Hawleyblog

Happy Times, Part II

Man, it felt great to be on the winning side of a progressive issue for once. "Chalk one up for love and equality," I wrote on my Facebook wall Friday night, with a link to the New York Times story on the victory for gay marriage. I followed that up with "And Ruben Diaz Sr. and our cowardly president can eat my shorts!"

I'd gone off about Obama in a comment on Homer's blog earlier that day:

Obama held a fundraiser here in the city last night to rake in money from well-heeled LGBTers. He said he believes in equal rights for gay and lesbian couples, but he wouldn't dare say he was in favor of marriage. Just more bullshit about leaving it up to the states. "Under the leadership of Governor Cuomo, with the support of Democrats and Republicans, New York is doing exactly what a democracy is supposed to do," he said, according to a Daily Intel post on nymag.com. WTF? This is the best a "fierce advocate" of ours can do in front of a pack of queer bigwigs who are shelling out a lot of cash to get him re-elected? And the Republican leadership is not in fact doing what should happen in a democracy. They're delaying movement on the gay-marriage bill and may not allow it to come to a vote at all, while making noise about increasing protections for those who oppose marriage equality on religious grounds. Which brings me back to your point about religion being the root of the problem, Homer. "I believe that marriage is a union between a man and a woman. For me as a Christian, it is a sacred union. You know, God is in the mix." Presidential candidate Obama said that while speaking at asshat Rick Warren's church to curry favor with the mouth breathers WHO WOULD NEVER VOTE FOR HIM IN A MILLION YEARS. When our supposed heroes give ammo to the wingnuts, we have no choice but to tell them to fuck themselves. Republican politicians rush to endorse (or fail to repudiate) whatever crazy-ass nonsense their core voters believe (Obama was born outside the U.S., global warming is a myth, keep the government out of my Social Security), but our former-Consitutional-law-professor president had no problem endorsing the clearly un-Constitutional notion that religious beliefs trump civil rights in this country. And he still won't say what he ought to have the courage to say today, even with most polls showing a majority of Americans are now in favor of marriage equality. We have no real leaders in this country who stand up for basic American principles and values. Only cowards who yield to the haters at every turn.

Ruben Diaz is a bigoted, twice-married asshole who is worthy of all of the scorn heaped upon him. But how many of the LGBTers who rightfully denounce Diaz act like they have no choice but to vote to re-elect a man who, like Diaz, says that civil unions are sufficient for the queers (even though back in the mid-1990s, he said he was all for gay marriage)? And the White House's statement after Governor Cuomo signed marriage equality into law was just as tepid as the bullshit he served up at the fundraiser. And let's not forget where Mr. Hopey Changey went after he'd gotten what he wanted from teh gayz.

It's also sad and discouraging that the successful vote depended partly on well-timed bribes of Republican lawmakers from "libertarian" billionaires. As Max Read writes for Gawker at that second linked article, it's great that some of the billionaires had relatives or friends who are gay and so felt inclined to join this fight. But what about the poor people on Medicaid? Which billionaires are going to feel bad for them and come to their rescue?

And hello, NYT!? Carl Kruger is a closet case who changed his position only after he was outed as a result of his indictment on bribery charges. Why would you try to stuff him back in the closet in this article? "Some gay activists, assuming he was a lost cause, had taken to picketing outside his house and screaming that he was gay—an approach that seemed only to harden his opposition to their agenda." Right. How dare "some gay activists" treat a seated state senator like that? And at great peril to their cause, because all they've done is succeeded in HARDENING his ... opposition. To their AGENDA! The paper of record's selection of the word "agenda" seems designed to make homophobes happy, and that bullshit article has only helped to harden my continued opposition to paying for a NYT digital subscription.

***

On Sunday, I marched in the Pride Parade with a group of gay bloggers, like I did two years ago. LIke the last time, the difficult part was waiting around for our group to start moving. But it was fun to see some of my blogger friends who I don't see in person all that often. And all of the positive energy from the crowd lining the streets felt wonderful.

