Random Recipe: Cream of Arugula Soup

I've been eating a lot of arugula the past 6 months, mostly in salads. A friend recently made a cream of arugula soup that was delicious but I wanted to try my own. I looked at a million recipes and came up with this. A word of warning: white pepper is really distinctive; if you don't like it, leave it out or use just the tiniest amount to start. You could also veganize this recipe by definitely adding potatoes, using veggie broth, eliminating the cream and parmesan and replacing these with, say, two tablespoons of miso. Would be delicious. Just watch the other salt you add since miso is so salty.

2 T butter
2 T olive oil
1 red onion
2 leeks
5 cloves garlic
2 bunches arugula
4 C. chicken or veggie broth
lots of coarse black pepper, at least a 1/2 tsp, but probably more
about 1/4 to 1/2 tsp salt, probably more, to your taste
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes, more crushed
8 oz whipping cream, 1/2 and 1/2 or milk, as you see fit.
1 cup shredded/shaved parmesan (a coarse microplane zester is the best preparation for this)
1/8 tsp ground white pepper
1/8 tsp fresh nutmeg
1/4 tsp dry mustard
1/8 tsp lemon zest

Wash the arugula. If using bunches, cut off some of the stem; if using bagged baby arugula, leave it as is.  
Heat the oil and butter together in a dutch oven or soup pot.  Chop the onion and slice the leeks (white and a little bit of the green part only).  Add the onion and leeks to the butter/oil and saute over medium heat until soft.  Mince and add the garlic and saute a little longer.  Add the arugula and cook it a bit and to wilt it, stirring frequently.  Add the crushed red pepper, some salt, and the black pepper.  
Add the 4 cups of broth.  Bring the mixture to a simmer and let the arugula cook a little longer.  Blend the soup, either with an immersion blender or in batches in a regular blender.  
Return the soup to low heat and add the cream, parmesan, white pepper, dry mustard, and nutmeg.  Stir well to blend.  Taste the soup.  Adjust seasonings to your taste.  There should be some heat behind it provided by the mustard, white pepper, black pepper, and crushed red pepper so if you don't want it to have a pungent, deep, but overall mellow spiciness, adjust.  Just before you serve it, add the lemon zest.

World AIDS Day

I don't know why but this year, World AIDS Day was really intense.

UPDATE: I started this post last World AIDS Day.  Turns out, this year was pretty intense as well.  I have been thinking a lot about (as I was last year) all the lost fucking potential from so many amazing gay men who have died, especially early on.  During the plague years I was young enough that I didn't have to experience all of that, but I was aware of it.  As I age, particularly now that I'm solidly mid-thirties and have had a little mortality wake up, I am just so overwhelmed by all that was lost in those deaths.  It's so hard to fathom all the creative and productive potential--all the ways that lives would have been touched.  I was thinking about the Flirtations song "Living in Wartime" and although I hate the war metaphor, it makes more sense to me now.  A whole big swath of young men just wiped out.  It's unbelievable, really.

Anyway, last year I stumbled on this, a searchable database of all obituaries that have appeared in the Bay Area Reporter since it began publishing them in 1979.  It's this unbelievable testimony to some of the lives lost.  I started at the beginning last year and have been making my way through the archive, reading the obituaries, one at a time.  Morbid maybe, but I really think of it as a kind of witness, a way of not forgetting, a way of wrapping my head around all that loss.  I think it would be awesome to have a whole show of The Stoop dedicated to this--have the theme be the living telling a story about someone who had died of AIDS.  A way of preserving, of honoring.  Everyone had a story. Here are some of theirs...

Not Dead from Cancer

That's a terrible name for a post but it will have to do. So, it turns out that the having cancer part wasn't as bad as I had feared in my last post. In fact, if I had to guess, I'd say it was all fairly routine in terms of treatment. Caught early (even after a year of having that sucker on my tongue) it turns out that (so far) the only treatment I needed was to have some surgery. Sure, a third or so of my tongue is gone, and I look a little like I had a stroke for now, but in the grand scheme of things, big whoop, right? I won't go into the details here, but suffice it to say, parts of it sucked a whole lot, and parts of it were just annoying, and parts of it still are. I was well supported throughout and hope I didn't take that too much for granted; I am grateful beyond measure that I don't need radiation.

