November 2008

Posted on November 30, 2008 in Archives

November 29, 2008
Today we had brunch at Ann Brody and Larry Cove’s house. I made North Carolina style barbecue (See March 17) with a boned shoulder of Berkshire pork Ann got from D’Artaganan and she made greens and cole slaw and her famous scrambled, truffled eggs.
It’s the holiday season and everyone is starting to serve dishes with fresh citrus. Here’s a video Mikel made of me this morning sectioning citrus the way I learned to do it when I lived in Italy.
November 25, 2008 Eating my own words
I stopped cooking Thanksgiving dinner years ago. I am fond of calling it The Panty Hose Meal, because I’m sure that the traditional meal was concocted, like panty hose, by a man who knew nothing of what it is really like to deal with it. You can read my Thanksgiving confession on last year’s blog.
I may have spoken too soon. Last week, Bonnie Benwick of the Washington Post’s Food Section, wrote an article about frying turkeys, about which I’m an expert, having fried dozens of them. Here’s the recipe from my Fearless Frying Cookbook. In her article, Bonnie tested two new turkey “fryers,” one for frying indoors, and another for oil-less “frying” in an infrared cooker, outdoors. She admitted to me, though not in the article, that she actually preferred the infrared bird. Would I like to try the cooker? She’d bring it by!
So here I am two days before Thanksgiving getting ready to brine a 12-pound bird, and we’re only two people! I’ll make cornbread dressing (Sorry, I don’t use a recipe, but here’s what I do: I fill a baking dish with crumbled cornbread, then dump it into a mixing bowl and add onion and celery sautéed in lots of butter. Sometimes I add nuts; sometimes, oysters. I add a beaten egg and some herbs (both fresh and dried, always including some sage), mix it all together and dump it back into the dish, now greased. I add turkey stock until it’s thoroughly soaked, as much as it will hold, and bake it in a medium oven until browned, about a half hour, and serve with giblet gravy.
I’ll also serve butterbeans and rice and a cranberry sauce of some kind, probably a simple one made with oranges (see below). And for dessert, the easiest of all: Pumpkin Ice Cream (it’s supposed to be 50 degrees and sunny on Thursday).
The whole point of the meal is leftover turkey for sandwiches. I slather bread with Chow Chow, its pefect complement.The recipe follows the one for the ice cream.
Pumpkin Ice Cream
This is very easy to make and folks love it.

1-1/2 cups milk

1/2 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 cup heavy cream or crème fraîche (see November 12, below)

1 cup fresh or canned pumpkin puree

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1 tablespoon bourbon

            Mix the milk, sugar, and eggs well together, then heat them in a heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat, stirring constantly, until they are slightly thick, about 10 minutes. Place the custard in the refrigerator until you are ready to churn the ice cream.

            Add the cream or crème fraîche to the custard, then mix in the pumpkin, the spices, and the bourbon. Chill according to the manufacturer’s directions on your ice cream churn.

Makes 1 quart, about 6 servings.

 

Chow Chow from Hoppin’ John’s Lowcountry Cooking

 

Chow Chow is such a culinary oddity — a British interpretation of an Indian relish that appears in all Southern states in various forms, but more often than not including cabbages and green tomatoes boiled in a pickle thickened with flour. Recipes invariably call for salting the vegetables “overnight,” but I prefer to begin the process in the morning before work, then do the canning at night before I go to bed. This recipe makes exactly 7 pints, which fill a small canning kettle. I count off the pings of the lids sealing as I fall off to sleep.

 

 

1 small, firm head of cabbage, chopped fine (1 quart)

2 quarts chopped green tomatoes (about 8 average sized)

4 large green bell peppers (1 quart)

1 quart chopped onions

3 quarts boiling water

1 cup pure salt

Put the vegetables in a large nonreactive bowl or pot. Dissolve the salt in the water and pour it boiling over the vegetables. Allow them to sit for 12 hours. Line a large colander with a double thickness of cheesecloth or muslin and dump the vegetables into it to drain, squeezing as much of the liquid out of the vegetables as  possible.

 

For the pickle:

1/2 cup prepared, or 3 tablespoons dried, mustard

1/2 cup flour

1 tablespoon ground turmeric

1 quart vinegar

2 cups sugar

2 tablespoons celery seed

“butter the size of an egg” (3 tablespoons)

            Mix the mustard, flour, and turmeric into a paste in a little of the vinegar, then add to the rest of the ingredients and bring to a boil. Add the vegetables and boil for 10 minutes, stirring so that it does not scorch. Pour into sterilized jars and process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

Yield: 7 pints.

