Oswald Rivera

Author: Oswald Rivera (page 83 of 84)

Spam and SPAM

Like everyone else in this universe, every time I go through my e-mail listing I have to tackle those pesky little messages known collectively as spam—one of the most egregious evils ever devised by the human mind. But this also bugs me for another reason. It categorically puts a negative attribute to one of humankind’s greatest innovation: SPAM. Spam and SPAM (evil and good, dark and light, the worst and the best that we can configure). Let me make it as clear-cut as possible: I may hate spam, but I love SPAM. And I, as a voice of one, object to the fact that the word has come to be associated with such a nefarious Internet activity.

Computer spam is an unsolicited electronic message. The Oxford English Dictionary defines it as: “Irreverent or inappropriate messages sent on the Internet to a large number of newsgroups or users.” Whereas SPAM is the “miracle meat” (as defined by its producer, Hormel Foods Corporation) which was launched in 1937 and, according to some pundits, saved western civilization. Supposedly, SPAM stands for “Shoulder of Pork and Ham,” its primary ingredients. Others have derided it as “Spare Parts Animal Meat.” Whatever you call it, it has its supporters and detractors. Like political parties, you either love it or hate. I am in the supporters’ camp.

No less an authority than Dwight D. Eisenhower proclaimed that the two things that won World War II for the Allies were SPAM and the Jeep. Nikita Khrushchev (a former leader of the Soviet Union) said that it saved the Russian Army from starvation on the eastern front. Because it didn’t need refrigeration, it was shipped to every GI on every battlefield. Though soldiers complained about having to eat it every day, after the war they continued to do so. When I was a kid, my mother would cook it every way possible. Then as now, it was considered “poor man’s food.” We still love it.

Whatever you think of its pedigree, SPAM today is sold worldwide. The English, bless ’em, never lost their taste for it. Today, outside of the U.S. it is sold most in the United Kingdom and South Korea (yes, South Korea). In Hawaii it is called the “Hawaiian Steak.” One popular dish is Spam Musabi, a combination of cooked SPAM with rice and nori seaweed. SPAM is even used by the Israeli Defense Force as a primary ingredient in combat meals. Only difference is, they use beef instead of pork. Also, the Hebrew word for SPAM is Luf. It has so captured the popular imagination that even Monty Python, the English comedy troupe, used it to headline their Broadway musical, Spamalot. SPAM even has its own museum in Austin, Minnesota. I doubt if you’ll ever see a museum dedicated to spam.

So there you have it. One of the greatest inventions of humankind versus one of its greatest foibles. Next time you hassle with the spam on the Internet, just shut off the computer and open up a can of SPAM, make a sandwich, or serve it as an appetizer, or cook it in any variety you want. Believe me, it will be much more rewarding than fighting the infernal machine.

The following is one of our favorite SPAM recipes. My mother would make it for breakfast, and it’s a delight now as then. What’s good about SPAM these days is that it comes in different varieties. There’s Classic SPAM, Hot & Spicy, Low Sodium, SPAM Lite, Hickory Smoked, and my favorite, Roasted Turkey. Use which ever version you like, and enjoy.

SPAM AND CHEESE OMELET

6 large eggs

1/4 teaspoon black ground pepper

2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil or 1/2 teaspoon dried

2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely minced

1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1/4 cup olive oil

1 12-ounce can SPAM, cut lengthwise into 1/4-inch slices, and slices cut into

1/4-inch strips

1. In a bowl, beat eggs lightly and add pepper, basil, garlic, and half of the Parmesan cheese.

2. Heat oil in a large frying pan or skillet (preferably cast iron). Add SPAM and cook until meat is heated (2-3 minutes).

3. Add eggs, cover and cook over low heat 12-15 minutes or until egg mixture is set on top.

4. Sprinkle with remaining Parmesan cheese, and place under the broiler for 1-2 minutes or until cheese starts to bubble.

5. Cut into wedges and serve.

Yield: 4 servings.

Pizza: The Great Jewish Invention

May 27, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 0 Comments

Ever wonder how pizza, one of America’s favorite foods, came about? Millions of pies are consumed daily. But how did it all begin? And where did it come from? Of course, one never thinks of this while enjoying their favorite slice. Leave it to a compulsive nut like me to reflect on this. Yet Pizza does have an interesting and varied history. First of all, we think of it as an Italian invention. Well, there are many theories out there as to the origins of pizza, and in this respect our Italian brethren are not the only ones involved.

Pizza, at its basic, is baked dough with toppings; and its genesis comes from flat, round bread cakes that have been with us since the beginning of time. The ancient Greeks had a flat round bread (plankuntos) baked with an assortment and toppings and eaten at the time by the common folk. In ancient Persia (modern day Iraq) soldiers of Darius the Great in the 6th century B.C.E. baked a kind of flat bread on their shields and covered it with dates and cheese. But I do not credit the invention of pizza to those great empires, mighty though they may have been. My favorite theory about the invention of pizza involves the Jews and Imperial Rome. Scoff in you will, but the logic and proof is irrefutable. Just as some credit Irish monks with preserving ancient manuscripts and thus saving western civilization during the Dark Ages, I credit the Jews with inspiring America’s favorite snack.

