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!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Ahi Tuna with Red Wine Sauce
Ahi Tuna With Red Wine Sauce and the Baltimore Colts
Why don’t cannibals eat divorced people?They’re bitter.September 11, 1983. The Baltimore Colts football team was scheduled to play the Denver Broncos. The year before, 1982, the Colts had not won a game, and because they stunk so bad they got the first pick in the NFL draft the following year.The Colts chose quarterback John Elway, from Stanford University. Elway refused to play for the Colts. He was even considering joining the New York Yankees baseball team rather than play football for the Colts. So the Colts traded Elway to the Denver Broncos and in the second game of the 1983 season, the Broncos came to Baltimore to play the Colts at Memorial Stadium.I had been a Baltimore Colts fan from day one. My uncle Oscar had season tickets from their very first game – the seats were in the mezzanine, right next to the press box. Oscar played football in high school-he was good enough to be offered a full scholarship to college, but chose medicine instead. When the Colts came to Baltimore, Oscar bought the best seats. I went with him to as many games as I could. I knew all the players, their numbers, their statistics, their nicknames.Lenny Moore, #24. Gino Marchetti, #89. Artie Donovan, #70. Johnny Unitas, #19. Raymond Berry #82.
I loved football. When I was a kid, I played football in little league. I wasn’t offered any scholarships, but I loved playing. And I loved the Colts.You can imagine how thrilled I was when the Colts called and asked my band to sing the national anthem for Elway’s first appearance in Baltimore. The band was BootCamp; we’d been making a name for ourselves in the music biz. We had worked up a great acapella version of the “Star-Spangled Banner.” It was a show stoppa. At parties, shows, concerts, weddings, funerals - all of a sudden, out of the blue we’d burst into the national anthem It was a cheap way to get a standing ovation. But our four-part harmony rendition was quite stirring, if I may say so myself.When we got to Memorial Stadium that Sunday, we were escorted through the Colts locker room, and into an underground tunnel that led to the field. As we were coming to the end of the tunnel, we heard this rumbling…The players, all suited up and breathing fire, were coming down the tunnel right behind us. We stood up against the wall and let them pass. They were big, and they had a look in their eyes that was fierce. Like Gladiators getting ready to enter the Coliseum.When they passed, we followed them out onto the field. We walked up to the microphone. The announcer asked everyone to stand and remove their hats. Memorial Stadium got dead-quiet. Then he introduced us, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Baltimore’s own BootCamp!”We sang our hearts out. It was the thrill of a lifetime. Fifty-thousand people standing on their feet, cheering. A standing ovation! Of course, they had to stand because it was the national anthem; but I’m marking it down in my bio as "a standing ovation before a sellout crowd of 50,000."
When we finished, we walked to the sidelines, and stood among the Colt players. The Colts’ front office had given us field passes. I’m sure when they gave them to us they weren’t thinking we’d stay on the field for the whole game, but there we were, standing on the sidelines with the players and coaches.All the players and coaches were giving us funny looks. I can’t blame them. We were dressed like …well, it was the 1980s. We looked like a cross between Duran Duran and Devo. We had on as much eyeshadow over our eyes as the Colts had under theirs.On the opening kick-off, I couldn’t see what was going on, but I could hear it. The two teams charging down the field sounded like a stampede of wild horses. When they hit each other, you could hear the crack of the helmets, the grunts and groans of the players.When the special teams unit came over to the sidelines after the kick-off, it was something I’d never witnessed before. The players were out of breath, wheezing and panting - fingers were broken, uniforms were muddy, noses were bloody.Playing football is a brutal sport. Playing music is not. Musicians don’t encounter a lot of violence. Unless, they’re really, really bad.The Baltimore fans were booing Elway mercilessly that day. People from B-Mo were pissed off. They weren’t afraid to be vocal about it. John Elway had said he’d play anywhere but Baltimore, and we Baltimorons took it personally.It would have been nice if the Colts had won. But the Colts were pretty bad that day. They lost, 17-10. The newspaper ran a photo on the front page the next day.Hit Man Howie Z was in it, back to the camera, walking off the field. 1983. It would be the Colts last season in Baltimore.On March 29, 1984, at 2:00 AM, 15 Mayflower moving trucks arrived at the Baltimore Colts training complex. Eight hours later, they were loaded up and heading to Indianapolis.They took everything - the Colts’ name, the trophies, the memorabilia, the mascot, the uniforms. All gone to Indianapolis.The mayor of Indy had offered the owner of the Colts a 12 million dollar loan, a 4 million dollar training complex, and a new 77 million dollar stadium.Let me make an analogy. Your wife (spouse) meets someone new, a wife that you stood by through the good times and the bad. This New Guy offers her a 12 million dollar loan, a 4 million dollar work-out room, and a 77 million dollar house.And she takes it. That’s OK, things didn’t work out, I can handle that. But did she really need to take all your stuff, too? Your trophies, your memorabilia, your mounted deer head? No. With all that money, she could have bought new stuff.Did she have to take it all in the dark of night, at two in the morning, while you were sleeping? That’s harsh. But that’s what the Colts did.When I heard the news about the Colts leaving town, I was pissed off; so much so, that I didn’t go to a football game, or follow the NFL for years.I was bitter. Lots of folks in Baltimore were.When the Baltimore Ravens came to town, Oscar got season tickets, great seats in the club section. I resisted at first. Then I gave in. I went to my first Ravens game. The guy sang the national anthem and it sent chills up and down my spine. The crowd cheered, jets roared as they flew right over our heads, and Ray Lewis came out of the tunnel and did his dance while fireworks shot into the sky. The stadium went wild. It was thrilling.I was hooked. I was back in love! The Ravens went on to win the Super Bowl that year—2000.It took me a while, but I had found a better wife. She’s been great. She won the Super Bowl again last year. What more could a husband ask for?I’m not bitter anymore. I’m better, not bitter.
