Writ

Prosatio Silban and the Plain Truth

EVEN WHEN HOSPITALITY PROFFESSIONALS ARE “off the clock,” their discourse – like that of the other trades – can’t help but revolve around their livelihoods.

“How’s this for a topic?” asked Piriforma Syndro, head chef at epicurean Pormaris’ renowned Diamond Star. She stood at the crowded rear bar in Pelvhi’s Chopping-House, that much-beloved late-night asylum for the city’s food-service folk. “What makes for the perfect dining room?”

Her question provoked appreciative laughter and variations of “ah-HA!” and “Now that is a topic!” from those gathered nearby.

“I believe I have the rightest answer,” put in Prosatio Silban, raising his glass of blue duliac. “My tables-and-chairs are always, as the saying goes, ‘in the fresh’ – and all depends on wherever my galleywagon is parked. What could be better than taking a meal surrounded by the open air, and the comedic drama of passing humanity?”

Read more →

?, Life

Why I Love: KSVY

IT’S SONOMA VALLEY’S HIDDEN JEWEL. It’s Bill Stallings’ “Tasty Nuggets,” a decades-spanning flashback every Friday morning. (It’s also his prog-rock “Rocks Files Radio” on Saturday nights and every-hourly :20 weather forecast.) It’s Tuesday night’s “Big Fish,” surveying and promoting the Valley’s eclectic music scene. Speaking of eclectic, it’s “Kitchen Sink,” Sooth Slinger’s weekday wakeup at 7 a.m., followed by “The Morning Show” from 8-10. It’s Mike Ryan’s never-miss two Thursday-evening hours of punk, New Wave, and assorted indie rock. It’s the “K-Pop Hour” (I mean, who else brings you an hour of synthesizer-rich Korean popular music?) It’s the hyperlocal focus. It’s “Jeff’s Joint,” a lively 1920s-40s Monday retrospective. It’s Thursday afternoon’s “Sonoma Valley Interfaith Radio Hour” (full disclosure: I engineer and cohost). It’s the Latinx, French, and Sinatra programming. It’s community-sponsored and -supported. It’s the passion and dedication of mad wunderkind, blazing electric guitarist, and chief-cook-and-bottle-feeder Bob Taylor as well as the kind attentions of Ronny Jo Grooms. It’s forces-of-nature George Webber’s and Butch Engle’s “Radio Theater of the Wild West.” It’s the coffeehouse sounds of “Coyote Road,” “Nowsville Junction,” and “Uncle Dirtbag.” It’s Chef Marco’s, Sheana Davis’, and Kathleen Thompson Hill’s culinary insights. It’s the varied weekday tuneful and topical offerings of “Guys at Five.” It’s the breaking disaster-news of fires and floods. (It’s also the endless calendars of events.) It’s having to forego in this brief synopsis many, many other important and diverse musical, cultural, community, sports, business, personal, and political shows. And it’s literally the only radio station I listen to — at 91.3 FM or streaming live at ksvy.org.

Writ

Prosatio Silban and the Secondhand Saga

IT IS A LONG-SAID saying, and with good reason: “Workers are only as good as their tools.”

Prosatio Silban lifted down yet another old pot from the galleywagon’s ceiling-mounted rack, placed it among its fellows in an empty durian-crate, dropped his weary arms, and sighed.

I never thought I’d have to sell any of these implements in order to provide for myself, he thought. Fortunately, I can make do with what’s left.

It had been an unusually long economic drought. First his dray-beast had taken ill, then his galleywagon broke a leaf-spring, and the price of blue rice had almost doubled. Finally, it seemed that the only way to earn his keep was to turn used cookware into coin, thence into low-cost ingredients from which to fashion meals that would, he hoped, bring in more coin.

I have to start again somewhere, he thought with a grim grimace. And I hope Cadro Borsh gives me a decent-enough price. What else can I do?

Read more →

Crit

Word to Bring Back: “Fastuous”

– Definition: adj. 1. haughty, arrogant 2. ostentatious, showy
– Used in a sentence: The fastuous have taken their first steps down the rabbit-hole of militant mediocrity.
– Why: It sounds similar to “fatuous” — silly and pointless — and rightly so.

(Thank you, M.F.K. Fisher. Good one.)

Life

Pithyism#.02%

WHY IS IT ONLY — OR chiefly — our minorities who long for universal brotherhood?

Torah

(Don’t) Be Like Moses

B”H, the following is scheduled to be delivered by me at today’s Yom Kippur service in Sonoma. Take from it what you will, or leave it be.

TO PARAPHRASE ANOTHER FAITH’S holiday greeting, “Teshuva [repentance, return] is the reason for the season.” What I want to tell you about is a rather embarrassing teshuva of my own.

First, let me take you back to an exciting day in our people’s history: the consecration of the Tabernacle, the portable wilderness tent containing the ark with the Ten Commandments, and where Moses spoke with G?d for the rest of the prophet’s life.

On that day, according to chapter 9 of Leviticus, a most wondrous thing happened: after the ritual offerings had been slaughtered and placed atop the altar, fire came forth from the Tabernacle and consumed them.

The people all shouted and fell on their faces – I mean, wouldn’t you? But their joy lasted only a moment.

In the very next verse, and for reasons that have been debated for millennia, Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu made an unauthorized incense offering. Fire then came forth from the Tabernacle – and consumed them.

Moses, perhaps moved by brotherly concern, tells Aaron that “This is what יהוה meant by saying: ‘Through those near to Me I show Myself holy and gain glory before all the people.’” In other words, “Somebody had to demonstrate how seriously we must take having the literal Presence of G?d in our midst – and how important it is to get things right.”

The Torah then tells us: “And Aaron was silent.”

Read more →

Writ

Prosatio Silban and the Perfect Colleague

TRYING TO HOLD A CANDLE to someone else is the quickest way to extinguish your own flickering flame.

“And then the High Sacreant herself complimented me on yet another job well done,” Egotio Nys said, lifting his expensive drink and smiling benevolently. “‘It’s what I’m here for, Eminence,’ I told her. You all know how hard she is to please.”

The speaker was holding court at the back bar in Pelvhi’s Chopping-House, surrounded by an admiring throng of well-wishers, which is to say, everyone in the tavern.

Well, not quite everyone.

Read more →