Brendon De Jonge. Wells Fargo Championship. May 2011

Brendon de Jonge

Brendon de Jonge is my neighbor, a member of the PGA Tour, and a hell of a nice guy. A few weeks ago, I put a random letter in his mailbox, with an idea for a magazine article. Though we are neighbors, we had never met, and he could have called the police. Thankfully, he didn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. He invited me in to his home, answered my silly questions and gave me a ticket for the practice round  - where I took these pictures.

Obviously, I wish him well out there. It may be the most competitive profession in the sporting world, and the game can sometimes make fools of them too. All frustrated semi-talented amateur golfers will agree that somewhere in the deep recesses of their deluded skulls lurks a small flicker of a dream - if only we had time to practice. 

Guess what? You got no shot.

My son, Jack. Age 7.

Brendon de Jonge//Monday, May 2, 2011//by Jon Luther.

To the typical fan, life as a professional golfer looks pretty darn good.  And for the top players in the world, it is. They live quite comfortably, are largely adored and they travel in style. Many own private jets, and there are lucrative sponsorship deals and endorsements. And if they are playing extremely well, they can typically craft a schedule that fits their lifestyle.

The kids slugging it out in the middle still live pretty good, but in spite of all the perks, it can be quite a grind. Most of these guys play in 30+ tournaments a year. That’s 120+ days just playing competitive rounds of golf, not to mention travel days, practice rounds, hours on the range and pro-ams. And if the player is making a lot of cuts, it’s not inconceivable for some guys to spend less than 75 nights a year in their own bed. That is a ton of time on the road. And these are family guys, too. At a recent practice round at the Wells Fargo Championship, I overheard many pros talking with patrons about their children in a very proud, yet wistful way. They truly missed their kids.

For pros like Brendon De Jonge, who has a stepson Alex (11),  four month old Keaton and two year old Lauren at home, it means that he misses a fair amount of quality time with them and his wife Mary. I was able to sit down with Brendon at his home the Monday before the Wells Fargo Championship to discuss life on tour. I was mostly curious about what his life is like between tournaments, and how he prepares for them. As of this writing, Brendon is 61^st on the PGA Tour money list and he is ranked #93 in the World Golf rankings. He is a good young player from Zimbabwe who, after playing at Virginia Tech, turned pro and moved to Charlotte, NC. His best finish was last year at the Wells Fargo, where he finished fourth. This year, he finished 5^th at the Traditions, where for the first time he played in the final group on Sunday. It’s only a matter of time before he wins. At least I hope so, because he is a heck of a nice guy – the kind of guy you want to finish first. And in this game, it absolutely happens. Guys like Arnold Palmer, Nick Price, Ernie Els and now Rory Mcilroy and Rickie Fowler. Nice guys really do finish first. So why not Brendon?

Our conversation took place in his tree-lined backyard on a beautiful sunny afternoon. The weather in Charlotte, North Carolina in early May is absolutely perfect. The dogwoods are in bloom, bluebirds and finches are chirping away, and the temperature is a perfect 75 degrees, with a high swirling blue sky up above and honeysuckle in the air. Over the gurgle of his pool fountain, his most excellent English bulldog Gus grunts at a finch.

So I guess I should say welcome to the neighborhood. What brought you to Charlotte from Zimbabwe?

I went to college at Virginia Tech and I’ve always loved the States. Mary and I have lots of friends from college here, plus it’s only two and a half hours from VT, so its an easy drive to get back for Hokie football games. So the choice to move to Charlotte was an easy one. We have some friends here from college, there are good schools, a reasonable cost of living and it has a convenient airport – which for me is essential. And it is pretty laid back, which we like. But really more than that, the city has just a good vibe to it. It’s a pretty big city, but it doesn’t have that big city feel. We love it here.

Did you ever consider playing in Europe?

Well, I think things would have been a little different if I didn’t get through Q school that first year. Then, Europe would have been an option. But I was lucky enough to get through at Q School and I had some Nationwide Tour experience. (He was player of the year in 2008) Plus I really wanted to play on tour here and Mary is from Lexington, Virginia, which is not too far,  so it worked out well.

Where do you play in town?

I play out of Piper Glen, but I also play Quail Hollow a good bit, and we are given memberships out at Carolina Golf Club, where they played the qualifier this week. In fact, my buddy Bruce who you met just finished up playing the qualifier.

