Sazerac

Sazerac May 2025

May 2025

Just One Thing

For Celena Amburgey, home is where the art is. “By intertwining paint, mixed media and deeply personal items like my daddy’s bed sheets, my work becomes a vessel for layered narratives,” says the creator of Blue Ridge Venus, which combines oil paint, vines, Mason jar rings, love letters from her father and a childhood bedsheet. “These intimate objects carry the weight of my heritage,” says the artist, who hails from Jefferson, N.C. Utilizing both personally precious as well as oft-discarded items such as plastic bags and grocery sacks, she says, “I craft a powerful dialogue on the tension between what is cherished and what is disregarded, drawing attention to how we assign worth and value in our lives.” Amburgey’s works, along with art by two other M.F.A. candidates, Paul Stanley Mensah and Nill Smith, will be on exhibit through May 25 at Weatherspoon Art Museum. Meet the artists on Thursday, May 8, from 5:30 until 7:30 p.m. Info: weatherspoonart.org/exhibitions/current-exhibitions.

May 25 Unsolicited Advice

If, like the rest of us, you’re trying — but struggling — to break up with your smartphone, this one’s for you. Those little buggers are full of dopamine hit after hit, lighting up our brain in a way that screams, “More, more, more!” When we find ourselves in a moment of quiet inaction, our fingers wander to that tempting touchscreen, desperate to fill the void. Well, we’ve come up with some digital-free ways to occupy those digits while taking a note from Depeche Mode: “Enjoy the Silence.”

Get hooked on something new: Learn to crochet. If you start now, you’ll have an entire collection of colorful hats to gift friends and family during the holidays.

Play solitaire. And not on an app, but with a real, tactile deck of cards. Best part? No one will ever know if you cheat — not that we’re endorsing that behavior. We just have the luck of the draw.

Try your hand at building. Scandinavians are consistently ranked among the happiest in the world and it’s probably because they’re constantly creating with Legos, which originated in Denmark, or putting together Swedish-made Ikea furniture. We certainly smile — through gritted teeth while cursing — when we assemble a Kallax shelf.

Read. As the proverb goes, “A book in the hand is worth two in your library queue.” Or something like that.

Window on the Past

Though much of Greensboro has changed over the years, the charming facade of this Irving Park Dutch Colonial, the historic R.J. Mebane House, remains very much the same since its circa 1912–13 construction. Wondering about the interiors? See for yourself as this and many other Irving Park abodes throw open their doors, welcoming guests of Preservation Greensboro’s Historic Tour of Homes, May 17 and 18. History, architecture and design come together to help you reach your step goal. What more could you want? Tickets and info: preservationgreensbo.org/events.

Must Love Books

Reading, writing and arithmetic? No, thanks on that last part of the equation. The Greensboro Bound Festival is where reading, writing and book fanatics create a buzz of all-day literary activity descending upon the cultural epicenter of downtown Greensboro.

But first, at 7 p.m. on May 15, how ’bout a little pre-fest fun with . . . (if this were an audiobook, you’d hear a drumroll right now) . . . Percival Everett, The New York Times-bestselling author of several novels, including the 2024 National Book Award for Fiction winner, James? A reimagining of Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, James is told through the eyes of the runaway, enslaved Jim. Everett is sure to draw a huge crowd, filling up UNCG’s Elliott University Center Auditorium. Registration is required — and is now waitlist only — by May 12 and can be found via the Greensboro Bound website.

Now, hold onto your pen caps and block out May 17 in your planner because this year’s one-day festival is, well, one for the books.

Dreaming up your own manuscript? Learn every trick in the book at the Greensboro Public Library. Three O.Henry magazine contributors, plus a few local notables, help you sharpen your skills — and pencils. Our founding editor, Jim Dodson, teaches “The Art of Memoir” — something he knows a little something about after writing Final Rounds, a New York Times-bestselling memoir. Maria Johnson hones your humor and Ross Howell Jr. shows you how to easily slip between fiction and nonfiction writing. Poets Ashley Lumpkin and Elly Bookman, plus Chapel Hill-based cookbook author Sheri Castle know how to measure for success.

In the Greensboro Cultural Center’s Van Dyke Performance Space, take a page from several authors in conversation. O.Henry editor Cassie Bustamante, yours truly, interviews Winston-Salem’s New York Times-bestselling author, Sarah McCoy, and Reidsville’s Sir Walter Raleigh Award winner, Valerie Nieman, about making herstory with historical fiction. Former Wall Street Journal writer Lee Hawkins, whose 2022 nonfiction book, I Am Nobody’s Slave: How Uncovering My Family’s History Set Me Free, was a Pulitzer Prize finalist, chats with Aran Shetterly, author of the harrowing account of the KKK vs. Civil-Rights demonstrators, Morningside: The 1979 Greensboro Massacre and the Struggle for an American City’s Soul. Andy Corren, whose Dirtbag Queen: A Memoir of My Mother was born out of the obituary he wrote for her that went viral, chats with Cassie. Finally, wrap up your evening with a conversation between Christopher A. Cooper, author of Anatomy of a Purple State, and spiritual writer, preacher and community cultivator Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, moderated by Raw Story investigative reporter Jordan Green.

