Where Were You? 8/25/09

I wouldn’t be so presumptuous to attempt to add to the many articles and commentaries that have already come out, following the death of Ted Kennedy. But an interesting thought hit me when I learned of his passing the other night. Which I’ll get to …

The Kennedys, John, Robert, and Ted were all liberal, progressive democrats, who dedicated their lives to making America a better place. Too liberal for some, but their hearts were all in the right place when it came to causes that they felt would improve on some of the inequities in our great country. They’ve been subject to controversy, and Ted in particular had the role of poster child for the conservative right.

But there’s no denying that they gave their all for their country. These were people who didn’t need to work. The Kennedy dynasty is legendary, and their financial resources are obviously substantial. These are yachting and polo people who vacation at the huge family compound in Hyannis port, on Cape Cod. They’re as close to royalty as we get in America.

So it dawned on me the other night that the untimely deaths of the three Kennedy brothers have all warranted the dubiously notable distinction of “where were you when you heard?” These are rare, some are arguably more significant to specific groups or people, and some simply affect all of us. I think most of us remember exactly what we were doing and where we were, when we first got word of so many untimely deaths, as well as significant events over the years.

Actors and musicians seem to catch our attention … Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Keith Moon, John Bonham, Mama Cass Elliot, Dennis, then Carl Wilson, John Belushi, John Candy, Chris Farley, Gilda Radner, Johnny Carson, Ed McMahaon, Bob Hope, Frank Sinatra, Jack Benny, and Marilyn Monroe all come to mind.

And of course nobody in the world, certainly no American is likely to forget how and where they heard about the 911 attacks on American soil. I was on vacation in Maui, staying at The Whaler at Kaanapali Beach. We got a phone call at about 7 AM from my wife’s boss, who simply told us to turn on the TV. Incredibly, we tuned in just in time to see the now infamous footage of the second plane flying into the twin towers. Our vacation changed significantly, as the only topic on everyone’s mind was that America had been seriously violated, and life would never be the same.

It was a rainy July 20th 1969, and I was working in a gas station at Skyline and Sharp Park Road. I took the liberty of ignoring customers for a few minutes, and turned on the little TV I brought from home to watch the first landing on the moon. One giant step ...

I was on a break at the supermarket where I was working, on the phone with my friend Marie, on August 16th, 1977. She works in the stock market, and the ticker tape in front of her flashed a headline … “Oh my God, Elvis Presley just died,” she said. The pride of Tupelo, Mississippi had left the building for good.

I worked for Bill Graham Presents from 1977 to 1990, and was fortunate to see (and work at) hundreds of rock shows. The best place to be if you like the act is at the front of the stage. You’re obviously in the best “seat” in the house, and it’s usually a matter of keeping people from jumping onto the stage. I was stage left at the Cow Palace on December 1 1980, for what would prove to be a memorable Stevie Wonder show. He finished his main performance, left the stage, and then returned to do his encore. But there was something wrong … Stevie walked up to the mic at center stage and said something like “I have some very bad news … John Lennon was just shot and killed in New York.” He then dedicated his encore song “Happy Birthday,” which he had written for Martin Luther King, to Lennon. There wasn’t a dry eye among the 15,000 fans.

November 22nd 1963 ... I had just walked from wood shop to math class at Ben Franklin Jr. High in Daly City, CA. Our math teacher was crying when we walked in, and we soon found out why. A messenger came around to all of the classes, telling us that school was dismissed for the day … The President had been shot. I walked home to our house at 41 Grandview Ave, to find my mom and several friends from the neighborhood gathered around the little black and white TV, all of them in tears, watching live action from Dallas. John Kennedy represented hope and progress for the country. He was highly regarded, and the family was akin to royalty … John, his lovely wife Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy, and children Caroline and John-John.

JFK was shot by a sniper while his motorcade passed through downtown Dallas. America's hopes and dreams were gone in an instant. Everything came to a standstill after the Kennedy assassination. Businesses and schools remained closed for days. People stayed home from work, trips were cancelled, and radio and TV had a single focus; the assassination, the killer, his killer, and then the funeral procession. I can still picture little John Jr. (John-John) saluting, as his slain father’s casket passed by, pulled by a horse-drawn caisson. We’d lost a giant, but history would prove that he was only the first of the three Kennedy brothers who we’d lose in our lifetimes.

June 5th 1968. One week before my high school graduation. A busload of students from local high schools joined thousands of other volunteers for a day of campaigning in Sacramento. It was essentially a big rally, very positive, and the jubilant crowd was totally behind the younger brother of JFK, former Attorney General, and current U.S. Senator Robert Francis Kennedy. After a long day of traveling to Sacramento and back, the rally, and all the emotions of the day, I recall going to bed pretty early. I was asleep in my downstairs room at 244 Morton Dr. when my mom came in and woke me up with the news … “Bobby Kennedy was shot in Los Angeles.” He was mortally wounded while speaking at the Ambassador Hotel, having just won the California Primary, and died the next morning. Once again, America would be glued to the TV and radio broadcasts for the next several days. There simply wasn’t any other news. Another Kennedy had been assassinated. Bobby had been immersed in some of the biggest movements of our times; Civil rights and liberties, organized crime prosecution, death penalty laws, and played the key role in the Cuban Missile Crisis, managing to persuade Russia to turn their boats around and head home, vs. delivering the nuclear arms they had onboard to a waiting Fidel Castro. This was the peak of the cold war, and RFK saw to it that America stood her ground.

