First Annual Lee Road Music Hop

     Page One Hundred Fifty-Two.
     A couple of night ago, I had way too much fun. That much fun should be absolutely illegal.
     My day job is managing a beauty salon on Lee Road - a vibrant street with many small restaurants and pubs. Last Friday evening, a Cleveland Heights non-profit civic organization planned a street festival on Lee Road and arranged 29 live musical acts to perform in various venues: those same pubs, restaurants and the large library at the end of the commercial district. All the retail businesses and services were asked to stay open late and do anything they could to add to the effervescent atmosphere. The party began at 6PM and ended at 10PM with the after party starting at 10 at the largest bar on the strip and going until all hours.
     Alma's Healthy Hair Clinic stayed open very late -10.30PM. We handed out 20 pounds of free chocolate, sold Boy Scout popcorn and I gave haircuts in the window. I was amazed as people strolled by. They stopped, stared, pointed, smiled and often waved. It was as if they'd never seen anybody give or receive a haircut before. I understood some of this behavior, especially as the evening wore on and people clearly had more alcohol in their systems. But early on, when the families with small children waved, I was really surprised. Granted, our windows are elevated by a couple of feet, so it really was like being on a stage, but still.
     My models, two men and two women were quite attractive, and I looked sort of rock 'n rolly. So maybe it was just the zeitgeist of the evening. Whatever. This morning as I was browsing in the library, a perfectly pleasant college-aged gentleman walked past me, stared, smiled and said, "weren't you the guy giving haircuts in the window last Friday night?"
     "Yeah."
     "That was cool."
     It's so easy to make people happy sometimes. 

On Putting A Dog To Sleep

     Page One Hundred Fifty-One.
     I'm doing some dog-sitting this weekend. I'm here right now while Mommy and Daddy are in Nicaragua visiting daughter #1 and her family. Next weekend I'll be back here, again, while they visit daughter #2 and her boyfriend in New York City. I've been this family's dog-sitter for maybe sixteen or seventeen years or longer. And, in fact, once during the late-90's, I stayed here one long weekend baby-sitting both girls while Mommy and Daddy were off trotting around the globe somewhere. So, I'm quite close and friendly with this family.
     Last week, I accompanied mom as she put the older of their two dogs down. Dad was out of town and the whole family knows that I care about these animals practically as much as they do. Mom needed some emotional support, of course, so she called me. It's always horrible to put an animal to sleep. This particular dog was a fourteen year old collie. That's really a long life for a large dog. I think she could've been put down earlier, months earlier. But, oh well.
     A couple of days ago I stopped by and spoke with dad. He thanked me for going with mom and then told me it was really his fault that Wanda wasn't put down a few weeks earlier. He's a doctor and changed Wanda's medicines. He thought those med changes might buy her some months. Then he promptly went out of town on business. Wanda didn't improve and in fact, got worse. To back up, over the course of the last few months, both girls came in town to say good-bye to their beloved pet. So, everybody's been seeing this coming for a while. The problem has been determining when Wanda's pain was really affecting her quality of life. She rarely acted like she was in pain, even on her final day. And the fact is, she probably wasn't in much pain, even then, thank heavens. But everything else was such a disaster that she had no real quality of life left. It was just time. That's all.
     So here I am baby-sitting just one doggie, instead of two. If I know this family though, and I do, it won't be too long before there's a cute, little puppy on the scene. Lord help us.

