So there I was. Staring at two very ripe tomatoes.I don’t normally stare at produce, but these things needed to be eaten. And soon.I didn’t want to eat the same old shit, Caprese salad, or my Mom’s tomato salad, no disrespect to my Mom or Capri!I just wanted something different. Then I thought of making baked tomatoes, but they seemed so...Antiquated. Out of style. Not in vogue.Which is why they appealed to me. I looked up recipes, but nothing was clicking; they were all missing something.Know what they were missing?
Slimness.I wanted to make a stuffing with stuff I like. So I made a mixture of panko and Parmigiano and parsley and garlic, along with some dried oregano. Why dried oregano?I like the taste better. Especially in Italian-American dishes, although I’m pretty sure this dish is more American than Italian.Until now!I added a little olive oil to keep it together and moist.I scooped the seeds out of the tomatoes. I’m not a big fan of tomato seeds, especially in fresh tomatoes. I cut out the top tab/button of both tomatoes first. Then I cut them in half, horizontally. Then I scooped seeds.I mixed up the stuffing, stuffed it in the tomatoes, and baked them for 20 minutes at 450 degrees.Wow. They were real good. I mean...real good. I’m staying away from the hyperbole these days. Leaving myself a little headroom. But these were...delizioso. And quick. And easy.
INGREDIENTS¼ cup panko breadcrumbs¼ cup fresh grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese1 teaspoon minced garlic1 teaspoon dried oregano1 tablespoon chopped fresh Italian parsleyKosher salt and fresh cracked black pepper1 generous tablespoon olive oil
2 ripe tomatoes, top buttons cut out, cut in half horizontally, seeds scooped outHERE WE GO...Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.Put all the ingredients except the tomatoes in a small bowl.Mix with a fork.Put the 4 tomato halves in a small baking dish.Drizzle a little olive oil over each, add a little Kosher salt and fresh cracked 
black pepper to each.Add equal amounts of the panko mixture to each tomato. Fill the tomato holes. Put the extra on top. Be judicious. Be equitable.Put the dish in the oven for 20 minutes. Keep an eye on these maters.When the tops are golden brown, take the dish out of the oven.Let it sit for 5 minutes.Dish ‘em up! Make ‘em look nice, add a sprig of fresh parsley, and...
MANGIAMO!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Fregola
My niece got married in June.My sister had five kids, all by Cesarean. They’re all pretty normal, except every time they leave the house they go out the window.My sister would be laid up after each birth, so Uncle Slimmy would babysit the newborn until my sister's stomach recovered, a couple weeks. At one point, I had a newborn, a 2-year-old, a 4-year-old, a 6-year-old and an 8-year-old.It wasn’t easy, but it was such a wonderful experience. I loved it, and I loved them. Still do!The niece who just got married...her husband...I love the guy. He’s funny and smart and cool and comes from a great family. They met in high school in Pennsylvania.The wedding was in Philly, a town I hadn’t been to in a while. Man, it has changed. I stayed at a hotel right in the heart of downtown. I took a jog/walk up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the one where the statue of Rocky is.
Rocky. Remember that movie? Sylvester Stallone? When he was training for his big fight, he’d end his exercise routine with a jog up the museum steps as the theme song played. “Flying high now!”I jogged up those steps. And when I got to the top, I played my own theme song. “It’s All About Love!” Seemed suitable for the City of Brotherly Love, which is Philly’s nickname. I jogged back to the hotel, and right next door was one of the best urban markets I’ve ever been to.The Reading Terminal Market. They had everything. Bay scallops, sea scallops, all kinds of fresh fish, meats, produce, Philly cheesesteaks, pastries...they even had pig’s feet.
Which were pretty disgusting looking.My Mom was from down south, and they had big jars of pickled pig’s feet in this red liquid, sitting on counters at gas stations. Unrefigerated. You could stick your hand in the jar, grab a pickled pig’s foot, and start gnawing.I never ate any. I couldn’t get past the visual.The night before the wedding, they had a rehearsal dinner. There wasn’t any rehearsing, it was just a way for folks from the two families to get to know each other. It was held in an upstairs room at one of those hipster restaurants, the kind where the guys have beards and glasses with big black frames, and boots that look like the kind that soldiers wore in the Civil War.Except this was modern-day Philly.I’ll admit this, the food was good. They had a couple choices for entrees, chicken or salmon. I’ve been eating a lot of chicken lately. I’ve been eating so much chicken I’m starting to sprout wings between my shoulder blades. I’m afraid I might start spitting feathers out of my mouth.So I ordered the salmon.When they brought me the plate, the salmon looked beautiful. I took a bite, it was pretty damn good. It was resting on...what was it? It looked like some kind of couscous. I took a bite, and it was delizioso. She was a-so nice!I could tell it wasn’t couscous. I asked the waiter what it was.Fregola.What?Fregola.Which had me looking it up on my phone. I was trying to stay off the damn phone, especially at a gathering where you’re supposed to get to know people. But I had to know what fregola was.
Well, Slim People…it’s a pasta from Sardinia. Sometimes it's spelled "fregola" and sometimes "fregula." It was about the size and shape of BBs, and that night in Philly it was done in a simple sauce, as a side dish.Sardinia is a place I’ve always wanted to visit; it’s an Italian island in the Mediterranean, off the East coast of Italy. I read an article in National Geographic a few years ago; the people of Sardinia live exceptionally long lives. The National Geographic folks were trying to figure out why.Maybe it’s the fregola!It’s usually served in a simple sauce, like a tomato sauce with some pecorino-Romano cheese. It’s usually a side dish, except when they make it with clams, tiny clams from the Mediterranean.When I got back to Palm Springs, I decided to find some fregola.I couldn’t. I went to all kinds of food stores, and when I asked for fregola, people looked at me like I had two heads.What to do?I went online. I found some on Amazon, and ordered it. It was expensive, about $8 bucks a pound. Normally pasta costs a couple bucks, but this was imported from Sardinia. Shipping was $6 bucks. I decided to splurge.
