New Greens

I'd never heard of minutina till I saw it at the
Two Guys from Woodbridge's stand at the Union Square greenmarket on a recent Saturday. With long, feathery leaves emerging from fat rootballs, it was irresistible. I bought a bunch and took it home.

Meanwhile, at another stand, I'd bought, also for the first time, a bunch of chickweed. After being told it was usually used in salads, I'd asked about whether it could be a substitute a kale or spinach in a stew. "Certainly," replied the boss of the stand.

Now, with a giant bunch of minutina in my bag, I figured I might as well use both greens when I made caldo verde that night.

But first I tasted both greens--found them mild and wild, with just a bit of tang, crunchy, and grassy.



Above: minutina, which weighed more than a pound, including the rootball. Below: chickweed, which weighed a bit less.



After the beans, chorizo, and onions had cooked a while, I added about a third of the chickweed (below), and stirred it in.



Next, I broke off about a third of the minutina leaves and tore them into thirds, then added them to the soup. (below).





Once I'd stirred in the minutina (above), it looked as if the soup might like more greens, so I added first more chickweed (below):



And then more minutina, which looked to me like Spanish moss, when I lifted a ladle to fill my bowl.




As it turns out, this wasn't my first taste of minutina. A couple of years ago, I'd bought a smaller bunch from a different vendor at the green market, who didn't know its name but said it tasted like spinach. I sauteed it in olive oil and garlic and folded it into an omelet (see my earlier post: Mystery Green).

Bidder 70

"Sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul," said Tim DeChristopher, quoting Edward Abbey.

On December 19, 2008, in Salt Lake City, Utah, at a federal auction of oil and gas leases during the lame duck days of the Bush administration, DeChristopher, an economics student, turned his sentiment into action. Rather than joining the protest outside the auction--of parcels of public lands near Arches and Canyonlands National Parks and other sensitive areas--he entered the auction, and began bidding. By the time the auction was halted, he'd won parcels with bids amounting to $1.7 million--and bid up the prices of the rest.

The Obama administration eventually invalidated the auction, but nonetheless chose to prosecute DeChristopher.

Bidder 70, produced and directed by Beth and George Gage, tells DeChristopher's story, from his extraordinary action to his trial and its aftermath, and his influence on others, including the organization he co-founded, Peaceful Uprising--"committed to defending a livable future through empowering nonviolent action".

It's one of the most powerful, riveting, and potentially life-changing documentaries I've seen, and a labor of love on the part of the filmmakers.

You have till Thursday, May 23, to see Bidder 70 at the Quad in New York City.

After that, go to:


http://www.bidder70film.com/

Next on my list. . . .

It's taken a mere decade, but Norman Spinrad's He Walked Among Us, first published in France, is finally available in an English hardcover from Tor (for a while Spinrad offered it on his website as a download). Jim just finished it, and I've got it--can't wait.

For reviews and other information (including Spinrad's forthcoming work), see

http://www.sff.net/people/normanspinrad/

Script First

Jack Webb may have been one of the world's most wooden actors, but as director of Pete Kelly's Blues, he had some pretty cool moves. One memorable shot early on is from inside a pizza oven, beginning as a pie is pulled out, flames coyly dancing at the left of the Cinemascope frame--as if from the point-of-view of the alchemy that turns dough into bread (or weaklings into toughs). No wonder Martin Scorsese thought highly enough of the film to add it to his collection.

But my favorite moment in this atmospheric film has nothing to do with camera moves or plot twists or acting moments. It's part of the credits. They begin with Warner Bros. (of course) and Webb--but as actor, not director. No announcement of "a Jack Webb film" or anything else of that ilk. Instead, right after "Jack Webb as Pete Kelly," come words to warm a writer's heart: "in a screenplay by Richard L. Breen." Not "in a film by Jack Webb" or "in a Mark VII Production."

It's a rare acknowledgment that the script comes first, that without it there would be no film: no producing, directing gripping, gaffing, editing, and photographing; no roles for Janet Leigh, Peggy Lee, Lee Marvin, and their fellows.

They don't make 'em like that anymore, but I'd sure like to see somebody try. Maybe one of these days, an innovative director will relinquish the usual vainglorious opening credit, and put the script first again.

Wait, Later This Will Be Nothing

Today I had a half hour or so between two nearby appointments, so I headed to the Museum of Modern Art, showed my card, escalated to the second floor, and turned into the first show I noticed: Wait, Later This Will be Nothing, Editions by the late, great Dieter Roth. It was a revelation. I'd seen paintings of Roth's in galleries and museums over the years, but wasn't familiar with his prints, books, and multiples. Here they were in abundance: Intricate, hypnotic, black-and-white prints--in the vanguard of op art. Books made from discarded newspapers. "Literary sausages" in which ground-up books Roth loved or loathed were used as a meat substitute combined with traditional ingredients and sheathed in traditional casing. Prints including foodstuffs like cheese or chocolate that the artist intended to decay with time but had been well covered with glass. A series of gorgeous, haunting works, large and small, based on a postcard of Piccadilly Circus.

My time ran out halfway through the show, but I'll be back.

Soon.


http://www.moma.org/interactives/exhibitions/2013/dieter_roth/

Triassic Parq

A favorable, starred review in Time Out called this show "blissfully silly." Blissful, yes, and silly, for sure--but that description doesn't really do justice to Triassic Parq. More than just a spoof of that movie with a similar name, it's a witty, bawdy satire whose targets include science, religion, and sex, and whose weapons include over-the-top, gender-bending performances.

Don't miss it--especially if you're a fan of The Book of Mormon.

Soho Playhouse
15 Vandam Street

www.triassicparq.com

The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs

Mike's Daisey's monologue about his investigation into the human cost of Apple's electronics is an extraordinary show that can change the way its audiences think about the economic choices they make. But Daisey's aim is to get us to do more than just think.

Seeing him perform The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs is the first step. We accept what he calls his virus, and now we need to pass it on.

THE REST OF THE STORY IS IN YOUR HANDS reads the headline of the handout audience members are offered on the way out of the show, urging us to join the struggle to get Apple and others to do right by their workers.

"Change is possible," Daisey writes. "You can speak. You can tell others this story . . . ." He gives us the email address for Apple CEO Tim Cook. Here's what I wrote to him:

Dear Mr. Cook:

From Mike Daisey's show and New York Times reports, I've been shocked to learn the details of just how abused and underpaid makers of Apple's electronic devices are--and about Apple's long history of irresponsible compliance with this exploitation.

I realize that the problem isn't just with Apple's products. But as a company whose consumers are passionate about its products and loyal to its brand, Apple is in a position to be a leader in transforming the way electronics are made.

I urge Apple to become responsible for ensuring that its suppliers pay their workers well and institute safe and humane working conditions.

As a shareholder, rather than getting a 5% dividend, I would willingly see that money go to Apple's workers and to improving the conditions in which they work. With 60% profits and your huge cash reserves, Apple has the wherewithal to easily accomplish this.

And becoming a symbol of a solution rather than of a huge global labor problem could only enhance Apple's reputation.

* * *

Mike Daisey is a brilliant performer, and if you haven't yet seen The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs, playing through March 18 at the Public Theater in New York City, you should. See publictheater.org

But you can also download the transcript of the show for free at

http://mikedaisey.blogspot.com/p/monologues.html

Read it--and spread the virus.