Oreo celebrates Gay Pride Month

I'm not surprised that the haters came out in force when Oreo posted a picture on its Facebook page of a rainbow-themed cookie to celebrate Gay Pride Month. (Sadly it's only an illustration, not a real cookie.)

The nasty comments were what you'd expect but there was one that really irritated me. It went something like this: Why would a company risk alienating 97 percent of (presumably straight) consumers to curry favor with the 3 percent who might be gay or lesbian.

That argument is particularly insidious because at first glance, it sounds logical. What business wants to anger 97 percent of the people who might buy its product? But it has the effect of marginalizing the other 3 percent by setting them apart from the rest of America. It's divisive and demeaning.

(I wonder whether this person thinks it's a mistake for supermarkets to cater to Jews with displays of matzo and gefilte fish during Passover? Jews are even less than 3 percent of the population. And you know about the special Coca-Cola we get, right?)

Beyond that, the argument is 100 percent wrong because it ignores just how much American attitudes toward homosexuality have changed. This is not 1960, when gay people were forced to live furtive lives in the shadows of society or pretend that they were straight.

Surveys show an ever-increasing number of straight Americans have someone in their life who's gay or lesbian. And knowing someone who's gay translates into greater acceptance. The younger you are, the more likely that's true. So thinking about what Oreo did in terms of 97 percent versus 3 percent is a total fallacy.

To put it plainly, there are plenty of cookie-eating straight people who support our gay friends. And plenty of cookie-eating gay people as well. They're out, they're proud and we love them year-round. When a company like Kraft, whose Nabisco division makes Oreos, reaches out to them, it makes us want to support that company, too.

A spokesman said that Kraft "has a proud history of celebrating diversity and inclusiveness. We feel the Oreo ad is a fun reflection of our values." Well those are my values, too. So next time I'm at the supermarket, I'll toss a package of Oreos into my cart. (Here's Buzzfeed on what some other snacks would look like showing their pride.)

The anti-gay bigots may think they're the majority in the United States but the percentages - and time - are not on their side.

Summer sightseeing in Manhattan

When I'm not at the theatre, I squeeze in as much sightseeing as is humanly possible during my trips to New York City. The heat and humidity didn't make it easy this time but I persevered.

First up was a return visit to the American Museum of Natural History for Race to the End of the Earth. What's better on a sweltering day than a little polar exploration?

The exhibit tells the story of the competition between British Navy Capt. Robert Scott and Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen in 1910 to be the first to reach the South Pole.

It was a contest of unimaginable hardship, told through artifacts from the two expeditions, photographs and a time line that relates what they were up against every step of the way.

At right is an example of the wooden huts the British built at their camp. Apparently they were especially unprepared for how quickly the temperature plunged from cold to unbearably cold.

Just to give you an idea, last night's temperature at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station in Antarctica was -56 degrees Fahrenheit, with a wind chill that made it feel like -90. That's MINUS 90.

Neither expedition had the high-tech gear that polar researchers use today to make their work safer, no Gore-Tex to keep them warm. (They wore parkas made from reindeer fur and you can touch a sample - it's smooth and silky.)

The exhibit tells the story very well. It explains not just what happened but why. The decisions Scott and Amundsen made about what to bring, when to start out, their backgrounds and personalities, all figured in the outcome.

Here's a segment NPR did about Race to the End of the Earth with the museum's Ross MacPhee and polar explorer John Huston. The exhibit runs through Jan. 2.

I made my first trip to the Jewish Museum for the now-closed Curious George Saves the Day.

This was another interesting story that was unknown to me: how the husband and wife who wrote and illustrated the Curious George books, Margret and H.A. Rey, fled Europe during World War II.

It was so poignant to read the handwritten letter that Hans Rey sent to his British publisher, telling him they made an "adventurous flight from Paris" by bicycle in June 1940, two days before the Nazis marched in.

After traveling by bicycle and train, the Reys reached Lisbon. They sailed from there to South America and finally to the United States, reaching New York City in October 1940. The first Curious George book was published a year later.

The mischievous monkey came from sketches of animals that Hans Rey made when he lived in Brazil in the 1920s and '30s and traveled along the Amazon selling goods. (Apparently, he also complained about the tropical heat, hence the Man with the Yellow Hat.)

The theme of narrowly escaping peril that figures into Curious George's adventures parallels the Reys' escape from the Nazis. (It's amazing how deep children's books are once you learn about the background.)

Curious George Saves the Day moves to the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco from Nov. 14 - March 13, 2011. Here's more about the exhibit from the WBUR radio program On Point.

I don't eat much red meat but I'd been hearing so much about the Shake Shack, which opened in midtown Manhattan, that I really wanted to try it.

Well, the line stretched out the door and down the street. I don't think I've ever stood in a longer line to get a hamburger. All told, it took about 30 minutes.

The verdict: delicious! I was afraid it would be dry, tasteless fast-food fare. Just the opposite.

My Shack Burger with lettuce and tomato was juicy, flavorful, not overly greasy. And the mayonnaise-based Shack Sauce provided the perfect condiment. Accompanied by a refreshing Arnold Palmer, it was a nice light pre-theatre dinner.

