Category: Blog Post

  • Lynne Rossetto Kasper: Tuscan Princess and Peasant Chef

    Southern Italy is full of svelte young women running around in black leather coats and exquisite, sharp-pointed shoes who eat pasta every day. I don’t know how they do it.

    Yes, I’m referring to the shoes in part: torturous contraptions that look as if they could cause hammer toes within about an hour. But more than that, I’m talking about the diet which is full of simple carbs: pasta, bread, citrus fruits. And cheese, which as protein sources go is unusually rife with fat and sugars. During the time we were there, I did as the Romans do. . . .and despite the fact that everything was tasty — the noodles flaxen, homemade, and cooked al dente (which, by the way, lowers the glycemic index by quite a bit) — after about three days I felt tired and irritable and all gluey inside.

    It was a great relief to me when we crossed over the transparent border into northern Italy and entered Tuscany, where the cuisine trends more toward meat, vegetables, and one of my favorite dishes in the world — a stew typically made of tomatoes, garlic, sage, and cannellini beans called fagioli. We had dinner one night in Lucca, a beautiful little walled Tuscan village, at a place called Trattoria da Leo: boiled sausage with fagioli and a side dish of cauliflower covered in a thin blanket of parmigiano-reggiano.

    Even better was the meal ate in Florence, at a lovely sidestreet cafe called Ristorante Cafaggi, on our last day overseas.

    Rare duck breast in a savory balsamic vinegar sauce with arugula, braised Swiss chard, and — of course — fagioli, only this time it had bits of sweet, sundried pomodoro and hot pepper folded into the bean stew. The place was run by an honest-to-goodness Italian grandmother and her son, who served us personally. They welcomed us like family and came out from behind the counter to say goodbye when we left.

    I am not, of course, the first food expert to come out with a preference for the peasant cuisine of northern Italy over the Americanized pasta-and-sauce offerings of the South. In 1992, Lynne Rossetto Kasper wrote The Splendid Table: Recipes from Emilia-Romagna, the Heartland of Northern Italian Food, which won both a James Beard award and a Julia Child Best Cookbook of the Year. In this book, Kasper — who went on to parlay the name The Splendid Table into a great radio show for American Public Media — sang the praises of simple, regional Tuscan fare including balsamic vinegar, prosciutto di Parma, rabbit, and pot-roasted lamb.

    Forget such drivel as Under the Tuscan Sun, Kasper did more to convey the beauty and bounty of Tuscany than any soft-core romance memoir ever could. What’s more, I’ve known Lynne for years — interviewing her perhaps a half dozen times — and she is in person exactly like her radio personality. Warm, generous, open, and wild about good food. She’s also a fine, formidable lady who’s told me honestly about her past in the theater, her shoestring budget at the outset of Splendid Table, and her very personal struggles with weight and body image.

    Next month, Lynne’s newest book, The Splendid Table’s How to Eat Supper: Recipes, Stories, and Opinions from Public Radio’s Award-Winning Food Show, will be released. And the incredibly cumbersome title notwithstanding, I expect great things. Stay tuned for a description of the book, which I will receive for review very soon. And meantime, check out Kasper’s original publication if it’s not already in your cookbook library.

    You’ll need some cold-pressed olive oil and a really good bottle of balsamic. Then, I trust, you and Lynne can do the rest.

  • The Durable Roots Lexicon of Ray Bonneville

    Like most all country-blues artists, Ray Bonneville doesn’t try to knock your socks off so much as fit you into a comfortable old pair of shoes. But the Canadian native separates himself from singer-songwriter cliches with a slow but steady revelation of his myriad talents. His (mostly electrical) guitar and harmonica work is economical and wise, abetting vocals reminiscent of JJ Cale for their fine-sandpaper tone and conversational aplomb. What cinches these gifts together, and makes Bonneville such a durably consistent pleasure, is his assured yet humble songwriting.

    I’ve only heard two of the man’s six discs, the ones for Red House, Roll it down from 2004 and this year’s Goin’ by feel. Both are unusually user-friendly, the kind of soundtrack that’s jaunty enough to help you cook breakfast or fold the laundry, sufficiently easygoing to climb into the back seat of your brain when other priorities or daydreams emerge, and yet insightful and incisive enough to reward careful listening without a lyric sheet. On each disc, the songs go together, not so much by topic, but, as the second record puts, "by feel." They’re generally plainspoken narratives sewn with the classic instrumental braid of country blues, yet enough care has been invested in the craft to yield different shadings, meanings, and resonant riffs with every new spin.

    Let’s get specific. I love the way Bonneville will occasional tumble for the sheer phonics and punning of songwriting, like the way "Tiptoe Spider" (from Roll it down) is so tiptoe-spidery in its clamber-prancing guitar lines, with the added bonus that the antagonist in the narrative is a fairly creepy character. Or, from the new one, "What Katy Did," which has a birdlike flit–the vocal hopping on the hard vowels while the guitar and bass worry the groove–but also is a case study in trust and intimacy (would you tell a secret?) masquerading as a tale of crime.

