FinermanWorks

Macy’s Culinary Council Chef prepares an original dish inspired by the Showtime Original Series The Borgias!

Enjoy a special cooking demonstration.  Bittersweet Chocolate & Ancho Chile Budino–an original dish inspired by Lucretia Borgia.

Lucretia Borgia died in 1519, before either chocolate or the ancho chile was introduced to Europe.  (If only Cortes had invaded Mexico sooner!)  So this dish would not be Ms. Borgia’s recipe but perhaps her premonition.

From The New York Times

Farley Granger, Screen Star of the 1950s, Dies at 85

Farley Granger, who found quick stardom in films like Alfred Hitchcock’s “Strangers on a Train”  in the 1940s and ’50s but who then turned aside from Hollywood to pursue stage and television roles, died on Sunday at his home in Manhattan. He was 85….

Mr. Granger’s love life was often as adventurous as his career choices. He had a longstanding hot-and-cold relationship with the actress Shelley Winters — “the love of my life and the bane of my existence,” he called her in his book — which began in his Goldwyn years and included talk of marriage. Another serious love interest was the actress Janice Rule, with whom he had worked Off Broadway in the 1950s. Women who were in his life more briefly included Ava Gardner.

But Mr. Granger, who described himself as bisexual, also had relationships with Leonard Bernstein and Arthur Laurents. 

His amatory achievements included every Academy Award winning actress and actor.  His relationships with Marie Dressler and Hattie McDaniel did require him to break into their coffins.  When later asked if these particular “romances” were somewhat distasteful, Mr. Granger replied “Only because Warren Beatty got there first.”

Mr. Granger also refused to be confined to three dimensions and bragged of his relations with Snow White, the Wicked Queen and all seven dwarfs.

p.s.  Let’s not forget the historic significance of this day:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2009/03/31/on-this-day-in-1492/

Mildreadful Pierce

I gave up watching the histrionic melodrama after 15 minutes of unadulterated annoyance.  Somehow the character Mildred Pierce managed to be offensive and dull, a remarkable tandem in itself.  It might be a compliment to Kate Winslet’s talent or a question of director Todd Haynes’ sanity.  In either case, however, it was not an incentive to watch.  On the contrary, the Pierce character could make baking a pie quite irritating.  I am surprised that her henpecked husband did not push the pie in her face.  I would have; Mohandas Gandhi would have.  Then we meet Pierce’s daughters.  Where was Margaret Sanger when we needed her!  The younger child is completely talentless but still insists on doing Jolson impressions.  The older brat apparently is adopted and is really the child Wallis Simpson had with Benito Mussolini. 

Yes, I am describing a comedy.  Unfortunately,  Todd Haynes did not realize it.  By distending this melodrama, he has made “Mildred Pierce” into an elephantine farce.  In this production, Kate Winslet is hopelessly miscast.  This Mildred Pierce really should be played by Harvey Fierstein or “Dame Edna Everage.”  If you are going camp, you don’t do it in half-measures.  Where was John Waters when we needed him!

Craigslist A.D. 193

There were some advantages to being a Roman emperor. For instance, until the fifth century, the pay was excellent. You would rarely be turned down at an orgy. Furthermore, the job would never be outsourced to India, if only because the Romans had but a vague notion about India’s location.

Longevity, however, was another matter. From an actuarial perspective, an emperor would have regarded murder as a natural cause of death. In a period of five centuries, Rome had more than 80 emperors. The total is imprecise because the imperial reigns often were.

The Emperor Pertinax might have expected a longer reign. He certainly was an improvement over his predecessor, the debauched and incompetent Commodus. (You remember him from “Gladiator.”) Indeed, on his own merits, Pertinax had the makings of an excellent ruler. He was conscientious, honest and capable. You could add frugality to his virtues, but that actually was a flaw in Rome. The people wanted their bread and circuses, and the Praetorian Guard expected “donations”.

The Praetorians could overlook any vice in an emperor but stinginess. Pertinax had every virtue but generosity, so he did not survive his bodyguards. Today is that dubious anniversary.

The impulsive Praetorians seized the throne but had no one to occupy it. Then the extravagantly rich Didius Julianus,  the Donald Trump of his day, simply decided to buy the position of emperor. He showed up at the Praetorians’ camp and proceeded to bid for their loyalty. Another patrician competed in the auction for the Empire, but Julianus outbid him. His purchased Praetorians then cowed the Senate into acclaiming him the emperor.