Beyond the Greensboro History Museum’s doors, Kristie Frederick Daugherty, known for her book of Taylor Swift-inspired poetry, and UNCG M.F.A. alum Elly Bookman, plus local high school poet laureates read and discuss their modern take on the ancient art form. Known for her New York Times bestsellers Wench and Take My Hand, NAACP Image Award-winning author Dolen Perkins-Valdez chats about her latest book, Happy Land, which hit the shelves last month.

And what’s a festival without something for the littlest readers and aspiring writers? The second floor of the cultural center is chock full of children’s authors including Kamal Eugene Bell, Natasha Tarpley and Patrice Gopo.

Sage Gardener

“Wait,” says our hiking companion at the head of our group. “You’re saying that bees are not native?”

“Honey bees,” our citizen-scientist hiker responds. “It’s honey bees that are not native to the Americas. But there are hundreds of species of native bees.” (More than 500 in North Carolina alone, in fact.)

“How about honey,” the disbeliever shoots back. “Are you telling me that the honey I put on my toast in the morning is a non-native species?”

“The bees that gathered and regurgitated it are originally from Europe, brought over here to pollinate the Colonists’ crops in the 1600s,” says our apiculturist.

“Yeah, I read that the Virginia Company brought hives over when they established Jamestown,” pipes up the group’s historian. “So, yes,” says our honey bee detractor, “the honey comes from the U.S.A. — unless it’s imported from India, Argentina or Brazil, like a lot of cheap honey is.”

To say that our trail discussions are often lively is a gross understatement. At least it’s not politics this time around, I think to myself.

“I’m going to look that up,” our lead hiker says, an all too common refrain on these hikes. Moments later, Siri chirps, “Here’s an answer from gardenmyths.com: ‘The honey bee is a non-native import into North America and most other countries.”

“But honey bees pollinate our crops,” our dissenter insists. “Without them we would starve!”

Citizen scientist says, “A lot of crops are now engineered to be self-pollinating or even wind-pollinated. I’ve grown tomatoes in my living room with no bees and I still had tomatoes,” she counters. “Besides, a big hive of honey bees can outcompete native bees, sometimes the sole pollinators for certain native plants. Without that bee, the plant can go extinct.”

You can read all about it in our Raleigh sister publication, Walter (waltermagazine.com/home/the-buzz-north-carolina-coolest-native-bees) in a piece by Mike Dunn, a Chapel Hill naturalist and educator. “Our native bees are truly bee-autiful and bee-zarre,” he writes. Plus, he points out, practically no one ever gets stung by native bees.

Or dive into the N.C. State Extension Service’s The Bees of North Carolina: An Identification Guide, available online (content.ces.ncsu.edu/the-bees-of-north-carolina-identification-guide), where you can see stunning photos of wood carder bees, rotund resin bees, cuckoo leaf cutter bees, zebra cuckoo bees, along with scintillating anatomical diagrams.

A whole ’nother subject is plants that nurture and support native pollinators. In March of last year, the Greensboro City Council adopted an official policy to promote native plants and eliminate invasive plants at city-owned facilities.

“Native plants help maintain, restore and protect the health and biodiversity of local ecosystems, supporting native pollinators, birds and other wildlife,” the City proclaimed. The Guilford County Extension Master Gardener volunteers couldn’t be more enthusiastic about those plants our native bees love, sponsoring periodic workshops on them. On Saturday, August 23, from 10 a.m. until 1 p.m. (guilford.ces.ncsu.edu/2025/02/2025-great-southeast-pollinator-census), they plan a count’em-if-you-got-them session as part of the the Great Southeast Pollinator Census.

Meanwhile, detractors of honey bees — especially lovers of native wildflowers like our citizen-scientist hiker — continue to blast Apis mellifera, that European intruder to our shores. One enthusiast at ncwildflower.org/honey-bees-friend-or-foe suggests, “Do not buy honey. Kill any wild hives you encounter. And discourage the use of domesticated hives transported to pollinate crops.”

