Posted on August 18th, 2016 No comments
Kaine embraces the Butter Cow
On a campaign tour, Kaine threw himself fully into the Iowa State Fair experience.
DES MOINES, Iowa—Not even a veteran politician like Tim Kaine can resist the pull of the Butter Cow.
On a campaign jaunt through the Hawkeye State Wednesday, Kaine made an impromptu stop at the Iowa State Fair, taking in the sights, smells (good and bad) and tastes that the annual agriculture exhibition has to offer.
Joined briefly by Iowa Democratic Senate candidate Patty Judge and then Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack, Kaine’s first stop was a sacrosanct trek to pay homage to the famous cow, a 600-pound life-size bovine frame of metal and mesh that’s slathered in layers of butter.
The Democratic vice presidential nominee also stopped to pose in front of a butter mold of the Starship Enterprise, offering up one of his classic cheesy dad jokes: “This campaign has been a journey,” he said, riffing on the Star Trek opening monologue as he shook hands and took pictures with the fair’s visitors.
Kaine made a stop by the Iowa pork tent — at one point hoisting his pork chop on a stick high into the air — and talked briefly to reporters. But he again dodged a question about the impact of the major shakeup in Trump’s campaign staff.
AND THEN THERE WAS:
Tim Kaine’s Southern night: Barbecue, beer and bluegrass on the harmonica
ASHEVILLE, N.C. — Democratic vice presidential nominee Tim Kaine went all in during his North Carolina visit Monday night, busting out his harmonica for an impromptu jam session with a local bluegrass band.
Kaine played two well-known bluegrass songs — “Wagon Wheel” and “My Home’s Across the Blue Ridge Mountains” — as the crowd cheered him on at Catawba Brewery, even singing and dancing at times, while his wife, Anne Holton, clogged to the side of the stage.
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The impromptu concert capped off a night of Southern fun for Kaine and his wife that included a barbecue dinner with beers and banana pudding at Buxton Hall Barbecue.
Kaine also ordered a post-harmonica beer, picking White Zombie, a local wheat beer, and giving a $5 tip, according to the bartender.
I THINK THIS IS MY KIND OF GUY!
Read more: http://www.politico.com/story/2016/08/tim-kaine-harmonica-asheville-bluegrass-227042#ixzz4Hh24q1d5
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Read more: http://www.politico.com/story/2016/08/tim-kaine-iowa-state-fair-butter-cow-227133#ixzz4Hh1KzRsy
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Posted on August 16th, 2016 No comments
Usain Bolt is not only the fastest man alive but an amazing human being. In the Olympics traditionally personal excellence was the only criterion for received gold or a laurel crown.
When Paavo Nurmi, the greatest distance runner of his age won many events at the Olympics during the 1920s, he was asked whether he ran for the glory of Finland. “No” he replied “I ran for Nurmi.”
What the ancient Greeks would have thought of synchronized swimming or professional basketball players can only be imagined but if they saw the great Usain Bolt they would have understood and appreciated his excellence. Unfortunately the actual video which I had posted has been withdrawn by the Olympic Committee. I’ll keep looking for an actual race video. In the meantime the below will have to do.
Posted on August 16th, 2016 No comments
One of our readers sent the below group of pictures of postcards from the Ford Motor Company. I think there was a time when 350,000 workers built cars in and around Detroit. That number today is less than half but Ford is still there and doing fine.Copy and paste link below to see all photos.
I buy stuff at Costco and while the nearest one is in Danbury about 20 miles away it is usually worth the trip. The below will not be one of my purchases. Let someone else buy it when I get that gentle little tap on the shoulder. I like the part about expedited shipping and of course, the Store Return Policy Is Generous (Except on Caskets)!
“You Can Get a Good Deal on a Casket.
Caskets are often the single most expensive item purchased for a traditional funeral service, according to the Federal Trade Commission. The average cost of a casket bought through a funeral home is more than $2,000, but depending on the finish the price can climb as high as $10,000. Costco offers a cheaper alternative.
Costco members in the process of planning a funeral can purchase a casket online through the warehouse club’s website. Provided by Universal Casket Company, caskets at Costco range in price from $950 to $1,900. Those interested in buying one must first call the casket provider at the number listed on Costco.com to confirm product, pricing and shipping/delivery details before the order will be processed.
Standard shipping is included in the cost of the casket, but expedited shipping is available for an additional fee. Both the shipping address and the billing address must be in one of the 36 states (plus the District of Columbia) approved for casket sales.”
Scooter the cat who is small but very affectionate and smart usually goes out each night and is there at the door each morning to come in eat and rest up.
Last Thursday he didnt appear at the door, and hasnt been seen since. The neighbors have a cat Lily who used to be over here at the farm but adopted them some time ago. The great Blackstone is still happily living down at Rosie Andrews farm where I visited him last week. He is the one on the left below. The one on the right is Scooter the evening he disappeared.
We are hopeful that Scooter has wandered and will show up but in this area there are a lot of coyotes, bobcats and other critters that would do Scooter great harm.
