RECIPE #10: Mushroom Pumpkin Soup

Happy Halloween, homies! Today, I go to see Macabre and celebrate. Tomorrow, I go to see múm and try to quit cigarettes. Yes, it's true. It's not my health or yours that motivated this decision. It's simply that my wage provider and a certain governor I didn't vote to re-elect have conspired to make smoking too expensive and inconvenient a habit for me to maintain. Offer congratulations if you're so inclined, but know that I am by no means happy about it. In 32 years upon this planet, I have never lived in a cigarette-free environment. My parents both smoked for most of my time at home, the majority of my roommates have smoked and I've been at it since the age of 15, give or take about a year in high school when I switched to a pipe to foster a then-important "eccentric" image. At this point, I'm prepared for a lifetime of sinus infections due to lack of tobacco exposure. Once my senses of taste and smell return, once I become complacent and no longer get pissed at venues for not letting people outside to puff, once I degenerate into one of those whiny bitches who makes a big show out of their disapproval with congregated smokers, once I've ballooned up to 450 pounds and chewed all of my fingernails down to bloody stubs, then ask me if I'm glad I quit, damn it.

Both my Sassy Frassy Lassie and myself recently felt like we were succumbing to seasonal sickness. I never became fully ill, but the lady definitely got something. As a means of boosting our health at a time when we've been eating out a lot (the work week will do that to you), as well as an homage to the harvest of this most excellent of months, I followed a recipe described online as "fairly simple." That's what I wanted. I was feeling so lazy, I used prepared ingredients where I could have done the work myself. And this, my friends, is how to make a fairly simple and extremely delicious mushroom pumpkin soup.

Since I prepared this dish at my girlfriend's place, I had access to different cookware than that to which I'm accustomed. She has a marvelous, sizeable metal pot in which I put the entire thing together, so if you have something similar, I'd suggest using it. The first step is to sauté 1/2 pound of sliced mushrooms and 1/2 cup of chopped onion in oil or butter. Did I say I was lazy? I bought pre-sliced mushrooms, and I'm glad I did because it saved a bunch of time. As Sassy Frass drew herself a bath, I used some olive oil my fabulous lady had handy and cooked them shits right in the pot. Worked like a charm.

When everything was nice and soft, I stirred in 2 tablespoons of flour and 1 tablespoon of curry powder. This created a very pasty mass of earthy-looking gunk on the bottom of the pot, sticking all over the place. Sassy Frass called out that she could smell the curry all the way in the bathtub. Okay, that's just around the corner in her cozy pad, but still, if you cook this yourself, be prepared for a blast of spicy curry goodness. I'm sure the smell would have been even stronger to me if I wasn't a dirty, filthy, ugly, Commie terrorist bastard SMOKER.

One reason I'm glad I put this soup together in one vessel is that the mushroom/onion paste became, as I mentioned, stuck to the bottom of the pot. The next step is to gradually add 3 cups of chicken broth. This performs the function known to cooking types as deglazing, wherein the crusty bits are gently lifted by a small amount of liquid and become part of a saucy new solution. I stirred after adding one cup of broth, and everything came loose, turning the golden broth a muddy orange. This color intensified to something like baby poo once I'd added the rest of the broth, plus 1 pound of canned pumpkin, 1 tablespoon of honey, a dash of nutmeg and a little salt and pepper. I cooked and stirred the concoction for about 15 minutes.

Once the pot was good and bubbling, I poured in the final ingredient: 1 cup of evaporated milk. I turned down the heat a tad, from medium-low to low, since the recipe specified that you should add this and heat the soup without boiling it. After a couple of minutes, it was ready. Since we were also baking up a beer bread mix, I shut off the stove and we waited for that to finish baking before digging in. Less than one episode of "Weeds" later, we were eating.

