I
was in a real funny mood today. I woke up, sort of cleaned myself and
mostly left on what I had slept in. I looked pretty cool so the joke is
on the rest of the world. Anyway, I had other things on my mind, like
the fact that these two lovely ladies of fashion/life were on my
calendar to shoot today. I've been feeling fairly irreverent of just
about everything lately (for good or ill), and I wanted this attitude to
come through in some solid images. I feel good about them. They look
like mine.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Monday, January 12, 2015
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Thursday, July 17, 2014
warm inside / / cold outside
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
still life #5, pt. II: a recipe for when you've shot meat
1 beef tongue
1 teaspoon salt
1 bay leaf
1 clove garlic
2 onions, preferably sweet
3 carrots
2-3 tablespoons tomato paste
16 oz. mushrooms (bella, something really subtle)
1 bottle wine (Burgundy, Beaujolais, Merlot)
butter as needed
olive oil as needed
salt and pepper to taste
I woke up really late today, having had a beer last night
and an allergy pill around 4 this morning. I knew I had a recently dead heifer’s
tongue wrapped up in plastic inside my refrigerator left over from shooting
last night. Say what you will about the moral quandaries the eating of meat
inspires; wasting a perfectly edible, if awfully recognizable cut of beef because it makes one a bit squeamish is
just no good.
So around 11:30 I put my hair up and strolled into the
kitchen. I grabbed a large stock pot with a heavy bottom and wrangled the
tongue into it. The tongue should not be frozen when you do this. Fill the pot
with enough water to cover the tongue with about 1” of room, add the tea spoon
of salt, 1 clove garlic (halved), 1 onion (quartered), 1 carrot (quartered),
and the bay leaf, and put it on medium heat until boiling. Once boiling, bring
down the heat and let simmer for a couple hours or so. All you’re doing is
cooking the meat and making it easier to remove the skin later, as well as
creating the stock for your stew. (If you’re reading this and think you know a
better way to flavor your stock; have at it. Do what you want.)
This would be a good time to make phone calls to IDES if you
are receiving unemployment benefits. It’s also a good time to brush your teeth,
shower, dress, update your blog, sit on your porch, whatever.
Once a couple of hours have passed and the tongue is cooked,
remove it from the pot and place on a carving board.
At this point I realized a really wanted to do a spin on
beef burgundy but I didn’t have a bottle of wine on hand. I turned the flame
under my stock off and left the house for my local supermarcado. They had
exactly one bottle of $7 merlot, so that’s what’s in this recipe. Ideally, you
want a decent Burgundy that you’d be happy to drink, but, again, do what you
want with what you’ve got.
When I got home I gently warmed up my prized Le Creuset pot
with some butter and olive oil in the bottom. I slowly turned up the heat until
the oil was spitting hot and dumped the meat in. It should sizzle like crazy.
You’re doing this to brown the meat, which gives it a much richer flavor than
simply boiling. Don’t disturb the meat much, just give it a little stir every
few minutes. Put in some salt and pepper.
Once the meat is browned and there’s wonderful bits (the
fond) sticking to the bottom of your pot, pour in about 3 cups of that stock
you’ve been working on for a while now. This will deglaze the pan. Then add the
bottle of wine (minus the half cup or so that you’re reserving for yourself.) Add
a few tablespoons of tomato paste. Add the remaining stock so the mix is about
1 to 1 wine to stock, with maybe a bit more stock.
What you’re looking at now is starting to resemble the stew
you’re going to have in a very short while. Leave it on low heat and ignore it
for now.
Now, pre-heat your oven to 425F. Cut up 2 large carrots and
1 onion into bite-sized pieces. Give them some olive oil and place in a glass
baking dish. Make sure they aren’t crowded so they don’t just steam themselves.
Put this in the oven until the onions are brown and smell like heaven.
While the carrots and onions are roasting, cut your
mushrooms into pieces of a size you’d like in a stew and brown them in batches
so as not to crowd them (THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT.) Brown them by placing them in
a very hot pan (I like my cast iron pan for this, but any high-quality, heavy
bottomed pan will do) with butter and olive oil. (Not just butter; butter
burns. Olive oil fortifies the butter.) Don’t fuss with them. Just let them sit
in the hot oil until they’re brown and then flip them over. Put aside.
Some time has gone by. I’ll say, like, probably 25 minutes
or so, and it’s time to pull out the carrots and onions. Using a soup ladle,
pour several helpings of the wine and stock broth into the dish to deglaze it,
then pour all of the contents of the dish right back into the pot of stew. Then
put the mushrooms you just browned right in there too.
