Loving' My Oven Series May 19, 2012

                                               Friday Night Pizza Feast

Hello cats and kittens. Friday we decided to invite a few friends over for dinner at the last minute, so I fired up the oven. I started my fire at 2:00 PM, and the oven floor was nice and hot by 5:00 PM.
This time I decided that I was going to plan my meals a little more carefully. I wanted to cook pizza of course. There's hardly a day goes by that I don't want a pie, but firing up the oven is a big deal. It takes a lot of work and time. You have to tend to the fire, and that means you can't go gallivanting around town running errands etc.  I am after all, "Keeper of the Flame."
So, I went shopping before with the idea of cooking not just the pizzas, but of cooking food for the next couple of days. I decided to stuff and roast a chicken, and cook some sausages and potatoes.
Now I have heard numerous celebrity chefs say to never stuff the bird, Bobby Flay being the one who comes to mind right now.  This is bad advice in my opinion.  My mother Mary stuffed the bird her entire life, her mother before her, and I have been stuffing the bird my whole life. Here you have a nice bird, a huge cavity, come on, it begs to be filled with goodies. The flavor that comes from the natural juices can't be beat. If it's salmonella that you're worried about, that comes from not cooking the bird at a  safe temperature i.e., 155 degrees.  That's what the digital thermometer is for Bobby.
I stuffed this bird with bread crumbs, celery, sauteed mushrooms and onions, roasted fennel, herbs, and seasonings.
Then I rubbed the bird with a little olive oil,  herbs of Provence, extra dry sage, salt, pepper, and turmeric. I  baked it in the pizza oven with the door open around 400 degrees. I rotated the pan every 10 minutes or so.  It took about an hour and a half to cook. I pulled it out of the oven at 150 degrees.
I also cooked roasted potatoes and homemade chicken sausage, pictured below.

Baked New Potatoes

Chicken Sausage

New Potato, Feta, sun dried tomatoes in the oven

New potato, Feta, sun dried tomatoes

Genoa salami and three cheese pie

Old Hippie Tom Monaghan

Genoa salami, 3 cheeses, and  fresh basil

Baked Chicken with Stuffing

When I bake a chicken in the kitchen oven I keep it covered, and about 15 minutes before it's finished I uncover it to get a nice crispy skin on it, just like the one you see in this picture. I didn't have to do that with this bird in the pizza oven. I kept it in the Savory Jr. roasting pan the whole time, and it came out, as you can clearly see, crispy as can be. It was juicy as can be as well, and the stuffing was perfect, not to dry and not soggy. I hate soggy stuffing.
It's important to let a bird rest after it's been cooked.  Meat will naturally release juices after it has been cooked, but if you cut into it right away it will release those juices too quickly, and you will end up with tough meat every time. We had this bird, with a salad, for our dinner the next evening.
Well, a  good time was had by all this night.  We had four pizzas, and a lovely fresh dandelion salad, wine, and beer. We all ate at the bar,  hand to mouth.
Good food, good friends, and here's hoping the party never ends.
My sister Helene and her husband Howard come to town next week, and I'm going to plan a special meal for her birthday, which was May 15th. She and I are the only two left in our family. She's very special to me.

