If you’re squeamish in the slightest about sardines—if a high omega 3 content, a healthy dose of vitamin D and a minuscule mercury level don’t persuade you— you could make this sardine pâté, which is milder by far, than eating them straight from the can.
Everyone, if you probe deeply enough, has a sardine story, and they’re not all pretty. Maybe yours is the time you opened a can for your father in law and the oil spurted down his new trousers. You packed a can in your luggage on a flight and it burst open and soiled your only pair of clean underwear. The pull clip came off and you had to smash the can open with a rock. But there are good tales too and here’s mine. Continue reading “Sardine Pâté”
Brother Dez skyped me from his London kitchen the other day. He said to tune in to the Iggy Pop radio hour on BBC Radio 6. It was an all Bowie show. As I was pulling it up I got to thinking about David Bowie and Iggy Pop, who arguable wrote the greatist lyric in the history of rock and roll, “I wanna be your dog.” Still relevant today in these friendliest of dog times. Then, a long buried Bowie lyric from his album, Life on Mars, came into my head, “ ’cause Lennon’s on sale again,” but which I first misheard as “There’s lemons on sale again.” Got me thinking.
Iggy went through some fast times in his youth. Take at look at his face. Those wizened lines tell a tale, like lizard tracks in the sand. He lived hard, he got sick — but he cured and got the gig with Radio 6. I believe he sticks to one glass of Bordeaux Supérieor a day these days. He recently posed for a life drawing class at the Brooklyn Museum. Does laps in his pool most mornings in his house. Calls in the show from there. Continue reading “The Lemon Cure”