Y’all bee careful out there, now. — David Claude Bailey

Sazerac April 2025

SAZERAC

Just One Thing

Paperhand Puppet Intervention’s mission is anything but pedestrian: tell stories, beat drums, work up a sweat, push boundaries . . . and steal people’s hearts away all while making the world a better place. Through largerthan- life puppets, Paperhand transports audiences into a world where greed, hate and fear are defeated, while love of the Earth and its creatures triumphs. Combining papier-mâché, house paint, cardboard and silk, puppet-makers in their Saxapahaw studio bring to life characters mythic in scope and kaleidoscopic in hue. Two decades worth of drawings, marionettes, shadow puppets, and clay and papier-mâché characters will be on display at GreenHill Center for NC Art from Saturday, March 22 (public opening 3–5 p.m.), until Saturday, June 21. Check GreenHill’s website for music, performances and hands-on cardboard-puppet fabrication as part of its ArtQuest program, plus a series of events, including a robot-costume family night and parade (April 5), an Earth Day Celebration (April 19), an artist talk (May 14) and a workshop (June 7). Discover how you can change the world with your own two hands, just as as Paperhand Puppets have. Info: www.greenhillnc.org/of-wings-and-fe

Unsolicited Advice

Here at O.Henry, we are all about literacy. After all, our namesake is one of America’s greatest short-story writers. The month of April honors a different kind of literacy — financial. Turns out, our namesake was not so hot at that and, in fact, served five years in Texas prison on charges of embezzlement. So, while we wouldn’t recommend taking money advice from the man himself, here’s our two cents on the subject. Make a grocery list and stick to it. Unless, of course, the Tillamook ice cream is BOGO. Build an emergency fund. Also, define “emergency.” A 401K, as its name suggests, is a very long race, but, when you reach the finish line, the participation trophy is worth it. Put in the work and go the miles. Before you know it, you’ll be retiring in the lap of luxury. Invest. And we don’t mean in Beanie Babies. With the help of a financial advisor, invest in stocks. Or invest in yourself — earn more accreditations or learn new skills that bring added value to your resumé. Cancel unnecessary subscriptions. Lucky for you, there are free magazines for your entertainment. Like the one in your hands.

Tour de Plants

Whether your thumb is vivid green or you’re chlorophyll deficient, The Greensboro Council of Garden Clubs is opening the vine-covered gates on six private — though not necessarily secret — gardens. This year’s tour features the secluded beds in the neighborhoods of Irving Park, Sunset Hills and Starmount Forest. Traipse through backyard wonderlands so enchanting that they exceed Lewis Carroll’s wildest dreams and wander onto front lawns bordered by lush bushes, flowering vines and blooming bulbs galore. You’re sure to head home mulch inspired and ready to dig into your own outdoor oasis. Plus, you’ll have a chance to mingle with club members while exploring how you can become a part of their growing community, too. Plentiful fun awaits! Tickets are $25 each and, as of April 1, can be purchased at A. B. Seed, The Extra Ingredient, Fleet-Plummer, Guilford Garden Center, Plants & Answers: The Big Greenhouse, and Randy McManus Designs. The tour runs from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., May 17 and 18. Info: facebook.com/gcgcinc.

April Window on the Past

Plot twist? On April 2, 1936, a tornado ripped through the south end of Greensboro. The storm created a path of destruction 11 miles long, extensively damaging some buildings, including the former Blue Bell factory shown here. Restored to its former glory, it serves as home to Centric Brands and Transform GSO on the northwest corner of Gate City Boulevard and South Elm Street.

Our 2025 Writing Contest

When O.Henry’s team decided to put a twist on our annual writing contest, we ended up with what some will see as a twisted creative writing contest. We want you to write your own obituary — a faux-bituary, if you will. But this is no grave matter. No, this is an opportunity to dredge up the wit, humor and magic from your darkest depths. If you need inspiration, google “Idaho witch Holly Blair obituary.” Blair crafted her own whimsical memorial and it had us wishing we’d known her when she was alive. Or take, for instance, Renay Mandel Corren’s obituary, written with such love and hilarity by her son Andy Corren that it went viral, spurring him on to author Dirtbag Queen: A Memoir of My Mother, which released earlier this year. Maybe this is your own memoir in the making. Every day, we’re buried in deadlines and daily housework. Imagine, instead, just being buried — six-feet-under buried — and how you’d want to be remembered.

But first, rules.

Submit no more than 250 words in a digital format – Word or Pages document, a PDF, pasted into an email, or carved into stone and sent via photographs. More than 250 words? You’re dead to us.

One submission per person: Email entries to cassie@ohenrymag.com

Deadline to enter is July 31, 2025.

Winners will be contacted via email and their submissions will be printed in a forthcoming issue.

Lastly, life is short. Have fun with this assignment.

