Stories

What is it about rocking on a porch and hearing the low mournful call of a train in the distance that helps to melt away life's stress and worry?  Or the peaceful sound of midsummer leaves rustling in the tree tops as the wind blows gently through them?  

The white noise of cicadas softly buzzing in the afternoon heat that lulls one safely, in a trance-like state, from chaos to comfort?  Or a cool breeze on a quiet summer day followed by a tranquil afternoon shower that provides an assured respite from all of life's weary travails?  

The sound of raindrops tapping against a tin roof...thump, thump...thump, thump...that eases one toward solace and comfort?  Or the joy of song birds heralding the dawn and later marking twilight as they shepherd day into night?  The smell of gardenias blowing through an open window or the joy of starlight blinking gracefully against an inky sky?  

Harmony and peace are always there.  Simply stop, be quiet, still, and listen...

The drinks menu is easy—anything from scotch on the rocks to wine to martinis to Mint Juleps. And we know what brand mad men and women smoke, at least for now—Lucky Strike. But what do mad men and women eat? When they dine out in season four, it’s Chicken Kiev. And when they’re staying in—well, it’s easy to see why they don’t eat in very often.

In the first episode of the new season, Dan’s housekeeper told him that she had made pork chops—surely enough to drive a man not only to drink but to thoughts of an earlier season, when Betty, jumping up from the table to fetch his dinner, perkily asked, “Hot or cold”? Did we ever see Betty eat, even when she was pregnant? Most evenings she was brooding at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of wine. As little Bobby says, “Mommy doesn’t eat.” I can recall only two noteworthy exceptions: the vision of Betty—in the same episode as Bobby’s observation—devouring a chicken leg after her one-night stand with a stranger and her tryst in a sweet shop over a dish of ice cream with future- second-husband and Freudian-father-figure Henry Francis.

We just love paella and Bar Pinxto. For those of you on the East Coast here's a place in New York that's also pretty great. We love the Spring Street location. www.boquerianyc.com

My wife is on her way to her parents' house in New Jersey. She packed her clothes, bathroom kit, and Walter Mosley's latest detective novel, The Long Fall. I wanted to contribute to the weekend's meals even if I wasn't going with her. I put together a small packet with a mini-apple pie, a banana chocolate chip walnut cake, freshly cooked black beans, brown rice, grilled broccoli, bulgar salad with celery, and a box of whole wheat couscous. All but the couscous were ready to eat.

When we visit her parents, I usually do some of the cooking under her mom's supervision. The first time I cooked in Helen's kitchen I was showing off my then-specialty: whole roasted chicken cooked at high temperature. The impact on her kitchen was regrettable. The "high heat" was so high that her corningware roasting pan exploded. The resulting splatter on the inside of her oven took several days to clean. Needless to say I didn't make the best first-impression on my prospective mother-in-law. Luckily the chicken was delicious but I haven't used her oven since.