Here’s how it all happened. In the year 66 of the Common Era, the Jews rose up in revolt against their Roman oppressors in then Judea (modern day Israel). The Romans sent in general Titus Flavius Vespasian with four legions, among them the 10th Legion. The revolt lasted until September 70 C.E. During that time, the soldiers of the 10th legion faced a shortage of supplies, primarily bread. The only thing they had available was unleavened bread that the Jews ate, especially during their holy days. The Jewish unleavened bread was much like present day pita bread, which is still consumed today in Greece and the Middle East (along with countless yuppies on the East Side). But the Romans couldn’t stomach this unleavened bread because, truthfully, to them it tasted awful. So they put toppings on it, usually a mix of olive oil, vegetables, herbs and even honey.

With the squashing of the revolt, the 10th Legion was sent back to its home base in Naples. And the legionaries (much like the GIs returning from Italy after the Second World War with a yen for newly discovered pizza) brought back with them a taste for this flavored flat bread. Soon it became a Naples favorite. In fact, shops have been discovered in the ancient city of Pompeii complete with marble slabs and other tools which resemble a conventional pizzeria.

What about the tomatoes and cheese and all that other stuff? The Romans used cheese as a topping as well. Tomatoes were brought to Europe from Peru in the 16th century, and people in Naples started adding tomatoes to the flat bread

to create the simple pizza that we know today. They became known as “Neopolitan pies” and the men who baked the dish (in the poorer sections of Naples, by the way) were “pizzaioli”—hence the pie became “pizza.”

So there you have it. You can thank our Jewish brethren (by way of the ancient Romans) for this heavenly creation. Today there are hundreds of toppings for pizza, everything from Jalapeno peppers to caviar. It is estimated that American and Canadian citizens eat an average of 23 pounds of pizza, per person, per year, with the favorite topping combination being pepperoni and cheese. And February 9th is International Pizza Day!

Below is the simplest pizza recipe I know. It’s not your traditional pie. It follows more along the lines of the savory enjoyed by the ancient Romans in that it uses a flat bread as the pie. In this case, focaccia. You can get focaccia bread in almost any supermarket these days. My favorite is the Boboli brand which comes in original pizza crust, thin crust, or 100% whole wheat. The recipe is a variation on Pizza Margherita, named after Queen Margherita of Italy who is reputed in 1889 to have inspired her chef to create a pizza with tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and basil—to emulate the color of the Italian flag: Red, white and green.

Combine 2 tablespoons olive oil; 1/2 pound plum, chopped tomatoes (can use good quality canned tomatoes); 2 garlic cloves, finely minced; and salt to taste. Set aside. Top the focaccia with 6 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese, and then add the tomato mixture. Bake on a baking sheet or oven rack at 450 degrees for 8-10 minutes. Remove from oven and top with 1/4 cup shredded Parmesan cheese and 1/4 cup fresh chopped basil. Cut into wedges and serve.

The Golden Fruit: Olive Oil

May 21, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 0 Comments

Image via Wikipedia

For the past few years there’s been an explosion of olive oil use in this country. It wasn’t always so. I recall that as a kid in Spanish Harlem we used olive oil mainly for dressing on salads. That was about the extent of it. My Anglo friends didn’t use it at all. When they did get exposed to it, it was at some Italian restaurant where it was drizzled on greens. Of course that has changed. Today olive oil is ubiquitous. It’s everywhere. So I thought it’d be a good time to revisit this topic.

Olive oil goes back to the mists of time. The ancient Greeks and Romans used it in their diet, so did the Persians and Arabs. It has a long rich history in the Mediterranean. Essentially it’s made the same way today as it was long ago: after the olive tree is harvested, and the olives plucked, they are pressed to extract their oil, usually within 48 hours to preserve their quality and flavor.

In ancient times olive oil was not only used in the kitchen. It also had uses as a medicine for cuts and burns. It was prized as a cosmetic to maintain a youthful glow (that’s because olive oil contains something called hydroxytyrosol, an antioxidant, which can actually slow the aging process in the skin). It was even used as an ointment for dead people. Figure that one out. In the ancient Olympic games it was given as an award for victorious athletes. Imagine A-Rod of the Yankees getting paid with 10 million casks of olive oil.

What’s good about olive oil, then as now, are its health benefits. Unlike butter or margerine it doesn’t promote heart disease. It assists in regulating cholesterol. It is 77% mono saturated fat, the “good fat” that maintains good HDL cholesterol levels—as opposed to the bad cholesterol, LDH. In fact, if you want to maintain a healthy diet, instead of slapping wads of butter on your bread, do like they do it in Italy and Spain and sprinkle a little olive oil on the bread. It’s unique flavor gives the bread just the right balance. And remember that in Mediterranean countries where olive oil consumption is high, they has less incidence of cardiovascular problems.

Olive oil can be used for cooking, baking, marinades, grilling, sauteing and stir-frying. There are different types, of course. The most popular these days is extra virgin olive oil. This comes from “cold pressing” of the olives. That means that no heat is used in the production so that the flavor matures naturally. It is beloved by connoisseurs. Then there’s regular (or heavy) olive oil, which is a combination of refined and extra virgin or virgin olive oil. Being the Philistine that I am, I prefer the regular or heavy olive oil. Perhaps because that’s all we had in Spanish Harlem, usually the Goya brand. To my palette it has a fuller flavor than the extra virgin. Next comes “light” or “mild” olive oil for the weight-conscious among us. It’s basically a refined olive oil that has a lighter flavor and color than the regular type. However, here’s a secret for all you weight conscious individuals: light or mild olive oil has the same caloric and fat content as all other oils (120 calories or 14 grams of fat per tablespoon). And then there is olive pomace oil which is used in the foodservice industry. This oil is extracted from the pomace, or the remaining portion of the olives after pressing. Most likely you won’t find this one on your grocers’ shelf.