That’s a great Donald Ross design. How did he play?

I think he was one under.

Will that make it?

(Laughs) Oh, no. You need to shoot 64 or 65 in the qualifier to get in. Every week, there are about 100 or so players competing for just 4 spots.

Let's talk about your schedule. It has to be pretty hectic. How do you manage it both personally and professionally?

Well, I play a lot. I’ll probably play close to 30 tournaments this year. It is tough. Especially when you have little kids. Obviously it takes a special woman to be able to deal with the schedule, so I give a lot of credit to their mother, Mary. She is such a strong, independent woman. But you just deal with it. As best you can, you know?

You break it up some. If you are going to be on the road for a long stretch, they might come out on the road with me for a few weeks. Now that we are on the east coast for a while, it has made a big difference with me getting home Sunday nights, just to sleep in my own bed for a couple nights and see the family. But even so, I’m not complaining. The rewards definitely justify the negatives.

What about preparing for a tournament. How do you get ready?

Well, you really learn over time to manage your schedule. Most guys follow a common theme, but it varies. Monday will be a free day, just to get away from it and spend a little time at home. Tuesday will be a travel day. I’ll get to the course around lunchtime and meet up with my caddy. I’ll hit some balls, practice my short game, hit some putts and maybe play nine holes and use the pro am as another practice round. So that gives you a day, day and a half to get ready for the tournament.

How much preparation goes on with the golf course itself?

Well, all the caddies get yardage books. There’s a guy who does that every week a few weeks before the tournament. And they are incredibly accurate. And depending on how well I know the course, I may go out and play nine holes, or I might just practice and putt. When we are playing in the practice rounds, the caddies may check a few numbers, depending on the changes from last year. Also, the caddy might also walk the course early on the Thursday rounds just to see how the golf course is playing.

(Author's Note - While observing Brendon practice, I watched him (and some other pros) hit chips, pitch shots and sand shots for about an hour. Their deft around the greens is almost unsettling. 8 of 10 shots were inside 5 feet. And I saw his caddie screwing balls down deep into the rough on some short-sided chips. Make no mistake, this (and putting) is what separates goodness from greatness. Brendon's caddy is ex-European Tour looper Phil Lowe. They have been together about 6 mos. Throughout the practice session, I noticed Phil doing more than just carrying Brendon's bag - he was coaching, whispering, cajoling, and keeping his man loose. Finding a caddy you are comfortable working with (and win some tournaments with) is not easy task, and once you find one you get along with and are confident in, you tend to stay together for a while. Time will tell with Phil and Brendon, but I found myself noticing on a few occasions that they looked very comfortable together.)

Does your preparation change from week to week?

Well, obviously if something is not going so well, you will focus on it the next week.

Do you work with a swing coach?

Yes, but I will only call him if I need something specific or I notice something that needs attention. I’m not one of those guys that needs to see him every week.

How do you feel about the Pro-ams?

Pro-am’s are very necessary. There a lot of talk out there about how to change the requirements to play in the Pro-Am’s. It’s based on the money list from the previous year, so the higher on the money list, the more pro-ams you play. So it’s the same guys playing every week, some guys think that’s unfair and they should change around the selection criteria. But most of the guys understand they are necessary. There wouldn’t be a Tour without the sponsors.

Well, the places you guys play are some of the most magnificent pieces of land on the planet.

Yes. Yes, we can be pretty spoiled…

Still, you have sort of earned the right to be. I mean, I’m sitting here, genuinely amazed at the fact that I’m talking to someone who is among the Top 100 golfers on the planet. For a guy like me, it’s staggering to even think about being that good.

Well, thanks, but its more and more competitive week after week. There are a lot of very good players out there. You can't play poorly for long.

And it seems like – even with all the changes to golf courses in recent years, seemingly to make them longer and harder – scores are getting lower.

They absolutely are, yes. But guys are so good at this level, making courses longer just means the difference between hitting a 6 or an 8 iron, which is not really that big of a deal. It starts to get really difficult (like in major set ups) when they let the rough grow, let the course dry out and the greens get fast. For example, last week in New Orleans, they must have been watering the greens just as we were finishing up so they wouldn’t lose them. That's how dry and fast they were.

Do you enjoy playing in the Wells Fargo Championship?

