I was looking for my hummus prep notes and oddly enough, found an old, short interview online I did in 07, mainly about musicians and cooking. I thought it was worth preserving here, enjoy.
b
MusiCulinary Opening Weekend--Featuring THE MUCKRAKERS
MusiCulinary is happy to open a new season with an interview with Brian S. Meurer, bassist for Louisville Kentucky band The Muckrakers. He continues a proud MusiCulinary tradition of bass players having some of the best cooking stories, and provides his recipe for Hummus.
MusiCulinary: What is the one cooking skill you're most proud
of, and how/where did you learn it?
Brian: I'm probably most proud of my knife skills. It's such a great feeling when a well balanced knife quickly dispatches with everything on your cutting board. You've probably heard of people throwing babies in pools to make them learn to swim? That's basically the tactic I took. I'd like to say some well qualified sous chef trained me in the finer arts of using a knife. Actually, I will say that. You can believe that, yes sir. In no way did I almost remove a finger and while cleaning blood from the floor decide to cut cleanly, quickly, and efficiently. Absolutely in no way did I stand up, hold up my fist and say as God as my witness, I'll never go bloody again.
MusiCulinary: Tell us about any new type of cuisine or new recipe
you've recently tried out for the first time...and
tell us if you intend to try it again.
Brian: Recently I've been making a lot of a great hummus recipe a friend passed on to me, as well as, but less frequently, pommes frites, which are thicker and tastier than what we know of as fast-food french fries. The key to the hummus is the draining, rinsing and boiling of the garbanzo beans, as well as the fresh garlic and lemon. The absolute key to the frites is the ice bath immediately after cutting, as well as the two frying times. Although neither the hummus nor frites are a new type of cuisine, they both turn out fantastic, so I return to them often.
MusiCulinary: Describe your most memorable culinary disaster.
Brian: Aside from the bloody nearly-severed finger, the bane of my culinary existence is, sadly, rice. Yeah, rice. I know. But I wanted to do it right, no microwaving something in a box. The first time I made a curry chicken dish, I made a great basmati rice, and I thought that rice is easy, no problem. The second, third, and fourth time of making rice, it basically ruined the meal, each time. I kept trying, kept trying to turn out something edible, something in between mush and tiny oblong rocks. To no avail. You need something with rice? How about we use potatoes or pasta as a side dish instead?
MusiCulinary: Describe a typical dinner you would make for a
quiet evening at home.
Brian: Sauteed garlic chicken, peppercorns, green peppers, onions, olives. French bread. A dry cab-sav or chianti.
MusiCulinary: Complete the sentence: "My listeners would
probably be most surprised that I cook
this:__________________________."
Brian: All day long, all day strong
French Onion Soup
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Decemberists @ The Brown Theater 08.10.09
I love when music sidles up to you, like the slow moving, menacing Mummy in the old Boris Karloff black and whites, or the Creeper from Scooby Doo. It's just sitting there, in that stack of recommendations, and there's so much to do around the house, so hey, two birds. It was in this manner that I absorbed The Hazards of Love by the Decemberists. While not familiar with the band or the album, I was able to put together from numerous background listens that it was aiming for some kind of past-century operatic narrative. In this initial background phase, I was surprised at how many times it surprised me- there was a pace to it; the songs flowed into one another and back again; the abrupt changes were abrupt in the right way at the right time; was that a reprise? The melodies were interesting, the harmonies beautiful, and over repeated listens, those hooks became anchors. And then I got to the lyrics.
By this time I was singing notes and phrases and humming along with the rich melodies and harmonies, until one day during the Rake Song I had to pause. I'm locked in the repeating refrain "Alright, Alright, Alright" when a few of the murky lyrical pieces fall together in my mind and I grasp the dark, dark content. This was the lead single for the album, and apparently generated its share of complaints to radio stations (who subsequently went to bat for the song in its context in the album). As I listened more intently to the lyrics, I recognized the scope and acuity of the narrative, expertly woven and fused with the mood of the album.
