Arancini and Christmas 2013For the record, when I die, I want a Viking funeral. They put your body on a small wooden boat, cover you with hay, float you out on the water, and shoot flaming arrows until the hay catches fire. Then the boat burns and sinks.Is that too much to ask?In November, 2013, I drove from my home in Nashville to my hometown of Baltimore. Seven hundred miles. Eleven hours. Batu, my bull terrier, drove with me. We did it in one day.A couple days later, I dropped Batu off with a friend who just loves Batu and loves taking care of him. Then I flew to Madrid to work on the new Bona Fide CD with guitarist Marc Antoine. He had volunteered to produce and mix.Two weeks later, the CD was almost finished – all it needed was a couple of tweaks. I left Madrid, flew back to Baltimore, and picked up Batu. I was getting ready to drive back to Nashville when I got a phone call.My Dad’s second wife had passed away in Annapolis, Maryland. She was young, and it was so sad. My Dad had passed away two years before — on January 4th. He was cremated.I went to the memorial service for my stepmom. It was heart-breaking. It had to be tough for her two kids. Right before I left, her son — my half-brother — gave me two jars of my Dad’s ashes. One for me and one for my brother.Batu and I drove from Baltimore to Nashville the next day. I stayed a few days in Music City, and then packed up some things – including the jar of my Dad’s ashes for my brother – and Batu and I decided to head west. Destination? Breckenridge, Colorado, a skiing village in the Rocky Mountains. My brother, the Slim Bro, had rented an apartment so the family could spend Christmas together.My plan was to hang out in Breckenridge for Christmas with la famiglia, go to Scottsdale for New Years, and then head to Palm Springs, California, for a couple months of Slim Gigs. So I packed up the Slimousine, threw Batu in the back and we left Nashville and drove west.Batu and I got to Breckenridge safe and sound. We drove 1200 miles. It took us two days. We checked in to the apartment. It was pretty nice, on the ground floor, right in downtown Breckenridge.
Batu and I sat on the couch. I was reading the brochure for the apartment when I noticed there was a $100 dollar-a-day fine for having a dog. A hundred bucks a day. It was too late to find a new place. So I had to keep Batu on the QT, the Down Low and the Hush-Hush.My brother walked in. It was so great to see him. I hadn’t seen him since our Dad’s funeral. I gave him the jar of our Dad’s ashes. He put it on top of the refrigerator.Breckenridge was bitter cold. I woke up one morning and it was one degree outside. We were at 10,000 feet. I went jogging, like a fool. I jogged around the mountain. It was exhilarating – clear and sunny and beautiful and freezing cold.On Christmas Day, my brother, the family and I went to an absinthe bar on Main Street. I had never had absinthe. I’d heard about it. It’s an alcoholic beverage that is supposed to make you really crazy.How crazy? Well, rumor has it that one time Van Gogh drank way too much of the stuff, then cut off his ear and gave it to a prostitute.I’m sure she would have preferred to be paid in cash.So, on Christmas Day, we, the Slim Crew, went into the absinthe bar in Breckenridge, Colorado. We sat down. The waitress came over and started explaining the different kinds of absinthe. I think she must have tried most of them within the past hour, because her eyes had that space alien luminescence about them. And her ear was missing.The absinthe was expensive. Twenty bucks a shot.We ordered a couple. Only one of us had tried absinthe before. That person — I won’t say who – drank a lot of absinthe the night before a wedding, took a fire extinguisher off the hotel wall and sprayed everybody in sight.