    I also love the quality of the marriage between the lyrics and the music. On "Walk With Me" (from Roll it down), for example, the sentiment is one of muted infatuation, a guy tamping down his ecstasy to both keep feigning coolness and to protect his vulnerable heart, perfectly expressed not only in the vocal inflections but the gentle spangles in the blues guitar phrases and the extra dollop of elbow grease in the beats. Most of the time, however, Bonneville dawdles for effect. The wistful slide guitar on "Oxford Town" (Roll it down) is perfectly paced for reverie, and even the New Orleans groove of "You Know What I Mean" (Roll it down) stays with you because it feels like its done at 3/4 speed.

    Goin’ by feel is more spare and New Orleans-centric than Roll it down, and after thinking it didn’t measure up, it’s begun to suck me in. There are obvious tracks like the postcard/valentine "I Am The Big Easy," with its picaresque recitation of dice-rollin’ judges and crawfish boys, and the sleek, cantering rhythm of "Run Josie Run." But lately I’m more taken with the wending "Sabine River," the way it manages to sound simultaneously epic and self-effacing; the taunting edge in the talk-song of "Reckless Feeling;" and the way "Cool Cool Rain" closes the disc with such a palpable sense of relief. They’re all like watercolors–not fancy oils, yet something you don’t mind encountering as part of your regular routine. And I imagine tonight’s (3/21) live show at the Cedar will deepen and expand those impressions.

  • The Fish Fry Report: Part II

    Our faithful correspondents Anthony Kaczor and Sid Korpi report on their latest Lenten dining discoveries:

    This week we’ll finish up the Fish Fry Days at the Tri-City American
    Legion in New Brighton. Thank you for your input and keep us in informed for any fundraising events you are involved in or are aware of!!!

    First last week we went to St Bonaventure in Bloomington when parking
    in the lot we thought it was sparsely attended then someone said to
    go around back of the church to the community center where we found
    what seemed to be the entire city of Bloomington lined up for the
    meal!!! The smell of the fish frying was heavy in the air and even if
    we didn’t have somewhere to be in short order the scent didn’t
    warrant a wait in that line like you might at a County Fair. Our walk
    back to our car gave us our true reason for being there, which was a
    mystical experience from a totally blind Black Lab within his white
    eyes he seemed to be a very old soul that walked right up to us as if
    it could see us.

    We then stopped at the Bloomington Knights of Columbus which
    advertises many fundraising events one being Fish Fries in Lent.
    Unsure as to the set up we found this to be a sit down restaurant
    style setting which had very slow service for a not to busy evening,
    we left after nearly 10 minutes without even being served and had to
    hit the Hub Shopping Center Burger King for fish sandwiches on our
    way to the SW High Sock Hop which we were to do a Swing Dance demo.

    Hope all is well in your life and this week it’s Good Friday starting
    the Easter weekend. One church I know of still has a meatless meal is
    at Our Lady of Guadalupe which we were at a couple weeks ago (Mexicanfood) So this week we’ll be wrapping up Fish Fry-Days and we’ll send out a review of them all!!!

    This is Good Friday March 21st being most church Fish Fry events
    are over. We’ll try out Tri-City American Legion in New Brighton, 400
    Old Highway 8. We’ll be there around 6pm (after dinner head into the
    bar area and find Anthonys 20 Gallon Blood donation picture).

    *******Upcoming DADs BELGIAN WAFFLE Fundraisers*******
    Saturday April 12th White Bear Lake

    Saturday April 19th Blaine Sports Center

    Sunday April 27th Shriners in south Minneapolis this is a MUST being
    the Steel Drum Band plays at this event!!!

    ******Upcoming Other Fundraisers**********
    Lebanese Dinner at Holy Family Maronite Church 203 E. Robie St. St
    Paul (west side)
    Sunday April 27th 11:30-4:30 (full meal $15.00 half meal $8.00)
    Tickets on sale now (and sell out) 651-291-1116

    ******Keep us informed of Fundraisers**********
    Do you know of a Fundraiser we can come to and tell others about???
    Along with food Sid and I especially like events with dancing and
    music!!!

    Best,
    Anthony (& Sid)

  • Happy Fun Friday!

    It’s Friday, and like that girl you had in the backseat of
    your dad’s Buick back in ’82, Spring just ain’t giving up the goods. And while
    the putrid grey color of today’s sky and frozen water the clouds vomit
    forth inch by cursed inch may bode well for today’s opening of the new North Face store in Uptown, it may
    well drive many in our fair state to crack open a bottle of Jameson and toast
    to today’s freezing over of the Nine Hells.

    Now, women
    in fleece and quilted coats
    turn me on as much as the next guy, but does
    the melting of the polar ice caps really have to signal warmer weather and
    coastal living for everyone but the masochistic souls of the Upper Midwest? Do
    we not deserve some warmth when we’ve been subjected to a winter of arctic air,
    partisan bickering, and a plague of douchebags?

    In any case, while it’d be much more effective to offer
    everyone in the Twin Cities metro area free pharmaceutical-grade opiates,
    instead, we of The Defenestrator bring you Happy Fun Fridays – a new
    potentially regular feature straight from the land of make-believe and unicorns
    meant to bring you, our valued reader, the joy that is so profoundly and
    painfully missing from your life.

