ELITE “FOOD RESPONDERS” DROP OFF GOODS TO NANCY SILVERTON IN LOCKDOWN AT SAN QUARANTINE

(EDITORS’ NOTE - This is not a “siren song” -  something alluring on the surface, but ultimately dangerous - to chefs or Mozza employees and friends or anyone in Los Angeles to drop off anything to Nancy or Michael, but rather a heartfelt “thank you” to those who already have )

Friday night, as we were getting ready to watch the 23rd episode of ‘'The Restaurant”, the Sundance Channel show that helped us get through one anxious week, I got this text from Chad Colby, the ex Chi Spacca chef and now main man at Antico; “About to do a drive by.” If you know me, even a little, you know what that brought to mind. But, Chad quickly followed it up with a “dropping ice cream at your porch in two minutes.’

I went outside three minutes later and saw a paper bag. Inside were four pints of Antico Ice cream. considered by many, including Mozza Tribune restaurant critic Kate Green, the best in Los Angeles. There were two honeycombs, one cookies n’ cream and a vanilla almond crunch You talking about hitting the spot.

it was the first of several elite “Food Responders” dropping off goods to Nancy, who is in lockdown at San Quarantine after testing positive for the virus last week and Michael, who, ,somehow, tested negative.

The next day, Brianna “Breezy ‘ Valdez, the empress of HomeState, called to check in. I told her of the many people who had kindly offered to bring foods to the house. “What would you like?” Breezy asked.

I said “A 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO”, which, for the record, sold for $48 million at a Monterey auction in 2018.

A few hours later, I got two texts from Breezy which read. ‘Approaching your doorstep” followed by “With a Ferrari”.

i went outside and inside a HomeState bag were six mouthwatering tacos, 12 award-winning flour tortillas, a creamy queso sauce that was so delicious I ate it like a soup, and most importantly, 12 bags of Fritos, original.

So, Sunday, i was staring at a gold wrapped package of Rudy. aka Rodophle le Meunier buerre de baratte, my favorite butter. Alas, I had no bread.

Minutes later, like a scene out of Homeland where they know what’s going on thanks to a drone, i get a text from Andy Kadin, the owner of Bub and Grandma’s s Bread. Their sesame loaf is my favorite and with the Rudy butter. one of the top meals one can have. i once made a midnight supper for Nancy which was just that, the Rudy slathered on Bub’s sesame. Nancy and I decided this would be our Last Supper.

“I’m gonna drop some bread off to you. 13 minutes away,” Andy’s text read.

So, 12 minutes later, Andy comes by with two loaves of sesame, a loaf of poppy seed and two pastries with dates kumquats and frangipan. It’s slathering time.

On Monday I called Polla a la Brasa, Nancy’s favorite, just to check on their hours. Thirty minutes later i get a call form Ivan Maekawa, the owner. “What’s your address, I’m gonna bring you and Nancy a chicken.”

Two hours later, Ivan is walking up to the porch, not only with a roast chicken but a bottle of A Midwinter Nights Dram, a prized rye whiskey. You can have a chicken on rye i’ll take the chicken and rye.

NANCY UPDATE: STILL NO CORONA SYMPTOMS, BUT CONCERN RISES OVER UNUSUAL BEHAVIOR

Today, April 6, at noon will mark exactly seven days since Nurse Practitioner Mary DeNicola told us over a cell phone video “Chat” those miserable words. “Nancy, you tested positive”. Every atom in my body suddenly drooped. My knees buckled. “Michael you tested negative.” My only thought was at least I would be able to take care of Nancy. My second thought was why the fuck do they call this a “Chat”. Chat’s used to be all sweet and warm. Fuck a chat nowadays. Someone come up to me asking me if I wanna chat? Oh, hell no.

