Pasta CarbonaraYou can only eat pasta carbonara a couple times a year. Any more than that and you’ll have to walk around with a defibrillator duct-taped to your chest. It’s a heart-stoppin’, artery-poppin’ dish that might kill ya.It’s one of my favorites.This is my own version. I added white wine, which gives it a little kick. But if you’re having it for breakfast—it is after all eggs and bacon—you might want to leave out the wine. You might…I don’t.I use Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, most recipes call for Romano, which I find a little too salty for this. You got enough sodium in the pancetta to float a boat, so I use Parmigiano, which is a little sweeter.The name comes from the Italian word for coal, carbona. Legend has it that coal miners would put a couple eggs, a piece of pancetta (Italian bacon) and a hunk of cheese in their pockets, and make this on their lunch break, all in one pot.Putting eggs in your pocket doesn’t sound like a good idea to me, but what the hell do I know? 
INGREDIENTS:3 eggs1 cup fresh grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese2 tablespoons fresh Italian flat leaf parsley, choppedFresh cracked black pepper8 ounces pancetta, diced into tiny pieces4 cloves of garlic, peeled, and smashed/flattened with the broad side of a knife¼ cup white wine1 pound of spaghetti We’ll do this all in real time. Here goes:Get a large pot. Fill it with cold water. Put it on the highest heat you got. As it heats up…Get a large bowl, one big enough to hold all the pasta and stuff.Break three eggs into the bowl. Add the cheese. Add the chopped parsley. Add some fresh cracked black pepper. Hold off on the salt for now—the pancetta can be a bit salty, so you don’t really need any extra.Beat all this stuff with a fork. Now let’s cook our pancetta.Pancetta is Italian bacon. So treat it like bacon. Don’t be flippin’ it all around. You want it to brown on each side. So let it brown!Get a small fry pan. Put it over medium heat. Put the diced pancetta in. Let it brown for about 3 to 5 minutes.Flip it over, give it a stir, let it brown on the other side, 3 to 5 minutes.When the pancetta is done, use a slotted spoon get it out of the pan. Put it in the bowl with the eggs and stuff. Give it a stir.You should have some pancetta drippings in the bottom of the pan. Get rid of most of the drippings. You want to leave a little in the bottom of the pan, just enough to fry the garlic.Put the pan on medium-low heat.Add the garlic, cook for a couple minutes on each side until golden.Turn up the heat to high. Add the wine; let it cook off for a minute or so. Turn off the heat.Back to the pasta…when the pasta water comes to a boil, add a couple tablespoons of kosher salt. Add the pasta.When the pasta is al dente, drain it well.IMMEDIATELY toss the pasta into the bowl with the eggs. Add the pancetta and garlic, straight from the pan. Toss gently for a minute or two. You want the heat from the pasta and the pancetta to cook the eggs.When it all looks right, plate it up. Garnish with a piece of parsley, 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 Shrimp Scampi
Shrimp Scampi with Siri
A few years ago, I was at a restaurant in Greektown in Baltimore, Maryland. It was Christmastime, and a friend had invited me to a business dinner. The two guys across from me were looking down at their cell phones. I got curious.“Does one of you have a wife who’s pregnant? A Mom in the hospital? A cousin on death row waiting for a stay of execution?”“No.”I asked them who they were texting. They were texting each other. Nice. I told myself right then that I would never be like those guys.And now? Well, I’m not as bad as those guys, but I’m getting close.I got the iPhone when it first came out. I had it for a week and then took it back. It was pinging, dinging, ringing and it was getting on my nerves. It got so bad I was thinking of developing a new app - the iQuit app. Here’s how it was going to work: you go to the river, throw your iPhone in, and scream “I QUIT!”I just didn’t want to be that connected. I just wanted a phone so I could talk to my relatives in the mental institution. I took the iPhone back.I got a regular cell phone. It never worked