Because of the ancient foodie pics I posted the other day, several of you asked about the recipes I used back in the old timey days. Specifically, you wanted to know more about the Peking Duck and the cannoli.

Luckily, rather just bookmarking cookbooks, back then I’d type out my favorite recipes on index cards. And surprise, surprise, all these years later, I’ve still got ’em.

And so, here, copied over from I have no idea where, is the recipe that created that Peking Duck.

I’m sure it’s far from the best recipe—I’ve been told I should have used a bicycle pump to inflate the duck at some point if I wanted truly crisp skin—but it’s what I used back then.

As for the cannoli, here’s the recipe which I presume I cut from the box containing the metal cannoli forms. (more…)

There’s been a backlash recently against the practice many of us have of taking photos of our food, with some so annoyed they’re suggesting a total ban, and others going so far as to claim that anyone who does this kind of thing are suffering from mental illness.

To which I say—I’ve been snapping foodie pics since long before snapping foodie pics was cool, and I don’t plan to ever stop!

If you don’t believe me, a raid on my old photo albums ought to convince you. Check out the first Peking Duck I ever roasted, from way back in 1977.

How proud was I of that duck? So proud that I did more than just take its picture—I also had someone snap a photo of me holding that photo! (more…)

It’s that time again. One month has ended, and a new one begins, so here are all of September’s dream tweets gathered in one place to see whether their surreality increases or decreases when rubbing shoulders like this.

Last month, I dreamt of George R. R. Martin, Isaac Asimov, Maisie Williams, Alfred Hitchcock, Tim Gunn, and many more.

SEPTEMBER 2013



I dreamt Paul Levitz and I scurried around a convention debating whether or not he should publish an anniversary issue of The Comic Reader.

 ‬29 Sep

I dreamt I was back in time with a guy who hoped to stop the Charles Manson killings, but based on clues, I thought he’d be the next victim.

 ‬‬28 Sep 



I dreamt I was walking across the U.S., and sat by a sandy stretch of highway, trying to figure where I was, looking through a guidebook.

‬ ‬26 Sep 



I dreamt I led a surreal Dada-ist protest march that wasn’t really protesting anything. We’d march by other marches, confusing them.

 ‬‬26 Sep 



I dreamt I was Dexter, and when someone slashed my sister (not anyone from the show), I hopped in my striped racecar to run him down.

‬ ‬26 Sep 



I dreamt my (deceased) friend Charlie Guida had turned chef, and as I worked for him, he told me, “We audition for our jobs every day.”

 ‬‬26 Sep 



I dreamt I built a working LEGOs helicopter which I planned to use to get aerial shots for a movie. I lent it to a friend … who broke it.

 ‬‬26 Sep 



I dreamt I was reading the Sunday comics when I noticed one strip (Family Circus?) had been dedicated to my grandfather, and showed others.

 ‬‬25 Sep 



I dreamt I lip synced to a series of recorded opera arias, and everybody was fooled. Which is surprising, as the singers were all women!

‬ ‬25 Sep 



I dreamt I was Daniel Radcliffe, and performed some (now forgotten) cross-franchise prank with Maisie Williams to make fans’ heads explode.

 ‬‬24 Sep 

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Ramona Fradon, one of my favorite comic book artists, turned 87 today. So—happy birthday, Ramona!

Though I have fond memories of the Aquaman stories she drew that appeared in the back pages of Adventure Comics throughout the ’50s and into the ’60s, I think I truly fell in love with her artwork from The Brave and The Bold #57 (January 1965), introducing Metamorpho, which she co-created. I was nine years old.

At the time, I never dreamed that she’d someday bring some of my own words to life (or that there’d even be any of my own words to bring to life), illustrating a 5-page horror story, “My Mother, the Witch,” fourteen years later for House of Mystery #273 (October 1979).

When I searched for the proper image to celebrate Ramona’s birthday, I was surprised to find that complete story online. And not just the pages as printed, but her original artwork, thanks to an online auction, which means you get to admire her clean lines exactly as she drew them.

So check out the complete story below!

(more…)

I’ve been to (and loved) all of Chef Bryan Voltaggio’s restaurants—Volt for high-end cuisine, Family Meal for quality comfort food, Lunchbox for sandwiches, and his newest restaurant, Range, for, well, everything—so I enjoyed watching him compete in the latest season of Top Chef Masters. And was proud that a local chef (well, somewhat local) had survived all the way to the finale.

Which meant that when I found out that there was going to be a viewing party of that final episode at 10:00 p.m. last Wednesday out on the Volt patio, I knew Irene and I would have to be there. And since we were going to be traveling all the way over to Frederick, why, dinner was a must! So I made an 8:00 p.m. reservation in order to have plenty of time for a meal before the screening. (more…)

When news spread earlier today that Neal Adams lost his art portfolio by leaving it in a NYC Yellow Cab, it all seemed very familiar. Then I remembered … no, Neal Adams had never lost his art portfolio before by leaving it in a NYC Yellow Cab … he’d lost his art portfolio by having it stolen while he slept on a NYC subway car. History doth (almost) repeat itself!

But don’t just take my word for it. Have a look at this snarky entry from the two-page ad Warren Publishing took out in the 1972 New York Comic Art Convention program book.

For further winners of the “1972 Awards for Dubious Achievement to the Comics Industry,” check out the complete spread below. (more…)

If you’ll be at Capclave over in Gaithersburg, Maryland next month—and are into late-night after-dinner programming—here are three panels on which you’ll be able to find me pontificating.