Which brings us to August 25th 2009. I’d just finished a three-hour rehearsal with the band, going through our entire set list in preparation for an upcoming event. As is currently quite common, our tech team was doing some sort of a system upgrade, and the second half of the night was mine to monitor. Meaning, I dialed into the conference bridge for an update, vs. listening to any news on the ride home. Upon arriving at home, I turned the computer on and got into my Yahoo home page. Senator Edward Kennedy, dead at 77, was the top line in the News section. The past year of his well-documented battle with brain cancer had finally been lost. He’d been looking frail, stopped going to the Senate, and if seemed like it was pretty much an inevitable event, but it’s still a shock to know that now he’s gone. The last Kennedy, younger brother to John and Bobby, uncle to Caroline and the late John Junior, and of course the patriarch of the Kennedy clan.

Unlike his big brothers, Ted was afforded a long career in politics. Forty-seven years as the senior Senator from Massachusetts, and a legacy that while not perfect in some respects, will always be regarded as significant in so many ways. Ted had many causes over the years, but the one that was always near and dear was the notion of providing healthcare to anyone who needed it. His book "Critical Condition, The Crisis in America's Health Care" was published in 1972, and he never ceased in his goal to improve on the system. He was very involved in Obama's plan, and lobbied for it until his death on Tuesday.

Ted was no stranger to controversy. Well-publicized bouts with alcohol, the women in his life, and the famous accident at Chappaquiddick that took the life of 28-year-old Mary Jo Kopechne, were not among his finest moments. But everything seemed to turn positive in his life after marrying Victoria on July 3rd 1992. We've lost the last of the three Kennedy giants, and with the loss of Ted, the Senate and the American political scene will never be the same.

For me, I've added to my list of "where were you" events with another untimely death. I think it's time to concentrate on some of the positive events on the list. Births, weddings, successes, uniquely wonderful feelings ... these are the things that belong on the "where were you" lists for all of us. I will endeavor to dwell on the good events, but there certainly have been some bad ones for our generation.

Gems and Jules

August 19^th. Memorable as my parents' anniversary ... this would have been their 61st, had they both lived to see this day. Childhood sweethearts who met in the 5th and 6th grade respectively (dad was a year older), they literally lived their entire lives together. Today’s also the day I began yet another trip to the house we miss so much in beautiful Bend, Oregon. The big house across the street from the Deschutes River that we pretty much had made to order. We miss it, and it seems almost criminal that it currently sits virtually empty, lacking our belongings and us. No furniture, no Calphalon pot rack above the big kitchen island, no fancy cutlery ready for my daily culinary creations, and most notably … no cats!

We had four, when we lived here. Annabelle the old lady kitty, who valiantly made the trip back to the Bay Area with us, only to finally give in to her 18 years of driving us crazy shortly after we moved back. Cody, the giant 28 pound Maine Coon managed to pick up diabetes after we moved to Bend, lasted a couple years, but ended up leaving us just before we moved. Our two “pound kitties” Penny and Abigail are going strong, both now pushing 12. Strange not having to close doors behind me, clean the sandbox, make sure the food and water’s out, etc. The only living things in the house this weekend are yours truly, and a couple tiny spiders I ran across hiding in corners of the rooms. I generally don’t like spiders inside, but the house is so empty, I let them be. Critter company.

Great ride up on Wednesday. Made it in eight hours flat, which is equal to my best time ever. I left a foggy overcast morning in the City, and by the time I hit Fairfield it was in the 80’s. Redding was about 103, and Lake Shasta was 107. Sunroof open, air conditioning on, great day for a little 500-mile cruise. The only other time I’ve done this in eight hours was when I was initially moving the four cats up, 3 days prior to Risa, and 4 days before the movers would arrive with our 18,500 pounds of “stuff.” How did we possibly amass nearly ten TONS of STUFF? George Carlin once did a whole stand up bit about our need as a society to keep moving to bigger and bigger houses, because we keep getting more and more stuff, and need more room to store it. Interesting concept, generally pretty true.

I’m rarely more than 10 MPH over the speed limit, so the only variables are how many stops I make along the way, and of course how many trucks I get stuck behind. On this trip, it was two “comfort” stops, owing to the five 12-ounce diet Cokes I drank, plus the obligatory 10 minute stop for a smoked turkey on a Dutch crunch roll from Granzella’s Deli in Williams, CA. I’ve written about this place before, but suffice it to say that it’s (1) the law, that you have to stop here for a sandwich when you’re passing through, and (2) it’s not any great secret … this place is packed from opening ‘til closing, every day. And there’s NO other reason to stop in Williams other than for gas and/or Granzella’s. Great spot, not to be missed.
I’ve written extensively about this trip, so I won’t bore you with it again. But a couple things stood out; I think the stretch of high plains just outside of Weed, as you head toward Klamath Falls, is one of the prettiest places on the planet. It’s almost like something you’d see on Mars … varying heights of small peaks for miles and miles in every direction, ultimately becoming the Cascades in all their splendor. And to the right, you’re right at the base of Mt. Shasta, which is absolutely breathtaking year-round. A little further along and there’s a stretch of about ten miles where you parallel irrigation creeks on both sides of the road. This is a particularly beautiful stretch, and it’s not uncommon to see an eagle, a great blue heron, and always an array of ducks and egrets. A bird watcher’s delight, to be sure.

Upper Klamath Lake (and there is no “lower” to the best of my knowledge), took on a particularly serene look on this day. This is a huge lake, very shallow so there’s rarely any watercraft on it, and it varies from eerily mysterious and ominous looking, to the way it looked today, which was spectacular. Not a ripple anywhere ... totally calm, blue, and almost inviting.