The waitress brought over two glasses of absinthe, one clear and one green. She put a small strainer over top of each glass, and placed a cube of sugar on top of the strainer. She brought over a samovar of ice water, and placed the two glasses under the two faucets. She let the water drip slowly over the sugar cube, through the strainer, and into the absinthe.When the cube dissolved, we turned off the faucet, and we each took a sip. It tasted like old bathwater, smelled like stinky sweat socks and kicked like a mule. We passed the two glasses around, and drank. When we finished, we walked in the snow through the quaint little village, which was all decked out in lights and wreaths and ribbons.The town was glowing. We were also glowing – like nuclear waste. I don’t know if it was the absinthe or what, but we were definitely feeling merry and bright.When we got back to the apartment, we had a traditional Christmas dinner — turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. We drank wine. Not that we needed to. After we finished, as we were cleaning up, someone — I won’t say who — knocked the jar of my Dad’s ashes off the top of the refrigerator. It shattered on the kitchen floor.We all stood in silence for a moment. Then we started laughing.Why were we laughing? You’d have to know my Dad. He was a professor of philosophy and literature; a tough and gruff and grouchy curmudgeon who also had an incredible sense of humor. He once taught a course in comedy. He had a great laugh, his eyes would squint, he’d throw back his head, and he’d let it out.We all looked at his ashes there on the floor. What to do?We gathered up the ashes in a dustpan, picked out the glass as best we could, and went outside in the cold, dark night. I took the dustpan, and scattered his ashes in a schoolyard behind the apartment. Then we gathered in a circle, held hands, and mumbled something that sounded like a prayer.That was our Christmas. But that’s not the end of the story.When it came time to check out of the pet-unfriendly apartment, it was just me and Batu, cleaning and packing. My brother and family had checked out earlier. Check out time was 10 AM. At 10:05, there was a loud knocking on the door.“Time to check out!”Apparently, they were not only pet-unfriendly, they were people-unfriendly as well. Batu started barking. His bark could make Superman jump.I tried to get Batu to shut up. As the knocking got louder, so did Batu’s bark. All I could think about was paying the $100 a day dog fine. I grabbed Batu, lifted him up, and went out to the balcony of the apartment. I lifted all 70 pounds of him over the four-foot railing and dropped him in a snowdrift (don’t call PETA, we were on the first floor).
I grabbed his bed and tossed it over. Then I jumped over the railing, into the snow drift. I scooped up Batu, grabbed his bed and ran to the car. I threw the bed in the car, put Batu on top of the bed, and ran back to the balcony.I jumped the railing, went inside, and went to the front door. I opened it. The guy who was knocking came in and started looking around. There was obviously no dog. He walked around, and then left without saying a word. I packed my car and took off with Batu.We drove from Breckenridge to Scottsdale, Arizona. It was treacherous — up and down icy, snowy two-lane roads. The car was skidding all over, and there were no guard rails. The drop was precipitous. The drive took forever. I had the death grip on the steering wheel. It was tense. A trip that should have taken 10 hours took 20.But we made it. That’s my Christmas story for 2013. Happy Holidays.
ARANCINIWant to make people happy around the Holidays? Make some arancini! Arancini are Sicilian rice balls stuffed with mozzarella cheese.Arancia is the Italian word for oranges. Arancini means “small oranges” which is the size and shape these rice balls should be.Two cups of leftover risotto should make about seven or eight small rice balls.In the past, I’ve used mozzarella for the stuffing. One night, all I had was goat cheese. So I used that, and I loved the way it tasted. If you are using mozzarella, cut it into small cubes, two for each rice ball. If you are using goat cheese, roll it into seven or eight small balls – each about the size of a grape.Eight ounces of cheese should be more than enough for seven or eight arancini.INGREDIENTS2 cups leftover risotto – I used some risotto with shrimp and peas I had cooked the previous night½ cup of flour3 eggs1 and ¼ cups breadcrumbs (I use panko)½ pound of mozzarella, cut into 16 small cubes, or ½ pound of goat cheese, rolled into 8 small balls¼ cup olive oilHere we go…Take the leftover risotto, put it in a large mixing bowl.Put the flour on a plate.Break 2 eggs into a bowl, add some salt and pepper, and mick ‘em up.On another flat plate, add 1 cup of breadcrumbs.Break an egg into the risotto, and add the remaining ¼ cup of breadcrumbs.Mix the risotto, the egg, and the breadcrumbs by hand. Mick ‘em up.Take a small amount of risotto. Put it in the palm of your hand, roll it in a ball--about the size of a small orange. Poke a hole in it, add 2 cubes of mozzarella in the center, or one goat cheese ball, and fold the rice over the mozzarella.