But, we must say these past seven days since that “Chat”, a week which i was dreading, hunkered down for the worst, turned out to be as good as they could have been. We want to emphasize we knew she is not out the dark woods yet - but so far the symptoms have not come. Nancy checks her temperature several time a day. ( a 97.2 average), every cough is a brief cause for concern, every bite of food sniffed to make sure her sense of smell is turned on and all bites carefully chewed to confirm some of the world’s finest taste buds still have it. They do. She salvaged a leg of lamb two days ago by adding a copious amount of chef Jenn Louis’ provided “Ray” shawarma spice blend.

Still, there have been some cause for concern. There was behavior by Nancy - and by me - that before Corona would have likely got us admitted. Last night - and I want to be clear I have not been drinking heavily this morning - but last night we watched two Doris Day movies. Watched them back to back Let me repeat that. Last night Nancy Silverton and Michael Krikorian stayed home and watched two Doris Day movies.

The first one was ‘Move Over Darling” in which Doris, presumed dead after a plane crash, reappears after living five years on a desert island. Nancy has the brilliant line. “Look at Doris. She was on a desert island for five years. She looks good.” Her husband, James Garner had just recently remarried. And, well, you get the picture. It’s a remake of the Cary Crant/Irene Dunne 1940 screwball comedy ‘My Favorite Wife’.

Next up was “The Thrill Of It All” where Doris outshines her doctor husband (Garner, again) by becoming a TV soap ad girl. Don’t ask. But, the thing was, they were enjoyable. We’ll watch some more today. Maybe “Send Me No Flowers” with Rock Hudson and Tony Randall.

Anything that gets the mind off Corona and a days eases by with no symptoms. that is a great day.

Gotta go. Nancy is yelling at me. “Michael! Michael! You gotta turn on ‘Let’s Make A Deal’.

.

NANCY UPDATE; SILVERTON NAMED EXECUTIVE CHEF OF SAN QUARANTINE MAXIMUM SECURITY

Nancy Silverton, who last week was diagnosed with the dread of our time, the Corona virus, was named executive chef of the infamous maximum security institution known as San Quarantine, the Mozza Tribune reported today.

The Black Site at an undisclosed location in Los Angeles has housed Silverton since March 27 when she took the test after being in contact with a person who tested bad. (The Tribune’s new policy is to no longer say a dreaded test result was “positive”. That doesn’t make sense.)

Anyway, the magnificent news is that Nancy Silverton continues to feel good. “I feel fine. I don’t even feel “pretty good’. I feel good,” she just now said.

She is showing NO symptoms. Right now, 8:25 a.m., she is on the Ruth Couch, blue mask and gloves on. reading the Sunday L.A.Times and the NY Times. - the actual paper, by the way. - while listening to the daily briefing of NY Gov. Andrew Cuomo’s,

But, last night, after mostly staying away from the food and letting her boyfriend cook, she took over as Executive Chef with a grilled thin-cut beef short ribs on the outside grill that were finished with black olive tapenade. They were accompanied by roasted carrots with cumin and coriander, little gems lettuces with an oregano vinaigrette. A 1961 San Pellegrino sparkling was served.

That Nancy is cooking is a wonderful thing. We think of the countless world wide who have contacted the virus and can’t even eat. let alone cook. So, I know she has a lot of friends. lot of fans. lot of admirers out there and wanted to let you know that she is good. She is also strictly adhering to Dr. Gregg DeNicola’s orders to stay away from people. except this reporter.

There was a disappointment last night when we realized we, after watching 23 episodes of the Sundance TV show “The Restaurant” - Season 3, Ep. 3 - that we were all caught up and have to wait until Friday for a new episode

I’m still worried about her. And everyday that goes by without a symptom is wonderful.

Maybe the best news of today just happened. She was sarcastic to me. People not feeling well don’t have time to be sarcastic. I had asked her “Should I call Sundance and talk to Robert Redford and tell him because of the Insanity to make the last five episodes of “The Restaurant” immediately available?”

“Yeah, Butch go ahead and call him. I’m sure Sundance would love to talk to you.”