The trek up Highway 97 was uneventful, save for one odd thought. It’s inevitable that you’ll be stuck behind a truck from time to time, and you get to know where the passing lanes are and look forward to them with glee. For several miles, I found myself behind a huge truck that was hauling what seemed to be a million bales of hay. Obviously, hay is dry, and it’s going to blow off to some extent when it’s in transit at 55 miles per hour. But as I watched this truck’s hay blowing off the truck at a fairly good clip for mile after mile, I wondered just how much he’d lose on any given trip? I wonder if this is “shrinkage” that the farmers count on. Will he lose the equivalent of a bale in an afternoon? Maybe several bales. If you’re the buyer, are you going to get less hay if you get one of the outer bales that are losing bits and pieces all day long? I suppose in the grand scheme of things, this is just another random thought that crept into my head during my 500-mile journey north. The mind’s a wonderful thing.

First night in town, and I couldn’t resist a cruise through the Downtown area, even though I’d just spent eight hours traversing the 512 miles from the Bay Area. I didn’t know what I wanted for dinner until it hit me, about half way up Bond Street; Olde Towne Pizza. I grew up with Toto’s pizza in Daly City. A Toto’s #2 (salami, sausage, mushroom) was the only way to go. Always. Bend doesn’t have a Toto’s, but Olde Towne is definitely the best in town. I arrived at 8:50, and it looked like they were about to close. They were. Initially they said I could only get slices, but the pizza cook said if it was a “to go” order, he’d be happy to make it. After all, they didn’t officially close for another ten minutes! This guy hand-tossed a perfect crust, applied all the fresh ingredients, and basically approached it like it was his first pizza of the day. And I can only assume that he’d probably been tossing crusts for the past eight hours. I appreciate good customer service. I cook most nights, and I totally love being cooked for (as do ALL chefs, by the way). This guy went out of his way, the rest of the staff was all friendly, and the experience is exactly what makes me return to this place over and over. My medium size mushroom and salami pizza lasted me for three days of varying combinations of dinner, lunch, and yes … breakfast on one morning.

This trip was predicated by a few house chores that I needed to get going before the rain, snow, and winter elements took hold. Winters here can be anywhere from mild to ridiculous, and they’re totally unpredictable. After four years of snow and sun, the front outside of the house needs painting. I was thinking that it would only be the “trim,” but a gentleman who knows this stuff way better than I do, that it needs some serious attention, convinced me. So we’re getting the full treatment on the front fascia … power wash, caulking, scraping, priming, and of course painting.

Chores done, today I get to go for a ride and explore the high desert of Central Oregon. I began the day by heading south, up and over the freeway and out Knott Road. This is the ride I used to take twice a day, while “commuting” (this has taken on a whole new meaning, being back in the Bay Area!) to work and back. One of the landmarks I’d pass every day was two llamas, a white and tan one, and his constant companion, a brown one. And I have no idea if they’re boy llamas, girl llamas, or whatever. But they’re always within a few feet of one another, somewhere in this big open field. Inseparable buddies that spend every day together in a big open field, which I assume is their private turf. But it’s an interesting constant … they’re always there … day, night, rain, snow, or 90 degree heat like today. On this day, I found them about 10 feet apart, under a shade tree, one standing, one lying down. Together, as always. Buds.

This day also took me to the lodge and ski lift area at Mt. Bachelor. Very different scene in the summer, when the lot’s only got a handful of cars … tourists who ride the lift to the peak and back. Today’s an 80-degree day in the big parking lot that’s commonly in the teens or less throughout most of the winter. Mt. Bachelor features some of the best skiing in the western U.S., and it does a great business all winter. But summer’s different.

Two other chores for this trip were to check on some water that seemed to not be draining along side of the house, and to pick out some trees for the yard. We’d originally planned to copy our next door neighbors and plant some aspens, but we discovered that like the beautiful poplar that ate our backyard in Gilroy, they tend to send out roots for miles in every direction. I took a ride to Redmond with our gardener Alonso, and with the help of a very knowledgeable nursery worker, we decided on a slightly different aspen that doesn’t send out roots, and a non fruit bearing pear tree, which is going to provide shade, look gorgeous, and give us some beautiful flowering branches in the spring. The yard’s looking gorgeous. All the little plants and bushes I put in a couple years ago, are growing and thriving. I find it an honor to provide a place for the bees to congregate, as they’re currently doing in the back corner of the yard, on one of the little flowering bushes that I took a wild guess on two summers ago. My maple tree is in full summer bloom, and looks phenomenally healthy. The lawn’s impeccable, no cracks on the patio, both the barbeques are working fine … life is beautiful in the backyard.

Like with any new house, the yard started out as a big dirt lot, with a little 10 by 10 “patio.” I have two huge barbeques, a smoker, big patio table that seats six, lounge chairs, etc. First up, a much bigger patio. I opted for 20 feet deep and 30 feet wide. Big enough to enjoy all the yard toys do some summer entertaining, but still leaving lots of room for lawn, plants, a gravel walkway, and trees. I initially planted two trees; a maple, which is thriving and gorgeous, and another one I can’t remember, which lasted one season and never came back in bloom. But today, we added three new trees, which Alonso did a great job placing along the fence, and in the far end of the yard. Two aspens and a beautiful Aristocrat Pear have joined the rest of the foliage in the yard. Since the bees love the purple bushes so much, I wonder if we’ll attract a partridge to the pear tree this winter?

While Alonso was struggling with the rocks and volcanic ground in his tree-planting endeavor, I cruised up to Terrebonne where my friend Bob had entered his truck in the annual “Cruz In” car show. Awesome cars! Hot rods, old classics, real old classics, muscle cars, an incredible looking Bentley, customized pickups, and a completely hand built motorcycle that was really very cool.

