La Magnifica Saga di Farina di Franco Pepe

Wednesday afternoon in the kitchen of Chi Spacca in Los Angeles, Franco Pepe, Italy's greatest pizzaiola, asked the staff where was his flour. Chef Ryan DeNicola, chef Joe Tagorda, and general manager Kim "G" Trac, all looked at each other and said "What flour?"

The saga of Franco Pepe's flour - aka farina  - was on. 

(For some background, Franco Pepe who we met at his Pepe in Grani pizzeria in Caiazzo, Campagna, was in California to do four pizza cooking demonstrations, two at A16 in San Francisco, two at Mozza,  This guy is a fanatic, I mean an absolute nut, about his flour. It's his life. Thirteen hours before he cooks pizzas,  he needs to work the flour into dough. The Mozza event, an instant  sellout, was set for 1 p.m. Thursday in Chi Spacca. )

Ok, back to our saga .  

About twenty minutes later, Nancy Silverton texted me.  "Where are you', followed quickly by a "Call me Urgent"  Now, in my interpretation of "Urgent" it's a shooting, an accident. an overdose, a death or at least something bad is about to happen.  But, having been with Nancy Silverton for so long, her meaning of urgent and mine vary quite a bit.  ( Here's my point. less than two minutes ago, she called the house,, this time she said "I've got a bigger problem than yesterday's". - dramatic pause - "I left my lipstick at home.")

So I call her.  "We have a problem," Nancy says. "We might not be able to do the event. Franco Pepe is nauseous."

"Like sick?" What do you mean? Like nervous?"

"I need you to go to Rite Aid and get medication."

"What kind? What do I know about nauseous medication?" ( Of my many faults, nausea is not one of them.).

"Ask the pharmacist." She hangs up. 

I go to Rite Aid, ask the pharmacist and get some Emetrol.

At Mozza I park in the alley and see Franco and his confidant Luigi. Franco is rubbing his stomach. I hand him the medication . He says. "They have lost my farina. I can't go on with this. We must go back to the Caiazzo. Back to Italy. Everything starts with the knowlege of flour."

Luigi, who speak fluent English. explains.somewhat. but is just as grave. "This is bad, We came to America for this." 

I go up in the office. and the tension there is a like a command center for a Delta Force raid on ISIS in Ramadi. The voices are low in decibels, but high in urgency. The man who was supposed to pick up the specially delivered Italian flours at A16 had not picked it up. The flours,  the farina. the only flour Franco Pepe would knead, two 25-kilogram bags, was 400 miles away and it was 5 p.m.,  The mission was clear, get 110.22 pounds of flour to Mozza by midnight.

Kate Green, Liz  "Go Go"  Hong, Nicole White,  Sarah Clarke, and others i'm sure, go into action. with Nancy orchestrating. They find a delivery company that "might" be able to . but at $2,000 up front,  "might"  don't cut it. Go Go finds a company on line that will do it for $500. That turns out to be misleading. We think of who we know in the San Francisco Bay Area. Nicole says "Call you girlfriend Dominique." I do, in the long shot hope she is about to fly down, but she's at Atelier Crenn. We try storied former Pizzeria Manager Arielle Chernin, but she's out partying somewhere.  

Meanwhile, in the Chi Spacca dining room, Franco's stomach has worsened.  Everyone confers. "Go to you hotel and relax," I say. Nancy had arranged for him to stay at the W in Hollywood, while his two assistants and trip arranger Jonathan Goldsmith would stay at her house. But, Franco doesn't want to be apart from his team. . 

He says something to Luigi. "We all need to be together now."

Kim get them an Uber and l meet them to the house.  They sit nervously, refusing my offer of vino rosso. aqua frizzante, and Fritos (Original).  They fidget. They tap their feet like their Philly Joe Jones backboning Coltrane. 

Then, I turned on CNN. The Italians become riveted by the coverage of the latest ISIS shootouts in St. Denis. Paris. Of that woman who reportedly blows herself up. Of threats to Herald Square. Of lost loved ones.  They seem to forget their flour problems in the real problems of the world. 

I text Nancy and Kate Green a photo of them "Nothing like watching Isis to relax people."  More texts, more calls. meanwhile, at A16, owner Shelley Lindgren is on it. She calling friends and employees. She knows the urgency having just seen Franco work his dough at her restaurant. 