Scooter is not related to Scooter Libby, if any of my readers remembers him.
Now here is a song made famous by Lee Moore, the Coffee Drinking Nighthawk on WWVA in Wheeling WV. The Cat Came back, hopefully true in Scooter’s case.
It has been reported that Mayor Laura Hurley accidentally made personal payment(s) from the town municipal account during a time of extreme family stress, when she was taking different medications. She wasn’t thinking clearly, but when officials noticed the issue and pointed it out to her, she immediately agreed with them.
Stay tuned and while the investigation continues Mayor Hurley stays in office
There was a great Obituary in the New York Times today about a man who was able to get the permit for the Woodstock Festival. It, as most know, was not in Woodstock but in the little town of Bethel in the Catskills across the River.
As luck would have it, Mr. Tiber, in his capacity as president of the Bethel Chamber of Commerce — an absurd post, he later said, “because there was no commerce” — held an official permit, written by himself to himself, to hold a music and arts festival. This was the golden key that unlocked the door that opened onto one of the defining events of the era.
Joe Biden spiked searches of the word “malarkey” on Wednesday night, according to trends monitored by Merriam-Webster.
During his speech to the Democratic National Convention, the Vice President roasted Donald Trump’s reach of the middle class, saying the candidate’s coining of the phrase “you’re fired” said a lot about him.
“Think about that. Think about everything you learned as a child, no matter where you were raised. How can there be pleasure in saying, ‘You’re fired?’ He’s trying to tell us he cares about the middle class?” he said. “Give me a break that’s a bunch of malarkey!”
Well I’m guilty as charged. I loved the word, knew exactly what it meant but wanted to see what the dictionary said about it. First it said “nonsense.” But then I found a great explanation even if incorrect from a cartoonist in the 1920s
“We can likely thank a cartoonist of Irish descent, Thomas Aloysius Dorgan (‘TAD’ for short), for popularizing the word. You might recall Dorgan’s name from previous discussions of hot dog … [he] helped to circulate some other words in the American lexicon, among them malarkey, hard-boiled, and kibitzer.
“When Dorgan began using the word, its spelling wasn’t settled. In a cartoon of his that appeared on Mar. 9, 1922, the word Milarkey was used as a fictitious place name. Two years later, on April 2, 1924, he used the word Malachy, apparently with its nonsense meaning (‘Malachy — You said it — I wouldn’t trust a lawyer no further than I could throw a case of Scotch’).”
The Democratic Convention winds up tonight in Philadelphia. When #2 son was in school down in Philly I used to go there regularly. We would always stop at Pat’s Philly Cheesesteaks for the very best of its kind. I know Geno’s is across the street but it doesn’t compare. There has never been a good Philly cheesesteak available anywhere else outside of South Philadelphia.
There are those who say that John Kerry lost the election in 2004 when he went to Pat’s and asked for Gruyere cheese on his steak. At Pat’s there were no questions to ask. If you don’t know how to order e.g. “one with” you are immediately passed over to the next customer. The only cheese ever used came from a big heated vat of Cheese Whiz and it was slathered on the cheesesteak with a paint brush or sometimes a wooden paddle.
I finally found the right video below to teach you the basic rudiments of the one and only, Pat’s Philly Cheesesteaks
The below story is from an article which talks of lost restaurants in NYC. Enrico and Paglieri’s was one of my father’s favorites. It was a nice walk from the apartment we lived in at that time and my father who was a widower took his friends there often. I cant think of a restaurant like it that is family owned and still going strong. I might have even written about this before but the below story is worth the time to read.
“On a February evening 40 years ago, the possessions of a deceased 94-year-old restaurant owner lay strewn about a sidewalk on 11th Street, between Fifth and Sixth avenues, in front of a group of row houses that now serve as a student center for The New School.
Though she left behind friends and surviving family, Josephine Paglieri’s furniture, clothing, books, photographs and letters waited for a city sanitation truck to haul them away. The New York Times described the scene in a Feb. 7, 1976, article.
Presently, a young hippie came by, grabbed one of her battered suitcases and began to stuff her old books into it. He hastily selected the few leather-bound ones…
Somebody else rummaged through Mrs. Paglieri’s worn dresses. “These are great for old clothes,” she said. Other people peered inside the drawers of Mrs. Paglieri’s plain wooden bureau.
That night a large sanitation truck rumbled up the street to pick up the goods. An old olive-green velvet couch crumbled under the tongs of the truck’s crusher.
The desk fell apart when the sanitationmen tried to pick it up. A lifetime of personal papers, letters, souvenirs and stationery swirled all over the sidewalk outside the restaurant that Mrs. Paglieri used to own.
The sanitationmen shoveled and swept, and threw them inside the truck. But one photograph remained on the street behind the vehicle. It was a picture of Mrs. Paglieri as a young girl, with her family.
The driver of the sanitation truck picked it up. He glanced at it while the desk was splintering under the weight of the garbage machine, and then tossed it inside with the other garbage. He hopped into the cab and roared off, leaving behind a few papers fluttering in the wind.