Oh, yes. It’s great to be he home for this week. We always have some fun. I’ll have some people over tonight and tomorrow and relax a little bit. It’s great. And this is a well run tournament. Quail Hollow is one of the nicest tracks on tour. The practice facility is second to none and they treat the players very well. Mercedes courtesy cars for all players, for example. And the golf course is top notch – among the finest we play out there. It is in superb shape.

You have mentioned that your countryman, Nick Price is a mentor and hero. Tell me about that. Is there a personal relationship there?

Oh yes. Well, first of all, he’s a great guy to have as a role model. He’s a humble, very down to earth, nice guy. Genuine as can be. And he’s so very willing to share anything he’s got, you know? I always stay with him at the Honda tournament when we are down in Florida - and I’ll always pick his brain whenever I can. He’s so great about sharing things and giving advice.

That openness. Is that fairly typical with some of the older pros?

Not that typical, I don’t think…there are lots of egos out there. Nick is just a super guy.

What are your favorite courses to play?

Pebble Beach I’ve always liked a lot. And Hilton Head – I’m not usually a Pete Dye fan – but I wish there were more courses like that out there - short and tight. I’ve always liked Quail Hollow and courses like that. I like the old school parkland style golf courses. The older ones with lots of big trees. Like Oakmont and Winged Foot.

What about your personal goals?

For me, it’s pretty simple, actually. Just keep getting better. If you keep improving the rest will take care of itself.

What metrics do you pay attention to? Seems like it can get pretty stat-happy.

Well, scoring average is really the best metric, isn’t it? The lower the score, the better you get. I will sometimes pay attention to some of the specific stats, but overall, scoring average.

Do you feel like you are more of a technician or a feel player.

Definitely feel. Very much so. There are so many ways to play shots. For me, it’s really a feel thing. Also I basically play a fade, but I am really comfortable moving the ball both ways – so really it’s whatever the shot requires.

Is playing in the President’s Cup a goal?

Oh, yes. Nick is going to be the captain next time around, so that would be pretty neat to play with him. Unfortunately, it will never have the cache that the Ryder Cup has due to the history, but it would be great to play for the team.

Is the selection criteria pretty much the same as the Ryder Cup?

Yes, it’s based on world rankings. Very competitive.

Who are some of the guys you hang around with on tour?

A college roommate Johnson Wagner. Brent Snedeker, Kevin Stadler. And Boo Weekly. Some of us are under the same management company, and some I played with in college. When we are traveling around, we will go out for dinner or a drink just to break it up and relax a little bit.  

What are your favorite tournaments?

Hilton Head I like. And the new tournament in Sea Island is great. I also have a lot of friends down there. The Wells Fargo tournament is always very popular with all the guys. They just treat us so well here….and the practice facility is as good as it gets on tour. And obviously, the major tournaments. I love to play in those.

Have you played in the Masters yet?

(Laughs) No, but that one is obviously a goal of mine.

Well, Thanks Brendon. And play well this week.

I’ll do my best!

The Wide Open Sky

As a novice songwriter, I am always fascinated to read about what successful artists say about the subject. More often than not, even prolific writers like Paul Simon and Neil Young have trouble putting their finger on exactly how songs get written. One thing is for sure, there are no rules and there are no shortcuts. Songs either come to you or they do not. And while there are software programs and books that can help you organize your thoughts and provide tools such as rhyming dictionaries, thesauri and the like, there are no templates or machines, even in these app driven times, that can spit out hit songs. Tools are one thing. Striking gold is quite another. In the words of the great Tenacious D, it's about finding "Inspirado."

As a frustrated writer, I submit that songwriting is probably the most challenging and intimidating kind of writing. Typically, the subject matter is incredibly personal and not only do you have to find words that fit an idea or an image in your head, it also has to fit into a specific musical and lyrical form. Then you have to play it in front of people. Baring your soul in front of a room full of strangers can be a bit intimidating, and has probably cost the world more than a few great songs.