There’s an olive oil out there for all your uses. So instead of just splashing it on your salad, go and experiment. It’s distinctive taste and aroma enhances any meal.

Below is a quick, easy recipe using, you guessed it—olive oil. It comes from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Avalon Books) where olive oil is prominent in most of the recipes.

POLLO AL HORNO

(ROAST CHICKEN)

2 broiler fryers, about 3 pounds each, split in half

1/2 cup olive oil

Salt and ground black pepper to taste

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon dried tarragon

2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed

1. Wash chicken halves and pat dry with paper towels. Place in a large bowl.

2. In a small bowl or cup, mix the olive oil, salt and pepper, oregano, tarragon and crushed garlic. Pour over the chicken, rubbing the seasoning thoroughly into the skin. Cover and let stand 15 minutes or, better still, refrigerate overnight.

3. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Remove chicken halves from marinade and place in a shallow roasting pan, skin side up. Bake for 30-40 minutes or until golden brown and the juices are no longer pink.

Yield: 4 to 6 servings.

The Soloist

May 15, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 0 Comments

Friends have lately been urging me to go see, The Soloist, a movie that has gotten, by and large, favorable reviews. I finally had a chance to catch the flic; and wasn’t disappointed. It’s a moving, poignant work that traces the friendship developed between LA Times columnist Steve Lopez and a homeless street musician, Nathanial Ayers. The movie chronicles how Mr. Lopez befriends Mr. Ayers, and discovers that this homeless castaway was once a Juilliard trained musical prodigy who is afflicted by schizophrenia. And it’s a riveting tale that describes Mr. Ayers world, both musically and in terms of homelessness.

I have a particular interest in this topic since I wrote a book on it (The Proud and the Immortal). My book detailed the lives of a homeless community that evolved in the old Amtrak tunnels below New York City. Its emphasis was the same. In the tunnels I met drifters, addicts, seekers, prophets, and people just trying to get by—the whole gamut of what constituted a society in microcosm.

The movie cannot be faulted. Its story of the two main characters as portrayed by Jamie Foxx as Nathanial Ayers and Robert Downey Jr. as Steve Lopez, is nothing short of amazing. Everyone. I mean, everyone should see this movie. If only to get an idea that we still live in a society of the haves and have-nots.

The only qualm I have about the picture is this: It depicts a human being of great talent and humanity. But what about those homeless individuals who are not blessed with Mr. Ayers gifts? Would Mr. Lopez had stopped to catch this person pouring his soul into a two-stringed violin if the man had just been lying on the street begging for his next meal? Would he had been moved to write such inspiring columns on this individual if the man did not possess such prowess with a cello? That’s the rub here. We seek out those who are specially gifted, and that’s to their credit. But we are not all so gifted. We are not all geniuses whether on the streets or not.

People become homeless for a variety of reasons: A bad economy, some ailment, emotional or mental distress, addiction, some natural disaster, or just having the bad luck of coming up short on their next rent payment. I said it before, and I’ll say it again: A lot of us are just a paycheck away from homelessness. It’s not the wrath of the gods or some defect in our character. There is a lot to attribute to homelessness.

I’m glad that Mr. Ayers had a chance, no matter how brief, to find his way back into his beloved vocation of music. But what about the homeless mother living in a shelter who doesn’t have such gifts? When do we pay her homage? Or the homeless veteran who’s still trying to come to terms with his own issues? When do we pay him homage? Or the teenager who’s been thrown out of the house? Or the auto plant worker who lost his or her job, and house and family, and their self-respect living on the streets? When do we pay them homage?

Don’t get me wrong. I am glad and heartened that Mr. Ayers’ story has come to light. But there are so many more out there, less gifted perhaps, but no less worthy of our concern.

The World of BBQ

May 13, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 1 Comment

Waiting in a bus stop on the Upper East Side, I noticed an advertisement for an outdoor electric grill that’s touted as “the grill for the city.” That set me to thinking: here we are once again on the verge of the barbecue grilling season. Officially it comes with the Memorial Day holiday. That’s when it all starts again as the harbinger of summer.

In my travels throughout the planet I’ve never encountered anything comparable to our tradition of barbecue. A Japanese hibachi is not a barbecue. The grilled lamb served in Middle Eastern restaurants is not barbecue. No, this is a uniquely American endeavor; and it’s a guy thing. Men who wouldn’t know how to boil water will, once the days get warm, bring out the backyard grill, don the apron and the gloves, grab the tongs, spatula and steak fork, and begin their barbecue ritual. You will seldom see women doing this (I never have); it’s always the guys.

My wife, Holly, attributes this to male bonding over beer and booze. She may have a point there; but it’s much more than that. Setting up the grill, whether gas, charcoal or other is a male rite of passage. Slapping on the burgers and hot dogs with salsa and steak sauce is akin to a religious pilgrimage. Why this is so, makes a fascinating topic.

The concept of the barbecue comes from the Caribbean. In the northern part of the island of Hispaniola, the cannibalistic Carib Indians were reputed to have cooked meat over a green wood frame bult over a fire of animal bones and hides. Whether it was human meat or other that they cooked, is open to question. They called the process boucan. From about 1610 onward the Spaniards began cooking the pigs and cattle they had brought to the island in the same manner. They called the greenwood frame a barbacoa. Today we know this as barbecue—without the Caribs natural flavorings, or course.