It’s a durum wheat semolina pasta, which is what most Italian pastas are made from. But fregola is toasted in an oven at the end of the pasta-making process. The pasta was many shades of brown. Each little pellet was a different color...beige, tan, burnt Sienna.What the hell is burnt Sienna anyway?So I followed the instructions on the package, cooked it in salted water for about 12 minutes. Then I drained it, and added a little olive oil and butter. I made one batch with some Slim pesto and another batch with Slim’s tomato sauce.It was so good. It had a slightly nutty flavor, and I thought I tasted a mild saffron-type spice. I like trying new foods, especially Italian foods. And this was one of the best new dishes I’ve cooked in quite a while. And it was so simple.How was the wedding the next day? It was great. Yes, it rained...torrential downpours and thunder and lightning. At least it was inside. Sometimes when the weather is really crazy, it somehow makes an event seem more memorable.“Remember the wedding? It was raining cats and dogs!”Now, I’m not sure where that expression came from. But it was raining really hard.Fregola. It sounds like an Italian curse word. "Slim Man! Che fregola!"This is gonna be quick, Slim People. And easy! And delizioso.INGREDIENTSA couple tablespoons of Kosher salt1 pound fregolaA couple tablespoons of olive oilA couple tablespoons of butter, room temperature1 cup simple tomato sauce½ cup of pesto sauceFreshly grated pecorino-Romano cheeseFreshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheeseHERE WE GO!Get a large pot, fill it with fresh, cold water, and put it on the highest heat you gots.When it comes to a boil, add the Kosher salt (I use 2 generous tablespoons).Add the fregola pasta.Keep the heat up during the whole process!Stir and cook for about 12 minutes or so, until al dente—firm to the bite.Drain the fregola.Put half in one bowl, and half in another bowl.Add a tablespoon of olive oil and a tablespoon of butter to each bowl.Mix gently, make sure the butter has melted.Add the pesto sauce to one bowl, and the tomato sauce to the other.Mix gently.Dish it up!Put a serving of each on a plate. Add a little grated pecorino cheese to the tomato sauce fregola, and some Parmigiano to the pesto sauce fregola. 
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Primavera Sauce
Cooking these days can be a pain in the ass.I’ll tell you why…This weekend, there were some folks visiting the Slim Shack. People came in from around the globe to pay respects to my friend, Abe, who passed away recently.He was a colonel in the Army, and one of the good guys. He was well-read, kept himself in great shape, was thoughtful and generous and kind and strong and had a sense of humor, too. Plus, he was a sharp-dressed man.I cooked many dinners for Abe. He ate everything, and when I say everything, I mean he didn’t turn vegan or vegetarian or paleo or Mediterranean, Abe ate a balanced diet. Reasonable. Moderate.And he passed away at the age of 97 recently. Not from something I cooked, promise!He live
d a very healthy life right up until his last days. And he ate whatever he wanted. But that was then. And this is now…And now folks have all kinds of dietary restrictions. Here is what I was up against this weekend. Seriously.This one doesn’t eat meat. That one doesn’t eat onions. This one is a vegetarian but can’t eat tomatoes. The other one can’t eat pasta. Another one doesn’t eat anything fried or even sautéed. This one is completely vegan, and…What the hell was I supposed to cook?Well, I made one of the best dishes ever. Seriously. All these restrictions forced me to come up with something I never would have made. Sure, in the beginning I felt like smacking each numbskull upside the head with a wooden spoon, but after…Wowoweewow. I’m telling you, it was so good and so healthy.And I’m gonna show you how to make this primavera dish.Primavera in Italian means spring. So, the point to this dish is to find all the fresh—not frozen—and colorful spring vegetables you can, and make a dish of pasta with them.I went to the local grocery, and picked out the most gorgeous vegetables I could find. And there were plenty. Here in California, all the produce looks so beautiful and tastes like it hasn’t been sitting on a truck for a month.Because it hasn’t.Never in my life have I seen so many fresh and beautiful and scrump-diddly-umptious vegetables. And not to mention Gilroy, the Garlic Capital of the World, is not far away!So I found some magnificent vegetables, and then I roasted them, that’s right, roasted them in a pan. Because this one doesn’t like fried or sautéed.And then I put them over pasta. Well, I made one batch with real pasta, and the other one with some quinoa-edamame-tofu-Styrofoam-type fake pasta.I wasn’t jumping for joy when I tasted the fake pasta.But when I put this primavera sauce over farfalle? It was one of the best-tasting dishes I’ve made in a while. All because of those knuckleheads!So, in life, when confronted with knuckleheads, know that they are there to improve you. They are like sandpaper that smooths out your rough edges. When you have a bunch of knuckleheads over for dinner, and they have a bunch of dietary demands, cook this.This dish is simple. And quick. And easy. And inexpensive. And ridiculously healthy.NOTES: 
I put the chopped, slivered, sliced vegetables in two baking pans. After I sliced and diced and smashed and chopped, I divided up the vegetables equally…half the carrots in one pan, half in the other, and so on, with all the vegetables.The carrots need to be sliced thinner than the other vegetables. They cook quicker that way, and will be done when the rest of the other vegetables are.I used a whole garlic bulb. There were about 10 cloves inside, I smashed each one, peeled off the paper, and put 5 in each pan. The roasted garlic was delizioso.I have two racks in the Slim Oven.I put one pan on the lower rack, and one on the rack above it.After 20 minutes, the lower pan was perfection, so I took it out of the oven. But the upper one needed a little more time.So I put the upper pan on the lower rack for 5 or 10 minutes, and wow, it was done to perfectly perfect doneness.I put the grape tomatoes in at the end. For two reasons…One is that they really don’t need to cook/roast. They just get all mushy.The second reason is…that one couldn’t eat tomatoes. Or didn’t like them. Whatever, I left them out of her dish, and put them in after I served her.Cazzo!INGREDIENTS1 yellow bell pepper, de-seeded, and sliced into thin pieces1 red bell pepper, same way4 carrots, sliced into matchstick-size slivers1 zucchini, sliced the same way, but thicker1 yellow squash, sliced the same as the zucchini1 generous cup asparagus tips2 shallots, slivered10 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled1 cup grape or cherry tomatoes, halved, seeds squeezed out1/3 cup of fresh snipped basil leaves1 tablespoon of chopped fresh oregano1 tablespoon of chopped fresh thymeOlive oil1 pound of farfalle pastaKosher salt and fresh ground pepper Here we go!Preheat your oven to 450 degrees.Divide all the vegetables in half (except for the tomatoes) and put half on each baking tray.Drizzle with olive oil and mix.Add Kosher salt, and fresh ground pepper to taste, and mix.Put the trays in the oven for 10 minutes.Then take them out, and give ‘em a stir, stir, stir.Bake for another 10 minutes.When the carrots are done, take the trays out of the oven.
You can put this over pasta, or quinoa, or rice, or hedge-clippings.I used farfalle pasta, 1 pound.I put it in rapidly boiling water (I added a couple of tablespoons of Kosher salt first) and cooked it until al dente.Al Dente! Wasn’t he a pitcher for the Yankees?Drain the pasta and put in a bowl.Give a little drizzle of olive oil and stir.Add the vegetables to the bowl, stir gently.Add the tomatoes and the herbs, and mix gently. Gently, Slim boys and girls!Dish it up on a nice plate, maybe garnish with a sprig of oregano or thyme, and sprinkle with some freshly grated parmigiano cheese (unless you're vegan, or dairy intolerant, or whatever) and…MANGIAMO!
