While We're At It

There may have been more coins on the plate had he

been seated farther from the kitchen.  Or the air

conditioning vent..........

2/29/2012

Wait....What?

Why do I have Budweisers and Hot Dogs in my hands rather

than Po' Boys and Turbo Dogs?

I.M.II

Two years ago, my first ever post proclaimed this machine to be

"MVP of Winter 2010".  2011 saw record use.  The last time this 

snow-blower was running was in November, when I wheeled it 

out of my shed and into the garage and parked it, facing out, ready 

to plow my way out and down the driveway at the first sign of 

snowfall. The tank is full, just as it has been ever since the patio 

furniture took its place in the shed.  The only snow we were 

around for this winter was easily shoveled by hand in a half hour.  

I don't want to jinx myself, but that furniture is coming out soon.

These daffodils have been pushing through since early January,

and this week I'm going to throw some grass seed on all the tire

marks on the side of my curved driveway.  What did that dang

Punxsutawney Phil say a couple weeks ago?

The Connection Between Food and Sailing

A highly esteemed sail-blogger recently asked,

and I'm paraphrasing it, 'Is there a connection

between food and sailing?'  I say yes.  Well

then how, you ask?  It all began in the city of 

Brotherly Love.  My earliest restaurant memories

were most likely from this place, Kelly's on Mole

Street.  No, it wasn't a Mexican restaurant, but an

old-fashioned oyster house.  My parents would 

bring me and my brother downtown during the 

holidays to have lunch and see the Christmas show.

I don't recall if it was lunch and then the show, or

the other way around.  It doesn't matter.  I

have a very selective memory of both events.  I'd have 

Snapper soup.  I'm sure my parents had the same, but

there were all kinds of other items on the menu, 

including oysters, of which both of them were fond.

I loved the soup, and I remember it being maroon in

color, with chewy pieces of turtle in it.  My Dad always

got the additional sherry to pour into it, and a few years

later, I adopted that habit and opted for the sherry to

add to any given dish with which it was offered.  There

was a huge glass jar with a lid that held fist-sized oyster 

crackers.  That I clearly remember.  When we left and 

went outside, I remember racks of clothes on hangers,

rolling on wheels, being pushed by men rushing around 

like they had to be somewhere quickly.  Garment type

district?  Then as I remember, it was off to Wanamaker's,

where the Christmas (not holiday) show was to be.

My brother and I would climb all over the pedestal,

trying to get up on the eagle.  The Christmas show

was an afterthought.  Apparently they had a great

pipe organ and played grand tunes which my old man

would sing and whistle all the way home and for days

afterward.  Whatever.  I wanted to ride the Wanamaker

Eagle.  This story is going somewhere.  Promise. 

Without getting too informative, John Wanamaker was 

an extremely successful department store magnate.

His son, Rodman, singly inherited his Father's entire

fortune.  Somehow or another, he got to liking sailing.

In turn, a race and trophy managed to be named after

him down Barnegat Bay, although I couldn't find the 

connection after 15 or 20 minutes on the Google, which

means there most likely isn't one.  But the race committee

liked the name, and the trophy is still competed for.

(My Mom told me never to end a sentence in a preposition)

Shit, I did it again.

Look at this crowd!  And we wonder why people think we're

snobs when we say we're sailors!

The Rodman Wanamaker trophy in the lobby? of the

Seaside Park Yacht Club. I don't think it's snobby, 

but that's because I've been around the sweaty crewmembers

of the A-Cats after the races, and heard them curse, 

and seen them pop open the cold PBRs from their 

styrofoam coolers in the trunks of their Ford Pintos,

moments away from exploding in rear-impact collisions.

Where was I?

Oh yeah.  Here's an A-Cat, racing on the Wanamaker course,

south of the Seaside Bridge on the Barnegat Bay.  Philadelphia

oyster house to sailing on Barnegat Bay.  That's the food-to-

sailing connection.  Hey, are you sleeping?

More Penguin Guano

Eye Heart My Wife

And I cooked some of her absolute most favorite food.  We typically

don't go out for dinner on Valentine's Day.  It stems from my having

to work that night for the past 30+ years.  I swore if I ever was off,

we'd spend the night at home, and I'd spend half the money and make

something twice as good.  Seared sea scallops with asparagus,

leeks, and fingerling potatoes enveloped in cream, dill, and lemon.

I did some sesame-crusted seared tuna, sliced and served with 

wasabi and soy to start.  Oh, and a scoop of Guacamole on the 

side.  The tuna could've been a little more rare, but it was super 

fresh and tender so no big deal. There's tuna leftover for my 

wife's lunch tomorrow, as well as scallops and the vegetable 

melange. Co-workers will be craning over to inquire.

