Portlandia

Tim picked me up from the airport in the famous Portland subaru hatchback.  We drove to Burgerville. Tim, my older brother and his wife Sandi and Lucy moved to Portland 2 yrs ago after Lucy was born. Part of Tims lovability-you warm up to him fast- would lay in the fact that the man not only loves doing it but is the perfect unpretentious guide for a town like Portland.  He's got that personable restaurant manager and occasional stoner kinda draw.  Before I arrived he'd been talking up this place 'Burgerville-think McDonald's except instead of regular paper packaging, all biodegradable paper from recycled materials.' mixed greens w/ local smoked salmon and Oregon Hazelnuts-they grow like mad out here. And no MickyD's soy/mealworm patty either. Instead the beef's all Oregon grown, veggie fed, antibiotic and hormone free. No egg Mcmuffin; instead, an open-face poached [cage free] egg with poblano pepper and hollandaise. Even an entire menu of veggie burgers. Their mission: 'Serve With Love'. Sure anybody could slap that motto on. We're so surrounded by clever food marketing today anyway where 'serve with love' could mean anything short of 'I'm lovin it', 'Youre way, Right away!

Tim: nowadays people are afraid to ask for it 'THEIR WAY'. maybe the grill boy'll spit in it, who knows WHAT their gonna do to your food'

And I agree. Pulling out of the drive-thru, taking my first bite into the double burger, It tasted like something better than expected. I tasted every ingredient separately. It didn't blow my mind like an 'In-and-Out' burger [monster style or no] but it was damn close and I realized for the first time I was eating what I wanted [and satisfied] but more important knowing the impact this small meal was doing for the Portland region was part of what made it good. As hokey as that sounds. The produce was from my backyard, not South America [No cheap labor and fuel costs].  I was eating for taste but also eating with my brain. Its no surprise that a place like Burgerville has sprouted up here. Portland is like the starter kit any city would die for. The only metropolitan city I know that encourages new and local talent and discourages big business. And no new traffic lanes either. The city is bent on focusing on biking and public transportation as opposed to driving so they make it difficult on purpose. Its also the microbrewery and microdistillary capital.  And COFFEE. Most folks would agree. Portland's taken the crown from Seattle as the emerging coffee town with spots like Stumptown and the new wave of trendy coffee spots around. As if it couldnt get better it's the strip-club capital. more strip-clubs per capita here that any other American city. And I think Churches [one of its few downfalls] but I could be wrong. From what Ive seen so far, if there was a utopian American city of the future, Portland to me would be that special place.

On the way home, Tim and I were both thinking Chili. But what kind? Cooks Illustrated's latest issue just came up with a pretty scientific recipe for the best chili. The Original Steer meat market was our first stop. I had the butcher cut me 3 lbs of good marble chuck eye roast. Then past Multonmah Falls for a quick round of disc golf. The waterfalls [there are a ton around here] are heavy this time of year as the rain builds so you get a pretty sick view...I needed snow boots and a good jacket so we went to Next Adventure and Oregon Mountain Community. simply put...just outdoor and sports paradise. And Tim mentioned '50 Plates', where he works so we stopped in for dinner with a few castmates on our 'snow day'. 'Hair cast stranded in NYC-show canceled  ' read the news report as we sat down for Chili...even though Kit, our company manager, asked that we not tweet or facebook any of this. Too late now:)

something about Christmastime

Car Radio: 'we're all as one tonight/ makes no difference if you're black or white/cause we can sing together in perfect harmony'
Mom: ' there's something about Christmastime'
Me: 'something about Christmastime'
Mom: I wish every day was Christmas Nick
Me: 'You said it Mom. Then all the children of the world would hold hands and sing together in perfect harmony.'
Mom: 'And every store would be closed' [and on 94 headed to Chicago today, desperately searching for one place to eat, they were indeed all closed. Does the world really shut down for one day?]

 After enough verses of Bryan Adams 80's cheese blaring over an already choppy Chicago FM radio, I had to put my foot down. Classical Pandora Christmas is one thing. I can listen to that. I like that actually. Its perfect background to the fire going, the post present frenzy, baking cookies, whatever. But when the pop and country music worlds both really decided to fully adopt Christmas music, anywhere from the 80's on, I think we all regretted it a little when it really set in. like after we invented the atom bomb and THEN saw what its effects.  It reminded me of what Milan Kundera describes at the start of 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being', the idea of eternal reccurence. of all things in existence recurring over and over for all eternity in a constant circle of hurt and pain and weight. And now we're stuck in it thanks to Hallmark or whatever jackass thought this would be a good idea. And I think its fair to use music as a representative of all things Holidays. Jews, Muslims, sorry guys. You're excluded here.