Another local gem was my choice for lunch on Thursday and again on Saturday. It’s called Soba, and it’s as close as you’re going to get to a pho-like Asian soup in Bend. I’ve tried other things on the menu, and everything’s good … the Mandarin Chicken Salad in particular, is always a winner. But I usually opt for the Asian Noodle Soup, which you can “customize” to your likes; Vegetarian, won ton, chicken, or any combination, and your choice of noodles. Wednesday’s soup at the Soba in Sisters was with won ton, Saturday’s at the Bend restaurant was with chicken, and both were ordered with soba buckwheat noodles. Like the pho that we all love so much in the Bay Area, it’s a tasty, healthy and filling meal for about six bucks.

I had an ulterior motive for being in downtown Bend on Saturday … no trip is complete without hitting up Powell’s for some great candy. My co-workers look forward to me taking these trips, because they know the department candy bowl will be restocked on Monday morning. I managed to escape with thirty-two dollars worth of candy this time. Last trip ran me over fifty, as I recall. Avid readers and friends know that I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but there’s a couple that get me every time … I’m a sucker for Charleston Chews (bought vanilla and chocolate bars and a box of individual sized), Rocky Roads, and the best candy bar ever made … U-No’s. Also picked up some Necco Wafers, Mallo Cups, Abba-Zabbas, and a favorite from my childhood … Flicks. These were “movie candies” when I was growing up. Saturday afternoon matinees at the Serra Theater always included a round tube of Flicks. We used to drop them in our Cokes, and when you got to the bottom of the drink you’d have a bunch of semi-frozen chocolate Flicks. I relayed this story to the young guy at the counter at Powell’s, and he looked at me like I was nuts. Trust me … I wasn’t the only one who did this. Works great with Milk Duds and Chocolate Raisins too.

Saturday night was a special dinner gathering. It’s always a treat to see any combination of our best friends up here, and this evening’s gathering at a new restaurant called “Jules” included Bob and Chris, Chuck and Barb, and John and Cathy Connelly. Jules is a recent addition to Wall Street, occupying a spot that used to be a wine and cheese bar, next to the newly revamped 900 Wall. Jules features mostly Mediterranean foods, lots of “small plates,” and a couple of specials. Tonight’s included a quail entrée, and a sockeye salmon, but I opted for the chicken kebab with rice pilaf. Great entrée, which followed several killer appetizers of hummus, babaganoush, pita slices, and a bread/olive oil/crushed almond dip that was incredible. Highly recommended, great new downtown spot.

Sunday morning meant once again saying goodbye to Bend (which interestingly was originally called “Farewell Bend” until the early 1900’s), and 512 miles back to the Bay Area. Next trip’s in late September, then possibly not until the Spring of 2010. The Siskiyou are generally no fun to drive in the winter, and a preponderance of ice from K.Falls north makes for a long slippery trek. But this was a good trip. Got everything done that needed doing, had a great time at the house, saw lots of friends, and got a chance to relax a bit. Amazing how I’ve grown to enjoy this ride. It’s partially because I’m driving up to the house we like so much, but it’s also a great chance to reflect on the beautiful scenery of Northern California and Central Oregon. And it always seems to give me a new topic for this blog!

Impromptu Sunday in Woodside

After a horrendous couple weeks featuring several major system outages at work (I manage worldwide telecom for a high tech firm), I was looking forward to this past weekend. At least the tail end of it, since my Saturday was pretty much going to be shot from the get-go. The last of the system patches were to be applied beginning at 7 PM on Friday, and were projected to take about six hours. The six hours stretched into 6 AM the next morning, meaning I was up and technically "working" from 6 AM Friday 'til 6 AM Saturday. Not my first choice of how to spend a Friday night, but such is life.

So on a whim, I called my sister on Sunday just to say hi, and her opening words were "come over!" My sister and her friend Celeste are dancers (Celeste is also a choreographer) and their idea of a fun afternoon is to tap dance on the square of plywood flooring that lives in the room downstairs. Colleen and her husband John live in Woodside, up the hill behind Alice's Restaurant, which is a very fun restaurant (as you might imagine) and also a huge weekend hangout for motorcyclists of every shape and variety. Harleys, Yamaha R1's that are totally tricked out and track-ready, BMW R1200 RT fullly loaded touring sport bikes, Triumph cruisers, and Honda Gold Wings adorn the parking lots on both sides of the intersection formed by Highways 84 and 35. I've personally owned a half dozen bikes over the years and would love to get another one, but the boss is adamantly opposed. I have plenty of toys, this one can be her win.

A side note on the "bikes" at the afore-mentioned intersection ... my former boss Bruce from Molecular Dynamics, was a marathon bicyclist. He'd ride his bike 25 miles each direction to work and back most days, with an occasional extra 50 miles up and down Mt. Hamilton just to warm up a little. On one of his way-too-common Sunday afternoon century rides (100 miles), he rode up and down Highway 84. This is a steep, incredibly curvy stretch of road, which is among the reason the (motor-powered) cyclists love it. And the cops love to tag 'em and add to the small community of Woodside's financial kitty. Bruce was flying down Hwy 84 one Sunday and was pulled over by a local gendarme, who clocked him at nearly 50 mph (in a 35 zone) while heading down the hill. Being a polite sort, he accepted the ticket, but urged the cop to concentrate on the Suzuki and Yamaha crowd who took this hill at twice that speed. Easy pickin's, city revenue, I suppose.

Anyway, the decision was easy, of course we'd come up to visit. And to make it even more fun, our friend Marie would join us as well. Marie and I have been friends for 35 years or so, and she's one of my favorite people of all time. Celeste is a "newer" friend who I've only known for about 22 years. I choose my friends carefully and hang onto them forever.

