Reflections on Food in Art #1

This is the first in a series of posts where we'll take a look at food depicted in visual art. By no means is this meant to be an exhaustive list, rather just the personal thoughts of one simple me to the representation of cuisine.

I could think of no better painting with which to begin this study than Picasso's Charnel House of c. 1945. On a table -- drawn in loose line -- sits a warm meal uneaten. On the floor below the table lies the remains of a tortured family, gagged and broken.

Such an image of unrequited sustenance and grotesque death conjures in my mind a scene from the Aeneid. Aeneas and his men have just been shipwrecked and the sailors are trying to strain loose grain that had tumbled from barrels into the water during the chaos of the storm. They will cook these grains on fires lit on the soaked shore. This marks the first time the Trojans had set foot on land since leaving Troy -- a Troy burning in flame. And as they had left the burning city, Aeneas had paused for just a moment in reflection and shock before the Temple of Ceres, goddess of grain. In Vergil's image, we see the forces of life and death subverted and reinstalled.

Likewise in Picasso's meditation of rage on the senseless killing of the Second World War, we see the necessary and the whole and the true perverted. All that remains is the casserole that speaks volumes more about senselessness and suffering than any voice ungagged ever could.

BBQ is better than Politics

Fantastic BBQ yesterday. There was so much flesh on the grill I hardly had room in which to plop my split eggplant.

Great music -- echoey King Tubby records and the sounds of broken speakers emanating over the neighborhood. A great quiet set of Dobro and guitar w/ Susan Alcorn and Melissa Moore. Big spasmatic noisey shakey music in the yard with Dani and Stu and Bonnie and folks while a half dozen kids and a few adults jump and scream on the netted trampoline. BBQ music-thing Baltimore-style.

And then I wake up to the latest news: Ground breaking journalism from the New York Times this morning.

"Some of Mr. McCain’s advisers said they also thought that Mr. Obama had displayed a number of vulnerabilities as a candidate that they would seek to exploit: they argued that he was prone to becoming irritated when tired or pressed on tough questions..."

Meanwhile, on the other side...

"In the eyes of the Obama campaign, Mr. McCain’s chief weaknesses include continuing to embrace the Iraq war, his support for extending the administration’s tax cuts for the wealthiest Americans (he once opposed the idea) and his suggestion that the economy had made “great progress” in the last eight years."

So there you have it, obviously getting grumpy when you are tired is the equivalent of advocating for a failed war policy that has thrown several countries and countless millions of lives into chaos. Grumpy is the new Bellicose.

I'd rather be barbequeing.

Sunny Day! BBQ! Summer Time!

Going to the first BBQ of the season! Summer is here!

Grilled eggplant (w/ olive oil and a dash of Montreal Steak Seasoning), grilled fresh zucchini, and ridiculously overpriced veggie-dogs ($4.19 -- for the love of god...)

A review is up next post. Right now, it's time to party.

Sunny day, sunny day!

Scandal 2008! My Pirogies!

Alright. Regular readers will understand what I'm talking about here.

So, I've been upbraided by residents of the fine city of Pittsburgh. Just goes to show that I can't exactly put full faith in a certain correspondent in the field whose name happens to rhyme with 'Blight'.

Allow me to set the record straight: Pittsburgh did the right thing; I got bad information (ok, so maybe I should have actually like read the paper or something to verify facts rather than just reference a guy from Philly with a diner fetish...). After all that, it was Allegheny County which I should have been boycotting.

All this information distresses me. BECAUSE I LOST AN ENTIRE WEEK OF SWEET PIROGI EATING!

Dwight, how could you! How could you pass on this faulty intelligence and then let it slide as I suffered through a week without cheese filled potato dumplings!

This is going to take time. I need to heal.

There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Muppet

Muppet Show Glory.

Science! (and I'm calling a truce with Pittsburgh).

New Blog Alert!

My friend Carrie has started a new blog. It's called 'The Stay At Home Scientist' and tends to focus on fun stuff like DIY science experiments and environmental projects for kids. She also has a peculiarly strong penchant for invertebrates. How can you not dig that? Here's the link to her page.

In local news, I have formally ended my boycott of pirogies. But don't think I'm not still keeping an eye on you, Pittsburgh. My friend Dani is moving to your town and he's gonna be keeping notes for me. Don't cross him, Iron City. Or you'll be hearing from me again.

Ok. Back to reading about Fairy Shrimp.

It's not Coca-Cola; it's Rice.

As Americans fret about whether to shop at Whole Foods or Wal Mart, much of the world is preparing for a coming disaster.

American consumers will have realized that grocery store prices are skyrocketing. Thirty-percent price increases in staple goods; rations on bulk rice; prices driven through the roof due in part to antiquated systems of distribution and the ubiquitous reliance on gasoline: these are ominous and distressing signals.

Now, if you live in the US and are feeling the pinch, just imagine if you are one of the billion citizens of the Earth living on less than a dollar a day.

The rice market is the big one. A doomed rice market and we'll be looking at mass starvation on an unprecedented scale. Not to mention wheat. The wheat harvest for the year is gauged to be well off the mark. And what is causing this scenario?