American barbecuing as we know it, originated in the South. One theory posits that Caribbean peoples migrated to the south-eastern U.S. and brought with them the concept of barbecue. It quickly spread throughout the South where the pig was a ubiquituous staple. Pig roasts became a southern tradition and southern barbecue grew out of that. From there it spread to the north where it becanme omnipresent at church picnics and socials, and political rallies. Barbecue even made it to the U.S. Supreme Court in 1968 where in the case of Newman v. Piggy Park Enterprises, Inc., the court ruled that Maurice Bessinger’s chain (Piggy Park) unlawfully discriminated against African-Americans.

Today barbecue grilling in the U.S. is enjoyed by every class and every race—but it’s still a male dominated cooking thing. That, as Tevye would say in Fiddler on the Roof, is tradition!

One more thing. True-blue southerners would never spell barbecue with a “q.” That is for Yankee outdoor food parties. It’s always barbecue with a “c”—unless it’s abbreviated, then it’s BBQ.

In my second cookbook, The Pharaoh’s Feast (Aavalon Books), I comment on the phenomenon of the suburbs and backyard grilling. And the fifties are identified with it. That’s when the suburbs mushroomed and scorching labs of meat outdoors became the norm. Below is a recipe fetaured in that tome and it comes from The Complete Book of Outdoor Cookery (1956). The recipe gives you an idea of what barbecuing 1950s style was all about.

HAMBURGER STEAK

For 4 persons you should have 2 pounds of ground beef chuck, top round or top sirloin. Form the meat, being certain that you can handle it lightly, into a large cake about 2 to 3 inches thick. Salt and pepper it well, and place in a long-handled grill or small gridiron over the coals. Broil it quickly, really just sear it well on each side, and get it crusty on the outside and soft and rare in the center. Remove to a hot platter, cut it in wedges, and serve. It is good with roasted corn and slices of raw onion which have been vinegared and salted and allowed to marinate for an hour or two.

Beam Me Up, Scotty.

May 7, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 2 Comments

This weekend marks another debut of that old, venerable franchise: Star Trek. By that, I mean Star Trek, the movie. Supposedly, this is not a continuation of all (nine) former Star Trek movies. This is a prequal of the original old TV show that aired in the sixties. We get to see the origins of Captain James T. Kirk, pointy eared Science Officer Spock (every one’s favorite character in the original), Dr. “Bones” McCoy, et all. Let me say that as, an old Trekkie, I can’t wait. I grew up with the series when I was a teenager; and I’ve followed its progress though all the movies and every TV incarnation including Star Trek: the Next Generation, to Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager, and the last TV show, Enterprise. I’m a sucker for the franchise.

The series was the brainchild of Gene Roddenbury, a visionary screenwriter and producer. I’ve enjoyed every Star Trek vehicle and hope someday there’ll be another series. As for the movies, some were great, like the second one, “The Wrath of Khan,” with an aging Ricardo Montalban, as one critic put it, looking like the world’s oldest rock star and trying to conquer the universe. And some of the flics were duds, like the last one, “Nemeses.” The only good thing about that effort was that, finally, Commander Riker and Counselor Troi tied the knot. It also had a cameo with Admiral, then captain, Janeway of the Voyager series.

What fascinated me about Star Trek was its view of the future. It was a world that, in retrospect, was a paradise that from time to time was threatened by Klingons (my favorite villains), the Romulans (cousins of the ultra-logical Vulcans), the Borg, and the Dominion (shape-shifters from a wormhole bordering Deep Space Nine). I yearned that such a world would come to pass; especially in terms of their technology. And, in certain respects, that technology has come full circle. In the original Star Trek they had a thingy called the communicator that allowed them to communicate with their ship orbiting in space. Guess what? We have cell phones that allow us to speak to anyone on the planet via signals that are bounced off satellites orbiting the earth. The show also had sliding doors. Well, duh, go into any supermarket or office tower these days and you have sliding doors letting you in and out. Some things, however, were a bit more obtuse. Think of the transporter room where a human could travel from one place to another instantaneously. In science circles it’s called teleportation. And I won’t even try to explain the mechanics behind that. But the most interesting thing was warp drive. This allowed the starship Enterprise to travel anywhere in the universe. As I understand it, this entails bending of space time. If you can bend space time in front and back of a spaceship, the space-time compression in the back will provide thrust for the spacecraft to move forward at phenomenal speed. Thus you could travel to Mars in, let’s say, twenty minutes rather than years. I don’t think this is going to happen anytime soon.

Still, my favorite thing portrayed in the world of Star Trek was that there was no money. By the 24th century, humankind had developed replicators that could fashion anything out of thin air, be it clothing, food, drink and yes, cash—so no cash was needed, Everyone had a replicator and everyone was as happy as pig in slop. I doubt we’ll ever get that altruistic.

Star Trek was also innovative in another aspect—it aired the first interracial kiss on network TV. Of course at that time you needed a plot to make this acceptable to the viewing public. So the plot went like this: Captain Kirk (William Shatner) and his communications officer Lt. Uhura (Michelle Nichols) have their minds controlled by villainous beings who had the power of telekinesis (they could move objects with their minds). Kirk and Uhura were forced into making out. Back in Spanish Harlem, when our family saw this episode, we roared in approval, we thought it was great. TV was finally affirming something that was happening around us all the time.

So, friends, I’ll be on line with the rest of the lemmings to see the newest installment of this priceless entity. Good or bad, I’m going to enjoy this show. Like everybody else I’ll stuff my face with pseudo popcorn drizzled with pseudo butter and go where on one has gone before (for the 1000th time).