Colleen had planned to make a salad and do some stuffed zucchini from her garden. Being the wise-ass-know-it-all cook of the family, I offered to help her with the zucchini or provide a recipe. Good thing she declined, as her sausage stuffed giant zucchini was some of the best I've ever had. Celeste through together a wonderfully balanced mixed green salad with a simple vinaigrette, which was perfect and totally hit the spot.

Rum and Coke's progressed to a wonderful Ridge Zinfandel, which Colleen loves and hordes. I was honored. She actually dragged out a 1995 Silver Oak Alexander Valley and asked which we'd prefer ... her favorite being the Ridge. Good choice, we devoured it.

I had minimal time to prepare, so I opted for a Lunardi's Boston Cream, and made my variation of a Moroccan Chicken and Couscous Salad. I originally found this on Cooks.com, but like most of my dishes, modified it over the years to the way I like it. Goes something like this:

Main Ingredients

3 cups of chicken broth (I used Swanson's low sodium fat-free)

1 1/2 cups of dry uncooked couscous (buy it in bulk, it's very versatile)

2 tablespoons of chopped Italian parsley

1 medium red bell pepper, chopped

2 cups of snow peas, fresh or frozen, cooked to al dente (blanched)

2 tablespoons of currants or raisins (currants work better if you can get them)

3 scallions, finely chopped

1/2 teaspoon of dried thyme

1/4 cup of toasted almonds, chopped coarse

Dressing

2 tablespoons of lemon juice

2 tablespoons of olive oil

1 teaspoon of curry powder

- or - 1/2 tsp of curry powder and a 1/2 tsp of Ras El Hanout, which is what I use

1/4 teaspoon of black pepper

1/4 teaspoon of crushed red pepper flakes

Chicken
1 whole or two half boneless skinless breasts, seasoned with lemon pepper, cooked and cut into 1/2 inch diced chunks

Technique

1. Bring the chicken broth to a boil, stir in the couscous, parsley and thyme. Return to a boil, remove from the heat, stir, cover, let stand for 5 minutes. Stir to combine, after 5 minutes.

2. In a large bowl, whisk the dressing ingredients together

3. Add the couscous, add the snow peas, chicken, scallions, red pepper, and currants, stir to combine all the ingredients

4. Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour, top with a sprinkle of toasted walnuts

Best garnish is a real Moroccan harissa, which can be purchased from Zamouri Spices (and elsewhere). Great stuff - warn your guests that it's a tad spicy before they spoon on a couple tablespoons of it.

Great food, best of friends, wonderful way to spend a warm Sunday afternoon.

A Bend Fourth

Our friends Barb and Chuck have arguably the best view of the fireworks in Bend, OR. And they've made a tradition of putting on an annual barbeque that consistently shines as brightly as the fireworks that light up the sky over Pilot Butte. This year's festivities were the best yet, and this event just keeps getting better. We saw a number of old friends, met some new ones, and made friends with a gorgeous golden retriever named Buster, who several people threatened to kidnap and take home with them. In light of the fact that Buster's "people" are gone more than home, this would be an easy task, and was nearly pulled off!

Guests brought a wonderful array of appetizers, wines, beer, desserts, etc. Chuck, who's a master bartender kept busy shaking and serving martinis and margaritas. I had no problem with the two Kettle One's with twists, but called it quits there, since it was in fact the 4th, and there were nuts on the road, cops having a heyday pulling them over, plus my own precious cargo riding with me. I left the party sober at 11:30, which is how I intended. Holidays in particular are great days to either stay at home, or plan to be among the safe and sane on the road. It's amateur night, and all the crazies seem to crawl out of the woodwork with half a heat on. Not me.

Pilot Butte sticks up like the hump on a Dromedary camel, smack dab in the middle of Bend. This is Oregon's high desert, and "humps" of any kind are as rare as the water that camels can go so far without. This one rises about 500 feet above the surrounding 3600 foot elevation of this part of Central Oregon. And it's the ideal spot for what's advertised as the biggest 4th of July display in Oregon. It's a good one. Barb and Chuck live on Awbrey Butte (golf country), and their street provides the perfect vantage point for watching the fireworks.

One of the more interesting aspects of moving to Oregon, was the huge difference in the length of days and nights, over our former home in Northern California. The difference of 500 miles makes for way shorter winter days, and amazingly long summer days and much later sunsets. Our first year up there was quite an eye-opener. We parked in a parking lot on the south side of Pilot Butte, assuming the fireworks would start around 8, as is the case in the Bay Area. We were shocked to learn that we had another two hour wait, as it wouldn't be dark until 10! The sun's up a little after 4:30 AM, and it's light out well after 9:30 in the high desert. But it's always worth the wait, and the Pilot Butte fireworks consistently draw the usual oooh's and aaah's from the crowd, whether watching them live from on the Butte, or from virtually anywhere in town, since they're visible from all over the compact community of 75,000 people.

Since we've virtually cleaned out our house, and moved all of our possessions (including all my cooking supplies) to either the current residence on the San Francisco peninsula, or into boxes in the garage. The intent was to rent the house out, but each time we visit it just gets tougher and tougher to leave it, and I want it to remain our home. I was born and raised, and currently live and work in the Bay Area, but my home has become Bend.

So as my utensil and cooking supplies were limited, I opted to do ribs. I brought a decent supply of my Rubbit dry rub with me, as well as a couple baking trays, tin foil, and a few assorted goodies. I bought a package of three full baby back ribs from Costco, which I maintain is the best meat and fish you can get, short of being a restaurant or the government. Butcher Bob, who was my instructor for the Butchery class at the California Culinary Academy, convinced us of this fact, which was based on 30 years as a meat cutter before his "second career" as an instructor at the CCA.

The plan was to marinate them overnight, start them on the (real) barbeque for about an hour, then apply a mop to them, wrap them up, and finish them low and slow in the oven.

