd like to make is that city governments seem more prone to respond to a resident's requests than big goverment ever will.  The question is -- how can we make this happen on a national basis?  And I think I already know the answer...

All Redondo City names were withheld to protect them from more calls like mine!

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1:29:55 PM EDT

We have been using Silva Construction, Inc. for the past 23 years; obviously we're happy with their work.  They put out a newsletter that often has helpful hints on house or utility maintenance; how-to fix something and so forth.  The most recent issue had six solutions to common ailments and I thought they were hilarious so, unabashedly, I stole them.  Silva Construction, Inc.  25103 S. Vermont Avenue, Harbor City   310-626-6310  silvaconstruction.com

Headache:  Peel a one or two in. strip of lemon rind and rub the inside of the rind on your temples.  Stick the sliver to your forehead and shun company until your headache disappears.

Insomnia:  Cut a yellow onion in half and put it in a covered jar, next to your bed.  If you can't sleep, undo the lid, sniff the onion deeply; put the lid on, lie back down and think happy thoughts.  ("Thank God, the neighbors can't see this!"?) You should be asleep in about 15 minutes.

Leg cramps:  (I've actually heard of this before but it was for a headache!)  Pinch the area between your upperlip and nose (called the "philtrum") for a few seconds until the cramp disappears.

Hangover:  To ease the aches and pains, rub your armpits with a slice of lemon.

Hay Fever:  Chew a one in. piece of honeycomb for 10 minutes, making sure the honey is from your local area to make sure it contains the same pollens that are causing your symptoms. 

Colorful bruises:  Take a chilled bunch of fresh parsley, chop and crush it and then put it on the bruise.  Within 24 hours the color of the bruise should fade significantly.

Source:  Bottom Line Health (and Silva Construction.)

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2:04:12 PM EDT

Friday Evening -- the meet and greet at the Embassy Suites bar, the Plaza, is always a rugby scrum -- at the bar, at the table where you check in and get a name tag and the updated information book -- throughout the rather small room really.  It was hilarious to see a person approach, squint at one's name tag in the dim light and then bellow, "Nina!  I remember you!"

Generally speaking, conversation is light.  Phil Rollins (football star back in the day) slung an arm across my shoulder and bawled, "Nina!  Don't you remember me?"  and I paused, looked thoughtful and then murmured, "Yeah ... September 18th ... 50 yard line ... under the bleachers!" and the people around us roared with laughter.  Especially his wife (thankfully, because I was kidding.)

Saturday - The morning tour of our old high school was not an organized thing (such as a bus for everyone) due to insurance liability reasons.  The school is much older than our 50 years; I think it was a '30s WPA project; the architecture looks it.  But it does have something new -- an old classroom has been turned into an African museum with slave chains, fabric weaving examples, posters, books and a thatched hut (mini.) 

The lunch at a restaurant called (oddly) "First Watch" following the tour was a sea of wooden tables and chairs, line up in cafeteria formation and everyone was screaming and taking pictures.  I didn't review First Watch because it would not have been a flattering one.

The gala dinner took place from 6 p.m. to midnight.  We didn't last much past 11 p.m. and there were only about 10 people left even then.  The dinner was catered by Hereford House (normally a superb restaurant) and while their food is excellent in individual orders, when they had to come up with some 125 dinners, the quality just couldn't be the same.  A DJ played rock'n roll and the dance floor filled up.

Sunday - The picnic was probably the most relaxed and thus the most fun. Held in a shelter on a promontory overlooking Longview Lake on a beautiful day it was just The Best.  Casual clothes, easier mingling and tons of food (40 lbs. of barbecued brisket alone) and cold beer and soft drinks.