2/11/12

My birthday weekend in Vermont, not unlike dozens

in the past.  At this point, Liv is well familiar with

Grampa's antics and if you could see her eyes, they'd

be looking away as to say, 'you're embarrassing me,

Grampa'.  He's been patrolling at Stratton since the mid-

sixties, and still sees it as a privilege to provide his 

EMT and skiing expertise most winter weekends so 

that the tens of thousands of skiers who visit here every

winter can ski, knowing that he and his fellow ski patrolmen

are there for them in times of need.    

Saturday evening I participated in a charity event, the 

Stratton Foundation's  'Taste of Vermont', held at Stratton 

Mountain's Base Lodge on Saturday night.  I entered as an amateur 

chef, of whom there were 20, and we were to be judged on the taste

and merits of our dishes. I chose two items to serve with which I 

was very comfortable:  Gravlax and Knob Salad.  

They were to open the floodgates at 7:00 p.m., but at 6:45 the 

masses started to appear, and I was in full swing plating dishes

whether I was ready or not. My volunteer assistant Claudia stood by 

my side and helped stem the tide by spooning Knob salad on those

 plates to start the presentation. I couldn't have done it alone. The 

sweat started to bead on my brow, and I turned away several times 

to blot it and keep it from dripping on my already cured Salmon. Not 

something you want the customer to see.  Things didn't slow down 

until about 8:15, which was good because the Gravlax was just about 

gone.  I had a ton of  feedback and lots of genuinely nice 

compliments, and after so many years of not having done something 

quite like this it was really refreshing and a great 

re-introduction to the food show scene.  

Evidently, the presiding highly acclaimed chef/judge, Suvir Saran,

liked the Gravlax enough to honor me with one of the top 

five spots.   I thank him for the opportunity to showcase food 

that's near and dear to me. The anticipation leading up to the 

judging was a little nerve-wracking, but regardless of the 

outcome, it was fun as hell and something I plan on doing for 

years to come.  And ultimately, it was all for a good cause. 

What a great way to wind up my birthday. 

Time To Sail

After being behind most of the regatta, like 7 

other regattas this season , Eli and Ahmad 

sailing hull #9, cross the bow of Tom and Wes's

 red #3 boat.  Right before the finish, Bradshaw's

hiking strap unexpectedly loosened and he slid

 halfway into the water, causing their boat to slow.  

Luckily, their momentum carried them across in first.  

In the final race, Brady and Welker were trailing 

Manning on the last leg when they decided to take a 

flyer to the right side of the course.  A Hail Mary of 

sorts, but to no avail. Giselle was heard after the 

regatta responding to a heckling crowd at the trophy

 presentation and saying bitterly, "Tom can't steer 

the f****n boat and crew at the same time!"

Foot Ball

I know it's just a game, but it's my game.  And if watching 

something as silly as large men running around holding a 

pointy-ended ball and knocking each other down 

play after play makes someone happy, then that person

should watch. Beside sailing, this pastime simply makes

me happy.  And being happy is good.  Even when we lose,

I still am happy having had the opportunity to watch my team.

When we win, it's gravy.  And if we win it all, icing on the cake.  

Header Photo

To answer a couple questions:  L to R, Baydog, 

cousins Cahil and Adam, and brother Hans.  

The boat we're sitting on is not anywhere near as

classic as a Sneakbox. 

It was a Scorpion, a Sunfish knockoff that my 

Uncle Gordy rented for that summer.

The Penguin behind us on the dolly was Dad's

'Vapor', 5158.  I'm not sure if it was Beaton-

built, or Wright-built out of Philadelphia.  This 

photo was taken from the dock at 829.  If

you look closely, you can see Metedeconk

River Yacht Club just off the bottom batten.

Now Wassail, 8839, was a Beaton that my Dad

had built for him.  I put in a good amount of time

on this boat until I got too big to be Dad's crew.

As lately as 2010, 8839 was being sailed on the Severn River.

Man would I love to buy her back some day!

Doug

I love this guy like a brother.  He was on the way home tonight 

from Long Island where he got his transmission fixed.

He lives in Virginia.  But he knew somebody who in turn knows

somebody who could do it for cheap.  And I convinced him to stop

and have dinner on his way home.  He's staying over because it 

would not benefit him to sit behind the wheel at this point.  I tried 

that when I was 19 and it didn't work out too well.  

So happy to have you, man. 

Tactician

"They're kinda close-hauled to be trying to

set that spinnaker, no?"  That may have been

the last instance in which I wore a life jacket.

And take a look at that thing!