The Gastronomy of Marriage: A Review of Sorts

I have a great admiration for writers. Real writers—people who know how to shape words to form beautiful, descriptive sentences and those who tell captivating stories with rich characters that transport a reader to specific places and times.

Every once in a while I get asked if I am a writer. I struggle with my answer because while technically by the act of putting words together in a specific order as to transmit a precise thought I am writing, I do not think of myself as a writer. Not a true writer anyway. I write as a hobby. I string together a few paragraphs about some amusing stuff my kids did and hit the “publish” button. To me, a real writer uses words the way a sculpture uses clay. They have a far greater command of the English language than I and they have far more creative minds. I also have special reverence for those who have had a book published. The act of composing a work that is not only coherent but also riveting for a few hundred pages is to me an impressive accomplishment. I am in awe of their talent and, frankly, a little jealous of their ability to earn a living from crafting the written word.

I don’t know many people who have written a book, let alone had one published. However, my friend Michelle did just that. She recently came to town on her book tour and even though I’ve known her for years, after reading her book I couldn’t help but look at her with a certain degree of celebrity. Michelle told me about her endeavor over a year ago, and not only was I intrigued by the idea that she was writing a book, but I was enthralled with the topic.

Michelle Maisto’s new book is called The Gastronomy of Marriage. It’s a memoir about a young woman, her fiancé and their relationship to food as they begin to build a life together. Michelle is Italian and her husband to be, Rich, is Chinese. Michelle is vegetarian. Rich is a carnivore. To them, food is more than just sustenance. As told through Michelle’s point of view, the act of choosing, preparing and consuming a meal is a ritual that unites them as a family.

Michelle is an evocative writer who paints lush pictures with her words that allows the reader to practically see and smell the food about which she writes. She is honest and open, letting her life and her passion for all things culinary spill onto the page. It is impossible to read this book without getting hungry. Thankfully, the chapters are punctuated with recipes of the food contained within.

I truly enjoyed this book, not only because I am proud of my friend who wrote it, and not only because it was about a subject that I also love, but because it’s the kind of eloquently written book that inspires me.

If you like to read and you like to eat, I wholeheartedly recommend The Gastronomy of Marriage.

I Continue To Be Digusting

I love the gluttonous marathon of eating that comes along with Fair Day. The amount of food consumed by the attendees at a state our county fair is staggering. And I am right there with them, eating everything in my path.

In what's becoming an annual tradition (click here for 2007, here for 2008), here is a rundown of everything I ate at the fair this year:

Brownie
Beer
Deep Fried Bacon Cheeseburger
Deep Fried Frog Legs
Deep Fried Oreo
Garlic Parmesan Indian Fry Bread
Beer
Roasted corn
ChocolateCovered Bacon
Deep Fried Reeses Whipp
Beer
Pulled Pork Sammich
Curly Fries
Deep Fried Twinkie
Deep Fries Smores
Zucchini Weeni
Apple Fries

As you can see, there are number of favorites that repeat year after year. (I am a creature of habit.) Though I do like to try new things, which is why you'll see deep fried frog legs on the list this year. They had both a bland flavor and a rubbery texture of fish that's been overcooked. Don't expect them to show up again in the future.

Out of the new stuff the stand outs were the deep fried bacon cheeseburger. The patty itself contained the bacon and was then deep fried, giving it a crunchy outer layer. The added texture was a deliciously interesting addition to the burger eating experience.

Chocolate covered bacon was also highly memorable. The Bacon Bar didn't quite live up to my expectations, but this treat was bacon and chocolate the way I had been waiting for. A crispy piece of bacon was dipped in deep, dark chocolate and served chilled. The chocolate had a nice snap and the bacon had crunch. Sweet and salty. My only complaint was that some of the pieces chocolate to bacon ratio was tipped a little bit too much in the chocolate direction. But this is minor. Bacon covered chocolate is good stuff.

As my friends following me on Twitter learned, we decided against sampling the soy sauce ice cream. It's a decision I stand behind.

I'm now off to down a bottle of Pepto, turn on an episode of The Simpsons and curl up into a nice little food coma on the couch.

Food For Thought

Hey gang. I'm camping out at Venus vs. Mars today. Normally I talk about the differences between WonderWife™ and me, but today I'm talking about our similarities. Check it out.