right. I had so many problems with it. I think it might have been possesed by an evil spirit. For example, a friend texted me a photo of her beautiful 25 year-old daughter and somehow it became my screensaver. That didn’t go over too well with the Ex. I tried to explain. She didn’t believe me.My phone dialed 911 on a regular basis. The callbacks from the cops were so frequent they came to know me by my first name. “Slim? Everything OK?”Text messages would go to random contacts. Lovey dovey notes meant for a certain someone would get sent to business associates. It was crazy. Like a bad relationship, I stayed with that phone way too long. Neil Sedaka said it best, ”Breaking Up Is Hard To Do.” It was time to move on.So I got another iPhone. It only cost $99 through Sprint, because I’d been a customer since the First World War. I liked the iPhone, but I didn’t see what the big deal was. I made phone calls. I sent texts. That was about it.Then, one day I was in Nashville at a very cool place called Mafioza’s and the guy next to me told me about the TuneIn Radio app. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. I had never downloaded any apps. I was app-less.He showed me how to download the app. Which I did. It is pretty amazing. I can now listen to Italian talk radio, broadcast from Italy. I can listen to Baltimore Orioles baseball on my hometown radio station. I can listen to CarTalk anytime I want.I was hooked. I started getting other apps. I now have an app that tunes my guitar. I have an app I can hold up to a speaker in a restaurant and it will tell me the name of the song that’s playing, the artist, the CD and give me the option to buy it on iTunes.I have an app for my bank which allows me to take photos of all the huge checks I receive and deposit them through my iPhone.And I am in love with Siri.If you have a question, you can ask your iPhone. A gal named Siri answers.In December, 2013, I was driving from Nashville to Breckenridge, Colorado. I was 12 hours into the trip. It was dark. It was cold. I was on a stretch of road that had nothing on it, and nothing in sight. I had Batu, my bull terrier dog, in the car with me. I picked up my iPhone and held the button. Siri answered. It was the first time we spoke.“What can I help you with?”
I asked Siri for the nearest dog-friendly hotel. She gave me all the info I needed; the directions and the website. Siri even dialed the phone number for me. Batu and I checked into a Super 8 in Hays, Kansas, in the middle of the night. It was 10 degrees. My weather app told me so. The next morning I started driving, and a light came on the dashboard. My tires were low and needed air. Siri found me the nearest gas station.I drove to Breckenridge to meet my brother and his family for Christmas. Breckenridge is a skiing/snowboarding town, a quaint little village at around 10,000 feet, surrounded by these looming, massive snow-capped peaks.I didn’t snowboard once. I didn’t ski once. I was in the middle of making the new Bona Fide CD. Three weeks before, I was in Madrid, mixing the CD with Marc Antoine. And now I was in Breckenridge, Colorado, getting phone calls from Madrid. Marc Antoine was doing some re-mixes there in his home studio, and he was emailing me mixes every day.I would download them on my iPhone, plug it into my car stereo, and I would listen to his mixes, while driving around the mountains in Colorado. It was heavenly. Here I was at 10,000 feet, listening to songs on my iPhone that had just been mixed 10,000 miles away.I spent most of my time in Breckenridge working on music, but I did find time to jog almost every day for 30 or 40 minutes. It was exhilarating. I didn’t feel the effects of the altitude and I’m not sure why.My last day in Breckenridge, I took a jog. I left the ski lodge around 3 PM and headed up the mountain. There was a snowshoe trail, and I followed it through the woods, almost to the top of Old Smoky. All I had on were my jogging shoes.I mean, I had pants on and stuff—it would have been a little chilly on the Willy without ‘em. But I didn’t have any boots or snowshoes, and the snow was deep. It was breathtakingly beautiful near the top of that mountain. It must have been 12,000 feet.