Slim Man Cooks Caprese Salad
I was conceived on the Isle of Capri. That’s what my Mom told me. She would know - I hope!Capri is an island off the coast of Italy. My Dad was in Europe, helping with the reconstruction after World War II. My Mom was with him. On their way back to the USA, my folks stopped in Capri. Lucky for me.I was born in Baltimore, Maryland, soon after my folks arrived from Capri. Couldn’t they have stayed on Capri for a couple more months?My folks loved music. My Dad loved old blues and Dixieland jazz; my Mom loved everything. When I say everything, I mean everything. Miles Davis, Chet Baker, Nat King Cole, Isaac Hayes, Aretha Franklin, Bonnie Raitt, Ella Fitzgerald, The Band, Dylan, Johnny Winter, Joan Baez, Hank Williams, Sr., Stan Getz, Astrud Gilberto, Dave Brubeck, The Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman, Donovan, Dave Grusin, Marvin Gaye, Norah Jones, Anita Baker, Gladys Knight. I could go on and on.I guess I just did.My Mom turned me on to so many great artists. We’d go see shows together; everyone from Gladys Knight and the Pips to Paul Simon. When Paul Simon came to town, she bought a couple tickets. When the young guy sitting in front of us stood up and started doing the hippy-dippy Grateful Dead dance, she pulled him by his shirt back into his seat and quietly told him to sit down.Dayuummm, Ma! Making me look bad! The guy sat quietly for the rest of the show. My Mom was quiet, but strong.
My Mom didn’t have a lot of dough, but she’d treat herself to music—she always had a nice stereo, and went to see concerts. I remember her going to see Bonnie Raitt when she was playing local college gymnasiums. My Mom would drive to Annapolis, Maryland, to see Charlie Byrd play jazz guitar at the King of France Tavern.My Mom had a lovely voice, sweet and clear with a natural vibrato. She would put on some music, and cook dinner and sing along. Then, we’d have dinner and read cookbooks—looking for new recipes to try. She loved music and loved cooking.She grew up poor in Eastport, which at the time was a ghetto across the bridge from Annapolis, Maryland, which was home to the Naval Academy, where her dad worked as a custodian. My Mom met my Dad in Annapolis; he was going to St. John’s College, and was in a school play. My Mom was also in the play, even though she wasn’t a student. They fell in love, and had us three dimwits. When I was born, we lived with my Dad’s Mom, Angela, in the basement of her house in Baltimore, near Pimlico Racetrack – a thoroughbred horse-racing track that was home of the Preakness Stakes.When I was six, we moved into a house a couple miles away, on a dead-end street named Rosebank. It was a great old house, what they call a “fixer-upper.” It had an upright piano in the dining room. The previous owners had built the room around the piano, and when they moved, they couldn’t get it out. So they left it there. I took the piano apart. I painted it black. I replaced the keys with new ones. I put it back together, and started playing.I was already taking trumpet lessons. Once a week, my Mom would take me down Greenmount Avenue, and I’d study trumpet with Mr. John at a place called Freitag’s. I absolutely loved Herb Alpert, and made Mr. John do all the Tijuana Brass duets with me.I used to read comic books. In the back, they had these advertisements for seeds. No, it wasn’t marijuana seeds. Vegetable seeds. You’d send away for seeds, sell them to your neighbors, and after you sold a certain amount, you could redeem your points for prizes--one of which was a guitar. I learned how to play by ear. It would have been a lot easier if I had used my hands.
There I was, a little kid, learning how to play guitar and piano and trumpet. I can imagine all the horrible sounds my Mom had to put up with. It ain’t fun listening to a kid practice. My first gig was playing guitar and singing Beatles songs at the sixth grade graduation. I was in fifth grade. Roland Park Elementary School. My first gig!When I started my rock band, Momma Max, my Mom let us rehearse in the basement. It must have been incredibly loud upstairs. When I started writing songs, my Mom would type out lyric sheets, and write letters to publishers. When I got rejection letter after rejection letter, my Mom would quietly encourage me to keep going.When I got signed to Motown as a songwriter, my Mom was ecstatic. When one of the first songs I wrote for Motown – “Summer Days” – was recorded by Angela Bofill on her debut CD, my Mom could not have been more proud—she saved all the articles and reviews. When I got offered a record deal with Motown, my Mom’s house was the headquarters while we recorded in Baltimore. When Motown decided not to release the CD, it was my Mom who kept me from jumping off the roof.After my stint at Motown, I started a band called BootCamp. The music was loud, it was rock, and it was making some big noise in the music biz. But I was screaming at the top of my lungs, all night, every night, singing way out of my range.When I lost my voice after all that screaming, when I thought I’d never be able to sing again, it was my Mom who encouraged me to sing low and slow. And that’s what I did after BootCamp broke up. Slim Man was born!When the first Slim Man CD--End of the Rainbow-- was released, my Mom was at the release party. She was about the only one in the joint. Seriously. It was a howling failure. Nobody came out. I was convinced the CD was gonna sink like a stone in the sea.Not my Mom, she kept my spirits up, kept gently encouraging me. When the End of the Rainbow CD started getting airplay, I was playing piano in a dive bar in Baltimore called The Horse You Came In On. My Mom would call the bar on Fridays, and tell me how well the CD was doing on the charts. The CD ended up going Top Ten for the year. My Mom was a huge Slim Man fan. Whenever I played around Baltimore, she’d come see me play. And then she got sick.She had this horrible illness called Supra Nuclear Palsy, a disease where the body’s motors shut down. It becomes hard to move your mouth or tongue; it’s tough to chew or swallow or talk. It’s hard to move your arms or legs. It was difficult for my Mom to even close her eyes to sleep. And yet her mind was still sharp as a razor.My Mom never complained. Not once did I hear her say, “Why me?” I rarely say “never” but I never heard her complain. All she could do was lie in bed and watch TV or listen to music. I once got an advance from a record company; I spent it on a TV and a stereo for my Mom. It was the least I could do after all the hell I’d put her through when I was a teenage idiot.Even when she was sick, she’d get my sister to take her to the Slim Shows. It wasn’t easy, getting her around in the wheelchair, when she couldn’t even move a muscle. But she made it, even when it was snowing.I took care of my Mom the best I could. I brought her food all the time. I called her almost every day, even though she couldn’t talk. I had a jazz radio show in Baltimore on Sunday mornings, I always dedicated the show to my Mom. After the show, I would visit her, bring her a dish, and we’d drink a Bloody Mary and watch old movies. One time, I rented a handicapped van, and took her and the nieces to Pimlico racetrack. Nothing like some horse-racing to take your mind off things!When I got an offer to do a cruise, I was hesitant. I didn’t want to leave my Mom, but she insisted I go. Michael van Droff--who owned a German record company that had released some of my music--organized the concert cruise. I flew to Germany, practiced with the band, and then flew to Jamaica, where the cruise ship was docked. We were going to cruise the Caribbean for a week, cross the Atlantic, and cruise the Mediterranean for a week. Not a bad gig. My first cruise.My first night on the ship was a night off. I had dinner at the huge buffet, and then nestled into my tiny little cabin. Early the next morning I got a phone call.My Mom had died. I was crushed. I was inconsolable. The Germans, they’re a pretty stoic bunch. My grief must have been pretty alarming to them, because they had me off that cruise ship within hours. It was like an evacuation. A small boat picked me up, took me to a small island, where I caught a small cab to a small airport.How small? There was one tiny runway among the palm trees. The terminal had one counter and no walls; just an old rusted tin roof overhead. They had a small sound system that played music in between announcements – which were few and far between. I was pacing; I couldn’t sit still. I had a lump in my throat the size of a basketball. My eyes were swollen and red.