Tony stayed with the dogs while I was away. Poor Rudy got separation anxiety and seemed genuinely afraid that Tony was going to take him away from me for good when he walked him, first before I left to join up with the bloggers and then again later in the afternoon. Rudy didn't want to go very far from the apartment, and when he came back inside the second time, he looked around for me. My special basset guy still feels the pain of when he was abandoned by his previous human(s), and it breaks my heart.

Stacy and Hal came into the city for the parade. They had made plans to visit Bob and Jen in Brooklyn at around 4 or 4:30. Our group was scheduled to be at the very end because Tony A., the head of Queer New York and the guy who has signed us up to march the past two years, forgot to do it this year until after the official deadline, and the groups line up in the order in which they had registered. (A week ago Sunday, I sent him an e-mail asking whether we were going to be in the parade.) H&S wanted to hang out with me after the parade and before they left for Brooklyn, and I told them I didn't think we'd be at the end of the parade route by 4. And we weren't. We were supposed to step off at 1, but it was after 3:30. I did get to say hi to S&H on the street. Stacy took this photo of me that's now my profile pic on Facebook:

And I took this pic of S&H before giving them hugs and running off to catch up to my group:

Hal texted me a whole slew of pictures of the parade that he took with his iPhone, so I felt like I got to see a good deal of it. Thanks, Hal! :-)

Here's a pic of fellow QNY blogger Patrick (in the sleeveless shirt with the cool pattern) and his squeeze boy Bill G., whom I knew from the Sunday game group before they started going out. Sometimes it's a small gay world, even in the big city:

To the right of Patrick, in the fetching new blue hat and with his back to the camera, is Tony A.

Here are Stash and QNY blogger Jim, aka Mondschein, who told me I need to see this play:

And here's Jeff Kagan, whom I think half of the gay men in New York know. We went to college together (when, unfortunately, neither of us was out), and we need to get together in person again soon. He came around to confirm that all of the groups that were supposed to line up for the parade on 37th Street between 5th and Madison were present and in the correct order:

There was a group of Bradley Manning supporters a few spots in front of us bloggers in the parade. And I totally agree that he's a gay hero:

My favorite sticker of the day—and quite similar to my "Make (Illustration of Cupcakes) Not War" T-shirt—said "Make Out Not War." And my favorite T-shirt of the day said "Save a lollipop. Suck a dick." And on that classy note ...

Happy Times, Part I

Last Sunday, the Gerbers, Dad, Jean, Granny, and I went to Preakness Hills Country Club, as we often do, for Father's Day. Tony had already made plans to have dinner with a friend for Tony's birthday, which was on Tuesday, so he didn't make the trip to Jersey with me.

We had lunch outside at the Gerbers', and then David, Matt, Mike, and I cooled off in the pool. And, of course, I got in some quality time with Molly.

Then it was time to go out for dinner.

Granny wore the "BEST GRANNY EVER" sweatshirt I gave her two Christmases ago.

Dad, David, Mike, and Matt:

***

On Tuesday, I took Tony to dinner at Rosa Mexicana for his birthday. (He's now 43.) I gave him a cloth messenger bag for work that I asked him to pick out.

Toward the end of the meal, I bumped the table, which knocked Tony's water glass over into his entrée plate. He insisted he was done anyway.

***

Last night, Tony and I went to a fabulous Pride Picnic at our friend Mark M.'s apartment. I made a salad, with Citrus Vinaigrette on the side. The salad was quite beautiful, if I do say so myself. It had a base of mixed lettuces, with red amaranth, dark-pink radishes, red cherry tomatoes, sliced lemon cucumbers, and lavender-colored pea flowers placed on top.

Mark's apartment is so charming and comfortable, I want to make love to it.