I have a really super badass scar that runs from behind my right ear, down the side and across the front of my neck, like more than halfway across. It's big and when J and my dad came into the recovery room, they did not have their game faces on. Even through the haze of the anesthesia, I remember my dad's exact words: "Woah, that's big!" Nice.

However, it turns out that having had cancer is another animal altogether. It's like all the stereotypical brush with death, first realization of mortality, shockwave stuff you'd imagine: it's heavy and contrived at the same time. It makes me want to appreciate the little things, read books I mean to read, slow down, hug the dog (we don't have a dog) and just see all the people I love who have made me who I am, as often as possible. That sort of shit. It's really incredibly emotionally taxing a lot of the time and really really very much harder than I had any idea it would be.

So FYI, if you get cancer, it mostly comes after. Somehow I feel like I should have figured this out on my own or something. On the upside, I am appreciating the little things more, so if life is ever by chance, a little more dull, I'm not noticing because that's the most gorgeous leaf pattern in that tree, like, ever--with the light coming through it like that--see that? Gorgeous. That's how it is. And I cry a lot more easily at totally inopportune times (bus, desk at work, grocery) but I don't really mind. I'll start some therapy pretty soon.

But perhaps most incredible of all is that exactly 3 months to the day (which I just realized by reading my previous post) that I was diagnosed with cancer, I started a new job back in DC, honey badger in tow (J's new nickname I think). And I'll take a sec here to just acknowledge the total badassness of HB and I (me in particular, since I was the one with cancer) for getting, treating, and recovering from cancer, hearing about, interviewing for, and getting a new job, struggling with, submitting all the paperwork for, and ultimately finally earning my license to practice psychotherapy in DC, packing all our stuff, getting it into pods, saying farewell to important folks in LA, road tripping across the country, landing in DC, and starting a new job all within that exact three month period: March 16 - June 16. Yeah, it's been kind of an indescribable whirlwind, but I guess way opens. Way Opens.

AND THEN just two weeks back and barely settling into DC, having not yet received a paycheck, we put an offer on a house that was accepted practically instantly, and a week and a half later, honey badger (almost probably) got a job. Damn. Cancer has made me suspicious enough though that in spite of all that amazing stuff and the incredible seeming almost miracles that made this amazing transition back home to family and friends possible, I kind of want all the good karma to stop, because I'm afraid I'll have to pay for it in tongue, or worse. And I don't want that.

Last night I had a dream that I was in a bar with about 4 other people seeing Ani Difranco (I just can't un-caps her name, even after the humility of cancer. Sorry, ani, but names are meant to be capitalized) play and before the show (four people? Dreams are funny), she walked by me and sang the single line: "No, I'm not angry anymore." and it got me wondering: I've been putting all this cancer stuff in the context of grieving, but ani (okay, there, that's twice. I love you, you know it!) got me thinking. A lot. Because anger is not a comfortable emotion for me.

In the meantime, gratitude.

Cancer cells love cheese

Well shit. I didn't intend for this to turn into a cancer blog, which frankly sounds a little tiresome and played out and possibly self-indulgent, but then again, I didn't expect to get a cancer diagnosis either. So, for now, here we are.

I was told yesterday that I have cancer on my tongue. This is not what I was hoping to hear obviously although it certainly helps explain why the sore place on my tongue didn't go away for almost a year. I suppose in some small way I am grateful to know what it is. On the other hand, fuck that. I'm 37 and I would have been happy to wait 30 or so more years before dealing with something like this. That's not how it's going to go. I get this now.

I have been telling everyone I know because I firmly believe that the love and light I receive from my family, friends, and community will be my shelter, in addition to whatever probably horrible and trying medical interventions there will be. It's a little selfish but I want everyone to be praying and holding me in the light. Everyone, all the time.