NANCY SILVERTON TESTS POSITIVE FOR THE VIRUS

Nancy Silverton has tested positive for the Corona virus. Those are the most dreaded words I ever wrote. But, the most hopeful words I ever wrote are these; Nancy feels fine. She has zero symptoms.

We got the news this past Monday morning from Nurse Practitioner Mary DeNicola, wife of Dr. Gregg DeNicola whose staff gave us the virus test Friday, March 27.  We were on a video conference call with Mary and she said those words “Nancy, you tested positive.” My knees actually buckled. Nancy’s didn’t.  “Michael,” Mary continued, “You were negative.”

She was right. I was negative, a negative angry motherfucker immediately after we got off the phone. But, what good is that? None. I rallied and my positive thoughts pushed the bad ones aside. They try and sneak in, those worst case scenarios, but I push them away.  After all, I am Nancy’s personal Delta Force operator and I got no time for the negativity.

Up top I said Nancy had shown no symptoms, she was acting totally normal. But, as the hours wore on, and I replayed the recent days and realized there was something quite strange that happened very recently.  She was chomping at the bit Sunday evening to go on our three-mile walk and I talked her out of it. Maybe that was symptom, at least it was extremely unusual. It’s extremely unusual Nancy to actually be talked out of something by me.

Last night, Thursday, we watched what has been a salvation of sorts this week, “The Restaurant” an Amazon show set at a high end restaurant in Stockholm right as World War II ends in Europe on May, 1945. We are on episode 23, a record for Nancy and almost “The Wire” stats for me.

An hour or so ago. I walked her up to our  bedroom which Dr. DeNicola and his wife Mary – and Nancy – had ordered me to stay out of. Nancy stood at the bedroom door for a couple seconds looking at me. I told her how I felt about her. She stared at me and smiled as she slowly closed the door. I tell you, and I ain’t just saying this, but Nancy Silverton never looked more beautiful.

A thousand ships

It’s five o’clock Friday evening and we just got back from Dr. DeNicola’s office in Orange who was very encouraging. That Nancy has no symptoms is wonderful.. I mean, i know it’s good, it’s obvious it’s good, but to hear a doctor stay it. too, it makes even more comforting. Kinda like how when you know you didn’t rob that liquor store and the judge backs you up.

On the way to the doctor’s office, on the 101 Freeway, as I drove, at an unheard of 61 mph, under the homeless tent-lined overpasses and over the Los Angeles River, Frank Sinatra came on the radio with “Nancy (With The Smiling Face). The opening goes “ If I don't see her each day, I miss her…Gee, what a thrill each time I kiss her…”

By now i was driving over where the old impoverished and proud Aiiso Village housing projects used to stand wobbly and Frank went on. Believe me, I've got a case ..On Nancy with the laughin' face” .

That moment was like that moment in your favorite movie that only lasts a second or two - a look of something - that only you get, only you appreciate. Defying social distancing, I reached over and touched Nancy’s thigh.

“Don’t touch me,” she said tenderly..

Now, in the last 18 years or so, Nancy Silverton has told me “Don’t touch me’” scores of times, much to my disappointment. But, this time she was looking out for me. It was, as we say, good lookin’.

I’ll keep you posted.

THE NIGHT NANCY SILVERTON MADE A MEDIOCRE OMELET

If Nancy Silverton had one single moment when she felt maybe something wasn’t right with her, it was last Friday night when she made an omelet at her house in Los Angeles.

Earlier that day, March, 27, she and I took the Corona virus test because someone we had been in contact with had tested positive. We hooked up an appointment with a family friend who is a doctor and made the drive to his office in the city of Orange, 42.5 miles away, which around here is basically a road trip.

I’m not a silver lining guy, but I would dread to have taken that drive in normal times. It would have been at least two maddening hours. That day, with the Frank Sinatra station on and all the songs about spring it took 40 minutes.

