Healthy, Wealthy & Wise
Benjamin Franklin said a lot of things. “Laws without morals are in vain” was attributed to him. As was this “Early to bed and early to rise” nonsense. You’re going to miss out on a lot of bar room wisdom if you are habitually early to bed.
But good health requires more than a healthful diet, regular movement, and good genes. It requires attention, early intervention, and professional medical care. I’m very lucky. Very, very lucky. And that in itself makes me sad, because this should not be about luck.
I’ve never been without medical insurance. Before I landed my first job, I was carried on my parents’ plan. Then I was insured through work. When I was laid off and decided to embrace a freelance career, I bought my own policy. Then I purchased a separate policy for Young Master Fussy when he was born.
All by myself. It felt very grown up. Very responsible. Very secure.
Why am I mentioning all of this on a food blog? Good question. Recently, there’s been a tragedy around one of the beloved classic restaurants in our community. And I really couldn’t bring myself to share it without talking about a much larger issue that impacts not just this one business owner, but surely many other entrepreneurs who do great things for the food scene in our area.
MLK Days of Yesterday
Some people are tough. I’m not one of them. When I have a sniffle, it can seem like the end of the world. And right now I have a full blown head cold. Thankfully, I have good health insurance, so I don’t have to worry if things take a turn for the worse.
Except for trips to the kitchen for chicken soup, and my plan to take a hot shower later today, I’m staying in bed.
Last night I went to sleep early, thinking that today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Since it’s a holiday, nobody would be expecting a post. But then I looked through the archive, and came to realize that I have always had new content on the MLK Days of yesterday.
I suppose, for some reason, MLK Day feels more important now than ever. Still, I don’t like to break from precedent, so today I have a little bit of a retrospective.
Cooking Stupid
Anchors can weigh you down, but they can also keep you grounded. That’s not always a bad thing. Mrs. Fussy was gone for less than forty-eight hours, and during that time, I engaged in more cooking projects than I should have.
The good news is that our chest freezer is packed with all kinds of delicious things to eat. The bad news is that last night I was up past midnight cooking a giant pot of food that we didn’t even remotely need. And really, I could have used the sleep.
But it was my own fault. I did something incredibly dumb.
Free Stuff, Good Times & Old Bloggers
Yesterday I checked out the new MopCo theater in Schenectady. It’s pretty sweet. And it’s almost right across the street from Perreca’s bakery.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t there for a show. I was there for a meeting. Yelp is a promotional partner with the Storytime Time event this Friday at 8 o’clock. What that means is two fold. For starters, I’m giving away tickets, which are super easy to win. The other is that if you’re at the show, and check-in to MopCo using the Yelp App, you’ll get a free bag of popcorn! Score.
There are rumblings that this weekend is all about supporting the arts and eating delicious food. And I think that’s a great idea. So I’m recommending that on Friday night, you hit up More Perreca’s for dinner, and catch my buddy Ethan Ullman at MopCo. Just make sure to save room for that free popcorn.
Then on Saturday (and I think I may have already mentioned this) there is an awesome pop-up at Saratoga Apple with Nine Miles East. It’s the place where all the real food lovers are going to be that night. I’ve even gotten confirmation that there will be donuts in addition to the cheese and gravy slathered wood oven roasted potatoes. I don’t know if there will be an after party at Hamlet & Ghost, but a man can dream.
Speaking of dreams, I just had a couple of mine come true.
Bitter Sweet News
There will be talk of food today. That will be the sweet part. But before we can get to the sweet part, I’ve got to get the bitter part out into the open.
I promise. This will be just a few short words about being blind to the hate that surrounds us.
Intellectually, I know that Serbians hate Croatians. You can pretty much substitute any two groups in the statement. Sunnis and Shiites are good ones. Hutu and Tutsi also work. But do you know how much of that real animosity, violence, and intolerance I see on a daily basis?
None. Zero. But just because I’m not aware of it, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
Fifteen Jewish Community Centers in at least five states received bomb threats by phone. Yesterday. Thankfully, these were just merely acts of intimidation. But there were no bombs. Only the evacuation of small children while officials searched the buildings for explosives.
Think for a moment, what it was like to be one of those kids.
Or one of those teachers.
Or one of those parents.
It makes sense why some people will not see this as a hate crime. Jews are only about 2 percent of the US population. We forget this, living in New York, but most people across the country don’t see us at all. And they certainly haven’t been exposed to the hate directed at us for centuries.
But that doesn’t mean it’s not there. It is. And right now, in America, it’s louder than ever.
Okay. That’s the bitter. Now onto the sweet. And nothing is sweeter than candy. So I thought I would share a little something surprising that I stumbled upon while shopping yesterday in Trader Joe’s.
The Difference Between Hummus and Pizza
All pizza is beautiful.
Well, not all pizza. But all the different and varied styles of pizza can be wonderful. Naturally, not all versions of a form are as good as others. Just like there are crappy New York style places in Manhattan, there are crappy deep dish parlors in Chicago.
Over the years I’ve come to soften my narrow-minded approach to evaluating pizza. For years, I insisted on judging the quality of a place based on its plain cheese offering, with the notion that if a pizza maker couldn’t do the basics well, then nothing else mattered.
All that resulted in was the loss of a lot of joy. I learned this lesson the hard way, many times, as I tried to choke down an unsatisfying cheese pizza while drooling over the specimens a couple tables down covered with gorgeous chunks of sausage and crisp discs of pepperoni.
So what does this have to do with hummus?
First Foods
I consider myself lucky. My first Chicago style hot dog was had in Chicago. And I had a Chicagoan order it for me, just to make sure I got the right thing, the right way.
Yes, I had heard of Chicago dogs in the past, with their tomato wedges, pickles, sport peppers, and celery salt. However, as a kid who grew up eating dirty water dogs from pushcarts in Manhattan, these midwestern variations on the form sounded like heresy.
But I won’t soon forget that first experience of eating a Chicago style dog, which was surprisingly good. Nor can I forget the first time I had dim sum, Raf took me to some place in Miami, and I was completely underwhelmed. There are stories upon stories. The first time trying ribs. The first time encountering sushi. My first taste of a fresh fig.
All of these food events have been indelibly etched into my mind. I’m guessing you probably have a few similar experiences. And if you would like to share a story or two, I’d love to hear about them. But I’m bringing up the significance of trying new foods for the first time because last night I got to do something super special.
The 26er Saga Concludes
All good stories start with “Once upon a time.”
Once upon a time there was a man who was a sucker for clever marketing schemes. One would think that by the time he was in his forties, he would know better. One would certainly hope that a fellow of his advancing years would stay away from social media and the power of the modern hype machine.
But you would be wrong.
Last year, when Nine Pin Cider announced its 26er program, the profussor couldn’t resist the power of its charms. Every two weeks, the local cidery would produce some very special batch of cider, available on tap only at a handful of local establishments. There would be 26 in all over the course of 52 weeks. And if you found some way to try them all, there would be a prize.
Frankly, I can’t even remember the prize. I do know there was a punch card. And that punch card has been in my wallet for almost a year. Today is the release of the final cider. That’s right. Number twenty-six.
From the beginning, I thought I was doomed to fail. And to be honest, up until yesterday, things were looking pretty bleak. But then I got a last minute save.
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