I was talking to a friend tonight whose cousin just completed his treatment for tongue cancer and it sounded pretty awful for him: surgery to remove the cancer and to transplant some muscle from his shoulder into his tongue; loss of appetite and the ability to taste anything (which evidently returns to some degree); having a feeding tube for months; salivary glands destroyed by radiation; lots of pain. There's not much to look forward to in that list, although it could be pleasant to lose a little weight. However when faced with the specter of all this, going to the gym doesn't sound so bad after all by comparison. But that ship has sailed now hasn't it.

Anyway, since I found out yesterday, I'm still pretty numb and just letting myself be in the present. Part of my present includes muscle relaxers, tylenol 3 and tequila, but that's just fine for now. Numb is nice. The rest is just allowing myself to be on the roller coaster and ride the emotions however they come. It's less crazy than it sounds. It's actually nice to just give myself permission to feel however and not try to justify feelings away, or deny them, or fight them.

Everyone is very supportive, especially Jason who is an incredible, steady, loving partner and friend. I feel very lucky. Well, and a little like I don't deserve to have cancer, so a little unlucky as well. But lucky to have Jason at least.

Shopping Carts Change Lives

The other night I was heading to Trader Joe's to pick up a few things.  Parked out in front of the store was the shopping cart repo man truck.  This guy has the unenviable task of driving around and corralling wayward carts from all over and then returning them to their rightful homes.  That there is a person (actually lots of well organized people) who make this job their livelihood speaks to the cart culture that exists in LA.  There are a LOT of homeless folks and shopping carts are a useful way to store and move stuff, so they're in demand.  Trouble is, stealing them from the stores is illegal of course.  So periodically, the carts are rounded up and the belongings dumped out.  This is actually pretty shitty for the homeless who just need a way to contain and mobilize their stuff.  There've been lots of press about this over the years.

When I was working for Friends, I learned about the availability of legal shopping carts from Catholic Worker.  The article here is old, but the practice still continues.  I learned about this from my co-worker who was the prevention case manager.  He was telling me that he had succeeded in getting one of these carts for a client.  I teared up a little thinking about the impact that something as simple as this would make on this guy's life, particularly with respect to helping him manage his HIV.  It was really something.  My co-worker shared this really awesome quiet moment, each of us appreciating how huge this was and acknowledging that it might not seem like it to most folks.  It was a sweet, shared, wordless couple of seconds of just being together, but it was so huge.

Valet of the Dolls

This is a real company, and a great play on words although a bit of a non-sequitor since there's really no connection to the film, just hot girls parking your car. I learned about them one night; they'd been hired to valet for an event that was happening at the Jim Henson studios, which is right across the street from work. The other night my co-worker was certain he'd seen Jennifer Hudson go in for a party or something.

Incidentally, I got a brief tour of the place last year when my new work computer was accidentally delivered to their address. The cute receptionist, Matt, was kind enough to show me around a little. I saw lots of Emmy statues and a life-size Skeksi, among other things.


We were really hitting it off, Matt and I, and I started to imagine myself hobnobbing with the Henson family, maybe getting a part time job, moving my way up the ladder, etc. when I mentioned that I grew up watching the Muppet Show and really loved the muppets. There was a silence. Matt said, icily, "We sold that property to Disney." More silence. Flirting: fail. Foot in the door: fail. Fail. I grabbed my computer, lugged it across the street, and never looked back. "That property", like it couldn't be spoken of. I guess I'd be bitter too.

Anyway, whether it's hot ladies doing it or not, after a while of living in LA, you willingly valet your car practically anywhere (movie theater, mall, etc.) and don't think twice about paying for parking. It's just the norm, and in the city, for as huge and sprawling as it is, it can be tough to find parking (justification alert). Admittedly, we Angelinos, after a while, just start to accept less walking. Walking, rather than being integrated into daily life (as in DC after I sold my car, and particularly after Jason's car was stolen), becomes an event. You go hiking in Runyan Canyon or you go to the gym to walk. But walking more than a block from the car to the restaurant? Screw that nuisance! There's a valet. (and the blocks here are pretty big [justification alert #2]). Now I try to walk only for its own sake, never as a means to an end, and only at designated times.