She calls a then-un-famous woman who will rise to the occasion. Shelley calls Emily Flannagan, who once worked at Pizzeria Mozza and is now at A16.. 

Emily, who like Brando, is now known by only using one name,  was at home and about to start drinking wine.

"I was just about to have some wine and read a book about wine," said Emily, who clearly seems to have a fixation with wine.. "When Shelley asked me to help her and Franco and Nancy out,  I thought, "Go to Mozza and see Nancy and Franco?  Fuck, yeah."

Back here, we get the word a courier has been recruited. I tell Franco, he stands up and high fives me. 

Still, it was nearing 8 p.m.

At the house, worn out by the ordeal, Franco and his two assistants. go upstairs and pass out. 

At 10 p.m. i gather them up and we go to Osteria Mozza. We eat, but keep checking. "Where's my baby?" Franco asks often, referring to the flour. ."On the way". Who knows though. Maybe with the current state of security getting 110 pound of flour on an airplane will be a problem.   I mean, I  wouldn't let someone on a plane with a 110 pounds of flour.  

Finally Kate Green texts. "The fuckin' flour is on the plane. I need a drink." 

An hour later, Sarah informs us "The Flour has landed", Who is with it, i think. Neal Armstrong?

But, sure enough, just 'bout midnight. Emily Flannagan walks into Osteria Mozza. Franco Pepe gives her the hug of the week.    

The Wrench Laundry, Zultra Exclusive Auto Repair Shop, Opens In San Francisco

The mountain of wealth in the Bay Area reached a new height this week when an auto repair shop opened on San Francisco's elite Nob Hill that requires patrons to reserve two months in advance for tune ups, insists on references and will not work on automobiles valued at less than $200,000.

Dubbed "The Wrench Laundry - an obvious play on words/homage to Napa Valley's revered restaurant The French Laundry - the shop has been already flooded with "reservations" requests and has drawn gawkers - and paparazzi -  up to three deep at its California Street address who are eager to see exotic cars and the celebrities who drive them.

"I saw Jay Leno pull up in his orange McLaren P1," said an excited Doug Zamensky, a Southern California restaurant manager on vacation. "He was very nice."

Other celebrity sightings have included , actor Tom Hanks (Bugatti Type 41 Royale), television journalist Hoda Kotb ( Mercedes 300 SL Gullwing), film mogul George Lucas, (Ferrari F50),  former  NBA great Julius "Dr. J" Erving (Rolls Royce Dawn), painter K.C. "Dutch" Smitherton, (Costin Maserati 450s), and retired British race car driver Mike Hawthorne (D Type Jaguar),   

However, the Wrench Laundry has also drawn several protesters who are decrying that growing gap between the rich and the super rich. "The sheer arrogance of this mechanics shop is just another demoralizing indication of the growing disparity between the super rich and the regular rich," said a lawyer who refused to give his name. "I have a $140,000 Audi R8 and i can't get in." 

Despite the protests, business has been booming since opening Oct. 13. Attempts by our staff to get a reservations (admittedly bogus) were unsuccessful. The Wrench Laundry has taken measure to ensure against such fake attempts, - such as ours  - by requiring potential customers text over a photo of their driver's license along with a photo of themselves in their automobile. 

Approved customers are then emailed a confirmation along with a "menu" . A tune up at the Wrench Laundry can cost $10,000 while a simple alignment run about to $1750. 

Owners and mechanics at the Wrench Laundry refused to be interviewed for this story.

.  

Gordon Parks To Students in Watts - "Nothing Can Stop You"

Published L.A.Times Feb. 28, 1997

Internationally celebrated photojournalist Gordon Parks was on his own at 15, with both his parents dead. Hungry, broke and shivering on a freezing evening in St. Paul, Minn., he confronted a train conductor who had a wad of money. Parks pulled a switchblade.

It was the only time he almost committed a major crime, Parks, 84, told a group of Verbum Dei High School students Thursday in Watts.

"At that moment, in that white man's face, I saw my father's black face," he said. "And I heard my father say, 'What the hell are you doing?' So I looked at the conductor and said: 'You wanna buy a knife?' "

He has inspired generations of African Americans through his photography, writings, movies, music and, perhaps most importantly, his never-say-die spirit.

And that spirit was out in full force Thursday when Parks spoke to students from Verbum Dei High School at the Watts Labor Community Action Committee Center.