For the first time ever I spent Christmas without my California family and helped out my Michigan mom. Mom couldve come out to see the 2 new babies but decided it best to stay and watch after Grandma Pisegna at the Lakeland Community nursing home. Iris, my moms girlfriend, went to Chicago to be with HER family. I don't think Mom or I regretted not going to Cali one bit.  For whatever reason it was a nontaditional Christmas and we loved every second. We made a fire in the fire pit and it snowed and we dined on my slow cooked babyback ribs, cornbread pudding, and baked beans. We pulled off the blue painters tape lining the walls and made a mini blue painters tape Christmas tree. and mom said 'hang on' and ran to decorate it with the leftover Christmas lights. We looked around the freshly painted house, and then to our blue tape Christmas trophy, and then to eachother in complete satisfcation of a job well done. And thankful. We mustve have been the only people painting walls while the rest of the Christian world was dressing figgy pudding and buying and spending and listening to Bryan Adams.

slow cooked babyback ribs
the secret: low and slow in the oven. no grills. like the mantra, tough cuts of meat like this, cooked under low indirect heat for hours, loose their connective tissue easiest....and the result...that fall-off-the-bone sticky goodness we all crave. This is for 1 full rack. Heres how:

preheat oven to 200 F
find a good quality cajun dry rub. Otherwise If you want to throw the rub together yourself, toss the following spices together in a small bowl: 1 tsp each of smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cinnamon, cumin, dry mustard, chili powder, cayenne, 1 TBSP each of sea salt, & 3 TBSP  brown sugar. [as an extra step-you can skip this-I like to warm them up on a skillet on low heat for 5 minutes to wake up the spices]. wash and pat dry your rack. Now pour the dry mix entirely over the rack and rub it in squeezing it with both hands. Dont try and be neat about it. Take a 2 ft sheet of aluminum foil and lay the rib down backside up and make an envelope out if it, pinching and tucking in both ends. place on a baking sheet backside up, toss in the oven and cook for 6-7 hours at 200 F. pull it out. be careful as you open the packets and drain the fat. brush your favorite BBQ sauce over the ribs, plate it, and bobs your uncle!

Old school pork chops with sage, apples and crackling

Moms been working hard so tonight I made her supper. Roasted pork chops with sage and apples and crackling. The rest of the Beltons are having Christmas in LA and Oregon this year with the 3 new babies, Teigen and Ella and Nyah, and mom couldn't make it out so I'm keeping her company in Michigan...and using her for her hot tub. There's nothing like soaking in 110 degrees and snow falling on your head. One thing about the Belton's; we could be broke as a joke and still own a hot tub.

In between steaming and stripping the wallpaper and painting these walls for the first time since this house was built sometime in the 50's, some good old school wintery grub is just the thing to make up for the toxic fumes we've been breathing in the past 2 days. Like any household item we take for granted; soaps, dyes, softeners, etc., I really hope the wallpaper makers of today are taking into consideration the toxins coming from this shit. Its no joke and thanks to google the information is just a click away if your interested. Ps-Brett Favre I know you've had a great career but either this is the work of a really good publicist or we're too fuckin bored to have any other interest. Either way, if the Bears winning the tonight was really overshadowed by a dirty text msg or yet another claim that this is your last game and not about a stellar win by the Bears [and it was], I might have to slit my wrist.

Anyway back to the piggy! Easy peasy. A nice wintery surprise for your mate. It feeds 2. this is my spin on some classic pork pub grub. From your butcher or Whole foods, get 2 good-quality pork chops, a little under an inch thick, skin and fat on. heat the oven to 400. carefully trim the skin and fat from each chop and set aside. rub the chops with olive oil and press in about 3-4 sage leaves on each side. Season both sides well with pepper and sea salt [I use 'Maldon' salt which is dried on paper and crumbles brilliantly in your fingers over anything. you can find this at any Whole Foods or cooking store]. Heat a wide ovenproof skillet on med-high and add the strips of skin, skin-side-down, and place a heavy pot on top to keep them flat. Fry for just a couple minutes until crispy light brown. Push the strips to the side of the pan and with tongs, add your pork chops. Fry for 1 minute on each side and transfer the pan to the oven [again make sure its ovenproof and there's no plastic on the skillet]. cook for 10-15 minutes or until cooked through. Meanwhile, core 1 apple and cut it into 1/4 inch slices. heat a med sized skillet on med-high and toss in a tablespoon of butter and the apple slices. let them brown a few minutes on each side and add a few sprinkles of cinnamon and 2 tablespoons of brandy or whiskey. It'll soak up quick. Let it do its thing for a few more minutes and turn the heat off. Take out your chops. grab 2 plates lay down your chops and top with apples garnish with the cracking on top and tuck in!