I remember in DC thinking that places where you could valet were really fancy and that only the elites did that. Here, I recently noticed in Pasadena, you can valet at the Container Store. No shit. The Container Store.

Celebrity sightings

Just a quick post to recall some of our celebrity sightings and where they happened. I mention where because I find the context interesting. Like, I live here and so do they (mostly in the valley, right?) and we're all just going about our business. Sometimes a celebrity is in context (think, "sceney" restaurant or on Robertson Blvd. (trendy shopping), other times, more out of context, just doing their thing, just like me. There's something about that I find intriguing, though clearly not enough to be very eloquent about it. Anyway...

In no particular order, well except the first.

• Fabio. Hands down my favorite sighting ever. My cousin and a friend were visiting and we were all doing some obligatory sightseeing of fancy houses in Beverly Hills (which largely means looking at super tall bushes and fancy gates), four of us in the car. We pulled up to a stop sign in the residential area and a red convertible sports car of some kind (I won't even hazard a guess what model, it's such a cliche) pulled up beside us, stopped for just a second and then sped off, like pedal to the metal sped off, needlessly so. Very showy. All at once, but after a pause, all four of us in the car chimed, "that was Fabio!" It was awesome. He was kind of leathery and orange.
• Tony Hale (Buster from Arrested Development) at the Trader Joe's down the street. Twice.
  
• Michael Cera walking down Hyperion (with stereotypical backpack) while I was enjoying Huevos Rancheros at the Burrito King.
• Jessica Alba at Loteria Grill in Hollywood. She was essentially sitting right next to us and we didn't realize it until she left and flash bulbs were going off outside the window. The waiter told us.
• Darryl Stephens, that guy from Noah's Arc, at AOC on 3rd. Not shocking since it's kind of a scene. But the food is amazing.
  
• The other Hilton sister on Robertson Blvd. (which was a block from our WeHo apartment) at some retail clothing store opening. Remembered: Nikki.
  
• Tori Spelling on Robertson Blvd., obviously shopping. It was clearly staged, for her show or something.
• Jack Nicholson, also on Robertson. Had a small entourage.
  
• Victor Garber at the ArcLight Cinema in Hollywood. I forget what we were seeing.
  
• Calpernia Addams at the "Whatever Happened to Busty Jane" show at the Celebration Theatre at Casita del Campo in Silver Lake. She sat right in front of us. I bought her a margarita.
• Scott Bakula at the Donut Prince on Olive in Burbank. Amazing donuts, btw.
• Mary Lynn Rajskub at Travel Town (which was featured on an episode [season 4, episode 8] of Six Feet Under, remember? Nate and Brenda take Maya there). She was riding on the kiddie train a few cars back with her kids.
• Adam Goldberg, walking down the street mid-city.
• Bruce Vilanch, drove behind me in his cherry red PT Cruiser on Fountain all the way from Silver Lake to Hollywood. Wasn't it Bette Davis who famously said, of navigating LA traffic, "Just take Fountain." She's right.
  
• This shouldn't count, because the celebs were arriving to re-record "We Are the World" but I work right across from the Jim Henson Company (former site of A&M Studios, and Chaplain Studios [hence Kermit dressed as the Tramp in the statue on the roof]) and thus saw a ton of different folks arriving: Brandy, Celine, Snoop Dog (drove himself), and others who slip my mind at present.
• There are others I'm forgetting. I assume I see more celebrities than I recognize if that makes sense. The mind plays tricks. Sometimes it's hard to know. Some days everyone's a celebrity; other days, a famous person probably bags your groceries. Confusing.
  

Annual Bowl Pilgrimage

So every year I've lived in LA, I've gone to the Hollywood Bowl once a year. The once a year thing is coincidental but now it's kind of turned into a tradition. The first year, right after moving here, it was Rufus Wainwright re-enacting Judy Garland's Hollywood Bowl performance (a few entries down). I believed that was the gayest thing I'd ever done. Last year it was seeing Donna Summer (pretty gay, but not necessarily any gayer than Rufus/Judy, and kind of a disappointing concert, although it's the Bowl so you get into it no matter what). Most recently it was Liza Minnelli which obviously takes the gay cake to a whole new level.