Also, writing styles are amorphous. There are those, like Robbie Robertson, who are “outside in” writers. That is, who write about other people (The Weight), historical events (The Night they drove old Dixie Down), or an entire exodus (Acadian Driftwood). When done well, as in Robertson’s case, they create a certain imagery and convey color and emotion that can be truly transcendental - like little movies. I am envious of songwriters who can do this well. Others write about themselves and their feelings and experiences. This style of writing can be easier due to the access to the subject matter, (provided of course, that you are able to self examine and have traveled and/or experienced things) but they can be intimidating to share if the songs cut too close to the bone. Most write about love, some write about food. It’s a dodgy craft. And whatever the style or subject matter, the muse is elusive. Some songs may take years and years to write, edit and complete and some reveal themselves to you all at once – complete the minute it pops into your head. And sometimes inspiration comes from something completely unexpected. I thought I would share the following songwriting experience in the hopes that it would perhaps help other writers shake off some cobwebs. 


The song below was inspired by the above photograph I took this winter. As I was driving around one day, I noticed a huge condemned haybarn and farmhouse not far from my house. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, and when the light was better (around sunset) I returned with my camera and took a bunch of pictures. One of them came out sort of blurry and out-of-focus. (Mostly because I had no idea how the camera worked) But something about the blurred picture of the old farmhouse spoke to me. Not sure if it was the structure, the memories locked within, my ideas about it’s demise, this idea of rebirth that I had in my head, or the fact that I was battling some internal demons at the time, (most likely all of the above) but four words popped into my head – The Wide Open Sky - and I wrote the following song based on that idea.

The chorus and refrain came first, then verse one and two, then verse three about two weeks later, after I had a demo. As far as the music, I had a simple I-V chord progression I was messing with in G that I liked, but there was something that didn’t quite fit. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then, I heard a version of the Neil Young song, “Words (Between the lines of Age)” by Chip Miller on a Harvest tribute album. I began to play around with the chord progression, transposed it to B minor, and it fit perfectly for the verses. So I wrote a few simple embellishments and played with a few different arrangements until I got something I really liked. 

To write a song in that manner was a revelation. Maybe it’s the evolution of my songwriting or maybe it was just one of those bolts of lightning. But however it came together, the process just felt right. It's as if a huge door has opened for me, and it happened by chance. It's bizzare how that works. Wonderous, even, One thing is for certain, I’m going to take a few more pictures to see if it happens again. 


And so I would encourage any songwriter to try to seek out inspiration and dabble in other art forms to inspire you. Try painting, writing prose, taking pictures, whatever. The biggest lesson I learned during this process is to always keep my eyes open. The living world is awash with inspiration.

Learnings:

• Seek out inspiration
• Play your instrument often, jam as much as you can and try to find a groove. 
• Listen to the greats and when appropriate, appropriate. (Or, as T.S. Eliot said, "Immature poets imitate, mature poets steal.")
• Look at other forms of art, especially photographs, for inspiration.
• Write everything down and record practice sessions if possible. A lost idea can be devastating.

The Wide Open Sky

Capo II (Bm)

Intro: Bm-A-Bm (3x)

Bm – G – A - Bm

I can’t shake this feeling, things aren’t what they seem

Sure enough surprise you, Like waking from a dream

Days growing together, Links in endless chains

Losing all of my soul, changing up my names

Answered to the wrong things, beckoning to me

It was on the table, a simple mystery

Swinging from the rafters, ‘til my arms were numb

Falling to the floor, I scraped up every crumb

Surely slowly melting, from the inside out

Forgetting who I was, what it’s all about…

PRE- CHORUS

Bm-G-A-Bm

Always another train

Rolling down the line

Get me to the station

Before I run out of time

Bm – G – A – Bm

Stare…Stare

at the wide open sky

See the sun. Rise.

In the wide open sky (Bm-A-Bm)

          A                  Bm

In the wide open sky….repeat

Trying to remember, it was like before

You darkened up my doorstep, busted in my door

Out flew all the innocence I tried so hard to keep

And I became an older man while I was fast asleep

Pre Chorus

Chorus


Solo (in B)

Chorus then out.

Playing with the King

Me and the King. Bay Hill Men's Grill. November 2009

Two heroes. My Dad and Arnold Palmer.