King Arthur's Onion Rings

     Page One Hundred-Fifty.
     I don't remember if I've mentioned yet in this blog, but I have some pen-pals. Do young people even have those anymore? The only reason I do is because I'm as old as the hills. What with Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and all the other forms of social media, who knows if "strangers" even exist anymore for the under twenty set. But no matter. Let me tell you about one of my pen-pals.
     His name is Arthur and he's the king of England. He's a nice enough guy except he's always in one battle or another. Frankly, I think he has self-destructive tendencies, but what do I know? I don't have a Doctorate in psychology or anything like that. He has a great army support staff, though. The Chairman of his Joint Chiefs of Staff is some dude named Lancelot. Apparently, Lance is very good in battle. But, unfortunately, he has a thing for Art's wife, Gwen. And... wait... you know what? This blog isn't supposed to be about royal gossip. I'm really getting off track here.
     The reason I bring up King Arthur Is because he knows that I enjoy cooking. He enjoys cooking also. So occasionally we exchange kitchen secrets. Let me tell you one that he told me about a very long time ago. (Gosh, I think he included this trick in a letter he wrote me in the 8th or 9th centuries. We've been pen-pals a very long time.)
     Do you enjoy fresh, crispy onion rings? Here's the best way to get those. Simply make a happy-happy beer batter. Now, according to Arthur, there are about as many beer batters out there as there are scary, fire-breathing dragons. All these different recipes meet the different tastes of various consumers.
     Your ultra-basic recipe is one part beer to one part flour. Nothing more, nothing less. So for an average family meal, mix one 12 ounce bottle of beer with 1 & 1/2 cups of flour, then leave batter on counter for three hours. Meanwhile cut up a couple of large sweet onions into thin rounds, between 1/4-1/2 inch widths. Separate the rounds and dunk them into the batter, then fry up. This batter makes a paper thin, super-crispy coating on your little bits of oniony heaven.
     Incidentally, no salt is added to the basic recipe because beer is inherently very salty. That's why drinking beer sets up a craving for more beer. Most people don't realize this. Salt makes you thirsty, so drinking beer is like drinking salt water. But, many recipes do add salt. If you really enjoy salt add it or not as you like.  
     If you like your rings with a heavier, thicker coating, then double the flour. Two cups flour to one cup of beer. Salt or not. Three hours or so. Cut, coat, fry, eat, yum.
     Now you can start playing with your food too. For a thick, bready dough, add one egg to your recipe. Or even two eggs if you so desire. This will get you closer to a hearty Tempura chew and farther from a crispy onion wrapped in paper sort of thing. You can even skip the egg whites and just go full force into two egg yolks for an even creamier batter.
     Along the way of all these recipes are pepper and paprika of course, added as you like.If you really want to live on the edge, add a few grains of hot cayenne pepper or a touch of sugar or some garlic powder or, why the possibilities are endless! At least according to Arthur.
     So there you are. King Arthur's onion ring batter and it's variations. To be made with the next batch of BBQ Beef. Have I told that story yet? I can't remember.

Doughnut Day - Epilogue

     Page One Hundred Forty-Nine.

Doughnuts Served 9AM - 1PM

     Well, the weather was bright, beautiful and glorious and the doughnuts were exquisite. I was good; I only had two. And I went to the gym right after eating so I was able to successfully rationalize. (Photos taken at 10AM.)

What's A Video Game?

Doughnut Day 2013...Now just a memory

  

DOUGHNUT DAY!!! Part 3

     Page One Hundred Forty-Eight.

     So, one Friday morning in October, 2005(?), there's a FRONT PAGE story in the Cleveland Plain Dealer about Annual Doughnut Day in Cleveland Heights. It's a glorious human interest story about this fellow, Tom, who plays in the Cleveland Orchestra, and how he invites scores of guests onto his front lawn to marvel at this doughnut contraption. The article mentions Homer Price, the garage sale (but not Chuck), Father's Day, and how much this gathering typifies daily life in Cleveland Heights (a small town masquerading as an old, large, quirky Cleveland suburb) and how the gathering was the very next day. I read the article and said to myself, "I'm totally in on this".
     I looked up Tom's address in the phone book (you may remember phone books form the olden days) and showed up. I hardly needed an address. The cars and mob scene were crazy. You'd have thought that Abraham Lincoln and Marilyn Monroe were making special guest appearances. The line was easily twenty-five minutes long. But that little contraption was too cool. It was mesmerizing to watch one thingy-doey spill out dough into a tray filled with hot oil. Then, that dough floated along for a while. Then another thingy-doey magically flipped it over without anybody even asking it to. Then, the dough floated along some more. Then, by that time it was a real live doughnut.

                                                           IT'S A MODERN DAY MIRACLE!!!