Not that it matters, but she wasn't terrible. She got tired easily and the notes weren't all there, but that wasn't all that important was it? The show was largely exported from her Liza's at the Palace...! except that she performed alone at the Bowl.

I don't know how I've managed to live my life without knowing the Charles Aznavour song, "What Makes A Man A Man"? Liza sang it at the Bowl and I thought it was great. Here she is performing it at the GLAAD awards.



The wildfires were raging pretty hard the night of the concert and the sky over the mountains behind the stage glowed orange from time to time. It was eerie. I tried to photograph it but never got a good shot. All in all, it was a memorable night. A few months after the show, I saw that the posters from the season were for sale. I loved the Kii Arens designed Liza poster. Not a great image of it below, but you get the idea. You shouldn't be able to nab a good photo of it anyway. Buy the poster. I did. Love that her shoulder is created by the acoustic shell.

Anyway, it was a great experience. This summer we might go see the production of Rent that Neil Patrick Harris is directing. At this point it would be wrong not to try to find the gayest thing to do. Sound of Music sing-along anyone?

Amish Grace

Sometimes the Lifetime Movie Network is irresistible. A few weeks ago I started watching Amish Grace which I DVR'd. It seemed like it had all the important and necessary elements we have come to expect from Lifetime movies. It was pretty good/bad in the way you want.

I learned also that my DVR is clearly smarter than I am, because about a third of the way through, it stopped recording, which was really just fine. After the major plot points are laid down, you kind of know how these movies tend to play out: loss of faith (in this case, literally), redemption, etc. so I probably didn't miss much. If I were really curious, I could watch the entire movie online. So could you if so inclined.

Tammy Blanchard was in this movie. You remember how she blew our minds as the young Judy Garland in the TV biopic from 2001? (I'm amused that the contributor to the Wikipedia article mentions the "verisimilitudinous impressions of Garland by Tammy Blanchard and Judy Davis". Who uses the term verisimilitudinous in a sentence except at a spelling bee?). Well she was pretty underutilized in this film, just toting children around, looking tear-stained and beleaguered, but I'm glad she's getting some work.

Anyway, what really bugged me about this film was that, in spite of being set in Pennsylvania, it was very clearly filmed in LA and it was totally distracting me the whole time. Now I know they were on a budget, and lots and lots of films are made here, so I can deal. Since I've lived in LA however, my TV and movie watching has been forever changed.

The main thing is this: there is something about the angle of the natural light here that is really distinctive and when you see outdoor scenes that are filmed in SoCal, you can kind of tell. So it was distracting and annoying. I think they filmed in Whittier, a peculiar historically Quaker enclave outside LA, so they were trying to approach authenticity, but no dice, it still looked like Baywatch. There is a scene early on where the shooter goes to a hardware store, and it's so obviously LA. There's this chain link fence with spirals of razor wire that just screams southland. I don't think I've seen a hardware store with that kind of prison-level security anywhere in the east.

But enough complaining. I'm grateful for all the mindless entertainment I absorb.

It's really been a ridiculously long time since I posted anything. I've been mum since I got a job in October 2007. Lots has changed. The most relevant to this blog being that I don't live in West Hollywood anymore. I hope you'll overlook that. Silverlake (which I inexplicably prefer as one word instead of two) is more affordable. I did live in WeHo for a gay year (Halloween through Pride). It was brief but great. Now instead of living right around the corner from a multi-thousand dollar Balenciaga handbag:



I live right around the corner from shelled edamame, two buck chuck, organic blue corn tortilla chips, hipster employees, atrocious parking, good snacks and convenience foods:



Frankly, it's a good trade-off. There's also a regular grocery store and lots of other things. That said, there's a certain energy in WeHo I miss. And my commute was about five minutes from WeHo; now it's 20.