Luckily, my reading occurs at a far more civilized time …

Friday, Oct. 11, 9:00 pm (Salons CDE)
J. K. Rowling Wrote an Adult Mystery
Why do authors switch genres or markets and how does it affect their career? Do they need a different pen name for each new genre? Is it better to focus on getting good at writing one genre or experiment? What are the reasons authors write outside the areas for which they are best known?
with Catherine Asaro, Betsy A. Riley, Darrell Schweitzer, Jon Skovron

Saturday, Oct. 12, 12:30 pm (Frederick)
Reading

Saturday, Oct. 12, 10:00 pm (Rockville/Potomac)
Name Drop and Quote Panel
Nothing but bragging rights here as the panelists drop names and share quotes as they discuss the best experiences, novels, stories, and conventions they have ever seen. Or not.
with Andrew Fox, Steve Stiles, Ian Randal Strock

Saturday, Oct. 12, 11:00 pm (Rockville/Potomac)
Grumpy Old Pharts Panel
Back in my day… experienced curmudgeons square off. And get off my lawn!
with D. Douglas Fratz, Darrell Schweitzer

Hope to see you there!

I spent Sunday at SPX—the Small Press Expo—in Bethesda, Maryland. (Actually, its location seemed more like Rockville to me, but I guess at some point parts of Rockville started to be called North Bethesda because the Bethesda name helped the area sound posher.) I had fun wandering the packed dealers room and picking up comics by cartoonists who are doing the more personal kinds of work mainstream publishers have for the most part abandoned with their constant focus on superheroes, superheroes, superheroes.

But as much as I enjoyed all that, the highlight of the day was attending a panel on March: Book One, which focuses on the life of civil rights pioneer John Lewis, and then getting a chance to meet the congressman and pick up an autographed copy of his book (which he created with co-writer Andrew Aydin and artist Nate Powell). In case you don’t know, Lewis was one of the 13 original Freedom Riders, helped plan the March on Washington, and is the last surviving speaker from that day.

Here we are together right after I shook his hand and thanked him for his courage and sacrifice. (more…)

When I surveyed the San Antonio culinary scene due to my planned LoneStarCon 3 trip, the two restaurants I discovered that seemed to be musts for dinner were Bliss (which I visited the Friday of Worldcon) and Nao, part of the Culinary Institute of America (which I visited Saturday).

In both cases I made reservations long before I had any idea who’d be joining me, having no doubt that I’d find the right foodie friends who’d want to tag along. I already told you who came with me to Bliss. For Nao, my co-conspirators were Simon and Angela McCaffrey, plus Rosemary Claire Smith, who also went on my pilgrimage to Franklin BBQ Thursday morning.

I hadn’t even known there was a C.I.A. school or restaurant in San Antonio before I started my research, having been aware only of the ones on the coasts. But as soon as I learned of it, I knew I was in. I liked the idea of seeing the future chefs of tomorrow today.

Which isn’t quite how it turned out. Since we visited over Labor Day weekend, the students ended up all being off, which meant that we were instead taken care of by professionals, not those attempting to prove they’d actually learned what they’d been taught during their years at school. I was told that a student’s service in the restaurant was the equivalent of a thesis (though that was the word I offered up, not our server), and that each student had to spent six weeks at the end of their schooling working in the restaurant—two in the back of the house, two in the front, and then two in the back again, moving through all stations of cooking and dealing with customers.

So due to the holiday, I can’t tell you how the students would have done. But the teachers did just fine! (more…)

I remembered fewer dreams last month than usual, thanks to the exhaustion brought on by Worldcon and UkeFest. But what I did harvest from my subconscious is still interesting … to me at least. And since I like to see what poetry they make rubbing up against each other, rather than just singly on Twitter as they were originally shared, I’ve collected them here.

Last month, I dreamed of Walter White, Yao Ming, Buddy Ebsen, Margaret Thatcher and more. Let’s see, shall we?

AUGUST 2013

I dreamt I was driving through Boston when I suddenly found myself in the middle of the marathon — heading the wrong way! No one got hurt.

 28 Aug 


I dreamt I helped Boardwalk Empire‘s Gillian Darmody get an abortion. There was lots of blood and lots of screaming and it was terrifying.



 28 Aug 

 




I dreamt I was working in a cubicle farm at 2:00 a.m., and when someone came looking for a coworker, said everyone else went home hours ago.



 28 Aug 

 




I dreamt my grandfather the bookie was beating up women, and I fumbled through drawers for a pistol to threaten him and make him stop.



 28 Aug 

 




I dreamt I was Who‘s next Doctor — not Peter Capaldi, but me, or someone like me — and when I introduced myself to fans, they freaked out.



 28 Aug 

 




I dreamt I was visiting friends at their Jerusalem home, but then we were suddenly in China, and after that, Japan. Geographical confusion!



 27 Aug 

 


I dreamt I was a mortgage underwriter, rearranging tall stacks of loan applications, struggling to figure out which I should analyze first.



 27 Aug 

 




I dreamt I wandered Macy’s and found Macklemore and Lewis setting up for an appearance. No one else showed, so they performed for only me.



 27 Aug 

 

I dreamt I was attacked by Boardwalk Empire‘s George Remus, but our fight ended when he had a heart attack and collapsed at my feet.



 27 Aug 

 




I dreamt I was at the announcement of the discovery of new Apocrypha that would change everything, but woke before I learned the details.



 27 Aug 

 




(more…)