Cranberry Sauce
My mother used to serve a cranberry relish that I loved. It was congealed and included, in addition to the cranberries, pineapple, celery, and nuts. They say that people’s palates lean toward sweet or sour. For me, it’s definitely sour. Pickles, lemons, tart green apples, and sorrel are far more to my liking than candy or cookies (though I am a fool for dried fruit). That said, I prefer cranberry relishes on the Thanksgiving table to sweet sauces.
Here’s a really easy one that I like:
You’ll need 12 ounces of cranberries (that’s the standard grocer’s bag) and 2 navel oranges. Wash the cranberries and put them in heavy nonreactive pan. Zest the oranges and add the zest. Peel the pithy white part of the oranges away and discard. Section the oranges and add them to the cranberries. Then squeeze the juice of the oranges onto the mixture. Add a half cup of sugar and place the pot over high heat. Stir constantly at first to make sure all the sugar melts, and when all of the berries have popped and the orange sections have fallen apart, transfer the sauce to a blender of processor and puree to the desired consistency. I like it a little chunky. A few quick bursts is usually all it takes. It will make about 2-1/2 cups. You can make this several days in advance and store it in the refrigerator, but be sure to take it out before serving so that it comes to room consistency. You can also cook it down further until the juice is very thick, press it through a sieve, and use it as a sauce for custard desserts.
November 20, 2008
Our friend Catherine Diehl was in town visiting her daughter Caki so we met at Two Amys on Saturday afternoon. I love the food there — not only the pizzas, but also all the “small plates” of house-made charcuterie, anchovies and sardines, devilled eggs, arosticini (skewered lamb), shaved fennel and radishes, and their salads. It’s always packed and it’s in a very yuppie neighborhood, so it’s always filled with kids and baby carriages. The deafening sound level is authentically Neapolitan, so we go at 3:30 or 4:00 in the afternoon, between the family shifts, and stay for a couple of hours, downing their delicious and affordable wines, a half dozen or so of those little dishes, pizzas, and a salad (the four of us split one salad on Saturday!). The wine list changes frequently. With appetizers, which included  indescribably scrumptious pickled swordfish sott’olio, we had the Masseria Pisari Salento Rosato, a bone-dry rosé from Puglia, made of 100% Negromaro grapes. One of the reasons that their wine list changes is that Peter Pastan, the owner, is careful to avoid international-style wines, and offers affordable, delicious wines made from indigenous grapes. The wonderful rosé we had, which the menu described as  “scary dayglo color; steely with nice citrus notes,” opened to a rich vineyness that was a surprise in a rosé. Only 4000 bottles of that wine are produced each year, so it probably won’t be on the menu the next time we go. It’s just as well, since cold weather has arrived and they’ve probably already harvested the 2008! The servers are all young and hip and nice, especially Sandro, from Peru, who recommended the De Angelis Lacrima Christi del Vesuvio 2005 for our red that day. 2005 was generally speaking a great year throughout Europe, but I had not had any of the wines from Campania from that year. I have quaffed my share of “Christ’s tears,” as the wine is known, but the De Angelis brothers are making wines that even outshine their stunning setting on the slopes of Mt. Vesuvius, where, legend has it, Christ wept when Lucifer was cast out of heaven. Piedirosso, one of the local grapes (also known as Palombina), makes up 50% of the wine, but at De Angelis they wed it with the powerful Aglianico (up to 20%), know as the Barolo of the South, and yet another local grape, the Olivella (also known as Sciascinoso). The result? A powerhouse of black summer fruits with soft tannins and spicy finish, the perfect accompaniment to our wood-fired pizzas. Time after time we go to Two Amys (and we seldom eat out), and, while the pizzas are occasionally not quite as crisp as I’d like, the ingredients are sublime and everything else is so delicious that we don’t care.
November 18, 2008