AHI TUNA STEAKS WITH RED WINE SAUCEWhat do you do with all that red wine left over from the Super Bowl Party? Make red wine sauce!You can use this sauce on steak, chicken or ahi tuna steaks. You can grill them, or sear them. I seared.I went to the grocery store not long ago and they had beautiful ahi tuna steaks for $8 a pound. I bought two, and was wondering how to cook them.I had done tuna with a red wine sauce before, but it wasn’t where I wanted it to be. The sauce wasn’t right. It was bugging me. It was keeping me up at night. Then, around dawn, it dawned on me. Tomato paste!The next time I made the sauce, I added a little tomato paste to the sauce to thicken it up and give it a little zip. Then I added a little dried oregano to give it some zing. Zip! Zing! It turned out great.A few things before we get started - the tuna steaks I used were about an inch and a half thick. I cooked them for 2 minutes per side over medium-high heat. They turned out perfectly — the pepper/salt/sugar that I had sprinkled on top gave them a nice sear, and they were a beautifully pink on the inside.Cooking times vary. A thicker piece of fish takes longer.Also, when you light your Cognac on fire, be careful, boys and girls. Yes, the subsequent explosion of flame looks so cool and very dramatic, but have the fire department on the phone in one hand, and a garden hose in the other.If you’re using this sauce on a steak or chicken, just cook or grill the steak as you normally do, and add a little sauce on top.This is a bold sauce. Don’t use too much!INGREDIENTS2 ahi tuna steaks, about a half pound (8 ounces) each2 tablespoons butter2 tablespoons olive oil2 tablespoons chopped shallots1 tablespoon chopped garlic2 ounces of Cognac (about ¼ cup)½ cup dry red wine½ cup stock (I used beef)½ teaspoon dried oregano1 tablespoon tomato pasteFresh ground black pepperKosher saltBrown sugar or raw/turbinado sugar (you can use plain sugar in a pinch)Here we go…Rinse off your tuna steaks and pat dry with paper towels.Let’s make the sauce.In a small pan over medium heat, add 1 tablespoon of butter, and 1 tablespoon of olive oil.When the butter melts, add the shallots and the garlic.Cook about 2 minutes until the shallots are clear and the garlic is golden. Stir a few times.Add the 2 ounces of Cognac.
Stand back, Jack! Get a lighter, one with a long handle. Light the Cognac on fire. Be careful! The flames will shoot up!When the Cognac burns off, and the fire department has left…Add the red wine and the beef stock.Let it cook for 3 minutes while stirring.Add the oregano, stir.Add the tomato paste, stir for a minute or so.Remove from heat.The sauce is done, now let’s cook our tuna.Rinse the ahi tuna steaks and pat ‘em dry with paper towels.Add a little freshly cracked black pepper, a little kosher salt and a sprinkle of turbinado or brown sugar on top of each steak.Get a sauté pan; put it over medium-high heat.Add 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of olive oil to the pan.When the butter starts to brown, add the tuna, peppered/salted/sugared side down.Add a LITTLE SPRINKLE of fresh cracked black pepper, kosher salt, and turbinado sugar to the other side.Cook for 2 minutes, turn over with tongs. Swirl the butter and olive oil around in the bottom of the pan, so you’re not placing the ahi tuna in a dry pan.Cook for 2 minutes on the other side.Give it a slice, see if it’s done to your liking. If it is, dish it up. Keep in mind, the fish will keep cooking, even though you've taken it out of the pan. Err on the side of rare.Put some greens on a plate with a few grape tomatoes, place the tuna on top, drizzle just a little red wine sauce over each piece, and…
MANGIAMO!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Cippolini and Red Bell Pepper Sauce (for fish)
I saw a tour bus driving north on Route 29. I started following it.I had just come from the recording studio in Washington, DC. It was the early 1990s. I had written a song for a singer named Brian Jack. Brian was the former lead singer in a Baltimore band named Child’s Play. He had a great voice, big charisma, and I took him into the studio to do some songs I’d written. We hit it off.The two of us lived in a house on Sue Creek, in a town outside Baltimore called Essex. People in Baltimore made fun of Essex--probably because a lot of rednecks lived there. I liked Essex.The house we shared was incredible — 21 Woody Road. It was right on the water--kinda like a Redneck Riviera. We had windsurfers, Sea-Doos, all these great water toys. None of them were ours - people parked their things at our pier, and they’d let us use them in return.
The previous tenant had been hauled off to jail for insurance fraud. I remember the first time I met him. He was standing in the huge living room. It had cathedral ceilings, a big fireplace, and massive floor-to-ceiling glass doors that overlooked the deck, the pier and the river. I’ll never forget what the guy said,“I laid a lot of pipe in this house.”I thought maybe the guy was a plumber. Then it hit me — he wasn’t talking about shower stalls.Brian and I moved in soon after the guy was taken off to prison. I wrote songs for Brian, he sang ‘em. Things were starting to take off, he was getting airplay, and packing the clubs.Brian and I were heading home from the studio when we saw the tour bus and started following it. I had this intuitive feeling that we should tag along behind the bus. A couple minutes later, it pulled over to the side of the highway, onto the shoulder. I pulled right behind it. The driver got out of the bus, came over and asked me if I knew the way to Merriweather Post Pavilion.As a matter of fact, I did. I told him to follow me.I saw the Doors at Merriweather Post Pavilion on their first tour. I saw Led Zeppelin at Merriweather when they opened for the Who back in 1969 — the only time that ever happened. Procol Harum, Paul Simon, and Frank Sinatra; I’d seen them all there. I’d even played on that stage before. I knew where the backstage entrance was. The big-ass tour bus followed me in my little blue Honda station wagon.
We reached the security gate, and I told them what was going on, and they waved us through. They didn’t even ask any questions. I’m guessing they were well aware that whoever was on that tour bus was running late.The tour bus followed me on the small winding road through the woods to the backstage area. When we got there, the bus driver parked, got out, and thanked me a million times.And then guess who stepped off the bus?B.B. King. When I was a kid, my Mom had brought home an album of his called Indianola Mississippi Seeds. Man, did I love that record. I must have played it a million times. “Chains and Things”, “Nobody Loves Me But My Mother”, “Hummingbird” – which was written by Leon Russell—I loved those songs. Joe Walsh played guitar on that album, Carole King played some keyboards. It was one of my favorites.I loved B.B. King and here he was standing right in front of me.He thanked me. He asked me and Brian if we’d like to stay and see the show. Then he walked us to the side of the stage, and dropped us off, right behind the curtain. We waited in the wings. I looked out at the crowd. It was buzzing.A few moments later, B.B. King’s band took the stage and played one song. Then B.B. King came out, and played and sang his heart out. All night long. Brian and I watched the whole concert from the side of the stage, a couple yards away. It was an amazing show.After the show, B.B. King invited us back to his dressing room. He signed autographs for everybody waiting in line. He told stories. He was charming, laid-back and as gracious as could be.B.B. signed a photo for me.A crazy coincidence…The guy who signed me to Motown way back when was Carl Griffin. Carl had produced a CD for B.B. King called Live At The Apollo. It won a Grammy in 1992 for both B.B. and Carl. When I mentioned to B.B. King that night that Carl was one of my best friends, B.B. smiled and said,“Carl’s a good man.”Yes, he is!Want to hear the rest of the story about the Live at the Apollo CD?Ray Charles was scheduled to do the concert that night with B.B. King. But right before the show, Ray Charles demanded to be paid an additional 50 grand--in advance--to be included in the live recording. Nobody had that kind of cash lying around on short notice. So Carl decided to go ahead with the show. Ray Charles played, but was not included on the live CD.The CD went on to win a Grammy for Griff and B.B.And that’s the rest of the story.
