OH OH BAM-BI-NO’S

There came that one day when I just, no longer wanted to be an auto mechanic. My hands were constantly stained with grease and grime, I worked in an environment full of VOC’s and I have no doubt that smelling gasoline and solvents, all day, every day, did nothing to help my personality. Even though I had a union job, making good money, I quit. Wait for it. To become a bartender.  Little did I know, that one decision who forever change the course of my life and provide me opportunities to see the parts of the globe I honestly did not know existed.

I chose not to go to college straight out of high school. Being bullied in grade school, I opted for the rebellious teenage mantel during high school. I proudly graduated with a C average. Straight A’s in auto shop, D’s in every other course. (These were the years when one would not be failed out of high school.) Back then it was as acceptable to enter the Trades as it was to attend college. You could also pay for college, live, eat and have a few beers on minimum wage job back then too. (I’ll save the social commentary for the next election.)

I was fortunate enough that my father offered to pay for my tuition at a 9 month trade school in Phoenix Arizona, called Universal Technical Institute. Deciding to wait until September to start classes, missing the heat of summer turned out to be a wise idea, I packed up my belongings in an old steamer trunk and took the family car, now mine, through the desert into the Great State of Arizona.

“Living on the road my friends, was meant to keep me free and clean.”

All was well and good. I got a job, sharpening saw blades. Having always been handy, this seemed an appropriate manner in which to earn my living. I rented my first apartment and experienced my first roommate. Oddly enough, he and I shared the exact same birthdate. Same date, same year. Cheers to you Keith. Now to set the stage a tiny bit more. I had recently spent the last few seasons working at the Renaissance Faire. For those of you born later than I was, consider it the Burning Man of my time. Hippies, marijuana and communal showers. Everything a teenage boy needed to . . . well . . . be a teenage boy.

I made dear friends at the Ren Faire, many I still have today. All were my senior. So imagine coming from a smoke enhanced, communal hippie setting only to find yourself into an anxious group of turgid (Yes I know what turgid means and I mean it here.) 18 year old men. I felt, and was, most certainly out of place. What I needed was to find, my safe place. Enter Gina and the Statler Lounge. At that time in Arizona the drinking age was 19 and I was 18. While this was mildly problematic I thank Gina for never carding me. The Statler Lounge was the first place where I learned that you could lose money playing pool. That there were many kinds of mixed drinks, other than the Highballs and Gimlets that my parents enjoyed, and that some people could be very nice.

Gina was the bartender. She was old, 40 I think. Back in those days you could run a tab.  The very first night I drank more than I could afford. I was embarrassed and asked to pay it the following week. Which I did. I was shy at the bar but kept coming back every week on Friday night needing a safe place of my own. I never ran my tab that high again and only ever ordered 2 drinks even though I wanted more. Gina taught me about tipping and I started to feel like I fit in. Gina, it turns out, was from San Francisco. She recognized the Bay in me and took me under her wing. About 4 or 5 Fridays into our relationship Gina made me a deal. She promised to rip up my tab if I would do just one thing for her. Near the end of the night she needed help carrying out the beer from the back room to the bar to restock the refrigerators. The cart was too heavy for her to manage easily. My job on Friday nights became this: Drink for free; bring the beer from the back.  I had my safe place. When I finished my technical tenure, I was proud of what I had learned and was ready to return to the City by the Bay. Even before I left I missed Gina. I miss her and the Statler Lounge today where I had become a regular. And yes, I miss the free drinks. Yukon Jack and grapefruit juice, if you must know.

Last week I popped into our newest Italian restaurant in town: Bambino’s at 301 Georgia At. Does it remind me of the Statler Lounge? Not really. It more reminds me of a little bar and Italian restaurant that I worked for in Rodeo. That was my first job as a bartender after a few years working as an auto mechanic. That place had the Statler Lounge feel and great Italian food to boot in a family friendly environment. It was that job that sent me to my next where I ended up managing restaurants, then to culinary school, then abroad cooking on motion pictures.

