Pesto and Fishing with PapsMy Dad walked into the TV room on the second floor and his head was bleeding. We three kids were trying not to laugh.My Dad had a workbench in the basement. The ceiling was low, and there were two large iron water pipes right behind the work area. When you turned around to go upstairs, you had to duck under the pipes to avoid cracking your skull.My Dad hit his head all the time. You could hear the “BOING!” all the way up on the second floor. It was always followed by a yell,“SUNNUVABITCH!”We three kids thought it was the funniest thing in the world.Maybe it was because we loved the Three Stooges so much. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, when our Dad hurt himself, we found it ridiculously funny.We called my Dad "Paps." He was a professor of literature at the State University of New York, and one of his favorite books was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Huck had an alcoholic father who used to get drunk, beat him and chain him to chairs. Huck called his Dad "Paps." I read the book and thought it would be funny if we called our Dad "Paps", too. It stuck.For the record, our Paps did not get drunk and beat us and chain us to chairs. But I’m sure he might have felt like it when we laughed at his bleeding head.Paps used to take us fishing. It was a lot of fun for us. It couldn’t have been fun for him.Fishing seems like a cruel sport. Somebody finds out what your favorite food is and what time you like to eat. They dangle it front of you, and when you take a bite; they hook you by the lips and drag you around.One summer, my Dad and Mom rented a house near the beach on Fenwick Island, Delaware. It wasn’t fancy; just a simple white cottage on stilts by the Atlantic Ocean. We had the place for a week. There was a boat rental place on the bayside not far from the house.
One sunny summer day, Paps piled us three monsters in the back of the pale green Plymouth station wagon and drove over to the boat rental place. He rented a small wooden boat with an egg-beater engine on the back. He grabbed his rods and reels, the bait, and us three knuckleheads, and we walked out on the pier.There was a boat ramp on the side of the pier. The tide was high, and the ramp was covered in water. People were slowly backing their boats down the ramp and into the bay. On the other side of the pier were the rental boats. We all piled into one, Paps pulled the starter cord, and the motor revved up. We went motoring away, out into the wild blue yonder.Little Assawoman Bay. That really was the name of the bay. Big Assawoman Bay was the larger one, right next to it. It sounds like I’m kidding, but I’m not.We motored out for quite a ways and dropped anchor in Little Assawoman. My Dad got all of our rods baited up and we dropped our lines into the water. Then he got his rod, attached his brand new lure, and casted. He slowly drew the line in. We kids sat and waited for the fish to bite. We were not patient children.Paps usually stood at the front of the boat. His back would be to us. I would sneak up behind my Dad, and jiggle the butt end of his fishing rod, so it felt like he had a fish.Paps would jerk his rod suddenly and pull his line toward him like he was landing a blue marlin.“SUNNUVABITCH!”Then he would realize I’d played a joke. I’m surprised he didn’t throw me overboard.We didn’t take fishing very seriously, but my Dad did. Anything my Dad caught, he’d keep. He once caught an eel, kept it and made a tomato sauce with it. It was awful.Paps would catch blowfish and keep them. Blowfish puff up like balloons when you catch them. Most people don’t eat them. My Dad did. We didn’t.Paps could have pulled an old tire into the boat and I’m pretty sure he would have tried to make a sauce out of it. Just about anything he pulled into that boat, he’d keep.Except once.That day, when we were fishing off the side of the boat, my Dad’s rod bent over. He must have hooked something big. Or heavy. Or both. He reeled it in. It took him a while. Keep in mind; we’re in the Little Assawoman Bay. Not a lot of real big fish in there.When Paps got it to the side of the boat, he screamed for us to get the net. We scrambled, and the boat started rocking, almost knocking him into the water.I got the net, and pulled this big, ugly fish on board. It was the