Mark H., Hanif, Andy, and Zack were there, along with some familiar faces from Mark's Halloween party and some new peeps. Andy brought some delicious bar cookies he'd made using his great-aunt's recipe; they were blondies with chocolate, nuts, and graham crackers. We met Frank DeCaro and his partner, Jim. Tony and I talked to them about Frank's appearance in the Florent: Queen of the Meat Market documentary and about dogs; they have a Boston terrier. Frank is working on a cookbook with recipes from deceased celebrities that's due to come out in October. 

In my next post: the Pride Parade and a huge victory on marriage equality.

A Flower-Filled Current Affairs Post

Here are some current affairs items with photos of purty flowers—mostly cut ones I bought at the Greenmarket—in between to make the crazy shit that's going on easier to handle.

The DHS Has Stopped Investigating Domestic Terrorist Threats Because the Wingers Lost Their Shit Over that Report that the Bushies Had Started, but the Obama Administration Still Has the Resources to Go After the Socialist Hippies

I sent the following e-mail to Bob a couple of weeks ago ...

Obama's DHS stopped investigating domestic terrorist groups because of the big ruckus the right-wing noise machine made over the totally innocuous report the department had inherited from the previous administration. Something tells me it hasn't stopped infiltrating antiwar groups (Evil Quakers!) and checking on people who still believe in the rule of law, though. Biggest bunch of cowards ever. One term!

... with the following link: 

http://www.splcenter.org/get-informed/news/splc-urges-dhs-to-reassess-resources-after-key-analyst-reveals-unit-on-domestic-terror-was-scaled-back?ondntsrc=MBC110670DJE&newsletter=newsgen-20110608

Sure enough, a week later, he sent me this story:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/activists-cry-foul-over-fbi-probe/2011/06/09/AGPRskTH_story.html

Peonies and Alstroemeria, May 24

An Anti-Terrorist Group Within the Pentagon That Was Tracking Bin Laden Before 9/11 Was Told to Stop It

That inconvenient fact was left out of the 9/11 Report.

Sweet Williams, May 28

A CIA Officer Says the Bushies Wanted Him to Go After Anti-Iraq-War Blogger Juan Cole

Cole understands Arabic, so he was able to call bullshit on the warmongers' false claims, which most of the media couldn't have cared less about because they were too busy shouting "America! Fuck yeah!"

Sweet Peas, May 14

Ed Koch Is Shilling for the Developer That Wants to Give the West Village a Shitty Health Care Facility

He's "chairman" of an astroturf group that's a front for Rudin Management Co.

The Sheridan Square Viewing Garden, With a Magnolia in the Center, April 19

Tritium Has Leaked From Most U.S. Nuclear Plants, Usually Via Corroded Pipes

Some of those pipes are supposed to carry cooling water to the reactor in the event of an emergency. Last year, PSEG Nuclear, the operator of the nuclear plant in Lower Alloways Creek, in Salem County, New Jersey, not very far from where I grew up, discovered 680 feet of corroded underground pipe (though no leaked tritium-contaminated water in this instance). PSEG Nuclear hadn't visually inspected that critical section of pipe, which was supposed to have cooled unit 1 of the reactor, since it started up—in 1977.

A Japanese Maple on the Way to Union Square, April 30

Obama's Touted Withdrawal of Troops From Afghanistan Doesn't Even Get Us Back to Bush-Era Levels

It would take place over more than the course of a year and would still leave 65,000 of our men and women over there as of December 2012. Even though Osama bin Laden is dead. And was found in Pakistan, our very important ally in the War on Terror.

A Vase of Tulips in Front of a Vase of Dogwood, With a Lot of Clutter, April 30

Japan, Germany, South Africa, and France All Reverse Decisions or Slow Down on Nuclear Power and Fracking in LIght of Evidence of Their Harm

Not the U.S. The Obama administration is still "routinely waiving fire rule violations at nearly half the nation's 104 commercial reactors." EPA head Lisa Jackson has her head in the sand when it comes to fracking-contaminated water supplies, and six of the seven Obama appointees to a commission that investigated the safety of fracking had industry ties. 

