Bach Master

This morning I came across a recording that I haven't listened to in a very long time. It is of the famous Canadian pianist, Glenn Gould, playing Bach's Italian Concerto. It was absolutely amazing in perfection. Every note was crafted perfectly, and the phrasing of each voice was flawless. Listening to it while I was stuck in four lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic, everything seemed peaceful and orderly in the world.

There was something soothing and predictable about the perfect meter and evenhandedness of Gould. I crept along the freeway listening to him.

I remember that when I was very small, my father told me about Glenn Gould. He said that this fine pianist is the standard for Bach. And yet he was eccentric. He sat on a low chair when he played the piano and almost had to reach up to the keyboard to play. Then he would hum along, emphasizing various syncopated elements with clucks and moans. It apparently was impossible to record him in his later years (so my father told me--which I can't verify or dispute) because of his singing. The recording studio created a plastic bubble type affair placed over him while he performed. That way, they could cut his voice out of the sound track. Interesting.

So I drove all the way out into the Southwest sands yesterday, listening to Gould cluck, whine and croon.

There is something enviable about a person who can so lose themselves in what they are doing. Particularly when that something is creative. Seeing or in this case, hearing, someone else become one with their craft restores peace to me. If you have a few moments, you may want to watch him perform.

Soup Explosion!!

Yesterday I served lunch to my entire clinic staff. It is the week before final exams and the student therapists are all exhausted, stressed out, and worked up about all their demands. So I made them a lunch of comfort foods: cream of potato soup, tomato basil bisque, cornmeal-cheddar-scallion-red bell pepper muffins, herb braid bread, and chocolate chip cookies: all things that make a person relax and think that there just may be some goodness to be had in the present moment.

Lunch was to be at 11:00 a.m. Although I had made a number of things the night before, I still had the tomato bisque to cook in the morning. So I was up at 5:30 standing over the stove. It is truly a lovely time to cook. It's quiet, the house is cool, there is no street noise, and I am partially mentally benumbed.

All went well with the soup. It was so delicious that I had a bowl for breakfast and another two bowls for lunch in the clinic. My students raved about it (I shall upload the recipe here one day). It was gratifying to see them fuss and argue about which of them could take the leftovers home with them---poor college students who have neither money for this kind of food, nor time to cook it themselves. I left so pleased that I could do this for them.

The challenge for me is that I can't get the soup out of my white lace curtains in the kitchen. I made the mistake of putting hot soup in the blender with the lid on it. When I turned it on, it was a tomato bath for me, the walls, the ceiling, the window, and worst of all, my blue and white creamer collection on the window sill. All of them had to be taken down and washed. I was a walking illustration of splash burns that I've been teaching my students about in the family violence course. But what to do with those curtains?

Here's the recipe (use a food processor, not a blender with a lid!):

Tomato-Basil Bisque

1 cup chopped celery
3/4 cup chopped carrots
1/4 cup chopped yellow onion
1 tablespoon minced fresh garlic
1 tablespoon butter
3 cups tomato juice
1 cup chicken broth
1 7 1/2-0unce can tomatoes, cut up
1/2 of a 6-ounce can tomato paste
1 teaspoon dried basil, crushed
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano, crushed
1/2 tgeaspoon pepper
1 cup whipping cream (I used non-fat half and half)
4 teaspoons sugar
1/4 cup snipped fresh basil
2 tablespoons prepared basil pesto

In a large saucepan, cook celery, carrots, onion and garlic in butter till vegetables are tender, but not brown. Add tomato juice, chicken broth, undrained tomatoes, tomato paste, basil, oregano and pepper. Bring to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer, uncovered, about 30 minutes or until slightly thickened.
Place half of the soup in a blender container or food processor bowl. Cover (maybe...) blend or process till smooth. Repeat with remaining mixture.
Return all of the mixture to the saucepan. Stir in whipping cream and sugar; heat through. Stir in fresh basil. Ladle into warm soup bowls. Top each serving with some of the pesto and garnish with fresh basil leaves, if you like. Makes 8 side-dish servings.
(199 calories per bowl)

Source unknown--this is from a clipping in my recipe box.