My Baby Back Ribs
RUBBIT Dry Rub, ingredients:
3 parts: paprika, coarse salt, black pepper
2 parts: Coleman's dry mustard, any generic Italian seasoning, granulated garlic, granulated onion
1 part cayenne powder

RUBBIT Mop ingredients:
2 tablespoons of RUBBIT dry rub, 2 tablespoons of tomato paste, cup of apple cider (or juice), 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce, 2 tablespoons brown sugar
- Sprinkle and RUB IN a few tablespoons of the dry rub, double wrap in aluminum foil, refrigerate overnight.
- In the morning, take the ribs out of the refrigerator and allow to come to room temperature an hour before they'll hit the BBQ.
- Prepare a BBQ (gas works, charcoal with mesquite is better). Move the coals to one side and put the ribs OFF HEAT, fat side down. Temperature should be 200-250 degrees.
- Cook for 30 minutes, watching the temperature, turn over and cook another 30 minutes.

- Prepare the mop: In a small saucepan, combine the ingredients and bring to a simmer.
- Preheat your indoor oven to 275 degrees.
- Line a cookie sheet with foil to lay the ribs on.
- Transfer the ribs to the sheet, coat both sides with the mop, STACK them on top of each other, wrap securely in a couple layers of foil.
- Cook the ribs, wrapped in foil, without disturbing them, at 275 degrees, for 3 full hours.
- Remove from the oven, allow them to settle for 15 minutes, remove from the foil, brush another layer of mop (or BBQ sauce of your choice) on top, cut either individually or 3 to 4 rib pieces to serve.

There's nothing better than a great cole slaw and/or cornbread muffins with these, but you're on your own for sides. The process is what counts - overnight marinating, start them at room temperature, cook OFF HEAT on the BBQ, wrap them in foil, low heat for 3 hours in the oven.

I brought 3 full racks, which came to just shy of eight pounds. The 14 guests devoured them in about a half hour, so I'm assuming they were good ...

Pan-Asian Soba Noodle Soup

I love Asian soups ... all of them. Never met one that I haven't totally enjoyed. I could eat Vietnamese pho every day, and likely never get tired of it. Starts with a rich beef broth, served over flat rice noodles, with a garnish of sliced jalapeno, Thai basil, and bean sprouts, topped with a squeeze of lime and a spritz of Sriacha hot sauce. I wrote a whole blog piece on it a few months ago, and the feedback has been amazing. If you live where you can get pho, consider yourself lucky. I live on the San Francisco peninsula, and in some areas there is literally a pho shop on every corner. But our other house is Central Oregon, and there's one Vietnamese pho restaurant in the entire county.

Thai soups are another favorite. The classic coconut milk and lemon grass concoctions are phenomenal. Chinese sweet and sour, won ton, egg drop, and sizzling rice soups are all awesome. Just as the salsa is a common barometer of what your meal's going to taste like in a Mexican restaurant, the sweet & sour soup serves a similar function in a Chinese restaurant. If it's great, you're probably in for a treat for the entire meal.



I believe soups are a state of mind (a phrase I stole from author Kathleen Flinn, but it's absolutely true). There aren't a lot of rules, and once you know your way around a stock pot, all's fair, assuming you think through the flavor combinations. Last night's soup was going to be based around a package of buckwheat Soba noodles that I'd picked up over the weekend at a shop in The Ferry Building, on San Francisco's Embarcadero. It would be chicken based, with non fat chicken broth and Better Than Bouillon chicken broth concentrate, the combination of which makes for a rich tasty base. I commonly use a white onion with this variety of soup, which I slice wafer thin and soak in cold water for 30 minutes, before adding it to the stock pot. This is a technique that comes from making pho, and makes for a less pungent onion that cooks faster in the broth. Cilantro and basil for flavor, a chunk of chopped ginger, as well as a teaspoon each of red and green curry paste. The combination of the two makes for a richer taste and it's an acceptable "hot." I also used a can of water chestnuts because it sounded like a good idea. No other spices, no salt or pepper, no soy sauce, just what's listed below. I used chicken and chicken broth(s), but the other flavors in the soup would probably lend themselves to a more vegan variety, should you desire.

Ingredients

1 lb chicken boneless skinless chicken breast

1/2 bunch of cilantro, chopped

1/2 bunch of basil, chopped

1 medium white onion, sliced in half, then very thinly sliced

small (1 x 2") piece of ginger, peeled, chopped fine

small can of water chestnuts, drained

49 oz can of Swanson's fat-free chicken stock, plus a can of water

1 tablespoon of "Better Than Bouillon" chicken stock concentrate

1 teaspoon each of red and green Thai curry paste

Package of buckwheat Soba Noodles

Garnishes of sliced jalapeno, limes, Sriacha hot pepper sauce.

Process

Marinate the chicken for an hour with an Indian tandoori spice (if you have some ... lemon pepper, a light curry powder, paprika, or plain salt and pepper works fine)

Soak the sliced onion in cold water for 30 minutes

Cook the chicken in a frying pan, 'til it's still a little pink in the middle. Chop into 1/2" chunks

In a medium stock pot, bring the stock, concentrate, and can of water to a rolling boil over medium high heat

Add the chicken chunks, ginger, curry pastes, return to a boil

Add cilantro, basil, water chestnuts, return to a boil

Drain the water from the soaking onion, add to the pot, lower the heat and bring to a simmer

Cook the noodles

Preparing Soba noodles is like many things in life ... very easy, when you know how to do it. I use my pasta pot with the colander insert, which makes draining and rinsing them easy. Boil 8 cups of water, add the noodles and return to a boil. When the water gets close to boiling over, add another cup of cold water, return to a boil, simmer 5 minutes, drain and rinse with cold water.

