8.0 The Sellwood Kitchen Anti-Massacree Friendsgiving

Starring Erin, Mike, Jessica, Trent and Eleven Other Good Friends & Family
Filmed on Location in Beautiful Downtown Sellwood
Soundtrack: “We had the record player going all day…”

“Take this brother, may it serve you well…”

I remember how it began, but only because I wrote it all down. It was the day after Thanksgiving. What we call “Friendsgiving.” At least – since we developed this tradition last year. On Friendsgiving, we invite a bunch of friends over to our place, for a sequel of sorts to Thanksgiving. Full turkey dinner – stuffing, potatoes, cranberry, the works! I gained 45 pounds, though most of it was gravy weight.

Friendsgiving’s historical roots lay in the celluloid landscape of “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.” You know, when Peppermint Patty phones Charlie Brown (she calls him Chuck) and invites herself over for Thanksgiving dinner. Then she invites Marcy. And then she invites Franklin. And pretty soon Charlie Brown, Peppermint Patty, Marcy, Franklin, Linus, Sally, and that dog are sitting around a ping-pong table, eating popcorn and toast. (I only realized this similarity ex post facto.) So that’s what we do. Except we do the inviting. And instead of popcorn, there’s a Crockpot full of Li’l Smokies…

Once again, Erin and Trent did the cooking. Unlike last year, this Friendsgiving benefited from weeks of meticulous preparation. Lists were compiled. Invitations were mailed. Fridges were stocked.

At 10 am, I dropped the needle on Paul Mauriat’s “Love is Blue” (between 1959-1964, Mauriat recorded under pseudonyms Nico Papadopoulus and Willy Twist). His easy pop instrumentals beg the listener to sip a decaf and O’Mara’s Irish Cream. Your wish, Monsieur Mauriat, is our command!

Soon, delicate yet bold aromas drifted into the living room where I sat reading a Greil Marcus meditation on “Like a Rolling Stone.” Mmm…Trent’s Pumpkin Curry Soup roils under the lid. Lil Smokies (overheard from the couch, “The Velveeta of Meats”) are swallowed by a vortex of swampy barbecue sauce. Oops, I just drooled on “Works Cited”.

So far, it’s just the four of us; Erin & Trent in the kitchen, Jessica and I not in the kitchen. Eleven more guests will squeeze into our apartment before the day ends (which would be 12 hours later…).

Jess, even more pregnant than in our last article, was craving root beer (I can’t stand the stuff – it falls somewhere between soda and beer without the benefits of either). She also needed her book from home. Anyway, while there, Trent called her to bring back the smoked salmon. This led to what will be remembered as Jessica’s Polar Excursion for Smoked Salmon. I’m not sure why we needed the smoked salmon – there was already enough food to overextend King Kong’s belly; I guess we were playing it safe in case he brought his son.

Anyway, in a scenario one would assume had already been played out in an outrageous Japanese game show, Jess spent the next 30 minutes shoulder-deep in every fridge and freezer in their home, locating said fish only moments before the black tips of frostbite stained her fingers. Returning to the Sellwood Kitchen, Jess plunged her numb paws in the roaster, displacing some gravy onto the festive plastic tablecloth. I leapt from the couch to sop up the spill with an Eggo (it was still early and we were out of English muffins).

Meanwhile, the potatoes were whipped (overheard from the couch, “I’m planning on eating that whole vat of potatoes myself”), and the bird was prepared. Jessica’s Corn-Flake Potato Casserole rested, ready for the oven. Dinner was scheduled for 3 pm – and the chefs had everything prepared! So they got cocky. On a whim, they made caramel apples! And with the extra melted caramel, they make whiskey caramel candies. With Bushmills whiskey – la de da! Wait! That’s MY Bushmills!

So we relaxed and waited for the flood of guests. The music played: Roberta Flack, Ray Charles, Bob Dylan’s “Empire Burlesque”. I got up and tasted the gravy. The gravy is great! Not only the taste, but the texture – bursting like a yolk in my mouth! I wish I still had a Krazy Straw!

Knock, knock. Who’s there? Everyone! With MORE food! Thank heavens! Because I hoped to top out at 250 lbs before the weekend! In through the door burst Nicole & Ella, Adam & Josh, Alyssa & Michael, and Kella & Brian, all with dishes in hands! We packed into the living room.

Then my brothers and sister-in-law arrived. And they all packed into the listening room (we O’Shaughnessys like to separate ourselves from the pack – might be one of the reasons we escaped from New York). Then the bacchanal began!

The rest is a blur. A cacophony of chewing. (A few decibels under the ravenous din of chomping maws, one could hear the avant-garde clatter of the Beatles “Revolution #9,” my personal maneuver of auditory guerrilla warfare, a strike against the best-of collections of Earth, Wind & Fire and the Doobies.)

I ate for twelve hours straight that day.

And that was “The Sellwood Kitchen Anti-Massacree Friendsgiving!” Keeping the spirit of friendship and gluttony alive until Thanksgiving rolls around again!