Cippolini and Red Bell Pepper Sauce (for fish)After a night of singing the blues, this is a dish that will make you happy.The first time I made this sauce, I used maple syrup. Not pancake syrup, maple syrup! Big difference.My Dad lived on top of a mountain in upstate New York. Maple syrup was everywhere—you could see taps on maple trees with buckets underneath all over the place. Real maple syrup is real good.Getting to the grocery store at my Dad’s house was an ordeal. So if you ran out of something, you had to spend a good hour driving to and from town to get what you needed.One time I ran out of sugar for my coffee. I put in some maple syrup instead and loved it. It’s still my preferred coffee sweetener. Another time, I ran out of honey--I was going to use it in a sauce for grilled salmon. I used maple syrup instead—just a little—and loved it.I know some real good cooks who look down on this kind of thing. One of them suggested I try a medium sherry instead, and I did. I cooked the sauce both ways, with sherry and with maple syrup.I did a taste test at Slim’s Shady Trailer Park. Everybody loved the sauce with the maple syrup much better than the one with the sherry. But what the hell do those people know?If you want to substitute sherry for maple syrup, use a cream/sweet sherry.You can use this sauce over fish. I’ve used it over seared mahi and it turned out well. Mahi is a strong-tasting fish—so I used a little more sauce than I normally would. If you’d like to use a milder fish, you can use this sauce on seared or baked grouper, halibut, or salmon. Less is more—less sauce is mo’ better on mild fish.I used this sauce on baked salmon recently and it was magnifico. I used just a drizzle of sauce.This is powerful stuff!
Notes…Cippolini onions are small onions, a little sweeter and milder than regular onions. You can find them in most grocery stores. If you can’t, use shallots instead.Meyer lemons are my favorites; they’re sweeter and milder than regular lemons. I’m into sweet and mild these days, I guess. If you can’t find Meyer lemons, use a ripe, soft lemon.You can use red bell pepper, or a combination of red and yellow bell peppers. Whatever combination you use, you’ll only need a tablespoon or so.To sear a piece of fish...get a medium sauté pan. Put it over medium-high heat. Add a tablespoon of butter, and a tablespoon of olive oil. Salt and pepper your fish, then sprinkle a LITTLE brown sugar (or turbinado sugar, or regular sugar in a pinch) on top. Do both sides, but use just a little salt, pepper and sugar, got it?When the butter starts to bubble, sear for 2 or 3 minutes, depending on the thickness. Then flip over and sear the other side for a couple minutes.Thick fish take longer.To bake a piece of fish, heat your oven to 400 degrees. Rub your fish all over with a little olive oil, and then sprinkle a little salt and pepper on top. Put it in a glass or ceramic baking dish and bake for 10 minutes. Check it with a fork. If it flakes, it’s done. If it doesn’t put it back in the oven until it does. Then drizzle a little cippolini sauce on top.
INGREDIENTS2 tablespoons olive oil1 tablespoon butter2 tablespoons chopped cippolini onions1 tablespoon minced red bell pepper (or half and half red and yellow bell pepper)1 tablespoon maple syrup¼ cup dry white wine1 tablespoon lemon juice1 tablespoon chopped Italian flat leaf parsleyKosher salt and fresh cracked black pepper to tasteHere we go…Put the olive oil and butter in a small sauté pan over medium-high heat for 2 or 3 minutes—don’t let the butter burn!When the butter starts to bubble, add the onions and red bell peppers and cook for 2 minutes while stirring and swirling. This is how you swirl…remove the pan from the heat for about 10 seconds, and swirl everything all around. Put the pan back on the heat for 30 seconds and repeat.Add the maple syrup and cook for 2 minutes, swirl and stir.Add the wine and cook for 1 minute. Shall we swirl and stir?Add the lemon juice. Cook for 2 minutes.Add the parsley; add kosher salt and some fresh cracked black pepper to taste.That’s the sauce! You are now The Boss of the Sauce—use it over seared mahi, or baked salmon, or whatever fish you like. You’re the Boss.
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Codfish Cakes
I had let Batu out into the back yard like I had done a thousand times before. But this time, when I called him, he didn’t come. I had just had arthroscopic knee surgery.I went outside and called Batu’s name again and again. Nothing. So I started looking. I grabbed my crutches, and started hopping around the neighborhood like a fool, looking everywhere. I ended up walking for miles. I started to panic as night fell. I had no idea where he was, or what had happened.Batu is not a street dog. He doesn’t know about cars and traffic, or anything like that. He did have a bright red collar with my name and number on it, but nobody called. As night fell, I started making calls to every shelter, every vet, and every place I could think of.Nobody had seen him. Batu is hard to miss. He’s a unique looking dog. He’s a bull terrier; there are only about 1,500 in the U.S. I hardly slept that night. So I got up and made a poster. I put them all over town – Baltimore, Maryland. I lived in the city, in a neighborhood called Roland Park. The house had a creek out back, with woods and a trail. There was a tiny alley in front of the house.
I put up posters everywhere. I started out close to the house, and kept widening the circle. I put up posters on every telephone pole, grocery store, and 7-11 I could find.No calls.That second night was hell. I checked my phone a thousand times.I had no idea what had happened to Batu. A neighbor told me she heard he got hit by a car in the alley and had bolted into the woods.Finally somebody called. They told me they got the number from Batu’s collar. My heart soared.Until they told me Batu was not attached to the collar. They had found the collar in a shopping mall three miles away. Somehow, the collar had fallen off his neck. They got my number off his dog tag, which was still attached to the collar. My heart sank.I got on my bike and rode over to where the collar had been found, and started calling his name, handing out flyers to anyone who would take them, posting them anywhere I could. That night, the third night, I couldn’t sleep. I got on my bike. I grabbed a flashlight. I started riding around, calling out his name.“Batu!”I’m surprised I didn’t get shot. I love Baltimore, but the murder rate is fairly high, and that rate gets higher when you have a crazy person riding around on a bike at 2 AM, screaming "Batu!" in the dead of night.Still there was no sign of Batu. I was sick with panic — it was an extremely hot summer, and Batu didn’t do well in the heat. Plus, he had a heart condition – an enlarged heart. He was on medication, medication that he needed.I called pet detectives, including Sherlock Bones (true). I called pet psychics. I called every shelter and every vet over and over. I even rented a large animal trap and put it where Batu was last seen. I put up more posters. I placed classified ads.Two girls called me up, Rebecca and Angela. They saw one of my posters and offered to help. It was clear that these two attractive young ladies loved dogs, and somehow felt a connection to Batu. We started canvassing the city. We coordinated our efforts. We went neighborhood by neighborhood. We drove. We walked. We biked.Still no Batu. It was now four days.Every vet, every pet detective, every professional dog person I contacted told me that after three days, I might as well give up hope. Hardly any dogs are recovered after that long. It didn’t stop me from looking. I tried twice as hard. I went to the best neighborhoods, where there were only mansions. I went to the worst neighborhoods, where there were only crack houses. Seriously.In both places I got funny looks – a crippled white guy on a bike handing out flyers offering a reward for a missing dog. I didn’t care.Rebecca and Angela were in constant contact. They helped whenever they could. We were becoming friends. But there was still no Batu. I was terrified. Five days with no food, no water, and without his medicine. I searched high and low. Night and day. I lost ten pounds. I was limping from my operation. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep.When Angela and Rebecca got off work, they’d help me search. Six days turned into seven days as time crawled by. I was depressed and desperate. I called my friend, Tim, who was a meteorologist at the local TV station. He made a mention on the air.