A Flower Bed on 12th St., May 6

The Judicial Insider Trading of Clarence and Ginni Thomas

The silent Supreme Court justice must resign.

An Unusual Shrub on the High Line, Near Gansevoort Street, May 15

There's a Secret Interpretation of the Patriot Act That's Being Used to Do Secret Things Against Americans

So says Democratic Senator Ron Wyden. The ACLU is trying to get to the truth.

Another Photo From the High Line, May 15

How to Defeat the Corporate Elite

Bruce Levine at truthout offers a 10-step plan.

And Another

A "Family Values" Group That's Usually All About Getting Gays to Become Ex-Gays Is Arguing for Whore Frequenter David Vitter's Hypocritical (and Possibly Diapered) Ass to Step Down From the Senate in Light of the Fury Over Anthony Weiner's Sexting "Scandal"

If only the Dems cared enough to ... Ha! No point in even finishing that sentence.

Anemones, May 9

The Hancock 37. vs the Drones

These brave souls got arrested while protesting the MQ-9 killer drone operations run out of Hancock Field in Syracuse, New York.

Citrus-Scented Lilies, June 4

Obama's War on Whistle-Blowers Intensifies

From my man, must-read Salon columnist Glenn Greenwald

Calibrachoas, on the Gerbers' deck, June 19

Obama's War on Investigative Journalist Jim Risen

Also from Glenn Greenwald

Vanilla-Scented Lilies, at Tony's Apartment, June 18

And Finally, Obama's War on Environmental Activist Tim DeChristopher

The administration admits that the public land auction DeChristopher disrupted with fake bids during the Bush regime was illegal, but it still prosecuted him. And he now faces years in prison.

And Finally, Incredibly Circular, Peach-Colored Roses; Window of VSF (Very Special Flowers); June 22

A Food and Drinks Post With Mango Ice Cream and Scrambled Wild Turkey Eggs

I'm so depressed about the closing of zpizza in my hood. It's up and moved from Bleecker near 7th Avenue to the Lower East Side. It was my go-to place for a quick couple of slices. Plain, with whole-wheat crust. Delicious pizza with some fiber! And now it's gone. The people who worked there were friendly, and it was in a convenient location. And now I'm left with, what? Bleecker Street Pizza? The Food Network touts it as the best pizza in New York. Ha! I like its Nonna Maria slices, but it's regular cheese slices don't rise above the pedestrian. I may as well be eating at Quakerbridge Mall, in 1990.

***

I posted about making scrambled quail eggs a little while ago. Since then, I've tried two other varieties of unusual eggs—pheasant and wild turkey—from Quattro's Game Farm at the Union Square Greenmarket. The turkey eggs were my favorite. They're easier to handle and break open than the rather small pheasant and quail eggs, and they were the tastiest and fluffiest of the three. I enjoyed them with some steamed asparagus. Yummy.

*** 

When I talked to Dad a couple of Saturdays ago, he mentioned that he and Jean get the King Arthur Flour catalog. They get just about every catalog there is.

Dad likes to read the KAF one in the bathroom, which he said results in what he admitted was the odd sensation of salivating while he's taking care of business. Ew.

There are lots of gluten-free mixes in the catalog that he's tempted to buy to make for Tony. Or have Jean make for Tony. :-) Dad isn't much of a baker. He made oatmeal cookies from scratch once a while ago, but that's about it. Granny's brother Russ was a really good baker. And like my Pop Pop, he was a butcher for a living, only he worked at Acme while my Pop was an A&P guy.

Dad likes to eat raw oatmeal cookie dough, and he will sometimes eat a handful of oats as a snack. He also told me he remembered raiding his grandmother's refrigerator for the Fleischmann's yeast cakes. Ack!

Dad mentioned that King Arthur has a lemon bar mix and recalled that that was Pop's favorite cookie toward the end of his life. Jean made Pop some lemon bars not long before he died.