    So dry your tears, stop touching your outer child
    inappropriately and get in touch with your inner child as you play the Obama:
    Race for the White House
    game! Think Obama is a hypocritical, albeit
    charismatic, opportunist? Then you’ll be thrilled to offer universal health care
    as America’s favorite battle-axe in Hillary:
    Race for the White House
    ! Or perhaps you’re a geriophile
    with a firm belief that we’re winning the war in Iraq? Then relive the glory
    days of the war with a little Baghdad
    Bowling.

    Or maybe you’re tired and just need some sunshine in your
    life and some help figuring out what you want for dinner tonight. Well, before
    there was Obama Girl, there were bikini-clad cooking tips from the superheroine herself.

     

    Obama Girl Cooking Tips

     

    So dry your tears and take heart that even though
    today’s weather and the state of our legislature is evidence that God doesn’t love you,
    you’ve got a friend at The Rake.

  • Report from Yucatan

    After a week of bouncing around the Yucatecan countryside, I
    have come back with an increased respect for the Mexican eateries we have right
    here in the Twin Cities. We ate all over the place – from thatched beachfront
    seafood joints in a quiet fishing village and market stalls in a small colonial
    town to the kinds of upscale restaurants where white-jacketed waiters prepare
    guacamole at tableside.

    At the upscale restaurants, service and presentation were certainly more refined than at, for example, Pancho Villa on Eat Street, or El Paraiso at 35th and Nicollet, or at the little food stalls inside the Mercato Central or the Midtown Global Market, but the preparations were often very similar. And the little panaderias (bakeries) we visited in the Yucatan offered a much smaller selection than you can find locally at Panaderia Marissa on Eat Street, or the other Mexican bakeries you can find around the Twin Cities.

    (Our local Chinese restaurants wouldn’t stack up
    nearly as well in a similar comparison with typical Hong Kong eateries, and I
    know the local Thai eateries aren’t in the same league with what Bangkok’s
    dining scene has to offer.)

    It isn’t quite a fair comparison, because the Yucatan has
    its own distinctive regional cuisine, while most of the Twin Cities’ Mexican
    restaurants, like our immigrant population, are rooted in areas closer to the
    US border.

    We headed straight from the Cancun airport – where the
    dining options include Bubba Gump’s, Johnny Rockets, pizza and food-court
    Chinese – to the downtown Cancun bus station, and boarded a first-class ADO bus
    to Merida, the state capital. First class bus travel in Mexico means action
    movies on the tv monitors – we got to see Once Upon A Time in Mexico with
    Antonio Banderas and Selma Hayek twice! –
    and air conditioning, both cranked all the way up. When the locals pay
    extra for a.c., they get their money’s worth – our driver kept the cabin temp
    right around 60 degrees for much of our trip.

    Our first dinner in Mexico was at the Portico del Peregrino, in a stately old colonial building not far
    from Merida’s main square, where I sampled a couple of Yucatecan specialties – a
    lively sopa de lima (lime soup) of shredded chicken, chopped tomatoes and
    tortilla strips in a savory lime-flavored chicken stock; and pollo pibil,
    chicken marinated in sour orange juice and baked in banana leaves. Other
    highlights of our two days in Merida included a lunchtime visit to Los
    Almendros
    , which offers an extensive menu of Yucatecan specialties in elegant
    surroundings. I opted for a combination plate, which let me try four different
    local specialties – cochinita pibil (slow-cooked pork, baked in a banana leaf),
    poc chuc (a grilled pork steak marinated in sour orange juice), turkey en
    escabeche, cooked in a sour and spicy sauce, and longaniza, a dark and spicy
    dry sausage. Unlike most Yucatecan
    restaurants we visited, Los Almendros offers no fish or seafood entrees, so
    Carol opted for the papadzul, corn tortillas stuffed and topped with
    hard-boiled eggs, and bathed in a savory pumpkin seed sauce.

    Two more tips if you ever make it to Merida – a little hotel
    with courtyard and fountain called Luz en Yucatan, run by a very friendly Irish
    expat named Donard, and a breakfast café and bakery called Flor de Santiago,
    that looks like the Mexican version of a 40’s-era diner, frozen in time.

    The fishing village of Celestun is a couple of hours away
    from Merida on a second class bus – no loud movies, no air-conditioning, and
    lots of stops in Mayan towns and villages along the way. It’s a sleepy and
    charming little town that is just starting to welcome an influx of tourists who
    are looking for a sleepy little fishing village that doesn’t get a lot of
    tourists. (More are on the way: at the poolside bar at our hotel, a real estate
    investor from Merida handed me a Cuban Cohiba and boasted of his plans to buy
    up miles of unspoiled beachfront nearby, and carve it up into luxury
    properties.)