So we took the test, I shopped for eggs and cheese at a market in the same shopping center as the doctor’s office, we drove home – this time almost sad there was no traffic because we knew why - and that night Nancy made an omelet for her son Ben.

‘It was during the making of the omelet that I realized something was not quite right, “ Nancy said. “When I cook I am very organized. I lay my mise en place out in front of me in the order I will use the ingredients.

“In the case of this omelet, I had the ingredients out -the eggs, butter, salt, Gruyere a wedge of Parmesan and coarsely ground black pepper – and the tools to make it - a small nonstick skillet, a mixing bowl, a fork, a micro-plane, my heat proof red spatula, a small glass of water to emulsify the eggs.

“But, they were scattered all over the work table. They weren’t in my normal properly aligned order. I thought to myself ‘This is not the way I cook. Why am I doing this this was?’ This just did not feel right.”

So Nancy Silverton made the omelet.

It wasn’t the normal Nancy omelet. For one thing, it had a hint  of color to it. Her omelets don’t.  It wasn’t folded properly. Her omelets are. It’s didn’t lay seductively on the plate.  I’m sure most people would have truly relished it. They woulda told their friends about it when they got home. Instagramed it. But, Nancy knew something was wrong.

“That’s when I knew I was sick, When I made that omelet. That wasn’t the way I cook. That omelet was cooked by the virus.”

Three days later, the doctor’s wife called. Nancy had tested positive.

http://www.krikorianwrites.com/blog/2020/3/31/odlfsdioqb59rp0z8n2yxvm8k8v7j3

NANCY OMELET ON A GOOD DAY IN JULY 2019, IN PANICALE, UMBRIA, ITALY

That’s hard to write, What i love to write is Nancy has has no symptoms. She is in lockdown at San Quarantine, aka her home, with her cellie Michael Krikorian who tested, somehow, negative. They have got hooked to two shows. “The Restaurant” and , of all things “Let’s Make A Deal”.

“I’m one of the lucky ones so far.” Nancy said.

DAY 4 LOCKDOWN IN SAN QUARANTINE WITH NANCY; "LMAD" LATEST

When Malakai came on “Let’s Make A Deal”, aka LMAD, he was thrilled to meet storied host Wayne Brady and asked for a “high five’. But, my boy Brady took it further. Along with his side kick Jonathan Mangum, the three hugged.

“See, grown men should be able to hug and show each other affection.’ Brady told his zealous audience. And Nancy and me. The sad thing was Nancy and I couldn’t hug.

“This show is clearly not live,” said my Masked Marvel.

Malakai a UC Riverside student, passed on Curtain #2, praise Allah, as it was a “Zonk!” and opted for Curtain #1 and won a Vespa.

Let’s Make A Deal, a show Nancy and I have watched since way back in April, 2, 2020, has been a fun diversion from this Insanity.  But, alas, today is Friday and we won’t be able to watch until Monday.

SHARIKA WINS A SEA DOO; DAY 3 OF LOCKDOWN IN SAN QUARANTINE WITH NANCY SILVERTON

“Sharika won a Sea Doo!”

i was typing when I heard Nancy yell that out in near-disbelief.

What?

“Sharika won a Sea Doo! She won a Sea Doo.”

For a half a second I thought Nancy Silverton had cracked up the pressure of being on Lockdown here at San Quarantine. I mean,what the fuck is a Sea Doo. But, I twisted around to see the TV show she was watching. Our long time favorite daytime show, “Let’s Make A Deal”, a program we have been watching since way back to April, 1, 2020.

Sure enough,  Nancy was right, Sharika, a former unnamed college track star – she graduated in 2011 - who is now a track coach, had indeed won a Sea Doo, a $2,000 jet ski. And man, was she happy. You’d a thought she had won a Lamborghini Aventador SVJ. Host Wayne Brady, one of the best “Let’s Make A Deal’ hosts since Monty Hall, let her run with her unbridled zeal.