FRIENDSGIVING

Two Cooks
Their Spouses
Eleven Friends
Music
Appetizers
Beverages
Main Course
Desserts
Games
Lots of laughs

Fill one small apartment with ingredients. Mix. Mingle. Mangia! Repeat next year.

The “In the Sellwood Kitchen” cast and crew can be contacted at: sellwoodkitchen@gmail.com

7.0 Bet on a Bottle of Smoke

Starring Erin, Mike, Jessica & Trent
Filmed on Location in Beautiful Downtown Sellwood
Soundtrack: The Royal Scam by Steely Dan

“While the music played, you worked by candlelight…”

6:01 am. My pillow was “filled by Louisville Bedding Co.” Now I know. Great. What byte of imperative knowledge did I replace with that revelation?

Jiminy! It’s Wednesday! The next article’s due tomorrow! Nice try, brain! Better get up and check the Internets to see what’s abuzz about “In the Sellwood Kitchen.”

Word on the web is that we’re “joyfully entertaining” and a “super good time.” Let’s see if we can sustain this zenith of informative hilarity. On to this month’s installment of ITSK!

Hi. Erin speaking. I know, right?! I’m writing! Right. Don’t worry – Mike will return. I’m just checking in. I’m writing, but that doesn’t mean Mike is cooking. He’s just asked me to give a report from the kitchen. He doesn’t regularly venture into that part of the house. It’s not that he isn’t helpful; it’s just that we have a 3 square foot kitchen and I prefer him to stay out! Moving on. Luckily, this month we received an unexpected invitation to our friends Jess and Trent’s house for dinner. I can’t tell you how relieved I was not to have to come up with a recipe. Sometimes I get this thing I call "chef’s block." Not like a knife block, it’s more like writer’s block, but with food.

So anyways, I told Trent I was happy to be a sous chef for a turn. He understood completely, and I started slicing cremini mushrooms. As soon as they hit the pan, Jessica began popping in and out of the kitchen more than usual. All the while, she kept her eyes on the sizzling fungi. She seemed concerned about something. Sweating with a desperate enthusiasm over the stove, I broke her glazed and penetrating stare. “Don’t worry,” I assured her, “there’s plenty for everyone. Now go back to your 15th century pedantic banter in the living room!”


Mike here. I’m back from… well, it’s really none of your business where I was. Ok, where did Erin leave off? “Sizzling fungi”, “penetrating stare”, “15th century…” Ah yes! Well, actually it was an American History textbook from 1939 that Jess owned. You see, this is usually how our friend dinners work. Erin and Trent cook. Jess and I babble pseudo-intellectually about the political climate and quantum mechanics. Or else, we’re watching "Cash Cab" while thumbing through the viciously honest chapters of Jenny McCarthy’s baby book. Yep, Prego and I loaf in the lounge while the chefs sweat like quilted pigs in hell’s kitchen. But Jess has an excuse, being an expectant mother. Me, I’m just lazy. Hey, that’s an excuse! If I weren’t so exhausted debating about which is the superior Steely Dan album, I’d rise from the couch to give you an update from the kitchen. Hey, Erin? How goes it?

Oh, you know, it goes... Well, we made “the” sauce (Trent’s pièce de résistance), sautéed the mushrooms, grilled the chicken, and cooked the pasta. We drank wine. I cut up some great crusty bread. We drank wine. Wait, did I say that already? Well, we did, and it was pretty tasty. Trent and I spent part of our cooking session daydreaming about running our own restaurant. If people are rude in our restaurant, we would be able to make them leave. I always wished I could do that when I was serving… It was a good dream. However, we soon realized we have no money to start such a business, and no business experience. Well, it’s good to have dreams anyhow. Overall it was a pretty good dinner-making experience. I think Trent and I are getting pretty good at cooking together. We’d better be – we’re cooking together for 16 people in the smallest kitchen EVER for Thanksgiving. If our friendship survives that, we’ll be unstoppable. Enough about that. You’ll read about it in the next article. Now, on to the food! I’ll let Mike take over; his enthusiasm for food makes for some highly-entertaining writing. No pressure, Mike!


Don’t worry – I’m a professional writer (let me give a “shout out” to my long-suffering brothers and sisters in the Guild). Well, before I knew it, dinner was served. I don’t know what those two in the kitchen were complaining about – it seemed to take no time at all. Heck, I got through seven chapters of that baby book!

How best to describe the meal? Ye Gods! What a flavor! Smoky, but not “stink bomb” smoky. Rather, it possessed a delicate elemental flavor, as if the essence of smoke had been captured in a bottle and… wait, I’m told the sauce derives its epithelial hue from something called “Liquid Smoke.” Go know, right? The sauce languishes over the superlatively-cooked penne, the chicken enmeshed in the furrowed quills! And of course, there is bread. (Note to ITSK-files: there is always bread.)