Once home, I took a look through the "year book" (up-dated addresses) and found some interesting statistics.  These are not exact, as not everyone responded to the call to provide information.  Our class numbered 239 seniors.  Of them:

Still married - 47     Married and divorced - 15   Divorced and remarried - 14 

Widowed - 10  Widowed and remarried - 2     Dead - 52

156 still live in Kansas City and nearby cities.  Missouri - 115; Kansas, 41; California, 12; Arizona, 11 and Texas 9.  One couple lives in San Miguel Allende, Mexico (present) one guy lives in Varanisi, Indai (present) and our exchange student from Finland lives in Tampere, Finland and didn't make it, but wrote a note to the class.

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1:19:37 PM EDT

Big John's Corner Bar, 213 W. Maple, Independence  816-461-9790

The previous day, we had breakfast at Dave's Bakery and Deli before touring the Truman House.  We had a good view of Big John's (across the street) where at 9 a.m. various young women came out of the bar, stood on the sidewalk, had a cigarette and then vanished back inside.  Richie said, with the satisfaction of a connoisseur of such establishments, "That's the floozie's bar" and after the Truman home tour, he wanted to go.  "Richie," I said, "I draw the line at drinking beer at 11 in the morning.  No."  He pouted.  But we didn't go.  Then.

However the next day, by the time we left Leila's Hair Museum, it was nearly 4 p.m. which is acceptable for a libation while on vacation.

As we approached the door, there were two women and two men outside smoking -- by the way, the clientele here is late '30s to early '50s -- who, when they saw we meant to come in, all yelled welcoming greetings and made way for us.

A longer than wider room with a bar down the left side and wall down the other, Big John's had red leatherette bar stools and various neon beer signs.  We ordered Bud drafts from the bar lady, who had a certain boisterous good humor about her. 

My frosted mug had a long, black hair lying just below the lip.  I shrugged and picked it off.  My second beer mug had a big, black fleck of "something" near the rim, so I thumbed that off.  I have never been in such a slipshod bar, but the reason dishwashing had clearly taken second place  became immediately clear.   As I listened to the conversation going on around me (and how could I not?  They were all yelling) it was clear that a troublemaker was being discussed with some agitation.

The gist seemed to be that the lady bartender (a term used advisedly) was complaining about Big John's daughter? wife? niece? who caused nothing but trouble every time she was behind the bar.  She wanted to inherit the place because "Little John, he don't want it."  (I wondered if Big John was on his deathbed?)  The man on my left (drinking shots with a beer back) nodded sympathetically and then with more pressing matters clearly on his mind, said, "Juanita, what drink you make costs $6?  'Cause I just paid my bar tab over to Smiley's and I'd done bought a woman there three of them.  She said she was dyin' of cancer and got all bawly; I figured it was the least I could do."  Juanita pondered, lips pursed and shrugged and said, "Depends on what's in 'em -- yer quality brands, yer ingredients."

A rather ragged-looking woman, looking older than she might be, walked in and sat down on Richie's other side.  Grinning, she said in a friendly way, "Well, hello there.  You havin' a good time?" and sipped at her beer.  She later turned to "a glass of water" most likely a giant shot of vodka.  She was affable as all hell; clearly a good-natured drunk.  She eventually wandered off as did we at the end of our second beers. 

It had been an interesting afternoon for anthropological studies.

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12:49:28 PM EDT

Leila's Hair Museum, 1333 S. Noland Rd, Independence, MO 816-833-2955  hairwork.com/Leila

When I read about this in the Things To See and Do brochure for Independence, I was immediately intrigued.  "The only museum of its kind in the world.  Displays, pictures and jewelry are made out of human hair."  We had seen a similar exhibit at the National Museum of Funeral History not far from Houston's International Airport.  Thus I knew this was a Victorian custom - saving some hair of the deceased and braiding it into bracelets, enclosing a lock in a brooch, but at Leila's we found that the practice was not limited to the dearly departed.

Leila's (pronounced "Lee-eye-lah's") is part of a beauty college and we entered the main door, past freshman students (who were finishing off their lunches, smoking and gossiping.)  We paid $2.50 each (seniors; regular rate is $5) and our tour director rose from her chair (after slipping her shoes back on, I think) and we set off. 