Playing a round of golf with Arnold Palmer and my father at Bay Hill was far and away the highlight of my golf career. My father introduced me to the game at a young age and I have played more rounds of golf with my dad than anyone on this planet. And I always enjoy being on the golf course with him. I have played Winged Foot, Shinnecock and Augusta by his side, but we both grew up hacking around munis like the Sleeping Giant Golf Club in Hamden, CT and the now defunct Laurel Oak C.C. in Voorhees, NJ. For both of us to play with Mr. Palmer at Bay Hill was something way beyond special. He had met Arnold months earlier at the Bay Hill invitational to discuss a business opportunity and ended up hitting it off with him. And so here I am on the practice tee at Bay Hill, pounding left handed 8 irons into the breezy November morning. It is unseasonably chilly, but the sun is out and it is a glorious day. My dad is next to me, warming up. He is left handed, too, as is Art Sanchagrin, our generous and affable host for the day.

I keep glancing back towards the clubhouse, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. He finally appears in a custom golf cart, complete with chromed out wheels, full leather seats and headrests festooned with the familiar multicolored umbrella logo that is and will always be the visual representation of the Arnold Palmer brand. It adorns almost everything at Bay Hill. Tee markers, shirts, cups, ball marks, glasses, airplanes, ties and lapels. Folks around him sport the symbol proudly, as if it marks inclusion into a secret society.  He is 80 now, and it shows, his body racked by years in the sun, chasing around a little white ball. But his mind is sharp and he doesn’t miss a thing. Shaking his head, the first thing he says as he watches us warm up is, “Are you kidding?” He groans, “We’re playing with three lefties?!” His eyes sparkle and his face breaks into a warm grin as I shake his hand, a catcher’s mitt of an appendage. He is in the final stages of destroying a hot dog from the starter shack (Mustard/relish, in case you care about that stuff) and he chews purposefully for a few seconds then says, “OK. Let’s go…” 


He kisses his second wife Kit goodbye and begins the arduous task of warming up. I watch, fascinated. He does some light stretching and gets right into it. Wham, wham, wham. His swing, which was never fluid, has not really changed much. It is a bit shorter - which, if I hadn’t witnessed myself, would have considered an impossibility. But there it is. Back and through. Wham, wham, wham. Mr. Palmer is positively striping golf balls off the practice tee. (I called him Mr. Palmer out of pure respect. Thankfully, he never told me to call him “Arnold” or “Arnie.” That was his show of respect back to me. A small effort of grace I will never forget)

Gone are the blades. His clubs are mostly hybrids now, except for the wedges. But what I notice immediately are the grips. They are leather and powdered with talc. Real cowhide. A bit oversized and hand wrapped. You never see grips like this anymore. Ever. It defines “old school” and is close to the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. He his a few more balls and the Bay Hill Shootout begins. It is a game that has grown to legendary status at the club. The Shootout is played weekly at Bay Hill. The golf course and club was opened in 1962, and this modified stableford format is probably as old. On this day, we have 30 players. Everyone is supposed to pony up $40 in cash at the starter shack. (Even Mr. Palmer) However, some don’t. News of the weak pot spreads amongst the players. After a wave of grumbling ensues about who has “alligator arms”, the usual culprits fess up, cough up the cash and we are off. (It’s always the same guys, I’m told)

After common golf first tee pleasantries, I am given the honor to tee off first; not noticing the small cabal of golferazzi that have now surrounded the first tee. Super. I get a target line from Mr. Palmer and try to hit it at the left edge of the fairway bunker, as suggested. There are several highly evolved cameras shooting full motion video, capturing every move in full 1080 HD. Expensive digital cameras are snapping away from all sides, images of this moment sure to be emailed around the globe seconds after impact. The ghost of every man, woman and child I have ever had the privilege to share a golf course with haunts my feeble brain. I waggle a few times, take dead aim, and proceed to completely quit on a 3-wood that had the potential to change my life. Like many times before, I watch aghast, as my brand new, freshly marked, state of the art, two-piece golf ball rockets out of bounds left. Smack in the middle of the driving range. A collective groan emits from the small crowd. For me, it is a death knell. I proceed to shoot a million. (Interesting note: the tee markers at Bay Hill are actually little iron umbrellas. When casually struck with a titanium driver after a complete block/snipe driver, it rings true in a perfect B flat)

We played the championship course, the site of the Bay Hill Invitational. It is a twisted affair. The wind is gusting at 20 plus and we were, after being lulled by the relatively benign first hole, punched in the face with hole after hole of flummoxing wind, tight, wet driving holes, and diabolical pins, with sloping Bermuda greens that made both speed and line a formidable challenge. Mr. Palmer had many little 12 footers all day. He didn’t make one. And he was mad. Really mad. He is a fierce competitor. He still expects to shoot 62 and he can’t anymore. This is the essence of the man. He can’t. And he’s pissed. There are probably three 80 year olds in the world that could break 85 in conditions like this. Mr. Palmer shoots a ho-hum 82. An 82 that absolutely could have been a 75, easy. Saw it with my own eyes. My dad and I manage to finish in the money (no thanks to me) and we collect our loot and have a few drinks in the men’s grill after the round. That’s when the real fun begins. Arnie only has one or two, but he gets the group going by questioning loudly, “Who’s drinking with me?!”

