Sweet Potatoes and Gianni Schicchi

Well, I have decided that I am far better at winter meals than at summer meals. I mean, I can roast a sweet potato and stuff a chicken better than anyone I know (mostly because very few people that I know actually do those things) but cannot seem to come up with a summer meal that doesn't somehow involve a meal salad. I mean, yes, I like meal salads. One might even say that I love them. But only rarely do they involve sweet potatoes, which is an immediate demerit from the plan, and rarely, if ever, are they cost effective. And before everyone protests the health benefits of a pile of mixed greens, multi-hued bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, olives, red onions, feta, red wine vinegar and EVOO (that's for you, Nicholas), please consider just how much a bell pepper costs in relation to a sweet potato. I mean, a decent salad is going to run $10, and that's before the meat and the wine. If I'm spending $10 before wine, I'd better be at a moderately snazzy restaurant. One where the utensils are already wrapped in the paper napkin and kept together with one of those spooky adhesive napkin rings. What do they use on those things, anyway? Envelope glue? How is it that it causes the napkin ring to adhere but isn't even tacky to the touch? It's really more of a...slimey feeling.

So, I can't make summer meals. The good thing about that is that I only have another two months of summer to go before blessed winter returns, and I can break out my sweaters and jeans. And BOOTS! I believe that I shall need at least two new pairs of boots this season, and one of them will be knee high and cranberry colored with a three inch traditional heel...none of this stacked business. It will match nothing that I own and the only place I shall wear it is prancing around my room while singing show tunes in sweats. It's going to be marvelous. It is, of course, a pipe dream, especially since I was just ranting about the cost of a bell pepper, but what a lovely dream it was. For a moment, I was the devil wearing Prado. Yes. This devil wears Prado. And Couch, Her Mes, Kate Spud and Ralf Lauren. Even in my fantasy life I wear knock-offs. Why? Because Fantasy Katie still manages to spill sweet potatoes, red wine or the rub from some pork product on herself relatively regularly. It's a fact of life.

That paragraph wasn't actually supposed to be about fashion or fantasy. It was supposed to be about the summer things that I can make, namely: drinks. And not even the pomegranate martini that is just so much better with a bit of sprite for zing and fizz. I mean the handy dandy, who-needs-Starbucks version of iced coffee. It's perfect for the middle of a humid afternoon, and all it takes is the leftovers from the morning's pot of coffee. I, personally, brew a pot purely for the icedness, but you may do as you please.

~ Equal parts strong coffee--I prefer a french roast, but flavored coffees also work-- and milk --I use skim, but the higher the fat content, the creamier the result. You can also substitute 1/2 the milk with Bailey's, Brendan's, Carolan's or (if you're feeling daring) Godiva liquer for an evening treat. DO NOT PUT ICE IN AT THIS STEP!!! It will just melt and dilute the whole thing.
~ 1 1/2 to 2 artificial sweeteners per 12oz of mix. This saves you the step of sweetening each individual glass, and if you're using a whole pot of coffee, you're talking 5 glasses at least.
***If you like, use a sugar-free flavored syrup (Irish Creme, vanilla and hazelnut are really good in this), with
1 1/2 shot per 12oz. Less, of course, if you like a more bitter flavor.
Mix well and put in the fridge. Pour over full glass of ice.

I know--it's so wicked simple you're wondering why you don't have a pitcher of it in your fridge right now. SO AM I. Why are you spending $2 plus gas for the burnt aftertaste that Starbucks will inevitably leave instead of spending 15 minutes, most of it waiting for the pot to perk, and having this scrumtralescent and ultimately personalizable beverage at hand? It's just silly.

This, and pretty much all caffeinated beverages, are inherently bad for singers, which provides me with a smooth and subtle segue into my next topic as outlined in the title of this entry: Gianni Schicchi. More specifically, the terribly overused but almost painfully beautiful threat of suicide that is "O mio babbino caro."

I have always loved this song. And by "always" I pretty much mean "thought it was cool" in high school and "wept like a baby" when I heard Renee Flemming singing it on "Movie Adagios II." Right: it's a compilation of slow themes from movies throughout cinematographic history. So I was searching for "Gabriel's Oboe" and stumbled upon this gem--so sue me. I put the damn thing on repeat and it works better for personal cathartic needs than "An Affair to Remember" ever has. Break out the tissues!

