Monday, October 4, 2010

The Vague Issue

Fork Fest Review
The Vague Issue

December 2003

Drink (g&t) in hand . . . I dive in, trying to concentrate on important details of this issue, as Carole tinkers in the kitchen, listening to NPR, which distracts me to no end. She’s making her famous and tasty eggplant and turkey surprise.
       Another pecan, another sip o’ the g&t and . . . oh yes, the vague issue — you might be asking just what is the vague issue and I’d have to be vague and say I really don’t know, not much I guess. Or more to the point — it’s about a lot of things but nothing in too much detail as these events have all come and gone and they barely exist or have any further meaning to any of us — but dammit, they’ll make some darn good copy for this, the last great issue of the year. Fork Fest Review thrives because of you. Thank you.


Vietnam was an amazing experience for both myself and Carole — even though she didn’t get her ears cleaned, like me —  I’d never been there before so everything was, can I use the word, exotic. Yes, exotic in spite of the incessant screaming of motor scooters, or “motorbikes” as they are called. Exotic, even though the air was a constant grey and certain gutters had a peculiar stench to them. Yes, just one damn exotic place.
       I didn’t find the baguettes to be all that yummy, but did enjoy the coffee — the best of which I found to be right in our neighborhood for about a quarter a cup — a cup being about the size of an espresso shot.
       Our favorite places to eat were the pseudo-French p√Ętisseries, and bistros and other French sounding names and let’s not forget the croissant shop on that street, the name of which I’ve forgotten, but damn yummy croissants. Get ’em while they’re hot.
       We also went to a yummy Italian joint, filled with German tourists. Lots of Germans in Vietnam and not suprisingly, lots of French, all roaming around and probably quietly scheming on how to get back into Vietnam and make it theirs again. I think that they should just quietly open as many croissant shops as possible. Two, three, on every block and then before you know it, there’ll be an army of croissant shops and they’ll smother the Vietnamese in rich, yummy butter and . . . okay, never mind.
       I should say that Carole did hit some “very yummy” local restaurants with her sister, but I had to give all this up in order to teach English at the local school.

Pott-ied Plants

And let’s not forget the yummy Indian joint that Carole’s cousin, Kirsten, took us to. The highlight of this place was watching the locals use the bushes, or lack thereof, across the street.
       Unfortunately most of the really good, home cookin’ restaurants were pretty much, literally, on the streets, and had we had the stomachs for it — we could have had pho with the locals. Sadly, in order to save our delicate biologies we ate in mostly western, or “recommended” eateries. We used forks and spoons and declined the ice. We sat on standard western chairs, rather than squat on the potty stools. We ate in places with lots of white faces (and these are a few of my favorite things) and that’s the big, vague, scoop from Vietnam.
       Some of our best meals though, were right at home, cooked up by the housekeeper. And then to top it all off, after our marathon fourteen hour flight home, what did we go out and have but a really good bowl of pho.

Art News

It’s old news, it’s vague news (which makes it great for this issue), it’s notes from Carole interpreted by yours truly and left to your very own imaginations. Go, go, go! . . . Both Hideo and Carmine “sold heaps” (Carole again, looking over my shoulder, dictating) of stuff at Fort Mason. Carmine had the watercolors and Hideo did very well with his ceramics. There’s your art news.

The Last Supper (at Karl & Karin’s)

Oh, there’s nothing vague about this one. The usual suspects and then some showed up to party till, well, it must have been shortly before midnight. 
       Slammin’ dance tunes provided by master-flash-Bobby-b-da-spin-king, got the floor all sugar’d up and sex-sin each other out and . . . . screeeeeech (imagine the needle dragging heavily across your favorite record!) . . . holy moly so I couldn’t work the cd player to save my life and there I stood — a frail deer in the headlights — in the dark, only to have the excited voices and exclaiming eyes widely asking, “what is this?? what are you doin’????  (Paris Hilton will be here any minute!) and so my DJ days were cut short and the music was left to the samba and jazz set and all was happy on the dance floor.
       Other than the music, the spread and ambiance at the studio were wonderful —as always — and Marla, they were Gay, every last one of ’em.

Aisle 3B

Let’s see . . . Corrinne is and or was in New York for Christmas. Carmine was in Connecticut for family
(my deep throat source is not sure on this one) fun. Bob the DJ was in Arizona riding his mountain bike and taking crotch shots from a four year old. Carole was whuuuupin’ it up with family down in San Jose. Karl and Karin had the extended family thing goin’ on and . . .

Our featured and fantastic recipe of the year is . . . .

Carole’s excellent eggplant and ground turkey!!!!
( I won’t be writing any cookbooks too soon)
Ingredients: some eggplant, some ground turkey, some rice.
Cook some rice. Cut up some eggplant. Probably only one. Toss this into a pan and add the ground turkey. Stir. Check the rice. Stir and then ask Carole what the rest of the ingredients, “Carole’s six herbs and spices” are.

. . . the details aren’t in yet — yep, things are a little vague, but the next big dinner bash will be at Miss Jeung’s around the 24th of January. So there. Eat on.

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