    In the morning you can walk along the beach and watch the
    fishing boats come in with their catch, and then in the afternoon you can dine
    on fresh fish – or shrimp, blue crab or octopus –at any of half-a-dozen
    restaurants that line the shore. Our favorite was the Restaurante Chirivico,
    which offered all the usual fish and shrimp dishes, plus a lively seafood
    cocktail, a pounded steak of caracol (conch) prepared like a breaded pork
    tenderloin; and a tender and garlicky octopus al mojo de ajo.

    On the way back, we stopped in the beautiful little town of
    Valladolid, built by the Spanish conquistadors where an older Mayan settlement
    once stood. The finest hotel and restaurant in town are at the Meson del
    Marques,

    right on the main square, with the usual Yucatecan repertoire of pollo pibil,
    cochinita, and pok chuk, plus steaks, pasta and seafood. For the more
    adventuresome, though, the Bazar Municipal next door is a covered marketplace
    with tables and chairs in the middle, and tiny stalls along the side, where
    vendors sell tacos, tortas, pozole soup, and the Yucatecan versions of the
    tostada – the panucho and the salbute, fried tortillas topped with shredded
    chicken and pickled onions.

  • Brandy of the Damned

    Today is the birthday of legendary showman Florenz Ziegfeld Jr., the man behind Ziegfeld Follies. So take a moment to view this old trailer for the 1936 film, The Great Ziegfeld.

    We have a rather gray and wet weekend in store, but we can certainly warm our hearts with a little brandy of the damned. (It’s rather fitting for Good Friday, no?) Who was it that said music is the brandy of the damned? I think it was Shaw, but I’ll leaving the Googling to you.

    MUSIC
    Ray Bonneville and Tim O’Reagan

    I’ve never been much of a label whore; I could care less what label any given musician is with, and for the most part, I don’t even pay attention to it. But I have to say, I’m getting to a point where I’ll pretty much go see anyone who’s with Red House Records. What can I say? They just seldom go wrong, if ever. And tonight’s performer is no exception. Having recently released his Goin’ By Feel album on the Red House label, poet-singer-songwriter Ray Bonneville brings his folk-blues fingerpicking stylings to the Cedar this evening. Think Dylan, but with a low, mellifluous voice. And you won’t want to miss the opening act, either: Tim O’Reagan, former drummer for the Jayhawks. O’Reagan only recently stepped out from behind the drumset and is spreading his singer-songwriter wings quite eloquently.

    Friday at 8 p.m., The Cedar, 416 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-338-2674; $16.

    Saturday Selections

    There’s a lot of great music to choose from on Saturday night. For starters, Crosby, Stills & Nash tickets go on sale, so if you want to catch their July 11th show, be sure to act fast. Then choose from the mnSpin kick-off party at the Nomad
    World Pub
    , L.A. punk-rockers X at the Cabooze, or Self the Remix spoken word at the Playwright’s Center. Or, for an evening of first-rate local music, with a meaningful film, see below.

    BENEFIT, FILM & MUSIC

    Rock The Red Tail!

    Pack in an evening of assorted amazement. Support a filmmaker. Learn about an industry — and the workers behind it. And enjoy some of our most established local rockers. Filmmaker Dawn Mikkelson and her co-director Melissa Koch invite you to Rock The Red Tail. The event, aimed at raising funds and awareness for their new film, will include a preview screening of The Red Tail — a documentary that examines the harsh realities of globalization through the impact of Northwest Airlines’ struggles on Twin Cities families. But the evening isn’t all of such a serious nature. Lighten up and celebrate with performances by Lori Barbero (Babes in Toyland), Artifact Shore, Martin Devaney (3-time MN Music Award Nominee), JoAnna James (2005 & 2006 MN Music Awards “Female Vocalist of the Year”), and Mike Gunther (City Pages’ “Best Male Vocalist” for 2007).

    Saturday from 7 to 11 p.m., In the Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theatre, 1500 East Lake St., Minneapolis; 612-721-2535; $25.

    FILM
    Married Life

    Based on the 1953 pulp mystery novel Five Roundabouts to Heaven, Ira Sach’s new film, Married Life, follows the relationships and ethical dilemmas presented by a
    man and his wife, a man and his mistress, a wife and her lover, and the
    rakish friend that likes the mistress. Chris Cooper, with pain and disillusionment fused into every pore, delivers the sort of nuanced performance that we’ve come to expect from him. Rachel McAdams is similarly able to shock a semblance of life into Kay, the thinly written object of affection for both leading men. —Brandon Root, read his full review

    Opens Friday, (1:50, 4:30) 7:20, 9:35 p.m., Edina Cinema, 3911 W. 50th St., Edina; 651-649-4416.

    Also opening this weekend: Snow Angels and Paranoid Park.

    ART
    Last Weekend: Soul on Ice

    The Art Within Us artist group embraces the cold for the final weekend of Soul on Ice, featuring work by some hundred African-American and immigrant artists on view at the Soap Factory—which is, mind you, unheated. Don’t let a little frost distract you from the artwork, though; the show spotlights the value and depth of black culture. And on Saturday (2-4 p.m.) join an open discussion with community leaders on the subjects of raising culture consciousness, the future of culture through our children, and cultural leadership.