Day eight. I got a call that night. Someone had seen Batu in their yard in Guilford, one of the nicest neighborhoods in Baltimore, about three miles from the Slim Shack. I drove like James Bond over to the sighting. Rebecca and Angela met me there. We looked behind the house and there was Batu. I called out his name.He bolted. Took off like a cheetah. We chased after him. He got away. We looked for hours. Angela and Rebecca went home. I kept looking until dawn. Then, I went back to the Slim Shack, printed up more posters, and papered all of Guilford.I’m surprised I didn’t get arrested. But I didn’t give a shit.After that, I went back to the shack and crashed. I hadn’t slept in days. Then my phone rang. It was Baltimore City Councilwoman Maggie McIntosh. She introduced herself, and then told me she had seen Batu in her neighbor’s backyard in Guilford. I jumped in my Jeep and burned rubber.When I got to the house, Maggie McIntosh was there. She pointed to the neighbor’s backyard. There was an iron fence around the yard. Batu was inside. How he got in is still a mystery.I called his name. He didn’t even know who I was. But when I held out one of his treats, he came running. I loaded him into the Jeep.Batu ate the whole box of biscuits. No wonder. It had been nine days. No food, no water and no medicine. I called Rebecca and Angela. They met me at the Slim Shack. We had a little party. We drank, we laughed, we cried, and we danced.Actually, it was Angela who danced. Turns out, this really attractive, sexy, dog-loving Italian babe was also a belly dancer. Madonna mia. So many prayers answered in one day!After our little celebration, I took Batu to the hospital. They put him in the DICU, the Doggy Intensive Care Unit for four days. He was emaciated, dehydrated, malnourished, had some internal injuries. He really needed Intensive Care.So did I when I got the bill. It was almost four grand. My cousin helped me out.And here’s how it all ended…
Batu got well, and he’s still doing great, seven years later.Rebecca confessed to me that she was gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Some of my best friends are gay. What a doll!And Angela, well I had a secret crush on her. But, I was involved, and she was involved, then I got uninvolved, and she got more involved, and eventually she got married.I send Rebecca and Angela Christmas cards every year. Hope they still live in the same houses!Whenever I think I’m down on my luck, I remind myself of this story.Whenever I think a situation is hopeless, I remember this story.Whenever I think of giving up, I remember this story.SLIM MAN’S COD PIECES
In Baltimore, where I spent most of my Slim Boyhood, almost every little grocery store had coddies –codfish cakes—on the counter by the cash register. 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, California, 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.INGREDIENTS6 cups water3 medium Yukon gold potatoes, cut into 2-inch cubes (about 2 cups)1 pound codfish filet, skinless, cut into 2-inch cubes (about 2 cups)2 tablespoons butterKosher saltFresh cracked pepper4 tablespoons olive oil1 tablespoon minced garlic2 tablespoons minced shallot1 tablespoon chopped rosemary1 egg½ cup of panko breadcrumbs (I used Progresso Panko Italian Style)Flour (1/2 cup should do)Here We Go…
Get a large pot, put in 6 cups of water or so, and put it on the highest heat. Put the taters in the water and let them cook as the water comes to a boil.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, and salt and pepper, and mash coarsely. Keep it chunky! If it’s too smooth, the codfish cakes won’t fry right.Let it sit until it’s warm to the touch.As it cools, 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.Sauté 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 liquid, add more breadcrumbs.When the mixture feels right — not too wet, not too dry – make cakes.I like my cakes about the size of a tangerine. This recipe yielded 8 codfish cakes.Put the codfish cakes 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, and put the flour on it.Lightly dredge each codfish cake in the flour. Make sure each side is lightly dusted with flour.When the olive oil is hot, put the cakes in the pan, and sauté 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!In Bawlmer, they eat them on saltine crackers. I like ‘em plain—but what the hell do I know?
MANGIAMO!
Shrimp, Scallop and Vegetable Kabobs with Sherry Sauce
Shrimp and Scallop Kabobs with Mack and Myer’s
Might have fun, might not.That was the sign outside Mack and Myer’s nightclub in Essex, Maryland.My band, BootCamp, was the house band at Mack and Myer’s. In the music binniz, that means we played there almost every night. It was the ‘80s. The 1980s, not the 1880s.Essex is a town outside Baltimore with a bad reputation; I’ve always liked the place. It has a singular charm. People in Baltimore make fun of people in Essex. Why? Maybe it’s because it’s on a river that has two, well, poop-processing plants right in the middle of the water. They look like two huge silver breasts, side by side, floating in the water, pointing to the sky.They let off a stench that is hard to ignore. A HazMat suit or a gas mask might be in order while near that body of water. The river is named Back River. There is a bridge over those troubled waters, and right across that bridge was a club called Mack and Myer’s.The club was owned by Dave Hutchinson. Dave was a cool guy; smart, funny and hip. He was one of those guys who was in the know, but a little offbeat. Dave embraced Essex and all its lowdown uniqueness. His brother was an elected official, an important executive for Baltimore County. My guess is that Dave was the black sheep.When you walked inside Mack and Myer’s, there were all kinds of strange things hanging from the ceiling. Old wooden chairs. Trombones. Guitars. Old street signs. All kinds of junk, suspended by wires and string, hanging from the ceiling — which was only a few feet overhead. Mismatched Christmas lights were strung everywhere.