Drought in Australia. American farmers forgoing wheat for corn-as-biofuel. Population explosion throughout Asia and Africa. In other words, as the Post calls it: the interconnectedness of our global food distribution system. In our effort to expand markets, we are dooming local economies. And now, we're bringing it all back home.

CNN Breaking News: Whole Foods is Pricey

CNN has once again broken a major story: Whole Foods is expensive.

The article states that the market for 'green' items may have peaked. A combination of high prices and healthy (?) skepticism is turning American consumers away from organic grocers like the aforementioned Whole Foods.

And now, only 45% of consumers think that organic food is "good for them".

I guess Whole Foods forgot to buy ad space on CNN this month.

As all of us who shop organic know by now, Whole Foods is a behemoth evil chain capitalizing on the expendable dollars of hipsters and yuppies (and the poor folks who have no other nearby option for buying organic). Savvy organic buyers have long ago moved on to smaller organic grocers, farmers markets, and the Internet. The idea that because a gallon of milk at Whole Foods runs $7.00, the American consumer won't buy organic milk is like saying that because a Cadillac costs $60K, American consumers won't buy cars.

If folks are concerned about the high price of organic items, then do the responsible thing: buy them. It's a basic law of economics: the more people buy something, the lower the price will go. Local organic grocers have no interest in ripping people off. That's an easy way to go out of business. If organic grocers could sell their products for less, they would. But the demand has to be there.

If consumers would insist on organic goods and refrain from shopping at the local Safeway or Super Fresh or Food Lion or Wal Mart or whatever your local corporate mega-grocer happens to be, then the price would even out.

Don't let the dupes at CNN -- America's greatest source for selective reporting -- tell you otherwise.

Pittsburgh... how could you?!?

Ok. So my friend Dwight set me straight. I should not be taking out my frustration on Philly Cheesesteaks. Philly actually voted Obama.

So he set me straight. I've made mistakes. I'm out of touch. An elitist. My economic distress causes me to cling to toasted white bread and melted cheese.

Instead, I am compelled to take out my frustration on the city of Pittsburgh. Dwight suggested I say something along the lines of "I hope you choke on your delicious Primanti Brothers french fry sandwiches." But I can't bring myself to do it. Somehow it's easier to hurl insults at the City of Brotherly Love than it is to dog Iron City.

Alas, I must do what I must do.

Philly, you are off the hook.

Pittsburgh, I hereby declare myself abstaining from pierogies for one week.

I think I'll be able to forgive you in about a week's time. Then I gonna max out the Visa at pierogiesplus.com

I feel like I have no friends in PA

Dear Pennsylvania,

I hope you choke on yr cheesesteak.

Love,
Shelly

This is Not Rambling (work, badminton, 60,000 bees, plagairized food recipies)

It's been tough to keep up with the blog lately... with the campaign and badminton and all.

Spent the week working out the kinks on a new webpage -- shellyblake.com -- as well as preparing for a ridiculously epic badminton tournament.

Concerning badminton, I suggest the following: before entering a badminton tournament, do yourself a favor and familiarize yourself with the rules of badminton. It also may help to actually practice hitting the shuttlecock with your 'badminton stick' rather than just tossing it up in the air, catching it, and laughing about its being called a shuttlecock.

But this is all part of the process of becoming more wisened and mature.

On the food front, I'm working on an assignment for the paper. I can tell you nothing about it. But what I can tell you is that 60,000 bees is a lot of bees. Really a lot.

Anyhow, this post is just to say that I am continuing on; I have not given up on this thing. In fact, for your patience, I have decided to grant you one of my few recipes. I guess it's sort of a meta-recipe really. Sort of a completely non-irony-laden recipe that has nothing to do with the absolute ludicrousness of certain people in the American presidential campaign. I think of it as 'inspired' by Cindy McCain (or at least some rouge elements of the McCain website team).

I give you:

Shelly's Quik[TM] Fix Fav

1 part vacuousness
3 parts pandering
2 1/2 ounces of Tabasco

Mix in bowl. Put bowl aside. Go to Food Network website. Choose any Officially American looking recipe (No curries! Pierogies are a maybe.) Make that dish.

Call it your own and serve to jewel-encrusted friends and party bosses. Call other people elitist.

Enjoy.

The Market

MJ was surprised by my reaction to the displays of butchered meat. "Haven't you ever walked through Lexington Market?" she asked.

Well of course, but something was different here. Something aesthetic. You see, I was falling for the beauty of the butchery.

I attempt to shirk off the morbidity of that remark now as I type. But to deny the artistry in the display of the splayed ribs, the disembodied tongues, the severed hearts... come now. Never before that Stockholm afternoon -- cold and blustery, full of the chill that drives you into a store for a scarf -- that I really noticed the translucent pink of skinless butchered meat nor the glassy strange stare of the herring. What's more I never had considered the artistry of the display -- this edifice to death arranged as beguiling commercial fancy.

For some reason, being in the commonness of the market gave me paced chance to see out of the corner of my eye the strangeness of celebrated death in its daily and habitual incarnation.

And then we moved out into the city.

