verbatim

Che!

We watched "The Motorcycle Diaries" last night. As a movie about two guys on a life-changing road trip, I really enjoyed it. I loved the pace, the scenery, the relationship between the two, really the whole story. (Oh, and I have a crush on Gael Garcia Bernal now.) But if it was meant to explain how Ernesto became Che, it failed. He was presented as far too sensitive and quiet and unassuming to have become the revolutionary leader he did. But, from what I've read, the movie was intended just to be faithful to the actual diaries he kept for those  months while on the motorcycle trip—no more and no less—and in that case, it was perfect. Apparently that road trip planted the seed for what he became, but we don't see that part.

If you rent this DVD, be sure to watch the interviews with the real Alberto Granado, who's still alive.

Wing It

Last night I made some very un-Buffalo-ish chicken wings. Julie kept saying she'd taste one, but she never did. She was weirded out about picking it up and biting into it, but she wouldn't eat the meat cut off the bone either. Stephanie felt the same way, although she did force herself to try it. She got grossed out every time she saw the chicken meat under the gooey brown skin. When I cut some pieces of meat off the bone and arranged them carefully on her plate so that no actual meat was showing out from under the skin, and when she picked up the pieces and closed her eyes and ate them, she said she liked the taste. But it was an ordeal for her. Then, miracle of miracles, Pete—who has hated every molecule of new food, particularly protein, that I've served him—liked them! He shocked me by picking them up and just gnawing on them! Granted, he didn't want to chew all the way down to the bone (he kept asking me questions that led me to believe he was afraid he'd accidentally swallow an entire chicken wing bone), but he did take a few bites and then move on to the next one. Today I ate the leftovers for lunch and wanted to kill myself later when he asked if there were any left for dinner! I won't have time to marinate any for him tomorrow, so I'm hoping he'll like the prepared ones from Whole Foods.

Here's what I did:

Cut 3 lbs. chicken wings into flats and drumettes (discard wing tips or save in the freezer for stock). Marinate them, refrigerated, for 8–24 hours in this mixture:

1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup honey
2 Tbsp canola oil
2 Tbs chili sauce
1 tsp salt
1/2 teaspoon dried ginger
1 garlic clove, pressed

Preheat oven to 325°. Line a baking pan with foil (I used Reynold's no-stick foil). Dump all the wings and marinade onto the foil. Bake for 1 hour, turning two or three times.

In Memory of a Great Memoirist

I just learned via Bookslut that Frank Conroy has died. If you've never read Stop Time, you need to do it now. It's the most remarkable memoir I've ever read. I first read it about 15 years ago, when Don Lee of Ploughshares told me about it, describing it, if I remember correctly, as "perfect." And that's saying a lot, because he was the most discriminating reader I've ever met. (I used to read unsolicited short story manuscripts for Ploughshares; I would reject about 90% of them and pass the rest along to Don. He always hated them. But one time he passed along to the guest editor a story I'd chosen, but he or she—can't even remember who it was now—then rejected it. Ah well.)

I also read and enjoyed Conroy's novel Body and Soul; the first half was mesmerizing but, as I recall, it fell apart after that. It's most definitely worth reading, though, particularly if you like music. (Conroy was also a jazz pianist.)

Chantico-Bound

I keep hearing about this sinfully delicious "drinking chocolate" from Starbucks. The review I read on McSweeney's today, however, has pushed me over the edge:

'Round these parts, we've just taken to calling it "Liquid Denzel."

I must have one, now.

Laid to Rest

Today is Karine's funeral; although, come to think of it, was might be more accurate, since noon in Oslo has long passed. Anyhow, in honor of my dear departed friend, I am wearing a red shirt today. Why? Because when Karine's cancer was first diagnosed, she went out and bought herself the most outrageous, fabulous, impractical red crushed-velvet coat. She called it her FY-coat, as in "Fuck you, cancer! I am not going to just keel over and die."

I can't stop thinking about her young son, just Stephanie's age, at his own mother's funeral.

Ray Charles Robinson

I'm trying to decide what I thought of "Ray." On the one hand, I loved it because I'm such a fan of Ray Charles's music, and it was fascinating to learn about his life (both personal and in the music business). On the other hand, it wasn't that great of a movie. I thought that most of the parts that dealt with his childhood were downright maudlin—I didn't even get teary-eyed, because it was so trite. And the heroin scenes, both the the flashbacks to his mother and brother and the detox scenes, were exactly like every other similar scene in every other movie. As for Jamie Foxx, he was really good, but was this an Oscar-winning performance or was it just a really good (and long) impersonation? Is every impressionist an actor, by definition? I don't know. Let's just say this: I definitely believed that he was Ray Charles at a few points, and I'm glad that he didn't try to do most of the singing (although some of his lip-synching was off, for which I blame the editor and director).