Serve over mashed potatoes and watercress to garnish

The Grand Canyon

The epic Grand Canyon hike I imagined having...into the backcountry wilderness, Charlie running in to save the day from a hungry pack of coyotes, the old toothless prospector with the ZZ top beard still out panning for Gold, a lone hiker with half of a bloody arm running up asking for a band aid..didn't happen. Or it didnt happen the way I expected. We did spot a coyote though. On our 7am drive into the Yavapai trailhead I turned behind me only to see my cast mate Emily applying her blush and straightening her lashes. [Emily I'm not upset btw. I'm just trying to set the mood]. If this was any indication of how the morning would lay out, I knew then I could scratch any plans of Grizzly Adamsing it into the Canyon. And I was ok with that. We started out on the trail and almost instantaneous I hear 'we can only go down 3 miles because yelp says it takes twice as long coming back and we have to be back by the lodge by 2 in order to get packed and to Vegas by 5.' Just the stuff that would piss off any hiker. Text messaging, calling, adjusting the Lululemon pants, way outside of our world but still very much in our own safe bubble of the tour.

Bright Angel trail

view from the Avapai trailhead

Cassie Sheik and I

 Finally a mile or 2 down it ends up just being the 5 of us; Paris, Steele, Larkin, Ross, and myself. We decide to start heading back but before we do we got into this game. Whoever can hit the boulder we spotted to our north wins. No one is in sight until a few minutes go by we hear 'No throwing rocks'. I'm thinking we just got busted by a park ranger...a few seconds go by and again we hear 'You throw more rocks and I'll tell the park ranger'. well now i know its not the ranger. This middle aged Asian guy comes around the corner looking like an older poorer version of that Daniel Kim guy from Lost. 'who would we hit? There's no one around', I say. 'Fine' he says in a passive but angry voice, 'I'll just go tell park ranger.' At this point I could see him standing there trying to maintain composure, contemplating in his head for brief moment if he could take the 5 of us and then pissed knowing that, in numbers and youth alone, he definitely could not, but too proud to accept the fact. 'We wont throw the rocks. I'm glad you didnt get hit', Steele says 'now please continue'. This is the best part...the man yells at us 'And if you try to send your dog after me, I'll kill him and I'll kill YOU!' Ok what? who said anything about killing? After a glance around at each other in an awkward 'is this really happening moment' at Kim Jong who was now gripping his walking sticks parallel to the ground, we all set off back up the trail in his direction. As I pass him he's still holding his sticks parallel and I notice him gripping even harder. 'On you're left' I say with authority, passing him on the narrow trail glancing down deep into the canyon below. No doubt in that moment my life was fragile but I made it by and we made it back alive and gambling our hearts away 8 hours later.

Vegas, The Great Indoors

I finally experienced Vegas for all its perfecto plasticity. The glaring oddity, coming from New York City where everyone walks, is that there are almost no sidewalks. Cars drive on roads and pedestrians walk from air condition tubes to buildings, back to tubes, escalators, trams, and more AC. The Hair tribe, in our case, about 15 of us, from the minute we walked into THEhotel, the Mandalay's new swanky hotel, you can feel yourself fall victim to oxygenated coconut scented air that fills the place. Its amazing. THEhotel's just adding to what is already this perfectly set up paradise. And like LA, anyone who tries to come and start something new that doesn't fall along the lines of anything I just mentioned will fall away. Vegas reminds me of those futuristic biospheres on Mars they were trying to bulid, fully enclosed and self self sustaining. what ever happened with those anyway? Isn't it time we start thinking about options? Yesterday I came in way rusty to a Texas Hold em game and lost $200 in about 3 hours and then before we saw Cirque Du Soleil's 'Ka', which was great btw, we dined at 'Olives', Todd English's chain which falls perfectly in line with the Vegas model. Your cheery fat waiters, classic overpriced American French food-sort of. As long as you fit in your carpaccio's, your tar tar, your foi gras, your ravioli, anyone coming to the Bellagio probably wont think anything of their $35 semi dry local roast chicken. that's what I had. Most folks wouldn't even question it and go about there gambling.  The food was decent but still cooked under a corporate model and food in that vein [in my opinion] can only be mediocre.

Ka was brilliant. Somewhere into the show, I stopped watching acrobats and actors and started to see a video game unfold before me. very cool. literally. as if I took acid and at some point your watching something in a different dimention. It my first Cirque experience.  Their other shows 'Love' and 'O' were on Holiday breaks. But sitting there in awe at the technicalities alone I was content to say the least. It made me think a lot about the future of Broadway. Better yet the booming entertainment future of Las Vegas which will only grow to more spectacle as the demand for 3-D spectacle theatre rises. With its built in hydraulics and flying systems, Ka and Vegas in general really make Broadway look like an old man. even the newer houses. 20 shows are closing in New York before Feb and its taken Spider Man almost 2 years to mount.  Yet here I was watching a cast of 75, flying planes over the audience, vertical walls and free falling from the rafters. I asked a friend from Ka, Spencer, who worked as a clown in New York how long they loaded and took this show in. '3 months' he tells me. Again just like Vegas itself, a perfectly designed system.