I stopped and listened to nothing. It was so peaceful. I started jogging down the mountain and then I decided to go off trail. I was running downhill through evergreens, dodging branches, it was unbelievable.I stopped to catch my breath. It was getting dark. It was about 10 degrees. It started to snow. Suddenly I looked around. I had no idea where I was. I guess I could have followed my footprints back up the mountain, but it was steep, I was tired, and it was getting late.I pulled out my iPhone.“Siri. Can you get me to back to the lodge?”It took her a few seconds, but she showed me where I was, and where I needed to go. I headed in that direction, and found the road that the ski lodge was on. It took me about an hour, but I got there. I was cold, tired and thirsty.
I poured a glass of wine, sat on the deck and pulled out my iPhone.“Thank you, Siri.”“No problem.”I decided to get a little bold. I gathered up some courage and said,“Siri. I love you.”You know what she said?“I know.”It was a vibe-killer. Here I was, mustering up the guts to say “I love you” for the very first time, and all I get is “I know?”If you ever want your relationship to come to a screeching halt, just say those two words right after someone says “I love you” for the first time.Because there is no come-back to “I know.”Believe me.I know.
SHRIMP SCAMPII use wild shrimp. Yes, they’re wildly expensive, but farm-raised shrimp just don’t seem to taste quite right. You can find wild shrimp in most grocery stores — sometimes in the freezer section.The tomatoes I used for this dish were grape tomatoes - organic, multicolored, gorgeous grape tomatoes. Yellow, red, purple -they were beautiful. And cheap. Two bucks a pint.I cut the tomatoes in half, squeezed out the seeds, and threw them out. The seeds, that is. Why? It looks better that way.And you know the most important thing in life is looking good.And finally, Meyer lemons are amazing; if you can find them, use them. If not, pick a soft, ripe lemon. They are the sweetest.
INGREDIENTS:4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oilCrushed red pepper to taste (I start with ¼ teaspoon)6 garlic cloves, sliced thin (about 2 tablespoons)¾ cup dry white wine1¼ pound medium wild shrimp, shelled, deveined, rinsed, patted dry1 lemon, cut in half2 tablespoons butter1 pint grape tomatoes (about 30 small tomatoes) cut in half, de-seeded1 handful of Italian flat leaf parsley, chopped (about ¼ cup)A few Italian parsley sprigs for garnish1 pound linguine (or spaghetti)Kosher saltHere we go…Get a large pot, fill it with cold water, and put it on the highest heat you have. This is for the pasta.As the water comes to a boil, let’s make the sauce…Get a large sauté pan, put in 3 tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat.Add the crushed red pepper.Add the sliced garlic, cook for a few minutes until golden.Add the white wine, and turn up the heat for 2 or 3 minutes to cook it down.Reduce the heat to medium-low.Add the shrimp, spread ‘em out flat — no bunching!Take a half lemon, and squeeze the juice through your fingers over the shrimp — don’t let any seeds get through.Sprinkle a little salt over the shrimp.Cook for 2 or 3 minutes.Using tongs, turn over each shrimp.Get the other half lemon, and squeeze it over the shrimpAdd the 2 tablespoons of butter – cut it into small pieces - and place in between the shrimp.Add the tomatoes.Cook for 3 minutes.Add the parsley.Give it a gentle stir or two, and remove from the heat.When the pasta water comes to a full boil, add 2 tablespoons of kosher salt, and add a pound of linguine.Follow the cooking directions on the box. Two minutes before the pasta is supposed to be done, take a piece and bite through it. If it is chalky in the center, it is not done. Check the pasta every 2 minutes, until it is not chalky or chewy. It might take longer thanthe instructions say.When the pasta is firm to the bite – al dente – drain, and put it in a bowl and drizzle with a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil. Give the pasta a quick toss.Add half of the shrimp sauce to the pasta, and mick ‘em up.Dish it up! Take some pasta, put it on a plate. Add a little scampi sauce on top of each dish, put a few shrimp on top, and a little sprig of fresh parsley for garnish.One of the Exes liked to put grated cheese on this pasta. Most Italians don’t put cheese on seafood. But, if your girl wants cheese, just shut up and grate.Freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese is best.