Bambino’s is that kind of family friendly restaurant. The evening I went, I saw a few of my Vallejo friends enjoying dinner in there as well. The food was well prepared, their cooks obviously skilled at their craft.  I chose the Chicken Marsala. The chicken was tender covered in a light mushroom sauce. The dish was served with an expertly blanched bit of broccoli that served as the perfect foil to the rich chicken sauce. That and glass of Chianti had me saying ‘Per Piacere’ for more.

I am happy that we have another place in town.

May each meal bring you joy and every companion, happiness.

Tommy Judt

FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST-MAS

It is said that Casanova was the world’s greatest lover. That he knew the secret to seducing women. That he had mastered the Language of Love. I will share with you that as I plod my way through life I wish that I knew half of what he knew. Or then again, maybe not. Dear Mr. C. was well known for his conquests but not so much for staying power.  His language of love was effective if not fleeting. READ MORE

BISCUITS & GRAVY

I have a relationship with food and I hate how some people characterize these types of things as: Healthy or Un-healthy. I have a relationship. One that is rich, complicated and long in history. I am proud of the fact that we do not go very long without seeing each other. Sometimes it is just a brief hello, other times we engage in a multi-course conversation that can last for days. The very best thing about this relationship is that it is extremely sensitive to my mood, whatever it may be, AND I have found . . . READ MORE

LET THERE BE LIGHT

I remember flipping the channel one day and landed on channel 9, our local PS station, only to hear Joseph Campbell talk about Sir Galahad and the Holy Grail. Galahad was the bastard son of Lancelot and was renowned for his gallantry, his purity and the most perfect of all the knights. The Grail Legend, in my mind, is to constantly seek and strive to be better in life and to do so with Continue reading “LET THERE BE LIGHT”

EARTH, WIND AND FIRE

When I was younger than a teenager and my family took camping trips for vacation, I had my first experience with fire. Now, of course, I had experienced the burn-your-marshmallows kind of fire many times. We had gone camping for many years in a row. I even saw my father use a flat piece of metal supported by rocks over an open flame, cook us breakfast before. But my first scary experience with fire Continue reading “EARTH, WIND AND FIRE”

ARE WE THERE YET?

Throughout my life we, as a family, would drive up from the East Bay to Vallejo to visit my grandparents. Occasionally it was just for a visit, mostly it was for a holiday bbq or dinner.  The seven of us, mom, dad and 5 whining siblings, would load into the old brown Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon. The reason it was called a Vista Cruiser is that there were two windows, in the roof,  above the back passenger seat. I guess one could look at the stars if one were laying on one’s back, in the back seat. Any way. Continue reading “ARE WE THERE YET?”

UPRIGHT

I grew up in the 60’ and 70’s. With a brother, sisters, a dog and 2 parents, the house was always busy. In the evening, mostly, we quieted down to watch TV. 1. Because we had color TV and that was a newish thing to have and 2. So my dad would have a peaceful evening after a long day at work. TV then was as mind numbing as it is now. In fact, after Games of Thrones tanked in the last episode I cancelled my cable subscription.  Of the shows I watched back then Continue reading “UPRIGHT”

JUNIOR

In a story that I once heard, a new joint chief of staff was appointed to lead our military. There was a reception following the swearing in ceremony that was well attended. After the event the new chief of staff met in a small room with the surviving, retired chiefs of staff. The new chief said, “This is an elite club, isn’t it?”  To which the eldest retired chief replied, “Yes, and you’re the junior member.”

 

This is how my first turn on the dais started. Continue reading “JUNIOR”

SUMMER’S END

It seems that fig trees are as thick and plentiful as oxalis, here in Vallejo. Tommy Bilbo has one that produces the largest and most luscious figs in town I believe. I see  fig trees, on my walks, in neighbor’s front yards and I hear stories of parking lots in town where one need not even reach over the fence to harvest for the branches are so laden and long.  I drop a Google pin to a friend every time I come across one of these beauties in the public way. She’s a forager and is compiling a map of all the fruit, herbs and edibles that are to be found just wandering the streets of Vallejo. She calls me, the Fig Whisperer.

Continue reading “SUMMER’S END”