Peace,

Make Food, Not War

Herbs and Roses

Julia Child Rose

sign out front of house

Basil

Mint

Oregano

Terragon

Parsley

Sage

Cilantro

French Thyme

Redwood Table and Benches with Dog Che' Underneath

Bar, grill, pizza oven and Skeena the  dog

Herb Garden

Rosemary Bushes

                                                                 Herbs and Roses

About 4 months ago we began a complete remodel of our backyard, which I have mentioned before I
in previous blogs. The goal was three fold. One to have a more functional atmosphere for the dogs. Second,  a place that us humans, myself, Geri. and friends can use. And lastly a space for an herb garden.
We got rid of all the ugly buildup of dirt, put in flagstone, built  a bar with a grill and sink,  constructed the pizza oven,  and added more green space for an herb garden.
The herb garden was as important as the other newly incorporated elements.
We love the backyard now.  Before we hated it. When the fog burns off each day I'm out there. We have  bar stools so I can sit, read or write, or just hang out with the animals in the California sunshine.  But lets face it, I'm not going to crank up the grill or the pizza oven everyday, but the herb garden I can use all the time.
What we planted are herbs that we use on a daily basis. These are the same herbs that I purchase at the market. I get the herbs from a couple who I work with each week, Pilar and Rick, who own and operate Sunnyside Organic Seedlings LLC in Richmond CA. They sell seedlings to nurseries, and at farmers markets around the East Bay. Two of the most industrious people I have ever met. They are part of the movement for sustainable organic farming in this country. They are amazing, and have more energy than billy goats in the fall.
So, we now have rosemary, sage, French thyme, tarragon, parsley,  mint, cilantro, cat grass, sage, oregano, and a number of varietals of basil. I need marjoram, and a few other things. Some of the herbs are planted in the back and some, like the rosemary, are in the front of the house, or on the west side that gets lots of sun.
I'm going up to our property in June, and I'm going to bring back some sage brush, which is my favorite sage to use for cooking, especially cooking foul. We have 80 acres of sage after all. Why I don't have any in the yard is still  a mystery to me.
We tried growing some tomatoes and other things over the years, and we don't have the room or the proper amount of sunlight, and it's just not cost effective. But herbs are something we all need, and it's something we can all grow with very little effort or space. You can grow herbs right out your window in a planter box, or in your kitchen. Growing  food gets us closer to the earth, and it gives us a sense of pride to use something that we actually put in the ground, and nurtured to maturity. Not to mention it makes our food taste great, especially when it's fresh.  Herbs take our food to a whole other level of sophistication. You pick it, and it goes right into or on what your eating.
My wife brought home a dogie bag of salmon from a dinner out last night with friends, and I made an omelet with it and fresh basil. I also made a potato pancake to accompany the omelet,  and added a few chopped leaves of parsley. It made all the difference in the world.
Now the Rose, I just threw that in to give the title of this blog a little more pazazz,  sorta like Guns and Roses. This particular rose was given to Geraldine when her grandma Elsie passed away almost three and a half years ago. The reason I included the rose is that it is named the Julia Child rose. Named after the grande dame of cooking herself. What a beautiful tribute to an amazing woman.

