"RibN Redux"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 10"

I went to a Super Bowl party yesterday at the home of my friends, the Jokesters. Bless them for the invite, as we don't have television reception where we live. It's the price we pay for living in paradise. We are trying to get cable to come down our road but so far Comcast is not receptive to the idea. I don't really miss TV except for things like the Super Bowl and the Olympics, well, and the Food Network. Given that New Orleans is our second home, I need hardly say, a good time was had by all. Whoo Hoo! - Way to go Saints! Laissez les bons temps rouler!! Cheering on the Saints with us was one of the sweetest dogs on the planet, Marianne and Steve's Australian Shepherd named RibN. His appellation is derived from a ribbon of black fur that dissects his right side (or is it his left?). Aside from his good nature, he is a thing of beauty and I thought today would be a good day to reacquaint myself with the breed.

"Blue"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel - 8" x 10"

As you can see, I am going through a brindle phase right now. Blue here, belongs to my landscape designer. He brought him over today to model for me. Sporting the typically gorgeous Australian Shepherd coat, his eyes are particularly unusual, in a Marilyn Manson sort of way. One is half brown and half blue, the other pure ice blue. He is also a sweetheart (except to groundhogs, I've been told). His coquettish sidelong glance is endearing.

"RibN"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 6"

I'm not sure why I was reminded of the menu of the late lamented Hausner's Restaurant in East Baltimore when I was working on this. Possibly because the restaurant was brimming with late 19th century art and on the menu cover was an image of a particularly sentimental but sweet painting of a little girl and a Saint Bernard from their collection. RibN, my friends Marianne and Steve's Australian Shepherd bears little resemblance to a St. Bernard. Perhaps it was the bits of pink hinted in his snout that jogged my memory.
My mother was a product of German immigrants. She was what you might call a "disinterested" cook. Her limited culinary bag of tricks was distinctly 50's - no herbs, no spices (except Adolf's meat tenderizer, S&P (not freshly ground pepper- Heaven forbid!), maybe some dried oregano to throw in the spaghetti, canned vegetables, and then cook the hell out of everything (sorry Mom). Although her father was a professional pastry chef, I'm afraid the apple fell very far from that tree. To be fair, my mother was a diabetic and an ex model and actress, so I guess food wasn't high on her list of priorities. Thankfully for me, my boyhood friend Keith's parents allowed me to tag along when they went to Hausner's. My palate, dulled by years of bland cooking, was desperate for new experiences. Imagine a 14 year old boy tucking into his first plate of hasenpfeffer...Yum!! Did I mention that Hausner's was known for their strawberry shortcake?