Swine Flu

April 30, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 1 Comment

(Nurses at Walter Reed Army Hospital treating Spanish Influenza epidemic in 1918)

This swine flu thing (also known as H1N1) has left me with an uneasy feeling. And not because of the flu virus itself. Sad to say, influenza epidemics come and go. As recently as 1976 there was an outbreak among 500 soldiers at Fort Dix, N.J. Only one soldier died. Some are are more widespread than others. One of the most dramatic far reaching instances occurred in the influenza pandemic of 1918-1919. It was also known as Spanish Influenza or “La Grippe” (it first popped up in Madrid in 1918) and it killed tens of millions worldwide. Of course then there were no vaccines or antibiotics. A far cry from today. No, what bothers me about this one is the incessant, shrill cry in some quarters to assess blame. In times of stress we, as a species, have a habit of blaming “the other” for all our ills. It’s bad enough that our hysteria is being fueled by a 24-hour news cycle of saturation coverage on cable news shows and the Internet. I wonder if we would be so hysterical where this not the case.

There are some commentators who are using this crisis to stoke rabid anti-immigration, specifically against Mexicans. The logic goes like this: this new epidemic has, as far as we know, its epicenter in Mexico. The outbreak began there on March 9th, so claim Government officials. It began in a village called, ironically, La Gloria (“The Glory”). And it quickly spread throughout Mexico where to date, there have been 159 deaths. The flu was transported of the U.S. when a group of students from St. Francis Preparatory School in Fresh Meadows, Queens, traveled to Cancun for spring break. And guess what they brought back with them? Thus far in the U.S. there have been 280 confirmed cases of this flu; and all 49 confirmed cases in New York City have been associated with the outbreak at St. Francis Prep (according to the New York Times).

In a country of 300+ million we have 280 confirmed cases. Health officials state, because of the nature of the disease, it’s bound to get worse. What’s interesting is that most of the cases associated with St. Francis Preparatory school have been of a mild form (unlike Mexico). In the U.S., thus far, there’s been one death, a toddler in Texas. Those are the facts and the statistics. And we all hope that this crisis can be handled and it will pass. However, there are those who will use any crisis for their own agendas. There have been calls to seal the border with Mexico, curb all immigration, prevent all those foreigners from coming here to infect our shores; and, in some cases, the crisis is used as another example of our lax immigration policy. If we didn’t have the Mexicans here we wouldn’t have the flu. Admittedly, there is a lot of anxiety in the country right now. That’s understandable. We are all concerned with our health and particularly those of our children, especially when as Fox News proclaimed on Wednesday “swine flu plagues the nation.” But, please, let’s keep a level head, least we descend into that abyss of recrimination and prejudice that seems to flare up at times like these.

It’s an old story, the idea of blaming “the other.” It’s as old as history itself. During the 1840’s and 50’s upright Protestant Americans considered the then Irish immigrants arriving in this country to be a sick, filthy bunch who would bring all the ailments of the old world with them. Add to that, heaven forbid, they were Catholics. There have always been scapegoats During the “Black Death” or the bubonic plague that infected Medieval Europe, where a third of the population died, it was the Jews and witches who were blamed for causing the plague. The plague had become a full-fledged pandemic by 1328 and, in the case of the Jews, rumors spread that they had caused the disease by deliberately poisoning wells. Hundred of Jewish communities were destroyed by violence in the Iberian Peninsula and in Germany, even though then Pope Clement VI issued a declaration stating that the Jews were not responsible for the plague. In the case of witches, it was women who were accused of consorting with the devil to bring about the blight. Hundreds were burned at the stake. It didn’t matter. The plague continued on its deadly rampage decimating whole towns and cities.

Hopefully, this time around, we won’t come to that pass. From the White House on down there is a concerted effort to curtail this disease and halt its spread. Yes, everything must be done to safeguard our health and our safety. But let’s keep in mind that no one group is responsible for the ills of a nation. We’ve had SARS and Hong Kong flu and Avian flu and Legionnaire’s Disease, you name it. No one group has been responsible for that. It’s the nature of the beast that new viruses keep popping up and new countermeasures have to be developed. It’s not the wrath of God or punishment for our lax and immoral ways or just retribution for whatever. It’s simply the way life is in the early 21st century. Instead of blaming “the other,” perhaps we should be more understanding of what “the other” is going through.

Kung Fu Wine

April 22, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 1 Comment

It had to happen. It just had to happen, and it wasn’t even on my radar—until a friend informed me about it. There’s a wine from Washington State called “Kung Fu Girl.” That’s right: Kung Fu Girl. And I am doubly dumbfounded about this since I am into fine wines (and not so fine wines) and of course, Kung Fu which (as I’ve mentioned on this blog ad nauseum) I’ve practiced for 35+years. The fact that this wine has been around, I think, since 2006 and I didn’t know about it, leaves me feeling quite asinine (I could use another adjective but this is a family blog).

The wine in question is a white wine, a Riesling (more about that later) made by winemaker Charles Smith of the famed K-Vintners; and it comes from the Columbia Valley in Washington. As per its name, it’s a wine tailored for Asian dishes. Why the label (and a beautiful label it is) Kung Fu Girl? Well, as wine master Mr. Smith states in his ad—“because Riesling and Girls kick ass!” He adds that “. . .the reason we love this wine actually has more to do with another aspect of Kung Fu: balance. This comes from a single vineyard comprised of fragmented basalt and caliche soils. Great acidity, minerality and girl-next-door kiss of sweetness.” I like that last part. Mainly because wife, Holly, loves Riesling—it’s the only wine she can take–essentially because she prefers sweet and semi-sweet wines. I, on the other hand, prefer dry wines (my favorite dry white being Pinot Grigio). But I do like a well balanced, juicy Riesling—which this one is reputed to be.