"We have brought you history today," said Janine Watkins, the center's special events coordinator. More than 100 students sat in rapt attention as Parks took them through highlights of his life.

For an hour, the dapper former Life magazine photographer delighted the group with his humor, philosophy and tales of growing up black in the Midwest during the Depression.

"If you want to do something, nothing can stop you," said Parks, who wrote and directed feature films such as "Shaft" and "The Learning Tree." "You can do anything you want to do if you want it bad enough."

Parks credited his deeply religious parents with giving him the proper values. In order to provide a skin graft for a young girl who had been badly burned in a house fire, Parks' father, Jackson, donated skin from his back.

Later, someone asked Parks' father if the girl's family had thanked him and sent flowers.

"My father told the man, 'I didn't do it for thanks. I didn't do it for flowers. I did it for the girl.' "

One student asked Parks, who has inspired so many, who was his inspiration. After mentioning his parents again, Parks said his life changed when he viewed Farm Service Administration photographs depicting the devastating effects of the Depression.

"I thought I could show racism the way the FSA showed the Depression," he said.

A short while after seeing those photos, he sold his first photograph to the Washington Post. It showed a black cleaning woman holding a mop and a broom standing before the American flag. Parks compares the shot to Grant Wood's painting "American Gothic." Today, it is Parks' most famous photograph.

In 1949, he became Life's first black staff photographer and traveled the world. One of his most famous articles was a profile of Red Jackson, a Harlem street gang leader with whom he lived for three months. A generation later, Parks' reputation helped him gain access to the Black Panthers.

"Once we were riding around in Berkeley and one of the Panthers had a gun," Parks said. "I told him my 35 [millimeter camera] was more powerful than his 45."

Three weeks later, Parks said, that Panther was dead.

Margret Triplett, an English teacher at all-boys Verbum Dei, said she wanted her class to take away an appreciation for the past.

"He shows that it doesn't matter where you're from, you have an opportunity to move forward," Triplett said.

Derrick Hogan, 13, who appeared somewhat awe-struck by Parks, said: "I learned about history. People think it's bad now, but it was worse back then."

Parks, who is still busy writing and composing and who was honored Thursday by the Director's Guild of America, had high praise for the Watts Labor Action Community Center. In all his travels around the world, he said, he had never seen a place so committed to the youth of the neighborhood.

Wearing a stylish double-breasted blue blazer, silver handkerchief and brown plaid pants, the legendary photojournalist posed for pictures with the group and left the students with one last bit of advice:

"Don't let anybody tell you you can't do something. Be prepared and make yourself so special that they'll have no choice. They'll have to hire you. There is no obstacle you can't overcome. There are no excuses."

Gordon Parks was born in 1912 in Fort Scott, Kansas. He died in 2006 in New York City, The photograph is by Alfred Eisenstaedt, if that means anything to you. 

Dominique Crenn's Cookbook "Atelier Crenn Metamorphosis of Taste" Goes On Sale Tuesday, Nov. 3, Foreward Released Today

(The Following is the foreward for acclaimed San Francisco chef Dominique Crenn's first cookbook, "Atelier Crenn  Metamorphosis of Taste" 

DOMINIQUE CRENN is like a Marvel Super Hero.

If you are familiar with Marvel Super-Heroes, you know they lead two lives. They have their superhero lives where they leap or fly or cling to buildings all over town fighting evil people and saving the world from doom.

And then they have their “regular” life where they look like normal folk and you wouldn’t even know they are anything special. The Incredible Hulk, for example, is Dr. Bruce Banner, a physicist. The Amazing Spiderman is Peter Parker, a student and photographer in his normal life. Thor, the Norse god of thunder and lightning, is Dr. Donald Blake, a respected surgeon.     

And Dominque Crenn, the acclaimed super hero chef is, in her regular life, a cook.

I think in her heart, in that very artistic heart of hers, she might have fun being the superhero chef – who wouldn’t? – but, she is most in her element, most in her purest state of bliss when she is being a cook.

Still, like, all superheroes, it is fun to see the transformation. It’s exciting to see her magically transform from cook to superhero chef.  

I have seen superhero Dominique single-handedly take a celebrity chef-studded food event that was heading toward doldrums and transform it into a joyous, free-spirited party with her super powers of unrestrained spontaneity, mischievousness, merrymaking and beauty.

