Milepost 61

The big '6-1' milestone is thankfully in the rearview mirror. I don't feel much different.
Maybe it's just the number, but I've twice caught myself thinking about Bob Dylan's "Highway 61." You know, "God said to Abraham, kill me a son....Well, Abe says, 'Where you want this killin' done?' God says, 'Out on Highway 61.'"
When I visited my brother in Louisiana, he took me up the Natchez Trace via Highway 61 from his home in Monterey, which was at that time across the river from Natchez. I got a photo of Mammy's Cupboard at 555 Highway 61, a restaurant in a 28-foot tall black woman's skirt.
I'd heard one of the verses to Bob Dylan's "Highway 61" a number of times over the years, but it wasn't until I went down there that I understood it:
"Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night told the first father that things weren't right.
'My complexion, she said, is much too white.'
He said, 'Come here and step into the light.' He says, 'Hmm you're right.
'Let me tell the second mother this has been done.'
Aw, but the second mother was with the seventh son and they were both out on Highway 61."
Okay, maybe I don't understand it all, but I have an inkling.
While the old Southern ways are mostly a thing of the past, all you have to do is scratch the surface and they are there. Some of the antebellum mansions offer a revisionist version of the slave quarters tour. Others don't.
One legacy of the old South is its cuisine. I don't think there are that many bad Southern cooks (okay, maybe Paula Deen on a bad butter day), male or female.
I'm getting our light Sunday supper ready soon, nothing more than maybe a salad and some strawberry shortcake.
I'm doing it the old Southern way, piling the strawberries (sweetened with Splenda/erythritol) on cut leftover low-fat biscuits. I'll give them just under 30 seconds in the microwave, put the macerated berries on top, and crown it all with some (low-fat, no sugar) vanilla Breyer's ice cream.
Hey, it will be pretty damn good.
So was lunch. Mom wanted to take me out for my (post)birthday, but as I told her, there's nowhere around here that I'd rather eat. Before the Moira Smily and VOCO concert, we went to Skamania Lodge's River Rock Room, and I had an Asian seafood appetizer plate that was tasty. Mom had a chicken wrap.
My sis and her husband treated me to birthday lunch at Big River Grill, and I had grilled salmon with a salad and their tomato basil dressing, which was also excellent. I splurged, and had citrus cheesecake for the (birthday cake) dessert, scraping off the whipped cream and leaving most of the crust.
Having been to two out of three of the best restaurants in the area in two days, I opted instead for a trip to the store for Sunday dinner makings. I already had some asparagus, scallions and mushrooms. I bought two chicken breasts, strawberries, wine and other groceries. (Including a frozen two-pound bag of shrimp in their jackets, on sale for $7.99, as I figure the Gulf oil spill will soon make them a thing of the past.) Crossing to the street after buying my Sunday New York Times at Lesley's Books, I saw a red car cruise by --- my sis and her husband, on their way out of town after a cruise up Wind River and a night at Bonneville Hot Springs. I invited them to lunch, but they were on their way to meet his parents at Corbett at 1 p.m.
Hurrying home, I turned the oven to 425 degrees and threw the two chicken breasts on foil on a sheet pan, sprinkling them with salt, fresh pepper, garlic, a little wine, fresh thyme and chive sprigs. I also split the skinny loaf of sourdough french bread I'd just bought and chopped two big cloves of garlic, a little Hungarian paprika and fake butter (Smart Squeeze), wrapping the bread in foil and throwing it on the other oven rack. I turned up the heat on one burner with salted water for pasta, (Ronzoni Smart Taste supposedly more healthful spaghetti), then fired up the burner my brother-in-law fixed yesterday (my best birthday present, as I told him, along with the now non-dribbling toilet he tinkered with).
I added a little canola to a non-stick skillet, and cut up two more cloves of garlic, a dozen or so asparagus spears, half a red sweet pepper, three mushrooms, a scallion, and a handful of fresh herbs from our containers and beds --- two kinds of thyme, three kinds of basil, some marjoram, oregano, chives and a touch of sage. I cut the herbs with scissors directly into the sauteeing vegetables, after splashing a little wine in that pan, too.
The pasta was still al dente and it was 25 minutes after 12 when I added small amounts of fat-free half and half, a little evaporated milk, some no-fat cream cheese and low-fat sour cream to the pan with the pasta and vegetables, tossing it all.
It was ready to plate when Mom stepped in the door at 12:35. I don't think we could have done better at any local restaurant, and it was all low fat.
Besides, I was tired of going out. However, I learned that Moira Smiley and VOCO are at the Alberta Street Public House in Portland tonight, and I am mightily tempted....