Anyway, a friend of mine wrote to me about Kathleen Battle, a soprano with a crystal tone and wonderfully subtle vibrato who should never sing African American spirituals. (Her rendition of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" is almost painfully proper--lovely and round and completely at odds with the common heritage of the song.) But I downloaded a couple of her songs (opi with really long names from "Le nozze di Figaro" and "Cosi fan tutti"...and yes, I made "opi" up as the natural plural of the word "opus") from iTunes and the brightness of both selections made me want to hear her hit the high note in "O mio babbino caro." I mean, it just comes out of nowhere, and when it's bad it's ridiculous, but when it's good...when it's good it's breathtaking, and I think that, with Ms. Battle, it would be very good.

How, you might ask, would I know, being so attached to Ms. Flemming's rendition and anything but what one might call an "opera buff"? I know, dear friends, because that high note is featured in every single 30-second clip of the song offered in iTunes. And I have just listened to them all. That's right--all. Even the cheesy "flute meditations," electric guitar renditions and jump-rope vibrato varieties. Some are quite lovely. Some are just bad--there's even a karaoke version of it. KARAOKE OPERA. God help us. That Holly Stell, 13yr old "prodigy" should even attempt it, at her age and with the amount of air that she has in her tone, is just laughable. And others... Good, but too rich. Too dark. Too much actual drama...German sounding. Very Wagner. Even Montserrat Caballe, whom I love specifically for her richness... It's just not, I think, the innocence and melodrama that the song seems to warrant, based on the translations and the synopses of the opera that I've read. Even Ms. Flemming is a little close to the truly dramatic, but she's just...good. Amazing. And I think that one might be able to put the spin on it that one of the reasons Lauretta's so desperate is because she's a little shelved, and this is her last chance at happiness.

Some of the better ones that I heard on iTunes were performed by
Sissel (who apparently did the wordless vocals on the "Titanic" soundtrack... one of her leaps to the A flat lacks the
finesse of the others, which is unfortunately not available on the sample, and is strange when the others seem so
effortless... the arrangement may be a little too popera for some, but it's nice listening)
Andre Rieu, a conductor, has a version of it on his disc, "Tuscany," and the unnamed vocalist is lovely...unfortunately it
doesn't reflect well on Mssr. Rieu that the person proofing his album info claimed that the song is from "Madam
Butterfly"...
Kiri Te Kanawa does a nice job, but there's just something...off about her pronunciation, and if I, about as nonItalian as it is
possible to be without being invisible, notice, it's noticeable
Maria Callas is Maria Callas. She has twelve different renditions, each lovely. Actually, they may all be the same one on
different albums. She just comes across, to me at least, as a little old for the piece.
Miriam Gauci--very nice. Rich, but still very nice.
Gabriele Santini-- talk about melodrama! If it got any thicker your could smother someone with it. And yet, I like it.
Claudia Muzio--this is charming just because it's such an obviously old recording. It sounds like something my great
grandmother, if she were around, might have listened to, or the recording sent along to accompany a moving picture.

This is by no means a ranked list, and I'm sure I've pissed off several people, but hey--beauty may be objective, but this is all about my aesthetics, which I've already explained. And, much to my sadness, no rendition by Ms. Battle is yet available on the iTunes.

I've actually spent a lot more time on this entry than originally planned. Needless to say, one of the things that I will be working on in voice lessons (which I will purchase instead of the extravagant boots, or even a small pair of poomps) is this particular song, but if I can't hit the A flat, then it will be lost to me forever, because this is one of those songs that I simply refuse to transpose. Or more accurately, find in a transposed form.

With that, I need to go to bed. I have a grueling day of nothing to do tomorrow, and I must be well rested. If you haven't seen "Just Friends," with Ryan Re(y)nolds, do--I was guffawing. In a house by myself. Probably wouldn't do that in a house that had other people in it. Too embarassing.

Songs of the moment: The iTunes free downloads for this week! They're kind of awesome.
"Listen Up!" ~ The Gossip just enough cowbell to soothe, not cure, the fever
"Tangled" ~Jackie Allen