I was staring off into the distance, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened, when a song of mine came over the tiny sound system. How that happened, in that little airport, on that tiny island in the Caribbean, I’ll never know. The song was “Night Like This.”I picked up my cell phone and called the first person I always called when I wanted to share a moment like that. My Mom.Except she was gone.CAPRESE SALADMy Mom was an excellent cook. She prepared all kinds of foods—Indian, Mexican, Italian, French. She once made coq au vin—a French dish of chicken with red wine—for my entire seventh grade French class.
Insalata Caprese--that’s what the Eye-Talians call it--is my favorite salad. Yes, I was conceived on the Isle of Capri, where this recipe comes from, so I am partial. But this salad is so quick, easy and delicious.There is only ONE THING you have to remember.Every ingredient has to be the best.The tomatoes have to be ripe and luscious. The olive oil has to be extra virgin, or at least one that hasn’t been pole-dancing at the club every night.This would be a good time to splurge on bufala mozzarella. Yes, it’s expensive. But it’s really, really good. Take out a second mortgage, if you haven’t already. Break open the kids’ piggy bank. This is the one time to dig deep and fork it over.Bufala mozzarella comes from water buffalos. The scientific name for water buffalo is Bubalus bubalis. Which sounds like something I made up, but didn’t. Bubalus bubalis! Boo-Bah Lish!I used organic heirloom tomatoes. They weren’t expensive, and they were so fresh, ripe and colorful and tasted like heaven.Some people use balsamic vinegar as well as olive oil on their Caprese salad.I prefer using just olive oil. But what the hell do I know?INGREDIENTS2 or 3 heirloom tomatoes, or fresh vine-ripened tomatoes1 large ball of mozzarella — I suggest bufala — about a poundExtra virgin olive oilSalt and fresh-cracked black pepperFresh basil, a handfulHere we goSlice the tomatoes into circular slices, about a ¼ inch thick.Slice the mozzarella the same way.
Grab a small flat plate. We’re going to make individual servings. Put a slice of tomato flat on the plate. Put a slice of mozzarella on top.Grab another slice of tomato, preferably a different color. Lay it on top of the first slice of mozzarella, but down about an inch, so it’s layered, like when you play solitaire. Put a slice of mozzarella on top of the second slice of tomato.One more time! Grab a slice of tomato, lay it down, put a slice of mozzarella on top.If my math is correct, you’ll have three slices of each.Drizzle some olive oil on top.Add some salt and fresh cracked black pepper.Grab some basil leaves and a pair of scissors. Snip some basil right on top of the tomatoes and mozzarella.Make as many individual plates as you can, this usually serves four. Unless you’re in my family --this would feed only one of those monsters.Serve with some crusty bread, and…
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Spinach with Toasted Almonds and Raisins
A lot of people ask me to sing at their weddings. My answer is usually,“Yes. Yes I can.”I love singing at weddings. It’s such a happy time. When I’m singing at a wedding where I hardly know anyone - that’s a lot of fun; watching strangers go nuts at a wedding is a blast. Watching people you know and love go nuts at a wedding is enough to make you want to grab a dart gun and shoot somebody in the neck.A couple years ago, a young gal from Baltimore asked me to sing “End of the Rainbow” at her wedding. She had no budget.I told her, “I can do it.” But if Taylor Swift asks me to open up for her that day; or if David Letterman calls me at the last minute to do the Late Show, I won’t be able to. If you can live with that, “Yes. Yes I can.”The week before her wedding, as hard as it is to believe, Taylor Swift did not call. David Letterman did not appear on my doorstep. I told her yes. She was so ecstatic. Ever since she saw me sit down at the piano and sing “End of the Rainbow” at a concert in Annapolis at the Rams Head Tavern, it had been her wish for me to sing that song at her wedding. I was flattered. Really.When she asked me to sing, I was thinking - I could walk in, sing “End of the Rainbow” and then get back to packing.Packing? Yes. I was moving. The day after her wedding, I was leaving Baltimore to move to Nashville. A permanent move. A big move. The wedding was on a Saturday. I was leaving Sunday. I didn’t mention My Big Move to the bride to be. I figured she had enough on her mind.A couple days before the wedding, we were talking on the phone about details when she said,“You need to be on the boat by 11:00 AM.”Boat? Pardon me…did you say “boat?” Yes. The wedding was a cruise around Baltimore - for five hours. We would be out to sea the whole time, and there was no getting off the boat. The thoughts that were running through my mind - maybe I could have someone pick me up on a Jet Ski after my song. Maybe I could leap on to a passing barge. Or borrow an inflatable boat and bring it on board with me.I’m not a big boat guy. I don’t wake up in the middle of the night and say, “Damn! I wish I were on a boat right now.”My Dad had a small fishing boat, a 17-footer with an egg-beater on the back. That was fun. But a big boat out on the open sea makes me a bit woozy.But una promessa é un debito--“A promise is a debt.” That’s what my uncle used to say. I told the Bride of Baltimore that I’d be on the Love Boat bright and early.