Anyway, there's a lot to catch up on. Today however, I was inspired to defibrillate the blog because I was thinking about my favorite homeless personalities in LA. It's a strange reverie I realize. It's not a joking thing. I have a lot of respect for folks who can make it on the street. I've learned a lot about resilience, choice, and harm reduction from my homeless clients. Certainly for some people, homelessness is not a choice; but you might be surprised to learn that not everyone who lives on the streets sees their circumstance as a transitional state or as something to be avoided or fixed. Certainly many of those on the streets continue to suffer repercussions from mental health policy deregulation in the 80's when the safety net for the most severely mentally ill was destroyed, but there are some who could work their way off the streets but don't. It makes you think.

There's the guy I call Man of LA Mancha who hangs out at a church on Fountain. He wears lots of layers, often a cape, and an awesome Roman centurion helmet like this:



except that his crest is purple I think. I've always wanted to say hi to him. Or there's the roller skating guy on Robertson (which is an upscale shopping area in West Hollywood where the celeb magnet restaurant The Ivy is located. J or I have spotted Jack Nicholson, a Hilton, and Tori Spelling on this street before) who is always shirtless, wears black tights and skates up and down all day long.

My other favorite is a woman who sits at the corner of Franklin and Vermont.



She might not be homeless but there's some pathology there. She is platinum blond, pretty put together, but just hangs out smoking on the corner. Sometimes she has some artwork--maybe hers or other people's--that she appears to be selling, or possibly just displaying, public street gallery style. She seems cool and I want to know her story.

Finally there's the woman at the corner of Formosa and Sunset who, when you're stopped at the stop sign on Formosa, trying to turn onto Sunset, comes and actually taps on the window or bangs on your car door. That's a little unsettling. Tonight she banged pretty hard. I don't have power windows so I feel a little rude not rolling down the window to at least say something like, "people in LA are crazy about having their cars touched, be careful!", but what can you do?

I guess what strikes me most about these particular folks is that they are homeless, or appear to be, but are completely rooted to where they stay or hang out. I've only ever seen these folks in these exact places, these microhabitats, and when they're not there, I really notice. Man of LA Mancha hasn't been around lately. Where could he be? It makes you think, how do you know you're home? What grounds you in a particular place?

The wind is a blowin'

It's Santa Ana wind season and it is really windy tonight. Given that it's always calm and pretty, even wind makes the news. It is really windy. According to the weather channel:

A HIGH WIND WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 3 AM SUNDAY TO 3 PM PDT TUESDAY.

A HIGH WIND WARNING MEANS A HAZARDOUS HIGH WIND EVENT IS EXPECTED OR OCCURRING. SUSTAINED WIND SPEEDS OF AT LEAST 40 MPH OR GUSTS OF 58 MPH OR MORE CAN LEAD TO PROPERTY DAMAGE.

In other news, I got a job! More details to follow. We also got an LCD HDTV today. It's something. I'm watching one of the new Star Wars movies on it, just to see how gorgeous it is. It's a shame the dialogue isn't better; the sound is almost as good as the picture. "Hold me--like you did long ago on Naboo; when there was nothing but our love..." Ugh.

Celebrity sighting

So I was shopping yesterday at the local grocery store, Pavillions/Vons, which is really Safeway, when in the produce section, I spotted Jai Rodriguez from Queer Eye on Bravo. It was close range. He looked good, and is tiny. I almost invited him over, assuming he lives nearby.

I've been away for a while and so I haven't kept up with posting. I'm sorry about that. I'll get on the stick. It's not as if I have a job to distract me, just Ellen on the DVR.

For now, here's a picture of fall color I took last year when Jason and I spent some time at Shiloh and on Skyline Drive:



I understand that no one in the country is experiencing this right now since there's kind of a heat wave on. I post it here as a reminder that if I were back east, fall would be on the way. Instead, in LA, the change of season is marked by the availability of gourds and pumpkins at the grocery store. My front yard looks like this, and it will forever, unless the Mexicans who take care of it forget to water:



Finally, a photo testament (photestament?) to how commercialism has hijacked our holidays. I took this at Target almost a month ago. Here's a fun idea, how about a contest to come up with the best name for the holidays: a mash-up of the October/November/December holiday season. Like the commercial, "ChristmaHannuKwanzaKah", except you can probably be more clever. Like, Day of the Dead Turkey/Savior. Or something. Submit your entries as comments. Winner gets a guaranteed holiday card from me.