Spring? Says Who?

M E M O R A N D U M

To: Spring

From: Winter

Date: March 21, 2006 - [First Full Day Of Spring]

Re: Cancellation

Please note that, effective immediately, you have been cancelled. The regulations do not provide for an appeal of your cancellation. You will be advised of your rescheduling.

* * *

I mean, really. It was something like 14 degrees this morning with the wind chill. This is not North Dakota - although I have it on good authority that it was a balmy three, count 'em, three, degrees there a couple of mornings ago. I did indeed wear The Hat (tm)* to work this morning, something I normally reserve for days when the actual temperature drops below 20, but since I've never worn it when it's been officially spring, I made an exception this morning. I didn't tie it beneath my chin, though -- something I do when it's really cold that immediately identifies me as Not Cool and Not Russian. But that's ok, because it makes me a Warm New Yorker.

*Yes, The Hat, as it has been dubbed by my friends, is a genuine Russian rabbit fur hat, complete with ear flaps, brought back by my parents from their visit to Moscow in January 1994. (It is only fitting that while they were there, we had one of the coldest, longest cold spells in New York I can remember, while they were enjoying relatively balmy mid-30s in Red Square. I drove them to JFK, so I had the car while they were gone, which led to lots of fun and excitement on the streets of Brooklyn when the car door froze open one day. But that's another story, and another post.)

Words

bicycle ride on the sidewalk
a man brushes his teeth
furiously
over the corner trash can
( so I've heard)
a car winds sinuously backwards down a one-way street
drops of rain
trickle down the panes and
pool darkly on my shoetops

lowering grey skies yield little clue
as to the coming blue
a splash of bright graffito at the top
of vertical brick
how did they get there
the modern spidermen
in their delicate midnight dance
of evasion and challenge

the Broad Way name
once in lights and future same
I walk down the other so prosaic
these lights are tired Christmas lights
twitching feebly in their long decline
reflections dancing dimly in the puddles
lapping at their feet and
suddenly splashed on the casual passerby
who no longer cares
about the bicycle
ride on the sidewalk

Praline Bacon - or Bacon Brittle?

For New Year's 2003/2004, as I think I've mentioned before, Jim and I went to New Orleans, and fell in love with it. We also fell in love with something called praline bacon, which, as I had read in an online description, possibly somewhere on Chowhound, is the "food equivalent of crack." Here's how I wrote it up shortly after we returned from the Big Bacon Fest:

The Day Of The Praline Bacon Adventure, Or What Laura And Jim Had For Breakfast.

Yup. Did it. Had it. It’s legal. Crack is not. Although I’ve never tried the latter, I would say that it is a fair comparison.

So breakfast on this beautiful, unexpectedly crisp Tuesday morning was to be at a little Creole place called Elizabeth’s, in a neighborhood called the Bywater. We didn’t drag ourselves out of bed until close to 10:00, and Elizabeth’s serves breakfast – and consequently praline bacon – only until 10:30. We could see on the map that the street Elizabeth’s was on intersected our street, but we didn’t know which block Elizabeth’s was on. Our host looked it up, and told us it was within a block of our street – but the street itself was a good 10 blocks away. (And that's clear as mud.)

We began walking. And walking. The clock was ticking. We crossed the railroad tracks. And walked. Finally, we spotted Gallier Street. We were only a block away – but in which direction? To the right looked like a dead end at the levee. We turned left. Walked about ½ block – that didn’t look promising, either. It was getting awfully close to 10:30. We turned back towards the levee. And sitting tucked away at the end of the block, at the corner of Chartres St. (which had been completely dug up), was Elizabeth’s. We walked in at exactly 10:30. There was one table for two left, and we sat down. We were in time to hear a waiter say to a woman next to us, “well, if your friends don’t get here before they’ve ordered” (pointing to the table of 4 seated just before us) “they’ll have to order lunch.” He then told the next couple as they came in the door, “breakfast is over, it’s only lunch now.” I snagged the waiter, and with something approaching panic in my voice, said, “we would like to order breakfast.” He said, “No, you’re ok. You’re the last ones.” Jim and I like to cut it a bit close on occasion.

We ordered one serving of praline bacon. Jim then ordered an omelette made with smoked sausage, and I tried to order the same, but in the middle of ordering I forgot that I was supposed to be ordering an omelette, and asked for the eggs to be done over easy. So I got my eggs over easy with sausage, grits and a biscuit. I had a small piece of the biscuit and about ¼ of the grits – both were excellent. The sausage was awesome, with a real kick.

If you are the type who likes the maple syrup from your pancakes to mingle with your bacon, you love praline bacon. It doesn’t matter whether you like nuts or not. I hate most nuts, including pecans (at least, I thought I hated pecans until this trip. I may have to change that). Praline bacon is basically bacon that has been coated on one side with sugar syrup and small pieces of pecans. Deadly. I love it. I will go there again.

I will also report that I now like pecans, in case any of you were wondering. I am even happier to report that Elizabeth's survived Katrina, is open, and, so far as I know, is still serving praline bacon.

I met up with a friend last night for - what else? - a little sushi (funny how something like that happens when you lock yourself out of your apartment and your husband isn't coming home for another two hours and you run into your friend at your local coffee shop), and then Jim finally joined us. After a little sushi and a little sake, and we were parting ways, Meg dropped a bombshell.

"Have you ever heard of bacon brittle?"

Beat. "Uh, bacon brittle?" Yes, she assured us, there really is something called bacon brittle. It seems to be the reverse of praline bacon, in a particularly dangerous kind of way. And she sent us the link.

Without further ado: bacon brittle. Because of the wonky way the page is set up, you have to scroll all the way down and look on the left, and click on the more info button. I will leave you with an excerpt from the product description:

It was as if Allen Ginsberg had just read Howl or Bob Dylan had just played electric for the first time. I became fixated on the Bacon Brittle and had to have it for my catalog. If ou or soemone you know claim to love bacon, you must try this. It will shake the earth you walk on. One bite and you'll shake and dance and involuntarily yell out, "Yeah baby, Yeah Baby, Yeah!"

A bit more evocative than "the food equivalent of crack", ¿no?