The Victorians were tremendously sentimental and terrified of sex -- piano legs wore skirts!  Young mothers would cut out magazine color illustrations of babies whose coloring matched their own child's, cut their off-spring's hair and insert it into the page so that a drawing suddenly had real hair.  Lovers would exchange jewelry make out of each other's hair.

One enormous project belonged to a family that began a family history in 1725 which continued to 1900 from hair samples matched to the individual's calling card.  When a pair of sisters entered a convent and were shaved bald, they took the discarded hair and made wreathes for their parents.  All in all there are over 300 hair wreathes and more than 2,000 pieces of hair jewelry in the museum.

There were more wreathes than anything else (the jewelry in the main being tiny) and most were in a horse-shoe shape -- so that subsequent generations could add their hair.

At one time, traveling salesmen would visit your home, offering a catalog of various styles.  You would choose one, hand over your hair and off it would go, to a factory and in due time your piece returned.

We had a very knowledgeable guide.  But it did mean standing for quite awhile.  After we expressed our gratitude, we repaired to Big John's Corner Bar for a much-needed beer.  I'll relate our adventures there tomorrow. Suffice to say it was quite a different crowd from wanna-be beauticians and a very nice guide. 

 

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1:49:56 PM EDT

You will note the use of singular tense ...

The reunion kicked off with a meet and greet in the bar of the Embassy Susites, the Plaza.  It made sense for Sue, Richie and self to have dinner first and nearby.  The Plaza was in the throes of an Art Fair with white tents lining Brush Creek, parked support vans, generators and so forth, so we decamped to next-door Westport, one of the older areas of the city.

After finally finding a parking place (Friday night happy hour) we settled on One 80, at the corner of Westport Road and Pennsylvania  816-389-4180 one80lounge.com

We were given a roomy, comfortable window booth and menus.  Drink orders were taken by a very friendly server.  There were a ton of interesting things to eat.  After much discussion (the drinks arrived before we could make a decision) we decided to start with an order of "Blind Dates" -- prosciutto-wrapped, roasted garlic and almond-stuffed dates in a port fig glaze.  $4.99

The menu lists nine flatbread pizzas and we ordered pepperoni, mozzarella, provolone, romesco sauce with oregano.  $9.99  It was a rectangle about 14 in. long by 10 in. wide and it was so good, we ordered a second one and devoured it, too.

We could have had a Seattle Salmon Burger - 5 oz.Atlantic salmon with red peppers, green onions, sesame, cilantro topped with radish sprouts and cucumber tatziki sauce. $10.99

Wrong time of day for us, but the brunch menu lists such as "Grand-Ma French Toast - Grand Marnier-infused French toast with toasted almonds, maple syrup and whipped raspberry mascarpone cheese.  $6.99  Or perhaps the One80 Benny - house-made, citrus-cured salmon, sliced tomato, Boursin cheese and lemon Hollandaise on toasted garlic bagels served with rustic Yukon Gold potatoes.  $9.95

There is a "Weekend Pajama Brunch" from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.  "Drunken Donuts" are tiny, powdered sugar donuts with Grand Marniere hot chocolate for dipping.  $4.99

The $8 Lunch Power Trio is a choice of soups (creamy artichoke bisque anyone?) or flatbreads or small salads (including Caesar or Chophouse) and half sandwiches - chicken Milanese, club, smoked turkey melt -- any two items for only $8.

Chef Sean Leventhal is clearly adventurous, has a very good sense of what goes with what even though the menu peruser might not think so at the time.  I like this kind of thinking because I like to graze and some of his dishes have all the grazing you could ever want -- on one plate.  This kind of eating encourages taking the time to appreciate the different flavors as they come together and for the tongue to search out more of them. 

Drinks, Blind Dates and two pepperoni flatbreads came to $43.02 before tip.  NOne of us walked away hungry either!

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