Continue to cook the stew over low heat until you basically
can’t stand it anymore. I’d say it’s finished when you can no longer taste any
alcohol from the wine in the broth. The meat should be soft and very tender,
and the broth should be just a little bit thick. Not thick enough to glaze a
wooden spoon, but not watery either.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Monday, April 28, 2014
Thursday, April 24, 2014
HAPPY SPRING
Happy Spring everyone. It's time for seedlings to grow, and carcases to emerge from the snow. It's going to smell like flowers and rot. Enjoy.
Labels:
banana,
dead flowers,
death,
dirt,
eggs,
fake flowers,
seeds,
skull,
springtime
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
DESIGNER PRARNA MANSUKHANI: harsh light on an object
I enjoy a sense of being unafflicted, the look of perfect ease. I think it's a good look.
This winter was a cruel bitch, though, and maintaining a fragile semblance of serenity proved next to impossible. The deep freeze that kept me from running and imprisoned me in my apartment also seemed to take my face and shove it directly into every one of my insecurities, shortcomings and so on. All the bad shit. Boredom persisted. Frustration, both physical and creative, defined much of my life between December and March.
This all sounds so terrible, but it did force me to grapple with my more destructive, darker instincts, and that was a good thing. My friend Prarna had me shoot some of her pieces in February and last month, and the projects were just the platform I needed to experiment with the part of me that, evidently, wants to shine a harsh light on an object and on a body as an object.
I do have a desire to do this. I admit it. I confess. One of the powers a photographer has is to render what is real and organic and with dimension into something that is only an image. It's a flat thing that, objectively, only offers formal qualities. It's a rectangle. There are colors. There is light and dark. It means nothing on its own.
To point my camera at the accomplished and friendly young woman wearing these clothes and decide, quite consciously, that she will appear only as arms, legs, and a head of hair seems rather, well, awful. Do other photographers feel the twinge of guilt like I do?
Monday, February 10, 2014
Monday, January 6, 2014
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
I'M LOSING A TOENAIL PURSUING A LITTLE PERFECTION
I’m going to just come right out and say it. The crotch of
my winter running pants is, well, kind of crusty.
That, and the nail on my left big toe has been unhappy for quite some time,
since my first half-marathon last spring, in fact, and will be leaving me very
soon. It’s really had enough of this shit.
But I haven’t. I am legitimately gung-ho. A few nights ago I
ran during an epic autumn downpour. I was wearing very fast looking clear
glasses, designed for bike racing. I was not going very fast, but I was going
hard. I’m sure I looked like a big nerd. I battled my way down and then back up
Milwaukee Avenue, dodging construction, pot holes, drunks, the whole bit. I
repeatedly told myself don’t step in the
puddles, you don’t know how deep they are. I was simultaneously thinking what am I doing? Why is this
important to me?
The truth is that I was doing one run in what I aim to be a
streak through the new year. I have to run at least one mile every day to
achieve my goal. I’m about a week in and I’ve already figured a few things out.
First, this is not a good way to train for a race. I happen to have a
half-marathon coming up in March, but will be incorporating real rest days into
my life as that gets closer. Rest days are important.
So why am I doing this? The boring answer is that I need a
physical goal to prevent my winter existence from becoming a horrible, slow
wreck of sunless days and too much beer and sitting around, watching Netflix in
the dark. In my heart, my more elevated ambition is to incorporate some measure
of perfection into my relationship with something, in this case, running. That
would make me feel very good, and I like feeling good, particularly if I can
feel good during the nadir of my 29th Chicago winter.
What are you doing
to feel good during the nadir of another Chicago winter?
Almost a year ago I sat down and wrote an essay about my
relationship with running in which I was really rather hard on myself. When I
read it now, I can tell that it was winter, and I can also tell that I wasn’t
feeling great about my circumstances. I wrote that I had a hard time sticking
with things, and insinuated that I had a lack of follow-through which terrified
me into high-tailing it wherever my little feet would take me.
I wasn’t looking carefully enough at my own life. A year
later I realize that there are actually things I’ve been committed to so completely
that I take them entirely for granted. I’m committed to running, to
photography, and to writing about them both. My devotion to each of these
pursuits, while imperfect, has been utterly intrinsic to my being since
adolescence. For sixteen years I’ve been able to call myself a runner.
Sometimes a fallen one, but I’ve always gotten back on the road.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)












