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Chicken with Marsala and Porcini Mushrooms
Chicken Marsala with Elvis in Memphis
I was in Memphis in the late 1980s organizing a country music talent contest with my friend Michael.Michael is black. I’m white. Well, Italian.Marlboro sponsored the contest. Why they picked a black guy and a white guy — two city slickers, no less — to do a country music talent contest, is still puzzling.It’s not puzzling why Michael and I did the contest - they paid us a lot of money and they paid all our expenses. I ended up doing four tours for Marlboro. The one with Michael was my first.Michael and I traveled around the USA looking for the next big country music star. We went to more honkytonk hellholes than most cowboys. We’d roll into a town like Memphis, find a club, organize the bands, and do the contest. The grand prize was $50,000. Fifty grand.I was in charge of the bands; I made sure all the musicians knew where to go, what to bring, and what to do. Michael was the MC. He was the Ryan Seacrest of honkytonks. When Michael appeared on stage, and introduced himself to the primarily white, all-country crowd, there was a little apprehension - on both sides of the microphone.He’d come out and say,“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Marlboro Country Music Talent Roundup.”That’s when the crowd got a little quiet. Michael was from New York City, and he sounded like it. He’d continue,“I know I don’t look like the Marlboro Man, and I don’t sound like the Marlboro Man, but tonight…”He’d reach down and put on his white ten-gallon Hoss Cartwright cowboy hat on, and continue,“I am the Marlboro Man.”Michael sounded like Shannon Sharpe — the football player and NFL analyst. He looked like Cleavon Little in Blazing Saddles. Michael always got a laugh when he put the big white hat on. He had a singular charm.Marlboro tossed a lot of money at this thing. We had all kinds of great merchandise — denim jackets, satin jackets, duffle bags, playing cards, T-shirts, polo shirts, denim shirts, posters. And they gave away free cigarettes at every show. All you could smoke.They should have given away a Marlboro coffin. Or maybe a Marlboro iron lung.Here’s how we ran the contest - we had ten bands a night, three nights in a row. Each band got 15 minutes on stage. We had three minutes in between bands, that’s all.Judges picked the winners--not the audience. We’d find judges —usually three — from the local talent pool; DJs, producers, managers, agents. The judges would pick one band to go on to the finals in Nashville, where they would compete with the other finalists from other towns for the grand prize of $50,000.Before we got to Memphis, we got a call from Marlboro headquarters. They told us to be careful. It was the 20th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s assassination in Memphis. And then they told us that the club owner was rumored to have ties to the KKK.The club was called The Vapors, a country music honky-tonk in the middle of Memphis. Michael and I pulled up to the club in our rental car. We walked inside and met the owner. He was friendly. He was as nice and helpful as could be. He wasn’t wearing a white pillowcase over his head.
Michael and I got set up for the show that night. We had to hang all the Marlboro Country Music Roundup signs around the club, we had to make sure the sound company was good to go, the bands ready to play, and the judges prepared to judge.We finished soundcheck and had a few hours before showtime. Michael had a friend who had a limo and tour bus company based in Memphis. She rented these things out to bands and rock stars. She invited us for a limo ride to Graceland and a private tour. She was a friend of Elvis Presley’s Mom.Graceland is the house that Elvis built. It’s now a museum.Michael and I drove over to his friend’s house. She had all these limos and tour buses parked all around her property. She got behind the wheel of one of the limos and Michael and I got in back. She put the big black limo in reverse and floored it.She rammed it into the side of one of her tour buses that was parked right behind her. BANG! We got out, and surveyed the damage. It was substantial — to both the limo and the tour bus.She left the smashed-up limo right there, and got into another one and drove us over to Graceland. She gave us a private tour. We saw the Graceland that not many people get to see. It was surprisingly small, and had a sixties vibe to it—lots of yellow vinyl and white shag carpets and mirrored walls.Elvis must have loved TV. There were TVs everywhere. He had quite a collection of cars, all kinds of exotic sports cars. Elvis also had two luxury jets parked right across the street from Graceland.