Served with a dollop or two of plain yogurt on top, this soup has a pretty complex flavor for something so quick and simple to prepare. It looks like pumpkin pie filling, so you're expecting something sweet. But, no, it's a savory soup, somewhat bland at first but then exploding with creamy curry, mushroom and squash-like flavor. Yeah, that's what unsweetened pumpkin reminds me of, squash. It tastes like autumn. The yogurt (you can also use sour cream) gives it a little tang, too, but it also cools the soup off a bit. Should I have heated the yogurt? Meh. As a bonus, we made the beer bread mix with a can of the world's second-favorite cola, so it was pretty sweet, a perfect complement to the soup.

I haven't given you any new CD suggestions in a while, so my next post will be a long-in-the-making look at some great tunes released over the summer. In the meantime, do yourself a favor and check out some other fine new releases: Wolves in the Throne Room's dismally engrossing Two Hunters, Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings' soul throwback 100 Days, 100 Nights, Limbonic Art's savage punishment Legacy of Evil, Ween's ebullient hodge-podge La Cucaracha and, of course, Helloween's best album in seven years, Gambling with the Devil.

The Witch Is Back

I'm through apologizing for lack of updates. Y'all know I'm crazy busy. Like, here are three reviews I wrote recently - the year's best metal album (so far), a shitty movie and a decent play. See, I'm doin' stuff.

Last year, I gave you not one, but two playlists full of Xmas music, all the while insisting that the holiday does nothing for me. October 31 is more my style. It's all about monsters, moonlight, mischief and marshmallows, stuff I generally like. I have this effed-up jack-o'-lantern tattoo on my shoulder, and the band is only half the reason.

So, for 2007, I address that discrepancy with what I hope will become an annual feature: a Halloween playlist! I tried not to make it too obvious, like one of those CD compilations you find between the rubber rats and the plastic tombstones at Party City. No "Monster Mash" or "Werewolves of London" here. I have instead loaded up on horror movie music. You'll find tunes inspired by creature features as well as lots of tracks from scores or soundtracks, even a few covers of such. This isn't exclusive, though, and I tried to balance the genuinely spooky stuff with some fearsome fun, in the true spirit of the holiday. Listen and enjoy. Please do me a favor and celebrate somehow this year. Anyone who tells you they've outgrown Halloween is a shriveled old chump.

1. Budy-Maglione, "Cannibal Ferox" (Cannibal Ferox, 1981) - I chose to lead off with one of the coolest pieces of horror movie music ever. This cue is only a minute long, but anyone who's seen "Cannibal Ferox," easily the best horror movie Italian hack Umberto Lenzi ever lensed, will find it hard to forget. Like a lot of Italian scores of its time, the "Ferox" music by the writing team of Roberto Donati and Fiamma Maglione is a strange mix of funky disco, fluffy pop cheese and Goblin-inspired haunted house prog. This main theme is the most effective in conveying our protagonists' doom, as they stare down sun-baked torture and death at the hands of wronged jungle natives. It even works in the trailer (NOT safe for work). By all means, only hardened gorehounds should subject themselves to "Ferox," as it is widely acknowledged that it's inferior to Ruggero Deodato's insane "Cannibal Holocaust" - it's got all the Grand Guignol crudities, but none of the genuine evil. Here, watch this brilliant parody.

2. Rob Zombie with The Ghastly Ones, "Halloween (She Get So Mean)" (Halloween Hootenanny, 1998) - My favorite song Rob's done since White Zombie broke up, this rarity is on a bad-ass CD that came out on his short-lived Zombie A Go-Go! vanity label. Halloween Hootenanny compiles Halloween/horror-themed tunes by a bunch of surf/rockabilly/trash/garage rock bands including The Reverend Horton Heat, Los Straitjackets, Rocket from the Crypt and Southern Culture on the Skids. Yes, it's as fun as it sounds, and totally worth searching for if you'd like a real swingin' Samhain. Zombie's infamous drone is backed on this track by The Ghastly Ones, a cool California gang of ghouls named after one of Andy Milligan's finest films. I wish he'd continued to make music that sounded like this.

