Fitting Tribute

No one could write a lovely, looping sentence quite the way our friend Joel could. This, for instance, was how he described one of his favorite Portland places:

"Lone Fir is the resting place of an astonishing variety of those who’ve come to be the city’s natives: along with pioneers and their descendants, there are Russians, Cambodians, Japanese, and Chinese whose families immigrated—some of them generations ago—and stayed." And though we're known for our rain, hippies and volcanoes, he said that they are merely "minor annoyances when compared to the city’s surpassing loveliness. Actually, the hippies are part of the charm, like colorful garden dwarves scattered amidst the tall firs."

The Famous Publisher.

We'd known him since his days as a designer, writer, art and food critic and self-described Famous Publisher of a literary rag called Mississippi Mud that predated zines and graphic novels but was a precursor to them all. He and his ladylove Cheryl also lived a couple of blocks away from us in Sellwood, where he showed Dave how to barbecue a whole turkey on the grill (for which Dave honors him every winter holiday by standing in the rain or snow and raising a pint over our bronzed prize), offered advice on how to repair an aging Victorian and was always available for two parents who couldn't find a sitter and desperately needed a night off.

Pre-unveiling quilt made by artist friends in Puerto Rico.

When he passed away in Puerto Rico from a sudden diagnosis of what-the-fuck-do-you-mean-I've-got-lung-cancer in 2007, his ashes were buried in that same Lone Fir cemetery where a coterie of Portland's literary glitterati bade him adieu. Not to be outdone in the monument category, his friend John Laursen, himself a writer, designer, editor, typographer and printing maven of crazy capabilities, took it upon himself to coordinate, with Cheryl's advice, the design and production of a fitting monument.

Honoring Joel's proclivities including reading, writing, drinking coffee and eating, as well as his love for all things having to do with Mexico's Día de los Muertos, it's a simple yet, shall we say, "avant garde" design that will give others in the neighborhood a run for their money. With type by John, art by Sharon Bronzan and a proprietary color job by Elite Granite and Marble in Hillsboro (they wouldn't even let John watch as they applied it), it provides those of us who loved Joel a marker to wave at as we drive by on our daily errands. 

And, maybe once in awhile, even a place to share a piece of pie.

Read previous posts about Joel: What Goes Around, about his publication Rotund World; Famous Publisher Has His Cake wherein the FP visits and I share a fabulous recipe for Chocolate-Orange Carrot Cake; and the self-explanatory An Appreciation: Joel Weinstein, Famous Publisher.

An Appreciation: Joel Weinstein, Famous Publisher

A few years ago I realized that friendships, like love, can be mutable things. Some people come into your life and you're as close as bugs for what seems like only a few minutes, then they're gone forever. Others come and stay for years, becoming part of the fabric of your days. Then there are those who pop in and out over decades, appearing, disappearing and then reappearing when you least expect it.

A Mississippi Mud cover titled "Safe in Heaven."

Joel Weinstein was one of the latter, a good friend, a writer, designer and cultural gadfly, a self-described "Famous Publisher" (or, more familiarly, FP) who started the iconic and idiosyncratic Mississippi Mud magazine in the 70s, publishing Oregon originals like Walt Curtis, Katherine Dunn, Tama Janowitz, Stacey Levine and Ursula K. Le Guin. Then, as he and partner Cheryl Hartup moved to follow her career as a curator of Latin American art, first in Miami and then in San Juan, Puerto Rico, he took his second publication, Rotund World, online.

Joel on the prowl in Puerto Rico.

His writing was always an inspiration, the loopy, fantastical, intertwining lines inevitably landing to make a pertinent point, whether it was about other writers, artists or, especially, pomposity and arrogance should they raise their heads in his presence. Of Rotund World, he wrote that it would contain "homenajes, comings and goings, squabbles, promesas, sales to important collectors, drunken brawls, unconcealed flattery, pissy interchanges, lukewarm showers, boring stretches of nothing going on, accidental deaths, hip-joint replacements, studio hijinks, unintended insults, and a bit of fly-specking, sometimes all at once."

He dropped in for dinner when he and Cheryl were in town last Christmas, bringing with him a gift of coffee roasted by friends in PR, regaling us with stories about his new friends there, querying us for tidbits of gossip about old ones here, ears pricked for telltale details that he'd squirrel away for the retelling.