The Plan for Meatballs

I’m overjoyed that my son is old enough for a movie theater and can now be my movie buddy. However, it’s a gamble taking him to a flick because his track record for sitting through an entire movie is spotty at best. Now it’s one thing if we leave halfway through Hotel For Dogs or G-Force. But you want to leave in the middle of a Pixar movie and you and me got problems, mister. (Halfway through Up, we had problems.)

I’m not one who feels like he’s being forced into sitting through the latest cartoon flick. I have been going to animated movies long before I had kids. When I first saw the trailer for Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs months ago, I knew I wanted to see it. I also wanted to share it with the Bean. But I didn’t want to have to bail on it before it was over. So I began working on a plan to insure against such a thing.

I first obtained a copy of the classic book on which the movie is based. The Bean was pretty much hooked from the moment the pancake landed on the boy’s head until the kids went outside to play with their grandfather in the snow. Along the way, I also rediscovered my own memories of the book, buried under each page. When it was finished, he asked me to read it again. And again. And yet again.

Next, I plopped him on my lap in front of my computer and downloaded the trailer. He giggled softly as the glorious HD picture flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t long before he was reciting one of the lines from the trailer. It became his most requested video, for a while replacing the elephant jumping on a trampoline.

My plan was working. The Bean soon began asking to see the movie. Because he lives in an on-demand world of Tivo’d shows and DVDs, he couldn’t wrap his little mind around the fact that we still had to wait a month before we could see it. A few weeks later, when we drove past a billboard for the flick, the Bean pointed it out and I knew he was ready.

Opening weekend finally arrived. WonderWife™ had never taken the Bean to a movie, and she knew that her taking him instead of me wasn’t an option, so with Sprout being looked after by a babysitter, the three of us went to a matinee.

An hour and a half later, the credits rolled and we were all still in our seats.

I’m not sure I could tell you who enjoyed the movie the most. It had been a while since I had seen a movie in the theater with WW™ and I had forgotten how wonderfully boisterous her laugh could be. True to form, the Bean loved all of the broad physical comedy. I appreciated how sly and subversive it was. The movie never pandered. It didn’t force pop culture references down our throats. It merely entertained each of us, thoroughly.

For the past few days, in between talking like a pirate and tormenting the cats, the Bean will reference a scene from the movie. Every time, I’m more than happy to indulge my movie buddy and talk about it with him.

Under Your Spell

Dear Sprout,

I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you have me completely under your spell. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but lately all you have to do is look at me the right way and I’m a puddle. It’s like something out of a sci-fi movie. I am no longer in control.

I had always heard that dads have a special relationship with their daughters, but up till now you have been clinging to your mom’s side so much that I wasn’t even sure if you knew I was in the room. Now that you’re walking and talking, you’ve been less reliant on your mother. You’ve even taken some time out of your busy brother-worshiping schedule to build a relationship with me.

It started with our first private joke. I looked over at you one morning during breakfast, shook my arms and make an “oooo” sound. It cracked you decidedly up. You started asking for it again and again by waving your arms at me. Every time, I was happy to oblige. Maybe it was at that point that you realized that I could make you laugh. You also realized you can make me laugh too. That’s when the devilish grins started, along with the sweet “innocent” smile you use to try to cover up the fact that you’re about to do something naughty. I love it when I’m working in the study and you poke your head around the corner and say “hi” until you get my attention. After you pull away coyly, only to pop back up with another “hi” and blow me a kiss. See? Melting, I am.

Of course you know that I eat all of this up as if it were made of bacon. You’re smart enough to understand that you’ve got me hooked and I am at your beck and call. But that’s okay. You keep charming me and I’ll keep lavishing attention on you. It’s what daddy/daughter relationships are all about.

So much love,
Daddy

Arrggh. I Don't Know What I'm Doin'.

September 19th is International Talk Like a Pirate Day and we're celebratin' early. Arrggh! So now I present ta yah, a rare treat...audio. Here is tha Bean:

So Very Tired

I am tired all of the time. It doesn't take a sciencetician to figure out why. I work. A lot. I sleep. But not enough. I eat. Not always healthy. After 4 ever day, I'm constantly yawning. I'm lethargic when we hang around the house on weekends. I want to crash, but there are always things to do. My job gives me homework. When the kids nap, it's work time. If I nap when they are awake, I'm making WonderWife™ "work" as she needs to take care of the kids. That's unfair. She works longer and harder than I do. But trudging around the house like a Romero zombie isn't doing anyone any good. I'm not engaged. I'm not being a good dad.