And I have seen “regular” Dominique inconspicuously walked into my restaurant in Los Angeles, dressed casually and quietly take a seat at the Mozzarella Bar. I’ve seen her ask the server about the dishes like she didn’t know foie gras from chopped liver. I’ve seen her quietly study the plate when it arrived, sniff and slowly taste. A cook still learning. Or at least hoping to learn.

And, to me, that is the mark of the great ones. The chefs, the cooks, who after all the acclaim, all the stars and rave reviews, are still leaning, still searching for flavor. That’s Dominique Crenn.

I first met Dominique Crenn two years ago at a food event in downtown Los Angeles She was sitting at a table with a mutual friend, quietly sipping a glass of white wine. We quickly hit it off, talking about our worlds in the kitchen.

I learned she was, like me, deeply influenced by her father, who you will read about in this book’s opening pages. He was an artist, and I think Dominique is an artist, too. A poet, too.

When you go through this book, I think you will agree. Go to one of the opening chapters, Metamorphosis, and read perhaps the loveliest, most poetic menu ever called “Chef’s Grand Tasting Menu”. Poetic Culinary. Read and you will understand.

But, her food, isn’t about words. It isn’t about looks, though it is certainly fun to behold. Her food is about soul. It is about childhood. It is about passions. But, and this is a giant “but”, it is about deliciousness. Front and center, it is about how damn good her food tastes.

Hey, what did I say?  Dominique Creen might be a super hero chef. But, really, Dominique Crenn is a cook.  

- Nancy Silverton

"Metamorphosis of Taste" by Dominique Crenn goes on sale Tuesday, November 3, 2015.  Get it at your local bookstore. Or get it here.

http://www.amazon.com/Atelier-Crenn-Metamorphosis-Taste-Dominique/dp/0544444671/ref=sr_1_sc_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1446404480&sr=1-1-spell&keywords=dominiique+crenn

"The Corner Joins Mickey Mantle, Julius Caesar, Al Green, Michelangelo, Spirit of St. Louis, John F. Kennedy, Many Other Legends as 14th Best, Mozza Staff Ecstatic

Chefs, sous chefs, line cooks, servers, runners, dishwashers, somms and even owners on "The Corner" were thrilled this week when a rating of restaurants in Los Angeles listed the combined efforts of Pizzeria Mozza, Osteria Mozza and Chi Spacca as the 14th best in the entire city. 

 "You can have your Michelin stars, your Pellegrino 50 Best listing. your Gault Millau 19.5s, I'll take being listed the same as Al Green, Michelangelo and Mickey Mantle any day," said Mozza co-owner and chef Nancy Silverton referring to three other legends who too were listed as 14th best in their fields by various "raters".   "Ever heard of Julius Caesar? 14th." 

Although Osteria Mozza, Pizzeria Mozza and Chi Spacca are three clearly distinctive restaurants, they are so closely associated with each other that the triumvirate were rated as one.   In celebration, The Corner staff sang "Let's Stay Together",  the soul classic by Al Green who was rated the 14th best singer by Rolling Stone magazine.   As the party grew raucous, toasts were made to other legends who were rated 14th best including undefeated heavyweight champion  Rocky Marciano,  ( greatest boxers of all time list), "Some Like It Hot" ( greatest American movies of all time list ) Bob Dylan's 'Blowin' in the Wind' ( greatest songs list) and John F. Kennedy, ( greatest presidents list).

"I love that we were rating as one, unlike some, mutual-wall places that were rated separately," said Chi Spacca general manager Kim "Grumpy" Trac, who, in a rare celebratory mood, fire off several rounds from his Barrett  82A1 50 Cal. sniper rifle.  Trac was Chino Valley Rancher's egged on by Pizzeria Mozza server Juile Burrise who yelled "Ernie Banks wore number 14.. Let's shoot two!"

***  The rating may recall a 2014 L.A. restaurant listing that put Melisse as the 32nd best in the city. Check it :  http://www.krikorianwrites.com/blog/2014/4/25/32-is-the-new-1-melisse-given-same-number-as-koufax-magiclisted-as

Check out some of the other notable 14th bests.

