While my father lamented the reprisal of tuna casserole on my birthday, he was in agreement with me on one thing: Chocolate cake for dessert. On occasion, my mother would try to make something from scratch. Chocolate cake was not this thing. A box mix where she added eggs and milk. Oh! She did have a secret ingredient. She would reduce Continue reading “SUGAR TOOTH”
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”
I DID A THING
Every 4th of July we, as a country, celebrate our independence from Jolly Olde England. The day stands as a reminder of how we came together as a people to establish self-governance. Self-Governance. What an interesting word. Self-Governance. I keep writing this word because it strikes me that we, as a country, seem to have forgotten Continue reading “I DID A THING”
TIME FOR A CURRY
There is not much my mother could ever say to make me physically cringe, except . . . Now I am not sure why this always fell to me but every night, just before dinner, my mother would raise her voice slightly so she could be heard above the TV and say, “Tom, come make the milk for dinner.” There are two things that I want to say about this. Continue reading “TIME FOR A CURRY”
EL DORADO
The lost city of gold. The first time I heard of El Dorado was from the Howard Hawkes movie with John Wayne and James Caan. A classic shoot-em-up with a drunken sheriff, a grumpy sidekick, a young whipper-snapper and, of course, John Wayne. During an early part of the movie John Wayne and James Caan are riding through a saguaro covered part of the desert to the city of El Dorado, where they will subsequently save the day. I am not giving anything away, the movie was made in 1966 for God’s sake. During this ride, James Caan recites a bit of a poem that ends with “ . . . Continue reading “EL DORADO”
WITH PRIDE
When I think of my sister I remember two distinctive things. One, she taught me how to spell Wednesday. “Wed-nes-day” she said. The reason I remember this so well and so clearly is that the brief interchange shocked me. Why? Good question. You see I grew up in a family with five children and my sister is five years older than me. At dinner we sat on opposite sides of the table and we rarely spent any time together, not even fighting. I guess it shocked me because it is most likely the first memory of anyone helping me with a challenge. The second distinct memory I have is when I was 17 or 18 years old. She had moved out, gone to college and gotten a job. She asked me out to dinner. This is unique because, like I said, we rarely spent any time together. I was flattered because of the attention but also because I was doing this adult thing: Continue reading “WITH PRIDE”
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?”
POSITIVELY VALLEJO
Now I like Fridays as much as the next person. First, and because it was pay day, my father used to say, “The eagle flies today.” Second, being the end of the work week, many of us go out to blow off some steam. Now we have some great steam blowing venues here in Vallejo: Mare Island Brewery, where I was found last night for a pint. Napa Smith Brewery, where I was found earlier in the week . . . for a pint. The Townhouse, downtown, where I was found . . . okay, you got the picture.
Last Friday night was different. Last Friday night was not just about blowing off steam. It was about something much deeper and closer to the heart. Continue reading “POSITIVELY VALLEJO”
OUR TOWN
I had a lovely visit, not so long ago, with a new friend here in Vallejo. I found her conversation to be both cogent and delightful. The gin and tonics she prepared, not your garden variety. No, it seems that I fell in to the hands of a self-taught expert of sorts, and her cocktails helped sort out a few things for me. Our conversation naturally fell upon those things we have in common, none more than this lovely town we live in. I use the word town specifically because we both agreed that living here feels more and more like a town and less like a formal city. Not to say that our City is not being professionally run, since I have no details to suggest otherwise. No, it is just that . . . Continue reading “OUR TOWN”