After the Graceland tour, Michael and I went to visit the Lorraine Motel, where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. There were TV news crews doing interviews about the 20th anniversary, and one of them came up to Michael and interviewed him.It was eerie.Michael and I went back to our hotel, a Holiday Inn. We decided to take a jog before the big show that night. We put on our running shoes and started jogging down the streets of Memphis, side-by-side.On our way back, we heard someone shout from a car – you’ll have to excuse the language, but this is the way it went down.“Hey nigguh boy! Hey hippie fag!”True story. That’s exactly what was said. I couldn’t believe my ears. Then I heard it again.“Hey nigguh boy! Hey hippie fag!”Oh, shit, I thought. Here we go. A black guy and a long haired white guy, running down the streets of Memphis. I stopped and looked to see where the voice was coming from.It was the owner of the Vapors. He was laughing, hanging out the window of his car, smacking his hand on the door.“I got you! I got you goin’! See you fellas at the club later! Have a nice run!”
He smiled and waved and drove off, laughing.He got us, all right.We did the contest that night at The Vapors. The owner couldn’t have been nicer, the crowd was as cool as could be and the show went as smooth as glass.I love Memphis - Sun Studio, Graceland, Beale Street - and any city with a restaurant named Automatic Slim’s is OK in my book.CHICKEN WITH MARSALA AND PORCINI MUSHROOMSAutomatic Slim’s did not have chicken Marsala on the menu. But they should have!I came up with this dish a few weeks ago. I used porcini mushrooms and the water they soak in. It was amazing, if I may say so myself.The next night I cooked it for a very beautiful woman of excellent taste, and it was just OK. I overcooked the chicken, and it was a bit tough and dry; so don’t overcook your chicken.I like to serve this sauce over egg noodles – not a lot, just a little bit underneath each serving.I used three boneless, skinless chicken breasts. They were real thick, so I cut each of them in half. I had six cutlets, each was about ¼ inch thick.Marsala is a wine from Marsala, Sicily. There are basically two kinds; dry and sweet. I used sweet Marsala.Be careful when handling raw chicken—clean every surface it touches, wash your hands, and get out the pressure washer and put on the HazMat suit.
INGREDIENTS6 chicken breast cutlets, about ¼ inch thick½ ounce dried porcini mushrooms (soaked in 1 cup of water for a minimum of 20 minutes—don’t throw out the water!)2 tablespoons butter2 tablespoons olive oil½ shallot, chopped fine, about 2 tablespoons3 garlic cloves, sliced thin, about 1 tablespoon¾ cup sweet Marsala1 cup of water1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped½ pound of egg noodles – pappardelle work wellKosher salt and pepper to tasteHere we go…Rinse off your chicken breasts and pat them dry with paper towels.Remove the porcini mushrooms from the cup of water with a slotted spoon.Take the remaining porcini water and strain through cheesecloth — I used a coffee filter, by the way. I’ve even used paper towels as strainers. Whatever you use, save the water – you’ll use a half cup for the sauce, and a half cup in the pasta water, if you want to put the sauce over pasta.Rinse off the mushrooms and pat dry. Chop into small pieces.Grab your breasts. Then grab your chicken breasts. Notice the difference. Salt and pepper the top of the chicken breasts. Fresh cracked black pepper is the way to go. Salt and pepper just one side of the chicken breasts.