Julius Caesar - rated 14th best general by Paradox Plaza https://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum/index.php?threads/the-top-100-generals-of-history.266934/    (Also spelled as  Cesare)

Mickey Mantle was rated the 14th best baseball player of all time by The Bleacher Report  http://bleacherreport.com/articles/1977372-the-100-greatest-mlb-players-of-all-time/page/48

"Some Like It Hot" - rated 14th best American movie of all time by the AFI-  http://www.afi.com/100years/movies.aspx

Rocky Mariciano - rated 14th best boxer of all time by ESPN http://sports.espn.go.com/sports/boxing/greatest/featureVideo?page=greatest1120

 "Blowin in the Wind" by Bob Dylan rated 14th best song of all time by Rolling Stone - http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/the-500-greatest-songs-of-all-time-20110407/bob-dylan-blowin-in-the-wind-20110517

John F. Kennedy was rated 14th best president by the  American Political Science Association https://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/monkey-cage/wp/2015/02/16/new-ranking-of-u-s-presidents-puts-lincoln-1-obama-18-kennedy-judged-most-over-rated/

The "Spirit of St. Louis"  was rated 14th most important airplane of all time, ( Charles Lindburgh flew across the Atlantic in this plane ) http://www.popularmechanics.com/flight/g2142/the-30-most-important-airplanes-of-all-time/

Al Green     http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/100-greatest-singers-of-all-time-19691231/robert-plant-20101202 

Michelangelo Buonarrotti -  rated the 14th greatest painter of all time  http://www.theartwolf.com/articles/most-important-painters.htm

"One Flew Over The Cookoo's Nest"  by Ken Kesey was ranked the 14th best novel of all time by Good Reads  http://www.goodreads.com/list/show/2681.Time_Magazine_s_All_Time_100_Novels

One?  Shit, we've all flew over that nest at some point . Me ? I'm going over tonight. 

14 best joke,  Some website      " A woman has twins, and gives them up for adoption. One goes to a family in Egypt and is named "Amal". The other goes to a family in Spain, who name him "Juan". Years later Juan sends a picture of himself to his mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wished she also had a picture of Amal. Her husband responds: "They're twins. If you've seen Juan, you've seen Amal."

Washington D.C. Stunner; Nancy Silverton Awards "5 Nods" To A Chicken Salad By Former White House Sous Chef Frank Ruta

Since its creation during the early Ming Dynasty in 1369 at Emperor Hongwu's temple in Nanjing, no chicken salad - Chinese, Caesar or not - has ever been awarded what is considered to be the "Supreme Royale Accolade". Until now.

Just moments ago , in the Georgetown sector of Washington, D.C., a chicken salad was awarded an unheard of ( for a salad) "5 Nods" from Nancy Silverton, the creator of the now-worldwide used Nodding System. (* For more on the system see below..

Silverton, in a classic act of serendipity, stumbled on The Grill Room, located in the Capella Hotel, an hour ago after being revolted by the two M Street lunch places suggested by this reporter. She turned off of M Street and down 31st Street near a canal and found The Grill Room.

Immediately, she knew she was in the right place when she spotted Larry Stone , one of America's most renowned sommeliers, hosting a wine lunch  Passing on invite to join that lengthy lunch, Silverton opted for a seat at an outside  table along the canal and perused the menu by chef Frank Ruta, a former White House executive sous chef who cooked for Carter, Reagan and the first Bush, (who,  looking back, seems like a titan compared to the second one.)

She ordered the chicken salad and a glass of Tempranillo. "Whenever I go to restaurant I don't know, especially at a hotel, I play it safe and go directly to a chicken Caesar," said Silverton.  "How bad can it be? Though, I'll say, I've had some awful, dried-out, over-dressed versions.  But, still, it is my hotel restaurant 'go to' order."   

This is how it is described on the menu.  Grilled Chicken Breast “Caesar”  -Romaine wedge, crispy fried lemons and capers, reggiano cheese crostini. $20.

Silverton was taken aback by the chicken salad. "It was outstanding.  The chicken was plump and juicy and probably had been in a flavorful brine. The romaine was perfectly dressed  The fried capers and lemons excellent."

Silverton was so impressed she issued the following press release 

"Since eating that salad, I have changed my mind and I'll be voting for Frank Ruta for president and hoping he selects Hillary to be his VP," said Silverton "I'm sure he's a better cook than her."

