This is a reversal. Brick is all about the new. Live in the present, look toward the future. Dwell just a little on what’s past. But the URL from which it sprang, benpollock.com, has been neglected. Oh, I tell myself, it’s an archive. It works well enough. Fast-loading, a reference for me when I am …
Category Archives: Bloggity Blog
Mom’s Chili, If She Was Vegan
Here is Mom’s Spaghetti Sauce, circa 1970s (my sister kept the index card): Brown 1 pound ground beef, drain. Add 1 Tablespoon salt, half an onion chopped, half a stick of butter, 1 (large) can tomatoes cut up, and 1 large can (2 small cans) tomato paste. Cook covered in 275-degree oven 1 1/2 to …
Savor Schnecken Like a Snail
My Reform Jewish family in Fort Smith, Arkansas, had schnecken for breakfast every Christmas. There was no recipe so every December in adulthood I’ve tried to recreate the childhood memory, with cookbooks, recollections of family and improvising. That was starting in my 20s. In my 30s, I also began cooking healthier. These cannot honestly be …
Fried Soup
Copyright 2010 Ben S. Pollock “Fried soup” was what I announced when I brought these to the table, what otherwise are called veggie croquettes, pancakes or burgers. When I try to make veggie burgers they fall apart. These held together and are as good or better than grocery store veggie burgers. The name stems from …
Chair Up
Portable chairs these days are of a kind: metal rods supporting a hammock seat and back, designed to collapse and fit in a tubular cloth bag. It’s been impossible to find those web chairs, strips of woven plastic interlaced on a frame of light aluminum tubing; it just folds for transport. Web chairs are more …
By George
With apologies to George Orwell: Winston gazed up at the enormous face. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark moustache. O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two Victory Gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose, only to …
Mosque, Ow, on the Hudson
Some blasts from the vuvuzela. I used to play instruments, not just blow my own horn. While avoiding graven images, there’s no writ against craven puns. Mosque, ow, on the Hudson? Saying where houses of worship do not belong raises all sorts of red flags, no matter the neighborhood, no matter the religion. How could a …
Vuvuzela Monologues – Ads
Here’s some vuvuzela blasts to advertisements of the you-must-be-kidding sort. Virtually all of these are from the Sunday newspaper coupon sets. Because these go a long way to paying my salary, please buy every one of these. They’re fine products at honest prices. • • • Del Monte has a new campaign for its canned fruits …
Vuvuzela Monologues
As long as soccer’s World Cup has made the vuvuzela stadium noisemaker a common word in America, Brick wants to horn in on its ubiquity for a new series of short takes. Today, it’s skin and drama. • • • Speaking of vuvuzela, one rash has come home to roost, on my left forearm. Until the most …
Ratatouille Not Twee
The Fourth of July calls for red, white and blue. But if it’s independence we’re celebrating, why not red, green, yellow and purple? Ratatouille is a southern European, mid-summer, vegetarian casserole, ideal for when you return from the farmers market with way too much. The chickpeas make this a one-pot meal; bread crumbs are to …