Sage Gardener

In one of my favorite flicks, Tim Burton’s Mars Attacks!, Jack Nicholson as POTUS makes a final appeal to the Martians who have invaded Earth, pleading, “Little people . . . why can’t we all just . . . get along?” His answer comes after he shakes hands with the take-me-to-your-leader commander of the attack, whose hand detaches and proceeds to stab the president in the back, a Martian flag popping up from his corpse.

Let’s admit it. It’s pretty obvious from the evening news that we humans don’t get along very well with one another, and in this dog-eat-dog world, things aren’t much better for man nor beast.

But plants. Those trillium, trout lilies and anemones bursting into bloom all around us, they certainly know how to get along.

Or do they?

Unless you’ve been hiding under a garden rock, one of the hottest horticultural topics in recent years has been plant communication. In an article entitled, “Plants Can Talk. Yes, Really,” Mamta Rawat, a program director at the National Science Foundation, muses, “I think we’re seeing that the complexity [of communication] is just as great with plants as it is with animals.”

And it ain’t all friendly.

Researchers have discovered that leaves can trigger defenses when they detect predators. When some roots sense problems with nutrients, water and predators, they respond accordingly. Plants even signal nearby kin telling them that the ever-dreaded aphids (or Martians) have landed.

In fact, gardeners have had a solution for this problem for centuries. It’s called companion planting. Basil disorients moths that lay tomato hornworm eggs. Aphids can’t stand garlic! Nasturtiums lure caterpillars away from your kale, cabbage and broccoli. You can read all about these and other suggested pairings at www.almanac.com/companionplanting-guide-vegetables.

Relying on the latest scientific info instead of old wives’ tales, Benedict Vanheems, longtime contributor to Kitchen Garden, Britain’s longest-running garden magazine, digs into which plants love one another and which ones wage war on the competition. Asparagus thrives with petunias and tomatoes close by. And, yes, it makes sense to plant squash so it shades the roots of corn and to plant pole beans to climb up corn stalks. Cabbage loves garlic, nasturtiums and sage as neighbors. Peas pair well with lettuce, radish and spinach. And both zucchini and summer squash love oregano, nasturtiums and zinnias. Chemicals similar to humans’ pheromones are at work in many of these cases.

But what plants don’t play well with others? Sunflowers, walnut trees and fennel are among the plants that are allopathic, meaning they release a toxic chemical from their roots to hamper the growth of certain surrounding plants. Broccoli and cauliflower are happiest at some remove from peppers and tomatoes. And onions and garlic can retard the growth of peas and beans.

Recently, researchers found that some plants even communicate through sounds that can be picked up by other plants and animals. Although I have not heard any of my plants trash talking, plant cells can emit vibrations that other plants sense, letting them know they’re getting a little too close for comfort. Chinese researchers even observed that when they broadcast sound waves of a certain frequency in a field, crop yields improved.

So maybe you ought to talk to your plant companions, but just be sure you use a soft voice and the right frequency.

2025 Department Sazerac

Sazerac March 2025

SAZERAC

Sage Gardener

I love raw onions so much I’ve devised a stratagem so that fast-food employees don’t get my hamburger order wrong. (“Extra onions” is often misconstrued as “no onions.”) So, I tell the clerk, “I’d like an onion sandwich . . . and it’s OK if you leave the hamburger on it.” Whether baked, fried, char-grilled or caramelized, onions are, as the Egyptians believed, a gift from the vegetable gods. But the Sage Gardener’s sagacity on the subject of onions does not extend much further than knowing there are two basic types, branching (or green) onions and bulb onions. And I hereby confess that I’ve never been able to grow a bulb onion any larger than a small lime, but I may have finally figured out why. Sure, some sources say growing onions is as easy as poking a hole in the dirt with your finger and dropping in a seed or a set, but a friend convinced me the seed route is not for me. After he ordered a number of enticingly named varieties such as cipollini, big daddy and red zeppelin, my permaculturistic pal nursed what few seeds germinated, misting them with water and even encouraging them with some baby talk, only to watch almost every single one of his transplants wither and die. Me? For years, I’ve been lured by the sets that pop up in garden section of big-box stores in the spring. But then I read about “long-day,” “intermediate-day” and “short-day” onions. “Long-day onions are not recommended for our area,” writes Lisa Rayburn, an agent with the N.C. Cooperative Extension Service. “Unfortunately, the onion sets sold in big-box stores are usually long-day onions and will not form properly in our area.” Duh! While onion maps show that the Northern U.S. has long days, the Tar Heel landscape is in the short-day territory or intermediate-day range. Rayburn says if you plant long-day onions in the state, “They will produce only greens or very small, if any, bulbs.” Further research, however, revealed that “recently, long-day and intermediate-day-type onion varieties have been developed that are well-adapted to North Carolina conditions.” That, according to Chris Gunter, a former prof and vegetable specialist at N.C. State. Browsing the Burpee catalog that just came in the mail, I see that they have several different varieties of sets hybridized for intermediate and short-day climates. B-I-N-G-O! Of course, all this is something I’m sure I would have learned in a Master Gardener class if I weren’t too bull-headed to take one. So this month, I’ll be poking a hole with my finger in the still frigid soil and dropping in a Georgia Queen hybridized set or a Snow White. (Warmer climes, by the way, produce sweeter onions.) And later in the summer, when I top a big, bad sizzling burger with some freshly picked butter-crunch lettuce and a fat, juicy slice of Cherokee tomato, I’ll weep from joy — and onion juice — as I slice up my first huge homegrown onion and plop a ring or two atop the stack.