There was a jukebox in the corner. A real old-time jukebox. Dave had it stocked with every funny crazy old single ever released. "Yakkity Yak (Don’t Talk Back)". "Along Came John". "Sixteen Tons". The jukebox also had songs like "Paper Doll' by the Mills Brothers.I loved the jukebox. I loved Mack and Myer’s. I loved Dave. And I loved Sophie.Sophie was the waitress. She had a bee-hive hairdo of red hair that was so thick and lacquered with Aqua Net that you could have bounced bowling balls off her hair without so much as a dent. She had a thick Baltimore accent and called everybody “Hon.”She was darling. Her favorite song was “Do You Think I’m Sexy” by Rod Stewart; so the BootCamp Boys learned the song. Whenever we did the song, Sophie would get up on stage and dance the hootchie-cootchie dance and sing off-key.It was precious. She was precious. There was a band room in the back. One night, before a show, Sophie — a divorced cocktail waitress who lived down the street — ran her hands through my hair as I sat in a chair in front of her. The guys in the band were getting ready to go on.Sophie said, in that lovely Baltimore accent, “Your hair is just like the hair on my *****, Hon! If I didn’t trim it, it would grow down to my knees!”Forgive the language, but that’s the way she talked. That was so Sophie.Mack and Myer’s was funky. It was eclectic. It was a crazy mixture of people — black, white, rich, poor, gay, straight, intellectuals and blue-collars — who were all in on what seemed like an inside joke. Members of a crazy secret club.It was a three-ring circus. Dave was Ringmaster. He called me “Boot.” As in BootCamp.“Hey, Boot!” he’d scream across the club.BootCamp started getting popular. Mack and Myer’s was packed every night. It went on like that for months and months.Then we got an offer to spend the summer as a house band in a club that was on the beach - IN THE HAMPTONS. New York. Long Island. Movie stars. Seaside mansions.
In the spring, we left Mack and Myer’s. We left Essex, Maryland. We left Back River and the Poop Processors. We left Dave. We left Sophie.We bought an old beat-up, yellow bread truck. No radio, no AC. We filled it with all our suitcases and equipment and we drove up the New Jersey Turnpike to the Hamptons. It turned out to be the craziest summer of my life. Everyone has one. That was mine.The club was called Neptune Beach Club. We played six nights a week until 4 AM and did double shifts on Saturdays and Sundays. After all those hours on stage, BootCamp was getting pretty good.When the summer ended, we drove back down the Jersey Turnpike in our yellow, beat-up bread truck; tanned and dead-tired. A peculiar stench told us we were getting close to Back River. We crossed the bridge and saw the Mack and Myer’s “Might Have Fun, Might Not” sign. The Boys Are Back!Dave was outside waiting, beaming like a proud poppa.We got out of the bread truck and Dave led us inside. He had us close our eyes. When we opened our eyes, we saw a huge sign, about 6 feet tall and 12 feet long, with big black letters on a white background. The sign took up the whole wall. It said:NEW YORK CITYDave looked at us and said, “Whaddya think?”We had no idea what the sign was about. That’s when Dave told us he’d re-named the band. Instead of being called “BootCamp” we were now -NEW YORK CITYWe explained to Dave - we’d been playing all summer in New York as BootCamp, we had videos on MTV, labels were interested, managers were calling, and a name change might not be the best idea in the world. We kept our name.Dave kept the sign up anyway. We kept playing Mack and Myer’s, but not quite as often as we used to. It was still packed whenever we played; but we were starting to get lots of other gigs.We were opening for Split Enz and Squeeze and the B-52s. We started playing other clubs, drawing 500 people on Monday and Tuesday nights. We were doing showcases in Manhattan for major labels.It was time to move on. Dave knew it. We knew it. We said a sad goodbye to Sophie, Dave, Mack and Myer’s, Back River and the Poop Processors. We crossed that bridge and took off for the Big Time.BootCamp never quite hit the Big Time. For about five years, we came as close as you can come; we were constantly on the brink, but never quite hit the Big Time. But we had a great time trying.A few years later, I was at the airport in Baltimore. I had just flown in from a Slim Man gig. Things were going well. It was late at night, and there weren’t a lot of folks around. I was facing the baggage carousel when somebody tackled me from behind.We fell to the ground. The guy had me in a bear hug. We started rolling around.“Boot!!!”Dave. Scared the shit out of me. We got up, and Dave smiled at me. He was a tall, burly guy, with a beard, curly sandy hair, laughing eyes and a distinguished voice.He thanked me. He thanked me for the good times. He thanked me for the money I’d made him. He told me Mack and Myer’s did so well while BootCamp was there, that he was able to relax for quite a while. Then he gave me a hug.Might Have Fun, Might Not.We had fun.A ton of fun.
GRILLED SCALLOPS AND SHRIMP KABOBS WITH VEGETABLESWhen you make this dish, make sure your scallops and shrimp are not from Back River.I love grillin’. I love chillin’. This is one of my favorite grill dishes because there’s not a lot of fuss. You know what I don’t like about grillin’? When the food you’re grillin’ falls through the grill and onto the charcoals. That’s why I like kabobs. When you put your food on skewers, not only do you keep things from falling onto the charcoal, but they’re a lot easier to turn over.If you’re using bamboo skewers, soak them for in water for 30 minutes or more. If you don’t they’ll catch fire and burn down the trailer park.I skewered the vegetables on one set of skewers and the seafood kabobs on another. Why? Because the vegetables take longer. Also, when grilling, a little non-stick cooking spray (or olive oil spray) helps a lot. Spray your kabobs lightly before grilling.Note for my peeps - there are two kinds of sea scallops, dry and wet. Use dry scallops. Wet scallops are soaked in who-knows-what, and throw off a lot of liquid when cooking. I don’t use wet scallops. Ever. Ask your fish dude – he’ll know whether the scallops are wet or dry. Use the dry ones. Make sure you remove the small side muscle from the scallops. It’s about the size of a postage stamp, just peel the side muscle off, it should come off easily.Ingredients8 large shrimp, de-shelled and de-veined8 sea scallops¾ cup cream sherry (you can use sweet Marsala or port as a substitute)¼ cup extra virgin olive oil1 tablespoon each of fresh grated ginger, fresh minced garlic, fresh chopped thyme (or dried thyme)Some hot sauce, baby this evening½ Spanish onion1 yellow bell pepper8 cherry tomatoesSalt and pepperHere we go…Rinse off the shrimp and pat dry with paper towels. Rinse off the scallops and pat dry with paper towels until the towels no longer get damp.For the marinadeCombine the sherry, the olive oil, the ginger, garlic, thyme and hot sauce (to taste). Add salt and pepper to taste and mix ‘em up. Let it sit for a while.For the vegetable kabobsCut the Spanish onion and the yellow bell pepper (remove the stems and seeds) into pieces that are about the same size as your cherry tomatoes.Take a piece of onion, put it on the skewer, followed by a cherry tomato and a piece of yellow bell pepper. Then add another piece of onion, a tomato, a piece of pepper. Your skewer should be full. Make 4 skewers.For the seafood kabobsTake a shrimp. Pierce it with a skewer, going through the bottom of the shrimp, and then through the top. Then add a scallop—pierce it through the side. Add another shrimp. Then a scallop. That’s 1 skewer—2 shrimp and 2 scallops.