***

Before Sockerbit opened, I assumed it was going to be a Swedish bakery based on the slogan I saw on its under-construction storefront: "Sweet & Swedish." I pictured delicious cardamon-filled pastries and other baked goods. It turned out to be a candy store. A very cute candy store. But I'm still disappointed.

***

To follow up on the anniversary dinner at Union Square Cafe, we had a splendid meal, though not quite as exceptional as the one on my birthday last September. I got the roast chicken for my entree, and it wasn't terribly inspiring. I'd mainly gotten it for the sides: a buttermilk biscuit and greens with bacon. I was more excited by my appetizer: Spring Vegetable and Farrow Minestra, a hearty minestrone-style soup with lots of fresh peas. I could really have gone for a second bowl of that. I also very much enjoyed the small plate of French-fried duck—which was safe for Tony to eat—the kitchen sent out as a special surprise. Tony and I shared a bottle of Pinot Blanc, and he got sautéed spinach to start and a cod dish for his main course. For dessert, I got Coconut Tapioca Pudding With Tropical Fruit and Passionfruit Sorbet. "Don't force yourself to finish," Tony teased me as I gulped it down.

***

A week ago Friday, on a day off, I had lunch at BLT Burger. I got a Classic, cooked medium, with grilled red peppers, ketchup, and the standard red onion, pickle and lettuce, and an order of French fries. The burger was good, and the fries were better. They had some kind of coating on them to make them extra crispy.

And speaking of burgers and fries, before Tony and I went to see Lucky Guy, I made us turkey burgers with ground breast meat from Di Paola Turkey Farms and oven fries. I'd gotten the turkey the day before at the Union Square Greenmarket, and on Saturday, I confirmed with the gal at the DTF stand at the closer-to-my-home Abingdon Square Greenmarket, who had waited on me the day before, that the only ingredient was indeed ground turkey breast. (The brine used in whole supermarket turkeys may contain gluten.) She was sweet. I was getting a lesbian beep on my gaydar from her, and she had asked me on Friday whether my shirt (the one I'm wearing in this photo) was vintage. I knew she wouldn't tell me the turkey was safe for Tony if it wasn't.

Because the burgers were made from all-white meat, I added a little water to the pan toward the end of the frying process so they wouldn't be as dry as Joan Rivers's lady parts. Ha! And ew. I used lot of fresh tarragon (it's a favorite herb of Tony's and mine) and a little bit of thyme in the burgers and fresh chives on the fries. And I made a salad of mixed lettuces and French Breakfast radishes.

***

Several weeks ago, after I made the coffee ice cream I mentioned in my previous all-food-and-drinks post and in the post I linked to above at the reference to Lucky Guy, I made Mango Ice Cream for the first time. Since they've become widely available again at sidewalk fresh-fruit stands, my near obsession with mangoes has returned. I'll sometimes eat four a day: two at breakfast and two after lunch or as an afternoon snack.

I was mildly disappointed in the ice cream because the mango didn't come through quite as much as I had hoped. It was still tasty—and some of the guys at the Game Party couldn't get enough of it—but it didn't pop like I wanted it to.

This Martha Stewart recipe, which is in The Martha Stewart Living Cookbook on my bookshelf, calls for dried mango rejuvenated with rum, in addition to fresh mango. I didn't want bits of rummy mango in my ice cream, but the recipe got me thinking about pumping up the mango flavor somehow. I considered using some bottled mango puree but I dismissed the idea. I'm glad I did, so I could see what the ice cream was like with only the fruit, but I may use the puree next time. In all, I used 4 cups of very ripe mango slices, liquefied in the blender; a heaping half cup of sugar; 1/4 cup of brown rice syrup; 3 egg yolks; and a pint of half and half.