We’ve still not had a frost, but it looks as though we’ll get one tonight. I’ve pulled the last of the tender herbs and vegetables like basil and peppers from their pots and replanted them with the flowering bulbs I had stored in the basement. Our neighbor’s peppers are still producing. I took this photo this morning. I’ll remind her to havest them today. She’s taken in one of our neighbors whose house is next door to a house that burned this morning in a two-alarm fire. The number of alarms, I found out, is related to how many firetrucks and fire fighters are dispatched to a fire. Each city has its own formula. There were fire trucks up and down our one-block-long, one-way street, as well as three blocks filled with fire trucks up and down our cross street. I’ve just learned that a body was found in the house. A dog was seriously burned, but was saved.
November 13, 2008 
No sooner had I put my bulbs in pots than the squirrels discovered them, so I bought some flexible plastic screen and giant rubber bands to seal the pots. I also sprinkled them heavily with cayenne. So far, so good.
I drove Mikel to work this morning and continued on down to the Wharf to buy some fish for dinner. They advertise that they open at 7:00 am, but they were nowhere near set up yet. I asked what were the most beautiful fish they had and dolphin from Florida is what caught my attention, though they weren’t yet displayed. I had my new Flip® camera with me and thought I’d try to film the Wharf and post the video on my blog. You’d never know I have a Masters Degree in Film! (In my own defense, I must say that I never went into that line of work, but stuck with still photography, which I taught in graduate school, until I became a food writer in the early 80s).
The dolphin filets were wrapped in plastic, but I could tell that they were fresh. The skin still had some yellow and green in it (the colors fade quickly) and the flesh had a pinkish hue, another sign that it is fresh. Dolphin can be cooked just about any way you can imagine — fried, grilled, steamed, baked, or in stews. Try not to cook it more than medium rare. The flesh will just have turned from a translucent pink to an opaque white.
Here’s a link to the video.
I bought a one-pound dolphin filet, with skin on. It drives me crazy when folks insist on calling dolphin “mahi-mahi,” which is a Hawaiian word for the Pacific form of the fish, Coryphaena hippurus. The fish are powerful pelagic swimmers that are not easily caught in nets. Dolphin are found in nearly all tropical and subtropical waters, but most of what we see in markets on the East Coast are line-caught off the coasts of the southeastern states (the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida). When I was growing up and we would catch them in the Gulf Stream, we would cut off their tails and bleed them overboard for superior flavor. They range widely in size from 2 to 50 pounds, but most are less than 20. The color of the live fish is extraordinarily beautiful, with emerald greens and nearly fluourescent yellows and turquoise. They light up like neon when they are excited and feeding, and when you first land them they appear to be lit from within. The great fish expert, A. J. McClane, wrote: “The dolphin obviously evolved at a time when nature was in a generous mood as, apart from its beauty, it is also one of our most delicious seafoods. The meat is unique, large-flaked, and sweetly moist… The fish incidentally bares no relation to the mammal called “dolphin, which is a member of the porpoise family.”
Restaurants pandering to illiterate consumers rather than educating them have nearly everyone calling dolphin, “mahi-mahi” now, as though they would serve “Flipper” any more than they would serve “Tai Shan,” the beloved panda cub at the National Zoo. That said, you should know the provenance of your fish and make sure that they were line-caught. Dolphin are plentiful and reach maturity at an early age, so they are among the “best” fish to eat, according to the Environmental Defense Fund’s website. You can download their Pocket Seafood Selector.
I haven’t decided how I’m going to cook the fish, but it will probably be very simple. One of my favorite ways to have it is grilled alongside green tomatoes and a mango relish (recipes below). But it’s too rainy and cool for that tonight. Perhaps I’ll adapt one of McClane’s recipes.