     Then, it hit a little, metal conveyer belt which mystically lifted it up and out of the hot oil. Then, the metal belt lifted higher and higher toward the sky, when it would suddenly drop the little bit of  heaven onto a waiting plate below, onto which grubby fingers would grasp it for dear life. "MINE, NOT YOURS... MINE". It was incredible. Yet more proof of God's existence.  
     I introduced myself to Tom and we got to talking. He told me he knew about the impending article, but had no idea it'd be on the front page. When he saw it he immediately went out and bought a few hundred more pounds of mix. Thankfully, he didn't need that much.
     I told him how much I loved Homer Price also and we bonded. A couple of months later, I borrowed the machine and used it at a special event at Fancy-Shmancy Nursing Home. Tom insisted on donating the batter and oil (he always donated the supplies whenever anybody borrowed the thing.) It ended up one of the most horrific experiences of my life.
     I couldn't figure out how everything went together. Tom was in Europe, touring with the orchestra, so I was really on my own. I've very rarely been that frustrated. I'm actually very mechanically inclined, but I just couldn't get that thing to work properly. I wanted to cry. I even snapped at one of the old ladies who lived there. (She immediately forgave me and told me that I'm a real live human being just like everybody else.) I was eventually able to get lots of malformed little doughnut holes. And everybody was happy to eat those. Afterwards, I couldn't get the thing cleaned properly either. I wanted to cry again. So, I just gave up. I'm somebody who's a smidgeon preoccupied with perfection, and brother, I didn't get it that day. It remains one of my most psychotic professional memories to this day. But I digress.
     Anyhow... Tom quickly forgave me for returning the contraption in filthy shape and we've become friendly acquaintances over the years. He's a very active member of his church, which just happens to be where I held my enormous Passover Seder last spring. He and Cindy attended and both helped out, too. (I'm glad he got to see that I could  do something successfully.)
    I e-mailed him last week to find out when doughnut day was this year and he told me, 10.12.13. I'm too excited. So is everybody else. His children, now older, come in from college, as do all their friends to attend. In fact, 3 or 4 or 5 neighboring front lawns are taken over by children, younger and older, and dogs, playing football and eating doughnuts, while parents mingle and eat doughnuts. There will be Cleveland Height City Council wannabees campaigning and eating doughnuts. The mayor will be there of course, along with the church pastors and many congregants eating doughnuts. Franz Welser-Most, the conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra, and many orchestra members will be there, eating doughnuts. Assorted other friends, neighbors, relatives, dogs and extras will be there, eating doughnuts.
     And importantly, I'll be there, breaking my diet, eating doughnuts (and handing out my business card - trying to drum up work for myself). It's a doughnut party. Nothing more... nothing less. It just doesn't get more fun than that. (Except some years ago, I had a friend who had an annual pizza party. I should tell that story sometime too.) 

Before Doughnut Day...

DOUGHNUT DAY!!! Part 2.

     Page One Hundred Forty-Seven.
     So, now we know the story of Homer Price and the doughnuts. Fast forward a couple of decades. A fellow Cleveland Heights resident named Tom tells his wife and children that Homer Price was his favorite book as a child. And, the story of the doughnut maker was his favorite chapter. Tom and his family live in a very pleasant and neighborly section of Cleveland Heights. Everybody in the area knows everybody else and all know what each and everybody are up to.
     So one day, around the year 2000 or so, Tom's neighbor across the street had a garage sale. That neighbor, Chuck, owned a small diner here in Cleveland Heights and was selling a never-used, automatic, industrial doughnut maker that he purchased for said diner, but never ended up using. (I worked as a bus-boy in that diner for a couple of months in 1986. I ended up getting fired. You had to be really, really bad to get fired from Chuck's. Separate story. Chuck now lives in Oregon, where he moved in 2005 or so. I ran into him often until his move and occasionally reminded him that he once fired me. It was a big joke among our crowd. We're now friends on F-Book.)
     So anyhow, Tom's wife, Cindy, and children saw this doughnut maker and decided to buy it as a surprise and give it to him for Father's Day, a couple of weeks later, in remembrance of his Homer memory. He was thrilled. But what does one do with an industrial size/quality doughnut maker when one doesn't own an industrial restaurant? He built a beautiful wood and plexiglass stand for it and began using it at church gatherings. Also, he  let anybody and everybody borrow it just so that it wouldn't go to waste. Additionally, he began inviting friends and family to come over on a chosen Saturday morning each October to look at it and marvel at it's beauty.
     His annual October doughnut soire gathered steam and size and eventually caught the eyes and ears of the Plain Dealer reporter who lived down the street.