Here's is the Washington Post review of the Grill by Tom Sietsema  https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/food/the-grill-room-review-a-new-reason-to-go-thanks-to-frank-ruta-and-co/2015/04/21/d9f420a2-db07-11e4-ba28-f2a685dc7f89_story.html

  * The Nancy Nod was created in the mid 2010s to counter the overuse - and hence watering-down - of superlatives. By "Nodding" instead of talking, Silverton  - and now billions of others - express their satisfaction. A single nod is a polite gesture that acknowledges food is consumed and the eater is grateful for being nourished and kept from hunger. .  Above one nod, indicates a level of satisfaction up until a redline of Five Nods. .(WARNING  Above five nods could indicate an actual "nodding" is occurring and precautions should be taken to avoid said person from falling over )  

A gelato was the first-ever food to be awarded Five Nods. See this story. 

http://www.krikorianwrites.com/blog/2014/1/12/nw6s2jk2qectcua6hpzok65h65cc2n

The sesame loaf at Tartine Bakery in San Francisco once received Five Nods. See here.

http://www.krikorianwrites.com/blog/2014/4/8/nancy-silverton-awards-coveted-5-nods-to-tartine-sesame-loaf

In addition, the 2015 McLaren P1, the 2015 LaFerrari, and the  Krikorian Writes website have all been awarded Five Nods

Editors NOTE - For the record, Somm Stone gave Silverton a second - and free - glass of red wine from Quintessa, one of the properties he manages on the Silverado Trail in Napa Valley. The wine had no affect on the 5 Nod rating.  

Nancy Silverton Has A Cold

Nancy Silverton, holding a glass of Aglianico del Vulture  in one hand and IPhone 6 in the other, stood in a dark corner of the owner's parking lot of Complesso Mozza.  Two young chefs - Ryan Vito DeNicola and Tiffany Fox -  waited for her to say something they could understand, her voice a barely audible slur, like Brando toward the end.   But, she said nothing they could grasp. She had been silent during much of the evening, except now where she seemed even more distant speaking than not, staring out through the semidarkness into the alley where idled her midnight blue Porsche from which Coltane and Tyner joyously engulfed "But Not For Me"  The young chefs knew - as did some of Silverton's employees who stood nearby - that it was a bad idea to force conversation upon her when she was in this mood of sullen silence, a mood as rare as a full moonset during her nine-year reign at Mozza. 

Silverton had been working on a book she could not wait to finish;  she was tired of all the publicity attached to her dating a gang reporter; she was weary of traveling - having hours earlier returned from West Carolina - and stressing on an upcoming trip - a day in D.C and three in N. Y. C.  - before heading to somewhere in the Mid East for a pop up; she was tried of being recognized by strangers who saw her on the PBS show "I'll Have What Phil's Having", and was even concerned that very show could overrun her small Umbrian summer getaway with tourists;, she was tired of getting people reservations;, she so worn out that her body was - so very uncharacteristically  - reacting with ache. Silverton was ill. She was the victim of an ailment so common that most people would consider it trivial. But when it gets to Silverton it can plunge her into a state of disbelief, like the state of the confusion a Bengal tiger must have when confined to a cage. 

Nancy Silverton had a cold.

Silverton with a cold is Picasso without paint, LaFerrari without fuel, Seabiscuit without a racetrack-- only worse. For the common cold robs Silverton of that uninsurable jewel, her voice, cutting into the core of her confidence, and it affects not only her own psyche but also seems to cause a kind of psychosomatic nasal drip within dozens of people who work for her, drink with her, worship her, depend on her for their own welfare and stability. 

Silverton with a cold is cause for concern. Mere mortals get colds and are left to fend for themselves to get through the annoyance. Silverton gets visitors like she has just had open heart surgery. Friends and family - bordering on somber -arrive at her house, some - like writer Margy Rochlin - so shaken they retreat to the back yard to escape the strange sight of a docile Silverton. Her daughter Vanessa Silverton-Peel arrives and glares at me with a "What have you done to my mother?" look. They don't stay long. 

For me, however, Silverton with a cold is a wonderful thing. She stays home this past weekend.  I get food from Chi Spacca on Friday night  ( shoulder lamb shouler chops with Jimmy Nardello peppers and broccolini) and from Pizzeria Mozza on Saturday night ( the new Jimmy Nardello pizza, meatballs and a Trecolre salad) and we dine at home.  And, if anyone needed any proof she was actually sick, I can attest that she passes on the red wine and goes for a diet Dr. Pepper. 