Make 4 skewers. Put the seafood and vegetable skewers in a large baking dish, and drizzle the marinade over them. Refrigerate for an hour or so.Heat up the grill! Set the heat to medium, and when the grill is nice and warm, add the 4 vegetable kabobs. Cook for 5 to 7 minutes, and then turn.Put the seafood kabobs on the grill.Now, while the seafood kabobs cook, pour the leftover marinade from the baking dish into a small sauté pan and reduce over medium-low heat while the kabobs cook.When the seafood kabobs have cooked for 3 to 4 minutes, turn over. Cook for another 3 or 4 more minutes, until done. The seafood and the vegetable kabobs should be done around the same time. Remove to a platter, drizzle with the reduced marinade, and...
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!
Grilled Salmon with Marsala and Merci, Philipe!
Grilled Salmon Marsala with Grilled Vegetables in World War II
My Dad told me that when his platoon was going across France behind General Patton in World War II, the towns they liberated were really grateful. How grateful?In one town, as they went past an exuberant, cheering crowd, a woman grabbed my Dad, dragged him into her bedroom and made love to him right then and there.Now that’s gratitude.Before the war, my Dad was drifting. He went to St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland. He wasn’t a good student. They put him in charge of the college café. He took some money out of the coffers, and in a valiant effort to try and double the cash, lost it all in a late-night poker game. He was asked to leave the school.Soon after, he joined the Army and went to Europe to fight in World War II. It was a hellish and brutal experience that made my Dad a man. His father, Romollo, died of a heart attack while my father was away at war. They were close; he couldn’t go back for the funeral. It was one of the loneliest times of my Dad’s life.After the war, he went back to St. John’s. He became a good student. He graduated. He went to law school. He became a lawyer. He did all of this with no money — he was the son of poor Italian immigrants.He became a member of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights. He helped start the Peace Corps. He wrote speeches for Vice President Hubert Humphrey. He became a professor of philosophy and literature.World War II, the toughest time of his life, turned out to be his proudest moment, the turning point that changed his life in the best way possible.
My Dad was in the XVth Corps; they followed General Patton’s 3rd Army through France, liberating town after town. One of the towns the XVth Corps liberated was Lunéville, a small town in northeastern France, about 50 miles from the German border. Lunéville was still being bombed and strafed by the Germans. My Dad was patrolling the streets one day, when he heard a German Stuka approaching. Stukas were small bombers, two-seaters that also had machine guns. My Dad saw a one-armed Frenchman, frozen with fear.My Dad ran over, grabbed the Frenchman, and pushed him to the ground and covered him, bombs exploding, bullets flying. When the Stuka passed, the guy thanked my Dad, and insisted he come to dinner. My Dad spoke French; he had acted as an interpreter for the Army on quite a few occasions. He accepted the invitation. That night, my Dad had dinner with the Frenchman and his wife in their modest home. They sat and drank plum brandy after dinner as the Frenchman, a former captain in the French Army in World War I, told stories. He was a decorated war hero who had lost his arm in World War I. The German army had recently ransacked his home, taking his car and guns and war medals.Things got quiet when the captain started talking about his daughter, Jacqueline. He started crying as he explained that Jacqueline had been visiting a friend in a nearby town when the D-Day invasion took place and all hell broke loose. He hadn’t heard from her since. He feared the worse. He wanted to try and find his daughter, but the Germans had taken his car and guns. The Frenchman showed my Dad a photo. She was beautiful. My Dad offered to see what he could do to bring the daughter back. The Frenchman and his wife were ecstatic.My Dad left and went back to the makeshift barracks. He told the story of Jacqueline to his buddy Frank. He told Frank that he had offered to try and rescue Jacqueline. Frank thought my Dad was crazy. Or drunk. Or both.The next day, my Dad dragged Frank to see the French captain. My Dad told him they’d need a map, the address of the place Jacqueline had last visited, a letter from the captain so Jacqueline would know who they were, and the photo. The French captain gave them everything plus a 5,000-franc note for Jacqueline.My Dad and Frank left, and went back to the barracks. They were both on a two-day leave. Frank reluctantly agreed to help. But they didn’t have a jeep. They went over to the nurses quarters after sundown, figuring there might be a few male visitors who might have “borrowed” a jeep to get there.Frank and my Dad found a jeep and rolled it down the hill and started it. It had a mounted machine gun between the seats. The headlights had been blackened into little slits, and were of little use. They drove in the night. It started to rain. The windshield had been removed, so visibility was low. There were small pockets of German soldiers still in the area, and there were rumors of German soldiers dressed as civilians.My Dad and Frank were trying to get to Heudicourt-sous-les-Cotes, a small town about 60 miles away where Jacqueline had last visited. The rain and the lack of visibility slowed them down; they made it halfway there, soaked to the bone and dead-tired. They slept on the floor of a roadside house that belonged to a Frenchwoman who let them doze in front of her fireplace, so they could dry off and rest.The next day they made it to Heudicourt. They went to the address and showed the woman the photo and the letter. She explained that Jacqueline had caught a ride a few days before to stay with an uncle in Verdun, a small town 25 miles to the north. She gave them the address, and my Dad and Frank took offVerdun is close to the German border. It had recently been liberated by the Allies, but was still being attacked by the Nazis.