    Friday from 2 to 8 p.m., Saturday and Sunday from 12 to 5 p.m., The Soap Factory, 518 Second St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-623-9176; free.

    SHOPPING
    The North Face Opens Uptown Store

    Just in time for the warm weather, a new North Face store is opening today in Uptown Minneapolis. Go buy some summer toys to get you movitated and start the blood a-flowin’. There’s nothing like zipping those two sleeping bags together after a full-day hike.

    Opens Friday, North Face, 3008 Hennepin Ave. S., Minneapolis.

     
    Oh, and be sure to read Linda Morganstein’s new Rake Appeal piece: "Minnesota Couples: Beware IKEA!"

  • The Three Pointer: 5 out of 7

    AP Photo, by Tom Olmscheid

    Game #67, Home Game #35: Memphis 94, Minnesota 98

    Season Record: 17-50

    1. Jefferson Dominant

    The transformation point of the Wolves’ 98-94 win over Memphis last night was when Al Jefferson willed his team back into contention during the first 7 minutes of the third period after an abysmal first half. Smallball didn’t work for Minnesota in those two periods–Memphis forwards Gay, Miller, and Warrick racked up 32 points and 16 rebounds while Snyder, Gomes, Brewer and Smith amassed just 10 points and 3 boards–but Jefferson, who had 6 of the Wolves’ 15 total rebounds (vs. 32 for the Grizz) in that first half, came out spitting nails. He destroyed Darko Milicic in the paint.

    Simply detailing the line gives you a little flavor of this man-among-boys stretch of play. Jefferson’s offensive rebound on a Randy Foye miss led to two second-chance points via Ryan Gomes’ free throws. Then he got fouled by Rudy Gay and made one of two; cleaned up a Gomes missed layup with a putback slam dunk; hit two more free throws after being fouled by Darko; grabbed a rebound off a Gay miss that eventually led to a Foye bucket; snuffed a Gay layup with a beautiful block; came down and hit a banker in the lane; and then fed Foye for a trey. A grand 3:12 had elapsed, and Jefferson had 7 points, three boards (two on the offensive glass), an assist and a block in keying a 14-2 Wolves run that turned a 14-point halftime deficit into a one-possession game.

    You think he was done? In the ensuing 3:29 after the Memphis timeout, he scored 5 more points, grabbed two more offensive rebounds, and scaled the scaffolding with Gay as the latter drove the baseline and attempted to throw it down, turning him back with an above-the-rim block. When Jefferson laid the ball in off a Foye feed with 4:19 to play in the third, the Wolves had their first tie since 0-0, and Jefferson had 12 points, 4-4 FG, 4-6 FT, four offensive rebounds (and 5 overall) and a pair of blocks in less than 7 minutes of play. That’s how you make All Star teams and have teammates look at you a little differently in the locker room and at practice.

    2. Working The Seams

    Let the record show that Randy Foye and Rashad McCants were a combined 11-31 FG last night, and that it doesn’t even come close to revealing how well they played, individually and together. The standing cavaet here is that this was the Memphis Grizzlies, not quite as pathetic as the Clippers without Kamen the other night, but certainly earning their new status as one of the three worst teams in the NBA (the Wolves are now 4th, crushing ping pong balled dreams throughout the frozen tundra). But as coach Randy Wittman said in the postgame, Foye and McCants have been told to work the seams of the defense via penetration and then dish to the open man if and when their path to the hoop is deterred. Both players did that last night, often feeding each other, and the only concern is that they weren’t finishing each other’s assists. As it was, Shaddy had five dimes (it could have been 8-10) and Foye 3 (could have been double that), even with Craig Smith agains enduring a loud and mysterious 1-7 FG clanking.

    Foye’s numbers weren’t even as good as McCants’s mediocrity, but for all the times I’ve ripped him for generating results while looking like anything but a point guard, tonight is payback: Despite the numbers, his floor game lent credence to the idea that he can run this ballclub in the half court. My one criticism is that it is a little too noticeable how much Foye suddenly changes personality and looks more for his A) when Jefferson isn’t in the game and B) in the 4th quarter. I think both situations warrant more scoring aggressiveness; I just wish it wasn’t so easy for a scout to write this tendency in his report and have it come true.

    But here’s the deal: Wittman sits his stud Jefferson with 1:59 to play in the 3rd, and sits Foye with 25 seconds to go in the third. The Wolves head into the final period with that pair on the pine, and down six points, 62-68. Time for Rashad McCants to screw seam-working and get his own; and lest there be any doubt, Wittman throws the clanking Gators, Brewer and Richard, out there along with a stone cold Craig Smith and Marko Jaric. So 16 seconds in, Shaddy nails a 12-foot pull-up. He sinks the T on Memphis’s defensive 3-seconds. He cans a 20-footer on a feed from Jaric. And then flips in a layup on a dish from Smith. It’s McCants 7, Memphis 2 in 3:02 of the 4th. Timeout Grizzlies at 69-70, with Jefferson and Foye soon to come back fresh. By the time they are both good to go, at 6:31, Minnesota is down 4. But McCants erases Memphis’s last lead by getting back to seamwork, finding Foye for trey to cut the deficit from 4 to 1 and then dishing to Jefferson for a six-foot hook that puts the Wolves up for good. For the 4rh quarter, Shaddy is an ugly 3-10 FG–on paper. On the court he was the crunchtime linchpin, with 9 points, 3 dimes, 2 boards and plus +10 for the period. And Foye has an efficient 7 points in 6:31 (2-2 FG, 2-2 FT, 0 assists but 0 turnovers) and is plus +6.