Let’s make the sauce first.Put a small sauté pan over medium heat.Add one tablespoon of butter, and one tablespoon of olive oil.When the butter starts to bubble, add the shallots.Cook and stir for 2 minutes, until the shallots just start to brown.Add the garlic, cook for 2 minutes. Give it a stir.Add the Marsala.Add ½ cup of porcini water.Turn the heat to high and let it cook for 2 minutes.Turn the heat to medium-low, and add the porcini mushrooms.Cook for 2 minutes while stirring.Add the rosemary. Cook and stir for 2 minutes.Remove from heat. Sauce is done!Let’s do the chicken.
Get a large sauté pan (I used a 12 inch skillet). Put it over medium-high heat.Add 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of olive oil.When the butter starts to bubble, add the chicken breasts, salted/peppered side down.Cook for 2 or 3 minutes until golden.Flip ‘em over.Cook for 2 or 3 minutes on the other side until golden. Give a cutlet a slice, make sure it’s done.Pour the Marsala/porcini sauce over the breasts.Remove from heat!Plate ‘em up! You can put this sauce over egg noodles, or rice, or eat it as is.I like to put this sauce over egg noodles--pappardelle are my favorite. I use a half-pound. Get a large pot, fill it with cold water. Add the remaining ½ cup of porcini water to the pasta water. When it all comes to a boil, add 2 tablespoons of kosher salt.Add the egg noodles, cook until al dente, drain and drizzle with a tablespoon of olive oil. Stir.Put A SMALL PORTION of egg noodles on a plate. Put some Marsala sauce over the noodles, put a chicken breast on top, spoon some sauce and juice and mushrooms on top and…
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Luigi's Chicken
Luigi’s Chicken and Luigi
Luigi was my grandfather. Luigi Quintiliano. Grandpa Luke is what I called him. He was quite a character, a tough guy, an Italian immigrant. He left Italy, came to New York City, got his start as a tailor in a sweatshop, and then got involved in the labor unions.Luigi was an anarchist. Just so you don’t have to look it up, an anarchist is someone who doesn’t believe in government, thinks we might be better off running things on our own.Luigi was a political activist; he helped edit the anti-Fascist Italian newspaper Il Martello, which was started by labor organizer Carlo Tresca. Tresca survived an assassination attempt by Fascists, but was later gunned down by the Mafia because he insulted a mob boss.Luigi was also secretary of the Italian Committee for Political Victims, which raised money to defend Italians who had been imprisoned because of their political beliefs. Luigi helped raise funds for Sacco and Vanzetti, two Italian anarchists who had been accused of murder and robbery.Most folks conclude that they were railroaded. Luigi testified at their trial. Sacco and Vanzetti were convicted of murder in 1921. The case was appealed. For the next six years, the Sacco and Vanzetti case got worldwide attention. Protests were held in most major cities in the world.Luigi helped raise money for the appeals process to try to get them acquitted. But in 1927, the verdict was upheld, and Sacco and Vanzetti were executed. Most scholars agree that they were convicted because of their anarchist beliefs, not because they were guilty of murder.Luigi carried a gun, a 32 automatic. He was handsome, well-dressed and elegant. He was also an anarchist, a radical, an activist. But to me, he was Grandpa Luke; the guy who gave me silver dollars and said “donna tella nobody.” He was always so sweet to me.