It doesn't help that the Bean has yet to really learn how to play with others. When he asks me to play, he's really asking me to sit beside him while he pushes his cars around. It can be boring sometimes. The other day, I lay on his bed while he played. It wasn't long before I passed out. I'm fairly confident that I was snoring because I woke up to find the Bean staring at me, with a look that asked why I was disturbing his play time by sawing logs. I responded by putting my head back down and going back to sleep.

The solutions are right in front of me. Working out is a simple one. But honestly, I don't know where to find the time. Eating right demands will power that I am having trouble finding. I could go to sleep earlier, but this cuts into my precious quality time, where for a little while each day I get to write, watch some TV, have a conversation with WW™ or see some friends. There are times when my life feels overstuffed and squeezed, like a sausage in its casing.

I know that I need to make changes. For me. For my family. For my sanity. But it's really hard. I'm exhausted.

The Wit and Wisdom of the Bean, Volume 2

My son knows a great many things. Sometimes he likes to share his wisdom with us. Far be it for me to keep this information all to myself. And so once again, I share it with you...

“I have ribs cause I ate ribs. My mouth ate ribs and turned them into bone.”

“You’re pudgy because you’ve got a baby inside of you.” (Said to me)

“Look I have a Woody.” (Pointing to his crotch adorned with Toy Story underwear).

“Mommy you need to take the hair off your arms before it grows so long that ot goes up to the sky and hits the clouds and the rain will come out of the clouds.”

“Boys don’t wear rings!”
“So what do you call these?” I ask holding up my ring-adorned fingers.
“Tires.”

"I want to be a grownup so I can drive so I can go do Disneyland.”

"Your penis looks fun to play with."

“You have to put on gloves so you won't get snow in your veins.”

Getting Your Butt in the Seat

Over the summer, a TV commercial for Harry Potter 6 boasted that the movie had the “biggest worldwide opening ever!” I found this interesting, as this is not the kind of claim that would have been made 10 years ago. However these days, the business of the entertainment business is more transparent. Add this to the fact that the landscape of movies has gotten more crowded and competitive, and this means that Hollywood is now trying to hype their movies by any means necessary—which is why you might hear that the latest blockbuster has just had the biggest opening for a movie on a non-holiday weekend in a month that begins with a vowel. But does the average moviegoer even care?

Harry Potter is one of the biggest franchises in the world. Six movies in, I think that people have largely made up their minds if they’re going to see it or not. So I’m not sure what the tactic was with this ad. Is somebody who is on the fence about the franchise at this point going to be swayed by learning it had the biggest worldwide opening? I can’t help but feel like the bragging in these ads is really for Hollywood insiders, who are patting each other on the back, than for Mr. and Mrs. Multiplex.

Building buzz has become a big thing in movies. Studios spend $35 to $50 million to publicize their movies—more if it's a huge blockbuster. They are working harder than ever to connect with potential audiences and lure them away from their HD TVs, the internet and video games.

One of the biggest examples of the ever-growing importance of marketing is Hollywood's hijacking of the annual San Diego Comic Con. In the last few years, movies have pushed aside the actual comic books for a weekend packed to the rafters with preview screenings and panels—all designed to whip fanboys up into enough of a frenzy so that they will take to their laptops and extol the virtues of the next big blockbuster.

Fox recently tried a different approach. For the highly anticipated James Cameron 3-D movie, Avatar, they held free countrywide screenings of 16 minutes of footage. Those few who have seen it are raving. But again I ask, is this enough to get butts in the seats when the movie opens in 4 months?

How about you? What drives you to want to see a particular movie? Is it the trailer? The poster? Do you care if a movie is number one at the box office? Or has the biggest holiday opening? Or if people in Japan consider it great? Are they doing a good job of wooing audiences? Because Hollywood is working really hard to impress you.

The Teacher Becomes the Student

Before the Bean had his tonsillectomy, he had to have blood drawn. My sources told me that it was a traumatic experience for him. He told me about it when I called him on my drive home.

As he was describing the events of that morning to me, I heard WonderWife™ say in the background, “What’s the kind of doctor that took your blood?”

The Bean said something, but I wasn’t sure what.

“Can you repeat that?” I asked.

He said it again. I still could not understand.

“One more time, buddy."

"Repeat after me," he said. "Phle..." He paused, waiting for me.

I obeyed. "Phle..."

He continued, "Bot."

"Bot."

"Ta."

"Ta."

"Mist."

"Mist."

"Phlebotomist," he said.

"Wow buddy," I told him. "I didn't know that."

I really didn't. My son had just taught me something.