    3. Hit and Run

    It sure would be fattening to play the Grizz every night. The "tanking" concept is way overused lately, so let’s just say it was a curious decision for Grizz coach Mark Iavaroni to go with the Not Ready For Prime Time Player Mike Conley at the point instead of the far more polished Kyle Lowry down the stretch. And, after Jason Collins snagged his 5th foul, to toss clueless Kwame Brown in as red meat for Jefferson when Memphis was up by just two points with 7:07 to go in the game and Brown hadn’t seen one second of burn up to that point. Are we surprised that Jefferson scored five points and drew two fouls on Brown during the latter’s 2:34 of play, a stretch that saw the Wolves go on an 8-4 run? And let’s not forget Juan Carlos Navarro, whose shot selection had Gerald Green holding his head and running around in circles in his living room watching the game at home. Navarro’s 0-4 FG in 3:31 went nicely with Conley’s 3–7 FG in all 12:00–neither one had an assist.

    For the game, Navarro was 5-17 FG, Conley 3-10 FG–that’s a flatulant 8-17 FG out of your starting backcourt, folks–*with zippo, nada, zilch, assists. The guys spooling out all the dimes for this Grizz squad? Darko and Kahim Warrick, with 3 apiece. Meanwhile, Rudy Gay and Mike Miller, so effective in the first half, combined for 6-17 FG in the second half–because no one could get them the damn ball in any position to score. That little chime you heard when Jason Collins scored on a wide open layup after a feed from Warrick with 9:32 to play in the 4th quarter was the signal that Memphis had used up its allotted one assist for the entire second half. They would not be granted another–not with Conley and Navarro in the backcourt.

    Before we go, two quick shout-outs. Ryan Gomes suffered through a terrible shooting performance–and because Gomes pretty much only shoots open looks, you know he’s off when he’s 1-11 FG. But in the final 70 seconds of play with the Wolves up by one, there was Gomes with a savvy strip-and-save of a Memphis dribble penetration to produce the steal, then a no-hesitation swish on a wide open 20-footer to give Minnesota a little cushion. Big shot, which shores up one of the few places where Gomes hasn’t been reliable this season, clutch scoring.

    Finally, it would be a shame to overlook another guerrilla-effective performance from Jaric, who merely led the team in assists (7) and plus/minus (+9) in 31:01. That’s a very Telfair-like 31 assists and 6 turnovers for Marko in the last 5 games. At my prompting, Wittman admitted he thought about getting Jaric more burn in the final 6 and a half minutes in place of Kirk Snyder–"but I was afraid of Rudy Gay’s
    size at the 3; I didn’t want him getting inside" creating switches and open looks for him and others, he replied.

    Except that his dunderheaded teammates plus Jefferson’s commitment to protecting the rim stopped Gay far more than Snyder, who seemed overmatched most of the evening. But yet another way to look at it is that Wittman played a 24-year old newbie (Snyder) over the established commodity (Jaric) and found out a little more about this soon-to-be unrestricted free agent. Wittman’s take on Snyder? "Solid. He does everything decent. He’s worked himself into my confidence at the end of games." Meanwhile, Corey Brewer and Chris Richard can trade nostalgic memories of March Madness on the sideline…

  • Get into the Groove

    SPECIAL EVENT
    Gallery Grooves at Joan of Art Gallery

    Join us tonight for another Gallery Grooves, The Rake’s monthly art, jazz,
    and
    wine event. This
    month, view work by painter and poet Kathryn Stemwedel. Educated at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, the Florence Academy of Art, and St. Olaf College, Stemwedel
    creates artwork that dances between reality and fiction, incorporating
    classical, surrealist, and post-modern methods. Her art portrays the
    topography of psychological landscapes. —Jennifer Havrish

    7-9 p.m., Joan of Art Gallery, 3020 Franklin Ave. E., Minneapolis.

    WINE & DINE
    Local Favorites

    Enjoy a lovely mix of local favorites tonight. PastureLand, Etica, Peace Coffee, and Common Roots Cafe have come together to bring you a free sampling of fair-trade coffee and wine expertly paired with Minnesota-made cheeses and desserts. Feast your palate while you support local business and fair trade. It’s a perfect no-guilt experience.

    5:30 to 7:30 p.m., Common Roots Cafe, 2558 Lyndale Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-871-2360; free.