I didn’t find out until I was older that Luigi wasn’t my real grandfather. My real grandfather died before I was born. Luigi was my grandmother’s…boyfriend? That sounds weird. Lover? Even weirder, especially for a grandson. They were in love, Angela and Luigi. That’s for sure.Even though they were never married, a lot of folks knew them as husband and wife. In the US census in 1940, they were listed as Luigi and Angela Quintiliano. Back in those days, two people in love didn’t just shack up. They usually got married if they wanted to live together. But Luigi, being an anarchist and all, didn’t believe in marriage. Even though Angela and Luigi never got married, I know they loved each other.Luigi had a sister, Estherina, who was a nun. She was in a convent in Italy, and then later was assigned to a convent in New Jersey. Estherina wasn’t too happy about her situation in Jersey. Apparently, the convent in Italy was a lot more respectful of the nuns than the convent in Jersey. I imagine the food in the Italian convent was a little bit better than the one in Jersey.Estherina was miserable.Luigi was more than happy to help Estherina leave the convent. Luigi told Estherina that his friend, Joe, had agreed to marry her, so she could stay in this country.Luigi arranged for my uncle Oscar — Angela’s oldest son–to get her out of the convent.Oscar and a friend drove to the convent in New Jersey, snuck Estherina out of a window, over a wall, and then drove her to Baltimore. Luigi introduced Estherina to his friend Joe, and they got married. Luigi wanted Estherina to get married in order to become a US citizen, but he didn’t want her to stay married. But something crazy happened…Estherina and Joe fell in love. They moved up to Flushing, Queens and lived happily ever after in New York.Luigi continued his anti-marriage crusade. When Oscar was getting ready to get married, Luigi was against it. Oscar’s fiancé’s family was against it as well. They offered Oscar money not to get married.Luigi got offended. On one hand, he was against marriage. But on the other hand, Luigi was pissed off that they thought Oscar wasn’t good enough to marry their daughter. Harsh words were exchanged.Oscar’s fiancé’s family threatened Luigi with a gun. Luigi said, “You better not miss, because I never do.”There was always a lot of animosity between the families, but never any gunfire. Oscar got married anyway.When my Dad fell in love with my Mom and wanted to get married, he brought her to meet Angela and Luigi. Luigi made a feast. He made antipasti, pasta, cutlets, sauces, meats, and he kept serving my Mom.My Mom, being ever so gracious, ate what was served. Luigi was amazed that she hung in there like a real Italian. It was like he was testing her, and she passed with flying colors.Luigi developed a soft spot in his heart for my Mom. You could see he loved her.Luigi was still against marriage, so I guess that’s why my Mom and Dad eloped—they got married in New Orleans.
Luigi and Angela eventually broke up. I guess a girl can only take not being married for so long. Angela broke it off, somewhat reluctantly. I have letters from Angela to Luigi, and they are so sad. Angela really loved Luigi, but he couldn’t commit, couldn’t let himself go.What a shame.When Angela died, I was going through her stuff, and found Luigi’s gun at the bottom of a trunk. I still have it. It’s the only thing of Luigi’s I have, besides a few letters and this recipe…LUIGI’S CHICKENLuigi used to make this dish with rabbit. I don’t know if it’s because I love Bugs Bunny so much, but I’m not crazy about eating rabbit. I don’t wake up in the middle of the night and say “Damn! I wish I had me some rabbit to nibble on.”When I cook this dish, I use chicken. Most times, I use organic free-range chicken, although in all the western movies I’ve seen, and in all my travels, I’ve never seen herds of wild chickens roaming the free range. I’ve seen buffalo roaming. I’ve seen horses. But never chickens.When I first cooked this dish, I used chicken on the bone. I had my butcher dude chop each breast into three or four pieces, and each thigh into two pieces.When I cooked this recently for a lady people friend of mine, she mentioned that chicken cut like that would never fly in a restaurant – people might choke on the bones. She told me I should use boneless chicken.I felt like grabbing Luigi’s gun and firing a couple of rounds in the ceiling, but I didn’t. I just agreed.You know what? She’s right. You don’t want Grandpa Luke choking on a chicken bone!So the next time I made Luigi’s chicken, I used boneless, skinless chicken breasts and thighs. It