Frank and my Dad made it to Verdun, and found Jacqueline at her uncle’s house. My Dad gave her the letter and the 5,000-franc note. She started crying. Then she packed a small bag, said goodbye to her uncle, and my Dad put her in the back of the jeep and covered her with a blanket. There were still clusters of German soldiers roaming about. My Dad and Frank took off, Frank driving, machine gun mounted between them, Jacqueline in the back, bouncing around under the blanket as the jeep flew down the small country roads.They stopped at a town called Metz to gas up at an American motor pool. The MPs warned them about groups of German soldiers. As they were getting ready to take off, Jacqueline poked her head out. The MPs saw her. Before they could react, Frank floored the jeep and drove like mad to Lunéville . They got there at midnight. Frank dropped off my Dad and Jacqueline at her house and took the jeep back.Jacqueline ran inside and there were tears and laughter and hugs and shrieks of joy. My Dad stood in the doorway. The one-armed Frenchman kept pumping his one good arm in the air, crying and screaming, “Merci, Philippe! Merci, Philippe!”GRILLED SALMON MARSALA AND GRILLED VEGETABLES
I was at my Dad’s house when I concocted this recipe. It was Memorial Day weekend. He lives on top of a mountain, in the Catskills of New York. It’s incredibly beautiful. It’s also incredibly isolated - which can make you crazy after a while. Just look at me.When my Dad first got the place, he wanted it to be rustic. And that it was. It was just a square, cinderblock two-story structure that looked more like a garage than a cabin. The ground floor was well, it was the ground. It was dirt. The second floor was unpainted plywood, and there was a gas stove up there, and that’s where I slept.The stove is what we used for heat. For the whole place. Keep in mind; it gets down to below zero in the winter. There’s snow on the ground from November until March. And there was no plumbing. None. There was an outhouse, and it was pretty scary; especially late at night, when you had to walk 50 yards through the snow to go to the bathroom. That’s the way my Dad wanted it. Rough. No frills. No phones. No TV.That didn’t last very long. The thought may have been romantic, but there’s nothing romantic about getting up in the morning and walking across the frozen tundra to go to the bathroom in what is really just a hole in the ground. A stinking hole.And now? My Dad has three bathrooms, all indoors. The one on the second floor has a claw-foot bathtub with a view of the mountains. He has a big screen hi-definition TV, a satellite dish that gets a thousand channels, and the whole house has wireless internet. He has a phone. He even has a cell phone now. Now my Dad is all plugged in, hooked up, and well connected, which is a good thing, especially during the brutal winter months.
Rat Tail Ridge is a great place to grill in the summer, when it’s cool and breezy on top of that mountain. You’ve got a beautiful view, quite breathtaking. Batu loves it up there.Note: the salmon steaks I used were about an inch and a half thick. Keep in mind that thicker pieces of salmon take longer, and thinner pieces take less time. Also, some grills run real hot, some not-so-hot. No wonder it took me so long to get this recipe right. But I finally nailed it.Also, trim your asparagus. Grab an asparagus spear. Hold the top end in between the forefinger and thumb of your left hand, and hold the bottom end with the thumb and forefinger of your right hand, and bend until it breaks. Throw away the stalk end.There are two kinds of Marsala—sweet and dry. Sweet is the way to go. Sweet!Ingredients:For the sauce1 cup sweet Marsala (a wine from Sicily) or sweet vermouth¼ cup extra virgin olive oil¼ cup fresh squeezed lemon juice (use ripe, soft lemons, or Meyer lemons—remove the seeds)1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano, plus a couple sprigs for garnish (you can use a teaspoon of dried oregano if you can’t find fresh)2 cloves of garlicFor the salmon and vegetables4 salmon steaksA dozen small potatoes cut in half (I used purple potatoes–found them in a local market)A bunch of asparagus (16 or so), trimmed6 Roma tomatoes cut in half length-wiseExtra virgin olive oilKosher saltFresh ground black pepperA small bunch of fresh chivesA handful of fresh basil leaves1 tablespoon of balsamic vinegarHere we go…Add all the sauce ingredients (except the garlic) in a small bowl. Mix. Put the garlic in a garlic press, and squeeze it into the sauce—you can also mince the garlic if you don’t have a press. Put the sauce in a small pan over low heat, and let it reduce while you grill.Rinse off the salmon steaks, pat dry with paper towels, and drizzle both sides with olive oil. Then give a shake of salt and pepper on each side.Keep your vegetables on separate plates. Take the potatoes, drizzle with olive oil, add salt and pepper, and make sure they’re coated well. Do the same with the asparagus, and the tomatoes – but be gentle. Don’t mangle your ‘maters.Heat your grill up! We want it to be medium heat; if it’s too hot, things will burn.The potatoes take the longest, about 20 minutes. Put them on first, cook for 10 minutes (depending on the heat of the grill) and then turn ’em over.Put the asparagus and the salmon on the grill, and cook for about 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, turn over the asparagus and the salmon.Add the Roma tomatoes to the grill, flat side down.Cook the asparagus, salmon and tomatoes for 5 minutes. Don’t turn over the tomatoes!Remove everything to a gorgeous platter.Use a scissors and snip some fresh chives on top of the potatoes.Snip some fresh basil on the tomatoes.Drizzle a little balsamic vinegar on the asparagus.Dish it up! Put a salmon steak on a plate. Take the reduced Marsala sauce and drizzle some on top. Add some asparagus, potatoes, and tomatoes. Garnish with a fresh oregano sprig.MANGIAMO!!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Seared Scallops with Rosemary
After BootCamp broke up, I decided to circle the wagons. So I gathered up the mules and the Conestogas, and sat by the campfire, trying to figure out my next move. One night, after getting kicked in the head by one of the jackasses, I came to the realization that I needed to go back into the studio and start writing and recording again.So that’s what I did. Monday through Thursday, from 10 AM until 3 PM, I wrote songs. The studio was owned by Rick O’Rick, AKA Cowboy Pickles; it was right outside of Washington, DC.I’d leave Baltimore at 9 AM, drive an hour to the studio, write and record for five hours, then drive back.At night, I was singing in piano bars. I had decided to learn all my favorite songs, to find out what made them work. From Sinatra to Elvis to Motown, I studied and learned every hit song I ever loved. I would sing these songs and play piano at restaurants in and around Baltimore, Maryland. I also had a blues band — The Scrappy Harris Blues Band. We played every Wednesday night at a dive bar called The Horse You Came In On.That was my Life After BootCamp. I played piano bar. I played the blues. I wrote songs--all kinds of songs.I wrote a rock song and needed a singer for the demo. Someone had mentioned the name Brian Jack. I looked him up. He was in a band called Child’s Play. They had released an album on a major label, and had just broken up after being dropped. I reached out to Brian and asked him to sing one of my songs.I picked him up — he didn’t have a car – and drove him to the studio. He walked in, opened his mouth and sang that song like he’d sung it a hundred times. It was magic. Everyone who heard the song loved it, and loved his voice – he sounded like Bryan Adams meets Rod Stewart.I continued writing songs with Brian in mind. I’d write a song. I’d get everything done - all the guitars, keyboards, bass, backing vocals, horns, everything. I’d go pick up Brian, drive him to the studio, and he would sing, as I guided him along. It took us an hour a song – at most – to do the vocals.That’s the way it got started. We became the best of friends.
