This set was published in the April, 1959 issue under the heading “A beautiful parole worker,Pat Rice, brings glamour to the grim proceedings in Kansas City, Kansas municipal court“. Hopefully Ms.Rice, who should be about 70 years old now is alive and well and still has this old magazine.

Bonus question:what’s on TV?

The rest of the set.

Continue reading →

This post is about pickles. Not your regular brownish-green vinegary mouth-puckering pickles. It’s about bright-green, crunchy, slightly salted pickles that taste fresh, slightly garlicky and with a hint of dill – pickles of my childhood. The closest thing to these that can be found in your regular grocery store is the Claussen Pickles but they are a far cry from the real thing. Rarely you can find excellent Ba-Tampte Half Sours usually in the kosher refrigerated section. For a better version head on to the Russian Store, they are sold by weight at the counter (grab yourself a couple of pickled apples and tomatoes while you are there).

Sometimes you can find a pickling spice mix at a Russian store, or if you have friends who will smuggle it for you illegally from Eastern Europe.

In the absence of pre-made spice mix I always use dill weed (fresh or dry) or dill seed, lots of garlic, some black peppercorns, maybe a hot pepper (be careful how hot), if you have cherry leaf or two, a horseradish leaf (which I’ve never seen sold here) and a few bay leaves.

Yesterday after a downtown lunch I stopped by the City Market and bought about 5 lbs of fresh pickling cucumbers.

These are not gigantic-looking things sold in Wal-Mart, they are small, light-green,bumpy and crunchy. In this area they are available only during the summer. I brought them home and soaked them in the kitchen sink to let all the dirt come loose. I also cut the ends off and pierce the cucumber with a knife in the middle. This way the brine has more surfaces to penetrate the cucumber.

From there on the process is simple – wash the cucumbers and put them in the jar, adding garlic and spices at the same time. The hard part is to guess the amount of salt. The general rule of thumb is 1 tablespoon of salt dissolved in 1 liter (quart) of warm water, I think it has to be a regular tablespoon heaping with salt. Lately I’ve been using 2 measuring tablespoons of salt per quart of water.It doesn’t have to be extremely salty, maybe slightly saltier than you’d like to taste. The whole point is to keep the fresh taste and crunchiness and not to over-salt the pickles. Fill the jar to the top, cover and leave on the counter. You can start tasting the pickles the next day or two. When they reach desired taste, place them in the refrigerator.

They are good with any food or drink, a hot dog, a sandwich, a shot of vodka or just by themselves.

They are good when you are eating with great friends…

…or when you it’s just you, pickle and this song….

 

httpvh://youtu.be/g266Uwp6ZnI

Continue reading →

This morning couldn’t come fast enough. I haven’t had a date for a long time and ever since I saw the sign with his name on it I couldn’t get it out of my mind. When it was finally lunchtime I ran downstairs with my car keys in hand and within a few minutes I was approaching the building where it was going to happen.

O, how I longed for this minute. My heart was beating faster and faster. There was no way this date could go wrong. With the name like Reuben, I knew he wouldn’t disappoint. All the signs where pointing to the place where we will finally meet.

My heart was pounding and the things happening with my mind and body could only be understood by an experienced medical professional. I timidly approached the counter and whispered: “Reuben, please”. The wait was becoming unbearable. I had to run outside to see if he was ready.

He was getting dressed. My lips were smacking in anticipation. I ran back inside.

Then out again.

This was starting to feel like torture. Sweet, sweet torture. I was ready to explode. Finally he was mine. I stared lustily, he was all there – seductively spread in front of me, on a slightly grilled hoagie roll, covered with slices of thick-cut pastrami, cheese, sauerkraut and topped with the thousand island dressing, so hot, steamy and beautiful.

His smell took over my car turning it into a prison of anticipation and impatience. We still had to get back to my place. I couldn’t keep my eyes on the road.

I couldn’t think of anything else, I just wanted to touch this hot mess with my lips, swollen with desire. I don’t remember much of the ride. Finally we were alone.

The short ride helped me regain my senses. I wanted this to last as long as I could, and this I could control for a change.

I could, of course, dig in face first, impatiently devouring my beloved Reuben, tearing into the hot dog, pastrami, roll, taking greedy bites until nothing was left. Or I could take it slow, savoring a bite after delicious bite. The choice was hard. Maybe I should’ve made it a threesome so I could experience it in every way. I chased impure thoughts out of my head.

Slowly I started to cut it in small pieces. Sauerkraut juices mixed with dressing were getting me even more excited. O, what a pleasure every small bite was. I could do this for hours.

Finally it was over. I thought about smoking a cigarette but then remembered that I quit 13 years ago. Reuben almost made me get back to the old habit. I listened to the music instead.

“The best four dollar date I ever had” I thought to myself making imaginary smoke rings, “I wouldn’t mind doing this again”
Hot Dog Haven, Armour Rd. Kansas City,MO.

Continue reading →

I’ve used a few photos from this batch in my previous posts about the tough looks of old-time bosses,  about a day in life of a Kansas City Ford dealer (this one received a comment from someone in the photo), and about the schoolchildren visiting the Nelson-Atkins. These pictures were taken for the feature story “Kansas City and St.Louis: Picture portfolio shows some contrasts between striving city and a settled one“, published in March of 1954.

Back to back in the middle of the U.S., 235 miles apart across the state of Missouri, ate the two cities – Kansas City (pop. 456.662) and St.Louis (pop.856,796) – which together sum up a good part of America. In many ways the two are alike. Both were founded by French traders (St.Louis in 1764 by Pierre Laclede Liguest and Auguste Chouteau, Kansas City in 1821 by Chouteau’s nephew). Both are on great rivers, both lie in the same farm belt, both are famous for their newspapers and both are prospering. But in outlook and temperament the cities are radically different. Old and mellow, St.Louis reflects the East and South of the U.S.; its most prominent statue is that of Louis IX, the saintly French monarch for whom the town is named. Young and brash, Kansas City faces the wide-open energetic West; its favorite statue is of an American Indian who gazes out over the stockyards.

Nowhere is the contrast between St.Lois and Kansas City more noticeable than in civic improvement. Kansas City is eager to better itself; efforts to make St.Louis pay for its own civic health run into endless delays.

Continue reading →

A full-blown winter storm in March? Check!
An incorrect, rapidly changing weather forecast? Check!
Scary drive home? Check!
Making it home alive to write about it – priceless!

If you don’t feel like getting out, I shot a little clip for you.

And the rest of my photos:

By the way I still think weather forecasters should be arrested for the incorrect predictions.
UPDATE: I mentioned in comments what the weather forecast used to look like in my childhood and here is a video from November 2, 1977. This is for the whole country;they just list general areas, conditions and temperature ranges (in C°).

Continue reading →