    THEATER & PERFORMANCE
    Ways to Behold and Sentry

    One of the most literate, thoughtful choreographers in town, Stuart Pimsler presents a double bill of protest art late in the month. Ways to Behold,
    a world premiere with accompaniment by spoken-word artist Tiyo Siyolo,
    juxtaposes the realities of a U.S.-initiated—yet somehow invisible—war
    overseas with the comforts of daily life on our own shores. Sentry
    is a reprise from the Reagan era; it was created during Pimsler’s days
    in New York City, when he was active with Artists Against Nuclear
    Madness. Set to a medley of ’60s protest songs, the piece is based in
    part on military orders that one of Pimsler’s students smuggled out of
    the Air Force Academy. —Christy DeSmith, photo by Paul Virtucio

    8 p.m., Ritz Theater, 345 13th Ave. N.E., Minneapolis; 612-436-1129; $18-$22.

    Let Loose

    Also tonight, the Cassandra and Jawaahir Dance Company offers an alternative perspective on what it means to “let loose” as they peek behind the mashrabiya (the screen traditional Arabs use to isolate women’s quarters) in Girls Night Out IN.

    8 p.m., Southern Theater, 1420 Washington Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-340-1725; $27.

    MUSIC
    George Jones

    For those who prefer the hunks in the big hats and tight jeans,
    well, it’s time you learned it ain’t the meat in a man’s voice, it’s
    the motion. And even at age seventy-six, the pipes of The Possum will
    have you moving with him into chasms of loneliness and epiphanies of
    grace and gratitude that are emotionally closed off to most every other
    singer. Jones is generally regarded as the greatest country vocalist
    who ever drew breath. Age has undeniably shortened his phrasing and
    weakened the fiber in his tone, but when your signature song is a
    goose-bumper like “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” and you tour with some
    of Nashville’s finest musicians, you can play for posterity at a casino
    and still pack a mighty wallop. —Britt Robson

    7:30 p.m., Mystic Lake Casino, 2400 Mystic Lake Blvd., Prior Lake; 651-989-5151; $29-$42.

     

  • Glen Taylor Opens another Can of Worms

    Copyright AFP/GETTY IMAGES, photo by Ronald Martinez

    For a man who has made a billion dollars on wedding invitations, Glen Taylor sometimes isn’t a very bright guy. Yesterday’s comments to the daily beat writers–"KG tanked it" is the money quote–is a perfect example of how Taylor keeps cutting off the nose of this franchise to spite its face by his continual denigration of Garnett’s role and impact on the team during the tail end of his dozen years with the Wolves.

    First, let’s give Taylor’s comments their tiny due. When Garnett was shut down with five games to go last season I don’t think I was alone in believing it was at the instigation of team management rather than Garnett himself, despite comments from the front office and KG’s agent, Andy Miller, that he was indeed hurt. The statements by Miller and Garnett in response to Taylor’s latest charge clearly imply that it was KG who instigated his removal from the lineup, albeit because of legitimate injury rather than a desire to secure a better draft pick by diminishing the ballclub’s chances of winning.

    But for that miniscule drop of truthful satisfaction, what has Taylor wrought for himself and his franchise? When it comes to tanking, his comments reek of baldfaced hypocrisy. There hasn’t been a more blatant example of trying to lose a game that impacted the number of lottery balls a team would receive than the finale of the 2005-06 season, a year before the KG absence that is the subject of Taylor’s allegation. During that game, versus Memphis, the Wolves *benched all their promising young players* down the stretch for the likes of scrubs such as Bracey Wright and Ronnie Dupree, allowed a Memphis opponent an uncontested layup in the waning seconds of regulation, and then had Mark Madsen chuck up seven three-pointers in a double-overtime loss. Mind you, this was all after the ballclub shelved both KG and Ricky Davis due to "injury." My column that night was entitled, "The One-Pointer: Wolves Disgrace Themselves." Anyone who watched knew exactly what was happening. And now Glen Taylor has the gall to say "I don’t like that so much" with respect to tanking, and then drop the anvil on Garnett?

    Look, Kevin Garnett is no saint–he’s human. He was two-faced in his support/nonsupport of first Flip Saunders and then Kevin McHale. I ripped him for it at the times they were happening. He also was a lousy general manager, arguing on behalf of Troy Hudson and Mike James, among others. He openly feuded with Wally Szczerbiak (along with most of the roster). But Taylor’s remarks continually besmirching KG since he dealt away the superstar–from the "freeze out" of Wally and team split between pro and con KG acolytes to the demand for a sizable contract extension last season to the pettiness of negotiations of how he should be honored on his return to Minnesota this weekend–do nothing but poison his own well. They collide face first into some hard realties ignored by Taylor’s selectively biased perspective.

    1. Kevin Garnett gave this franchise everything he had. The Minnesota Timberwolves were a standing joke–a dysfunctional gulag on the frozen prairie–before he arrived and for a dozen years he rebutted expectations that escalated into belittling demands that he abandon this franchise and go find a bigger, better market in which to play.

    2. Within the fraternity of coaches and players in the NBA–the people who are on the inside, who genuinely know what’s what–Garnett has an impeccable reputation as a player who doesn’t stint on practicing or playing at anything other than 100 percent. His ability to set the tone from the top of the pecking order is of enormous value in sweeping away a lot of the motivational bullshit that many coaches and general managers–and, by extension, owners–have to endure when sheperding a ballclub through a long 82-game season.