The Praetorians’ loyalty lasted two months. When an ambitious general marched on Rome, the imperial guard switched sides again. Julianus did not live to regret it. He now is remembered as a joke. (The same might be said of Donald Trump.)

Five Hours Of Mildred Pierce on HBO

My prayers have been answered.  After sitting through the two hour Joan Crawford melodrama, I was left with an insatiable gnawing hunger that could only be satisfied with an additional three hours of overripe histrionics or at least a slice of one of Mildred Pierce’s fortune-earning pies.    (For those of you unfamiliar with the plot of Mildred Pierce, imagine if Marie Callender had married Claus von Bulow and was mother of Lucretia Borgia.)  Well, those clairvoyants at HBO knew what I wanted, and it premieres tonight.

The series actually has received good reviews. The New York Times complimented the historical accuracy of the stars’ full frontal nudity.  I don’t think that we need to elaborate….However, that would be a scholarly contrast to Showtime’s “Spartacus” where most of the topless actress have tattoos of motorcycle  gangs.  (But in their nude scenes on Showtime’s Anne of Green Gables, Anne and Aunt Marilla could feasibly have Harley-Davidson tattoos; the company was founded in 1903.)

Hollywood History

It took me two tries to watch the latest version of “Robin Hood”. No, I didn’t gag at its notion that Robin (Russell Crowe) ghostwrote the Magna Carta.  I went into shock long before that–during the show’s first three minutes.  The film opens with this title card introduction:  “At the turn of the twelfth century…”  The next line should have read, “None of our characters had been born.  In fact, most of their parents hadn’t been born yet either.”  However, the introduction proceeds with an explanation of Richard the Lion Heart’s absence from England and his brother John’s misrule.  Then the action begins–with an attack on both a castle and narrative consistency– with the surtitle:  France, 1199.

This film cost over 100 million dollars to make.  Russell Crowe’s salary alone was $20 million–although that breaks down to $5 million an accent he mumbles throughout the film.  A week’s catering for  the extras cost more than most of us will make this year.  (Megan Barnes–three times champion on Jeopardy–is the glorious exception here.)  So how much more would it have cost to have a proofreader for the prologue, someone who might know when the 12th century actually occurred?

You’re right.  I am asking too much.

The following quote is from an actual ad, appearing in The New York Times. 

Chef Todd English prepares an original dish inspired by the Showtime original series The Borgias.

Todd will present his recipe for recipe for Cibreo, an original dish inspired by Rodrigo Borgia, also known as Pope Alexander VI. 

For ingredients, recipes and to learn more about The Borgias, visit originalborgiafeast.com.

The Borgia cookbook–putting the morte in mortadella.  Borgia banquets were known for their surprise ingredients.  A particular favorite was cantarella, which was said to have a very sweet flavor.  Yet, no one ever asked for a second helping.  If it is in Chef English’s “original dish”, Macy’s may have more than plates to clean up.  However, that might inspire Macy’s to bring out the Sweeney Todd cookbook.

Showtime and Macy’s could have found a safer way to market “The Borgias”.  For instance, Pope Alexander had six children.  Why not bring out a line of Renaissance style Garianimals.  Don’t underestimate the popularity of codpieces.

And from the archives here….

The Borgia Bunch

Showtime, the television network that presented a scrawny, brunet Henry VIII, is planning a series on “The Borgias”. If you are not familiar with the notorious Renaissance family, imagine the Brady Bunch in the 15th century except that Dad is a syphilitic Pope and the children are sociopaths.  (In this case, both Mrs. Brady and Alice are the mothers of the brood.)  It is the kind of heartwarming family story that has such appeal on cable television. 

Of course, the historical sex and violence won’t be ample enough for Showtime, so expect a little–actually an avalanche–of additions.  No doubt the cable Pope Alexander VI will have a passionate affair with Joan of Arc.  (It is possible since he was 4 months old when she died, and he might have been very precocious.)    Queen Isabella of Castille probably will have nude scenes, too–with Lucretia!  You are also likely to see that Gutenberg was a pornographer.  (Leonardo must have invented the video camera 500 years sooner than we realized.) And yes, Leonardo will be in the series; he really was the Borgia’s handyman.  I predict that he will be hitting on Martin Luther.  Have I left anyone out of this menage a mille?  Don’t worry.  Anyone in Europe within 100 years of the 15th century can be part of the orgy! 