What a day. Like my dad, Mr. Palmer is one of the last real heroes. His life was his game, and his game was his life. He is, and will always be, a pioneer. As an aviator, businessman, author, designer, athlete and family man, he rose to the apex of each of these disciplines individually and with great integrity.  He invented the athlete/agent relationship, yet remains his own brand, with complete and exciting control. He accepted victory and fame with grace and humility, and paid respect to those that came before him. He surrounds himself with loyal and beautiful friends. He loves the game of golf and all that it is. He is a seven-time Major Championship winner, often winning in spectacular fashion. (1960 US Open at Cherry Hills comes to mind, roaring back from 7 down) In a word, he is Zeus. Yet, on those rare and epic occasions when he did not win, he did so with the same grace and humility. And this is perhaps his greatest lesson of all. 

Mexicali Blues

Back in the day, I worked for a start-up restaurant company in Philadelphia called Cool Peppers. I helped build and open four stores in three years before we ran out of money and had to shutter them all.  A shame, too because we were way ahead of our time, pioneering a type of restaurant (fresh Mexican grill) that had not seen the light of day in the East. (When we started, Chipotle only had two restaurants open, now they have well over 1000) Fresh Mexican was a tough sell in 1995, especially in a cheese steak and hot pretzel town, but we gave it one helluva run. 

While I was there, I apprenticed under Chef Corbin Evans, who created the original menu and concept with his dad, Ken. Chef Corbin taught me how to cook in a professional kitchen and he taught me the chemistry of cooking. He also, although I’m sure he has no idea, instilled a passion for food in me that remains to this day and has in fact grown much stronger since we closed the last Cool Peppers. He taught me to never compromise on freshness and quality and to never, ever serve food that was not up to the high standards we created. The following recipes are based on ones he created for the original Cool Peppers menu. I still long for our Mucho Grande burrito, freshly made tortillas, garlicky tomato rice, black beans and guacamole. Thankfully the recipes remain. I lost touch with Chef Corbin soon after the Cool Peppers experience. Recently I heard he was teaching at a cooking school in New York. One of these days I am going to look him up, just to say thanks.

Tortilla Soup

We didn’t make this too often at the restaurant, maybe every other week depending on demand, and the recipe has evolved some, (The roasted corn was something I added later) but it was one of my favorite things to make (and eat). The key to the dish is preparing stock from scratch (recipe follows) and serving it with lots of fresh squeezed limes. 

4 cups onion, small dice

2 cups bell pepper, small dice

2 cups carrots, small dice

2 cloves garlic, crushed

2 TBL tomato paste

2 cans of green chiles

2 quarts chicken stock (See below)

Shredded chicken from stock

4 ears roasted corn (See below)

2 avocados, cubed

2 oz. shredded tortillas, cut into small cubes

6 fresh corn tortillas cut into thin strips and fried until crisp.

Shredded Monterey Jack or Chihuahua cheese

Fresh lime wedges

Olive oil

S&P to taste

1. Coat the bottom of a large Dutch oven with olive oil and heat under medium high heat until shimmering

2. Add onion, carrots and bell pepper and sweat vegetables until softened, about 5 minutes.

3. Add garlic for and sauté 2 min until fragrant.

4. Add tomato paste and stir to incorporate vegetables. Heat until moisture evaporates, stirring often.

5. Deglaze with one cup of the stock and stir, scraping up the fond. (Browned bits on bottom of pan)

6. Add the rest of the stock, simmer and skim for about an hour and a half, skimming any foam that rises to the surface.

7. Add cubed tortillas and simmer 15 min.

8. Add chicken and corn and simmer another 15 min.

9. Taste and adjust seasonings, remove from heat.

10. When ready to serve, ladle hot soup into bowls, top with cheese, 2 oz. shredded chicken, avocado and lime wedges.

Chicken Stock

One whole chicken plus four chicken thighs

2 Bell peppers, med dice

2 One large Vidalia onion, med dice

Three carrots, scraped clean and cut into 1/2 in. "coins"

3 cloves garlic, crushed

½ C White Wine

In a 3 qt. Dutch oven, coat the bottom of the pan with olive oil and heat until shimmering.

