JOHN JACOB JINGLE HEIMER SCHMIDT

The first of May. Spring is in the air and I have noticed two things that take me back to my early years. The sensory memories, I find, are the strongest. Well, technically speaking, I guess that they are all sensory memories. What I am specifically referring to are those of sound and smell. This past weekend I caught the scent of charcoal and pine smoke in the air. One of my neighbors had a backyard fire going, presumably to barbecue, and it smelled like they used pine cones or needles to help start the charcoal along. The aroma gave me a sense of comfort and emotional warmth. It is a familiar smell that I associate with good times, happy times. As I walked a little farther the scent faded as did the emotion.

Continue reading “JOHN JACOB JINGLE HEIMER SCHMIDT”

MY POOR DAD

Birthdays for me, and should be for everyone, a special day. I am going to stop here to make an acknowledgement to mothers. I personally feel that they should be celebrated every year on the day of their child’s birth. I mean, they did all the work for 9 months and were not able to have a drink the entire time. My friend Jane is pregnant with her first child and I Continue reading “MY POOR DAD”

A MEMORABLE WEEKEND

In 1951 my father shipped out from Mare Island. In Korea, at the age of 23, Second Lieutenant Vernon Judt was assigned to a Battalion Aid station. My father only ever told me two stories about the war. One, “When I first went over, when it was quiet, the doc and I would put an inch of whiskey in our canteen cups then fill it with water. By the end we would fill them with whiskey, no water.” The other was darker and more suggestive than inclusive with detail. “Some nights there would be so many wounded that the Doc could not handle them all. On those nights I would have to triage. Some, the ones you knew would not make it, I would give extra morphine to them and tell them that everything would be okay.” Continue reading “A MEMORABLE WEEKEND”

WHAT THE TRUCK?

“Do you have a job yet?” The voice on the other end of the line asked.

The year was 1991, I had recently graduated from the California Culinary Academy and had just, two days prior, returned from a month long driving tour of Europe with my buddy Dale.

“No.” I said, with no apparent alacrity, anticipating the crush of credit card debt that was headed my way.

And so it all began, the call that changed the direction of my life. Within a week’s time I was cooking for none other than Continue reading “WHAT THE TRUCK?”