That Saturday, I jumped in the Slim Vehicle, and drove to the Inner Harbor of Baltimore. I parked my car, and walked a few blocks down to the water. I had on my beige Hugo Boss suit and my brown suede Donald J. Pliner loafers. Gotta dress big for a big wedding! I saw some folks boarding a small cruise ship — it held maybe 200 people. I got on the boat at 11:00 AM.The Love Boat was all decked out in flowers and ribbons. It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was out, it was warm – but not too – and there was a slight breeze as the boat slowly headed out into the Chesapeake Bay. They had the ceremony on the top deck. They exchanged their vows and everybody walked downstairs to the middle deck. And there I was, sitting at the piano. I sang “End of the Rainbow” for the bride and groom and their guests.After I finished, people were crying.They were crying, “Don’t give up your day job, Donkey Face!”After I sang, I guess people needed alcohol. My music usually drives people to drink. Folks were lining up at the bar. After cocktails, it was dinnertime. I sat next to Annabelle. I’ve known her for years. Annabelle is a joy. She is one happy woman.Annabelle is married to one of my bestest amigos. They've been separated for ten years, but never got divorced. They get along better now than they ever did. They’re the best of friends.Annabelle and I used to work together at a dive bar in Fells Point called the Horse You Came In On. People in Baltimore go to Fells Point to drink. She tended bar, I sang the blues. My band was called the Scrappy Harris Blues Band.Scrappy Harris was the barback at The Horse. He looked like a skinny little homeless kid. He smoked Marlboro Reds, drank Budweiser and was loud and boisterous. Scrappy had a small apartment nearby that looked like a flophouse. Bare mattress on the floor. Old sheets nailed over the windows. But Scrappy wasn’t poor. It turns out he was a trust fund kid. Had a ton of dough. He just liked being a barback, getting ice, stocking booze at The Horse You Came In On.We named the band after Scrappy. I wrote a song about him. I also wrote a song about Annabelle.“Annabelle…my sweet Annabelle, I’m going down to the wishing well…wish for a girl like Annabelle.”Annabelle and I had a blast at the wedding. After dinner, a band played. The guitar player was amazing, in a Stevie Ray Vaughan kinda way. I got up and sang “Pride and Joy.” The band was good. Really good.At the end of the shindig, Rob Fahey got up and sang “Raised on the Radio.” Rob was in a great Baltimore band called The Ravyns. “Raised on the Radio” was a big hit for them. It was used in the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High with Sean Penn.Rob sang his heart out. What a way to end the wedding.The Love Boat pulled up to the Inner Harbor. It docked right by the food pavilions. The Baltimore skyline was shining in the setting sun. I said goodbye to Annabelle. I walked up to the bride and groom. They handed me an envelope. Inside was a gift certificate for way too much money for my favorite Italian restaurant in Baltimore.La Scala.I had told them I would sing for free. I’m a great guy, ain’t I? The gift certificate was unexpected, but much appreciated. And very thoughtful.I said my goodbyes, and started walking from the Inner Harbor to the parking lot. On the way, a pickup truck drove by, splashed through a puddle, and splattered mud all over my pants and shoes. It looked like, well, like you can imagine. Dark brown mud. Beige suit. I was getting strange looks as I walked back to my car.I went home, changed, and walked Batu. Then I went to sleep. The next day, Slim Drummer John E Coale came over in his SUV. We packed up everything into our two cars, and drove 700 miles to Nashville.
Batu was in the back of the car, his dog bed piled on top of all the boxes, his head poking between the front seats.Goodbye, Baltimore. Hello, NashvilleBut wait! There’s more!I got an email the other day,“Can you sing “End of the Rainbow” as we walk down the aisle for our wedding? That song has been our song ever since we met.”He told me he was getting married Labor Day in Palm Springs. I’ve been staying in Palm Springs for the past few months. I wrote back and told him the same thing I told the Bride of Baltimore — if Taylor Swift calls at the last minute, I’ll have to bow out. He took it as a “yes.”He was so excited. He wrote me back and told me he was going to keep it a secret – he wanted it to be a surprise for his partner, Jack.SPINACH WITH TOASTED ALMONDS AND RAISINS
If you need some fortification before a Big Day, like a wedding day, why not make some spinach? It worked for Popeye!A few things about this dish…I used multi-colored organic grape tomatoes. Why?I saw them in the grocery store. They looked real cool and colorful. And they were inexpensive.You can buy almonds already toasted. But I like to toast my own nuts. I use raw slivered almonds, and toast them in a dry pan over medium-high heat. Do not leave your nuts unattended. Nothing worse than burnt nuts.I only cook the tomatoes for a couple minutes, you don’t want them to lose their shape or their skin.And only cook the spinach for a couple minutes, just enough to wilt it.Add the toasted almonds and raisins last. Because you don’t want your nuts getting soggy, and you don’t want the raisins to absorb all the sauce.I used brown raisins. Golden raisins would also work well.Serves 2INGREDIENTS8 ounces of baby spinach (I use organic)2 tablespoons raw almonds, chopped or slivered2 tablespoons olive oil2 tablespoons chopped shallotsCrushed red pepper (I start off with about ¼ teaspoon)1/3 cup white wine1 cup grape tomatoes, cut in half, seeds squeezed out1 tablespoon raisins (brown or golden)Salt to tasteHERE WE GO…Rinse off the spinach and spin dry--unless it’s the kind that’s already been triple-washed. Make sure it’s clean, SlimNation.And now, let’s toast our nuts."Here's to you, you nuts!"Get a small sauté pan.Put the heat on medium-high.Grab your nuts, put them in the dry pan.Shake your nuts around until they’re golden brown.Put your toasted almonds on a plate. Let ‘em cool.Put the 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium heat.Add the 2 tablespoons shallots.Add the crushed red pepper.Cook for 2 minutes or so, stir every now and then.When the shallots are almost clear, add the white wine, turn the heat to high, and let it cook off for 1 minute or so.Turn the heat to medium-low, add the tomatoes, and cook for 2 minutes, stirring every now and then.Add the spinach, cook and stir for 2 minutes--or until it wilts.Add salt to taste.Add the toasted almonds.Add the raisins.Give it a stir.Dish it up! This would make a great side dish for any of the Slim Fish Dishes.
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!!
Slim Man's Cod Pieces
You couldn't ask for a better friend than Cowboy Pickles. He has a recording studio outside Washington, D.C. It’s a studio, yes. But it’s really just a small spare room, in his humble home that’s close to the University of Maryland.I did the first Slim Man CD there. The second one, too.The room is about 20 feet long and 15 feet wide. It is stacked, floor-to-ceiling with audio equipment—old, new and everything in-between.Cowboy has never gotten rid of anything. Fender Rhodes electric pianos, old Hammond B3 organs, Hohner Clavinets, Mini-Moogs, Commodore 64 computers, old JBL speakers, amplifiers, cassette recorders, 8 track tape machines…every microphone, guitar, keyboard he's ever bought, he still owns. Some of it is junk. Some of it is priceless.Cowboy Pickles has an old rifle by the studio door—the kind you might see in an old Western movie. He has an ax--a big ax--by his toilet, as if he were expecting some crazed Meth-Head to come crashing through his bathroom window.Walking through the studio is like walking through a small maze. One false move and a wall of junk might fall on you and bust your cranium.