ugliest fish I’d ever seen. It had a big, wide mouth, with nasty-looking sharp teeth. My Dad’s brand new and very expensive lure was stuck in the back of the fish’s mouth, right behind all those sharp teeth.Paps decided to cut off the fish’s head right then and there, and retrieve the lure later. He cut off the head, and threw the body of the fish back in the water. Paps put the bloody severed head of the fish on the bottom of the boat. It was a joy-killer. We kids wanted to go back in.Paps didn’t look too happy as we pulled in our lines. He pulled up the small anchor, and we headed back to the pier. It took us a while. My Dad wasn’t the greatest captain in the world, but we eventually found our way back, after hitting a couple of sand bars, and missing a couple buoys.Paps pulled the boat up to the pier. We tied it up, and we three kids got out of the boat and stood on the pier. My Dad stayed in the boat. We watched as Paps grabbed the bloody fish head, and stuck his hand inside its mouth to pull out his pricey lure.The severed fish head clamped down on my Dad’s hand.“SUNNUVABITCH!”Paps let out a yell, and tried to shake off the fish head. It wouldn’t release its grip. Paps was waving his hand in the air, thrashing his arm around, but the severed fish head wouldn’t let go.We kids would have tried to help him, but we were laughing too hard.The dead fish head eventually released its grip, and got flung way up in the air. It landed in the water with a splash. My Dad’s very expensive lure was gone. His hand was bleeding. He got out of the boat, and walked past us hyenas to the boat ramp.Paps walked down the boat ramp. He was going to rinse his bloody hand off in the bay water. Only problem was -the tide had gone out. The ramp was covered in slick wet moss. When my Dad hit the slippery part, his feet flew up in the air, and he let out a yell,“SUNNUVABITCH!”Then he landed on his ass with a thud you could hear across the ocean. People in Paris felt a rumble. We saw the whole thing. We could not stop laughing. I’m surprised we didn’t roll off the pier and fall in Little Assawoman Bay.Paps was lying there on his ass, hand bleeding, and having trouble getting back up. He kept slipping. All we could do was laugh. Seriously.This was probably one of those times when Paps might have felt like getting drunk and beating us and chaining us to a chair. But he didn’t. Whenever I told that story, he’d be the one laughing the hardest.
PAP’S PESTOPaps made pesto before pesto was cool. He had a bunch of basil beds in front of his cabin on top of the Catskill mountains. Rat Tail Ridge. That’s what his place was called.When the basil was ready, we’d pick it and go back to the house. We’d wash the leaves, and Paps would make pesto. He put it in small jars and sold it to local food stores. It was really delicious.Pesto in Italian means paste, and this blend of basil, cheese, garlic, pine nuts, and olive oil is delizioso. The recipe originates in Genoa, Italy. I had to Slimmify it a bit.I like to use toasted pine nuts, rather than plain. Toasted pine nuts taste better, that’s all. I place a dry skillet over medium-high heat, toss in the nuts, and flip them around ’til they’re light brown. Keep an eye on your nuts--don’t burn ‘em!!This recipe calls for both Parmigiano-Reggiano and Romano Pecorino cheese. Parmigiano is a sweeter cheese. Pecorino is saltier. The blend of the two is wonderful.However, in a pinch I have used just Parmigiano, and it tastes great like that, too.Paps used pesto in all kinds of dishes. He put it over pasta. He used a dollop in soups. He made omelettes with it. Use your imagination - I’ve put it on chicken and fish. I once made shrimp with pesto for the Food Network.Makes one generous cup of pesto.
INGREDIENTS:2 cups fresh basil leaves, cleaned½ cup extra virgin olive oil8 tablespoons of pine nuts (pignoli), toasted (1/2 cup)2 cloves garlic, peeled½ teaspoon of salt½ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese½ cup freshly grated Romano Pecorino cheeseHere we go…Put the basil, ½ cup of olive oil, 4 tablespoons of the toasted pine nuts, the garlic and the salt in a blender and blend, baby, blend. You can also use a food processor.When everything is smooth, transfer to a bowl and slowly blend in the grated cheeses by hand. Or better yet, use a spatula.