For the second day, the as Lockdown continues, we have been watching shows we would not normally watch. We put on CNN for a little bit, but can’t watch the Moron. Tried Judge Judy for a minute, but mainly the show that has been our salvation, that gets us away from the madness, that we really enjoy is “The Restaurant”, More on The Restaurant later.

THAT’S NOT SHARIKA WITH HOST WAYNE BRADY

IN LOCKDOWN AT SAN QUARANTINE WITH NANCY SILVERTON AS MY CELLIE

Like most everyone in California, I’m in lockdown. In a Garcetti-Newsom ordered “isolation”, for the benefit of us and everyone else.  Kinda like when Big Evil used to get sent – for years – to the Adjustment Center at San Quentin. I call this home confinement San Quarantine. My cellie is Nancy Silverton

Being in isolation with Nancy Silverton sounds like a dream come true. So when I heard we had to stay in the house,  in San Quarantine, I thought about the opening lines of “Cheek to Cheek”. Nancy works so much at the Mozza Corner that I could get the whole day with her without dozens of people coming up with issues and/or boring chat. No one walking up as we eat and “Dinnerrupting” us.

And I was right. It’s been strangely wonderful. But, today we did something that was so out of the ordinary, so straight out un-Nancy like that it compelled me to write. We watched a segment this morning of “Let’s Make A Deal”.

Let’s get right to it. The contestant, a preschool owner in her late 30s, early 40s, wore a bright magenta wig and a flowery dress and was – as apparently required – overzealous. I mean she was bouncing around like a bad version of Tina Turner. I didn’t catch her name, but I’ll call her Rita.

With Nancy watching from the Ruth couch and me on the chair near the tube, the host, my boy Wayne Brady,- who I’ve never heard of. - offered Rita a gigantic peanut butter cup. Not Reese’s. Nevertheless, inside this pie-sized peanut butter cup was money. An undisclosed amount, of course.

Rita could have this or what’s behind the curtain. Or wait, a third choice, what was on a cart. Hmm. I yelled for Rita “Take the peanut butter cup!”  This seemed a win win. Even if there’s was only 10 bucks, you get a huge PBC. Nancy, new at this, was urging Rita to take the curtain. Rita quickly passed on the cart, which had $1,000 worth of, I don’t know, some shit I forgot.

Then Rita did the unthinkable, She passed on the huge peanut butter cup. At this point, my respect for Rita dwindled to nothing. Host Wayne then tossed a curve. He offered her another curtain.

“What’s behind that curtain?” Nancy asked me.  That right there shows you what she knows about this program . I know the basics of the show, having watched it during in the Johnson administration with the legendary Monty Hall as the host.

“That’s the whole point, Rita don’t know. Hasn’t a clue.’  Rita passed. The curtain was revealed and it was a 4-day trip to Mexico where she could’ve been shot or at least kidnapped. Rita wasn’t a total moron, unlike someone we know.

The curtain she picked was unveiled. A chrome washer/dryer set.

Nancy was disappointed  And bored. So was I and we moved on, .

Judge Judy in the house! A man had traded a rifle for some auto body work. The body work wasn’t done properly and he wanted his gun, a Winchester 30/30, back.

That’s how San Quarantine can be. I flipped and we settled on Gov Newsom, and Los Angeles County Health Director Barbara Ferrer. two stalwarts during The Insanity.

And made a hamburger. With Nancy’s Blend.

IF THE MOZZA CORNER LASTS FOR A THOUSAND YEARS, PEOPLE WILL STILL SAY: "THIS WAS THEIR FINEST HOUR"

it wasn’t until Irene appeared at the window that the beauty - and importance - of what Mozza was doing really hit home here at Highland and Melrose. Perhaps we had been so busy to fully appreciate how appreciative people were of what the Corner meant during these times.