Take the rice ball, roll it in the flour, and then dip it in the egg. Let the excess drip off, and then roll the rice ball around in the breadcrumbs until it's coated. Keep making the rice balls until all the risotto is gone.Put the olive oil (you can also use canola) in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. I used a 12” pan.When the oil is hot, put your rice balls in the pan, and sauté until golden on the bottom, about 3 or 4 minutes. Don’t burn your balls.Turn them over, and sauté on the other side, about 3 or 4 minutes, until golden brown.When done, put ‘em on a platter lined with paper towels.Dish ‘em up!Eat immediately. Serve with some absinthe and go nuts!
MANGIAMO!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Halibut Panko Fish Sticks
My sister had all her kids by C-section. They’re all pretty normal, except whenever they leave the house, they go out the window.When the doctors perform a C-section (cesarean section) they make an incision, and bring the baby out via the abdomen rather than, well you know. They stitch you back up, and instruct you to stay still for a week or so until your incision has healed. When my sister had her first baby, she asked me to babysit for a week while she recovered. I did. I loved it. I told my sister that whenever she had another kid, I’d do it again.I had no idea at the time that she’d go on to have four more kids.The doctors should have put a piece of Velcro on her stomach. My sister had kids every two years, like clockwork. At one point I was babysitting a newborn, a two year-old, a four year-old, a six year-old and an eight year-old. My sister used cloth diapers. Not on herself, on the kids. So whenever the kids peed or pooped, you had to take off the diapers, shake ‘em out, and put on a fresh one—with safety pins. And then put on a diaper cover. Babysitting was hectic. Crazy.It was exhausting, yes, but I actually didn’t mind it. Whenever my sister and her husband needed a break from their precious little monsters, they’d ask Uncle Slimmy to come up for a while.Babysitting five kids is like living in a tornado – it’s a whirlwind of activity. Get ‘em up, get ‘em dressed, make breakfast, get lunches packed, cut chewing gum out of their hair and then get them off to school.After school, you pick them up, drive ‘em around to all their after-school activities, go home, make dinner, clean up, make sure they do their homework, and then put ‘em to bed.The next day, you get up and do it all over again for the ingrates.One especially hectic morning, all the kids were running around screaming. I was trying to make sure all five were dressed; I was making school lunches and trying to get everybody ready for school.I’m not good at breakfast. I can cook you a dinner that will make you cry tears of joy, or at least not make you sick, but breakfast for me is some fresh fruit, maybe an English muffin.I rarely eat cereal, especially the kind kids like to eat – Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch, Count Chocula. But when you need to feed the little monsters in the morning and you’re in a hurry, cereal is quick and easy. You just fill a bowl and grab some milk.Which is what I did that crazy morning - except when I grabbed the milk carton, it was empty. Well, there was a drop. Kids love to do that, don’t they? They’ll drink out of the carton, and leave the last drop so they won’t have to throw it away.
So there they are, five kids seated at the table, bowls filled with cereal, clock ticking, and no milk. The kids had a rare moment of silence. They all looked at me, wondering what I was going to do next.I looked at the clock. We were running way late. I grabbed a liter bottle of Coca-Cola and poured it over the cereal in each bowl. They first looked at me like I was crazy. Then suddenly they all just thought it was the coolest thing in the world. 