That’s it.If you want to serve it over pasta, farfalle works well.Get a large pot, fill it with cold water, and put it on the highest heat. When it boils rapidly, toss in 2 tablespoons of kosher salt and a pound of pasta.Follow the cooking instructions on the side of the pasta box. Two minutes before the pasta is supposed to be done, start tasting. Take a piece of pasta, and bite into it. If it’s chalky in the center it is not done. Check the pasta every 2 minutes or so. It might take longer than the instructions on the box say.When the pasta is firm to the bite (al dente), drain and transfer it to a warm bowl. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and mix.Scoop some the pesto sauce from its bowl, about ¼ cup, and add it to the pasta. Toss well, but be gentle. You can add some more pesto if it doesn’t look like there’s enough.Dish it up! Put a small amount of pasta on a plate. Add a little sprinkle of grated cheese, Parmigiano or Romano or both.Take some of the remaining toasted pine nuts, and sprinkle on top.Sometimes, I’ll broil a couple chicken breasts, chop ‘em up, and add them to the pasta. Delizioso!
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Asparagus with Parmigiano
Our manager told us about this new television network that was about to launch, a 24-hour network that was going to play nothing but music videos. They were gonna call it…MTV. Music Television.He played us a few videos that were scheduled for rotation, and asked us if we could do a couple like that. We, the boys in the band, looked at each other and told him, ”Yes, we can.”But we didn’t have a lot of time. The launch of MTV was about to happen.Our manager was Carl Griffin (Griff), the same guy who signed me to Motown. Our band was BootCamp. We had just released a 7” vinyl single with two songs, “Hold On to the Night” and “I’m A Victim.” It was doing really well.We had no idea how to make a music video. We didn’t even know what a music video was until Griff showed us the MTV demo reel. But we knew a guy who worked as a cameraman for the local TV station. He worked in the news van, doing live remotes.We called him. He told us he could “borrow” the cameras and stuff from the TV station, but it had to be after hours. My guess is that he was gonna borrow this stuff without asking, because he asked us to keep it on the down-low. The hush-hush.The first video we shot was for the song “Hold on to the Night.” I wanted to shoot the video at night (clever!) on The Block, which is a two-block section of Baltimore Street in downtown Baltimore that has strip clubs, adult bookstores and peep shows. And a hot dog place called Pollack Johnny’s.But how were we gonna get Baltimore Street closed down in the middle of the night, when all the action was going on?I called the Baltimore Police Department. I told them we were shooting a movie with Ben Vereen. It was the first name that came to mind. To my surprise, the BPD agreed to shut down the street. Ben Vereen is an actor and singer, he was pretty popular in Baltimore, had done a bunch of shows there. So the Baltimore Police Department put out the order to close Baltimore Street for a few hours for a movie shoot for Ben Vereen.We showed up with our TV cameraman, and a couple of guitars, and…we had no idea what to do. We had no script. We had no Ben Vereen. We had a boombox and an empty street. It started to drizzle…so we pressed “record” and started rolling. In the rain.Action! We did take after take. The drizzle worked in our favor—it made the street look shiny and cool. The camera guy was really creative. He did takes where he was lying on the wet ground with the camera looking up. He swooped and swerved and shot some crazy footage.Hit Man Howie Z started banging his drumsticks on the side of a trashcan. Some garbage got stuck on one of his sticks, and crap started flying everywhere. The cameraman was getting it all, but if he had panned out, you would have seen a sergeant with the BPD standing next to Howie, yelling at him…“You better clean up all that s**t when you’re done, son!”We did some more takes, and…Maybe the cops finally figured out that this wasn’t a Ben Vereen movie, or maybe the strippers were complaining about us driving away the customers, but the police put a halt to the filming. They took down the barricades, and traffic started flowing slowly down Baltimore Street again.We left without having any idea if what we shot was good, bad or ugly.It’s a wrap! One down. One to go.A friend of mine had just finished working on an Al Pacino movie that was shot in Baltimore, And Justice for All. The filmmakers had used an old courthouse and the old Baltimore City jail for the movie, and the sets were just sitting there vacant, waiting to be torn down.All the props and the furniture had been left