The story revolves around William and Margaret, chronicling a journey between meeting and reunification and the complications in between. Rolling Stone described it as "a tale of a maiden knocked up by a shape–shifting beast who may be her future husband. There's also a psychotic queen and three revenge–seeking ghost kids." I began reading through the lyrics, equally impressed with how the story connected and that I was singing along with these words without knowing the words.
It seemed fitting to see the Decemberists at the Brown Theater, the mood of the music enhanced by the ornamental flourishes of a bygone era. Pre show music included selections from Anne Briggs, Nic Jones, Maddy Prior and June Tabor, all 60's and 70's British Folk singers who had a hand in the inspiration of the Hazards of Love, an appropriate prelude. As the band began, they were both strong and playful, light and intense. An enthusiastic, near sell-out crowd on a Monday night, there were some moments that just brought the house down. Main singer/songwriter Colin Meloy has a crisp and clear voice that has both power and earnestness that gives the delivery a real edge. Maybe it's that northwestern accent, like a newscaster working on his non-regional diction, that adds to the mythical quality of the narrative. The two female vocalists on the album, each from separate bands, were able to tour in support of the album, each giving commanding performances of range and energy. They played the entire album, all seventeen songs, front to back, and it was amazing to see it live. After a brief intermission, the band returned for another full set for another ten songs from their catalogue, including the finale of the impromptu action story, a reenactment of "The Tragedy of Seabiscuit", with half of the band moving into the audience with tambourines, drums & cymbals to act out the spontaneous lyrics, culminating with a meteor crashing into Kentucky and wiping out the continental US. It seemed the perfect surreal ending to an evening of antediluvian fantasy.
If nothing else, the sheer ambition of The Hazards of Love is impressive, and the Decemberists have taken hits from those who believe that the effort falls way short. I was actually quite surprised as I made my way through album reviews at the number, and intensity, of negative reviews: Spin calls it "proggish pomposity" for "smarty-pants fans", Blender blasted its "sesquipedalian hijinks". Now, I understand that what could be described as a theatrical folk-rock opera with ornately antiquarian diction might not be your thing, but there's some animosity here, critics taking personal offense at the Decemberists making music they don't enjoy. Entertainment Weekly writes, "Frontman Colin Meloy has many unique gifts as a songwriter — gifts that have all but deserted him on this regrettable attempt at a prog opera. Hazards of Love drowns in convoluted plots, blustery guest vocalists, and comically out-of-place guitar shredding". Another fine example of passing off subjective opinion as objective critique. There's so much music in the world, find what you enjoy and enjoy it. I can only speak to what impressed me- before the next matryoshka doll opened to reveal the ambitious plot- that I was singing along with these rich melodies before I ever reached the underlying text. And for me there can't be a clearer testament to the strength of the music.
Setlist:
Prelude
The Hazards of Love 1 (The Prettiest Whistles Won't Wrestle The Thistles Undone)
A Bower Scene
Won't Want For Love (Margaret in the Taiga)
The Hazards of Love 2 (Wager All)
The Queen's Approach
Isn't It A Lovely Night
The Wanting Comes In Waves / Repaid
An Interlude
The Rake's Song
The Abduction of Margaret
The Queen's Rebuke / The Crossing
Annan Water
Margaret In Captivity
The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)
The Wanting Comes In Waves (Reprise)
The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)
Intermission
Oceanside
July, July!
The Sporting Live
Yankee Bayonette
The Calamity Song
Crane Wife 3
Dracula's Daughter
O Valencia
Crazy On You
Red Right Ankle
A Cautionary Song (w/The Tragedy of Seabiscuit)
By this time I was singing notes and phrases and humming along with the rich melodies and harmonies, until one day during the Rake Song I had to pause. I'm locked in the repeating refrain "Alright, Alright, Alright" when a few of the murky lyrical pieces fall together in my mind and I grasp the dark, dark content. This was the lead single for the album, and apparently generated its share of complaints to radio stations (who subsequently went to bat for the song in its context in the album). As I listened more intently to the lyrics, I recognized the scope and acuity of the narrative, expertly woven and fused with the mood of the album.