Peace,

Make Food, Not War

Second Dinner for...Lovin" My Oven Series

                                      Second dinner for Lovin' My Oven series

It was a small gathering of friends with a big meal. My friend Brendan and his fiance Mabelle showed up, and two old friends Kathleen and Charles. They're all foodies so I figured if they liked what I prepared then I was on the right track.
Charles's family owned and operated a pizzeria in Syracuse New York for years. All the kids worked in the restaurant, just like my cousins and myself at my Aunt Dollie and Uncles Jimmy's place, the Wagon Wheel Inn, in Brookfield, CT. If Charles liked the pies, then it was a hit.
Kathleen, Charles wife, is a chef in her own right, and operated a catering business for quite a while.
Brendan is a great cook also.
I cranked the oven up at about 10:00 AM for a 5:00 PM meal. Possibly a little overkill. It does need to warm up at least 3 hours prior to operation or the ceramic floor of the oven will not be hot enough. You also need to build a good base of coals.
If the food is good then people will ask for seconds,  it's that simple. That is always my benchmark of success.
I cooked three pizzas, two of which we ate, and I saved the other one for tonight. The crusts were crispy, the bottoms of the pies were cooked, but not overcooked. When the pies hit the oven floor you could hear a sizzle right away as the raw dough made contact with the hot ceramic tile. You can just reach in the oven ever minute or so and turn the pie with your hands to keep the crust that's facing the fire from burning . I had the oven at about 650 degrees. I got nice bubbles on all the pies,  The fire was in the back of the oven of course.
I was very happy with these pizzas.
Second course was a salad of dandelions greens, radishes, julienne cucumber and onion. The dressing was made from the juice of 4 lemons, juice of 1/2 orange, 1/2  teaspoon of herbs of Provence, salt, pepper,  4 tablespoons olive oil.
The third course was Pappardelle pasta with braised oxtail ragu. This recipe makes enough ragu to dress at least 32 ounces to this particular pasta.
Pappardelle is a thin delicate broad egg noodle pasta. This dish is highly addictive, and just blogging about it brought me back to the fridge for some leftovers.  I'm eating it right now. I got this recipe from a man named Mike Lee via A.G. Ferrari's Foods. The one tricky thing about this dish is combining the noodles and the ragu because Pappardelle  is so delicate. It cooks aldente' in 4 minutes. Gentle tongs are needed to mix the ragu and the pasta without breaking the noodles.
The other  two things about oxtail is that when they are cooked properly, that is, low and slow, the meat just falls off the bones, and those bones, especially at the end of the tail are very small. You want to be sure that you get all those little bones out, and secondly to separate all the fat from the meat . You can only do this with your hands. Take your time. Got over and over it because you don't want one of your friends or customers going to the dentist the next day with a chipped a tooth. That will ruin your whole dinner.
The vegetable of the meal was asparagus lightly coated with olive oil, salt, pepper, and cooked on the gas grill. This takes about 10 minutes tops. This is how I always cook asparagus and this is that time of year for one of my most favorite vegetables.
The fourth course was rabbit with pearl onions and dates. This was the big hit of the affair. This recipe comes from Jacques Pepin, and I modified it to my liking. Jacques recipe calls for prunes but I used dates.  It also calls for a caramel of red wine vinegar and sugar to pour in the dish. Personally I think it was sweet enough without the caramel sauce. This was the first time Mabelle had eaten rabbit, and she loved it. None of the rabbit survived, and all of it was all sent home in dogie bags with the guests.
As a side dish to go with the rabbit I made a pound of white Casa beans with panchetta, onions, salt, pepper, and fresh parsley. I let these sit overnight in the fridge in a large pot of water. Next day I drained the water, and cooked them for a about an hour and a half with  two cups of chicken stock and just enough water to keep them covered.
I prepared all these dishes the day before the dinner. This gave them time for the flavors to marry themselves in the loving safety of the refrigerator.
Last but not least was Geraldine's blackberry cobbler, which as I predicted would be a huge hit. Everyone had seconds, and only the baking dish survived this course.
The one problem with this meal is we were so busy eating we didn't take any photos, with the exception of the pizzas so I'm going to cook the pasta again because I have leftover ragu, and I will photograph it.

Sharp Cheddar, Romano, Basil and Genoa Salami

Mozzarella, Feta, Kalamata olives, and capers

                                           

Pappardelle Pasta with Braised Oxtail Ragu

                                               

If anyone reads this and is interested in the recipes for any of these dishes just write, and I'll send them to you. Peace.

That it....Make Food, Not War

herbs and roses

Curing The Oven and the Man in the Photo

I checked the oven this morning, and the temperature gauge read 400 degree.  I do love this oven. Today I will cure the oven at 450 degree, tomorrow 500, and this phase of the FB 1/2 ton, Casa 2G 32" Forno Bravo Oven, is thankfully over.
The man pictured, here with Geraldine and myself is Michael David Evans. He is an  dear old friend of mine from Connecticut, and an old hippie. This photo was taken in April 2012,  Paris France.

Peace, Love, and Happiness

Curing Time Again......day 4....No More Curing

I'm done curing. The Casa  2G 32" oven is done. Technically I'm supposed to cure it another day, but if it's not ready now it never will be. I've had it up to 700 degrees, and there's no cracks. The whole inside is a deep iron kettle black. To prove my point I made some dough for the Thursday night hoot-n-nanny rock-n-roll jamboree.  I had a small 8.5 oz. piece of dough left over so I made a quick pie. I just wanted to see if it wouldn't stick, and it cooked just fine.  The dough wasn't ready, and the temp was low, 400 degrees,  but it was pretty tasty none the less. It had that take me back to the East Coast taste, where you take a bite, close your eyes, and you're back at the family restaurant.

When I cook pies the oven temp will be 650 degrees.

I let my dough proof in the fridge for 3 days, then the day I'm cooking pies, I punch it down an hour before cooking time, let it rise again, and there you have it. They's ready to roll, construct,  and cook.

This pie had red sauce, sharp Irish cheddar cheese, Molinari Genoa salami, and herbs of Provence. 

I closed the door to the oven at about 8:30 PM tonight, and no more curing. I'm done, I'm cured of curing.  

When I went and opened the door to the oven this morning the temperature gauge read 350 degree after sitting all night. This oven holds heat.

 I could do a commercial for this oven, no problem. Stayed tuned for more Lovin' My Oven posts.