They ate it up. They left the house that morning on the highest of sugar highs.No one got sick, so I’m marking it down as a successful meal.Breakfast was a crapshoot, but I almost always had a nice home-cooked dinner for the kids when they got back from school. Spaghetti and meatballs. Chicken Parmigiano. Cacio e Pepe (Italian mac ‘n cheese).But one night, I realized we had nothing in the fridge. It was too late to go to the store and come home and cook. So I ordered Chinese food. Only one problem – they didn’t deliver out in the sticks where my sister lived, meaning I’d have to jump in the car and go pick it up…My favorite car ever? My Jeep Wrangler convertible. I loved that car. It was a manly man’s car; stripped down of all luxury. No radio. No AC. No back seat. A canvas top. Canvas doors. Plastic windows. It was a rough ride. I loved to put the dogs in the back, smoke cigars and drive around.When the weather was nice, and you had the top down and the doors off, it was heavenly. It was basically a two-seater. Which posed a problem that night. I couldn’t leave the kids home alone while I went to pick up Chinese food.I didn’t have enough seats or seat belts to strap them all in. What to do?I put the two youngest in the front seat and strapped them in together. The other three I put in the back, and covered them with a big blanket. It looked like I was trying to smuggle illegals. I told them to shut up, and I gently drove to the Chinese place, picked up dinner, and drove back.It was only a few miles. I took it easy on the brakes – I didn’t want those kids rolling around the back of the Jeep. I’m just glad I didn’t get stopped by the cops.After that, the kids wanted me to drive them around all the time in the back of the Jeep. I didn’t want to press my luck with the police, so I’d drive them around the property, through the cornfields, over the hills. They loved it.I did an all-ages show one Christmas in Towson, Maryland. The nieces and nephew were just kids, they came down and sat in the front row. It was the first time they’d seen me on stage. To this day I remember how good that made me feel to see them there. None of them fell asleep, like people normally do at my concerts.I introduced the kids to the crowd, and then asked them to come up on stage and sing with “Uncle Slimmy.” They were mortified. It was the first time I ever called myself Uncle Slimmy. The name stuck. The kids didn’t come up on stage that night—but they’ve been coming to Slim Shows ever since. I thought they’d have more sense than that.I was honored when my oldest niece asked me to sing “End of the Rainbow” at her wedding three years ago. She just had twin girls. She didn’t name either one “Slim”. But it does make me a great uncle.Great Uncle Slimmy.HALIBUT PANKO FISH STICKS
My Mom was a great cook. But when she was in a rush to get dinner on the table for us kids, sometimes she’d pull a package of Mrs. Paul’s Fish Sticks out of the freezer and heat ‘em up. When I was trying to come up with a recipe for a piece of halibut, I decided to cut it into pieces the size of Mrs. Paul’s, and make my own fish sticks. I’m a genius, ain’t I?How did fish get to be so expensive? The halibut I used was $28 a pound. That’s ridiculous. What’s even more ridiculous is using that expensive halibut to make fish sticks. But they are so ridiculously good.I love panko bread crumbs. I mean, I don’t eat them out of the bag, but they’re great for frying. Panko breadcrumbs are all the rage right now. I understand why panko breadcrumbs are so popular. They’re light, crunchy, delicious, and have a great texture.Where the hell were they a few years ago? It’s like balsamic vinegar - up until ten years ago, nobody knew what balsamic vinegar was. All we had was Progresso red wine vinegar.And now? We have 500 varieties of balsamic vinegar. We’ve got $600 bottles of balsamic vinegar made by monks in Montepulciano.As far as the fish goes, you can use any thick, firm-fleshed white fish — halibut, sea bass, or grouper. Cod would be an inexpensive alternative. The best way to cut these filets is into rectangles, about four inches long and about an inch wide.Another thing – don’t bread the fish in advance. Dip and fry, that’s what I always say. If you leave breaded filets sitting around, they get gooey and don’t fry right. And you know what Nat King Cole said,”Straighten up and fry right!”INGREDIENTS
1 pound skinless halibut filets, cut into rectangular pieces2 eggsSalt and fresh ground black pepper½ cup canola oil (or olive oil)2 cups panko breadcrumbs on a plate (you might not use them all)Here we go…Rinse the fish and pat dry with paper towels. Put the fish on a platter.Take the eggs, and put them in a shallow bowl. Add salt and pepper. Beat it!Heat the canola oil in a large pan over medium-high heat. You can use canola oil for this, because it doesn’t smoke at high temperatures. But I’ve used olive oil many times with great results.Grab a piece of fish. Dip it in the beaten egg, let the excess drip off.Then roll it in the panko breadcrumbs. Press each side in, make sure the panko sticks to each side of the fish. Put it on a plate.Do this with all the pieces of fish.When all the fish is breaded, take a pinch of the breadcrumbs, and drop ‘em in the oil. If they sizzle, the oil is hot and ready.Place as many pieces of fish as you can in the hot canola oil. When you see the bottom edges of the fish turn golden brown – 2 or 3 minutes - use some tongs and turn them over. Don’t fork it – you don’t want to lose any of the juiciness, and you don’t want the fish to flake apart on ya.Brown on the other side for about 2 or 3 minutes.When both sides are golden brown, place on a plate with covered with a layer or two of paper towels.You gotta eat this dish right away. Plate it up right quickly, garnish with parsley, and serve with lemon slices. My Caprese salad is the perfect side for these fish sticks.
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!!!!!