The memorial altar at his home in San Juan (notice the sneakers and the cat under the table).

It was a wonderful, warming evening. We didn't know that two months later he would be diagnosed with terminal lung cancer though he hadn't smoked for nigh on 35 years, the irony of which would not be lost on him, to be sure. He passed away on Halloween, and Cheryl opened their house in San Juan to friends and food, music and laughter the next day, the Day of the Dead in Latin culture and also the 18th anniversary of the day they met.

A detail from the altar, with an effigy of Joel in his signature t-shirt, sneakers and shoulder bag.

Per his wishes, his ashes will be buried in Lone Fir Cemetery, of which he wrote, "Lone Fir is the resting place of an astonishing variety of those who’ve come to be the city’s natives: along with pioneers and their descendants, there are Russians, Cambodians, Japanese, and Chinese whose families immigrated—some of them generations ago—and stayed." And though we're known for our rain, hippies and volcanoes, he said that they are merely "minor annoyances when compared to the city’s surpassing loveliness. Actually, the hippies are part of the charm, like colorful garden dwarves scattered amidst the tall firs."

Goodbye, dearest Joel.

---

His friend, Barry Johnson, in a lovely remembrance in the Oregonian, wrote that the Oregon Cultural Heritage Commission, of which he was a founding participant, will celebrate Weinstein with a program called "Discovering Oregon Originals: Joel Weinstein's contributions to Oregon culture," at 7 pm, Wednesday, Jan. 21, First Unitarian Church, SW 12th Ave. and Salmon St.

As Others See Us

"Lone Fir is the resting place of an astonishing variety of those who’ve come to be the city’s natives: along with pioneers and their descendants, there are Russians, Cambodians, Japanese, and Chinese whose families immigrated—some of them generations ago—and stayed," posts former Portlander and now Famous Publisher of the blog Rotund World in Puerto Rico. And though we're known for our rain, hippies and volcanoes, he says that they are merely "minor annoyances when compared to the city’s surpassing loveliness. Actually, the hippies are part of the charm, like colorful garden dwarves scattered amidst the tall firs."

A Gift to Savor

I've come to adore hostess gifts, those tokens of appreciation that you take when someone has kindly invited you into their home. A beautiful bottle of balsamic vinegar, a pair of handmade candles, a jar of jam from Ayers Creek; simple and inexpensive but something the hosts may not always buy for themselves.

Something of the sort came our way the other evening when the Famous Publisher arrived for dinner, bearing a gift of coffee grown and roasted by a friend of his. And not just an ordinary bag of beans, but one with a back story that sounds like something out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel.

It seems that at the end of the 19th century, Jaime Oliver Mayol, as part of the settlement of a debt, came to own a coffee plantation in the high country around Ponce, Puerto Rico's second-largest city. The U.S. government, in control of the island as a result of the Spanish-American War, had forbade Puerto Rican coffee growers from trading with Spain, up to that time the island's premier market. So Jaime got the crazy idea to take his coffee to the St. Louis World's Fair in 1904, where it won the grand prize.

Despite this personal coup, his career as a coffee baron was sadly hampered by the aftermath of the war and a devastating hurricane that hit the island, and it wasn't until his grandson, Miguel Angel Sastre, took the reins of the plantation that the business started to turn around. Miguel formed a coffee cooperative in 1938 that eventually claimed 17,000 members, requiring a baseball stadium to hold its meetings. Though decades later the family had sold off all but the highest mountain property, the original name of the plantation, Gripiñas, was given to the town that grew up around it.

Jaime's great grandson, Luis Valldejuly Sastre, now minds the property and has opened his own cafe and roastery in Ponce called Café Mayor, reputed by FP to have "the best coffee on the island, por mucho." A replication of the original design of the coffee sacks from the Gripiñas plantation graces the bags. We can only hope that someday his product will reach our shores, its rich and unsweetened-chocolate notes a nice departure from the heavy Italian brews we've become so used to.

Details: Read more about Luis and his café on the Rotund World website, with articles here, here and here. Browse a short and fascinating island history on the Wiki.