Sedona AZ the Vortex

I couldn't leave Tempe without going to Sedona. I'd heard too much about it. Its only 2 hours north of Tempe; a stop-off from HWY 17 on the way to the Grand Canyon. I can say, having been to both, Sedona, way smaller in size, most definitely trumps the Canyon. No tourists, the perfect ratio of woods to desert and the vortex. I'll get to that in a sec. My cast mate Jen Sese and Charlie and I made a trip out to Sedona. With the help of a guide in town, this small, leathery, new age woman with 1 lazy eye, who worked at this coffee/gift shop in town, directed us toward the Brins Mesa trail...a not too strenuous walk through a red sand trail, Juniper and Pine trees, and the most KILLER views of Sedona. Almost like a scene straight out of the Lone Ranger except no cowboys or Indians..just us and the open trail and the most picturesque mesas and canyons and energy. By the end of the 2 hours I felt refreshed. Like what baptism to older reformed folks feels like maybe...or the point when you almost die and come back to life. I wouldnt know either except I had a few brushes with death but thats another story. Either way I'm sure this kind of feeling compares. Late in the hike, close to the time we were supposed to leave, out of nowhere Jen and I just start running. Fast. Because, even in my jean shorts and street shoes how could I pass up this kind of back-country trail run. We also ended up a little further down the trail than we thought and were definitely flirting with not making it back to the theatre in time. Come to find out from Josh, It wasn't either of these. we made it back on time-barely. without a snakebite, as the trail was definitely narrow and at any moment my open legs could've been the victim of a nasty snake bite. I told Josh Lamon we went to Sedona and he said 'oh the vortex! 'vortex?' I ask. 'You don't know? There's a reason why its the new age, spiritual capital of the west. Its a Vortex of energy where, scientifically, all points from space direct there energies toward the ground here and move upward like a small tornado off the ground. There's a reason why people come from all over the WORLD to get healed..cancer patients, mental disabilities. So it made sense why I felt this deep spiritual connection. It wasnt the fear of snakes, or the running or the heightened sense of having to be somewhere on time...nothing I think but the universe communing. Heaven.

Before the trip into town to pick up some grub for the trail, we'd heard rumors from my leathery cafe friend about this little sandwich spot called 'Sedona Memories' where all the locals go. Yes that's really what its called. But don't let the name fool you. No Hallmark cards here. This is straight up good deli grubbin and can rival NYC without a doubt. They make their own bread-5 different kinds and I ordered the tuna salad [with cashews inside] which stood about 5 inches tall.

Seattle

Tanesha, me, Larkin, and Laura

I have to confess. Seattle was spent indoors for the most part and for that reason I didn't get to explore nearly as much as I planned. Rain. every day. The day after we arrived though the sun came out and I got to sing the title song of 'Hair' with my tribe mate Larkin Bogan, the Sea Gals, and a flash mob of 150 people at the Seahawks/Chiefs game in front of 70,000 newly pissed off and cold fans. Because the Seahawks and the Chiefs were both 6-6, the game was pretty important. Whoever was to win was to be the new NFC west leader. And this late in the season, it was a crucial win. Seahawks had a few glimmers of hope. When I was in the end zone waiting to sing, I almost got crushed by one of those glimmers, Ben Obomanu, as he dove for a catch and missed it, nearly pummeling me and the guy with the big camera. But in the end, the Hawks got served and the rain continued.

That evening a few of us ventured to the Zig Zag Cafe behind Pikes Place Market, a hidden cocktail speakeasy that has garnered some national attention so we had to check it out. Now at first glance, the low lit ceiling and the bartender straight out of the Great Gatsby, with his hair slicked back and sleeves rolled up, the vibe was tempting and I wanted a good drink. How could i not? By its reputation and the looks of the buoyant bar-goers, when you order a drink from THIS guy, you get a DRINK. I mean where you taste each flavor individually. I ordered the Champs Elysees,  brandy with chartreuse, lemon, and bitters. It was thick. Syrupy and thick and my first instinct was to spit it out. But I couldnt judge this place on 1 drink alone so I meander around to the others and sample their cocktails. More syrupy drinks. They were fine with their drinks. Maybe they werent expecting perfection and so their drinks would do. Or maybe the bartender was filling in and just wasn't on point.

*For good local organic breakfast grub check out the Portage Bay Cafe. For the best local beer and fries, check out Elysian Brewery, both highly recommended by my cousin Mary.