3. Fantômas, "Rosemary's Baby" (The Director's Cut, 2001) - Roman Polanski's most famous horror film was not his only one, but it's as disturbing as the astounding "Repulsion." Complementing the pristine visuals, Polish composer Krzysztof Komeda's score, with its creepy lullaby main theme, stands as a highlight of American horror movie music. Here's a take on the theme by Fantômas, the experimental supergroup consisting of ex-Faith No More vocalist Mike Patton, ex-Mr. Bungle bassist Trevor Dunn, Melvins guitarist Buzz Osborne and Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo. It's from their second and probably most accessible album, which consists of film score covers by the likes of Angelo Badalamenti, Jerry Goldsmith and Henry Mancini. Of course, they tweak things a bit.

4. Gravediggaz, "Diary of a Madman" (6 Feet Deep, 1994) - Horrorcore was a promising but ultimately disappointing hip-hop subgenre. Most of its practitioners were too subtle or too garish, and at this point it's degenerated into a sub-Juggalo parade of cartoon bullshit. As far as I'm concerned, the only horrorcore records worth owning are Kool Keith's one-off as Dr. Dooom and the debut by legendary producer/rapper Prince Paul's Gravediggaz. Both include a lot of spooky piano samples and violent lyrics, although Gravediggaz were ultimately more serious in their approach. Along with Prince Paul, going by the alter ego The Undertaker, the MCs included Wu-Tang Clan's RZA (aka RZArecta), Stetsasonic's Frukwan (aka The Gatekeeper) and the late Too Poetic (aka The Grym Reaper). A lot of their rhymes contain Five Percent Nation references, which became more pronounced on their two subsequent albums, but early on they did more tracks like this one, concentrating on real-life horrors as a form of social commentary. Just like Slayer!

5. Misfits, "Bruiser" (Cuts from the Crypt, 2001) - I am not in the camp who thinks the "resurrected" Misfits of the late '90s sucked. In fact, I loved them. They took the Ramones-for-monster-movie-fans approach of the band's Walk Among Us era and jacked it up with metal production and a more versatile singer. Sure, Glenn Danzig was great in his day, but by the time Jerry Only and his brother Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein were back swinging their devilocks, the "Evil Elvis" was a horrific self-parody who wanted to be Trent Reznor, or at least wanted to pull the kind of hot goth trim that Trent did. Although he was a very inconsistent live frontman, Michale Graves has a good throat - better than Jerry's, which has unfortunately hollered 'fits classics ever since Graves definitively split in Y2K. This is one of the final tracks to surface from the Graves years, recorded as the theme song for one of George Romero's weakest movies, in which the band also made a cameo. I do hope that whenever Jerry gets off his ass and puts a new album out, the songs are still good, but that hope grows slimmer by the year.

6. Lon Chaney Jr., "Main Title" (Not of This Earth! The Film Music of Ronald Stein, 1995) - A little history for you non-horror buffs: Lon Chaney Jr. was the son of the famed "Man of a Thousand Faces," Lon Chaney. His dad was an extremely influential innovator in screen make-up, as well as a beloved silent movie actor. Lon Jr. starred in "The Wolf Man," and was best known for that role since he played it in a bunch of Universal's subsequent monster mash-ups. He did a lot of other horror flicks and westerns, but by the end of his career, he was in bad shape, sweating through cheap Mexican monster flicks that were chopped up and mashed together for American distribution by the infamous Jerry Warren, sick and drinking too much. His last great role came in Jack Hill's awesome 1964 "Spider Baby, Or The Maddest Story Ever Told," an undervalued relic if there ever was one. Lon Jr. plays the cheerful chauffeur of a family cursed with a disease that makes them regress as they age, and he gives the otherwise bizarre and macabre film a sweet heart. It's also got Quentin Tarantino/Rob Zombie favorite Sig Haig as the oldest, thus most fucked-up, kid. Lon Jr. growls this groovy theme song, written by the guy who scored "Dementia 13." Put "Spider Baby" at the top of your Netflix list if you want to watch a neat little cult shocker this Halloween.

