Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Sausage and White Bean Soup


Well slave is facing this holiday with Master out of the country. No sense in feeling sorry for my self. No evening of egg nog and porn! Slave will fix a healthy soup for dinner tonight. After that make some meatballs for my elderly neighbors and do a “reading” of the “story” for them. They do love it and have trouble holding the book and reading esp. at night. That way slave will be serving!




This bean soup is easy to throw together with canned beans, some sausage, and basic seasonings. Slave adds some spinach for some extra color and nutrients.




Ingredients:
1 Tbs Extra Virgin Olive Oil
¾ lbs chicken and apple sausages cut into ½ inch pieces
1 med yellow onion, finely chopped
2 large cloves garlic finely minced
½ teaspoon dried oregano
3 cups chicken broth low sodium, divided (plus extra to thin if needed)
Two 14.5-ounce cans white beans, drained and rinsed (I like to use Great Northern beans.)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 packed cups baby spinach
Kosher salt

For serving (optional):
Chopped fresh parsley or grated Parmesan cheese

Directions: 




Spray your dutch oven. Do your cutting. Slice the sausages and chop the onion, mince the garlic.. If you wish, pull the stems off the spinach.



In the dutch oven, heat oil and cook sausage for about 7 minutes.



Reduce to medium heat and add onion and garlic, cook for 5 minutes or until starting to turn transparent.



Add ½ cup of broth and scrap bottom of all fond.




See how clean the bottom of the pot is now.
Now add the oregano, 1 drained can of beans and 1 ½ cup broth. Bring to a simmer.





Blend the other drained can of beans with a cup of broth in a processor until it becomes a puree. Add to pot and return to simmer. This will thicken the soup. 



Add spinach by handfuls so it wilts into the soup and let simmer for about 20 minutes. This will allow the sulfur to cook out of the spinach and unmask the great taste that is buried there.

Adjust taste with salt and pepper but be careful since the sausage has lots of salt in it. 



When you serve you can sprinkle with parsley and or Parmesan cheese if you wish. Serve with a nice warm bread.

Let the warmth and goodness fill you.

Even alone, I serve my Master!

socialslave

To satisfy and restore.
To nourish, support and maintain.
To gratify, spoil, comfort and please,
to nurture, assist, and sustain
..I cook!

Please buy slave's cookbook:

The Little Black Book of Indiscreet Recipes by Dan White http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00F315Y4I/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_vAT4sb0934RTMvia @amazon



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Thursday, December 19, 2019

For A Gypsy Boy


This a Romany Gypsy recipe for a cheap and filling sausage and potatoes plate. It is sometimes called “Joe Grey” and would be served as a runny stew, with crusty bread. Here we strengthen it up with some spinach and dedicate it to a Gypsy LGBT hero known as Mikey Walsh. Read about him after the recipe.



Sausages, tomatoes, potatoes and onions plus a bit of spinach makes this hearty healthy meal perfect for the weather.





Ingredients:
3 or 4 uncooked bratwurst
3 slices thick cut bacon
1 large onion
1 can diced potatoes
1 can diced tomatoes
32 oz container low sodium beef broth
5-ounce bag baby spinach

Directions:
Do your cutting: chop onion into chunks




In Dutch oven, brown the bratwurst, 8 to 10 minutes. Remove and cut each in thirds.



Add bacon to pot, cook until rendering grease,add onions and cook until soft.




Return meats to pot add drained tomatoes and drained potatoes. Cover with heated beef broth.




Bring to a simmer

Add spinach by the handfuls as they wilt.
Let cook, stirring occasionally, for about 30 to 40 minutes. If you wish thicker dish, make a slurry with 3 Tbs cornstarch and water, stir in in small amounts until it reaches the thickness you wish.
Traditionally served on a plate with a crust bread dunked in to sop up all the liquid.





What an honor to dedicate this to Mikey Walsh!

socialslave

To satisfy and restore.
To nourish, support and maintain.
To gratify, spoil, comfort and please,
to nurture, assist, and sustain
..I cook!

Please buy slave's cookbook:

The Little Black Book of Indiscreet Recipes by Dan White http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00F315Y4I/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_vAT4sb0934RTMvia @amazon



==============================
Mikey Walsh 



Today's LGBT hero is a surprising combination. The very fact that he survives and even thrives should be an inspiration to us all.