My emotional support dog

Charlie's a service dog. First let me say, anyone with an emotional support dog, please dont be upset. I'm letting the cat outta of the bag for a second because, well frankly I think its kind of hysterical. Somewhere around a few weeks before Hair was leaving New York to debut around the country, I had to figure out the dilemma with what to do with Charlie. That was all put to rest when a friend in the cast told me about 'emotional support dogs', a brilliant idea some broke dude must of come up maybe 10 years ago when he very wisely suggested that service dogs aren't just for the physically challenged.  That maybe dogs can also service the 'mentally challenged'. By this i mean a system where, if you have $200 and a halfway competent dog, you can be issued a paper by an online psychologist that states your dog can travel with you anywhere on board a plane for one year. No hotels or restaurants by the way, just flying. And with your piece of paper you also receive 2 laminated ID tags and an official 'service dog' patch. sounds brilliant right? No joke, anyone with any kind of animal can do it. I said I have ADHD, which i do, but you can make up literally anything. Because normally it costs upwards of $150 to fly your pup, in 2 flights, you've already made your money back. And because its so new, these 'emotional support' people want to hold on to their status for as long as possible. So me speaking up on the matter doesnt really help the cause. Oh yes, I realize I'm also ruining this for me too. Who knows how long this law will hold up before enough people come and ask for letters from their psychologists? Again, I'm sorry.

So when it came time for me to fly to Seattle, it was still my first time and of course I had doubts. Maybe they wouldnt let Charlie fly, maybe the paper wasnt enough, who knows. I ended up trashing his foldable crate and walked on-board. I board first because special needs passengers board first. Then the stewardess comes up and asks the man next to us if he'd 'mind moving to give the dog more space'. What? Is this really happening? More space? Where AM i? the man didnt even think twice and jumped up to find a new seat. then without even asking the stewardess brings Charlie a white porcelain bowl of water and sets it on his tray. So here I am, Charlie lapping from his bowl on the window seat, gazing out @ the Bitteroots of Montana from 2700 feet up.

Macys Thanksgiving Day Parade

Nicks best baked Chocolate Tart w/ lemon vanilla shortbread crust

who, me?

I woke up this morning listening to David Bowie's Starman and dancing with Charlie and thinking about mama Jan and how this was her favorite holiday. As a Belton it was ritual to wake up as early as possible Thanksgiving morning and watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. By the looks of Matt Lauer or Willard Scott [remember him?] its was inevitably 40 degrees and most likely raining. I remember sitting there with my plate of fruit and coffee cake in my warm house feeling this deep sympathy for the Rockettes putting on a smile in their tights but really freezing their asses off in 40 degrees. And that's the best part. I think why the parade offers so much nostalgia and joy is because it was and could never be glossed over to a Hollywood sheen. It was just a messy ass parade with this mashup of the same black and latina girls from Sesame Street, the tired ass looking Broadway shows trying to look awake at 7 am, the new hot thing trying to make up for the fact that their on a big cartoon apple surrounded by 50 middle aged dancing statue of liberties. Lets just face it, its a big mess and I love it! I'm preparing a baked chocolate tart with a lemon shortbread crust and spice cream for my friend Emma and her family. Spice cream is basically homemade whip cream with a load a fresh nutmeg thrown in and then partially frozen. So when the warm bread-puddingy tart comes out of the oven, I'll scoop a nice quenelle of the spice cream and top with a mint sprig. a Quenelle (ka-nelle) is the french term for a football shaped scoop that you work into a shape with two soup sized spoons. Thats all. Bon-appetite

The Breslin and The Northwest

Last night mustv'e been my 10th outing to the Breslin barroom, part of the new Ace Hotel that opened up in the flatiron district. The Breslin is the sister company of The Spotted Pig and part of April Bloomfields Bristishy warmy gastrochic thing she does so well. My friend Idara flew into town for her Aunt's birthday on Long Island and I just happened to have a 5 day hiatus in NYC before Seattle. So we started with a pretty little bag of carmel corn and quickly moved on to a medium lamb burger with thrice baked fries and cumin mayo and then scrumpets, a lightly breaded and fried lamb breast (aka fat) served with a mint and shallot vinagraitte. Onto my favorite of the night-pork belly with root veggie mash. basically its a medallion of smoked pork belly surrounded by a layer of the scored fat all around, with an apple and apple cider reduced salsa lightly drizzled over top. Still some of the best food Ive ever had in NYC.  So I have 2 more days and then I'm off to explore Seattle and the northwest. I'm already planning on doing dinner at my uncle David Pisegnas (Piss-en-yuh). He wouldn't admit it but Davids one of the premiere chefs around Seattle, who is now the Executive Chef at the Swedish Institute. He's already written 2 books, one on confections and his first, 'Food For All Seasons' is a classic homage to Northwest seasonal cuisine. Its been years since Ive visited and I wasnt cooking before so i'm crossign my fingers for a good old fashioned Pisegna cookoff!