Batu loves Cowboy Pickles’ studio. He lays down on the floor and listens to the music, eyes half-closed like he’s in a state of bliss.The Pickles Compound is near a railroad track. It’s close to a small airport. And it’s so close to the University of Maryland that you can hear the marching band rehearsing in the distance.Cowboy Pickles gets some amazing sounds out of that little spare room.Recording vocals was a challenge. The timing had to be just right or else the microphone would pick up all those noises…planes taking off, trains passing by.And the air conditioner had to be shut off or else the mic would pick up the hum. Which wasn’t bad in winter. But in the dead of summer, when it’s 90 degrees and 90% humidity, it was murder without AC.And we did most of our recording in the summer. Cowboy Pickles is a music teacher--he gives private piano and guitar lessons. And when his students went on summer vacation, we'd have a lot of time to record.Whenever we got ready to do vocals, we’d shut off the AC. Then we’d open the windows and listen for…planes, trains, marching bands, lawn mowers, dogs barking.If all was quiet on the Eastern Front, we’d record.Sometimes, we’d get a great vocal take. But when we’d listen back to the track all by itself, we’d sometimes hear a plane landing. Or a train going by. Or a car horn.Birds chirping was OK. I kinda liked the way it sounded.But a marching band…unless it was somehow miraculously in time with the song we were working on, we’d have to start all over. Any time there was an open microphone—vocals, sax, etc., we had to listen closely for all kinds of extraneous noises.Most of them we caught. Some we didn't...We were mixing a song called Shelter From A Storm, from the stunning Slim Man debut CD, "End of the Rainbow." Mixing is the final part of the process where you determine the volume and tone of the tracks you've recorded. We were listening to the song, and I heard the phone ring. I yelled to Cowboy Pickles...“Answer the phone!”Cowboy picked up the phone. No one there.We went back to mixing the song. I heard the phone ring again.“Answer the phone!”Cowboy picked up. No one there. It happened a third time. We stopped mixing. We took a listen to my vocal track. We listened to it ‘solo’, which means…all by itself.And sure enough, there was a phone ringing on the vocal track. Plain as day. In one spot, you could hear…RRRRRRRRing!So we had a decision to make. Start all over…re-record the whole vocal track. Or just leave it in. We left it in.So…if you’re listening to the first Slim Man CD, and you hear a phone ringing…don’t answer it!When the CD was finished, we had a CD release party and concert at a club in downtown Baltimore. We invited every newspaper, magazine, reporter, TV station, radio station--we invited everybody. Anybody.Nobody showed up. I counted 16 people in a place that held 200. I went home that night, and was about as down-low as you can go. I was convinced the CD was gonna flop.I was playing piano at a waterfront dive bar in Baltimore called “The Horse You Came In On”. It’s one of the oldest bars in America. I played Friday afternoons, mostly to a group of guys that called themselves "The Knuckleheads".They wore hats like Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble wore to their lodge meetings--hats that looked like furry coneheads with steerhorns sticking out each side.One Friday, the phone rang at the bar. The bartender, Annabelle, answered it, listened, and then called out:“Looks like you’re number 27!”I had no idea what she was talking about. Neither did The Knuckleheads. But apparently, the radio promoter I had hired was finally starting to get some interest.The next week…”You’re number 21!"It continued to climb the charts, week by week. It got all the way to #9. Nationwide.
So technically, it was a Top Ten Hit. We started selling tons of CDs, we went out on tour, we played all over the US and Europe…All from a little studio, in a spare room, next to an airport, near a train track and within earshot of a marching band.Codfish CakesIn Baltimore, where I spent most of my Slim Boyhood, almost every little grocery store had coddies--codfish cakes. The two ingredients were codfish and mashed potatoes. The coddies were displayed on a tray, along with Saltine crackers and plain yellow mustard.I loved ‘em.When codfish went on sale a few weeks ago at the local grocery store near Slim’s Shady Trailer Park in Palm Springs, I thought it would be a great time to create my own codfish cake recipe. I call my new creation...Slim Man’s Cod Pieces
INGREDIENTS3 medium Yukon gold potatoes, cut into cubes (about 2 cups)1 pound codfish filet, skinless, cut into cubes (about 2 cups)2 tablespoons minced shallot1 tablespoon minced garlic1 tablespoon chopped rosemary2 tablespoons butter4 tablespoons olive oilKosher salt, fresh cracked pepper…to taste6 cups water1 egg½ cup of panko breadcrumbs (I used Progresso Panko Italian Style)FlourHERE WE GO...Get a large pot, put in 6 cups of water or so, put it on the highest heat ya gots.Put the taters in the water.When almost tender—it took mine about 10 minutes after the water came to a boil—add the fish cubes. That's right, put the fish right in the boiling water with the potatoes.Cook for 5 minutes.Drain in a colander.
Put the fish and the potatoes in a bowl, add 1 tablespoon of butter, add salt and pepper, and mash coarsely.Let it sit and cool as you…Get a sauté pan and put it over medium heat. I used a 10-inch pan.Add 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of olive oil.When the butter starts to bubble, add the garlic and shallot.Saute for 3 minutes until the shallots are clear and the garlic is pale gold.Add the rosemary and stir a few times.
Cook for 2 minutes.Take the shallot/garlic/rosemary mixture that's in the pan and add it to the codfish and potatoes.Mix it up.Grab your egg, put it in a bowl, and beat it.Add it to the codfish and taters, and mix.Add the breadcrumbs and mix by hand.If the mixture is too liquidy, add more breadcrumbs.When the mixture feels right—not too liquidy, not too bready--make cakes.I like my cakes about the size of a yo-yo. This recipe yielded 8 codfish cakes.Put ‘em on a plate.Take the sauté pan that you used for the garlic/shallots/rosemary.Put it over medium-high heat.Add 3 tablespoons of olive oil.As the oil heats up…Get a flat plate, put some flour on it.Lightly dredge each codfish cake in the flour.When the olive oil is hot, put the cakes in the pan, and saute for 3 minutes, until the bottoms are golden brown.Flip ‘em over—be gentle--and cook on the other side for 3 minutes, until golden brown.Place on paper towels when done.Serve with spicy brown mustard, or plain old yellow mustard like we used to do in Bawlmer!
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!