Mikey Walsh was brought up to be a bare-knuckle fighter in the Gypsy community, but being gay, he was forced to leave his family and culture in 1996.

Mikey Walsh never wanted to be a fighter. His father was “fiercely determined” to have a son that was a true fighter.

In Romany culture, having a male child was everything — even more so for the Walsh family, which was known for generations of manly men who were good with their fists.

So, going against their heart doctor's advice not to try for a second child, Mikey followed his older sister Frankie. Upon the happy event, Mr. Walsh hung golden boxing gloves around his newborn son’s neck.

Growing up, Mikey loved the dramatic. He and his sister, enjoyed dress-up. They loved watching TV and, largely unsupervised, they played outside with their cousins, who lived on the same compound.

It would have been a wonderful early childhood but at age four, his father decided that it was time to start fight training, and the best way to do it was to beat the boy. His disgust at Mikey’s cries meant more punches.

By age 13, Mikey realized that he was gay, which, he knew, would enrage his father. He also knew that he needed to escape before it cost him his life.

And it wasn’t just the fact that Mikey was gay. “It is hard for everyone who is different and comes from my community,” he says.

If you want to marry a non-gypsy or not follow the path that’s been set out for you, it’s hard. It was always going to be difficult for my father to accept what I am, especially in a community where everyone feels like that.

Even if he could have managed to survive his father’s blows and keep his sexuality hidden in a community with few concealed truths, there was an even darker secret that Mikey had to escape.

His father’s brother Joseph had been sexually abusing him since he was seven years old, but Mikey knew his family would never believe it.

He still can’t dwell on this part of his story.



When he was 15, there was a bounty on his head because he had run away from his gypsy family. As a gay teenager, he knew the next beating he got from his father might kill him.

Mikey’s not his real name. It’s a character from The Goonies, the children’s film he watched over and over as a young boy. But that’s the name he’s been known by for half of his life.

Mikey Walsh is a handsome young man, but for more than a decade he’s known it would be too dangerous for him to have his photograph taken.

More than 15 years ago, he left one of Britain’s most private communities and has since told many of its secrets.

Sometimes Mikey even wonders if he made the right decision to leave. Like some other gay gypsies, he could have taken the decision to stay and live a lie.

When I think of being on the run I think how alive I was. When I was 15 I would sit up all night praying not to be gay. But if I hadn’t been, none of this would have happened.

I went on this journey to find normality. I wanted the most boring, humdrum life.”

And he has found a place in “normal” society, working as a teaching assistant in a school for children with learning disabilities.

I love it,” he says. “And I’m getting the primary school education that I never had – learning about things like the Saxons.”

Mikey pushed through adult education and taught himself to use a laptop. Then he wrote the first chapter of his life story and sent it to all the biggest publishers. One of them offered him a book deal.




The story of his escape from his violent upbringing, Gypsy Boy, became a number one bestseller. His first book ended as Mikey left the camp and it’s now being made into a film. X+Y director Morgan Matthews is set to direct, and Benedict Cumberbatch is going to star, playing Walsh's Father.

I’m hard on myself when I write, that’s my father always in my head, pushing to do better,” he says. “But the books aren’t ghostwritten – they are me.”

His follow-up autobiogrpahy Gypsy Boy on the Run tells the story of what happened next – how Mikey hid for years from gypsy hard men sent by his father.

It is also a story of endless kindness, from the woman who helped him open a bank account to the teacher who taught him to read.

Now, incredibly, after everything that has happened, he is reconciled with his family and there is no longer a bounty on his head. But other people who claim to represent the gypsy community have threatened him.

I’m happy to stay anonymous – I never wanted fame,” he says. So Mikey remains a mass of contradictions. He is famous, but anonymous and for years he had no formal education, but is the author of two books.

Some people actually thought I was a made-up person,” he
I’ve had detractors saying I was the creation of a publisher. People think you can’t not go to school and write a bestseller.”

Mikey says the runaway success of Gypsy Boy has brought ups and downs. He worries that people reading his books might think he isn’t proud to be a gypsy.

