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In Fort Erie, Canada, where I go once a month to deposit a check, there’s a little french fry truck that I always hit up for a medium w/ketchup salt and vinegar. Eli and Nan came this time and got their fry on. Next time I have to remember to get a small, not a medium, for each of them as they left half uneaten. Faces covered in ketchup, had to strip Nan down and wash her off as she got it all over her clothes.

1. Napoleon Dynamite
2. Apocalypto
3. Alien
4. Lilo and Stitch
5. Blue Velvet
6. The Matrix

[more to come]

I seriously believe Makhani sauce is the best stuff you can eat on this planet. But it is incredibly hard to make. At least, that’s been my impression to date. I spent an afternoon constructing something verbatum from some website, and it sucked so bad I tossed the entire batch.

So I’m done trying to make it. Anyone know where I can buy a TUB of the stuff??

I often think of Picasso’s famous quote, “Art is the sum of my destructions”. I’ve always gotten that. Whenever I make art, I feel like the second I’m close to that perfect line, shade, shape or texture, there’s all this pressure that I’m gonna fuck up.

When that happens, I imagine a little Picasso sitting on my shoulder, going “So why not fuck up royally?” And I give in. It’s easy, freeing, and I embrace the fuckup. I slash the pen, gouge the surface, rip it all up.

It never quite works, though. More often than not, I end up with a pile of mess. I chastise myself for wasting my time, paint, paper, canvas. I feel like a failure in little Picasso’s eyes. “You didn’t fuck up hard enough” I can hear him saying.

The little voice is easy to dismiss. Of course I can make something nice. Not destroy it. Nurture it, coax it along in its lousy, spineless, eager-to-please formulaic predictability. Eventually I’ll end up with something having at least a few people gazing, stoking my ego-fires.

But the best stuff I’ve always made happens when I give in. The only way to find that thing, the thing I want to leave behind, is to fuck up. Intentionally. Destroy that clean line, that perfect texture, that awesome font. Force myself to do it again, but better this time. And being aware of my doing it.

Best month of the year. Each day is wide open. Seems like this June stretches on forever.

This recipe is easy and quick, and a good way to feed a pile of people.

Ingredients

• 1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breast
• 1 bunch asparagus
• 1 lb. penne pasta
• 1 cup flour
• 1 tbsp. black pepper
• 1 tsp. salt
• 1 lemon, juiced
• 2 tbsp. capers
• 1 cup white wine
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 1 stick butter (8 tbsp.)
• 1 tbsp. olive oil
• 1 onion or 2 shallots diced
• Grated parmesan cheese to taste

Directions

1. Fill a large pot halfway up with water. Add salt to taste. Cover and bring to a boil. Add penne and cook al dente.
2. Cut or break off tough ends of asparagus. Cut into angled slices, 3 or 4 per stalk, so they are shaped like the penne.
3. Dice up the onion.
4. Cut the chicken breast into thin, flat pieces. Try to cut crossways as many times as you can to get wide, long but thin slices. I can usually get at least five from each breast. It helps if the chicken is partially frozen.
5. Add 1/2 cup flour, salt and pepper to a large bowl and stir.
6. Dredge chicken slices in flour mixture until coated.
7. In a large pan, turn to medium-high and add olive oil. Once that’s hot, swirl in 2 tbsp. butter.
8. When butter is melted, add chicken slices in a single layer, covering the entire surface of the pan.
9. Brown for 3-4 minutes, turn and repeat.
10. Set aside browned slices and repeat until all chicken has been nicely browned.
11. Add 2 tbsp. butter to pan. Add onions/shallots and saute until soft. The pan should be really hot.
12. Pour in white wine to deglaze pan, scraping browned bits up.
13. Add the chicken broth and remaining butter.
14. Whisk in remaining flour. Add water/wine/butter/broth to build up a nice sauce.
15. Stir in the chicken, asparagus, and capers. Whisk remaining flour into chicken broth and remaining flour. Cover and turn heat to low.
16. Check occasionally. It’s done when the asparagus is bright, green and tender.
17. Serve with grated parm. I like red pepper flakes as well.

The best way to teach is to learn with your students.