We even watched television together. . I had been hooked on Veena Sud's "the Killing" and was 17 episodes in when Nancy got sick. I weakly offer to start from the beginning, but she says no, If you have ever had to explain a complicated story that is a season and a half in to someone, you will know what i went through. Nancy asked so many question that I stopped the show so much that one 42 minute episode took one hour and 15 minutes. Still, I'd like to tell Veena Sud one day that Sunday night. (possible Spoiler ) as we were going to bed, Nancy said "Looks like Gwen did it." 

So. Nancy Silverton has a cold. When she coughs, - and she coughed so much at a visit to Urgent Care ( near Bogie's Liquors) that her Armenian Greek doctor said her throat looked "like a cobblestone street" - it pains me, too. I lie awake with her.  

I hope Nancy Silverton gets over this cold. But, not too quickly .  

###

This story is a straight out robbery of a classic piece of journalism by Gay Talese that ran in Esquire. 

Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" ran in April 1966 and became one of the most celebrated magazine stories ever published, a pioneering example of what came to be called New Journalism -- a work of rigorously faithful fact enlivened with the kind of vivid storytelling that had previously been reserved for fiction.

http://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a638/esq1003-oct-sinatra-rev/

Nancy Silverton Has A Cold

Nancy Silverton, holding a glass of Aglianico del Vulture  in one hand and IPhone 6 in the other, stood in a dark corner of the owner's parking lot of Complesso Mozza.  Two young chefs - Ryan Vito DeNicola and Tiffany Fox -  waited for her to say something they could understand, her voice a barely audible slur, like Brando toward the end.   But, she said nothing they could grasp. She had been silent during much of the evening, except now where she seemed even more distant speaking than not, staring out through the semidarkness into the alley where idled her midnight blue Porsche from which Coltane and Tyner joyously engulfed "But Not For Me"  The young chefs knew - as did some of Silverton's employees who stood nearby - that it was a bad idea to force conversation upon her when she was in this mood of sullen silence, a mood as rare as a full moonset during her nine-year reign at Mozza. 

Silverton had been working on a book she could not wait to finish;  she was tired of all the publicity attached to her dating a gang reporter; she was weary of traveling - having hours earlier returned from West Carolina - and stressing on an upcoming trip - a day in D.C and three in N. Y. C.  - before heading to somewhere in the Mid East for a pop up; she was tried of being recognized by strangers who saw her on the PBS show "I'll Have What Phil's Having", and was even concerned that very show could overrun her small Umbrian summer getaway with tourists;, she was tired of getting people reservations;, she so worn out that her body was - so very uncharacteristically  - reacting with ache. Silverton was ill. She was the victim of an ailment so common that most people would consider it trivial. But when it gets to Silverton it can plunge her into a state of disbelief, like the state of confusion a Bengal tiger must have when confined to a cage. Nancy Silverton had a cold.

Silverton with a cold is Picasso without paint, LaFerrari without fuel, Seabiscuit without a racetrack-- only worse. For the common cold robs Silverton of that uninsurable jewel, her voice, cutting into the core of her confidence, and it affects not only her own psyche but also seems to cause a kind of psychosomatic nasal drip within dozens of people who work for her, drink with her, worship her, depend on her for their own welfare and stability. 

Silverton with a cold is cause for concern. Mere mortals get colds and are left to fend for themselves to get through the annoyance. Silverton gets visitors like she has just had open heart surgery. Friends and family - bordering on somber -arrive at her house, some - like writer Margy Rochlin - so shaken they retreat to the back yard to escape the strange sight of a docile Silverton. Her daughter Vanessa Silverton-Peel arrives and glares at me with a "What have you done to my mother?" look. They don't stay long. 

For me, however, Silverton with a cold is a wonderful thing. She stays home this past weekend.  I get food from Chi Spacca on Friday night  ( shoulder lamb shouler chops with Jimmy Nardello peppers and broccolini) and from Pizzeria Mozza on Saturday night ( the new Jimmy Nardello pizza, meatballs and a Trecolre salad) and we dine at home.  And, if anyone needed any proof she was actually sick, I can attest that she passes on the red wine and goes for a diet Dr. Pepper. 