At least the casting is not a scandal.  I am relieved to say that the Pope and his boy Cesare will not be played by Jerry and Ben Stiller.  His most dubious Holiness will be portrayed by Jeremy Irons.  Irons has a sly, chilly persona and sepulchral voice that makes him one of the best villains on the screen today.  I can see him weaving plots and relishing his betrayals of less clever men.  Just for his performance, I will start to watch the series.  Perhaps the gratuitous nudity won’t be too much of a bore.

And now for the lecture….Alexander VI certainly is the most notorious Pope, but he was far from the worst.  In the tenth and eleventh centuries, many of the Popes were just Roman gangsters.  During the Dark Ages, it was difficult to distinguish nobles from criminals (We have the same problem with today’s MBAs), and bandit bands would vie for the Papacy.  Get your man on the throne and you’ve got control of Rome property and the relics racket.  One family/gang–the counts of Tusculum–held the Papacy for nearly a century.  A member of the dynasty murdered his predecessor.  Another attempted to sell the Papacy.  John XII–who became Pope at the age of 18–was killed by a justifiably enraged husband.  (Some forms of communion are unacceptable.)

So, why aren’t they the “stars” of a Showtime series?  They were unintentionally discreet, the advantage of obscurity.  However vile they were, who knew other than their Roman neighbors?  In the tenth and early eleventh centuries, the Pope just wasn’t that important.  By the time of Alexander VI, however, the Papacy was far significant than just Tiber property and the relics racket.  And thanks to Gutenberg, there now was a mass media that fed the public appetite for news and gossip.  Even if only one person in your village was literate, everyone else wanted to hear what he was reading.  Alexander VI was never less than interesting.

Furthermore, however scandalous he was, Alexander VI was not incompetent.  Unlike his Medici acquaintance and eventual successor Leo X, the Borgia Pope would not have ignored Professor Luther.  On the contrary, any dispute would have been quickly–if sadly–resolved.  “Young professor dies of food poisoning while falling out of a bell tower–twice.”  Of course, with a Borgia as Pope, Luther’s idea of Reformation might have been to limited to conducting Church bingo night in German rather than Latin.

And there is one more thing to be said in Alexander VI’s favor.  If he didn’t take religion seriously, he also wasn’t a bigot.  When Ferdinand and Isabella demonstrated their idea of Christian virtue by expelling Jews from Spain, Alexander offered the refugees sanctuary in Rome.  He wasn’t providing charity but if they could afford Italy they were welcome and protected.  Compare that to Pius XII, and remind me which of the two is a candidate for sainthood.

To finance its military operations over Libya, the United States is now using coin-operated airplanes.  An American plane will not take off until $50,000 in quarters have been deposited in the coin meter.  A Pentagon spokesman admitted that a credit card system would have been  preferable, but no major bank would approve the government’s card application.  At least with this pay-as-you-bomb system, America can measure the true commitment of its allies.  For example, Saudi Arabia has purchased 12 billion dollars worth of quarters, buying out the entire “Postmaster Generals of the United States” commemorative collection.

Just this morning 14 tons of quarters were delivered to the aircraft carrier the USS Fred McMurray. (Yes, it was built during the Reagan administration; how did you guess?)  Then the coins were duly loaded into each plane’s meter.  However, the additional ton of weight left no room for actual bombs.  So the planes bombarded Libya with the quarters.  However, dropped from ten thousand feet, the coins are as deadly as the regular munitions, frequently more accurate, and still less expensive.

In a slightly related story, the State Department felt obliged to explain why U.S. planes had bombed the home of the Dalai Lama.  “No, it is not a change in policy or anything personal.  This was just a monthly interest payment to China.”

Speaking of insolvent governments, let’s not forget the historic significance of this day:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2010/03/22/how-to-run-an-empire-2/

As any Gentile could tell me, Purim is the Jewish Halloween. Yes, each year my tribe’s children dress as witches, trolls or supermen–or their Jewish equivalent–Ayn Rand, William Kristol and Superman.

And here is the translation for the other Jewish holidays.

Hannukah is the Jewish Christmas, in which we celebrate the birth of our many Jewish Messiahs: Moses, Albert Einstein, Sigmund Freud, Lenny Bruce and Bob Dylan.

Passover is the Jewish Easter, commemorating the Jewish rebirth from slave labor to white collar jobs. The holiday recounts how the ancient Jews spent 40 years wandering around New York until they found their way to Florida.