Eastern Market

courtesy of Zachary Sasim

Yesterday I went to the Eastern Market with Tatyana. Her boyfriend Zak Sasim sells his art there which if you were to describe his work in a nutshell, is cool mashup of Van Gogh/French impressionism meets DC. When anyone tells me they're an artist, I always cringe because I think about the moment of looking at it for the first time and being unimpressed, which is hard to pretend. When I stopped by his booth, though I took a breath and was definitely happy that I didn't have to fake smile because I'm a bad bullshitter. It was good stuff! If I wasnt traveling so light, I'd have definitely bought something. A little on the Eastern Market. its the oldest farmers market around DC founded in 1873, as a slave auction actually, and instead of slaves, serves locals fresh meats, cheeses, pastries, any local produce that's in season, its great. Tatyana will sub in for Zak sometimes so she knows the other vendors. she took me around and introduced me to Kass who turns old classic paperback books into wallets or hard covers into purses. Or Stanley, their Russian artist friend and functional alcoholic. In all it was a great way to spend a fall Saturday morning before a day stuck indoors.

Annapolis Rock

Chris got to leave work at noon today. One of my goals on this tour is that I take full advantage of any wilderness spots on tour. So today its the Appalachian Trail up 1700 feet to a spot called  Annapolis Rock in Maryland. It was only about a 2 mile hike up to the summit and from the start for whatever reason we kept passing this man who would speed up and slow down and then he got on his cell phone and turned his back as we passed. Normally on a remote trail when you come in contact with a stranger you adjust your space to the other hiker.  There's nothing around except you and the woods so if theres another hiker within your distance, its just a rule of code out here on a trail. But this man kept appearing. and we'd pass and he'd appear again on the trail, with his back to us on his cell phone. Aren't you supposed to leave that behind? Anyway just to make sure he wasn't a nutjob, we stopped and asked him if he'd been to the top. He was about mid 40's, he wasn't from here but was in town working on a movie for Ed Sanchez''s new film 'The Possession'. Ed Sanchez, the director, and him both did 'Blair Witch Project' in these same woods where we were hiking in Frederick, MD.

I know its just a film and Chris and I def couldv'e taken him in a cage match. We definitely weren't in a cage. We definitely left civilization and my life just felt vulnerable in that moment. The man was creepy even before he told us about Blair Witch. And these woods and the late fall weather I really pictured something crazy happening. Nothing crazy happened unfortunately.  Gotdam the view!

Slideluck Potshow

Friday night, at Satellite Central in old Georgetown, I attended the last hour of the slideluck potshow-no typo there. The name reflects the events mashup style. The evening consists of a series of slideshow presentations by a wide range of photographers, amid the bustle of a massive potluck dinner. The presentations run 3 to 5 minutes each set to music of the artists choice and range from anything to life after the Berlin Wall to pics of the conflict in East Congo set to 'La Vie En Rose'. Very thought provoking nonetheless. Towards the end, there was one with great shots of Obama and, like an uneasy energy just swept in, I could feel tension in the room rising, especially when this man in the back kept booing everytime Obamas mug appeared.

Yesterday morning Chris and I went to Blacks Bar and Kitchen in downtown Bethesda. One of the best brunches I've had in a while. seriously. $33 all you can eat.. anything from oysters, tuna tar-tar, duck liver pate and sweet cherry chutney on these almondy flavored crostini's, smoked shrimp ceviche, omelettes to order, mini red velvet concoctions, lemony tarts, it was amazing. and our server was right. anywhere else in town, the price would have been at least twice as much. If you're around DC on a sunday morning, if your not looking for grease to soak up your gin from the night before, or fuck it even if you ARE, do yourself a favor-go to Blacks and feel like a king

Wild Cherry Tree Bark

Happy Veterans Day! this ought to be an interesting night of Hair. I'm waiting for the day I get to see someone storm out or yell obscenities at us. Today may as well be one of those special days. Like a bear sighting. you never know. Whatever the rest of the cast I had, I apparently caught. its caused bad sleep and a face about to explode from all the pressure for the last 4 days.

Oh, and I cant sing.

My voice is competely shot too so I've been lip-synching the show. The last time this happened an employee at Westerly told me about wild black cherry tree bark as a remedy for a flu and/or cough. And it worked wonders. So with the lack of sleep comes dreams. Now usually I dont remember but they mustve been extra vivid dreams. 2 of them. In the first I went to go visit Jan probably days before she passed away and she was driving me home. She definitely looked her best. Her skin and eyes and hair back to their healthy shine and color and size and she told me she didn't feel pain. She told me the doctors gave her a drug to enjoy the last few days of her life and she was so content. I kept looking over at from the passenger side thinking how strange it was that she looked and felt so healthy but that something so terminal would take her away in about 48 hrs. It was such an odd feeling. In the 2nd I was asked to be in a musical at the Gateway playhouse, an old repertory house in Long Island. Johnny Knoxville was the lead and so naturally I bragged to my friends about it but It eventually was cut short because it was all a hoax.

wheres our food identity?

