Planning, Golden Gate Park, Rice, Beer

Geri and I and the bicycles went over the iron curtain this morning to our friend Erwin's, and the three of us planned out a rough sketch of a party we are having for ourselves, Erwin and myself that is.

Erwin was one of my instructors in culinary school, and when I graduated we kept in touch. After graduating I went back into the trades and Erwin asked me to paint his house. I did it as a side job and we both worked on it together.  One weekend painting at his house I said something about me being a Virgo and Erwin asked what day. I told him September 8th and he said, "I don't believe you, show me." I went into my pick-up truck, got my wallet, showed him my California driver license, and he he looked at me and said to me in his Santa Claus Austrian accent, "We have the same birthday Marcel." For some reason I was not surprised. Another Christmas/New Year's baby, rebirth.

Erwin is a real character to say the least. We finished painting the house, and we have been friends ever since. I have many stories about our time in school together where we first became friends with one another. I guess I hate to admit it, but Erwin is culinary role model to me for sure.

Erwin is 10 years older than me, to the day. We decided to have a "joint" 60/70 party at his place in Bodega Bay. He is a master chef for sure, and sometimes I think he thinks I'm just a rookie, and in some ways he's right. I mean, I can always learn something right? When Erwin cooks I listen and I learn. We have a healthy little competitive cooking edge with each other. We're fucking humans.

We were hanging out, talking about what we needed for the party, making notes, me at the counter, Geri (the silent Virgo) on the couch, Erwin commanding stage. Our main course for the party is going to be file' gumbo. The subject of rice came up of course. I wanted to make dirty rice & red beans. "Let's make it brown rice." I said.  Erwin countered, "The problem I have with red beans is they are red, and brown rice is not white rice."

I have a hard time standing my ground with Erwin sometimes, unless it's life threatening. We've had a couple of those, but hey, this is just a fucking party. Erwin is a perfectionist and that is a Virgo trait after all. Besides that I love the sous chef position. I takes a lot of the pressure off of me. I have no idea why people think second is such a bad place to land?

I have never thrown myself a birthday party, but  60 is kind of a big deal to me for some stupid reason. I mean, it's all stupid, so why not at least celebrate the stupidity of both of us, me and Erwin. So we're talking bout this and that, chicken, sausage selection, hors d'oeuvre, salads dessert, etc. and he says, "I cook rice like pasta, at the very last minutes, lots of water, drain it and serve it, keep it covered to keep it warm." I said, "You gotta be kidding me?." Erwin challenged with, "I'll show you Marcel."

He got the water salted and boiling, and he couldn't find any rice in the house. "Let's go do some shopping Marcel." Erwin was determined to show me his rice cooking method. I know he's right. I mean, how many way are there to skin a dog? I said, "I take your word for it Erwin." But no.

Erwin lives 1.5 blocks from Haight Street, my old stomping grounds. The place looks nothing like 1971, except for the freaks, and that might be a good thing after all. Haight street in 71' was depressed to use a kind word. That's other stories for another day. I got  a lot of Haight Street stories.

We shopped, Erwin cooked lunch, incredible, of course. He cooked the rice, 15 minutes, boiling hot water, like pasta, salt, strain, rinse, plate. Cooked to perfection, fluffy like you ain't never seen. Fucking Erwin schools my ass again, but what did expect. I felt like a 7th grader again. I will make him feel like he's student again. I've done it before.  It's only a matter of time.

I had 4 beers today and man does it feel good to fall off the wagon. Know what I miss most about being 17 in the summertime in Connecticut, drinking, and driving, that's what.

We rode through Golden Gate Park to the ocean, the Coast of the West. Ocean beach, the same place my sister Roxanne and my brother-in-law Mickey took me my first day in San Francisco and Mickey said to me, "There it is Marcel, the Pacific ocean." I was in awe then.

On the way back from our trek to the sea we stopped to drink some water. We both looked out at the ocean at the same time and we're just amazed at how beautiful it all is. Geri looked at me and said, "I don't care what anyone says, this is one of the  most beautiful places in the world and we live here." I would have added fucking after beautiful but, you can't really argue with that logic. I was in awe, again. I was at the time, on a natural high.

A pretty good day.

Mount Tam here I come.

That's it.

Peace,

Make Food/Not War

Food Consumption;

Breakfast; grape nuts, 2 % milk, 1 banana, black tea

Lunch; potato dumplings, with carmelized  prunes, coffee 1 sugar/milk

Dinner: turkey sandwich w/mustard avocado, mustard, tomato, olive bread

Exercise; 2 miles walking dogs, 1 hour cycling down to the Pacific Ocean

beers, Alice, popcorn