Peace,

Maske Food, Not War

Lovin My Oven...Curing the Oven....Day #2....5-5-2012

It's Cinco De Mayo Today.  Our friend Buzz is coming over for  tacos tonight. He's on his own as his wife Chris has been in the hospital, and is now recovering at her mother's home out of town..  So, even though the oven is not completely cured I figured what the hell, I'm going to cook something in there.   It's driving me crazy that I have this amazing oven, and I"m not cooking anything in it.
The first food items to be cooked in the Forno Bravo Casa 2G oven,  aka the FB 1000, or the FB 1/2 Ton, were two Chipolte chilies, and one Guajillo chili, which formed the basis of my hot salsa for our meal. These cooked on the oven floor at 350 degree for about 15 minutes. After they cooled I took the seeds out, and I put the chilies in a food processor, removed the large pieces that wouldn't process, and in a small mixing bowl added the juice of one lemon, and a couple of teaspoons for water. We now had our hot sauce.
I cooked up some simple white rice with salt and black pepper, a dirty rice, and  heated up a can of organic black beans. I'm not afraid or embarrassed to admit that I use canned products. If it's good, and easy, it's for me.
I cleaned three Anaheim green chilies, and stuffed them with sharp cheddar cheese, sprinkled a little olive oil on top with fresh  ground black pepper and salt, and cooked them in the oven in a square 9 inch baking pan for about 20 minutes. The pan was covered with aluminum foil. No dredging in egg whites, just simple and plain.
Geri made a guacamole with the meat of two avocados, lemon juice, salt, black pepper, a dash or two of hot sauce,  a half of jalapeno pepper minced,  2 cloves of garlic minced, and fresh cilantro from the herb garden.
The meat du jour for this meal was two chicken breasts cut into 3/4 inch cubes, and  marinated with lemon juice, salt, black pepper, olive oil, and cayenne pepper.
Geri also made a salad of bitter bitter greens, tomatoes, cucumber, lemon juice, olive oil and S & P.
We had a nice bottle of red wine Buzz brought over, and I baked the corn meal taco shells in my Lovin' Oven for about 5 minutes with some melted sharp cheddar cheese on them.
I cooked the chicken in a non stick skillet on the Lynx grill at 350 degrees.
We took a quick walk after dinner up in the Oakland hill, and by the time we got home I was worn out.
I had left the oven at 350 degree when we left, and when we returned home about a hour later the oven was smoking away at 350 degree.
The curing instructions tell you to close the oven door at night to retain the heat. Now, I am a skeptic at heart,. You might say an East Coast pessimist . It runs in my family. But when I awoke this particular morning I grabbed the handle of the black oven door and dam straight if it wasn't warm to the touch, and best of all the temperature gauge read 250 degrees.  After a a few scraps of the SF Chronicle, a couple of pieces of kindling, and some fresh air she fired right back up again. Foron Bravo has lousy building instructions, and their DVD just outright sucks, but their curing instruction are spot on,  and their oven rocks the Cazbar.
Today I'm going to cure that oven at 400 degrees, tomorrow 450,  and Tuesday 500. Thursday night the boys come over for a hoot-n-nanny, rock and roll jamboree,  and I'll be cooking pizza for my musician buddies.
Sunday April 12 is Mother's Day, and then we have our grand opening, with a huge meal planned, and the maiden voyage  of Geraldine's La De Da Cafe begins.
You gotta love your Mother.
More to come.

Peace,

Make Food, Not War

Lovin' My Oven Series Thursday May 3rd 2012

This is a series that starts today called Lovin' My Oven. I will attempt to records all the meals I cook in the Forno Bravo Casa 2G  pizza oven kit that we built in the back yard as part of my backyard remodel/outdoor kitchen project, for one year. This will include photos of the meals as well.  Those recipes will form the basis of a book I will publish under the same name. A lofty goal I know. "We shall see," said the blind man.

Up till now our backyard kitchen consisted of an old smoky Joe Webber, and a Little chief electric smoker. The backyard was such a mess. I'm not going to attempt describe it. It has been, and will continue to be used to support my pet sitting business, but it was not people friendly back there to say the least. The dogs liked it, but I came to hate it.  It was affectinately refered to as the Gaza Strip. 