1.    Brown chicken thighs in olive oil, remove and reserve

2.    Add vegetables and sauté for 3 minutes

3.    Deglaze pot with white wine and stir

4.    Add whole chicken and thighs and cover with water.

5.    Bring to a boil and skim any scum that rises.

6.    Add bay leaf, black pepper, Italian parsley, and Salt, simmer for 1:15.

7.    Remove chicken from pot, let cool, and remove meat from bones

8.    Add bones back to stock and simmer one more hour to hour and a half, pick through and shred chicken and reserve

9.    Strain stock, discarding solids, strain again in fine mesh strainer and reserve.

Makes about 2 Qts.

Cool Peppers “Firegrilled” Salsa

My life changed the moment I first tasted this grilled tomato salsa. It was by far our most popular and I made it almost every day for three years – well over 500 batches. Grilling the tomatoes adds an indescribable smoky flavor, the charred onions provide a soft, sweet crunch and the lime and serranos add bright citrusy heat. It’s a simple and versatile salsa that works with tortilla chips, on tacos and in the above tortilla soup. But it also works brilliantly with grilled flank steak, chicken or a nice cut of tuna or swordfish.

5 lbs ripe roma tomatoes

2 medium size onions (Vidalia work well)

2 serrano chiles

Juice from one lime

Kosher salt

1. Grill tomatoes, onions and chiles on a hot grill until blackened all over and soft, gently turning on the grill

2. Place tomatoes in a large bowl, reserve tomato juices that collect around the tomatoes and let cool

3. Meanwhile roughly chop the onions and mince the chiles

4. Pulse tomatoes in a blender and pulse a few times until chunky yet smooth. Do not puree.

5. Add onions and chiles and mix well. If the mixture is too thick, add a little of the tomato water.

6. Add about 1 T of salt, lime juice, mix well and let stand at room temperature.

7. Taste and add lime and salt to taste (The key here is balancing all the flavors)

8. You may freeze unused portion for up to 3 months, but it’s best to eat this salsa when it’s fresh.

Grill Roasted Corn

Corn is delicious on the grill right off the cob with a little chile-lime butter, but it really makes the tortilla soup (or any other recipe that calls for canned corn) come alive.

4 ears corn, half shucked (Remove the husk from half the corn, exposing kernels, and just the outer leaves of the other half

1. Grill kernel side down until blackened, about 4-5 minutes.

2. Turn on to husk side and grill for another 4 minutes, watching for husk “flare-ups.”

3. Cut corn off the husks, break up kernels and reserve.

4. Scrape the “milk” from the cob with the back of a large chef’s knife and add to kernels.

Chile-lime butter

1 stick unsalted butter softened

1TBL chili powder

1 tsp. cayenne pepper or a few shakes of Tabasco sauce

3 T lime juice (about half a lime)

1 tsp. kosher salt

1. Cream butter with remainder of ingredients, roll into a round “log” in a piece of saran wrap

2. Put into fridge until well chilled.

Use as you would use regular butter. Especially good on corn or a juicy ribeye.

Family Style

Three Generations: 

Jonathan Luther, Tiffany Bowers (Luther), Sharon Luther and Mary Dickman. 

Juno Beach, Florida. 12.27.2010

Sarma, Family Style.

Some of my earliest memories are from inside of a kitchen in Depew, New York, looking up at a sea of thick-legged Balkan women cooking up a storm. At the eye of the hurricane was my great grandmother Milka (Millie, we called her) meticulously cutting dough into thin ribbons for her chicken noodle soup and calling out instructions to her daughters (Kay, Louise and Dorothy) and my great grandmother Mary for the final hectic push to turn out yet another massive Serbian Christmas dinner. Each serving plate is laid out on my aunt Dorothy’s large kitchen table, which serves as a staging area for soup - traditionally the first course - then a barrage of dishes. Too many, really. There was spit roasted pig, tended to by my Uncle Joe Dragich and the men of the family, who guarded the swine, drank beer and told stories in the garage. Plates of roasted root vegetables, simmered greens and buttery mashed potatoes would flood the table. And at the center, always Sarma – little rolls of sweet simmered cabbage, ground beef and rice. It is humble peasant cooking in one big pot - simple, deeply flavorful and traditional. A common but uniquely Serbian dish that not only presages modern comfort food, it defines it.