An old black-and-white postcard that I picked up at the Antiques Garage West 25th Street Market led me to this heartbreaking story.
I have been collecting postcards of Old New York at an accelerated pace lately. Each postcard tells a story, usually a handwritten one on the back about a meal, a journey or a vacation. But each postcard of a long-shuttered New York City restaurant also leads me on a journey through newspaper archives and old books, seeking to recount the story of each of these restaurants, the meals they served and happy memories they provided.
My most recent purchase, the one that led me to the story about the possessions and memories of Mrs. Paglieri, included a postcard of Enrico & Paglieri, established in 1908 at 64 West 11th Street in Manhattan. The black-and-white undated postcard depicts the main dining room, with exposed brick walls, bright skylights, white tablecloths and napkins, and a giant palm tree in the middle of the dining room.
The Times described the main dining room, built at the back of three brownstone houses, as having an “out-of-doors atmosphere.” It looks and sounds as if it were a unique, gorgeous space.
The back of the postcard contains no handwriting, just information about the restaurant, including its branding as “The most popular Italian restaurant in New York City.” The restaurant was owned by Enrico Fasani and his brother in law, Paulo Paglieri.
The 1939 Dining in New York with Rector begins its entry on Enrico & Paglieri with a story about Fasani sitting in the orchestra section of a theater, watching an actor on stage struggling to eat spaghetti.
Enrico, in his orchestra seat, found it difficult to restrain the impulse to climb up on the stage and give him a lesson then and there. The event had its fruit, however, for Enrico spoke of it to his friends in theatrical circles and offered to teach the trick of it to any who might be faced with the same problem. The word soon got around, and now, when you see an Irishman consuming spaghetti with all the suavity and gusto of a born and bred Neapolitan, set it down to Enrico’s teaching and you won’t be far from right.
Rector goes on to describe a dish that he enjoys more than spaghetti, a dish “that is found like a weed in every restaurant with pretensions to an Italian accent. That is risotto. In other words, rice.”
It is cooked in butter and served with large quantities of all ingredients, and you will be amazed at the way you consume it, even without lessons. A good companion dish with contrasting flavor is a salad of mixed greens; the two dishes make a satisfying meal. A bottle of chianti is another good idea.
Enrico and Paglieri’s is off lower Fifth Avenue, on a street that retains the flavor of old New York. On the left, as you enter the restaurant is the Clover Leaf Bar, an attractive room, but the place to go is the main dining room in the rear, one of the most spacious dining rooms in New York and splendid for your purposes if you happen to be an international spy or in love. Some of the tables are so remote from all others that no one could possibly overhear your conversation except the waiter.
I love that, even in 1939, New Yorkers like Rector showed a nostalgia for the “flavor of Old New York.”
A June 24, 1946 “News of Food” article gives a good six-paragraph description of Enrico & Paglieri, which it calls “one of the best restaurants in the city specializing in Italian food.”
Back in the days when Enrico and his partner, Paul Paglieri, who died many years ago, started their venture, the menu seldom varied from minestrone, lobster diavolo and chicken. That was a concession to the customers of the time, who clamored for those dishes, Enrico explains, and who, incidentally, paid only 55 cents for a complete meal, including a bottle of wine. Though today’s patrons have more cosmopolitan tastes and the restaurant’s menu is accordingly broader, chicken is still a predominant dish, especially chicken risotto, which, of course, is stewed and served with rice cooked with parmesan cheese.
Roast chicken plays a large part, too. In fact, Enrico will point out his electric rotisserie, encased in stained glass and situated in the bar, which turns out twenty-four birds every twenty minutes. Ossi buchi, which, if you’re up on Italian dishes, you’ll recognize as veal knuckle, is another commendable specialty of the house, as is veal cutlet parmigiana.
The restaurant was purchased by the Longchamps chain of upscale restaurants sometime before the late 1960s. Longchamps then proceeded to open other restaurants with the name Enrico & Paglieri, including one at 7th Avenue and 51st Street.
Longchamps closed the original Enrico & Paglieri in the early 1970s, before the entire chain filed for bankruptcy. Christy’s Skylight Gardens moved into the space around 1975.
The closing of any restaurant is sad, as most restaurants tend to be the sources of happy memories of good meals and family celebrations. But this story took an especially sad turn when Mrs. Paglieri passed away in November 1975 at the age of 94, in her apartment above the restaurant that she and her family had run for decades. Though she was survived by three grandchildren and three great grandchildren, her friends cleared out her apartment the following February and discarded her possessions, as the Times reporter noted.
I was recently chatting with a Staten Island-based antique dealer who runs estate sales. He said he often finds that family members feel bad selling collections that their loved ones treasured. He said he reminds them that those collections will soon have a new life, with someone else who will enjoy and appreciate them. It makes me wonder why Mrs. Paglieri’s friends and family weren’t able to find a home for her treasures.
We’ll never know. But her house still stands, and I’ll think of Mrs. Paglieri any time I pass it, and every time I look at the Enrico & Paglieri postcard on my desk.”