***

And while I"m on the topic of frozen treats, I tried two flavors of soft-serve ice cream made from goat's milk at just-opened Victory Garden last Tuesday. The coffee didn't thrill me, but I enjoyed the chocolate. It's clear that VG is still working some things out. There were no cones or frozen yogurt selections. I'll go back to try some more varieties and to admire the goat photos that took me back to my life on the farm.

***

Joyce, who had initiated my visit to Victory Garden by sending me an e-mail with a link to a story about it, brought me some Hillbilly Spearmint back from her mother's house in Kent, Ohio, after a Memorial Day trip. I made some refreshing tea with it.

***

I was initially bummed out when Le Pain Quotidien replaced its stalwart Carrot Muffin with a Chia Seed Muffin, but now I'm hooked on the buggers. They're surprisingly good. And good for you; I'll let forever green girl tell you all about the health benefits of the seeds. When I asked the manager at my local LPQ whether the chia seeds were the same thing as you plant on your Chia Pet, he said, "I knew you would ask that." Of course I would, dude, because I've got no other context for the word chia.

***

And finally, aren't these dried chive flowers purty?

Memorial Day Weekend 2011, Part II

On Saturday, I'd gotten some Kentucky Colonel Spearmint from Keith's Farm to make Spearmint Stracciatella Ice Cream. Because I was eager to see how my spearmint-flavored ice cream tasted with the tiny chocolate bits in it. I'd been getting worried that Keith had abandoned the Union Square Greenmarket or, worse, had stopped farming altogether, because it seemed like every other farmstand had started coming to the USG after the winter lull except for him. So I was thrilled on that Friday when I saw on Lucy's Greenmarket Report that "KEITH WILL BE HERE TOMORROW!!" Lucy is apparently as big of a fan of Keith's produce as I am.

On Sunday morning, I got up before 7—like 6:45!—to start making the ice cream. I wanted it to be frozen enough so my friends Desirée and Bob and the guys at the Game Party could try it later that day. D&B were coming into the city from Jersey to have lunch with Tony and me—and to try my latest flavors of ice cream.

We ate at Gobo, a vegan restaurant that's Tony's go-to place for takeout and the location for delicious in-house meals with Lou and with Stacy and Hal. Gobo never disappoints. The food is always well-prepared and fresh tasting as can be, and we've never gotten bad service. Bob and Desirée are always game to try something new. Along with their main entrees, they shared some of the Beijing-style smoked seitan, which is "meat" made of wheat. AKA poison for Mr. Tony. :-) It looked like a grilled sausage. I wasn't in the mood for trying something new, so I didn't have a bite. B&D liked it.

Tony went to the office, and the rest of us headed back to my place. Because Bob is very allergic to dogs, Desirée and I carried the ice cream outside to eat, like we did last summer. I had them try the Peppermint Stracciatella first and then the Spearmint Stracciatella. I never thought I'd like any mint flavor better than the black peppermint but the Kentucky Colonel spearmint is mindblowingly delicious. Desirée liked the spearmint better than the peppermint too. Bob raved about them both. They were both going to stop there, but I insisted D at least try a spoonful of the coffee. She enjoyed that too.

I made a double batch of the spearmint, and I took a container of it to the Game Party. It was a big hit. *takes a small bow*

***

That morning, I had taken Emme to a groomer to get her hair cut really short for the summer. Things didn't start out well. This groomer works out of a petshop a few blocks up Hudson from Charles. The store doesn't open until 11 on Sundays, so the groomer said she would look for me outside the door at the appointed time of 9:30.

She or her assistant did see us, and they let us in right away. But she said she thought I was coming in at 11. And she was expecting a different kind of dog. I told her we'd agreed on 9:30 and I reminded her that she'd given me the instructions to wait at the door because my appointment was for a time before the store opened. We went into the grooming area at the back of the store, and she told me my vet's office had faxed over the rabies certificate, which was strange because I hadn't asked them to. There's a new law in the city that groomers have to see proof of rabies vaccination before they can begin working on a dog. I actually found the certificate given to me by my old vets in Park Slope so I didn't need them to fax it. At this point, the groomer finally realized she was confusing me with someone else who was indeed coming in at 11. She told me to come back in about an hour and a half to pick up the girl.