Grilled Dolphin and Green Tomatoes

 

If you can’t find dolphin or mahimahi, use another firm, white-fleshed fish. This recipe is simplicity itself.

                       

2 pounds firm green tomatoes                   

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup, or more, olive oil

6 dolphin fillets, about 1 inch thick (about 1/2 pound each)

           

Build a charcoal fire or set a gas grill to medium to preheat. Slice the tomatoes, discarding the stem end, and place the slices in a shallow container such as a rectangular glass casserole dish. Season them with salt and pepper, then drizzle the olive oil over them  until they are lightly coated.

When the fire is ready, pick up each slice of tomato with tongs, allowing any excess oil to drip back into the container. Place the slices on the grill and cook until black grill marks appear and the slices are thoroughly warmed through, about 4 minutes on each side. In the meantime, place the fish down in the oil and turn, making sure each piece is well coated. Add more oil, salt, and pepper, if needed. Remove the tomato slices to a serving platter, then place the fish on the grill. Cover the grill and place the serving platter of tomatoes on top to stay warm. Cook the fish for 5 mintues on the first side, uncover the grill, turn the fish, and cook uncovered until the flesh just flakes when pried with a fork, about another 5 minutes. Serve immediately.

Serves 6.

 

Mango Relish

 

This brightly flavored salsa will keep for a couple of days in the refrigerator, but is best when made at the last moment. It takes just a few minutes to make it.

2 mangoes, peeled, pitted, and diced

1 orange, peeled, seeded, sectioned, and cut up

1 cup chopped scallions, whites and some of the green

1 fresh hot pepper such as a jalapeño, seeded and minced

1/2 cup chopped red bell pepper

1/4 cup fresh lime juice

sea salt 

1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves

Combine the mangoes, orange, scallions, peppers, and lime juice and toss well. Season to taste with salt. Toss in the cilantro just before serving.

Serves 6.

 

November 12, 2008

I posted the following on November 3, but then was asked by the Washington Post to remove it from my blog because they were considering running my Letter to the Editor. Now they tell me that they aren’t going to, so I’m posting again what I originally posted over a week ago:

Tom Sietsema at the Washington Post

 

I am not a restaurant critic, but I have had that thankless job before. I’ve met my share of jaded and/or pompous food writers (not just restaurant reviewers), but the Washington Post’s Tom Sietsema is not one of them. He is the most passionate, hard-working person I know in the field of culinary letters, and I know many of the biggest names in our bloated profession. He gives 200% to the Post, writing columns that his job description does not include and spending much of his own money going again and again to restaurants around the globe before he puts his pen to paper to describe his meals there. I’ve eaten with him many times, not just out on “review dinners,” but also in his home, and at mine. The man is a joy to be around. ”Integrity” could be his middle name.

 

It was with shock, then, that I read the following in the Post:

 

Critic Tom Sietsema should have recused himself from reviewing the Commissary, a restaurant featured in the Oct. 29 Food section. He and one of the restaurant’s owners had earlier had a personal relationship. The Washington Post regrets that he reviewed this restaurant, and will remove the review from its online archive.

 

Because I write for the Post occasionally they probably won’t run my letter, but I sent the following email to the Editors today [November 3, 2008]:

 

To the Editors:

 

Why should Tom Sietsema ”recuse himself” from reviewing a restaurant because he had a personal relationship with one of its owners? The Dining section of the Post is not a court of law.

 

Everyone who knows Sietsema also knows that he is unflinchingly fair. To my mind, he’s generous in his reviews. I have been out with him on several “review dinners” and I know from personal experience that he would never write anything that would jeopardize his integrity. His personal relationships have nothing to do with his role as a restaurant critic. Restaurateurs shouldn’t get mad about his constructive criticism:  they should welcome it. I’ve seen many restaurants improve both the quality of their food and their service because of Sietsema’s written insights. He eats out a lot more than they do. He knows not only what the competition is like, but what his readers expect as well.

 

I have had the thankless job as restaurant critic. It’s not the party that folks think it is. But Sietsema goes at like no other, with passion and joy, and a genuine desire to serve the public. He is highly revered among his peers. He has never been known to put a single word to the page without carefully weighing it, as though he were baking a cake for a loved one’s 100th birthday. He would never let his own personal tastes bias his reviews any more than he would change that centenarian’s favorite recipe.

 

Sincerely,

John Martin Taylor 

 

I find it amusing that the Post mentions the restaurant in question in their “regret,” since word on the net is that the restaurant owners insisted that their properties never again be reviewed by the Post. Hmmmm…

As I have maintained many times on my blog, I will not rant herein, nor will I post rants from readers (I purposely make it impossible for others to post here without first making an effort to write me something civil.) Nevertheless, I find this situation ludicrous. Tom had a few dates with a relative of the principal owner over three years ago. He has been in a committed relationship for over a year. His affair three years ago has NOTHING to do with what he writes. You can Google Tom’s name and find out more about this over-reaction to a mini-review which the owners could have used to their advantage to tweak their problems. Instead, they declared war on Sietsema, and the Post gave in.