Jessica, charged with a burgeoning anticipation, enters the kitchen and is so overcome by the swirling scents of steam she clamps onto the table’s edge with a vise-like grip. Only her locked elbows fight the gravitational pull of this irresistible dish. She’s like James Brown after the encore, and she hasn’t even tucked in her napkin!

Saliva pools! Tongues beckon! Forsooth – even my isthmus of the fauces yelps with curious delight! What power hath this entrée over us? Is it succulence or succubus!

Why, it’s friend dinner, done to perfection, once again!

PENNE FROM HEAVEN

The Sauce
Equal parts flour and butter to form a roux
2 cups whole milk
1.5 teaspoons liquid smoke
1.5 teaspoons Frangelico or hazelnut syrup
Salt to taste

The Rest
Cremini mushrooms, sautéed to perfection
2 Chicken breasts, grilled and sliced
Penne pasta

Serve sauce, mushrooms and chicken over pasta. Enjoy with crusty bread, good wine, and friends!

The “In the Sellwood Kitchen” cast and crew can be contacted at: sellwoodkitchen@gmail.com

6.0 Our Chef in Sellwood

Starring Erin, Mike & Allee
Filmed on Location in Beautiful Downtown Sellwood
Soundtrack: Planet Waves by Bob Dylan / Our Man in Paris by Dexter Gordon

A spooky dish awaits you at the end of this long, dark article! Brush away the cobwebs and… wait a minute. What’s today? The 1st? Rats! Halloween was yesterday! Oh well, so much for that meal!

The chill of Oregon’s autumn touches me with tendrils of mist. Brrr! Brrr! Brrring on the soup! Turn up the heat! Drop a platter on the turntable! How about Bob Dylan’s Planet Waves? Backed up by The Band, it sounds like November to me.

“On a Night Like This”: Dinner for three – our Maid of Honor is coming over! Erin begins creating the soup. What kind of soup? I’m not sure yet. She’s slicing up a kielbasa. Our kitten is skittish. Simba, our elder cat, is casual, airy. Subtle, even. They nest in the living room this evening. Rainclouds nudge their way through the suppertime sky.

“Tough Mama”: I nibble on candy corns, writing in a notebook on the coffee table. Erin peels sweet potatoes. The sidewalks of Sellwood are feathered with small yellowed leaves. The trees fade like flats of atmosphere, guiding your stare through depths of dappled orange.

“Something There is About You”: Mascara streaks down Erin’s face as she chops a yellow onion. I laugh – when did Alice Cooper get here? Next, celery is executed. Knock, knock… our guest arrives.

“You Angel You”: (Dylan flubs the first line – it’s great!) The stock pot’s on the stove top. Wine is poured. I abstain (for a change). Allee and Erin chat in the warm kitchen. Wonderful smells start wafting into the living room. Sometimes I help with the cooking. But tonight I’m too occupied with writing. Or acting like I’m writing. I put on a new album, Our Man in Paris by Dexter Gordon. I found it for fifty cents. Scratched to heck, but his horn leaps from the ragged grooves. I read the liner notes. They’re by Nat Hentoff. You know…Nat Hentoff? Oh, forget it. Can you hear someone rolling their eyes? I think I just did.

“Scrapple from the Apple”: She’s putting apples in the soup! It appears to be a variation on mulligatawny! Erin cooks like Ornette Coleman plays horn. It’s free jazz! Better – it’s free soup! She’s bebopping with the spices!
“A Night in Tunisia”: Soup’s on! But not just soup! There’s homemade biscuits! (When did that happen?) Steam rushes from their split sides. The soup is… transplendent! Two bowls, I eat. I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite. Erin brings each of us a slice of warm apple pie (she baked that, too) and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I guess I can eat another bite.

At the core of Erin’s commitment to cooking is a restless desire to learn. Before I lay down for the night, I ask Erin a question. She answers, “No, I’m not wholly satisfied at the moment; my recipes are just beginning.”

Thanks to Nat Hentoff and Dexter Gordon.

FALLIGATAWNY

1 yellow onion
2 carrots
1 apple
1 kielbasa
3 celery stalks
2 small cans diced tomatoes
1 quart of vegetable broth
I cup of water
I sweet potato
2 cloves of garlic
2 tbsp of curry powder
Dash Nutmeg, cumin, salt & pepper
1 cup of chopped parsley

Brown sliced kielbasa. Set aside. Sautee diced onions, celery, carrots and garlic in stock pot for a few minutes. Add broth, kielbasa, diced sweet potato, diced apple and water. Spice with curry powder, a dash of nutmeg, a pinch of cumin and salt & pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce to low heat. Cover and simmer for 30 minutes. After simmering, stir in fresh chopped parsley. Ladle into bowls. Serve with homemade biscuits (oh yeah, that’s another recipe!). Enjoy with any one of Dylan’s early-70s albums.

The “In the Sellwood Kitchen” cast and crew can be contacted at: sellwoodkitchen@gmail.com