When we'd talked on the phone, the groomer had asked me how Emme feels about getting her hair cut, something like that. I was being dippy and interpreted that to mean, Did Emme like having short hair? I said she seemed much more comfortable last summer after she got her hair cut short at the insistence of my vet. The groomer then said she meant, Does she mind the process of getting her hair cut? And I assured her Emme wouldn't be any problem.

And Emme wasn't. She was an angel, and the groomer told me as much when I went to claim her. I paid at the register and included a tip before I saw what Emme looked like. The hair on her body was as short as I wanted it, but there was an abrupt transition to the longer hair on her head and there were some longer strands here and there that I was going to have to trim.

The woman who groomed Emme last year worked out of a froufrou dog clothing and accessories store on Hudson, a short distance south of Charles. When I saw that the store was going out of business a while ago, I should have gone in to see whether the groomer would be working out of a new place or her home or whatever. But I didn't. And I couldn't find her online.

I put this picture of Emme on Facebook with the caption "Emme got groomed today, and she's cuter than a box full of kittens":

***

On Monday, I took it pretty easy.

***

On Tuesday evening, Tony and I caught The Normal Heart with Lou and Eugene after a fine dinner at gluten-free-friendly Nizza, a place Tony picked out and where, coincidentally, Eugene and I had eaten after going to a play last year. I can't recall for sure, but I think it was after In the Next Room.

We all found TNH to be incredibly powerful. Outside the theater, two guys were handing out a letter from Larry Kramer, the firebrand author of the play and the co-founder of Gay Men's Health Crisis (as depicted in the play) and ACT UP. Lou knows/knew some of the people depicted in TNH, including Kramer and Paul Popham, and he told us some harrowing stories from that time. Tony said he was happy to see a broad range of people in the audience: younger as well as older gay men and people who looked like straight tourists from the Midwest. Here's a photo of the letter. Click on it to enlarge it.

Memorial Day Weekend 2011, Part I

The nephews are so busy with going to bar/bat mitzvahs and first communions and other such things that there wasn't a full weekend in May when they could come to visit. So in lieu of a proper, action-packed, two-day visit with Uncle Bill, Tracey, Tony, the guys, and I started off Memorial Day weekend by eating out last Friday night at L'Artusi.

Matt and Mike ate all of their pasta dishes, which were pretty adventurous choices: Matt's had ramps, chiles, and radicchio, and Mike's came with pancetta and pecorino cheese. Mike's had a tomato-based sauce, but Matt's didn't. They didn't get anything for their first course, though they tried and enjoyed the things the rest of us got. I ordered the Butter Lettuce Salad that Lou had gotten last time, only with the gorgonzola left off. Tony got a side dish of chile-spiced and minted sugar snap peas cooked in olive oil instead of butter; they were mighty tasty. And Tracey got a delicious farrotto that had some asparagus and, I believe, parmesan in it. The dinner menu on the website isn't up-to-date; the farrotto in the list of contorni on the website has butternut squash and parmesan in it. And it's spelled with one r, which I think is wrong. And I think the waiter was wrong when he told us that the farrotto was made from barley; it's more likely that it was made from farro. Otherwise, why call it farrotto, right?

Tony was disappointed in his entree: The Branzino was well cooked, but it was plated on a huge pile of olives and pieces of lemon peel with the white pith intact. My Sug Boy enjoys olives, but they overwhelmed the fish, and the lemon didn't contribute anything but bitterness. I got the Tagliatelle with Bolognese Blanco, which—I'm reminded by my linked post in the first paragraph—I also had when Tony, Lou and I went there. Tracey got the Hanger Steak, which she ordered medium well but turned out to be well done. It came with Crispy Potatoes; I totally fell down on the job and didn't snag even one to try.