Window on the Past

Since 1905, a lot has changed in the Greensboro Fire Department. For starters, we’re no longer relying on horses and steam engines. And, these days, women are wading into the smoke and putting fires out alongside men. What hasn’t changed is the epic heroism of the GFD.

Taking Flight

William Mangum, Greensboro resident and North Carolina’s artist, is accustomed to high-flying success. But, not long ago, he soared to new heights by winning an international competition to come up with the livery on the fuselage of Boom Supersonic’s Overture aircraft.

How Mangum managed to snag one of the competition’s most coveted awards over more than a thousand entries from across the globe is a tribute not only to the artist’s famous versatility, but also a prime example of how traditional art form can still fire the imagination in a highly digital world.

We recently sat down with Mangum at his downtown studio on a quiet winter afternoon to get the details.

It started, he explains, when a notice in Triad Business Journal caught his eye. It announced a competition to design the outer skin — aka the “livery” — of Boom’s forthcoming supersonic jet.

“It really excited me because as a kid I was enthralled with building model airplanes,” he says. “The problem was that submissions were due the following Monday, less than 48 hours away. After pondering the opportunity for about 30 minutes, I called my wife, Cynthia, and told her I really wanted to give it a shot, but would have to spend two nights at the studio to make the deadline.”

Mangum’s approach was to produce a painting of the aircraft and graphically transfer it to a model of the plane. “My idea was to imagine an American flag draped on the plane moving at Mach-speed, shearing it off against the fuselage.”

To accompany his submission, he included a note describing his participation in North Carolina’s aviation history, specifically his work celebrating the centenary of the Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk.

A short time later, he received the good news in an email from the sponsors.

“By dang, out of 1,100 international submissions, I won the top prize of ‘Most Original Design.’ It was incredible. Their email said they were going to take my design and put it on a working model of the project.”

He’s not sure if his imaginative rendering will grace the skin of Boom’s first supersonic jet, expected to roll out sometime in 2029, but he plans to stay in touch with the company.

“I’d love to be one of the first folks to fly in it,” he admits. “The plane will have only 80 seats, all business class, and will fly to London in just three and-a-half hours. That would be a big thrill for sure.”

In the meantime, he has a major Earth-bound commission to paint portraits of High Point University’s 41 campus buildings. That project will take flight over the next 18 months.

“I’m very excited about that, too,” he says. “It has a much easier deadline.”

Just One Thing

If you are a fan of Gossip Girl, chances are, you’ve spied a Marilyn Minter piece. Frostbite hangs in the bedroom of Blake Lively’s character, Serena van der Woodsen, honing in on a determined blue eye that dazzles with shimmering silver shadow and dewy lashes. And then there is the iconic Stepping Up, which hangs in the van der Woodsen family’s hallway and features a grime-covered ankle and heel in a sleek, rhinestone-covered stiletto. It’s no wonder that during the show’s last season, Minter created a piece entitled Gossip. Born in 1948 in Shreveport, Louisiana, Minter has worked for more than a half-century, challenging standards around sexual imagery. In this C-print, Minter plays with bokeh, and we see a blurred-out, red-lipped mouth, slightly open as if whispering. Droplets of water that look as if they’re on the camera lens seem to suggest gossip, true or not, is being broadcast. Purchased by UNCG’s Weatherspoon Art Museum with funds from the Burlington Industries Endowment and the Lynn Richardson Prickett Acquisition Endowment, Gossip is part of the current “Embodied” exhibit, curated by students in Art History 490 and running through March 29. Info: weatherspoonart.org/exhibitions/current-exhibitions.

Unsolicited Advice

Sure, we’ll take a pint o’ green beer on St. Paddy’s Day, but why stop there when you can celebrate Irish American Heritage Month all March long? We’ve got the craic to make the Emerald Isle shenanigans last. Erin go Bragh!