7. The World/Inferno Friendship Society, "Pumpkin Time" (East Coast Super Sound Punk of Today!, 2000) - The cultish Brooklyn "punk cabaret" act known as The World/Inferno Friendship Society is a shitload of fun on record, but I have never seen them live, which is a shame. They're one of those bands that has a zillion members, yet often sound somewhat subdued on recordings. Musically, there's a little swing, klezmer, pop, new wave and, well, punk cabaret. They have fun with social critiques, often putting a modern anarchist slant on historical figures and movements. Then there's their new album, a concept piece based on the life of Peter Lorre. This funky gospel rave-up is most easily found on the zesty singles collection linked above. It's their ode to "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown," and is exclusively performed at their annual Hallowmas concert.

8. Morte Macabre, "Apoteosi del Mistero" (Symphonic Holocaust, 2001) - Symphonic Holocaust is an odd CD, consisting mainly of instrumental music from Italian horror films as covered by dudes from Swedish prog rock bands Anekdoten and Landberk. Yes, right up my alley. These guys really evoke the feeling of the post-Goblin spaghetti splatter era, from the loping bass lines to the eerie keyboards. The album makes a good argument for why this stuff should be listened to as music on its own merit, rather than as something to accompany grotesque moving images. The track at hand was composed by the immortal Fabio Frizzi, and is taken from his underrated score to Lucio Fulci's "Paura Nella Città dei Morti Viventi," aka "City of the Living Dead," aka "The Gates of Hell," aka one of my favorite Fulci pictures.

9. Rose and the Arrangement, "The Cockroach That Ate Cincinnati" (Totally Bananas, 1981) - Oh, the entire Dr. Demento Halloween playlist could substitute for part of this list, but there's too much other good stuff. Instead, I will simply include this annual favorite of the Good Doctor, which I was surprised to learn is only 26 years old. Considering the references to "Willard" and "Ben," I always thought this was a '70s relic. Anyway, Rose and the Arrangement are best known for this campy ode to horror cinema, which asserts that all fright flicks pale in comparison to the fictitious title feature. The internet tells me they later recorded a sequel with a Latin twist, "The Cockroach That Ate Tijuana." The sample I heard is not as good as I just made it sound. Stick with the "Cinci" version.

1o. Cathedral, "Spoken Intro/Hopkins (The Witchfinder General)" (Hopkins (The Witchfinder General), 1996) - Heavy metal songs about horror subjects are a dime a dozen, going all the way back to the genre's unwitting originators, who named themselves after a Mario Bava omnibus. I could feasibly have done this whole list with metal songs about witches and demons and whatnot, but where's the creativity in that? Besides, I'll bet no one listened to the awesome death metal bonanza that was previously streaming here, so I'll just pull out a coupla great examples for you. The long-running Cathedral, fronted by early Napalm Death vocalist and beloved doom metal loony Lee Dorrian, recorded this tribute to the Vincent Price cheapie known in America as "The Conqueror Worm" at a time the band was edging away from doom toward stoner rock. As such, it's still got those deep Sabbath guitar tones, but a bouncier step. This version, from the extra-weird EP of the same name, has a longer intro sampled from the film's trailer. Check out the hilarious video... dancing girls? It's like Earache Records thought the lovably ugly Brits were gonna get on the Monster Magnet gravy train or something.

11. Goblin, "Suspiria" (Suspiria, 1977) - OK, I could hold out no longer. Here is the main theme music from my favorite horror movie. I will not say it is the best example of the genre ever constructed, but it's the last one I can remember genuinely scaring - not startling or grossing out - me. Written by Daria Nicolodi and directed by Dario Argento, the parents of sexy Eurotrash starlet Asia Argento, "Suspiria" is the story of the chick who replaced Susan Sarandon as Janet in the "Rocky Horror" sequel, who goes to an elite dance academy in Germany that has fancy velvet on the walls and a coven of murderous witches hiding behind them. The movie itself is ludicrous, but the presentation is unparalled. The legendary soundtrack by Italian prog rockers Goblin (in collaboration with ELP/Genesis buff Dario) makes the hallucinatory onscreen onslaught of colors and textures seem alive and dangerous. Everything feels like it's going to kill someone. I'm sure if I saw "Suspiria" for the first time last week, it wouldn't have as powerful an effect as it did when I was 16, but I'd still love it. Especially the soundtrack.