    3. Because of Garnett’s sterling reputation and the frozen geography of the Timberwolves’ locale, Taylor’s calling out of his loyal superstar pretty much ensures that no prominent free agent will want to come to Minnesota in the near future. Remember what happened to the Bulls and Jerry Krause when he got into a power struggle with Phil Jackson, Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen? A similar dynamic now seems likely here.

    I am on record as admiring the amount of money Taylor has put into trying to build a winner here, and it would be hypocritical of me to discourage the owner from speaking his mind. Give me the free-wheeling guy who believes honesty (even if it is only his version of it) is the best policy over some dissembling, secretive groupthink spinmeisters. But this is a food fight Glen Taylor cannot win. Frankly, I’m surprised he doesn’t realize that. He and his organization would do well to drop this quixotic KG fixation and tend to the business at hand. Because contrary to all the wonderful spin we’ve heard locally about this great Garnett trade, the Celtics have the best record in the NBA and Glen Taylor is answering questions about whether or not his current ballclub will go into the tank for a third straight year.

  • Readin', Writin', and Ninjutsu

    Like the stealthy shinobi, Secretary of
    Education Margaret Spellings slipped in and out of Saint Paul yesterday,
    accomplishing her mission with a minimum of bloodshed and outcry from those
    who would oppose her
    in carrying out the quest laid upon her by her daimyo.
    Few recognized her shadowy presence, overshadowed as it was with news of racially-charged
    electoral rhetoric, newly appointed slutty
    governors
    , and medical
    incompetence
    of nigh-mythical proportions.

    Spellings’ quest is, of course, to stump for George W. Bush’s
    premier education program, No Child Left Behind
    (NCLB), which has been up for renewal since September 30. Her stop in St.
    Paul yesterday, complete with Pawlenty photo opp, concerned her decision to
    allow some states to make modifications in how schools are penalized for not
    making "adequate yearly progress". According to Spellings, the modifications
    are intended to allow states to differentiate between schools that are barely
    missing benchmarks and those that are dramatically underperforming on a
    year-to-year basis. Strangely, no mention was made of providing the money
    promised by Washington to fund the testing required by NCLB.

    Spellings’ speech emphasized that this new flexibility would
    not come at the price of accountability. Punctuated as it was by the secretary
    brandishing her gleaming ninja-to
    and threats to send her shadowy clan of kunoichi to "encourage"
    adequate yearly progress from the nonconforming and recalcitrant school
    districts not living up to the administration’s lofty standards, many in the
    Washington offered their confidence that these measures would make a monumental
    difference in closing the education gap.

    Oddly, Minnesota isn’t one of the states eligible to
    participate in the pilot program. Minnesota has yet to secure approval for the alternative
    exams developed for English language learners, so won’t be able to participate
    in the program. DFL lawmakers seized upon this opportunity to question why the
    secretary chose to come to Minnesota at all if the state wouldn’t be reaping
    the benefits of the Department of Education’s enlightened new policy –
    wondering if, in fact, this was all just a way to bring attention to Norm
    Coleman’s campaign for reelection. Given the nature of the news, this was
    unlikely at best. Regardless, Spellings quickly silenced these voices of
    dissent with a torrent
    of shuriken before vanishing into the quickly fading twilight, as ninjas are wont to do.

    Despite these modifications, which are intended to address
    one of the primary complaints about NCLB – namely that a school that doesn’t
    make adequate yearly progress gets bent over, sans lube, regardless of how
    close or far from the mark they hit – Congress and the Department of Education
    are unlikely to come to any significant agreement on renewing NCLB in the near
    future. The upcoming presidential election makes it even more likely Congress
    will sit on its collective arse expressing shock that baseball players would
    stoop so low as to take steroids, all the while informing the public on how
    hard it’s working to come to an agreement that "…will serve the best interests
    of the children. My god, won’t you think of the children?" Clearly our
    legislature has our best
    interests
    at heart.

    Once we reach the end of the interminable two-year slog
    known as the modern election season, our elected representatives in Washington
    may stop wetting themselves every time a significant policy decision needs to
    be made long enough to create meaningful legislation. As a result, the act is very likely to be modified heavily, or even
    disappear altogether, after the election. Obama and McCain both want to modify
    the act heavily, and despite voting to put NCLB in place originally, Hillary
    Clinton is the only candidate who has stated she’ll put an end to the act,
    though she hasn’t yet provided a plan to replace the accountability measures
    many have agreed are good for several of the groups struggling with the
    achievement gap.

    And if that prognosis spawns an odd feeling in the pit
    of your stomach that feels remarkably like hope for the future, there no reason for concern. You can rest easy in the near certainty that the
    next administration, whoever may lead it, will almost certainly put an asinine,
    overpriced and ill-advised education policy in place that makes the reaming our
    schools have received under NCLB look like a threeway with Strawberry Shortcake
    and Rainbow Brite.
    Then again, Strawberry Shortcake turned out to be quite the tramp.