I guess it was only a matter of time before the martial arts would be paired up with wine ads. But I’m intrigued and happy that Mr. Smith picked the tag of Kung Fu. I don’t know whether Mr. Smith has ever dabbled in the art or not, but he is a legendary wine maker who, like most people on the cutting edge, pushes the envelope somewhat. Apparently he’s on a mission to bring Washington State Rieslings to the fore, and I wish him well. And from the raves I’ve seen on-line, he has succeeded. Cork’d gave the 2006 Kung Fu Girl Riesling an average rating of 89.0/100, which is pretty good. The reviewer from The Wine Cask Blog hailed it as “one of the best Rieslings I have had in years from any country including Germany!” High praise indeed. Gary Vaynerchuk featured the 2007 Kung Fu Girl Riesling, along with Charles Smith as guest, on his popular Wine Library TV, The Thunder Show Episode #549 (https://tv.winelibrary.Com/). Mr. Smith stated, among other things, that the mild climate and long growing season in Washington State produces this really exceptional wine. Mr. Vaynerchuk also gave it an 88/89 type rating.

The fact that, according to its followers, this wine pairs well with Asian cooking also peaked my interest. Chinese food has been one of the passions in my family since I can remember. From my boyhood on we would make that weekend trek to Chinatown and gorge ourselves on baby spare ribs, fry rice, lo-mein, steamed sea bass, egg rolls, all that good stuff. Of course then it was all mainly Cantonese cuisine with an American bent. Actually, it was American Chinese food. A secret: fried rice, egg foo young, chop suey and, yes, fortune cookies, are all American inventions. It wasn’t until later in my adulthood when Shechuan and Hunan restaurants started opening up in Chinatown that I really began to appreciate the variety and multiplicity of Chinese cuisine. Add to that, the Thai, Burmese, and Vietnamese places that followed so that today there’s a cornucopia of fine Asian cuisine in the city, not just the Cantonese fare of yesteryear.

In the old days, the only beverage served with Asian food was either tea, beer, or a wine called Wan Fu white that used to be sold in some Chinese restaurants. I remember Wan Fu. It was supposed to accompany what were then called “Oriental dishes.” Even then I considered it a bit sweet for my taste. It was only later on that I discovered that Wan Fu wasn’t Chinese at all. In fact, it was a semi-dry white Burgundy from France. Go figure. Further experimentation got me into the realm of drinking Gewurstraminer (Guh-verts-trah-mee-ner) with Asian dishes. This is a dry, spicy wine that can either hail from Germany (the Rheinpfalz area) or Alsace (which for a long time had been a disputed part of Germany until 1945 when it became French). I still like Gewuzstraminer with Asian food but, again, it’s all relative. Holly likes Riesling with everything. Back in my youth I once knew a lady who preferred Mogen David Heavy Malaga Red with every meal. Where wine is concerned, I believe, there should be no hard and fast rules. Every palette should decide for itself. But it’s good to know that now there’s another alternative to Asian food—Kung Fu Girl Riesling.

It’s the more amazing that Charles Smith has decided to stake his calling on the Riesling grape variety. A few years back, Riesling was the province of German and Alsatian vintners. In the last few decades this has changed with Riesling being cultivated in California, Australia, New Zealand and a host of other countries. In the U.S., California is no longer the only player. Oregon and Washington, among others, have gotten into the act.

I discovered Riesling in my young manhood; and the Rieslings I recalled from that time were different from what you get today. To my unformed palette, the Rieslings back then where perceptibly sweeter. Now, I’m talking about the 1960s and 70s. The wines were pale yellow in color, or yellow to golden yellow, fruity, and some even with a note of honey in them, and low alcohol content. This changed as wines with a dry finish became so increasingly popular that even German vintners began making dry wines. Still, from what I gather, most Washington Riesling is made in the traditional German style. That is, light and fruity, with high acidity to balance the sugar, but with a much higher alcohol content, sometimes over 13% alcohol. Austrian and Alsatian Rieslings are somewhat dryer. Some of them have almost no residual sugar. My preference is for the Austrian or Alsatian type. Still, that doesn’t mean a Washington Riesling can’t be great. We decided to give it the ultimate test and see how it would pair up with an Asian dish. In this case, Northern (Peking-Style) deep-fried bean curd, along with steamed chicken and white rice. The bean curd recipe is from my second cookbook, The Pharaoh’s Feast (Avalon Books). To make the steam chicken is easy enough: take one fryer chicken (about 2 1/2 to 3 pounds), washed and cut up in generous bite-sized pieces, place it in a bowl and rub it all over with olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt and pepper, and dried oregano. Let it stand for about 10 to 15 minutes. Then place in a wok, medium-sized skillet or pan. Fill about 1/3 full with water, bring it to a boil, cover and let simmer 25-30 minutes until pieces are tender. If you want to follow the more traditional Asian mode then use a mixture of 3 tablespoons soy sauce, 1 teaspoon sugar, 1 tablespoon cornstarch and 1 1/2 teaspoon sesame oil for the marinade. In either case, if you desire a more spicy dish, add 3 to 4 drops Tabasco or chili sauce to the mix.