12. Hot Blood, "Soul Dracula" (Disco Dracula, 1977) - Contrary to what you might guess, I have no hate for disco. I was raised on it (thanks mom!), and compared to the dance music of the '80s, it's way classier, funkier and meatier. At least there were real drums, right? Disco was famously applied to everything, from Christmas tunes to Alice Cooper, and of course there were a few horror-themed disco records. Speaking of Alice, there's a TV performance of the song at hand that looks like something from his "Welcome to My Nightmare" TV special. Let me tell you, I have heard Hot Blood's Disco Dracula in its entirety, and it's absolutely terrible. Not good bad, bad bad. I mean, it makes "Night on Disco Mountain" sound dignified. However, if you're looking to evoke the 1970s' polyester Frank Langella/George Hamilton/William Marshall vampire, this single by the German group is perfect.

13. Phish, "Wolfman's Brother" (Hoist, 1994) - Also contrary to popular belief, I have no hate for jam rock, either. I've actually warmed to it a lot this year as I happened to fall in love with a onetime Deadhead/Phish Phan. However, although this song was included due to my Sassy Frassy Lassie's suggestion, I actually own the album it comes from; I had just forgotten the song titles. Seriously, it doesn't matter if you do drugs or find hacky sacks embarassing. Listen to enough and you'll realize that Phish was an eclectic and prodigious band that deserved the dedicated audience it amassed, even if many kids just showed up to get wasted and shake their asses like they were at a stupid fucking Dave Matthews show. And lest you think this song (and the band) are too upbeat to fit with the holiday theme, be aware that among Phish's many claims to fame, their annual Halloween blowouts were legendary, wherein the quartet would encore by performing some classic rock LP or other in its entirety. This "musical costume" is now a popular move by bands performing concerts on Halloween.

14. Franco Bixio, Fabio Frizzi and Vince Tempera, "7 Note" (Sette Note In Nero, 1977) - I think I was the only person in the theater who flipped out while watching "Kill Bill Vol. 1" and hearing this spooky little music box cue, one of many pieces of old film music Tarantino plucked for his revenge epic. It's from "Sette Note In Nero," aka "7 Notes In Black," aka "The Psychic." This is one of Lucio Fulci's better-known non-gore pictures, a relatively tame murder mystery in the classic Italian giallo tradition. I have only seen the old, edited U.S. videotape release, so I can't give you a true indication of the film's worth, but of the Fulci giallos I've seen, I'd recommend the curiously titled "Don't Torture a Duckling" over this. The music, though, is superior here. Careful readers will notice that this is the second Frizzi-penned selection on this list, but the first that's the actual film version. Yes, I figured that this way I could include Fabio twice, and neither piece is from his most famous work. You know how we do.

15. The Gravetones, "Devil's Rain" (Dig It!, 2006) - Local representatives of the ever-popular horror punk scene, The Gravetones have one foot in the Misfits' bracing sing-alongs and the other in the milieu of trash rock ghouls The Cramps, with some Damned/45 Grave goth-punk leanings dangling in between. Their debut record from last year isn't Earth-shattering, but it's a lot of fun if you like this sort of thing. This, the last track on the album, is pure Misfits worship, but I don't have a problem with that, especially since it's about one of the great cinematic horror cheesefests of the 1970s. If for some reason you've never seen "The Devil's Rain," know that it stars William Shatner as a flannel-clad dude who teams up with Eddie Albert and Tom Skerritt to fight off a gang of Satan worhippers. These are led by Ernest Borgnine, and their ranks include famed Scientologist John Travolta. All the bad guys melt at the end. Anton LaVey himself advised the filmmakers on its Satanic content. It's rated PG, but that doesn't matter. It's easy to find and hilarious in all the right places. The bland trailer does it little justice.