Seared Scallops with Ginger and Garlic
I was a teenage idiot. I did some stupid stuff when I was a teenager. Nothing horrible, just the usual stupid teenage stuff—underage drinking, staying out too late, having parties at the house when she was out-of-town. When I got older, I must have apologized to my Mom a hundred times for being such a knucklehead.I’m still doing stupid stuff. But not as frequently.As a teenager, it is required by law that you do the exact opposite of what your parents tell you to do. Your parents tell you not to smoke pot, for instance. For generations, parents have been telling their kids not to smoke pot. Does it work?No. Why not? Teenagers don’t listen.We three kids – my older brother, my younger sister and I – lived with my Mom on a dead-end street named Rosebank, in Baltimore, Maryland. When my folks divorced, my Dad went back to New York. Divorce is tough on teenagers. You don’t know who’s right, who’s wrong, what to do, or where to go.The basement at Rosebank was our haven. It was our safe place. We decided to fix it up.Uncle Oscar gave us a pool table. He had bought it for his son, Johnny. Johnny and I used to play pool at Oscar’s house. Johnny and I were close in age and close in general. He used to come see my band, Momma Max.Johnny died in an automobile accident when he was sixteen. It was so heartbreaking for the whole family. I was crushed. It was the only time I saw Oscar cry. He gave us Johnny’s pool table. It took a bunch of us kids, but we managed to get it in the basement at Rosebank.The basement walls were made of stone. Not the good-looking Hollywood kinda stone, these were stones like you’d see on the walls of ancient caves – rough and lumpy and crumbly. We whitewashed all the walls. It took a few coats, but we painted them all white. We painted the poured cement floor dark green.We got a bunch of brightly colored paints and markers and brushes and spray paints. Whenever anybody would come over – neighborhood kids, friends, cousins – we’d play pool, play music and draw on the walls. Cartoons, poetry, graffiti, drawings, portraits, quotes – the walls became this mash-up mural of collective art.It was where my band practiced. That basement should be in the Slimuseum! It once had a dirt floor and crumbling walls, and now it was all spiffed up, in a hippy-dippy way. My Mom was just glad to have everybody in one place, where she could keep an eye on us dimwits.The ceiling was really low. In certain areas, big iron water pipes hung low, and you’d have to stoop under them to avoid busting your frontal lobe. One time a friend of ours named Bruce made an incredible shot to win a game of pool. In a fit of joy, he leaped straight up, hit an iron pipe, and knocked himself unconscious.Did we help him? No. We were laughing too hard. I told ya, we were teenage idiots.My brother and I used to play tricks on our friends. They’d come over, we’d hang out in the basement, play pool, and play music. Then my brother and I would give each other a wink, and one of us would sneak out of the basement.We’d go outside and move our friends’ cars. Park ‘em down at the bottom of our dead-end street. Then we’d sneak back into the basement. When the party was over, our friends would leave, and my brother and I would wait until we heard the frantic knock on the basement door.“Dude! I can’t find my car! It’s my Dad’s! He’s gonna kill me!”My brother and I would let the terror go on for a few minutes, and then we’d laugh and tell them what we’d done. Pretty stupid stuff. Like I said, I was a teenage idiot.I think the zenith of my moronosity came when I decided to make some pot brownies. I put some pot in a blender, put in some brownie mix, and then made brownies in the oven.
My brother and I each ate a piece. We gave a piece to our sister. We didn’t force her, she wanted one. After an hour, my sister told us she didn’t feel anything. She told us she wanted to eat another piece. We didn’t think it was a good idea and told her so. She ate another piece anyway. Why?Teenagers don’t listen.A few hours later she was screaming that she’d never be the same. She was freaking out, and she kept telling us she needed to go to the hospital. It’s funny now. It wasn’t real funny back then. She finally calmed down, but it scared the shit out of us.That night, I put the brownies in some aluminum foil. I put a skull and crossbones on them, and hid them in the back of the fridge so no one would find them. I guess I should have thrown them out, but, like I said, I was a teenage idiot.The next morning I walked downstairs and saw the woman who cleaned our house eating a pot brownie with her morning coffee.I yelled out her name.She looked at me like I was crazy, and said,“What? What’s wrong?”I thought for a quick minute, which is rare for a teenager. Then I said,“Nothing. How are you?”She gave me a funny look. She’s a wonderful woman, has been a part of the family for years and years. I’m still very close with her and her family.But if I told her that she had just eaten a pot brownie, she would have probably freaked out. If I didn’t tell her, maybe she would just feel a little weird, and not think much about it.My Dad used to tell me, “Nobody gets in trouble by keeping their mouth shut.”So I said nothing. And nothing happened. She didn’t jump out of a window, or start a religious cult, or join the circus.After she left, I threw the brownies in the trash.I guess I was starting to grow out of my teenage idiocy period. I’m now in my adult idiocy period…SEARED SCALLOPS WITH GINGER AND GARLIC 
Scallops are for adults only. They’re too expensive to waste on teenagers!When you sear scallops, it’s real important to use dry scallops. These are scallops that have not been injected with water and chemicals.So make sure you use dry scallops — it’s almost impossible to sear wet scallops, because the liquid they throw off screws up the searing process.When you talk to your fish guy at the market, make sure he knows you want dry scallops. Rinse off the scallops and pat dry with paper towels. Keep patting dry until the moisture is gone from the scallops, and the towels do not get damp.Searing is one of my favorite things to do with seafood. It’s quick. It’s easy.After you sear a scallop or a piece of fish, you can eat it just like that. Or you can add a little sauce.The sauce I made consists of garlic and ginger and honey.When you cook scallops, figure on three scallops per person. If you serve two scallops, people will think you’re cheap. If you serve four, you’ll need to take out a loan.In this recipe, I seared 6 scallops, perfect for a nice romantic dinner for two.Me and Batu!There is enough sauce here for 12 scallops! You’ll only need a teaspoon OR LESS per scallop, you’ll have PLENTY left over—it should keep in the fridge for a week.One last thing! Scallops have a little muscle on the side. Peel it off and toss. The muscle, not the scallops!INGREDIENTS
The Sauce1 tablespoon minced garlic1 tablespoon minced ginger¼ cup of soy sauce¼ cup of olive oil2 teaspoons of honey (I sometimes use more)The ScallopsTurbinado sugar (or brown sugar)Salt and pepper1 tablespoon butter1 tablespoon olive oil6 large dry sea scallops, side muscle removedHere we go...Take all of the sauce ingredients, put them in a bowl, and whisk, whisk, whisk. Taste for sweetness, and add a little more honey if you like.Put half the sauce in a small pot over low heat--save the rest in the fridge for next time. Let the sauce reduce a bit as we sear our scallops.Sprinkle the top of each scallop with JUST A LITTLE sugar, kosher salt, and fresh cracked black pepper.Get a medium-size sauté pan. Put the heat on medium-high.Put a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of olive oil in the pan.When the butter starts to turn brown and bubble, put the scallops in the pan — seasoned side down.
Sauté for 2 minutes. As the scallops sauté, sprinkle the top side of each scallop with JUST A LITTLE salt, sugar and pepper. If you’re concerned about splattering, place a piece of foil VERY LOOSELY over the pan.After 2 minutes, lift the scallops out of the pan with some tongs.Swish the butter and olive oil around in the bottom of the pan so you’re not placing the un-seared side of the scallop onto a dry pan. You need those juices to sear!Put the scallops back in the pan, un-seared side down. Sear for 2 minutes.Dish it up! Put the scallops on a platter with a sprig of parsley or two. You can also put them on a plate of greens. Grab the pot with the simmering sauce. Spoon a LITTLE over each scallop—a small teaspoon, and…
MANGIAMO!!
Slim Man Cooks Lamb Chops
Elvis hated us.Not the real Elvis.An Elvis impersonator.I had a band in the 1970s called Mixed Nuts. The original name was Nick’s Nuts.The problem was, a gangster guy who booked the band hated the name Nick’s Nuts. He told us to change it, so we changed it to Nix Nuts. He hated that name, too. We changed it to Mixed Nuts. Gangster guy liked it; it fit.We played cover songs, mostly Top 40 dance stuff - Earth, Wind and Fire, Kool and the Gang, Ohio Players, along with some jazz – Grover Washington, George Benson and Weather Report.We played clubs in and around our hometown of Baltimore, Maryland. We had some really good musicians in the band. We sounded good. We looked good, which is much more important than sounding good. Only thing was - we were a little nuts.