So, with the help and guidance of my now friend Brendan Leathem we took out a couple of yards of dirt, laid down some beautiful Connecticut flag stone, built a long redwood table with benches for dinners with friends, installed some sun sails, and built a space for an herb garden. That was phase one.

Phase two consisted of building an L shaped bar from redwood with a small sink that is hooked up to the garden hose for some water. It has a good 6 feet of table space for prep, and room for at least 3 bar stools so people can just sit,  eat or enjoy a drink, and it has a two burner Lynx grill. I painted everything and varnished the bar top with 6 coats of marine varnish .
The grill has a smoker with it and cooks at 50,000 BTU's and supposedly will get up to 800 degrees. But, if I want to smoke anything it will be smoked in the pizza oven.
There will be a canopy over the bar soon, and a sign in the back that will read Geraldine's La De Da Cafe'. Phase two almost complete.

Phase three consists of a Forno Bravo pizza oven. We had a steel stand fabricated with locking wheels so I can move it around when necessary. It's about four and a half feet off the ground, and comes up high enough so you don't have to slump over to use it, very functional, and easy on the old back.
The kit comes shipped in a crate, and you put it together. I'm not going to detail that event here, but it takes at least two people, two days to put the kit together, and then another two days with two people to wrap the fire blanket on top or the oven, cover it with chicken wire, and do the stucco work.
I also had the assistance of our good friend Tom Monaghan, so thank you Tom.
Once the oven was complete the fun starts, FIRE. It has to be cured, and that's where the rest of this blog will begin. Stay Tuned On.

Peace,

Make Food, Not War

Lovin' My Oven...Curing The Oven... Day one, 5-4-2012

 When you cure an oven what happens is you build a series of  low temperature fires. in this case,  over a period of five days. That is how long the process takes. If your fire is too hot without curing it properly the water that is still in the mortar will boil, and you could seriously damage the oven.
You can't use a heating element, you need to use wood. It is a wood fired oven after all.
The oven, once it has been constructed, still has a good quantity of water retained in the cement forms, anywhere from 5 to 15 gallons. Just letting it sit outside in the open won't do. This oven sat around for 3 weeks before we assembled it, then Geraldine and I took our trip to Paris for two weeks.  I'm assuming some of that 15 gallons of water evaporated,  but not all of it.
Three days back from gay Paris, myself, Brendan and Tom finished wrapping the 3 inches of fire blanket around the outside, laid the chicken wire on top of that, and applied the first coat of stucco. This was Tuesday May 1st, International Workers Holiday, and just in time for a nice little Occupy Oakland riot.
May 1st is also our dogs, Frida and Che's birthday.
The next day May second, we put the finishing coat of stucco on the oven.
The oven for all practical purposes was now complete, and in a few days time, once the stucco had a little time to set up, I would begin the process of curing the oven.  A dream of mine had been realized, and that's always a good feeling, to accomplish something you set out to do. I have been looking at ovens, on line, for about 8 years. The three of us stood around, and marveled at our work. Man, that's one cool oven.
Thursday it rained, and  the oven remained shrouded in black plastic. The next 5 days were going to be beautiful, with a big fat full moon, low tides on the coast, and nice temperatures.  In other words, perfect weather for curing the oven.
The the first day of curing instructions calls for a low grade fire of 300 degrees to be maintained for 24 hrs.
It was not hard to get it lit, and with the door to the oven completely open it heats up very quickly. Once I learned how to raise or lower the temperature using only the door of the oven as a ballast,  the oven would hold that temperature right there at 300. The position of the oven door also controls the quantity of smoke. Completely open very little smoke, almost shut, lots of smoke.
I was feeling so happy so I decided to have a beer around 5:00 PM, and then had some tokeless. I settled in for what I was thinking would be a long night out in the backyard. Well, that's why I remodeled the whole damn place.
Our backyard late at night, in the foothills of Oakland, especially when the fog is out to sea,  and the temperatures hover around 65 degrees, can be magical. You can barely hear the freeway noise, a scant two city blocks away, but you can hear the train whistle rumbling through downtown Oakland and Jack London Square. If people only knew just how cool the East Bay is.
With the smell of the juniper and pepper wood, the beers,  and the tokeless,  it was shaping up to be one of those cosmic magical nights.
I closed the door to the oven at about 8:30 PM, finished my last Sierra Nevada pale ale, and called it a day, a hell of a good one. I had spent the day tending the fire, playing a little guitar, and working on this blog.
I felt a little like some mythical Pagan figure , The Keeper of the Flame, or the Flame Master, Fire Starter, something stupid like that.  Maybe it was a combo of the ale and the weed, but five days of keeping a fire stoked is, none the less,  a long time.