I made an almost all-local dinner for my roomates Chris and Elizabeth last night before heading out to the show. a rack of lamb with mint oil, and kale over a butternut squash puree. And for the sweet we finished it off with a 5 minute prep dessert of sauteed bananas in brown butter maple glaze served over Stroopwaffles.

My friend Tatyana Vdovina came to see the show last night with her boyfriend Zach. They were giving away the Mark Twain award for American humor to Tina Fey in the next room over so the Kennedy Center was definitely laid out on red carpets and security up the ass for the likes of your Steve Martins, Steve Carrell's. Whatever was happening in there, if someone decided to blow up the place, that would have been the end of half of the last 30 years of SNL. It was nice catching up and polishing off 2 bottles of Cabernet. I guess its bad luck in Russia/eastern Europe (Shes Russian, he's Bulgarian) to leave an empty bottle at the table so we stashed them on the floor next to us. It made me think about us Americans and how we really don't have any superstitious behaviors, especially at the dinner table. And then I thought well, we really don't have a food culture to begin with now do we?

Kale and 99 Luftballoons

I feel a bit assy. I'm right on the verge of either getting a full on flu or becoming superman. I can feel the echinacea and the kale having a meeting with my immune system right now. I bought a huge bag of Kale about a week ago and, it couldn't have been a better remedy and a nice midday snack (yes, you can buy in bags now-much more inexpensive than the whole fresh kale, its already cut, and it keeps longer). Heat up your high sided pan. Mince a few cloves of garlic and after a minute once its good and hot, toss in the garlic with a few good glugs of olive oil and a couple pinches of red pepper flakes. give the pan a little swirl around and right when the garlic starts to brown, take a total of about 5 good handfulls of kale and each time you add a new handful make sure the last is covered in the oil so it can begin to wake up and do its thing. your also making more room as it shrinks once it begins wilting. once its all in there, toss in about a cup of chicken stock and let it soak up. it wont take more than a minute. once its hot and begging for more, add 2-3 tablespoons of red wine vinegar and tuck in!
the Hair cast and I did a Be-In at the Warehouse Theatre downtown DC last night.

Allie G, myself, and Caren 'Ma' Tacket

Hair cast at the Warehouse Theatre

My friend and future fellow concert goer Allie Guinn (we saw the Carolina Chocolate Drops together before we left nyc) plays a mean autoharp and she did Nena's '99 Luftballoons' in German-the highlight of the night in my opinion. The event raised money for an amazing organization called Broadway Impact started by fellow Hair-goer Gavin Creel to raise money supporting marriage equality, a topic that seriously makes me wonder if its not 2010 but 1950. Are we still having this conversation?

leaves and the greasy spoon

In exchange for free rent, I raked Chris an Elizabeths lawn today. What exactly is it about hardcore yardwork that if you experienced it as a child never goes away?  I thought I'd let Charlie and Cody (Chris' dog) out while I worked. So while Cody jumps straight for the leaf pile fishing out sticks, Charlie's got this ultra confused look on his face like 'what am I supposed to do?' and I tell him 'you're a boxer, a guard dog so..do that. sit on the porch and look in charge.' We have these conversations. The poor 8 year old has spent 6 of his 8 years thus far in a big city where dogs walk on leashes. None of this roaming and foraging around business PLEASE! Onto the greasy spoon.

I had my first experience at the Old Georgetown Grill in downtown Bethesda MD. It looks like the town is left empty for a few hours before football while everyone and their mothers gorges themselves on open faced turkey sandwiches smothered in gravy, slightly overcooked waffles, pretty (yet greasy) over medium eggs and corned beef hash. Its perfect. the 7 foot Grecian looking cook, the hispanic waitress and the mexican busboys all in perfect synchronization. just another Sunday morning.