16. The Count, "Transylvania Polka" (Counting to Ten/The Transylvania Polka, 1977) - At the end of Sesame Street, atop a mountain so steep only bats dare ascend its peak, stands the castle of Count von Count. His family has owned the fortress for countless generations, yet the goateed and nearly bankrupt Count is the last of his royally fucked bloodline. Thanks to the aristocracy's penchant for inbreeding, he's nearly blind in his left eye. His skin is an unhealthy purple, the effect of not enough sun and too much moldy incense. Most glaringly, he's afflicted with acute arithmomania. Yes, there are many interpretations of what the "Sesame Street" gang are really about - from Bert and Ernie being a gay couple (I prefer to think of them as two orphans squatting in an abandoned apartment) to Cookie Monster being a commentary on gluttony, suffering a Tantalus-style punishment where insatiable hunger is tormented by a sewn-shut gullet. I like my sweetly retarded interpretation of The Count, and that's the guy I picture warbling this ode to the famous Romanian region, not Jerry Nelson with his hand up a puppet's ass. I mean, which is more disturbing?

17. Jay Chattaway, "A Little Knife Music" (Maniac, 1980) - Slasher movies are not really my thing. In general, they're as formulaic and engaging as '90s porn. The best any of them offer, including the more famous franchises, is the occasional creative special effect during a death scene or an unintentionally hilarious plot. William Lustig, the man who gave us the "Maniac Cop" trilogy, was responsible for a rare exception. "Maniac" isn't that much more violent than your average post-"Halloween" slasher, although its gore was designed by the now-unthinkable duo of Rob Bottin and Tom Savini. The difference in "Maniac" is that it's mainly told from the point of view of the killer, played brilliantly by Joe Spinell as a seedy sad sack loner who scalps women and hangs their hair on mannequins to get back at his abusive mom. It's cheap, thoroughly unsettling and full of spine-tinglingly minimal musical cues such as the one at hand, which augment the murder scenes like you wouldn't believe. About the only thing not grimy about the movie is ever-stunning heroine Caroline Munro. If you're in the mood for non-supernatural horror that will make you want to shower, try "Maniac."

18. Dr. Dre feat. Hittman and Ms. Roq, "Murder Ink" (2001, 1999) - It's been eight fucking years since Dr. Dre put out an album of his own. Do you have any idea how old that makes me feel? Do you have any idea how old that makes Dre? Not to mention Hittman and Ms. Roq, the stars of this cut from Dre's belated sequel to the G-funk cornerstone The Chronic. How old are they, and did their appearance on this disc help pay some bills? They certainly never became the household names that then-emerging 2001 participants Eminem and Xzibit did. Their rhymes here are actually fine, detailing the process and mindset of professional killers. Roq's competent, hard-ass lady sniper is one of few females portrayed semi-positively on the disc. However, the reason we are hearing this tune rather than a thousand other violent hip-hop tunes is Dre's awesome production, which puts the rappers through spectral walkie-talkies and repurposes John Carpenter's theme from "Halloween" to chilling effect.

19. Iced Earth, "Dracula" (Horror Show, 2001) - Again, heavy metal songs about horror subjects are nothing unusual, but we can't just ignore them all. This song is from a concept album about classic monsters, apparently a favorite subject of Iced Earth guitarist Jon Schaffer back in his demo days. For the unfamiliar, Iced Earth has been Schaffer's baby since he began the band as Purgatory back in the '80s. Plying a solid mix of traditional melodic metal and energetic thrash no matter the trend of the time, Schaffer's gone through a million band members as Iced Earth made the journey from criminally overlooked to grossly overrated. Horror Show features perhaps the best line-up he's assembled to date, with classic vocalist Matthew Barlow still in the fold and the final rhythm section of Chuck Schuldiner's Death, bassist Steve DiGiorgio and drummer Richard Christy, bumping up the technical aspect. Their take on the Drac myth was obviously inspired by the Coppola version, as lyrics focus on the doomed romance and inner torment of the fanged fiend.