Every once in a while that coastal breeze blows that train whistle up to the foothills from down at Jack London Square, and you know you're home baby.
Stay tuned on for more Lovin' My Oven entries.

Peace,

Make Food, Not War

You Gotta Move

This is coming straight from my journal, in which I kept pretty detailed notes of our trip to Paris with my bride Geraldine. We've been home just one week now, the jet lag is gone, and we are back to our normal mundane, all be it,  everyday, work-a-day routine.

I noticed there weren't a lot of hippies in Paris, least not at this time of year, and not a lot of men sporting beards. Both are in abundance in the bay area, and that makes me feel at home. They never have gotten the whole hippie thing down in Europe. Gypsies they got, but they're outside the whole stratification process, anarchists is what they are. Hippies fall into that general category of anarchy.
The attached photo was taken a couple of days into our stay in Paris.

We had just finished shooting a cooking demo in our apartment in Montparnasse, and Geraldine and I were out for our evening stroll, and checking out this bar that has a jam session. I was very much in the mood to play some music.  It was a nice walk, no rain. We got to our destination, had a beer, and decided to keep moving. Geri was dead set on making sure I got my exercise via walking the streets of Paris, and I was all for the workout. I had a goal of loosing 5 to10 pounds in Paris and I did it, all by walking my fat ass off.
That's what people do there, they walk. I counted one gym in all of Paris. People walk everywhere, and take the Metro, which once you've figured out the system, it's easy and cheap. We were sashaying our derrieres around town,  shooting photos of this or that, and just having a good ol' time being away from the dogs and cats, and our everyday responsibilities. We were only responsible for ourselves for a change, and a little freedom is addictively liberating. It's like being young again, but this time we're old, or older, and who knows if or when we'll ever get back to Paris. You just want time to slow down, hell stop, but time has a way of ruthlessly marching along.

So we're in  Paris, and I said "fuck it,  I'm not coming all this way without playing the blues. So I pulled out my trusty ol' C harp and played You Gotta Move. Don't ask me who wrote it, but I've been playing it for over 40 years. ever since the Stone's had it on their Exile On Main Street album, my favorite Stone's album, for it's worth. That album, and most anything pre 66'. That's a whole other article. The tag line to said song is "When the Lord gets ready, you gotta move."

I actually had a couple of people stop and listen till I was finished, and I was  happy about that.  What I'm about to tell you is no lie. When I was finished singing that song I said to myself "If it ended right here, right now, then I'm good with that."

It didn't end right there or then so we strolled down another street, and decided to hit this Irish Pub.  My wife's the Irish one, a Prod, raised  Catholic. We ordered a couple of pints of 1664, and we're sitting back talking, and a young guy goes past me on my right side heading to my left, towards the front door, and out of my left eye he puts what looks like a 32  revolver up to the left temple of my head, and I didn't get nervous at all. I was completely calm. Not an normal thing for me. I'm the high strung hippie, not the mellow one. He said something in english which I can't recall.

Now I've had guns pulled on me a couple of times before in my life, real close like,  and I was real friggin' scared those times it happened. I've pulled guns on people a time or two, and they were scared. It's as natural as breathing to be scared when a loaded pistol is poised at your temple. I'm not boasting here, and I'm no tough guy, that was my father Rocco, but at that moment in time I didn't care.

It was at that instant when time almost stood still, and just before my wife said "what are you doing?" in her Miss Manners' voice to our new friend with the "gun", was when I said to myself,  "I'm OK with this, this is a good place to die. I'm cool with it. Maybe this is it, maybe today is the day"

I had heard from a friend before we left the states that someone was going around Paris shooting people. Some whacked out ethnic thing. We got that over here too. My buddy and I were joking about it saying something like, "Sounds like a normal day in Oaktown to me man." you know.
What we hadn't heard before we arrived in Paris was that people were now going around with plastic toy guns, putting them up to people's heads as a joke in response to the people doing it for real.