The story revolves around William and Margaret, chronicling a journey between meeting and reunification and the complications in between. Rolling Stone described it as "a tale of a maiden knocked up by a shape–shifting beast who may be her future husband. There's also a psychotic queen and three revenge–seeking ghost kids." I began reading through the lyrics, equally impressed with how the story connected and that I was singing along with these words without knowing the words.
It seemed fitting to see the Decemberists at the Brown Theater, the mood of the music enhanced by the ornamental flourishes of a bygone era. Pre show music included selections from Anne Briggs, Nic Jones, Maddy Prior and June Tabor, all 60's and 70's British Folk singers who had a hand in the inspiration of the Hazards of Love, an appropriate prelude. As the band began, they were both strong and playful, light and intense. An enthusiastic, near sell-out crowd on a Monday night, there were some moments that just brought the house down. Main singer/songwriter Colin Meloy has a crisp and clear voice that has both power and earnestness that gives the delivery a real edge. Maybe it's that northwestern accent, like a newscaster working on his non-regional diction, that adds to the mythical quality of the narrative. The two female vocalists on the album, each from separate bands, were able to tour in support of the album, each giving commanding performances of range and energy. They played the entire album, all seventeen songs, front to back, and it was amazing to see it live. After a brief intermission, the band returned for another full set for another ten songs from their catalogue, including the finale of the impromptu action story, a reenactment of "The Tragedy of Seabiscuit", with half of the band moving into the audience with tambourines, drums & cymbals to act out the spontaneous lyrics, culminating with a meteor crashing into Kentucky and wiping out the continental US. It seemed the perfect surreal ending to an evening of antediluvian fantasy.
If nothing else, the sheer ambition of The Hazards of Love is impressive, and the Decemberists have taken hits from those who believe that the effort falls way short. I was actually quite surprised as I made my way through album reviews at the number, and intensity, of negative reviews: Spin calls it "proggish pomposity" for "smarty-pants fans", Blender blasted its "sesquipedalian hijinks". Now, I understand that what could be described as a theatrical folk-rock opera with ornately antiquarian diction might not be your thing, but there's some animosity here, critics taking personal offense at the Decemberists making music they don't enjoy. Entertainment Weekly writes, "Frontman Colin Meloy has many unique gifts as a songwriter — gifts that have all but deserted him on this regrettable attempt at a prog opera. Hazards of Love drowns in convoluted plots, blustery guest vocalists, and comically out-of-place guitar shredding". Another fine example of passing off subjective opinion as objective critique. There's so much music in the world, find what you enjoy and enjoy it. I can only speak to what impressed me- before the next matryoshka doll opened to reveal the ambitious plot- that I was singing along with these rich melodies before I ever reached the underlying text. And for me there can't be a clearer testament to the strength of the music.
Setlist:
Prelude
The Hazards of Love 1 (The Prettiest Whistles Won't Wrestle The Thistles Undone)
A Bower Scene
Won't Want For Love (Margaret in the Taiga)
The Hazards of Love 2 (Wager All)
The Queen's Approach
Isn't It A Lovely Night
The Wanting Comes In Waves / Repaid
An Interlude
The Rake's Song
The Abduction of Margaret
The Queen's Rebuke / The Crossing
Annan Water
Margaret In Captivity
The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)
The Wanting Comes In Waves (Reprise)
The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)
Intermission
Oceanside
July, July!
The Sporting Live
Yankee Bayonette
The Calamity Song
Crane Wife 3
Dracula's Daughter
O Valencia
Crazy On You
Red Right Ankle
A Cautionary Song (w/The Tragedy of Seabiscuit)
Monday, August 10, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Louisville's Sordid History
Bloody Monday, August 6, 1855
Louisville KY
A few years ago I stumbled across a reference to an incident in Louisville's history. I was perplexed. It seemed fabricated; that couldn't happen here, not in my city. Especially with me living here so many years and not hearing about it, without it ever coming up in conversation or school in civics or history. No, surely that's a mistake, the land of urban legend and conspiracy theory. I was the one, however, that was very mistaken.