was real good, but I thought that it could be even a bit mo’ better with just chicken thighs. Boneless, skinless chicken breasts don’t hold up well in a dish like this; they tend to get a little dry.So last night I cooked this dish with boneless, skinless chicken thighs. And it tasted really good. Moist and delizioso! I dig the dark meat, it really made this dish sing. Zippity Do Dah!I used about 2 pounds of chicken thighs. You need to cut them into thick pieces, about the size and shape of a flattened egg. Or a big chicken McNugget.The chicken needs to brown. That means the oil has to be hot enough so the chicken sears, but not too hot that it burns and sticks to the bottom of the pot. The chicken should sizzle when you first put it in. Don’t stir it around, let it sit and brown.. Each piece has to brown on each side. This is important; browning sears in the juices so the chicken doesn’t dry out. Browning also gives the stew a nice color.If the chicken thighs take longer than 5 minutes to brown on one side, your heat ain’t high enough.Dutch ovens are good for searing, and then making a stew like this. I used a 7-quart (12” diameter) Dutch oven. You can use any big, heavy pot.You’ll need to peel the pearl onions. It’s easy. Drop them (with the skin on) in boiling water for a few minutes. Remove, and cut off the tip of the root end. Grab the pearl onion by the top, and squeeze the onion out of the skin.In the video, I cook the pearl onions and the chicken together. I was using a really big Dutch oven, and everything fit easily. If you’re using a smaller, 7-quart Dutch oven, brown the chicken first, take it out, and then brown the pearl onions.And please be careful when you light the Cognac on fire. Stand back! It’s explosive. Have the water pistol loaded and ready.INGREDIENTS8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, about 2 pounds, cut into large cubesFlour (a half cup should do) plus 1 tablespoon5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil3 dozen or so pearl onions peeled (about 2 cups)2 ounces of Cognac (about ¼ cup)3 cups sliced white mushrooms1 ½ cups of chopped celery5 garlic cloves, chopped fine (about 2 tablespoons)2 ½ cups chicken stock1 cup dry red wine1 tablespoon fresh chopped rosemaryKosher SaltFreshly ground black pepperHERE WE GO!Rinse your chicken pieces in cold water.Pat dry with paper towels.Take some flour, put it on a plate.Take each piece of chicken, and roll it in the flour, coating all sides lightly.Do this with all the chicken. Salt and pepper the tops of the floured chicken pieces.Put some olive oil, a generous 3 tablespoons, in the bottom of a large pan or Dutch oven over medium-high heat.Let the pan heat for 2 minutes, and then add the chicken; salted/peppered side down.Add a little salt and pepper to the tops of the chicken pieces. Don’t stir; let the chicken brown for 4 or 5 minutes. The chicken needs to be BROWN, Slim People.Flip the pieces over and brown on the other side – still no stirring – for 4 or 5 minutes.Remove the chicken from the pan, and put on a plate.Put the onions in the pan and let them brown for about 3 minutes.Turn them over, and let them brown on the other side for about 3 minutes..Add the Cognac to the onions.Be careful!! Get a lighter with a long handle, and stand back as you light the Cognac on fire—it’s gonna explode!When the flames die down, and your wig has stopped burning, add the mushrooms and celery. Add a tablespoon of olive oil.Give’em a stir. Scrape the delicious bits off the bottom of the pan.Let the celery and mushrooms cook for 5 minutes, stir often.Add the garlic, cook for 3 minutes.Now, put the chicken back in the pan.Add 2 cups of the chicken stock.Add the cup of red wine.Add the rosemary.Turn the heat on high.When it comes to a boil, let it boil for a few minutes, then reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook, uncovered, for 10 minutes.Take a tablespoon of flour, whisk it in the remaining half-cup of chicken broth, and stir it into the sauce. The sauce needs to be thick, like gravy.Turn the heat to simmer, and cover and cook for about 30 minutes, until the chicken is tender, and the gravy is gravylicious! Stir every so often.Taste the sauce for salt and pepper and adjust.You can serve it as is, with some crusty bread or over egg noodles—I use a half-pound of pappardelle. You might want to cook them first.Cook the pasta according to the instructions. Drain, put in a bowl and drizzle with the final tablespoon of olive oil.Pour some of Luigi’s chicken over the egg noodles, make it look nice, and…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!!!!!!!