Louie

I’ve been sitting here long enough to run the serious risk of merging permanently with my surroundings. I move seamlessly between flora and fauna. Time passes, but I do not feel the passage of time. Damn, it must be the Hurricanes again. After a morning spent crashing the waves with my son, I’m now occupying a more comfortable and less physically demanding position – reclining, on my rataan throne, at the Hurricane Bar. Through the leafy undergrowth of the trees surrounding the patio, a small green lizard is darting back and forth. He stops and stare at me for a moment. Too big to be food he thinks. Too immobile to be a threat he surmises. The lizard moves on doing whatever it is lizards do in the heat of the afternoon. I resign myself to the fact that I’m not even a danger to five inch long reptiles, and order another Hurricane from the bar.

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The whole idea that gave birth to the Supper Club was dinner shouldn’t have to be complicated. A quick check of respective kitchen inventories, a few recipes culled from memory or cookbooks at hand, and a trip to the grocery or Farmer’s Market for the rest. Time to table is kept to a minimum, and Saturday night was a perfect example.

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The bike path through the center of Hilton Head Island, leading to The Black Marlin Bayside Grill at the Palmetto Bay Marina.

“He was a fugitive with a pseudo-name. Lost his mind in a hurricane.”
Jimmy Buffett “Nobody Speaks to the Captain”

It’s 1:30pm and I’m two hurricane’s into a Sunday lunch of fried eggs, smoked bacon and cheddar cheese on a toasted hoagie roll, what the restaurant calls a McMarlin Sandwich. While I could do without the McD’s reference, whatever the name it is a mountain of artery clogging scrumptiousness. However, while the food at the Black Marlin Bayside Grill is always fantastic, I’m here for the drinks.

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Homecoming, of a sort

May 30, 2009

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“Hit somebody! It rang in his ears
Blood on the ice ran down through the years.”

Hit Somebody (The Hockey Song) – Warren Zevon

For the second year in a row I’ll watch the Detriot Red Wings and Pittsburg Penguins battle for the Stanley Cup from the comfort of The Lodge in Hilton Head, South Carolina. For those of you who have been reading this blog from the beginning, you may remember me extolling the many virtues (or lack thereof) of The Lodge during last year’s vacation (click here to read An Evening at “The Lodge”). Even before I leave Lexington in the wee hours of tomorrow morning, my Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday nights appear to be well planned around Games 1 through 4. Hell, truth be told, I was planning on going to The Lodge anyway.

When we’re young vacation is all about new experiences, doing things and going places we haven’t been before. I’ve come to realize as we grow older it is far too easy to allow routine to set in and just do the same things we’ve always done.

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Click here to read about the party that almost wasn’t.

More pictures from our annual tailgate party at the High Hope Steeplechase in Lexington. The pictures are from Lori Back, Sarah Speakes and yours truly.

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Mardi Gras in May Tailgate Party - Winner "Best Food" 2009 High Hope Steeplechase

Mardi Gras in May Tailgate Party - Winner "Best Food" 2009 High Hope Steeplechase

Click here for more pictures from this year’s High Hope Steeplechase Tailgate Party.

Finally, it’s over. Not just the tailgate party itself, but the whole start to finish preparation, execution and clean-up. The kitchen has begun to resemble a kitchen again instead of a war zone. I can actually see inside of the refrigerator. There is space in my freezer. And most importantly, when I came home last night there was absolutely nothing that I needed to do. The nap I chose to take in lieu of making catering plans, felt really nice. The announcement that we had won the “Best Food” award came in mid afternoon. Many high fives were exchanged, hugs were given, toasts were made. The party had, for months, started to resemble a cat slowing working it’s way through it’s nine lives.

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The Derby Day Sleeper cocktail went over so well we decided to create another concoction for this afternoon’s running of the Preakness. In addition to watching the racing at Pimlico today, we are neck deep in preparations for tomorrow’s 43rd running of the High Hope Steeplechase in Lexington.

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It has been said the Kentucky Derby is the most difficult horse race to handicap. It is a day where it is not always a good thing to be the favorite. It’s a good day for a sleeper.

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The Trial Run

April 20, 2009

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When discussing food or cooking in general, the conversation and focus of attention is usually on the food itself – it’s taste and presentation – as it rightly should be. But there is another extraordinary side to any good meal, particularly one that involves multiple courses or, even more remarkably, one that has to be prepared in one place then transported and finished in another. When hosting a large event, especially one that has been ongoing for almost a decade, people tend to come hungry and with certain preconceived notions about how it’s all going to look, feel and taste. Newcomers have heard the stories, like “Oh you should have been here two years and tried the …” or even more flattering “We’re still raving about last year when you cooked…”. That’s why you do it, why you put the effort into it, why you foot the bill. Throwing it all together at the last minute would be unthinkable. More than your own reputation is at stake, you have the expectations of your friends to live up to. Being barely successful would equal failure. The only option is to consistently, year in and year out, raise the bar. In the end, it all comes down to logistics and timing.

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More serious posts are forthcoming, but for tonight, here are a few random thoughts.

Spring is finally here – sort of. In spite of the fact that the first week of April brought 2 days of snow flurries, it seems everyone is starting to come out of hibernation. The crowd at the food shoppes around town have started to pick up, the restaurant patios have been set for the season, and the opening week crowd at Keeneland certainly drove hungry race enthusiasts to enjoy everything Lexington has to offer. The Farmer’s Market opened yesterday. As for me, I have more or less recovered from hosting two dinner parties in a span of fourteen days and am now throwing myself whole heartily into the final month of prep work for the High Hope Steeplechase. Excursions and culinary adventures will now pick up speed and frequency, as this weekend surely demonstrated.

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