1. Binge Bad Sisters. Set in Dublin and filmed in Ireland, this Apple TV+ series follows the five Garvey sisters as they navigate the sudden, mysterious death of one of their husbands. If you’re into murder and mayhem, but in a pretty, pastoral setting, hit play — it’s gas.

2. Hozier, U2, The Cranberries, Ed Sheeran, Van Morrison, The Pogues. What do they all have in common? They’re on our “Irish I Was There Right Now” playlist. Make yourself one for hours of nonstop Irish-made music that’ll have you shamrockin’ a’round the clock.

3. Crank up the corned beef-and-cabbage crockpot. Irish American immigrants originally cooked up this concoction based on the homeland’s bacon-and-cabbage dish, substituting more affordable meat. While we prefer the salty, savory scent of bacon to broim — which is what this dish reeks of — we’ve got no other beef with this meal.

4 Don your wooden-soled clogs, cue up “Riverdance” and go mad yoke. Not recommended for apartment dwellers. Or anyone whose neighborhood has a noise ordinance, for that matter, because the jig will surely be up.

5. Indulge in an Oreo Shamrock McFlurry. There’s nothing particularly Irish about this, but, hey, at least it’s green. And delicious.

In the Market

I attended an event recently where half of the folks were talking about this guy, “Chad,” and his amazing spices. One lady raved about a pie she’d just made with what I found out later was his King Blossom Apple Pie blend. The very next Saturday morning, I set out in search of this suddenly illustrious spice meister.

Chad Smith sets up a booth where he peddles his Guilford Hill Spice Blends (most) Saturdays at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market downtown, where I asked about his line of seasonings. I wanted to know where the inspiration sprang from. “I couldn’t find a Cajun that didn’t have so much salt, so I decided to make my own,” he answers. After Smith created a palate-pleasing blend, he shared the results. “At first I gave my Two Step Cajun to friends and family and they all told me I should sell it. So I developed a whole collection that I’ve been selling now for five years and it’s all natural.”

The most popular seasoning is his Painted Lady Garden. “It has rosemary and basil out front, then blended with sage, thyme and oregano on the back end,” Smith says. “The idea behind all of my recipes is that you won’t taste any one ingredient at a time — everything works together for one big flavor.”

For an added boost, his Scotch Bonnet Pepper is mixed with a little bit of brown sugar and cinnamon. “As your meat cooks,” Smith explains, “that brown sugar makes a nice glaze over everything. The Fitz Roy Adobo I use for my taco meat, whether it’s chicken, pork or beef. Fantastic. We’ve been using this lately with burgers as well.”

Selling 1.9-ounce jars for $10 each, Smith named his spice line after the neighborhood he lives in, Guilford Hills. “It’s a nice community with lots of families, and families need a way to make their meals easier. Where Mom and Dad can put dinner together and it’ll be flavorful, everyone will be happy, and the blend does most of the work for you.” Plus, he notes that because his blends are salt free, customers can add salt to fit their personal taste. The first ingredient in his Green Stone Greek is tomato powder, “and you have garlic, black pepper, onion, oregano, sage, beet powder, coriander, cinnamon and nutmeg.” Delish!

Chad Smith creates these proprietary small-batch mixes in Out of the Garden Project’s shared-use kitchen, a commercial grade facility that allows local entrepreneurs to produce prepackaged food products for the marketplace in a safe and sanitary environment. “This time of year, the Chihuahua Chili Powder sales increase because it’s made with smoked, dried jalapeño,” Chad tells me. “The smoke will deliver a bold flavor to anything you cook it with — a big bowl of chili or just do some nice bean dip. The Eighteen Arms Chinese is also popular; we just did a stir fry with that the other night.”

Besides the farmers market, Guilford Hill Spice Blends can be found at the Extra Ingredient in Friendly Center and online at Guilfordhillspice.com. Get it while it’s hot.

2025 Department Sazerac

Sazerac February 2025

SAZERAC

Unsolicited Advice

This February, we’re shooing away Cupid because we are already fully committed. And before you go and shack up with someone, it might be wise to take inventory of the little habits that follow your potential mate as surely as his or her shadow. Because, no, you can’t change them — really, you can’t. The question you should be asking yourself: Can you live with them? Or without him or her? Here is a short list of deal-or-no-deal habits to consider:

1. Close talking, as in nose-to-nose. At first, it’s like, “Oh wow, they just can’t get close enough to me!” But that can escalate into “I can’t breathe.”

2. Leaving the toilet seat up — or down, depending on how you found it. Not a big deal until you get up at 3 a.m. to use the bathroom and either baptize the seat or fall into the cold basin water. Try getting back to sleep after that.

3. Talking with a mouthful of food. They’re so excited to talk to you! How sweet. Or perhaps Mama never taught them manners. Either way, bolus — aka chewed up food — upon your brow? Eeew.

