I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: PHISH-The Story of the Ghost (1998).

The Story of the Ghost is one of the first Phish albums that I was aware of when it came out.  I remember buying it and liking it, especially the first few songs.  This is not surprising as the first few songs are much more electric and funky.  By the end of the album there’s a lot of mid tempo songs that feel like they’re somewhat incomplete—good ideas but the songs feel…unfinished?

“Ghost” has a funky guitar and drum section, it’s a song I’ve liked from the day I bought the disc.  But the real hit was “Birds of a Feather,” which has an amazingly catchy chorus.  This version (as opposed to the live one) is weird in that Trey is kind of whispering the vocals, but the guitar is ferocious.

“Meat” is a weird skittery song that sounds cavernous here.  The weird processed vocals are certainly something that keeps this song like more of an oddity.  “Guyute” sounds an awful lot like early Phish—like it has come from Gamehendge, it’s a nice return to old form.  It’s a great song with a really lengthy instrumental section.  This features one of Trey’s great extended pretty solos.

“Fikus” is a strange little song (2 minutes), with lots of percussion and a quiet bass line.  “Shafty” has got  some cool wah wah guitars, and is also only 2 minutes long, but it shows that there is a bunch of funk on the disc.  “Limb by Limb” is a fun if simple song that seems sparse until the chorus kicks in.  “Frankie Says” is a kind of circular song that is interesting but doesn’t really go anywhere.  “Water in the Sky” is a short piece but it is full of ideas—percussion, slide guitar, and nice harmonies.  “Roggae” is a fun little song with some fugue like vocals.

“Wading in the Velvet Sea’ is a very pretty song with very nice harmonies.  “The Moma Dance” is a funky wah wah guitared track which really comes to life live, although I like the way they reprise “Ghost” at the end.  The final track is called “End of Session,” it’s a very mellow little number (also less than 2 minutes) with organ and gentle guitars.  There’s a small verse of harmonies as the albums drifts off.

This album is one of the band’s less popular recordings, but i think it’s quite good.

[READ: October 30, 2013] Lives of Notorious Cooks

Brendan Connell is back with a book which demonstrates that whatever subject he writes about, he delves in deeply and with great relish.

Connell’s new book is, as the title says, a series of brief lives of fictional cooks.  There are 51 biographies in this book.  From Connell’s previous works and from the title, I expected that these cooks might be somewhat less than savory characters.  But Connell makes these chefs genuinely impressive—making delicious meals from both the finest ingredients or the lowest of items.

As with previous stories by Connell, the depth of his knowledge is impressive—he includes not only recipes but complete menus of feasts.  And as usual, his word choices are wonderful—exuberant when necessary, obscure if useful and always spot on.

Although I am normally inclined to make a comment about each “story “ in a  collection, this one really resists that.  There are not enough distinguishing characteristics between cooks for me to write enough about each one (without rewriting the book).  This is not in any way to say that each is not unique, but that they are all cooks, each specializing in a different food or style.  But rather than from saying “Agis cooks fish” it’s better to take this book as a whole rather than in pieces.

The cooks are listed alphabetically, so there is no “development” of cooking through the course of the book.  It is, indeed, like an encyclopedia.  So we have cooks from Greece (Agis, during the era of Hermes; Coroebus, whose bread was better than meat or wine; Nereus, called the Homer of cooks), from Rome (Paxamus, inventor of the biscuit), from the Middle East (Bid’A, who was singled out by Prince Abū Ishak Ibrahīm ibn al-Mahdi ibn Abi Jaafar al Mansūr ibn Muhammad Ibn Ali Ibn Abd Allah ibn al Abbās ibn Abd al Muttalib al-Hāshimi, or Nossair who had the cleanest shop in all of Mecca), even from Transylvania (Marx Rumpolt, whose dinner menu consisted of boiled porcupine and beaver stuffed with braised billy goat testicles).

And there are women as well, like Mrs. Estella Atrutel (born in 1822 in London) who has left us words for posterity like “Good stock is the foundation of good cookery” and “A joint badly carved is entirely spoilt.”  Or Lady Joshi about whom little is known except for her book Needless Gleanings from the Kitchen.

Many of the biographies are short (1-2 pages) but some are longer, like Robert Baddeley, whose story follows him from the age of 12 when he was a confectioner’s apprentice until his death when he willed £100 to purchase a “twelfth-night cake and wine and punch, which the ladies and gentlemen of Drury Lane Theatre are requested to partake of every Twelfth Night, in the great green room, forever.”  Or Marie-Antoine Carême who started working in a chop house for no pay and worked up to becoming a restaurateur (his biography features an interview with Apicius about the preparation of veal).

Or take Congrio who knocked on the door of Publius Pupienus Maximus, one of the richest men in Rome and offered to be his cook.  When Publius said he already had one, Congrio said “No, you have a cold.”  There’s also Rufus Estes who was eventually hired by the Pullman Palace Car Company and elevated what it meant to dine by rail.  I also enjoyed the attitude of Jules Maincave who believed “one can paint as well with a spatchula as with a brush.”

The biographies also show cooks who do one thing very well, like Joseph Cooper, who excelled in pickled cucumbers.  Lady Chen helped Mr Chen flavor his dofu.  Or even Thimbron about whom little is known except that on his tombstone was this recipe for eels:

Slice into round and boil in water and vinegar.
Sauté with abundant marjoram and serve with oil.

There’s even a father and son entry—Edwarde May and son Robert May, who learned at his father’s side.

I had mentioned a multi-course menu.  Bartolomeo Scappi has a lunch menu which is nine pages long and includes separate menus for each of: first credenza service, first service from the kitchen, second service from the kitchen, third service from the kitchen fourth and final service from the kitchen and second and last service from the kitchen.

There is even the surprise of Louis Stanislas Xavier who served as King of France and Navarre under the title Louis XVIII but who really wished to be a cook.

So this is an elaborate labor of love and love of food.  I’m not exactly sure that this book will make you hungry–many of the recipes are unfamiliar if not impossible to make– but it certainly gives you an appreciation for fine cookery (and Connell’s creativity).

It would be hard for this book not to remind me of Roberto Bolaño’s Nazi Literature in the Americas which is a series of biographies of various writers.  But Connell’s accounts are much shorter–and are a bit more effective for it.  The only complaint I have about the book is that I wish that he had given dates and locations right under the cooks’ names.  It would have been interesting to see some chronology and rationality at a glance.

For ease of searching i include Roberto Bolano, Marie-Antoine Careme