Rosh Hashonah is the Jewish World Series, in which everyone competes at the Temple to flaunt who had the best year.

Yom Kippur is the Jewish Lent where we atone for God’s continued incompetence and His implausible excuses for failing to live up to our expectations. However, in accordance with the highest standards of Jewish parents, we blame ourselves rather than that celestial brat. If only there were a Stanley Kaplan for deities….

p.s.  It is customary to celebrate Purim with a satirical skit.  This year at my Temple, the skit insinuates that Mordechai is a pimp, Esther is a gold-digging social climber and the King is a vacuous dolt.  Now, who do you think wrote such an irreverent satire?  Well, David Mamet would charge too much, Tom Stoppard wouldn’t admit to being Jewish, Tony Kushner would have included a shocking relationship with the King and Mordechai, so I guess that leaves…

Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get the skit on to this blog.  (Well, I could type it by hand but–really–are you worth the trouble?  Just the seven who wished me a Happy Birthday.)  What I can do, however, is email it to you.  If you request it, you will get a copy of “The Vizier of Oz”.  I was told to give it an Oz theme; the title was the best that I could do.  With a little more time, I really could have given the skit an Oz interpretation, at least Hollywood in the Thirties.  Joseph Kennedy would have been Haman, trying to drive the Jews out of the film industry.  Louis B. Mayer could be the vacuous king, prepared to go along with the Anti-Semite;  Mayer never seemed to realize that he would be in cattle car, too.  Mordechai can be Irving Thalberg, so then Esther would be Norma Shearer–who did convert to marry Thalberg.  Of course, that puts the Mordechai and Esther relationship in a different light, but you always suspected that, too.)

In any case, if you want to read “The Vizier of Oz”, write to me at eugene@finermanworks.com

With my form of pedantic Tourettes, I have been known to start historical lectures in crowded elevators.  I am not one to miss a captive audience.  Recently, however, I was invited to speak at my synagogue.  (Unlike the late St. Stephen, who also did not first clear the topic with the Temple’s Adult Education Program.)  My topic was the life of European Jews in the 19th century, and I had 90 minutes to discuss it.  Fortunately, being in public relations I am trained to be superficial and glib. 

In fact, let me give you a summation of the various countries’ policies toward the Jews:

England and Germany:  Shut up and assimilate.

Russia:  Die, or go to America.

Austria-Hungary:   Get rich, have fun and, if you’re in the neighborhood, drop by the Palace. 

(About those rumors that I am a lobbyist for Austria-Hungary, at the advice of my lawyer I will not comment about my Swiss bank account with 1000 pounds of marzipan in it.)

However, as always, I digress.  The Jews in the Russian Empire were obliged–by the Tsar’s cossack subtlety–to live only within restricted areas.  This confined area was known as the Russian Pale.  A member of the audience asked me the meaning of that term.  “Russian Pale” does sound like a cosmetic by Max Factor; it could have covered up his bruises from the Tsarist police.  Ironically, Factor claimed to be the court cosmetologist for the Tsar and Tsarina.  I am trying to imagine Nicholas and Alexandra–the Anti-Semitic Dagwood and Blondie–arranging designated parking at the Winter Palace for Mr. Factor’s pushcart. 

But “Russian Pale” has nothing to do with Max Factor’s delusions.  Pale is not merely a deficiency of color but also a deficiency of Latin.  The Roman word for pallid was…well…pallid, and the Roman term for a wooden stake was palus.  Of course, with their Mediterranean complexions and their stone walls, the Romans were not terribly concerned about homophonic confusion between pallid and palus.  The French, with their hand-me-down Latin, maintained some distinction between pallid and palus.  They curtailed pallid to pale, and referred to a wooden fence as a palissade.  The Normans, with their hand-me-down French, imposed their rule over England but not their complete vocabulary.   The Angle-Saxons were told the French word for their complexion, but they certainly wouldn’t be given any ideas for defending themselves. 

By the 14th century the Angle-Saxons and the Normans had grown inured to each other, and discovered a common delight in attacking France.   If the harried French forces could not find the sanctuary of a castle, they would build a rampart of wooden stakes:  the palissade.  It was a useful defense against a full-frontal assault; of course, only the French were reckless enough to use that tactic.  The English longbow archers simply shot over the palissade.  However ineffectual the structure, the English liked the word and incorporated it into their evolving language.  So, to keep the livestock in–or the Irish out, a settlement would have a palisade; the extra French “s” seemed unnecessary.  In fact, so did the last two syllables.  The word soon was shortened to pale.