20. Danny Elfman, "End Credits" (Nightbreed, 1990) - Here's music from a final overlooked horror picture, Clive Barker's second directorial effort. "Nightbreed" is definitely dated, but it's worth revisiting. Barker adapted it from his own novella "Cabal," the story of a troubled guy who discovers his inner monster and goes to live in Midian, a subterranean realm for creatures like himself. The beasts must band together when they are assaulted by the forces of state and church, leading to an all-out monster war. My man David Cronenberg plays the mulleted hero's murderous psychologist, and he is far scarier than any of the elaborate make-up designs seen in the film. The monsters of Midian are intentionally sympathetic and the typical "good" guys are a menace, which is what makes it an appropriate Halloween selection. You can also read a pretty plain subtext in there, wherein Clive reveals his frustration with persecution of the homosexual community. While the score is not one of Elfman's most famous ones, it's one of my favorites. Selections such as this concluding suite are perfect for a grand-scale horror epic, loaded with the ethereal children's choirs, brooding brass and dreamy harps that made his name. It sounds like 24 hours of Halloween packed into four and a half minutes.

RECIPE #9: Polenta and Sauce

Sorry the monthly recipe report is a few days late, but from the lack of clamor, I suspect you will forgive me. I know, it's my mantra this year, but I have indeed been very busy. I've spent virtually all my free time hovering over my Sassy Frassy Lassie in the wake of her aforementioned medical procedure. She's recovering nicely, aside from the pain associated with healing. Thanks from both of us to all of you who expressed well wishes.

The downside is that her cats are pretty pissed at us for locking them in the hallway at night. They peed in one of her plants! This is why I am personally a big fan of other people's pets. Like other people's children, you can play with them and have fun for a while, maybe look after them for small stretches, but when they're pitching a serious fit or spitefully excreting on everything of value that you own, you can hand over the cute little buggers with a guilt-free grin. On the other hand, I'd like to stay in this pair of cats' good graces. Who knows? I may find myself sharing living quarters with them some day. (Yes, I'd say things are going pretty well.)

I was inspired for September's recipe by a restaurant Sassy Frass and I stumbled across one fateful night in August. We had gone to another place thinking it was a German eatery, only to discover a dingy bar that offered brats for $2. The "2" looked like it had recently been erased and rewritten - was this a mark-up or a discount? Not in the mood for shady sausages, we wandered the mean streets of Elgin, dodging bullets and hungry jackals until a zealously friendly dude ushered us into a joint which turned out to be his. I think we were only ones eating, although the place was filled with people playing a "pub quiz." A sort of Trivial Pursuit for knowledgeable alcoholics, the game spurred much hollering and guffawing. You'd think that such boisterous japery would ruin a nice romantic dinner, but Sassy Frass and I like people-watching, and I in particular am fascinated by observing in-jokes born of clannish devotion in their natural environment. It was interesting.

Anyway, the place was nice, although they had a painting that bothered my lady for reasons undetermined, and the food was delicious, particularly the polenta torte appetizer. I said, "I've never cooked polenta. That's my recipe for next month!" Sassy Frass, flashing a smile that could light up a coal mine, said, "My mom has a really good polenta recipe." Thinking immediately of the zucchini parmesan from July, I was sold without a description. Now, some may feel that using two recipes from the same source for this cooking endeavor is cheating, but I beg to differ. The zucchini was prepared without a recipe via my girlfriend's expert instruction and assistance. For the polenta, I worked from a genuine handwritten/photocopied recipe, and my lady only assisted by answering questions, chopping or stirring the pots while I ducked away to smoke or buy more cheese. Different experience completely.