behind, completely intact. It would be perfect for the “I’m a Victim" video.Once again, we had to do it all on the hush-hush. We didn’t really have permission to use the vacant And Justice for All set. We just showed up on the sly and started shooting. Our camera guy had “borrowed” the gear from the TV station once again, and we all sneaked into the courthouse and the jail, and commenced with the craziness.For the “I’m A Victim” video, we actually had a vague idea of what we wanted to do. I was going to be a lawyer. Hit Man Howie Z (BootCamp drummer Howard Zizzi) would be the guy on trial, Rob Roberts (Bob Fallin, guitar) was the judge, and Tom Alonso (keyboards) was the stenographer.There wasn’t a real story. It was just us, in a courtroom, clowning around, with our assorted friends as jurors and observers.We just started filming and improvising. The camera guy was shooting everything, trying to get as much footage as possible in the little time we had. We had one camera, that’s it. We didn’t have any microphones, or audio. We just sang along with a battery-powered boombox. We didn’t have any lighting. We didn’t have any assistants or stylists or producers or directors telling us what to do, where to go or what to wear.At one point, we were filming in a jail cell, and the door accidentally slammed shut with a CLANG! I was locked inside and they couldn’t get the door back open. It freaked me out a bit. I have recurring nightmares about being in prison.We were making it all up as we went along. I was just hoping the real cops wouldn’t bust in, and bust us for trespassing and send us to a real jail.We wrapped up—no sense in pressing our luck. Once again, we left the shoot with no idea if what we shot was any good.The cameraman edited both videos on his own. He snuck into the editing suite at the local TV station, and “borrowed” a few hours at a time. He eventually cut all the footage together. He showed us the two videos.They had a certain charm, for sure. Maybe the cinematography wasn’t gonna win an Oscar, and our acting wasn’t gonna keep Robert DeNiro up at night worrying about us stealing his next acting job, but the videos had a unique down-home allure.Griff sent them to MTV. We, the BootCamp Boys, didn’t think much about it after that. We had no idea how big MTV would be.When the network launched, MTV included the two BootCamp videos. They were two of the first 100 videos MTV ever played. They put us in regular rotation. MTV caught fire. We started getting calls…labels, agents, producers.It was an exciting time. I gotta give it to the camera guy. His name is Kurt Kolaja. He did a great job doing everything, from shooting to editing.MTV took off. So did BootCamp. We were in for a crazy ride…Asparagus with Parmigiano
When you’ve just finished a video shoot outside a strip club, ain’t nothing like a little asparagus to make your pee-pee smell funny.I like to use thin asparagus—the size of a pencil. They’re more tender and tastier than the big boys.So try to find asparagus that’s not the size of a tree trunk. As a general rule, the larger the vegetable, the tougher it is.If the asparagus are really thick, you’ll have to peel the skin off the outer stalks.This dish should serve four people, depending on the people. Members of my family eat like horses. That’s why I feed them in the barn.INGREDIENTS1 pound thin asparagus2 tablespoons olive oilKosher saltFresh cracked black pepper¼ cup fresh grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, plus a little more for sprinklingHere we go…Rinse off your asparagus and pat dry with paper towels.Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.You need to break off the bottom ends of the asparagus. Grab an asparagus spear. Grab one end with your thumb and forefinger, and the other end with the thumb and forefinger of your other hand, and bend until it snaps. Discard the bottom end.Do this to all the asparagus. Rinse well, pat dry with paper towels.Put them in a glass or ceramic baking dish.Drizzle with olive oil, about 2 tablespoons.Mix them up; make sure each spear is coated.Add some kosher salt and some freshly cracked black pepper.Mix them up again.Put the dish in the oven.Bake for 15 minutes. Check the asparagus, make sure they’re done. If they ain’t, put ‘em back in for 5 minutes. They should be firm, but not crunchy.Take the dish out of the oven, sprinkle the asparagus with the grated cheese.Set the oven to broil. Put the dish back in the oven for A MINUTE OR TWO! Keep an eye on these guys!When you see the Parmigiano start to brown, take the baking dish out of the oven, try an asparagus spear, make sure it’s done, and dish it up!This dish goes well with Slim chicken Marsala, or chicken Milanese, or lemon chicken.
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!!