4. Passing gas at the dinner table. Actually, no question about it — deal breaker. Run.

Come to think of it, we might recommend sticking with the single life.

Seen & Heard

I happened across Taja Mahaffey while she was standing behind her booth at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, surrounded by Zenith, General Electric, Westinghouse and Sylvania solid-state radios from the 1960s and earlier. As these appliances harken from an era even before stereo broadcasting, I had to ask, “Why?”

“I was in a thrift shop one day and bought a vintage radio. I just thought how neat it would be to bring it back to life,” she explains. “I found a Bluetooth speaker kit that I could insert into it, tried it and it worked.”

That was around nine months ago and Mahaffey, who resides in Summerfield but lived in Greensboro most of her life, has been scouring estate sales and flea markets ever since. She searches high and low for those vanishing examples of mid-century American ingenuity, often colorful, futuristically designed, with molded-plastic packaging.

“I’ve probably adapted 50 or more,” she says. “It just depends on when I can find what I’m looking for in good shape and at a good price.” Mahaffey, under the name Songbird Designs, also offers her groovy gadgets for sale at Main Street Market & Gallery in Randleman, where these whimsical looking Bluetooth receivers come with a USB chord for recharging.

I’m especially enamored with her idea of taking those modular clock radios your (great-) grandmother had bedside or on the kitchen counter, then reimagining them as devices tuned in to your tunes today — not to mention the convenience of a built-in timepiece for the few of us remaining who remember how to read an analog clock!

Just One Thing

What a range of age among the members gathered in the 1950s meeting of the Alpha Art Club, the Triad’s oldest-known African American women’s club. One hundred years later, the club is still going strong, celebrating their centennial with a photo exhibit at the High Point Museum, including an hour-long video of members’ sharing their time in the club. Rishaunda Moses, immediate past president, reflected recently that the club’s founding members initially “would get together to socialize, have tea, make doilies or just chat.” She went on to tell The High Point Enterprise that the club transitioned in the mid- to late-1920s to promote civic betterment. The club has persevered through the Great Depression, World War II, the Civil Rights Movement and a global pandemic and will continue moving forward with its mission: “lifting others up.” Today, that work comes in the form of supporting the NAACP, offering a mentoring program called the Legacy Foundation and providing scholarships. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

Piano Man

Musician Mark Hartman is in the air so often his Facebook persona is “Mark on a Plane.”

The New York-based pianist and composer conducts, arranges and composes for theater and concerts worldwide.

“I have to say, I love tiny airports. They make me so happy!” Hartman’s award-winning career spans both on and off-Broadway hits, and international theater as well.

When he taxis into our little PTI, however, he’s probably thinking about things he’s missed about home. Having grown up in Arcadia, between Lexington and Winston-Salem, his stomach is often rumbling at the thought of ‘cue.

Specifically, “Speedy’s in Lexington.”

Even in the air, you’ll likely see Hartman with a pencil in hand. Pencils are a talisman.

“I am oddly superstitious about pencils. If I start a musical marking in my score with a specific pencil, I will keep it and use it all the way through opening.”

To the delight of his friends — and strangers alike — he made a rare Triad appearance recently. At the invitation of the Anne Griffith Fine Art Museum at Red Oak Brewery (before stops in Saratoga, N.Y., and then to Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis), Hartman chatted to the crowd as he played from memory, hardly glancing at the keyboard. Few realized he had only recently laid his father, Wayne, to rest, who was a catalyst for his musical awakening. During childhood, Hartman “plunked around on musical toys,” including a toy piano at his grandparents’ house, where he discovered early on he could repeat melodies and songs he had heard by Elvis Presley, Nat King Cole and Helen Reddy.

As a youngster, he performed in various churches, encouraged by his minister father. By high school, Hartman was already playing for musicals and theater productions. His favorite North Davidson High School teacher, Sherri Raeford, took him to his first college theater performance (Chicago at Catawba College).

“I got into musical theater originally because it appealed to my love of music, lyrics and storytelling.” But, as his career has propelled forward, he says, “The thing I love most is connecting with another artist — in hopefully great material — to make something personal and individual and more satisfying than either of us could do on our own.”

He lists Leonard Bernstein, Fats Waller, Joni Mitchell, Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Cohen as a few of his influences. Throughout his own career he has appeared with cabaret greats such as Lorna Luft, Chita Rivera and Jennifer Holliday.

“Many things set Mark aside as a high school student,” says Raeford. “One was that he was a walking encyclopedia when it came to his knowledge of musicals and musical theater.” But for the intimate gathering of art and music lovers at a museum in Whitsett, Hartman slipped into what he loves, after weeks of coping with the loss of a parent.