I’m very proud of who I am – being a gypsy is in your blood,” he says. “There is this amazing sense of community and respect for each other – a huge extended family. “And it is something I really miss. There were so many colorful characters.”

He doesn’t often visit his gypsy relatives but he is still close to his mother and sister. “Mum just feels it’s easier I’m out of it all. But she wrote me a really lovely letter recently. She drew around her hand and sent it.”

Mikey’s Gypsy Boy series will not have a third book.
That’s the final part of my story told,” he says.
This is me – I’m going to go off and be a grown-up.”














Monday, December 16, 2019

O'Hara's Holiday Meal


Here we are having our first snow of the season. As big white flakes quiet the world, we plan a dinner roasted on a sheet pan. Doing oven time turns vegetables into their most flavorful offerings. Everything cooks on one pan so cleanup is much easier. We dedicate this to LGBT hero poet Frank O'Hara. There is a quick story about him to help with dinner conversations.


Roasted sweet potatoes full of natural flavors and not candied, fresh broccoli with their inherent sugars brought forward and great white meat chicken, wow. For holiday flavors and colors we sprinkle with red onion, pecans, and dried cranberries.




Ingredients:
2 medium sweet potatoes peeled & diced into ¾-inch cubes (3 cups)
4 Tbsp olive oil, divided
1½ lbs boneless skinless chicken breasts, diced into 1¼ inch pieces
4 cups small broccoli florets
½ cup of a medium red onion, diced into chunks
3 cloves garlic, minced
¾ tsp of each: thyme, sage, parsley and rosemary
1/8 tsp nutmeg
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
½ cup pecans, whole or roughly chopped
1/3 cup dried cranberries

Instructions
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line a rimed baking sheet and spray.
Do your cutting: 



Peel and cube the sweet potato, 



cut the florets of broccoli and let soak in a bath of water with a bit of vinegar to clean.


Chop the onion, Mince the garlic. 




Cut up the chicken breasts into 1 ½ inch chunks. Toss with 2 Tbs of baking soda. (this will help the browning)





In a small bowl mix together the spices, seasonings, and salt & pepper.




Place sweet potatoes in a mound on the baking sheet, pour 1 Tbsp olive oil over top and toss to evenly coat. Spread into an even layer and roast in preheated oven for 15 minutes (meanwhile chop and prep remaining ingredients).




Remove sweet potatoes from oven, add chicken pieces, broccoli florets, and red onion around sweet potatoes (just placing everything randomly).
Sprinkle with garlic and drizzle everything with remaining 3 Tbsp olive oil (focusing mostly on the broccoli so it doesn't dry) and toss with a spatula to evenly coat.

Sprinkle evenly with the seasonings. Toss again to evenly coat with seasonings and spread out evenly (try not to overlap chicken pieces).

Return to oven and roast about 16 - 20 minutes longer, stirring once halfway through, until chicken registers 165 degrees in center.


Toss in pecans and cranberries. Stir and serve together.

You might want to warm some crusty bread with this. What a wonderful holiday decorated meal to serve Master.


socialslave

To satisfy and restore.
To nourish, support and maintain.
To gratify, spoil, comfort and please,
to nurture, assist, and sustain
..I cook!

Please buy slave's cookbook:

The Little Black Book of Indiscreet Recipes by Dan White http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00F315Y4I/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_vAT4sb0934RTM via @amazon



=============================
Frank O'Hara 


                            1926–1966

Frank O'Hara is now considered to be one of the foremost figures of mid-century American poetry, recognized for his personal tone and autobiographical subject matter.

He founded a movement called Personism. He said, “It does not have to do with personality or intimacy, far from it! But to give you a vague idea, to address itself to one person (other than the poet himself), thus evoking overtones of love without destroying love's life-giving vulgarity, and sustaining the poet's feelings toward the poem while preventing love from distracting him into feeling about the person”.

O'Hara is regarded as a leading figure in the New York School—an informal group of artists, writers, and musicians who drew inspiration from jazz, surrealism, abstract expressionism, action painting, and contemporary avant-garde art movements.

Frank O'Hara, the son of Russell O'Hara and Katherine, was born in 1926, six months after his parents married. He grew up in Grafton, Massachusetts.