Finally, I walked by the fire station at 8th Avenue and 48th Street that houses Engine Co. 54, Ladder 4.

The "Pride of Midtown," which protects Broadway, proudly proclaims that it's "never missed a performance." Judging from the mural, they really get into the role, too.

If you pass by, stop for a moment at the memorial to the 15 men from the station who lost their lives responding to the Sept. 11 attacks. Firefighters enter places where everyone else is trying to flee. Heroes all.

The Honeycrisps are here

There are two seasonal foods I look forward to every year: blueberries in the spring and Honeycrisp apples in the fall.

If you've never tried a Honeycrisp, please do your taste buds a favor and head to the nearest market as soon as possible. The harvest season is roughly from mid-September to mid-October and they don't seem to hang around for very long.

I'd never heard of the Honeycrisp until a couple of years ago, when I saw a big pile of them stacked up at Whole Foods, and figured I'd give them a try. Just the name: honey and crisp, sounded appealing.

It's been tough finding the perfect eating apple.

I'd had my fill of Galas and Pink Ladies and Braeburns and McIntoshes. Sometimes they were great, other times they were kind of soft and mushy tasting. A lot of apples raise expectations, only to dash them once you take a bite. (I'm talking about you, Red Delicious.)

But the Honeycrisp was different, right from the start. It was so tasty and absolutely true to its name - firm and crispy and crunchy and sweet and tart. Honestly, I don't think I've ever had a bad one. This is an amazing apple.

And who do I have to thank: researchers at the University of Minnesota. Another reason to love the Land of 10,000 Lakes! They developed the Honeycrisp by cross-pollinating two other varieties, the Macoun and the Honeygold. The new apple made its debut in 1991.

Horticulture Prof. Jim Luby says the Honeycrisp is "the best, most exciting apple we've ever introduced." I would have to agree.

The art of the Peep

Who doesn't love Peeps? So sugary, so marshmallow-y. And so versatile.

For your viewing pleasure, check out the top 40 entries in the Peeps diorama contest from The Washington Post and from the Chicago Tribune, the 15 finalists in the Peeps on Parade contest.

Lots of entries were inspired by current events, including octomom Nadya Suleman and her octopeeps and former Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich. ("Impeement!")

For theatre fans, the Washington Post finalists include Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Peep Street (No. 14); and Mary Peepins (No. 19).

This year, the winners of both competitions pay homage to classic American works of art. And happy Easter!

Chicken soup, matzo balls, no schmaltz

I used to cook quite a bit and I enjoy it, but with Whole Foods nearby, why bother?

Still, a few times a year, on major Jewish holidays, I'll whip up some chicken soup using the scariest and most dangerous kitchen appliance ever invented - a pressure cooker.

Hey, I'm no Joan Nathan, but this recipe works for me:

Step 1: I slice three carrots and one medium-sized yellow onion so that the bottom of the pot is completely covered. I hate cutting the onions. They sting my eyes and make me cry. I know there's probably a way to cut an onion and not make your eyes sting but I haven't found it yet.

Step 2: Then I add boneless, skinless chicken breasts. These are organic, air-chilled, free-range chickens but really, any kind will do. I just use them because I always have. "Tradition, Tradition!" Naturally, you don't get as much flavor as you would using a whole breast, with the skin and bones, but it's much healthier. Life is a tradeoff.

Step 3: I liberally, and I do mean liberally, sprinkle parsley and celery flakes over the chicken, adding a few teaspoons of powdered chicken soup mix to make up for the lack of schmaltz. The first time I made chicken soup on my own I put in paprika. Big mistake.

Step 4: I add six cups of water. I use bottled water but tap water will work perfectly fine, too. Notice you're not filling the cooker all the way to the brim.

Step 5: I let it cook until the pressure regulator starts rocking violently. Then, turn the heat down slightly and let the cooker simmer for 15 minutes. This is the scary, dangerous part. I'm always afraid it's going to blow up. But I guess that's what the pressure regulator is for. At least I hope.

Step 6: It usually takes about 45 minutes for the cooker to cool and the pressure to go down. If you want to speed things up, you can put the cooker in the sink and run some water over it. There's probably enough soup for six to eight servings.


Step 7: Plop in a matzo ball. I used to make my own from a mix but matzo balls are like tribbles. You make 20 or so the size of walnuts, put them in a pot to boil and in no time at all you've got 20 or so the size of baseballs. Who needs that many matzo balls?


Enjoy! And kids, don't try this at home without adult supervision. (By the way, if the White House is interested, my chicken soup and I are both available for next year's Passover seder.)

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

When I lived in Connecticut, I always got a chuckle reading about a certain St. Patrick's Day tradition in the city of New Haven.

To mark the occasion, the state representative, an African-American man, would present a giant green bagel from New Haven-based Lender's Bagels to the mayor, an Italian-American.

Let's go over that again: the black state representative, the Italian mayor and the Jewish bagel-maker come together to honor the patron saint of Ireland. Only in American politics!

Happy St. Patrick's Day, and may all your bagels be green.