Tracey had a glass of red, and Tony, a glass of rosé. I don't recall the labels, and the wine list isn't updated either. If it were, I'd be able to figure out which ones they were. Anyhow, I got a L'Artusi Gimlet, which consists of gin, St-Germain, and lime juice. I had intended to get a glass of wine with my dinner, but the service was inattentive on this visit and no one followed up with us except for once, right after our entrees were dropped off. There was a big party at a long table in the back of the second floor, in front of the wine vault, and the waitstaff seemed distracted by that group.

I tried re-creating the gimlets for Tony and me Saturday night. I need to work on the formula; they were too limey.

So all in all, it wasn't a terrific meal out, but it was fun to see the boys enjoy the food so much. And I still want to take Dad there sometime.

We didn't get dessert at the restaurant because I had homemade Peppermint Stracciatella Ice Cream at home. When I made it the previous weekend, with black peppermint from Berried Treasures, I got the bright idea to incorporate the shavings from a grated bar of dark chocolate to replicate the experience of (but not the same technique used for) stracciatella gelato instead of the usual chocolate chips. It was awesome. And the boys agreed.

Before I dipped up the mint ice cream, Tracey tried to bust my chops about never having gotten to try my Coffee Ice Cream even though I've been making it for years. But I told her I still had some left from the batch I made a little while ago, so she would finally get her chance after all. She enjoyed the mint but she liked the coffee even better and said it was the best coffee ice cream she'd ever had. Woot! Up yours, Breyer's! :-)

Before dinner, the Gerbers and I had walked around the neighborhood a little bit. We stopped at Milk & Cookies, an adorable little bakery over on Commerce Street just off 7th Avenue that I had stumbled across the weekend before. Tracey and the boys went inside and got us some sweets to have for later while Rudy and I waited outside. Then I took a photo of everyone on the bench in front of the store window.

***

After the Gerbers left to go back to Jersey, Tony and I stopped at Sea Grape for a bottle of chilled riesling. After hanging out on his deck for a while, we retired to the living room so he could teach me how to play backgammon. Tony plays the game online with an old friend of his, and I thought it would be fun to get a backgammon set for us. I ordered it from a vintage products store in Albuquerque, New Mexico, called The Two Sparrows, via Etsy. I liked the boids on the board.

We didn't use the doubling cube in the game and so weren't worried about the stakes or keeping track of points. The boy got a crazy number of doubles in the first match, which he won, but not too handily. He also won the second match, but I came back in the third to avoid a total shutout.

***

On Saturday morning, I went to the South Street Seaport TKTS booth to get half-price tickets to that evening's performance of Lucky Guy, the off-Broadway musical that was closing that Sunday. I had meant to catch Leslie Jordan in My Trip Down the Pink Carpet last year but never got off my ass and got tix, so when my buddy Zach posted this show's closing notice on Facebook, I was determined to act fast and not miss out on this show, which co-starred LJ as used-car salesman Big Al Wright, who schemes with a country singer played by Varla Jean Merman to steal a potential hit song from a handsome yokel played by Kyle Dean Massey.

I'm so glad Tony and I got to see this show. It was a big gay musical ball of happiness. The three leads were all fantastic; I had no idea VJM was such a terrific singer.

There was a funny unscripted moment when KDM—as Billy Ray Jackson—changed shirts onstage, and a queen in the front row audibly gasped at the sight of his bare chiseled torso. He and VJM broke up, and she warned the guy in the audience that KDM was all hers.

The show had terrific sets and costumes. VJM's character, Jeannie Jeannine, lives in a huge, opulently appointed double wide—to prove to her fans that she hasn't lost touch with her trailer-park roots. The living room set featured tall columns that looked like champagne flutes with bubbles in them. And Big Al kept surprising the other characters by popping out of tiny doors in unusual locations.

I'm so sad LG ended after such a short run: 23 previews and 14 performances. One consolation is that an original cast recording has been promised.