I must say that in our informal tasting (Holly was the official Riesling judge), I was pleasantly surprised. To begin with, the wine came with a screw cap. There has been an issue of sorts in the wine world as of late concerning screw caps on wine bottles. Traditionalists state that this is heresy. The corked bottle is sacrosanct. Truth is that, to a wine maker, bottle caps are more efficient, less time consuming and less expensive than traditional corks. I have discovered that bottle caps on white wines ensure a longer storage time in the fridge. This is no scientific experiment; just my observation. Although there is a certain romance to maneuvering that corkscrew, pulling out the cork, and listening to that pop! As to the wine in question, it was soft, subtle, with plenty of aromas—peach, pear, lime— you name it. This fruit like aromatics was also noted on the Wine Library segment where Mr. Vaynerchuk declared the wine had a hint of sweetness and heavy on apple flavors. As to its marvelous color, Holly thought it looked like summer: bright and golden. She described it as early morning sun without the heat. And it had a cool taste, not overwhelming. Lightness is how she summed it up. her final allegory is “that there is something about it like spring. Something youthful.” This echoes what Charles Smith himself said on Wine Library TV. He also confirmed it was a melowy wine, floral, and reminiscent of spring flowers. So Holly wasn’t too off the mark. I found that it had good balance, not too sweet, not too dry, and not as intense as I expected. My experience with fine German Rieslings is that, to compensate for the sweetness, they have a lively acidity and their flavor is usually intense. Not with this one. It had a light, crisp finish that left a lingering aftertaste with just a little hint of dryness. All in all, a superb wine for spring or summer.

The one caveat I have is that the wine store where I purchased the bottle, in Manhattan, it was $19.95 retail. In the web sites I perused in Washington State the price ranged from $12.99 to $14. Cork’d blog gave the 2006 a retail price of $14.99. Gary Vaynerchuk gave it a retail range of $12-$13. In these trying economic times, one has to save wherever one can. But where good wine is concerned, it sure as hell is difficult to do that in New York State.

Finally, this all leaves me to consider that this wine thing could be the beginning of a new trend. If there’s Kung Fu wine, then why not Kung Fu beer? or gin? or whisky? Who knows, someday you might even have a Kung Fu laxative. the possibilities are endless.

NORTHERN (PEKING-STYLE) DEEP-FRIED BEAN CURD

1-pound container fresh bean curd, preferably extra firm, washed, patted dry and cut into 1/2-inch cubes

3 tablespoons cornstarch (more or less as needed)

Peanut or vegetable oil for deep frying

3 tablespoon soy sauce

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1 teaspoon chili sauce

1. Sprinkle the bean curd evenly with the cornstarch.
2. Heat the oil over high heat in a wok or deep skillet. Add the bean curd and fry until golden brown. Depending on the side of the wok or skillet, you may have to do this in batches. Remove the bean curd with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels.
3. Mix the soy sauce, sesame oil, and chili sauce.
4. There are two ways to serve the bean curd (or tofu as it is known in Japanese): either place the tofu in a bowl and drizzle the soy sauce mixture over it, then stir, making sure the bean curd is evenly coated with the sauce; or just use the sauce as dip separately. Either way, serve with white rice or noodles.
Yield: 4 servings

Cecilia and Juliana from invisible people.tv

April 21, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 0 Comments

Cecilia and Juliana from invisible people on Vimeo.
The invisiblepeople.tv site emailed me the post noted below. Its timeliness is that it addresses the question of the ever growing homeless population during these trying economic times. I’ll say no more. The post speaks for itself. To get more information on it and details relating to homelessness in general I suggest you check out their blog at https://invisiblepeople.tv/blog/

Forget everything you’ve ever thought about homeless.

It’s not always a guy with a cardboard sign begging for money. Not everyone has a shopping cart. It goes far beyond tent cities. The reality is that families are the fastest growing segment of the homeless population. The average homeless person is nine years old and in the third grade.
Meet Cecilia and her daughter Juliana, just one of many families without a home in America. I met them at the Prado Day Center in San Luis Obispo. Like most folks without a home, Cecilia never planned to be homeless. But for the past two years she has been living with her three year old daughter and nine year old son in a homeless shelter.

As a mom, Cecilia does her best to stay positive. But this doesn’t mean that raising a family without a home is easy. Each morning, Cecilia and her children must vacate the evening-only shelter. Her older son heads off to school. Cecilia and Juliana head to the day center, where they must wait to shower and spend the day. At 3 p.m. the day center closes, so they head to the park before returning to the evening shelter where they must two house in line to get a bed.

If this story effects you like it does me, please don’t let it end here. Forward it to a friend, blog about it, scream real loud – do something! Cecilia and Juliana are the new face of homelessness. And if you ask me, children should never be homeless.

Homelessness: The Plague Continues

April 14, 2009 / Oswald Rivera / 0 Comments

Thus far my postings have focused on two of my prime interests: cooking and martial arts. What I call my two avocations since I write cookbooks and have been involved in the martial arts for over 35 years. Well, today I’m going on a different tangent. No pithy comments or recipes.

Recently, I was referred to an on-line site, invisiblepeople.tv. I found the site fascinating. What invisiblepeople.tv does is give homelessness a name and a face. It chronicles what being homeless is like in America today. The reason it peaked my interest is that my second novel, The Proud and the Immortal (Polar Bear and Company) focuses on this very topic. When I began work on the book my concern was not homelessness as such. I just wanted to tell a stark and vivid story of individuals trying to survive in late 20th century America. The book tells the story of a community of homeless individuals who lived, for a time, in the abandoned Amtrak tunnels beneath New York City. They formed a society in microcosm with its own rules and by-laws. My aim was not to romanticize or categorize homelessness, but rather described how it was, living in the tunnels, and how they endured. They weren’t saints, nor angels, nor villains, just people trying to persevere like their counterparts who lived topside in the neighborhoods above the tunnels.