routine

Something about me. The idea of any kind of set routine terrifies me. It just does. Who knows-it could my Sagittarian roots. Many a Sag's dont like to be told what to do. Or maybe its  the fact that for 8 years since graduating college I haven't been been confined to any routine whatsoever, short of taxes and sleeping. I lied. there was a stint of time for about 7 months from March-Sept 07 when I decided, after grueling out 'Wicked' in Chicago I was done acting (which of course turned out to be bullshit). so I decided I wanted to cook. And I mean find the equivalant of the best culinary school education but the real McCoy shit, in a restaurant. So after talking with enough professional chefs, I knew slaving away at a top NY restaurant for $450/week would be my calling. question was, which one? I didn't give it much thought other than ties to my favorite chef Jamie Oliver and this whole rise of British cuisine which basically meant a throwing away of fish and chips and re-examining the UK countryside with a bit of some Mediteranean and East Indian. this menu would include things like pigs ear with lemon caper dressing or a rack of lamb with mint oil and aubergines or banoffee Pie or smoked Haddock Chowder in the wintertime or some good swish chard slowly cooked in garlic and cream. this was heaven to me. And the only direction was obvious. The Spotted Pig in the West Village. So I made sure I'd come in between shifts, as this place was undoubtedly busy 24/7, and bear all to whoever would listen or feel pity. I introduce myself to Josh, who would soon be my lead into the culinary world. I told him I'd never had experience in a kitchen but LOVE to cook. and I love this type of gastropub cuisine and I'll do whatever it takes and I'll do it for free. fuck it, I just want to work here.' He looked at me up and down, stared at his blackberry and it went something like 'Alright, next Monday bring your knives, clogs, and something to cover you're head' and he extended his hand and that face that read 'we're the shit, and I admire your enthusiasm and that's why you're hired'. And that was that.

The Spotted Pig

Fast forward a few more years and here I am at the start of a new road with my eight year old boxer Charlie, Hair, a journey across America, and food, all American food in whatever form I can find. The only routine, and I'm still getting used to this typing regularly thing, is this blog. And in my third post, Ive found already like 'The Spotted Pig', that the daily pleasures sometimes come in the most unforseen packages. I'm starting to like this:)

a new week

Jan wants me to relax. Last week was tough. My stepmom and 100% real mom, Janet Belton, passed away...

So I took a week off and flew to the memorial in Sonoma.

Its a 2 show Saturday: The second show I grabbed a quick nap on our dinner break only to wake up to Aquarius over the moniters. Next thing I realize-Chris, one of our stage managers, is tapping me on my shoulder looking at me like I was missing for years. I slept through the show! It was my fault for not being there, yes. But when the roster was taken at places, they checked me in! Katie McKee I forgive you:)

When everyone heard about Jan, and the news spread like wildfire, everyone; I'm talking everyone here, Hair tribe, crew, costumes, wigs departments, sound guys, most of these people I'd met in passing and didn't know their names. well they ALL knew my name and they knew instinctively, even if they haven't gone through it, just what to do. And what that is I can't tell you. its that unspoken thing that happens when someone close to you dies.

Bud and Charlie

Charlie woke me up today, snoring on my thigh. the girl at the feed store last night told me about this 'no grain' food getting a lot of attention. as if we're just realizing this. turns out dogs systems aren't meant to break down grain. The only grain they're supposed to have to have is the grain that the animal they're eating had before them. otherwise what is our food industry to do with all this extra surplus grain? dog owners, look for grain free food. I use this stuff called 'Taste of the Wild' that Charlie loves. Now I'm gonna go soak up this Maryland fall!

a special shout out to my friend and soul mate and road flare Idara Victor

the first day

I just arrived back exhausted from a week away from the tribe. 'Hair' opened at the Kennedy Center the same day my Mama Jan's memorial was happening in St Helena CA. Jan, my bonus mom, passed away last week from a 3 month battle with cancer. I bought a ticket. well my company manager bought a ticket FOR me less than 3 hours before I left DC with not $2 to my name. I would of bought it myself but I coudn't even afford a cab ride to the Metro station. but i called the cab to come pick me up anyway because, as good as I am with public transportation, for all i know I could of ended up in the Potomac river. I'm not quite sure when it was: after multiple swipes of my credit card or my dumbfounded/naive expression of 'this never happens so please feel pity for me' when the cabbie decided I think that I wasnt worth the time. so he took my license, wrote down the important numbers and made me promise I'd send the Bethesda cab co. a check the day I return.

Jan was no 'step' mom by any stretch. she was ALL  mom, willingly taking on a family of 6 kids, at a time when we were all practically going through adolescence. for 18 years she was our mom. when Tim would sneak out of the window at night, she got up and nailed the window shut. when I jumped off the 2nd story roof with a tarp parachute into the pool, she let me down easy. Fast forward to my nephew Ryder being born into the world, and then Lucy, and then Tiegen, and Ella. she passed before she could meet Ella.

And so in Napa, all the kids came to celebrate the ending of one life and the beginning of 2 new lives. the cycle never stops. but it was here this past week, that each of us siblings came together as adults feeling what it was like to be here and now. Theres always a bit of ADHD in the air when our family comes together but this week was different. as we say in Claudes trip in Hair, 'our eyes are open'. There was no discussing the weather, there was only gratitude for eachother. And to be able to look into and through eachother in a way we havent ever experienced. And I think Jan was looking down in hopes that we'd find our happiness, our bliss, and that we'd love each day from here on out.