This is a two-part recipe in that you make the polenta and the sauce separately. I assumed the sauce would take longer, but after I'd started it Sassy Frass told me that she usually makes the polenta first. I now see the wisdom in that, although at the time I was already well into the sauce preparations and I wasn't about to switch horses mid-race. No matter which one might choose to begin with, the first step of the sauce is to heat 1/4 cup of olive oil in a large, heavy skillet. After doing this, I plopped in 1/2 cup of onion chopped as finely as I could, 1 cup of freshly sliced mushrooms and a large clove of crushed garlic. No, I don't own a contraption for that. I used a big can (foreshadowing!) and mashed the clove on the cutting board, preserving as much garlic juice as I could. When these were golden brown, I added 1 pound of ground beef, breaking it up with a fork as it browned. It smelled great already.

The recipe didn't indicate that you should move your food to more voluminous cookware. Still, the amount of stuff that I needed to add would have spilled out of my trusty skillet. Thus, the contents of the skillet went into the biggest pot I have, a huge glass jobber that still didn't seem big enough when I pulled it out. I sliced two carrots, while Sassy Frass finely chopped a cup of celery. These, along with a beef boullion cube, 2 teaspoons of salt, 1 and 1/2 teaspoons of lemon juice, 1 and 1/2 teaspoons of Italian seasoning (it only calls for oregano, but I have a bunch of this mix), 1/8 teaspoon of powdered cloves, 1/8 teaspoon of black pepper, a pinch of red pepper and an entire 1 pound, 12. oz. can of diced tomatoes (aka the garlic crusher) all went into the pot. A zealous mixing followed. I set the pot over the lowest flame my stove allows and stirred it occasionally for about an hour - give or take a few minutes, since I had to shut off the flame for a bit. Why?

When I finally got to the actual polenta, it became clear that I had bought far too little parmesan cheese. When I wrote down the ingredients for shopping, I neglected to note how much the recipe called for, and I had to make an emergency cheese run. Thankfully, Sassy Frass was there to watch the stove, growing hungrier by the minute but never bitching about how long this dish was taking me to concoct. Anyway, when I returned with the jumbo package of parmesan, I could begin. I boiled 3 cups of water, simultaneously mixing 3 cups of cold water with 2 cups of yellow corn meal. The recipe notes that "coarse ground is best," but my local supermarket offered exactly one variety of yellow corn meal. There were a few white corn meals, even several factory-assembled polenta mixes, but just one yellow, and it gave no indication of how coarsely it was ground.

Once the water started boiling, I poured in the corn meal solution, 2 teaspoons of salt and 1/8 teaspoon of black pepper. The next steps were to stir it until smooth and then continue cooking and stirring until it thickened. Sassy Frass kindly took over the spoon while I stepped outside for a smoke and a respite from sweating. By the time I came back in, the mixture was ready. I mixed in 1 cup of parmesan cheese, buttered up a casserole dish (well, two casserole dishes, since the lady advised me to switch to the deeper one after I'd buttered the other) and poured the liquid polenta into it. Another 1/2 cup of parmesan sprinkled the top of the mixture. Then I baked it for about 25 minutes, restarting the burner under the sauce so it could finish cooking as well. At the very end, I switched to the broiler to brown the top of the polenta. We were ready to go. A final piece of advice: let this sucker cool before you try to slice it up! It will become firm with a little patience. Me? I was fucking starving.

Okay, the dish looked much more appetizing than that picture does, but the image is there to give you the gist. You grab yourself a chunk of polenta, spoon a fair amount of the sauce over it and chow down. The sauce is amazing; it's a little like a stew due to the carrots and celery, a little like sloppy Joes with the hearty beef and tomato chunks, a little like pasta sauce because of the spices, but it's ultimately its own delectable southern Italian entity. The polenta tastes like cheesy, savory cornbread. Together, this is something I could eat all the time. F'real. On paper it looked okay, but once it was in my mouth, I decided it was the best damn recipe I've followed so far this year. If you prepare correctly, it's not very labor-intensive considering how much food it yields. Vegetarians can use a soy beef substitute, so I cannot imagine why anyone should not give it a whirl.