(photo credit: Diane Lemieux)

I encountered these people one summer long ago when I was strolling around Riverside Park on the West Side of Manhattan. I noticed there were two groups that stuck to their turf on the huge rotunda in the park. One group was younger, more boisterous, and they indulged in smoking crack openly. The other group was older and more reserved. From their appearance they seemed down and out, and obviously homeless, but the younger ones did not mess with them. It seemed these people had a structure. I struck up a conversation with one of them, and that’s when I discovered they lived in the tunnels. Eventually I gained their confidence enough so that they showed me where they lived. It was another world, almost like a parallel universe. And once you overcame the heat, and the smell, you realized that it was another home to them. For some, the only real home they ever had.

I hung out with them for about two months, visiting them when I could, and gathering enough information to form the basis of my novel. I came to realize that they, beyond the grueling surroundings, the uncertainties and constraints of living underground, harbored the same hopes and dreams as anyone else. They were just trying to get by, albeit in a squalid environment. Their stories fascinated me. And from it I weaved the characters that would eventually populate my novel. I consider it my best work.

The tunnels are long gone, but homelessness is not. Given the current financial crisis and long-lived recession, it probably has gotten worse. That’s no surprise. According to a U.S. Conference of Mayors report, hunger and homelessness are on the rise in the U.S., especially in our cities. The report revealed that, on average, cities reported a 12 percent increase in homelessness from 2007 to 2008, with 16 cities citing an increase in the number of homeless families. And, of course, poverty, unemployment and the lack of affordable housing are cited as the top three causes of homelessness and hunger in the surveyed cities.

Another report, this one by the National Center on Family Homelessness cited that 1 in 50 children in America are homeless each year. They summarize that, on a yearly basis, 1.5 million of our nation’s children go to sleep without a home.

I could go on forever summarizing statistics and numbers, but who the hell cares? They’re just that: numbers and statistics. It has been said that when one person dies, it’s a tragedy, but when hundreds die it’s a statistic. Nevertheless the plague is here and its coming home. We’ve got record foreclosures on homes, unemployment is heading toward double digits, and the economy is tanking. There are those who would never have dreamed of becoming homeless and are now facing it as a real possibility. It’s safe to say that a lot of us are just a paycheck away from being on the streets. That’s why I call homelessness a plague, a pestilence of epidemic proportions. Problem is, that for most of us, it’s the unseen plague. Oh, yes, you’ve seen them on the streets, the “bag people” as they were once called, the mentally unbalanced man or woman who can’t cope, the homeless veteran who left his brains back in the Mekong Delta or the Persian Gulf, or the average joe who just fell on hard times. What’s amazing is that this is not a new phenomenon. It’s been with us for quite a while. In 1547, the British parliament passed a law that subjected vagrants and vagabonds to two years of servitude and branding with a “V” as a penalty. After the American Civil War, a large number of men went on the road and formed that subculture known as “hobos.” At one time, when I was a young man, the Bowery in New York was synonymous with homeless men and women. Today it’s ringed with high-priced luxury condominiums. The Great Depression of the 1930’s caused a marked increase in poverty and homelessness. But modern homelessness as we know it, is something new and pervasive. To my mind, one of the major incentives was the infamous Community Mental Health Act of 1963. What happened was this: long term psychiatric patients were released from state hospitals and were supposed to be sent to community health treatment centers for follow-up treatment. It didn’t work out that way. The majority of community mental health centers were never funded. The released patients found themselves on the street. Add to that the lack of affordable housing, the reduction in SROs (single room occupancy) and you had an increasing number of jobless and impoverished adults, children and teenagers roaming the streets. Given these circumstances, some groups, like the “Mole People” I write about in my novel, literally went underground and formed their own mini-communities. And, I would guess, now even those communities are gone.

So, what to do? More learned minds than mine have tackled the question. And no clear solution has been given. Although the problem has found its advocates, as it should. There are venues out there that are addressing this problem even as we speak. One of the sites I discovered while researching for this post, is Change.org. It is one of the leading sites for social change; and among its causes and issues is how to end homelessness. They have featured posts on such topics as the roots of contemporary homelessness, things you should know about homelessness and actions you can take to end same. All well and good but, my friends, more is needed. According to the National Coalition for the Homeless, there are an estimated 3.5 million homeless people in the U.S. Imagine that, the strongest, richest country on the planet, and that’s what we show to the world. It’s obscene. It’s criminal. It’s not a question of the haves and have-nots, it’s a question of the haves and those who have nothing. As one who has lived on both sides of the equation, I can tell you from experience, it’s not easy promulgating the kind of change that is needed. We don’t care. If we are doing well (at least those of us who still are in this economy) to us the homeless are, by and large, the nameless few. We see them on the street and we just pass them by, we avert our eyes, or, if we respond, it’s with the usual epithet: “Go get a job, buddy!” Yeah, well try and get a good paying job in this economy—at least one that will put a home over your head when all you see around you are forced evictions and mortgage foreclosures. According to one of the posts I saw on-line, it’s official: LA is the capital of homelessness. How long before New York or Houston or San Francisco, or Duluth or Toledo join that list?

So the next time you pass some homeless, destitute person on the street, look into their face, and you will see all of us.

Author, Warrior, and Teacher