I wrote. I produced. Brian sang. He had an amazing voice.
After about a year, when I had 12 songs finished, I suggested we put out a CD. I borrowed some money to get the CDs made. Rick O’Rick and I took care of the studio bill. Brian did the artwork. He sent it off to the manufacturer. When we got the CDs back, I was pretty shocked when I read the back cover…All songs written by Brian Jack and Tim Camp.Dayuummm, son! Ain't that a kick in the head! Brian hadn’t written one word, hadn’t written one note of music. When I asked him why he listed himself as songwriter on the credits, he said,“I always wanted to be a songwriter.”I suggested that he might start by writing his own songs, not by putting his name on mine. There was no way I could afford to get the credits changed. Not on this batch of CDs. I figured I’d correct the songwriting credits if we re-ordered more.The CD took off like a rocket. We were getting airplay on the big rock station in Baltimore. Lots of airplay. Brian put together a band. He asked me to play keyboards. I didn’t want to. I had just finished the BootCamp saga, and I was in no hurry to play in a rock band again. But Jackson — that’s what I called him — insisted. I started playing keyboards in his live show.He was packing 1,000 seat clubs. Jackson put together an incredible show. At one club called Hammerjacks, he hung a rope from the ceiling, which was 20 feet high. He would swing from the stage up into the balcony, hold the railing, sing a few notes, and then swing back on stage.He was like Tarzan, bare-foot and bare-chested, swinging from the rafters, screaming at the top of his lungs. He was selling out wherever he went. He had a great voice, along with charm, looks, charisma and stage presence.And he had incredible hair, which is the most important thing in the music binniz.I started calling some folks I knew in the music business. I hooked Brian up with my attorney – who’s also my close friend – who hooked Brian up with a manager, Dee Anthony. Dee came out to a show. He loved it.Dee Anthony started off as a road manager for Tony Bennett. Dee went on to manage Peter Frampton, J. Geils, Devo, and Basia, among others. His daughter, Michelle, was a bigwig at SONY/Epic.Brian signed with Dee. Dee signed Brian to SONY/Epic. Frankie LaRocca was hired to produce — he had just come off a big hit with the Spin Doctors. The future looked mighty bright.When it came time for Brian to record his CD for Epic, I found out that none of my songs would be included. Dee was under the impression that Brian had co-written all of the songs we had recorded. Dee then set Brian up to write all new songs with other big-name writers. I was out. Like Tom Hagen in The Godfather, I was out.Epic rented the finest studios, hired big-name musicians. When they heard the first batch of new songs, they didn’t like them. Epic decided to abandon ship. After spending $40,000 they dropped Brian. He hadn’t even finished half the CD.I didn’t see Brian much after the Epic disaster. I went back into the studio by myself and started writing again. I wasn’t writing for anybody but me this time. I just wrote whatever came to mind. After a few months, I put all of these songs together and decided to do a CD of my own.
I needed a CD cover, so a friend arranged for a photographer to shoot some photos of my donkey face. I sat at the piano and he took pictures. After the photo shoot, I made dinner.As we were having dinner, I asked the photographer what kind of stuff he liked to photograph. He told me he was a forensic photographer for the police department.So…The guy who shot the front cover of the very first Slim Man CD took photos of dead bodies for a living. Come to think of it, the front cover for End of the Rainbow does look a little morose. But even that didn’t stop it from being one of the Top Ten Jazz CDs for the whole year.One door closes, another one opens.SEARED SCALLOPS
I have a great friend named Clubby Clubb who lives in Ocean City, Maryland – he was also good friends with Brian. Clubby Clubb has the most incredible wine store and deli a block from the beach. He lives a charmed life. He only works six months a year, April to September. The rest of the year?Mostly, he goes fishing. He plays with his kids.One day when I told him I wanted some fresh scallops, he told me about a bayside fish store where the boats bring everything in fresh each morning, to service the resort restaurants.I went there one morning and they had these incredible scallops. I love scallops and I created a way of searing them that is so quick, so simple and so delicious that you are going to send me a million dollars after you try these.Make all checks out to Mr. Man.Scallops are expensive—I’ve seen them as high as $36 a pound. I found them for $20 a pound recently, and bought a pound. There were 10 big scallops, which I seared. They were delizioso!One last note - make sure you buy dry scallops. This is very important. Your fish guy should know. Wet scallops are injected with chemicals and crap and are impossible to sear.Buy dry scallops, and gently rinse them. Then gently pat them dry with paper towels. Keep patting them dry until the paper towels are no longer damp. Even dry scallops retain a bit of water. Water ain’t good for the searing process! Capisce?And finally, if you don’t like prosciutto, just leave it out. You can still pierce the scallops with the rosemary—without the prosciutto.INGREDIENTS
10 dry sea scallops, about one pound10 slices of prosciutto, sliced thin, fat trimmed off10 thin rosemary sprigs, each at least 4 inches longA little brown sugar or turbinado sugar (you can use regular sugar in a pinch)Salt (I use kosher salt)Fresh cracked black pepper1 tablespoon butter1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oilHere we go...Rinse off the scallops and pat dry with paper towels. Remove the small side muscle from each scallop, and discard - the muscle, not the scallop! Place the scallops on a plate.Take a slice of prosciutto, and trim it so it’s about the same size as the scallop. Remove some of the fat if you like, and wrap it around the sides of the scallop. I wrap the prosciutto around once, and slice off the remaining prosciutto.Then, take a sprig of rosemary, about 4 inches long, and strip off about an inch of the leaves from the bottom of the sprig. Take the bottom end of the rosemary sprig, and pierce it through the side of the scallop, to hold the prosciutto in place.The end without the leaves should be poking out of one side of the scallop, and the other end – the top of the sprig – should be poking out of the other side of the scallop.Do this with all 10 scallops.Add a sprinkle of brown sugar, salt and pepper to the top of all 10 scallops.
Put a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of olive oil. When the butter starts to bubble and turn brown, place the scallops in the pan, salted/peppered/sugared side down.Cook for 90 seconds, 2 minutes maximum. As they cook, add a LITTLE salt, pepper, and brown sugar on top of each scallop.Use some tongs to turn each scallop over. Before you set each scallop back in the pan, swirl the butter and olive oil around in the pan, so you’re not placing the scallop in a dry pan. Cook for 90 seconds, 2 minutes maximum on the other side.Remove the scallops with some tongs. Make sure the scallops are done. Cooking times can vary according to the heat of your stove and the thickness of the scallops.Dish it up! You can serve these over some wild greens, with some tomatoes on the side. Or eat them all by themselves.
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!