Slim Man Cooks a Fritatta
Frittata with Jimi Hendrix
I’d heard Hendrix was coming to town, so I bought two tickets. They were $6.50 apiece.On the day of the Big Show, my friend Jeffe and I — his real name was Jeff, my Mom gave him his nickname — caught the #44 bus from Homeland and headed to downtown Baltimore. We were too young to drive, but old enough to hop a bus downtown.We lived in Govans. It was a working-class neighborhood right next to Homeland, which was where the wealthy folks lived. There was a fence at the end of our dead-end street — Rosebank Avenue — that separated the two.I would cross that fence into Homeland and take the #44 bus downtown to see shows at the Civic Center. At that time of day — in the evening — almost everybody on the bus was black, mostly women who cleaned houses in Homeland, all catching the bus back downtown.The bus stopped right in front of the Civic Center. Jeffe and I got off, and walked to the entrance.I wanted to be first in line. And I was. Jeffe and I waited until the doors opened, and I told him,“We’re walking right on stage. Act like you own the place. If anybody asks, we’re with the light crew.”I walked right up to the stage, strolled up the steps, and five seconds later, I’m backstage, standing next to Mitch Mitchell, Hendrix’s drummer. He was trying to fix his bass drum pedal. He asked me if I’d hold the flashlight.There I was, holding a flashlight in my shaking hands, trying to help Mitch Mitchell fix his drums.He fixed his pedal, I gave him back the flashlight, and I went to the side of the stage and waited for the opening band to start. I felt like I was in some wonderful dream. It didn’t seem real.
The first time I heard Jimi Hendrix was when Rob Grant brought the Are You Experienced? album down to My Mom’s house. We both lived on the same street, Rosebank Avenue. Rob played guitar, and he brought down this new album of this incredible guitar player, Jimi Hendrix.I couldn’t believe my ears. It sounded like music from Mars. I kept staring at the album cover. Hendrix looked like – well like nobody I’d ever seen before, not just him but his whole band. I thought they were the coolest-looking, coolest-sounding band I’d ever heard. His guitar playing was unbelievable.It was one of the reasons I took up the bass. When I heard Hendrix play guitar, I figured maybe I ought to play bass — there are less strings and, after all, how could I ever play like Hendrix?Now here I was, backstage at the Baltimore Civic Center, waiting for Hendrix to play. A band called Cactus opened. Tim Bogert was on bass — he’d played with Vanilla Fudge. Carmine Appice played drums — he’d been with Jeff Beck. And the guitar player?It was Jim McCarty, a blues guitarist who’d played with both Mitch Ryder and Buddy Miles.When Cactus started playing, I was behind the huge red velvet curtain. I was standing on the side of the stage. Jeffe was on the other side of the stage. We could see each other. The sold-out crowd couldn’t see us, but we could see them. Cactus started playing.I felt a tap on my shoulder.I heard a voice say, “This guy’s pretty good.”I turned my head. It was Jimi Hendrix. I was amazed. I was just hiding out on the side of the stage hoping security wouldn’t take me away in handcuffs, and here I am, standing next to Hendrix.We stood shoulder to shoulder for twenty minutes, watching Jim McCarty play guitar with Cactus.I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t speak. Jeffe was on the other side of the stage, going nuts. Pointing his finger. Making animated faces.All I did was stand there, trying to be cool, with Hendrix at my side.Cactus finished and Hendrix went on stage. Billy Cox was on bass and Mitch Mitchell on drums. There is some footage on YouTube of the concert, and Hendrix’s guitar-playing is jaw-dropping, show-stopping, some-kinda-wonderful.
The date was June 13, 1970. Hendrix played his heart out. I saw the whole show from 10 yards away.It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Jimi Hendrix. The first time was also at the Baltimore Civic Center; May, 16, 1969. Noel Redding played bass, Mitch Mitchell played drums. That show was incredible, too. It was an amazing time for music.How amazing? Nine days later, I went to Merriweather Post Pavilion, an outdoor venue outside of Baltimore. Merriweather was designed by Frank Gehry, it is a natural amphitheater, with a stage and seats at the bottom, and a large lawn up top, where you can lay on a blanket and watch the show down below. I had seen the Doors there. I had seen Frank Sinatra there. But on May 25, 1969, I was there to see Led Zeppelin.They were opening for The Who. I loved both bands.It was the only time Led Zeppelin and the Who appeared on stage together. What an incredible evening, sitting on the lawn in late spring, listening to two bands that would make musical history.Here’s the crazy thing. Last year, I was at a funky little grocery store in a funky part of Nashville and I saw Robert Plant, the lead singer for Led Zeppelin, in line. He had a 12-pack of Miller High Life beer behind him — although I’m not sure it was his.Nobody recognized him. I did. I had to say something.I walked up to him and said, “I saw you do a concert with the Who in Baltimore back in 1969.”Robert Plant looked at me and said, “I remember that show. I didn’t want to do it.”“Why not?”“I always thought we were better than they were.”“Well, I’m glad you did that show. It changed my life.”
