I am working on notes from my Happy Hour at Willow with Mac the other day. There are so many threads contained in the scrawled words that talking about them only leads to more questions and more stories.

This harvest included some rumination on the love-styles of single servicemen and women overseas in the Greater War, a couple key obituaries, the genesis of the Red Hill Fuel complex at Pearl Harbor, where the papers are of the people who made this astonishing history, and some assorted recipes.

That is what got me going this morning. I am going to stop by the Commissary later, and I wanted to try to recreate one of Mac’s signature dishes, the No-Fry Veggie Eggplant Parmesan. Mac is indeed a man in full- when he was caring for his beloved wife Billie in the decade of her decline into the prison of Alzheimer’s, he took over the cooking at the house.

“What was your favorite recipe?” I asked on more than one occasion, and he brought the cookbook to which he had contributed the dish.

“No question- it was the eggplant parmesan.” He gestured at the rectangular wire-bound book on the bar in front of us. “I marked some other ones that I contributed to the book. The Gazpacho is good, and so is my tomato meat loaf. But the no-bake eggplant parmesan is my favorite, hands down.”

“I would like to try that out,” I said, “but I am off meat at the moment, particularly the ground stuff.”

“I don’t mind a bit of fat, now and again,” he said thoughtfully, popping a bit of Tracy O’Grady’s crackling duck skin in his mouth. “My Mother did fried chicken like nobodies business. Good Iowa farm food.”

“I bet. That isn’t what is going on these days, I’m afraid.” I shook my head sadly. “I got a note from an astute and acerbic friend of mine who retired out west, Admiral. He is one of us, and now that he is retired, he likes to roll grenades into things he thinks are ridiculous.”

“There is enough of that around,” said Mac. Old Jim and the usual suspects were making room for Jim’s lovely wife Mary and one of her pals.

“My out-west pal was a brilliant analyst when I first worked with him thirty years ago, Mac. We have been partners in crime on several occasions since then, but he is retired now, and has the luxury to take up topics as he feels like it. He launched an assault on the school lunch program this morning. You won’t believe what is in it.”

“Probably not, but you are going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir, I am.” I put down my pen and took a sip of happy Hour White that Elisabeth-with-an-S kept at precisely the right level. “You know the Administration is pushing a “healthy-food” initiative for America’s youth due to the outbreak of obesity and Type Two diabetes?”

“Oh yes. Goodness, it is quite astonishing what has happened since I was younger. We all used to be skinny, and if we got chicken on Sunday that was a good thing. During the Depression we went back to a barter economy when the banks were closed.”

“I remember your telling me that. Well, beef has gotten much more expensive lately, and there has been some new products introduced to make the “Dollar Menu” possible at the fast food restaurants. They call it Pink Slime.”

“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”

(Pink Slime, ready for blending.)

“It is sickening. I saw a picture of some- and it was being used at MacDonald’s and Burger King until a few months ago, and my pal pointed out that research indicates it is present in 70% of the ground beef at the supermarket.”

“I thought that is why Teddy Roosevelt got the Pure Food and Drug act passed,” said Mac. “That was a good thing.”

“Well, the Agriculture Department just announced they are going to issue a contract for seven million pounds of “Pink Slime” for its school lunch program. That is 3,500 tons of the stuff.”

“What is it?” asked Mac, taking a sip of Bell’s lager.

“The term Pink Slime refers to a ground-up blend of beef scraps, connective tissue, and other trimmings, treated with ammonium hydroxide to kill food-borne pathogens like salmonella and E. coli.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It is. I did some research and saw a picture of it. The resulting product has a shocking pink appearance and a mouth feel described as more like Jell-O than hamburger. Suffice it to say the stuff is so gross that McDonald’s and Burger King swore off using it in January, the same month the Ag Department announced it was part of a nutritious meal.”

“Are you saying the Democrats are responsible?” asked Mac.

“Oh no, it is exactly as bipartisan an example of greed as everything else is. The lady who heads Beef Products, Inc., the company that makes the crap came out of the W Administration, though she might have been a Clinton hold-over. She calls the Slime ”Lean Beef Trimmings.”