Serve the noodles in a soup bowl, ladle soup on top, provide garnishes and toppings. Great stuff, works well for leftovers, lo-cal, virtually no fat, major flavors.

Sunday BBQ

First ingredient for any Sunday barbeque ... and this one was no exception ... martinis.

My preference is Tanqueray 10, but Sapphire works magic too. To answer the highly debatable question of gin vs. vodka, I have this to say: Gin is a classic martini, there's no denying. My friend John and I will fight to the death over this seemingly simple point. It's the way God intended (I asked her, trust me on this one). But you'll notice from the picture that I've already deviated from the "classic" by adding a twist of lemon to the mix, vs. the traditional olive(s). I don't do olives, ever, for any reason, and in the case of a martini ... it's my gin, and I'll put whatever I want in it. Vodka martinis are awesome. I prefer to think of it as a mood thing, vs. one liquor over the other. Belvedere and Grey Goose make for wonderful martinis. Up, with a twist ... But for today's festivities, Bombay Sapphire was a total hit.

Tonight we were graced with a visit from friends Howie and Angela. I've known Howie since seventh grade, when we attended Ben Franklin Junior High School together in Daly City. We were casual friends in Jr. and High school, but have become the best of friends over the past 15 years or so. Howie and I are members of the "Weasels," which is a group of about 15 of us who've known each other since grammar school, and get together a few times a year. I'm not going to explain how the name "weasels" came about ... send me an email if you're dying to know. Howie and I live ten minutes apart so I get to see more of him. We're also both certifiable "car nuts," meaning we've spent way too much money and time on four wheeled toys over the years. When we moved to Bend in 2005, I discovered that there was not an Acura dealer in the area, and the front wheel drive on my beautiful blue TL was totally out of place in the ice and snow of Central Oregon. Howie's one of my very best friends, and I had no hesitation selling him the Acura. As much as I hated parting with it, much like a Great Dane that you just can't move into a 600 square foot studio apartment with, as much as you love the beast ... it went to a perfect home. And it still lives there.

Angela is a friend from massage school days. We met and immediately bonded in our Fundamentals of Massage class on 4/4/04 (tough to forget anniversary date). Angela's one of our core group of friends, and has been so since we met her. She, Rebecca and Nicole have made 3 trips to visit in Bend ... a record among our buddies. And one of the pluses of living in the Bay Area again is having her nearby and able to come over for impromptu barbeques like this one. Angela brought "mookies" for us tonight, which she and her mom America made earlier in the day. These are the most incredible oatmeal'ish cookies on the planet. They're so good and so rich that I simply don't want to know what's in them, or I would either make them for myself, or not eat them after finding out all the bad stuff in them.

My original dinner thought was a pan of lasagna, per Howie's suggestion. WolffDen 10 is coming up in September, and I think I'm going to do lasagna for the 15 of us, so I thought maybe I'd break it in tonight. But since it was just shy of 100 degrees out, I couldn't fathom spending that much time doing prep work, and the though of having the oven on that long wasn't appealing either!

So ... I opted for some beautiful NY steaks from the wonderful Lunardi's Market down the street. Lunardi's is painfully close to a Draeger's or Andronico's in quality and gourmet snob level, but slightly more approachable for those of us who can't afford a Bentley or Porsche Turbo. French fries compliments of Ore-Ida, cole slaw that garnered much praise, and a nice collection of reds from Paso Robles rounded out a great meal with the very best of company.

Appetizers - smoked gouda, brie, water crackers (plain and cracked pepper)

Chipotle Rubbit NY Steaks.

Marinated for 4 hours in: My "Rubbit" rub, which is: 2 parts each of paprika, salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, Coleman's dry mustard, 1 part each generic dried Italian seasoning, 1/2 part cayenne pepper, plus a sprinkling of real chipotle powder, extra salt.

TDF Cole Slaw (TDF=To Die For, he says humbly)

Shredded 1/2 heads of white and purple cabbage

2 carrots, shredded, cut into matchsticks

2 ribs of celery, chopped

1/2 cup of dried unsalted peanuts

1/2 a small white onion, chopped

tablespoon of celery seed

1/2 teaspoon of crushed red pepper flakes

Salt and pepper to taste

Cole Slaw Dressing:

2 tablespoons of light Best Foods mayo

2 tablespoons of fat free sour cream

2 tablespoons of light brown sugar

1/4 - 1/2 cup of white vinegar (to taste, your call)

Ore-Ida Steak Fries

Too hot today to do these from scratch - Ore-Ida does them perfect!

Dessert

Did I mention it was hot today? Angela's mom's famous "Mookies." Killer cookies.

The Atlanta Girls

Before buying the house in Bend, we came very close to moving to the Atlanta area. Specifically up around Roswell or Alpharetta, both of which are about 25 miles north of the city of Atlanta. And while there are many compelling reasons to live in the beautiful state of Georgia, the big "draw" was a few awesome ladies (and their significant others) who I'd met in my years in telecom in the Silicon Valley.

The connection came about via audio conferencing services, which many of you understand, but some may not. Essentially, it's a way to bridge anywhere from a few to a few hundred callers on a single conference call. In the "early days" it was just audio, but it's evolved into a very complex business that features document sharing, controlling other users' desktops, audio, video and web combinations, etc. It's an incredible tool, and the bigger companies like Premiere Conferencing and WebEx have become huge leaders in the field.