Tale of a Potato Eater

Ok. So I said I'd post about the Swedish markets. Sorry. Turns out a bunch of folks wanted more depiction on the all-you-can-eat-potato joint. So here are a few photos MJ shot documenting the "during" / "in-search-of-escalpation" / and "walking away" / "relevation" moments of eating. Go figure. Dig.

Stockholm Stomach!

So, Sweden!

Let's start with Stockholm. A very beautiful and sprawling city / archipelago, Stockholm has the most varied cuisine we found in Sweden. That's not surprising given that it is overwhelmingly the largest city in Scandinavia.

Today: the Smörgåsbord.

This little joint was actually overlooking a big indoor market sort of in the center of town. Up two flights of stairs and there you are in this big pre-WWI throwback drawing room. small tables are scattered about. MJ and I grab a spot, drop our winter survival gear, and head for the buffet.

And about that buffet... let's just say no one will accuse the Swedes of being closeminded when it comes to all the myriad ways to serve potatoes.

Stewed potatoes. Baked potatoes. Potatoes with cheese. French fries. Something that looked like refried hash browns.

Yup. Potatoes. It's what's for dinner.

There were other things on the menu, though not particularly what I had in mind when we went looking for traditional Swedish fare. Had an excellent curry based around carrots and, um, potatoes.

Did pick up an excellent idea however. One I don't mind stealing. Pitchers of ice-water with sliced cucumbers floating about. Nice touch.

Tomorrow I'll take a look at the market and all the ways to display butchered animals.

Eat More Grease

I'm back. Can't post much at present. Too busy unpacking and getting back to eating grease.

On Tour...

On tour in Scandinavia!

Will post all about Swedish cuisine when I get home and back to a computer in a couple weeks. Til then -- enjoy your food and don't eat with your mouth full.

- Shel

Good Milk

I was listening to an interview with Jim Hightower and was happy to find that he and I drink the same milk! Well, at least I drink it when we manage to get down to the organic grocer.

A lot of people complain about the price of organic milk. Yeah, it's frigging expensive. But you are actually putting this stuff in your body. Isn't it weird that we'll buy name-brand CD-Rs because they are more trust-worthy, but we won't think twice about the utters producing the milk we consume.

And I'm as much a part of this as anyone; the idea of regularly spending $5 on a gallon of milk is appalling. Though I don't blink spending that on a six-pack.

Time to re-evaluate the dairy thing. Have managed to go Stonybrook Farms Organic on yogurt, so that's a start -- and only ten cents more a cup. But milk seems like something that shouldn't cost $5 a gallon.

Of course, milk is kind of like voting. You know all those people who go on about voting 'scientifically'? Like folks who say, "I'd vote for Kucinich, but he'd never win; so I'll vote for someone else instead." Of course, we all know, a vote is a vote and whomever receives more gets the nice tableware. But it's sort of like that with milk. Folks say: "Yeah, organic tastes better, but so few people buy it they have to make the price so high. And I just feel like a putz spending $5 on a gallon of milk." What we need to do is get everyone to buy organic milk so the price will have to come down. Let's put the big commercial dairy farms out of business and let them sell their cows to the organic farms. When it really comes down to the brass tacks, it's only a matter of a few extra bucks a month.

Take It!

The operative word is 'cabbage'.

Nice Can

It's amazing just how much food I grew up on that came out of a can.

From tuna fish (which BTW, is one of the few seafoods that we call by type and species) to SPAM, an aluminum shell was where it was at. And vegetables! I remember all of our veggies came from cans -- from those 'French-style' string-beans to the button mushrooms and right down to canned white potatoes. All in cans.

Thinking back on it, I wonder if this was a cultural thing -- like some by-product of the Cold War. Or my mother's reactivist backlash against Hippie agrarians.

I've got a spot for cans next to the toaster in the kitchen. Mostly kidney beans and tomato paste. The occasional soup.

I can't even imagine how heavy my mother's grocery bags must have been.

Car crashes, hailstorms, and pizza... a day in the life of an independent filmmaker

Been away from the blog for a couple days. Working on directing a new movie. And what a day we had today.

1) An actor went missing in Texas at the last moment [he was supposed to be in Maryland].

2) We got stuck with a hailstorm on what the script called for as a pleasant day.

3) We unintentionally were involved in a car crash en route to a location.

But worst of all: the lunch pizza was kinda lousy.

You see, I've noticed something about being on a film shoot: you tend to eat lots of pizza and junk food. This could help to explain all those hefty directors: Hitch, Peter Jackson, Michael Moore...

My buddy Chris and I decided back when we worked out how to shoot this film that our goal was to finish a full-feature film that would get distributed and make us enough money so that on our next film we could afford a car crash.

Alas, we got the car crash... just not the sort we intended.

Maybe we'll make our next goal to hire a catering truck.

Chocolate Jesus

For those of you following the ever-evolving epic of my personal relationship with vegetarian jerky, may I just offer this:

Now that we have Chocolate Jesus, let's put our heads together and forge a lobby to instigate some great and progressive food producing company to take this to the next stage -- Veggie Jerky Jesus.

I'll start working on the song.