Let’s just imagine that the person who reviews automobiles for the paper had had four dates three years ago with the niece of one of the biggest automobile dealers in the area. And he gets to drive one of the newly released cars. And it sucks. And he says so. Would the car dealership raise hell (and pull their substantial advertising dollars)?

The Letters Editor at the Post had already asked Tom if he and I are friends. Of course, he told them: I say as much in my letter. Then the Post called me and asked me if I had any financial interest in any restaurants reviewed in the paper. Uh, I sell some of them my stone-ground grits, I said, but I have never invested one dime in any restaurant anywhere. I also told him that I was surprised that he was considering running my letter since I occasionally write for the Post.

What if the music critic went to hear a band at the 9:30 Club and the band’s performance was great? Let’s say that he had four dates with one of the band members three years ago, but the affair, if you can call it that, didn’t last. Never mind that he’s now engaged to the Love of His Life. Do you really think he would trash the band, even if she had broken his heart?

 

The funny thing about this is that the restaurant in question is almost universally trashed by bloggers, so it wasn’t just Tom’s opinion. I don’t usually say anthing negative about restaurants, but the last two meals I had in two other restaurants owned by the same folks were AWFUL. There. Enough said.
I will never go back to ANY of their restaurants now.
Joe Yonan, the Food Editor of the Washington Post, has an article about sweet potatoes filed under the Cooking for One column in today’s paper. Sweet potatoes are one of my favorite foods as well. In the article he tells of leaving a potato a bit too long in a 425o oven and coming home to find it densely caramelized. It’s for that reason that I often caution my readers to never bake sweet potatoes over 375o — unless, of course, you want the sugars caramelized. Reading through Joe’s article reminded me of a recipe I developed for an AIDS fundraiser for which my friends the B-52s were one of the event’s sponsors. They asked me to come up with something vegetarian. As I recall the event was held at Alice Tully Hall. It was many years ago and I couldn’t go, but the recipe was a crowd pleaser and I was asked for the recipe by at least a dozen journalists afterwards. I published it in The New Southern Cook in 1995. It’s one of my favorites and I think I’ll make it tonight!

Sweet Potato Ravioli with Roasted Garlic Crème Fraîche

 

Though much of my cooking, as you can tell from this blog, is either Italian or southern American, this recipe is neither, though it is not unlike similar pumpkin-filled pasta dishes found throughout Italy, where fresh sage is often the herb of choice. I usually make my version in the dead of winter, when sweet potatoes are widely available and even outdoor chive plants thrive.

If you are going to make your own pasta, you’ll need to begin this recipe an hour or so before you plan to eat: the pasta dough should rest before you roll it out. If you have a source for fresh pasta in sheets, of course, you needn’t make your own. You will need about 8 ounces of flat pasta sheets. You can also use wonton wrappers, though they do taste a little different. It will take about 24 wontons wrappers (1/2 pound). Instructions for filling the wonton wrappers follow those for the homemade pasta. I’ve made this recipe alone — including rolling out the dough — in a 3- by 4-foot kitchen. If you’ve got the time and inclination, go ahead and make your own pasta. It’s fun.

 

If you don’t have a source for crème fraîche, you can make a good substitute by following the recipe below, but you’ll need to make it a day in advance.

           

For the pasta and roasted garlic:

 

1-1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (Do not use a soft southern flour because it doesn’t have

          enough gluten to make pasta.)

pinch of salt

2 eggs

1 whole head of garlic

olive oil

Preheat the oven to 375o. Place the flour and salt in the work bowl of a food processor and process briefly to combine. Beat the eggs lightly in a separate small bowl or cup and, with the processor running, add them in a stream. Continue processing until the dough forms a ball.

Remove the dough from the processor and knead until fairly smooth, about 5 or 10 minutes. The dough will be stiff, but will start to show some signs of elasticity after you’ve kneaded it for ahile. Wrap well in plastic and refrigerate for about an hour. In the meantime, place the garlic heads in ramekins or custard cups, drizzle with olive oil, and bake until they give to the touch, 45 minutes to an hour. You can bake a sweet potato at the same time. You’ll need a cup of cooked, mashed pulp (see below).

Just before removing the dough from the refrigerator, prepare the filling.

