Guilty Pleasures

photo from wbez.org

This week, Elise took me to Links Hall to see their residency shows. Links Hall is a performance venue (with a full bar!) that also offers four residencies a year, giving rehearsal space, a modest stipend, and a mentor who is a working artist in Chicago to the participating artists. It seems like a great program, and Elise should be a part of it. I can just imagine what six months of rehearsal time would yield for her work!

The two performances last night were in very different stages of development: The first felt very much like we were inside the mind of the artist and seeing the ideas about Third Culture she was bouncing around, but a piece had yet to emerge. The residency gave her time to delve into it, to get some stories out and some articulation to an Idea she wanted to work with.

The second piece felt much more like a finished product, though there was a disclaimer that it was a work-in-progress and may continue to grow and break off into separate entities. It was titled Amok, and was written and directed by the artist Karen Yates. It began with a gamelan ensemble, which made me think of my mom, who introduced me to gamelan music when she played in an ensemble in Lexington. Then nutmeg was passed around to be held and sniffed, and the performers began reciting recipes for spiced wine, or a melange to ward off the plague or impotence. From there the piece delved into the spice trade, the voracious and relentless Jan Coen of the VOC, and the volcanic eruption of Krakatoa.

I take spices for granted. Sure, their trade isn't as brutal as it once was, but I rarely think about where they come from when I buy them at the grocery store. For a moment I wonder "Where did this come from?" as I reach for paprika or cumin, but the question doesn't linger for long or develop. Amok was a satisfying bite into the disturbing reality of where popular spices like pepper, cinnamon, and nutmeg came from.

From the beginning of the performance, I thought of the spice cake I made months ago, the one that prompted me to begin this blog, so when at one point a performer came high-stepping onto the stage in a red apron chanting: "This is how you make a cake! A cake. A CAKE," I felt like giving a little hoot. Her exaggerated stirring pantomime gave way to a brutal punching motion, and her face and voice took on a Hulk-like quality. Oh yes, I remembered, this isn't a Good Housekeeping recipe.

It was an involving, intelligent performance, and I'd encourage you to keep an eye on Yates's website to see how it develops.

All this said, this week I made a pie with a noticeable absence of spice. I am ever so slowly working my way through The Office, and this week I watched an episode where the Everyman hero, Jim Halpert, tries to make the best out of a day in a cramped "work bus" and more importantly, to give his paramour a sweet surprise, by convincing his nemesis/friend to drive the office to a little pie stand.

"What do we want?"
"Pies!"
"When do we want it?"
"Pies!"

They talk about the glory of banana cream pie, and how it is always the first to sell out, and that made me want to make one.

The magnificent Banana Cream Pie by Gardner Pie Co. (Akron, OH)

I had a big fantasy of what a banana cream pie would like like and involve, but in reality, the Good Housekeeping version is vanilla pudding, banana slices, and whipped cream in a vanilla wafer crumb crust.

But you know, that's ok, too. Good Housekeeping offers little (no) guidance on how to garnish the pie, so I took inspiration from the internet:

culinary.net

and decided not to go with the diner variety:

WHIPPED CREAM AND WAFERS 4 LIFE

My finished product:

I tried to be fancy with the whipped cream and added salt and vanilla. Too much salt. So I tried to compensate with honey. The result is not so bad, when it combines with the sweet filling. The cake is maybe still not fully set, since when I cut a piece the filling and whipped cream sort of seeped in to fill the empty space. But I had to try it RIGHT NOW! 

It's pretty good. Guilty-pleasure good, like listening to a playlist of Katy Perry and ABBA.