The first of the Atlanta girls was a nice young lady named Stella. I received a "cold call" from her, pitching a new conferencing service that would outperform and undercut anything we were using. I was managing telecom and networks at Pure Software at the time, and by pure coincidence, I needed the service, and I knew we were paying too much for what we'd been using. So we scheduled a meeting, and Stella came into the conference room like a whirlwind, launched into her pitch, undercut the competition while offering better services, no contract or annual commit level - just try the service and we'll take it from there. Ok? Fine ... now let's go to lunch. My recollection is that we went to the Lion and Compass in Sunnyvale. Stella had done her homework - for a first time visitor to the area, she'd scoped out the restaurants and picked one of the hottest spots for lunchtime networking in the Silicon Valley. Very, very personable, which was something I'd find with all of the Atlanta girls, who I'd meet subsequently.

I didn't know it at the time, but the "support" group that would answer the phones at Stella's company would actually become some of my best friends in the next couple of years. As it turns out, the people answering the phones were a few of the founders of the company, and would go on to build and sell off several more similar companies over the years. Names like "Marlene, Karen, and Carolyn" would make recurring appearances on the other end of the phone, but I had no idea that they were the company owners.

I tend to take good vendors with me from company to company, and so it was with Stella's conferencing services. Pure was bought by Rational, and her account immediately quadrupled. When I moved to Cisco, I brought the service to them as well. Cisco had their own internal conferencing bridges so it wasn't a huge deal for Stella, but I'm sure it helped pay the bills back in Roswell. She was a single mom, and accounts like Rational Software and Cisco Systems are real nice feathers in your proverbial bonnet.

When I left Cisco and went to work for Network Appliance (now Netapp), I fully intended to bring Stella's services with me. But a mere week into my tenure there, a co-worker arranged a conference with who she described as a pesty salesperson who'd been bugging them about handling their conferencing business. I agreed to the meeting, fully expecting to listen to the pitch, and send her on her merry way. This was my first meeting with Donna, who was with a newly-formed conference company that had great rates, attractive contract provisions, and they had a secret weapon ... they had Donna. We became fast friends, and it wasn't long until I discovered that this "new company" had the same lineage as Stella's old company ... same founders, same inside support people, only better rates ... and Donna.

My main inside contact was a wonderful lady named Marlene. She's one of the primary reasons that the companies they formed did so well. Customer service is a rare commodity, and Marlene and her "girls" are the best I've ever run across, and I deal with a lot of vendors.

Verneata, Karen, Carolyn, Donna, Marlene

About a year into the relationship with Donna, Marlene, Karen, Verneata and Carolyn, they all decided to come out to the west coast for a little trip to the wine country. We arranged to meet them in the gift shop at Silver Oak, one of our favorites. The first meeting with them was magic. It was like we'd been friends for decades. Wonderful women, excellent husbands and significant others, and the day couldn't have been better. A few of our local friends joined us as well, and it turned out to be a very memorable one. We ended up visiting several wineries, and ended up at Tra Vigne in St. Helena for a late lunch, early dinner. This was the third and last time I'll eat at this restaurant, which has a huge following and for some mysterious reason, a great reputation. I've had three experiences with terrible service, mediocre food, and ridiculous prices. Never again. But spending the day with these ladies and our friends was nothing short of magical.

My job allowed me to visit Atlanta (among other places around the country) several times a year. I'd always time my visits around a weekend, so I could spend time with the Atlanta girls. I managed to attend a couple of their company parties, a phenomenal grand opening of their new office complex (which was a weekend-long event), and always had a phenomenal time. A couple "firsts" on this trip were sweet tea and peach cobbler. You have to go to the south for both of these, to get the real deal. I did, had them many times since, and it represents a couple of the unmistakably southern things that I came to love.

We actually made a couple trips where we spent entire days with realtors, as we were seriously considering a move there. Houses like the one picture here, cost about half what they do in the Silicon Valley. It ended up being a lot farther east than we wanted to venture, but Roswell and Alpharetta are spectacular, and the people we met are some of the nicest I've ever encountered.

I don't get to see these girls too often since we moved to Oregon, and many have left the business and gone on to other successful ventures. We had a rare treat recently when Carolyn (the founder of several of the companies I mentioned) was in California on business. She emailed and asked if we were available. Being "available" was never in question ... the only question was what would I cook for her and her co-worker from Phoenix? Carolyn confirmed that they're both extremely "non-picky" and anything I made would be fine. I'm accustomed to some very picky eaters (all cooks are), so it's a treat when I get to "play."

Dinner for Carolyn went like this:

- Loin lamb chops marinated in olive oil, garlic, and fresh rosemary, cooked on the BBQ.

- Alaskan scallops dusted in cornmeal, quick fried, and served with chipotle aioli.

- Risotto with brown Italian mushrooms, arugula, white wine, and parmesan cheese.

- Salad of mixed greens, Mandarin oranges, and a light balsamic vinaigrette.

- And a multitude of great Paso Robles wines, which has become my new fave.

Of course I took advantage of Twitter and Facebook and made all of the Atlanta girls jealous by posting the meal contents. I suspect I'll see a few more of them in the future!

I adore these women, and keep in contact with several of them, unfortunately not with all of them. I hate losing track of people, and regardless of whether they still see one-another, I need to track the rest of them down. But Carolyn, Marlene, and Donna and I have always stayed in close contact, and I "hear" from several of them via Facebook as well. So I know they're out there, just involved in their lives and families, which is a good thing. They all know I'm thinking about them, and how much I care about them.

Our friend Trudy asked Carolyn an interesting question at Tra Vigne in St. Helena. Quite simply, she asked "what's it mean to be a Southern lady?" Carolyn replied, "We are ladies, we say y'all, we say I'm "fixin'" to do something, and we're proud to be Southern." Couldn't say it any better. They're all ladies, they're my friends, and I love every one of them.

~~~ And a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY Donna! ~~~