Famous Publisher Has His Cake

The household was abuzz with the news. A Famous Publisher, in town for the holidays from his home in tropical San Juan, Puerto Rico, was going to come by the house for dinner. Delicacies were laid in, food was bubbling away on the stove and...gasp...even the rug got a good vacuuming. (That's when you know a guest is important around here.)

The FP arrived exactly on time in a well-burnished leather coat and woolly cap, since his blood has thinned out in the tropics. He regaled us with the gossip about the art world in sunny PR and we gabbed about the amazing transformation of Portland from little Puddletown to a burgeoning food capital.

The meal was preceded by cheeses and Viande's incredible venison pate with dried cherries and hazelnuts. The main course was a paella and a salad of wild greens, with dessert an incredibly dense and delicious chocolate carrot cake I'd read about and had been wanting to try.

FP was kind enough to ask for seconds on the paella and raved about the cake, and we were thrilled he'd taken time from his busy hobbing and nobbing to visit our humble abode. Perhaps we'll make it down to his part of the world sometime. Till then, at least we have cake!

Chocolate-Orange Carrot Cake
From Bon Appetit, 1998

For cake:
Nonstick vegetable oil spray
1 1/2 c. vegetable oil
4 lg. eggs
2 1/2 c. all purpose flour
2 1/4 c. sugar
2/3 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
2 c. finely shredded peeled carrots (about 10 oz.)
1 c. (packed) sweetened flaked coconut
1 1/2 tsp. grated orange peel
1 11-oz. can mandarin oranges, drained, cut into 1/2" pieces

For frosting:
2 1/2 c. semisweet chocolate chips (about 15 oz.)
1 c. (2 sticks) unsalted margarine, room temperature
1/3 c. powdered sugar
1/4 c. frozen orange juice concentrate

Additional canned mandarin orange segments, drained, patted very dry

Make cake:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Spray two 9-inch-diameter cake pans with 2-inch-high sides with nonstick spray. [I used a bundt pan and dusted it with cocoa powder. - KAB] Using electric mixer, beat 1 1/2 c. oil and eggs in large bowl until well blended and thick, about 2 minutes. Add flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt; beat at low speed to blend. Increase speed; beat 1 minute longer (batter will be very thick). Stir in carrots, coconut and orange peel, then orange pieces. Divide batter between prepared pans. Bake cakes until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 40 minutes. [Bundt cake will take 90 minutes or more. Test with skewer till it comes out clean. - KAB] Cool cakes in pans 10 minutes. Turn out onto racks; cool completely.

Make frosting:
Stir chocolate chips in heavy medium saucepan over very low heat until melted and smooth. Remove from heat and cool to lukewarm. Spoon 1/3 c. chocolate into small bowl and reserve for decoration. Beat margarine and sugar in medium bowl until fluffy. Beat in remaining melted chocolate and orange juice concentrate. Place 1 cake layer on platter. Spread with 2/3 cup frosting. Top with second cake layer. Spread remaining frosting over top and sides of cake. Arrange additional orange segments around top edge of cake. Rewarm 1/3 cup reserved chocolate to pourable consistency if necessary. Drizzle orange segments with chocolate. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate.)

What Goes Around

Just got an update from our old friend Joel Weinstein, master of the fondly-remembered ass-kicking local magazine formerly known as Mississippi Mud, who is now ensconced in a little casa in Puerto Rico and causing ripples on the internet with his new venture Rotund World. Though I haven't made it through the whole site, it's an amazingly deep survey of what's going on in the world of Latin American art and culture filtered through Joel's shall-we-say unique perspective.

In the old Mud days, Joel was a neighbor in Sellwood, taking Spanish classes, doing freelance design, writing for local pubs and providing occasional babysitting for parents in desperate need of a break. Then he moved to Austin with ladylove Cheryl, then to Miami and now San Juan where his fluent Spanish has landed him in the center of the art and art-journalism swirl on the island, and Cheryl is putting together breath-taking shows as chief curator at the Museo de Arte de Ponce.

What next? We'll just have to check in with RW for the "homenajes, comings and goings, squabbles, promesas, sales to important collectors, drunken brawls, unconcealed flattery, pissy interchanges, lukewarm showers, boring stretches of nothing going on, accidental deaths, hip-joint replacements, studio hijinks, unintended insults, and a bit of fly-specking, sometimes all at once."