     Can you guess where this story is going?

     To be continued...

DOUGHNUT DAY!!! YEAH!!!

     Page One Hundred Forty-Six.

                                                         

      Next Saturday, October 12th is Doughnut Day, here in Cleveland Heights, Ohio and I'm so exited I could just spit. Let me explain.
     Are you familiar with the stories of Homer Price as written my Robert McCloskey in the 1940's and '50's? McCloskey is most famous for writing the book Make Way For Ducklings but he also wrote a number of other lighthearted, high-quality children's books. Homer Price and the accompanying book, Centerburg Tales, told the story of this preteen boy living in the fictional, small Ohio town of Centerburg and the humorous adventures that he got himself into. The books are still in print and remain quite popular for American children. I have both of them which my mother bought for me when I was the appropriate age. (Though I admit that I still read them every few years.) They're quite enjoyable.
     One of the most famous stories tells the adventure of one Saturday evening...
     Homer's Uncle Ulysses owned the town's coffee shop and while Ulysses was away at the movies, he put Homer in charge. Business was very slow but Homer decided to make a batch of doughnut batter for the "after movie crowd" and brand new automatic doughnut maker. Just as he was getting ready to prepare, Centerburg's wealthiest lady walked in, saw what Homer was up to and announced that she knew the world's best doughnut recipe. She proceeded to make way, way, way too much batter. But she poured it all in to the doughnut maker anyhow. The machine proceeded to get stuck in the ON position and the next thing they knew there were hundreds and hundreds of fresh, hot donuts. The rest of this story tells how they got rid of the doughnuts and how they found the woman's priceless diamond bracelet which somehow got lost. 
     To Be Continued In Next Blog...

French Waffles

     Page One Hundred-Forty-Five.
     Do you remember French Waffles? Last night, I was talking with my sister and she reminded me of the French Waffles we used to get at The May Company, here in Cleveland. This was back in the 1960's.
     We'd go shopping with our mother to The May Company department store, and often as a treat we'd go down to the basement where the candy counter, snacks and treats were located. There were all sorts of various chocolates; hot pretzels (of course); cotton candy; caramel corn and French Waffles.
     If you don't know what these things are, let me try to explain. First there was a thin, slightly sweet batter. In retrospect, I think the batter was probably similar to Pizzelle batter but maybe thinner. Then, there was the mold. It was about 5" wide and about 1" deep and the general shape of a rosette window. And, it was on the end of a long handle. The lady behind the counter would dip the mold into the large bowl of batter then immediately plunge it into hot fat where the batter would fry up. After a couple of moments, she'd remove the mold and the hot waffle, which was very crispy, would loosen and slide down onto the counter. She'd then dust it with lots of powdered sugar. Then, we'd crack the waffle into lots of small pieces and shove them anxiously into our waiting,watering mouths.
    I understand that in other parts of the U.S.A. these things can still be found. In fact, on the internet, I can purchase the molds and the ready to mix batter easily. (Then again, on the internet, I can purchase anything, including earthlings and kryptonite, easily.) I could go for a French Waffle right now as a matter of fact. Perhaps one of these days, I'll purchase said supplies off the net and I'll write a blog about my experience making home-made French Waffles.We all know that I'm the type who would.
     Incidentally, this blog is only ten months old and I've already figured out how to add illustrations. Isn't that cool?

I Need Some Pralines Now

     Page One Hundred Forty-Four.
     Having a serious craving for pralines. Hate to admit this but never made them in my life. Allegedly, they're very easy to make, too. Just don't feel like experimenting right now. Going downtown to the ballet this evening (Swan Lake) so while downtown, going to Petterson Nut Company. They sell pralines and they're very good. So...
     By the way, if you've ever flown in an airplane, you've probably eaten their nuts and snacks. They're a massive supplier to many different airlines. And wow! is their stuff good.