For four tense days, at a makeshift walk-up ordering window at Chi Spacca, hundreds of laid off restaurant workers had “ordered” two hot entrees - usually roast chicken thighs and/or vegetarian lasagna - and picked out some supplies - such as a box of cereal or mac n cheese, toilet paper or hand soap - then thanked chef/owner Nancy Silverton and the Mozza staff and moved on. Roughly 150 people a night were coming by as part of the Nancy Silverton/ Maker’s Mark Whiskey collaboration known as the Restaurant Workers Relief program.

Then, on Day 4, Sunday night, Irene showed up. She was a pretty, long-haired Asian American who had been laid off and was - like almost everyone else - quite thankful for the food and supplies we gave her with a decent amount - but not overly so - of good cheer. But, then she shifted gears like that Ford GT40 down the Mulsanne straight in “Ford vs. Ferrari”..

“I don’t think you realize what this means to us,” Irene said. “That you care. I want to contribute.” She had been talking in a controlled, but passionate tone. But, then her voice cracked as she add “Can i bring I contribute something, Can I bring some rolls of toilet paper?” And she burst into tears. She, like Bruce Springsteen sings, “burst just like a super nova”. The cardboard menu Irene was holding was dotted with her tear drops.

Before her, at the window. Francis Sebastian, the Chi Spacca general manager and a member of the Mozza Corner Special Forces, started to drop his own tears. Tough guys weeping is kinda special. Alan Birnbaum, Pizzeria and Osteria Mozza GM, Ping Pong Room and Apartment cleaner and also a Special Ops member, was, uncharacteristically, unable to speak. Nancy standing 10 feet away and watching, got misty-eyed and smiled a rather sad smile. Jimmy Dolan, the Mozza Tribune staff writer, standing nearest to Irene, violated social distancing, and reached out to touch her shoulder as tender as he is capable of, which isn’t particularly tender.

“Irene has become a symbol for us," said Nancy who took a rare night off yesterday to rest after a week of 13 hour days. “She came to represent the gratefulness of the community. That the food and supplies are appreciated and needed, but even more so. knowing that people care about them. That’s the most beautiful thing when you’re struggling. That people you don;t even really know care about you. The lasagna will feed you that night, but knowing you’re cared about can get you through the day.”

Since that Sunday, we’ve been waiting for Irene to reappear. We told her to come back every night. But, we haven’t seen her. Francis and I weren’t there very much Friday night, so maybe she came by and the people filling in didn’t know her. So, Irene, if you happen to read this, reach out with a text to the Mozza Tribune. (213) 700-1960.

The Mozza Corner has had many glorious - and some scary - moments. There was the time, before Pizzeria Mozza had even opened when legendary pizzaiola Chris Bianco blessed the oven. There was the night, thanks to copy editor Saji Mathai, we got early word that L.A. Times restaurant critic S.I. Virbila had awarded three stars to the Pizzeria. The day in 2009 or so when Osteria got a Michelin star. The first night Michelle Obama came in with her kids - and secret service agents. There was the day a speeding pickup truck slammed into the front doors of Osteria. The night when word came to the kitchen that Nancy had been named Outstanding Chef in America at the James Beard Award. The day Dario Cecchini told the story of his first bistecca Fiorentina The night we got word Tony the cleaner from Nine-O Crips was gonna do a take over robbery because he was pissed he got fired. The night Stringer Bell aka Idris Alba, had a drink with Nancy and Michael, And then there was those cherished “Shift Drinks”, the end of shift drink, after 13 years, over 4,800 of them.

But, looking back over the last 13 years, four months, two weeks since Mozza opened, there was never a finer moment than the night when Irene cried.

Just in case you are too young - and/or dumb - the headline is riffed from Winston Churchill rallying the British in 1940. His speech went like this.

“….the Battle of Britain is about to begin. Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilisation. Upon it depends our own British life, and the long continuity of our institutions and our Empire. The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be freed and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duty and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say: This was their finest hour.”