In 1855, there was a major political party known as the Know Nothing Party, uniting its constituents under the banner of Nativism, or the favoring of existing inhabitants of a region over any immigrants (a wary and ironic eye from the Chickasaw and Shawnee peoples here). Now, this is a pretty sterilized, clinical rendering of the situation; even Charleton Heston's "Damn, dirty apes!" outburst doesn't reach the cold, hard kernel of violent loathing at the heart of the Know Nothing Party, a term now synonymous with anti-immigration and xenophobia. The rise of this party coincided with the major influx of Irish and German immigrants in not only this city but the entire country, with the looming shadow of Catholicism surrounding them, and if the human condition tells us anything, it's that we fear that which is different from what we know.
In those days, newspapers were openly affiliated with political parties, and Louisville was no exception, with the Louisville Journal providing the mouthpiece for its editor, George Prentice (a current statue stands in front of Louisville's Main Public Library). He also happened to be one of the main sources of blame, fanning the embers that would result in a conflagration like this city had never seen.
It was Election Day, August 6, 1855, and the air was charged. The Know Nothing Party was in power- the mayor, most of the council, many judges, the appointed poll workers. Prentice even wrote about the “most pestilent influence of the foreign swarms”, but even in this tense climate, no precautions were taken to provide additional security at polling stations. With the view that only natural born "Americans" had the right to vote, and utter disdain for German and Irish immigrants, poll workers refused access to these foreign-born-naturalized-citizens wishing to cast their ballots. An account from the Louisville Courier, the newspaper of Democrats, states that they were "deterred from voting by direct acts of intimidation, others through fear of consequences, and a multitude from a lack of proper facilities." Altercations increased and intensified into the streets; menacing groups of people were swirling and gathering into mobs and running head first into confrontations, and by mid-afternoon, weapons were making their presence known. "Flying rumors were circulated through the city that the Germans had, with guns and muskets, taken possession of the First Ward polls, and soon thousands of men and boys were running to that portion of the city." From the Louisville Journal, the Know Nothings reacted to news of rioting and bloodshed, "with cries of vengeance upon the murderers, they sought them out and hunted them into the houses that were despoiled or destroyed."
The main areas of rioting occurred in the areas of Butchertown's Shelby and Green Streets as well as the area known then as Quinn's Row, a block at 11th and Main that was a hub of Irish living. Terror escalated with the sound of guns and the fires that were consuming buildings. Quinn's Row was destroyed by flame, as a witness described that "these houses were chiefly tenanted by Irish, and upon any of the tenants venturing out to escape the flames they were immediately shot down." Reports of beatings, stabbing, muskets, cannons, killing, fires and destruction sent a wave of fear throughout the city. Stores were looted and by midnight the glow of fire was all over the city. It was Mayor John Barbee, himself a member of the Know Nothing Party, that to his credit made impassioned speeches to try and calm some of the mobs, saving the burning of St. Martin’s Catholic Church on Shelby St. when he verified there were no stockpiles of guns present, as well as the landmark Cathedral of the Assumption on 5th St.
The rioting went on into the night, and with morning light, the city awoke in horror and disgust. Contradictory and exaggerated news reports assigning blame were carried by national newspapers. The Louisville Courier statement that rings the most true for me is that “the foreigners knew well that they were a small body in the midst of a multitude of persons ready at a moment’s warning to commit any deed of violence. They had long been threatened; throughout the day, in every effort to enjoy that right of suffrage guaranteed to them by the Constitution and laws of this Commonwealth, they had been pursued by mobs of half-grown boys. Their houses were threatened, and warned by the experience of the day, they prepared to defend their lives and property.” Sifting through the records to find truth is an inexact business, with the death toll standing somewhere between 22 and 100, but enough records survive that the black eye is still visible.
It was the New York Times that stated it best in the August 11, 1855 edition, and would be well remembered today, "We trust the occurrences at Louisville will operate as a warning against the heated and maddening controversies, growing out of differences of race and religion, to which they owe their rise. It will take Louisville a long time to outlive the disgrace of the scenes just enacted within her limits."
Louisville KY
A few years ago I stumbled across a reference to an incident in Louisville's history. I was perplexed. It seemed fabricated; that couldn't happen here, not in my city. Especially with me living here so many years and not hearing about it, without it ever coming up in conversation or school in civics or history. No, surely that's a mistake, the land of urban legend and conspiracy theory. I was the one, however, that was very mistaken.