We even watched television together. . I had been hooked on Veena Sud's "the Killing" and was 17 episodes in when Nancy got sick. I weakly offer to start from the beginning, but she says no, If you have ever had to explain a complicated story that is a season and a half in to someone, you will know what i went through. Nancy asked so many question that I stopped the show so much that one 42 minute episode took one hour and 15 minutes. Still, I'd like to tell Veena Sud one day that Sunday night. (possible Spoiler ) as we were going to bed, Nancy said "Looks like Gwen did it." 

So. Nancy Silverton has a cold. When she coughs, - and she coughed so much at a visit to Urgent Care ( near Bogie's Liquors) that her Armenian Greek doctor said her throat looked "like a cobblestone street" - it pains me, too. I lie awake with her.  

So I hope Nancy Silverton gets over this cold. But, not too quickly .  

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This story is a straight out robbery of a classic piece of journalism by Gay Talese that ran in Esquire. 

Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" ran in April 1966 and became one of the most celebrated magazine stories ever published, a pioneering example of what came to be called New Journalism -- a work of rigorously faithful fact enlivened with the kind of vivid storytelling that had previously been reserved for fiction.

http://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a638/esq1003-oct-sinatra-rev/

A 2008 Lakers Team Dinner at Osteria Mozza; "But, the Coolest One was Lamar Odom."

MAY 7, 2008, reprinted from the L.A. Weekly

Around 7:30 on Friday night, the crew at the EZ Lube on Highland and Melrose lined up and started cheering. Three of them pulled out cameras and started taking shots like paparazzi. A fleet of SUVs filled with very tall men had pulled up across the street at Osteria Mozza to have a dinner in the private dining room. Somehow word had leaked out. “My guys were very excited,” said EZ Lube’s manager.

Celebrity sightings at Osteria and Pizzeria Mozza occur almost daily and rarely cause a stir. But this was different. The Lakers were having a team dinner.

“Luke Walton called me and said the team wanted to get together and watch the Jazz-Rockets game,” said John Black, vice president of public relations for the Lakers, who swept the Denver Nuggets in the first round of the NBA Playoffs and wanted to get a good look at their next opponents, either the Utah Jazz or the Houston Rockets. Black, who claims to eat out 350 times a year and is an expert on the Los Angeles restaurant scene, recommended Mozza’s private dining room and made sure a huge flat-screen TV would be available for the team.

Around 8 o’clock, I arrived at the restaurant with Max, 15, a Phoenix Suns follower, and Oliver, 14, a die-hard Lakers fan, who can give you stats on the whole team. Outside, near the parking valet, a kid about 3 feet tall and wearing a Pau Gasol jersey was holding a basketball signed by many of the Lakers. We were at the right place.

Oliver’s mother is Mozza owner Nancy Silverton, so I took Max and Oliver into the private dining room through the kitchen entrance — and there they were, your Los Angeles Lakers. The game was on the screen and you could have heard a linguini drop, it was so quiet. Everyone was studying the game; nobody was talking. Except one guy. Kobe Bryant’s security guard. He came up and "suggested" we leave.. “The Lakers are watching the game.” The guy was about 5 feet 9 — no taller than I am — but with arms like the trunk of the General Grant Christmas tree at Kings Canyon National Park. He wasn’t mean, but he was firm. Max and Oliver gave me a look that said, “Let’s just go.” The Lakers, I explained to the disappointed kids back in the main dining room, were working. Studying.

About five minutes later, the security guy came out and said, “When the game is over, the team would be glad to meet the boys.”

I took the guys to a friend’s house to watch the game, but with the Jazz up by something like 20 points we headed again to Mozza and found ourselves back in the same private dining room we’d been kicked out of an hour before. This time, the bodyguard was a sweetheart and got all of the Lakers, no longer in study mode, to come by and shake Oliver’s and Max’s hands and sign a team picture. Kobe, who got word during dinner that he would likely win this year’s MVP award, was nice. Derek Fisher was nice. But the coolest one was Lamar Odom, who was completely sincere when he was talking to the kids.

When they finished their dinner, the Lakers, who had entered the restaurant silently through a side entrance, left publicly amid the chaos of a packed dining room. The restaurant went still. People couldn’t take their eyes off the team as the players made their exit.

In case you’re wondering, MVP Kobe paid for dinner, and yes, he left an awesome tip.