As early as the 15th century, the English enclave in Ireland was known as the Pale.  Outside that perimeter was “beyond the pale.”  And four centuries later, when describing the Russian territory where Jews were permitted to live, historians referred to the area as the Russian Pale.

And, on March 17th, you have learned something else the Jews and the Irish have in common.

p.s.  Let’s not forget the historic significance of this day, other than it being my birthday:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2010/03/17/too-eire-is-humor-2/

Arab League Demands Imposition of No-Fly Zone Over Libya

(So long as it doesn’t have to pay or provide planes.)

U.S. Senators Demand No-Fly Zone Over Libya

(They are filling out the loan applications at a Beijing Pawn Shop now.  The gravel, formerly known as Mount Rushmore, will make a nice dam on the Yangtze.)

Italy Offers To Take Back Libya

Rome: Responding with an obvious empathy to chaos and corruption, Italy has offered to take back its former North African colony.  Government spokesman Gino Ironi explained, “We wouldn’t be ruling Libya.  We don’t even rule Italy.  However, we are extending the benefits of being Italian to Libyans.  Why not, they practically look Sicilian.  Of course, there will be some adjustments to the Italian style.  A multi-married Libyan will have to reclassify his surplus wives as mistresses.”

Italy also offered employment to Colonel Gaddafi. “He is pompous, tyrannical, self-righteous, and preposterously theatrical.  There is no reason he can’t be the next Pope.”

Let’s not forget the historic significance of this day:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2010/03/15/the-ides-of-march-2/

March 11th

On this day in 1851, Guiseppe Verdi presented what would be one of his most popular works: “Music to Make Pizza.”   Underestimating his importance to Italian cuisine, however, Verdi merely called the opera “Rigoletto.”  By my conservative estimate, at least 43 billion pizzas have been flipped to the musical accompaniment of “La Donna E Mobile.”

It is physically impossible to hear the aria and just order plain cheese.

Rigoletto is the story of a warped, malevolent jester who lives for vengeance.  (Perhaps I do identify with the title character although I have yet to plot the murder of any of my clients–but I am an underachiever.)  Bringing it to the stage, Verdi had to contend with the warped, malevolent jesters in the Austrian civil service.  At the time, Northern Italy was still Hapsburg property and the Austrian administrators were a bunch of suppressive prudes.  To those Austrian bluenoses, the original story was both pornographic and revolutionary.

The more tolerant French government had the same reaction when Victor Hugo dramatized the story in 1832.  His play “Le Roi S’Amuse” depicted a shamelessly lecherous king whose innumerable seductions include the daughter of his court jester.  The murderous  jester then plots to avenge his defiled (but quite gratified) daughter; as you might guess in a melodrama, there are complications and the wrong person is murdered.    The French authorities considered the play to be a vilification of the reigning monarch Louis Philippe and an incitement to rebellion.  After one performance, “Le Roi S’ Amuse” was banned in France; and it would not be performed again there for fifty years.

The Austrian censors in Northern Italy were more zealous.  They first had to approve the storyline of the proposed opera before further work could be done on it.  Of course, Hugo’s original plot was rejected.  Kings were not to be depicted in an unflattering light, and there must never be any murderous plots against them.  Verdi and his librettist Francesco Piave had to continually negotiate a plot that would survive the censors.

The Austrians did not mind the Italians depicting themselves in a sordid manner; so the setting was changed to Italia.  The role of the king could be changed to a noble; but that noble could not have any living descendants to complain to the Austrians.  Fortunately, Italian virility is overrated, and there were a number of extinct aristocratic titles and lineages.  So the King of France was demoted to the Duke of Mantua; but that was fine with the censors.

“Rigoletto” premiered in Venice  on March 11, 1851.  Given its notorious French origins, the opera was not presented in Paris until 1857.  The alterations, however, met with the approval of the French government.  Victor Hugo’s approbation was not so easily won.  He disapproved of the compromising changes perpetrated on his work.  Nonetheless, Hugo was curious enough to see “Rigoletto” and he was almost disappointed that he enjoyed it.  At least, he had a vicarious satisfaction in the opera’s success.

And he was to have another vindicating pleasure.  When, after a 50 year ban, “Le Roi S’Amuse” was again performed in Paris, Victor Hugo was there to see it.