And then I snapped a photo.Those two shows in 1969 did change my life. Those nine days in May had a monstrous musical impact on a young knucklehead like me.FRITTATAIf you ever want a wonderful breakfast after a big rock concert, don’t ask me to cook. I’m not very good with breakfast. I’ve messed up simple fried eggs. I’ve mangled pancakes. I’ve even screwed up oatmeal. All on a regular basis. So you know what I eat almost every morning?Fruit.That’s right, fruit. I try to eat nothing but fruit until noon. The key to this plan is to sleep until 12:30.But really, fruit is what I eat all morning. I like bananas. Old people with no teeth can eat bananas. Little kids with no teeth can eat bananas. They’re easy on the stomach. They come with their own wrapper. They’re cheap. They’re around all year. And they’re almost always good. You can spot a bad banana a mile away.I mean, sometimes with apples you get what you think is a good one, and it ends up tasting like mush. And cantaloupes? A crap shoot. Mangoes? Good luck.I like kiwi fruit. They’re weird, but cool. I like berries. Come to think of it, there’s not a fruit I don’t like, although pomegranates can be a little difficult. But I love their juice!I’m really good at making frittatas. A frittata is like an omelette, except it isn’t folded. You can stick anything in a frittata, just like an omelette – onion, peppers, cheese – but you know what I like to do?I take leftovers and beat them in with the eggs. For instance, when I cook my famous fish dish, Salmon Ella (inspired while listening to Ella Fitzgerald), I use the leftovers the next day in my frittata (my recipe is on page XX). I once used leftover asparagus and leftover scalloped potatoes in a frittata. It was incredible.For this recipe, I used some leftover farfalle pasta with cauliflower and bread crumbs. It was delizioso. The key to frittatas? Cook ’em low and slow on the stovetop, then slip ’em under the broiler for a minute to make the top to golden brown. The toughest part of cooking a frittata? Getting it out of the pan. I’ll tell you how.It is best to use a pan that has an oven-proof handle, so it won’t melt when you put the frittata under the broiler. You can also slide the frittata out of the pan onto an oven-proof plate, and broil it that way.Here goes…Serves four (unless you’re living with teenagers, in which case this serves one)
Ingredients8 eggs1 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheeseAbout 2 cups of leftover pasta (or salmon, or risotto, or…)2 tablespoons butterFresh ground black pepper and kosher salt to taste.Let’s Do It!Break the eggs in a large bowl. Add the cheese. Mix’em up.Add the leftover pasta, or leftover whatever, and mix’em up. Add salt and pepper.Put a large pan on medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons of butter.When the butter melts, add the eggs/cheese/leftover mixture.Smooth it out on top; you don’t want a lumpy frittata!Turn the heat to low, and let it cook for about 15 to 18 minutes. The top might be a little jiggly, but the rest should be firm. If it isn’t, cook it until it is.Next, set the broiler on high, and put the frittata under the broiler for a minute or two. We want it to be golden on top. Keep your eyes on it!Once golden, remove the pan from the broiler and let it cool for a minute or two.Take a spatula, and loosen the sides of the frittata from the pan. Slide it onto a platter.If you have a hard time getting the frigate out of the pan, take a large plate/platter, one that fits over the pan like a lid. Place it over top of the pan, and flip the pan over!The frittata will come out of the pan, and onto the plate.The only problem is the brown/bottom side is now up, and the pretty side is facedown.So, take another plate/platter the same size, put it on top of the plate with the frittata.Flip it over, and there you go! Pretty side up!Dish it up!
MANGIAMO!