“It is anything but that, from what you say,” said Mac, looking a bit troubled. “We had to eat some awful stuff in the mess on Guam. It was all C-rations.”

“Yeah, everything in a can. For Pink Slime, the objection is that since it is all connective tissue, it isn’t meat at all. Plus, they put ammonium hydroxide into the food stream, and even that doesn’t necessarily kill the E. coli and salmonella.”

“How can they conceive of having that on the school lunch menu? It sounds like the scheme the Reagan Administration had to classify catsup as a vegetable.”

“That was more convoluted than the stupidity it sounds like,” I said with dignity. “I had a chance to work on the interface between Agriculture and the Food and Drug Administration just after 9/11. We were worried about food chain security at the time and terrorists, but it was pretty interesting about who has jurisdiction over what.”
“We have a system of divided government,” said Mac. “Not always by intent.”

“Yeah. As best I could determine, Ag had everything from the open-face sandwich on down, and FD had everything processed from the closed-face sandwich on up.”

Mac looked puzzled for a moment. “So this Pink Slime, processed and put into a hamburger is still Agriculture?”

“Ag and Congress,” I said. “The ketchup as vegetable scheme came out of a big budget cut directed by Congress to the subsidized school lunch program. Then as now, local school districts could receive reimbursement for each lunch served provided it met minimum standards. So guess what? The minimum is the minimum.”

“So the kids get Pink Slime even if the fast food restaurants are cutting it out?”

“Yes, Sir.” I took a deep swallow of wine to get ahead of Liz-S but I was not successful. She appeared as if by magic with a fresh bottle of Pinot Grigio and topped up my glass.

She had been listening in and added some commentary. As you know, she is a licensed attorney trying to crack into the Public Health Policy racket here in D. “When we send our kids to school,” she said, “We expect that they won’t be eating the kind of fatty, salty, sugary foods that the Government wants to try to keep them from eating at home.”

“You know what?” I said. “Liz-S is right. Pink Slime is available only for institutional sale. Kids will not be eating it at home.”

“That is just one of the reasons I used to cook,” said Mac. “It is fun, and relaxing. And you know what is on the plate when you are done.”

I nodded in agreement, and then we got off on talking about the relative quality of the mess hall food on Guam in 1945 (the Seabee Mess was quite good) and where the Plymouth Staff car wound up after that legendary party with the gallons of Grasshoppers and the Navy Nurses at the Makalapa Junior Officer BOQ in 1946.

And that is how I came to be copying a thoroughly meatless and nutritious recipe this morning in preparation for a trip to the store.

You might want to check out a no-meat version of Mac’s No-Fry Eggplant Parmesan. It is quite delicious, and has no slime whatsoever.

For a more in-depth look at Pink Slime, and how it came to be, check out: Jaimie Oliver’s ‘Food Revolution’. http://www.jamieoliver.com/

Mac’s No-Fry Eggplant Parmesan Recipe
Ingredients
• 2 lbs (about 2 large) eggplants (about three pounds)
• 1 16-oz can jar vegetarian spaghetti sauce
• 3 large eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 16 oz. package of fresh grated mozzarella cheese
• 1/2 cup grated high quality Parmesan cheese
• 1 ½ cups matzah meal
Method
Note: One of the the tricks to Eggplant Parmesan is to drain the eggplant slices of excess moisture first- ed.
Peel eggplants, cut into ½-inch slices. Dip in egg and dredge in matzah meal. Place in a single layer on a lightly greased (extra virgin olive oil- and don’t forget the fabulous new flavored oils you can get from places like www.ahloveoilandvinegar.com <http://www.ahlove> )

Bake at 400 degrees for twenty minutes. Turn eggplant slices and bake an additional 15 minutes. Layer one third of eggplant slices ins a lightly greased 13x9x2 baking dish. Tope with one-third of each of mozzarella cheese and spaghetti sauce; repeat layers twice. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and bake uncovered at 325 degrees for thirty minutes or until thoroughly heated.

Yeild: 8 servings.

Mac notes: “I have used egg substitute rather than fresh eggs and both approaches work well. An easy and delightful dish!”

(Serving suggestion: try this with garden salad and garlic bread.)

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com