In 1855, there was a major political party known as the Know Nothing Party, uniting its constituents under the banner of Nativism, or the favoring of existing inhabitants of a region over any immigrants (a wary and ironic eye from the Chickasaw and Shawnee peoples here). Now, this is a pretty sterilized, clinical rendering of the situation; even Charleton Heston's "Damn, dirty apes!" outburst doesn't reach the cold, hard kernel of violent loathing at the heart of the Know Nothing Party, a term now synonymous with anti-immigration and xenophobia. The rise of this party coincided with the major influx of Irish and German immigrants in not only this city but the entire country, with the looming shadow of Catholicism surrounding them, and if the human condition tells us anything, it's that we fear that which is different from what we know.
In those days, newspapers were openly affiliated with political parties, and Louisville was no exception, with the Louisville Journal providing the mouthpiece for its editor, George Prentice (a current statue stands in front of Louisville's Main Public Library). He also happened to be one of the main sources of blame, fanning the embers that would result in a conflagration like this city had never seen.
It was Election Day, August 6, 1855, and the air was charged. The Know Nothing Party was in power- the mayor, most of the council, many judges, the appointed poll workers. Prentice even wrote about the “most pestilent influence of the foreign swarms”, but even in this tense climate, no precautions were taken to provide additional security at polling stations. With the view that only natural born "Americans" had the right to vote, and utter disdain for German and Irish immigrants, poll workers refused access to these foreign-born-naturalized-citizens wishing to cast their ballots. An account from the Louisville Courier, the newspaper of Democrats, states that they were "deterred from voting by direct acts of intimidation, others through fear of consequences, and a multitude from a lack of proper facilities." Altercations increased and intensified into the streets; menacing groups of people were swirling and gathering into mobs and running head first into confrontations, and by mid-afternoon, weapons were making their presence known. "Flying rumors were circulated through the city that the Germans had, with guns and muskets, taken possession of the First Ward polls, and soon thousands of men and boys were running to that portion of the city." From the Louisville Journal, the Know Nothings reacted to news of rioting and bloodshed, "with cries of vengeance upon the murderers, they sought them out and hunted them into the houses that were despoiled or destroyed."
The main areas of rioting occurred in the areas of Butchertown's Shelby and Green Streets as well as the area known then as Quinn's Row, a block at 11th and Main that was a hub of Irish living. Terror escalated with the sound of guns and the fires that were consuming buildings. Quinn's Row was destroyed by flame, as a witness described that "these houses were chiefly tenanted by Irish, and upon any of the tenants venturing out to escape the flames they were immediately shot down." Reports of beatings, stabbing, muskets, cannons, killing, fires and destruction sent a wave of fear throughout the city. Stores were looted and by midnight the glow of fire was all over the city. It was Mayor John Barbee, himself a member of the Know Nothing Party, that to his credit made impassioned speeches to try and calm some of the mobs, saving the burning of St. Martin’s Catholic Church on Shelby St. when he verified there were no stockpiles of guns present, as well as the landmark Cathedral of the Assumption on 5th St.
The rioting went on into the night, and with morning light, the city awoke in horror and disgust. Contradictory and exaggerated news reports assigning blame were carried by national newspapers. The Louisville Courier statement that rings the most true for me is that “the foreigners knew well that they were a small body in the midst of a multitude of persons ready at a moment’s warning to commit any deed of violence. They had long been threatened; throughout the day, in every effort to enjoy that right of suffrage guaranteed to them by the Constitution and laws of this Commonwealth, they had been pursued by mobs of half-grown boys. Their houses were threatened, and warned by the experience of the day, they prepared to defend their lives and property.” Sifting through the records to find truth is an inexact business, with the death toll standing somewhere between 22 and 100, but enough records survive that the black eye is still visible.
It was the New York Times that stated it best in the August 11, 1855 edition, and would be well remembered today, "We trust the occurrences at Louisville will operate as a warning against the heated and maddening controversies, growing out of differences of race and religion, to which they owe their rise. It will take Louisville a long time to outlive the disgrace of the scenes just enacted within her limits."
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