For the filling:

 

1 cup boiled or baked sweet potates, peeled and mashed

1 egg, beaten

1/4 pound grated parmesan cheese

1/4 cup fresh chives, finely chopped

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper

   

Mix all of the ingredients well together. Set aside while you prepare the dough. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil while you prepare the ravioli. Try to work quickly, but carefully: you don’t want the dough to dry out or to absorb the filling.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and run it through a pasta machine or roll it out by hand until it is as thin as it can be and still hold the filling. You should have about 12 feet of pasta about 4 inches wide. I hang four 3-foot lengths of dough over a broom handle across the backs of two chairs and cover them with damp tea towels. 

Dust a large surface lightly with flour; dust your hands as well. You will also need to have another surface covered with another kitchen towel lightly dusted with flour. Remove one of the 3-foot long sheets of dough from where it hangs and cut it in half, placing the two sheets on the dusted counter. Place heaping teaspoons (2 to 3 teaspoons) of the filling in the middle of one of the sheets at 3-inch intervals. Cover with the second sheet of pasta and, working from the far side toward you, gently press the top sheet onto the bottom, pressing out any air bubbles before completely sealing the spoonfuls in. Cut all along the outer edges and between the fillings with a ravioli crimper to seal the edges, then place the ravioli on the floured towel, not touching, and cover them while you continue making the rest of the ravioli.

If you are using wonton wrappers, you will also need a dusted countertop and towel. Spread the wonton wrappers out on the surface, put a heaping teaspoon of filling on each wrapper, and moisten the left and bottom edge of each sheet with water, painting an L-shape. Fold the wonton over, bringing the far right corner diagonally across the filling to meet the near left corner. Press the edges together, pushing out any air bubbles as you do, then bring the folded corners together to form traditional wonton shapes. Place on a clean kitchen towel dusted with a little flour, not touching, until all of the wontons are filled. Immediately prepare the sauce and cook the pasta.

           

To assemble the dish:

 

1 cup crème fraiche (see below)

1 head of roasted garlic (see above)

salt and freshly ground white pepper

Cook the ravioli in a large pot of boiling water for 2 to 5 minutes while you prepare the sauce.

Put the crème fraîche in the top of a double boiler over simmering water. Cut the bases off the heads of garlic and remove any of the loose papery covering. Squeeze the roasted garlic into the crème fraiche and whisk it in well. Heat until just warmed through, season to taste with the salt and white pepper, and serve immediately over the ravioli.

Serves 4.

To drink:  Go buy a nice botle of the 2005 Beaune Blanc such as Louis Latour’s. You want a Chardonnay without much oak and not too much alcohol.

 

Crème Fraîche (substitute)

 

The day before you want to use it, mix together two parts cream to one part sour cream in a nonreactive container. Allow to sit at room temperature for 6 to 8 hours. Place the mixture in a funnel lined with a coffee filter or something similiar and set aside to drain for 2 or 3 hours, until thick.

           

Mix in a teaspoon of lemon juice for each cup of crème fraîche. It will last about a week when well-capped in the refrigerator.

November 9, 2008
Mikel, my partner of 15 years, has been visiting friends in Mexico this week, so I haven’t been cooking. Last Friday I did cook dinner for Diana Kennedy, and this week, I went out with Phyllis Richman, the former restaurant critic for the Washington Post, and on to a book party at the home of Robert Kaiser, an Associate Editor of the Post, whose daughter Emily‘s new book about tea we were toasting. Emily is an editor at Food & Wine, and she wrote the book with Michael Harney of Harney & Sons. I can’t tell you much about it since they were sold out!
Today I’ll be pulling the last of my basil plants, freezing some of the leaves and making pesto (for instructions, see September 16, 2007), and replanting the pots with bulbs. It’s a gorgeous, cloudless day in Washington. Yesterday I walked in Rock Creek Park for a couple of hours. I just took this photo of the  gingko trees in front of our house.
November 5, 2008
Barack Obama Elected President of the United States in Landslide as Americans reject the failed policies of the Bush administration and 30 years of Republican rule.
Last night I walked to the White House with my dear friend Richard Little, joining the tens of thousands of cheering, jubilant people. We hugged and kissed and high-fived dozens of strangers, and when we walked home at 2 am, 16th Street was thronged with thousands more headed toward the White House, chanting “Gobama!” and “Yes, we did!”
A truly historic night in the nation’s capital and in American history.
This morning I had in my email inbox dozens of exclamatory missives, including several from Sri Lanka, Italy, France, and England. The world, it seems, is thrilled with our choice!