Open Letter to the Guy in the Parking Lot at Sunday School Yesterday

Dear Guy in the Parking Lot at Sunday School Yesterday,

For future reference: When you are walking with your children in a busy parking lot, it is your responsibility to make sure that you and they are safe. If you see that a car is about to back out of its spot (Hint: the white tail-lights go on!), you may hope that the driver sees you, but you should not assume it. If the person begins to back out even though you are near her car, you should in fact assume that she does not see you. When she begins to back out and stops suddenly because she sees you (perhaps you had been blocked from her vision by the car next to her), you should not stand about a foot away from her left front fender, because then she will not be able to cut the wheel to the right as she backs out. When you wave her on and give her an annoyed expression as if to say, "Go ahead—I'd just as soon you leave and stop threatening to run over my family," she will not be able to make her turn for fear of hitting you. When she rolls down her window and says, "You're making me nervous by standing so close; could you please move so I can get out?" it probably isn't terribly helpful for you to say, "Well, that's because you were backing out without seeing us." She might then shout after you as you walk away, "That's right—I wasn't seeing you, so you should have stopped walking," and you can just pretend you didn't hear her while you contemplate what a ridiculous thing you just said.

Now I'll go take my blood pressure medicine.

Sincerely,
Karen

Chicken with Almonds and Green Olives

The other night I made the Spanish chicken recipe that appeared in last Sunday's NYT magazine. It seemed very strange coming together, and it will never win a beauty competition, but it was tasty—be sure you have lots of sopping-up bread for this meal!

6 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup blanched almonds
1/2 cup country bread, torn into small pieces
4 cloves garlic, chopped
small pinch saffron
1 Tbsp chopped parsley
3–4 lbs. chicken pieces
1 dried red chili
1 Spanish onion, sliced (oops, I just realized it said sliced—I chopped mine)
1/2 cup white wine
1 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup pitted green olives

Heat 2 Tbsp oil in a large pan. Add the almonds, bread, and garlic. Cook over medium heat so the garlic softens and the bread toasts but nothing burns. (I couldn't really get the bread to toast.) Scrape into a food processor and let cool for 5 minutes. Add the saffron and parsley and pulse to a coarse paste. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 300°. Season the chicken with sea salt and dust with a little flour. Add 2 Tbsp oil to the pan and place over medium-high heat. Add chicken and brown on all sides, then remove to a plate. Wipe out the pan. (This seemed just plain wrong to me. I tried to wipe out the pan with a paper towel, but some of it got stuck to the pan, so I ended up running a little tap water in it and essentially deglazing the pan and throwing away all those yummy browned bits! Phooey!) Add the remaining 2 Tbsp oil, the chili, and the onions and cook until softened. Discard the chili. Return the chicken to the pan; pour in the wine and reduce by half.

Add the almond mixture and the broth, bring to a simmer, cover the pan, and cook in the oven until the chicken is almost done, about 40 minutes. Stir in the olives, cover, and cook 10 minutes more.

Other Movies

1. "The Tao of Steve" - This was a nice, smart, small film about love and honesty. What's not to like?

2. "Control Room" - Behind the scenes at Al Jazeera. Must-see viewing, really. I wish it had been made after Abu Ghraib—now that would have been something to see.

3. "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" - More of the same. I haven't read the books, but I feel I need to be "in on" the eternal pop culture surrounding the series.

@#$%^&*!!

I'm trying to decide whether I heard more profanity during the two episodes of "Deadwood" we watched the other night or during the two days the roofing guys were fixing our porch and gutters. I'm also trying to imagine if a vulgarity exists that I didn't hear in either of those two instances. Nope, don't think so.

Anyhow, "Deadwood." The obscene language was so over-the-top that you could ignore it after a while. I'd love to see a linguistic analysis of how many of those swear-words didn't even exist in 1876—quite a few, I'd bet. Other than that, everyone was way too articulate. And am I the only one who just assumed that Seth and Sol are a gay couple? I'll be eager to see whether that turns out to be the case—seemed obvious to me. All in all, I guess I liked it; I'll need to watch a few more episodes before I make up my mind.

Friday's Feast

Appetizer: Describe your week in one word.
sunny

Soup: Tell about a funny practical joke that you've played on someone (or that was played on you!).
This morning when the kids got up, I said, "We had a huge snowstorm last night and there's no school!"

Salad: Name someone you had a crush on when you were a kid.
gym teacher whose name I can't remember

Main Course: If you were a member of royalty, what would your title be?
Her Royal Highness, of course

Dessert: What colors are the clothes you are wearing today?
blue jeans and yellow T-shirt with multicolored butterflies (both viewable here)

Friday iPod Random Ten

1. Prohibition Has Done Me Wrong -  Jorma Kaukonen
2. Rainmaker - Keb' Mo'
3. You Can't Resist It - Lyle Lovett
4. The Ghost Of You Walks (live) - Richard Thompson
5. Keep It To Yourself - Paul Rishell
6. Drop The Pilot - Joan Armatrading
7. Where Did I Go Wrong (live) - Martin Sexton
8. Streets of Baltimore (live) - Uncle Tupelo
9. Little Miss Can't Be Wrong - Spin Doctors
10. Day Or Night (live) - Little Feat