I grew up in a home with guns, spent a lot of time in the woods as a boy, a lot of time, and I've had weapons my whole  life.  I may rightly say I'm quite good with both  knives, and guns alike, I have a fondness for their artistry, and a deep respect for what they can do.  Everything has a place in the universe.

Now just after I said I was OK with dying for the second time that evening, within the last 1/2 hour for Christ's sake, and just before Geri said, "what are you doing"  my hand instinctively moved to my right front pocket for my nifty 3 inch buck knife. I put it in with my check-in bag. We traveled light, but I have always carried a knife since I was of a young boy. I've been a barber now for 42 years, and one of my fortes is a sharp razor.  It's a family tradition. If I don't have a knife I my right front pocket it will drive me crazy till I have one there, no kidding. I'll become obsessed. I have carried a knife in my right hand pants pocket my entire life.

We were just in NYC a few days before this, and I found out later, that it's illegal to carry a knife there. Give me a friggin break.

Man times sure have changed. Men use to be called "cats" now we're calling each other "dog".

Anyway, like I said, I was OK with dying right then and there, but maybe I could get a jab in before it was all over. I figure at least go down trying.

Anyhow, I wasn't really committed to pulling the knife anyway. I figured I had a right to protect myself, but I was a stranger in this town. I been living in and around San Francisco since I was 17 and S.F. is called the Paris of the West, but this was the real Paris, and I'm an American.

When I was younger I was much more dangerous man than I am now, and a whole lot quicker. He might not had got the drop on me when I was younger. But, with age comes some pragmatic abilities.  Not to mention, who knows what the French gendarmes are going to think of me right?

It was just then that I looked over at Geri, and we both realized that this little scene being played out was too contrived to be too real. Well Praise Jesus, I did not have to move as the song suggests which was perfectly fine with me. I was OK with dying like I said, but I was equally committed to living a little longer.

And that, cats and kittens, is a true story.

I sat the young gentleman down, even bought him a beer, and explained that in America, the wild West, where we come from, people don't like getting guns pulled on them, it's not a joke. Even when he put the toy gun down on the table where we were sitting at he pointed the barrel of the gun at me, which I couldn't abide by, so I changed the direction of the barrel.

I concluded that we Americans don't get a lot of other people's cultures, and they don't get ours either. He and his friend who showed up believed it was funny. It became a fad for a short time there. People putting toy guns up to folks' heads. Ha Ha Ha.

I was just happy to be alive. I was with my girl of 24 years,  she still looks good to me, Geri's gorgeous, everyone knows that, we are still in love with each other, and it's Paris in April even if it won't stop fucking raining day after day.

The next day some teenager tried to pick my back pack on the escalator in the Metro, but some nice young gentleman told me what was happening, and then told the pickpocket to bugger off. I didn't feel a thing when he was trying to fleece me.  These kids today.

It's nice to know that my world, Geri's and mine, for better or worse, is still not dull.
This is a food blog, dedicated to food, but I just had to tell this one. Thanks for indulging me, that is, if anyone actually reads this.

You gotta love Paris man.

Stay tuned on to the next blog series... Lovin' My Oven

Peace,

Make Food, Not War

Wood Fire Pizza Oven Completed!

                                                      Forno Bravo Casa G2 32" Pizza Oven

Today I completed building our wood fired pizza oven that I have been in the process of building, along with a backyard kitchen.  I did this with the help and aid of my friends Brendan Leathem and Tom Monaghan. Thank you Brendan and Tom.

It came out tits if I do say so..  I should have videoed the whole process,  but alas. This weekend I will begin the curing process which will take 5 days. That I might video. Below is a picture of me and one of our dogs Westy, also known as Benito Picadilla  aka The Little Penis. I thought about cooking him up, but decided  I'd wait till the oven was cured. He was a little scared when I put him in there. That's it.
Stay tuned for the Lovin' My Oven series.

Peace,

Make Food, Not War

Tripping in gay Paris

My lovely wife, Geraldine and I spent two glorious, rainy weeks, in Paris sashaying our humble derrieres about the rues of that great and glorious city.

...waiting out the rain.