Festivals

I blissfully now live in small-town America  and now that the weather is warming up, you see flyers, posters, billboards, and television ads for every type of festival under the sun.

I was at a BBQ festival in Kentucky a couple of weekends ago and had a passable pulled pork sandwich. The newspaper sandwich wrapper had an advertisement for a Jewish festival. I didn’t say the Jewish Festival, because there will be several throughout the planet going on.

I love gefilte fish.

And latkes.

And bagels.

And Barbra Streisand.

I am totally impressed with the vibrant music scene in this Miami Valley in which I dwell. The quality of music by headliners and open mic players is at a high level, and there seem to be plenty of venues to play.

I’m home.

I’m pretty good with any type of music festival, but not all that hot on quilting or crafts. There are many who truly enjoy these gatherings.

I am not one of them.

Food festivals are best, and with us going over to my sister-in-law’s house for a great BBQ feast of brats, jalapeno dogs, chicken hamburgers, pasta salad and as many chips as you wanted.

Yum.

What was very cool as I reached the denouement of my high-profile chef career, I was asked to judge different food festivals’ entrants, and all it really amounted to was a three-day boozefest and about five hours of “judging.”

Puh-leeze.

I have a definite affinity to seafood festivals. They are one of the things I used to showcase my dishes that I presented in traditional Escoffier-inspired recipes but with the flashy all-edible, colorful California Cuisine flair.

It looks like I spoke too soon about the bird exodus here at Happy House. I went out to the car to head to the medical marijuana dispensary, and I looked up at the previously-empty nest and this fat bird flew about fifty feet away.

I decided that I would open with the song One Headlight, by the Wallflowers featuring Bob Dylan’s son Jason.

If you play music, you have been influenced by Bob Dylan.

Period.

Back to festivals.

We are a little bummed, as we did not know the annual Taste of Cincinnati food festival was over Memorial Day weekend.

We won’t forget next year.

I helped Steve Wozniak move a computer stand at his tent at the US festival.

Just looked like another nerd to a cool guy like me.

Not too cool to compare bank accounts.

I’ll get over it.

I think my second song will be Longhaired Redneck by David Allan Coe.

Relax; it’s that kind of place.

The best vibe.

I just ate the first of the fruit; I am really looking forward to summer and the ripe and juicy local produce. When I was a chef in northwest Ohio, I had a specialty produce woman who provided me the tiniest, fully matured baby vegetables including tomatoes, mushrooms, squash, carrots, potatoes, and zuccini.

I would take finely-slice red cabbage and blanch it in vegetable stock. After a few minutes, it turns blue and I used that as the “bed” whereupon the mini veggies were artfully perched.

That was for the garnish.

Hell yeah, you’re paying forty dollars for that plate.

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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