Simple yes, but not easy. Making Sarma involves several very particular stages. A lengthy process that typically allows for the women to gossip in the kitchen for a few hours while the men get loaded in the garage. This works out beautifully for all involved - especially for a little kid like me who could usually bounce from the kitchen to the garage unfettered, pilfering morsels from the table and nasty swigs of warm Genesee beer from Uncle William’s bottle to wash it down.

Making Sarma is something that is handed down from generation to generation. There is no known recipe. Because it does not exist, the only way to learn to make it is to make it with someone who knows. And so, after some years, when I developed a passion for food and cooking, I began to pay more attention to these traditional dishes and decided to document these recipes (There are many more to come, I hope) for the ages. Thankfully, my sister Tiffany and I got the chance this past Christmas to learn how to make Sarma and mashed potatoes first hand from my grandmother Mary Dickman and my mom, Sharon Luther. 

Mary is an amazing woman in her own right and at ninety-two is still sharp. She and her sister Dorothy are the only ones left of their generation and each look out for one another, even though they are a thousand miles apart. Dorothy still lives in Buffalo, where my family settled in the early 1900’s, and Mary lives in South Florida. It was a great afternoon. Just elbow deep in cabbage and raw meat. We even called Dorothy for a quick consult. Every family should spend some time together like this now and then.

 And although the memories of my Aunt Dorothy’s kitchen have some faded edges to them, this time with my family was vivid and beautiful. It was a tacit passing of the flame. For many reasons, I have learned to appreciate these moments tremendously.  Make no mistake, in the end it’s your family who will show up.

After a long and wonderful life, my great grandma Millie passed away peacefully in her sleep in 1992 at the age of 98.  It was my 25th birthday. And although sad, I felt fortunate to have so much time with her on this planet. She and I shared a special bond, and I really felt her presence in the room, sitting quietly in her little corner chair in the kitchen, watching us cook. And I know she was happy.  I just know it. It was her kind of scene.

SARMA

2 heads fresh green cabbage, cored

1 1/2 LBS. ground beef

1 1/2 LBS. ground pork

1 ½ cups long grain rice

1 onion, small dice

2 ribs celery, small dice

2 28 oz cans of sauerkraut, drained and rinsed

2 cans of diced tomatoes

6 pork chops

1 can tomato juice, another ½ can cold water or chicken stock.

Olive Oil

1 TBL. Butter

Recipe:

1. Mix beef and pork, season with salt and pepper

2. In a skillet, over medium high heat, sauté the onion, celery in butter and rendered bacon fat.

3. Add rice and sauté about 3 minutes until rice is fragrant. Add to beef mixture, mix well and reserve.

4. Core cabbage, removing any damaged outer leaves. 


5. In a large pot, cover the cored cabbage with cold salted water and bring to a gentle boil.

6. As cabbage boils, remove outer leaves gently, keeping leaves as intact as possible, shaving off the large outer pieces of the ribs. Reserve any small or torn pieces.

7. Spoon about 1 T beef mixture into each cabbage leaf and roll, carefully tucking edges in and place on a baking sheet. (Should yield about 30 rolls)

8. Line the bottom of a large Dutch oven with small and torn cabbage pieces. Add bottom layer of cabbage rolls, top with sauerkraut and tomatoes; layer another layer of cabbage rolls, top with remaining sauerkraut and tomatoes.

9. Place pork chops on top of sauerkraut; pour tomato juice and water over cabbage mix until just covered. Shake the pan a little to settle the liquid

10. Partially cover and gently bring to a boil over medium high heat, then turn heat to medium and simmer for ninety minutes or until rice is cooked. (To be sure, liberate one of the rolls and test for doneness and seasoning) Adjust accordingly. When done, remove from heat and let cool for 15 min.

11. Serve cabbage rolls with lots of the loose cabbage and tomato gravy over creamy mashed potatoes.