O’Hara went on to study piano at the New England Conservatory in Boston. He spent four years there before joining the military and serving in the South Pacific and Japan. He was stationed as a sonar man on a destroyer, the USS Nicholas during WWII. 

After the end of the war he attended Harvard College and graduated with a degree in music. He worked on compositions and was deeply influenced by contemporary music, his first love, as well as visual art.

O'Hara remained a fine piano player all his life and would often shock new partners by suddenly playing swathes of Rachmaninoff when visiting them. He was a deeply artistic person, finding passion in composition and visual arts. It was also during this time period that he began to write poetry.
Despite his love for music, O'Hara changed his major and left Harvard in 1950 with a degree in English. He then attended graduate school at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, and received his MA in 1951. That autumn O'Hara moved into an apartment in New York City with Joe LeSueur, who was his roommate and sometime lover for the next 11 years. It was during this time that he began teaching at The New School. He was soon employed at the front desk of the Museum of Modern Art and continued to write seriously. That year he published his first collection, A City Winter and Other Poems.

O'Hara was active in the art world, working as a reviewer for Artnews, and in 1960 was Assistant Curator of Painting and Sculpture Exhibitions for the Museum of Modern Art.

Known throughout his life for his extreme sociability, passion, and warmth, O'Hara had hundreds of friends and lovers throughout his life, many from the New York art and poetry worlds.

His initial time in the Navy, during his basic training at Sampson Naval Training Center in upstate New York, along with earlier years spent at St. John's High School began to shape a distinguished style of solitary observation that would later inform his poems. Immersed in regimented daily routine, first Catholic school then the Navy, he was able to separate himself from the situation and make witty and often singular studies. Sometimes these were cataloged for use in later writing, or, perhaps more often, put into letters. This skill of scrutinizing and recording during the bustle and churn of daily life would, later, be one of the important aspects that shaped O'Hara as an urban poet writing off the cuff.




O’Hara met longtime partner Vincent Warren in the summer of 1959. Warren, a Canadian ballet dancer, was the inspiration for several of O’Hara’s poems.

His second collection, Oranges: 12 Pastorals, was published in 1953, followed by Meditations in an Emergency in 1957. His final collection, Love Poems, was released in 1965.

O'Hara's poetry is personal in tone and content, and has been described as sounding "like entries in a diary". Poet and critic Mark Doty has said O'Hara's poetry is "urbane, ironic, sometimes genuinely celebratory and often wildly funny" containing "material and associations alien to academic verse" such as "the camp icons of movie stars of the twenties and thirties, the daily landscape of social activity in Manhattan, jazz music, telephone calls from friends". O'Hara's writing sought to capture in his poetry the immediacy of life, feeling that poetry should be "between two persons instead of two pages."

O'Hara's most original volumes of verse, Meditations in an Emergency (1956) and Lunch Poems (1964), are impromptu lyrics, a jumble of witty talk, journalistic parodies, and surrealist imagery.



O'Hara continued working at the Museum of Modern Art throughout his life, curating exhibitions and writing introductions and catalogs for exhibits and tours.
In 1959, he wrote "I don't ... like rhythm, assonance, all that stuff. You just go on your nerve. If someone's chasing you down the street with a knife you just run, you don't turn around and shout, 'Give it up!
"As for measure and other technical apparatus, that's just common sense: if you're going to buy a pair of pants you want them to be tight enough so everyone will want to go to bed with you. There's nothing metaphysical about it."

In the early morning hours of July 24, 1966 a beach taxi he had been riding in on the Fire Island beach broke down in the dark. Walking home, O'Hara was struck by another jeep riding by. He died the next day of a ruptured liver. Attempts to bring negligent homicide charges were unsuccessful. O'Hara was buried in Green River Cemetery on Long Island. The painter Larry Rivers, a longtime friend and lover, delivered one of the eulogies.

After his death, the posthumously published collection, The Collected Poems of Frank O’Hara won the 1972 National Book Award for Poetry.




The 46 year old gay man, Frank O'Hara, made an indelible mark on American literature. He deserves to be remembered both for his intellect and his joyous love of life!





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