Our keyboard player, Danny, was the nuttiest of the Nuts. He was the instigator. He was a short, roly-poly guy, looked a lot like Danny DeVito. Danny did some crazy things.One of our first gigs was opening for an Elvis impersonator. We used their equipment – drums, amps, and keyboards. I'm guessing Elvis' keyboard player wasn't very good, because he had placed pieces of masking tape on each key of his keyboard. He had written the notes of each key on each piece of tape - so the “C” key had “C” written on the tape, the “D” key had “D” written on it, and so forth, up and down the whole keyboard.We opened the show for Fake Elvis, and played for about a half-hour. Danny used the guy’s keyboard. At the end of our show, Danny changed all the pieces of tape on the keyboard – so the “C” key was no longer “C”, and the “D” key was no longer “D”.We left the stage. People didn’t throw things at us, but the applause wasn’t deafening, either. Elvis was waiting in the wings. His band went onstage and the keyboard player started their intro, the theme from 2001 A Space Odyssey.All the notes were wrong, thanks to Danny. The keyboard player looked down at his keys, and then over at Elvis. Elvis gave him a dirty look. The keyboard player started the intro again. Nothing but wrong notes. Elvis looked over at us, and we were smiling.He was not.Needless to say, it wasn’t the best night for Elvis and his band. I don’t think the keyboard player hit one good note all night. After the show, Elvis came looking for us.But Mixed Nuts had left the building.I liked the real Elvis a lot. I’ve been to Graceland more than once. Early Elvis is my favorite. He was cool. His eating habits weren’t the best in the world. A steady diet of peanut butter and bacon sandwiches can’t have a good impact on your body. But Elvis' music had quite an impact on the world.When Mixed Nuts played the Baltimore nightclub circuit, we started at 9 PM and played until 2 AM. We did five 40-minute sets, 200 minutes of music. We usually played the same club for a week. Then, we’d head to a different club, play for a week. We did that all-year long.After a show, we’d all go out to eat. Diners, Denny’s, Holiday Inns – anywhere that served food late at night. Whenever The Nuts went out to eat, we’d arrive at the restaurant in our suit jackets and vests, and dress shirts and ties, shoes and socks, and - no pants. We were always so nonchalant about it, like it was completely normal. We were nuts. Mixed Nuts. We had a name to live up to.A lot of the clubs we played were owned by Greeks – The Latin Casino, The Redwood Inn, Rhapsody, Hollywood Palace, and Club Venus. The owners were all named John. We gave them nicknames, so we could tell them apart…Uncle John. Little John. Big John.We used to play the Hilton Hotel in a neighborhood called Pikesville. It was one of the few clubs in Baltimore not owned by a Greek named John. The Hilton club was run by a guy named Bill, who had a phosphorescent orange tan, fake black hair, and chain smoked cigarettes.One night, The Nuts were at the Hilton doing our Big Finale, which was a song called “Birdland” by Weather Report. It’s a lively little number, a song that we had a request to do. The guy that requested it hit the dance floor as soon as we started the song. He was all by himself, out there on the dance floor, doing a frantic little dance…And then he died of a massive heart attack. Right there in front of us, on the dance floor. True story. We were scheduled to play the Hilton the following week. But we didn’t. Bill didn’t want us playing there anymore after the guy died.It’s not like we killed him.But it did give birth to the phrase “We knocked ‘em dead last night.”Mixed Nuts broke up soon after.Why? Like I said, the guys in the band were really good musicians, and started getting some incredible offers…The sax player got hired by Patti LaBelle. He started touring the world.The guitar player got a gig with Dion and the Belmonts. He started touring the world as well.I got signed to Motown Records. I took the drummer from Mixed Nuts with me to play on the album. Who was the drummer?Hit Man Howie Z. We still play together in the Slim Man Band.Four out of five Nuts went on to be pretty successful in the music biz.And the fifth Nut, the nuttiest Nut? Danny?He got busted a few years later for selling marijuana. The Feds found a lot of pot and a couple hundred thousand bucks stashed on his property. So I guess Danny was pretty successful, too, in his own way. Except the Feds confiscated the money. And the weed.Danny didn’t drink. He didn’t use drugs.But he did do a couple years in the Federal penitentiary. When he got out of prison, he went back to Baltimore.We’re still close friends. He still plays music in and around the Baltimore area. Jailhouse Rock!LAMB CHOPS WITH ROSEMARY AND GARLIC
When I was in Mixed Nuts, I didn’t cook very much. But when I did, I usually made some Italian vegetarian dishes; tomato sauce, pesto, things like that. I didn’t eat a lot of red meat.My Dad cooked a birthday dinner for me one year. He made this incredibly elaborate meal, and the main course was a leg of lamb with mustard sauce. My Dad had invited Danny. He loved Danny, thought he was ridiculously funny.After this extravagant dinner, after all the courses had been served, Danny looked at my Dad and said,“Good slop.”Which my Dad thought was hilarious.I still don’t eat a lot of red meat, but when I have carnivores over at Slim’s Shady Trailer Park, I’ll make lamb chops. This is my favorite red meat recipe.INGREDIENTS1 pound lamb chops (I had 6, each about ¾ inch thick)1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary1 clove garlic, minced (a generous teaspoon)1 teaspoon olive oil, plus 1 tablespoon for searing1 tablespoon butterHere we go…
Rinse off your lamb chops and pat them dry with paper towels.Put the chopped rosemary and the minced garlic on a chopping board.Even though they’re already chopped, chop ‘em up together for a minute. These guys need to get to know each other.Put the chopped rosemary and garlic in a small bowl.Add a teaspoon of olive oil, mix it up. Set aside.Place the lamb chops on a large 
plate.Rub a little of the rosemary/garlic/olive oil mixture on top of each lamb chop—only on one side! Spread it around evenly, a thin layer.Add a little kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper.Get a large sauté pan (I used a 10-inch pan).Turn the heat to medium-high.Add the 1 tablespoon of butter, and the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil. When the butter starts to brown, add the lamb chops—spiced side down!Cook for a couple minutes, as in 2 or 3. Thinner pieces take less time, thicker ones, longer.Using tongs, turn ‘em over. Swirl the olive oil and butter around in the bottom of the pan so you’re not placing the lamb chops in a dry pan.Cook for another 2 or 3 minutes.Check them for doneness - at 2 or 3 minutes a side they should be medium rare. If you like them well done, cook for a couple minutes more on each side. If you like them rare, cook them less.That’s it!!Dish it up, make it look nice, add a sprig of rosemary, maybe a dollop of risotto, a couple baked asparagus spears, and…
MANGIAMO!!!!