Launching into a musical reverie over three hours long, teasing out 40 or more songs, he wove them together in a casual, cabaret style.

He smiles gently at the mention of Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” insisting “it is not a sad song.” In Hartman’s hands, it was reinvented, the plaintive words inexplicably transformed.

Those present received a master class in the power of music to extend beyond entertainment, to heal.

Sage Gardener

Although I don’t currently brew beer, I’ve had experience in beer making since my dad donned a yellow rain suit and a Nor’wester rain hat to uncap the bottles of home-brew that were exploding in our basement, which, by the way, sent a wonderful aroma up through our heating vents. I made beer in college when it was more exciting because it was a federal offense, using canned Blue Ribbon malt and, I shudder to think of it — bread yeast to get things going. (Let’s not bring up the subject of yeast infections some females blamed on my beer.) Later, in grad school, an English-beer-loving friend and I graduated to ordering malt extract and hops extract, both imported from the U.K. It was with the extract, which turned the beer into the equivalent of IPA, that my love affair with hops began.

Fast forward a half-century later and I’m finally contemplating planting hops in my garden this spring. The always helpful N.C. State Extension Service had a good piece stating that 80 small farms were growing hops successfully in the state. If they can do it, I decided, so can I. I’ve been wanting to grow hops since I learned the species name, Humulus lupus, meaning “small wolf,” referring to the plant’s tendency to strangle other plants as a wolf does a sheep. In other interesting tidbits, I learned that hops grow on “bines,” not vines. (A bine twists around something, and always in a clockwise direction, whereas a vine grows in tendrils, in various directions.) I was told I could expect growth of up to 12 inches a day. It went on to mention how hops will grow up almost anything, reaching heights of up to 25 feet. While sipping on a mug of Old Speckled Hen, I envisioned a tangle of hops that would give the wisteria at the back of my property some competition.

Stephanie Montell writes on the morebeer.com platform that “Growing hops at home is easy if you know the tricks of the trade.” She points out that it’s the female flower (like another plant I know) that are all-important. It seems that only the female plant is able to produce the actual hop “cones.” She went on to warn gardeners not to plant hops near electrical power lines to avoid what I’ll term kudzuification.

Loamy, well-drained soil. Check. Lots of manure. Check. One hundred and twenty frost-free days. Check. Plant in early spring, no later than May. Can’t wait and probably won’t.

Hops grow from rhizomes, which I need to mail order. N.C. State suggests which varieties will thrive most anywhere in the state. First year? Not much growth while the plant establishes its room system. “Instead, look forward to the second year when hops are full grown and produce healthy crops of fragrant flowers,” she says.

But here’s what’s going to be tough. Beginners, she says, “have a tendency of letting every shoot grow and climb. Although this is understandable, leave only selected shoots and trim the weaker ones at ground level . . . to force the strength of the root into the hardier shoots.” Whatever. My wife does something similar with our tomato plants and it drives me nuts. But a side-by-side experiment demonstrated she knew what she was talking about.

Finally I learn that all but 4% of hops are grown in the Pacific Northwest, where, I am told, one acre can produce enough dried hop cones for 135 to 800 barrels of beer. I have a quarter-acre under cultivation, so that means I need to limit my annual brewing to between 34 and 200 barrels. I can hoppily manage that.

2025 Department Sazerac

Sazerac January 2025

SAZERAC

Letters

In response to our August 2024 Unsolicited Advice regarding handwriting, Elaine Schenot penned this letter:

Window on the Past

We’re not just blowing smoke out of the stacks, the O.Henry office has moved to Revolution Mill, seen here in the late-’40s.

Sage Gardener

Visiting my daughter in Spain, standing in a market surrounded by gloriously red peppers and the ripest of tomatoes, I suddenly saw “a dirty, knobby, alien-looking root,” as one food writer describes it: Apium graveolens var. rapaceum, aka celeriac. A cousin of celery, fennel, carrots and parsnips, this bulbous, bumpy orb is my wife’s absolute favorite root vegetable, although I’ve often pointed out to her that celeriac is not a root but a hypocotyl. She counters, “Say that three times.”

The hypocotyl, according to my dictionary, is that part of the stem beneath the stalks of the leaves and directly above the root. So, on that balmy Spanish evening we had hypocotyl remoulade, a classic French dish that Anne first discovered in a Paris automat. She chose what she thought was slaw; instead, she discovered something sublime. Since then, she’s been on a long journey — completely unsuccessful — of trying to grow celeriac. “One English gardener says ‘Celeriac is easy to grow,’” I tell her.“‘Hardier and more disease-resistant than celery.’” Says Anne, “You’ll recall that we’ve never been able to grow celery.”

Over the years, she’s told everyone who’ll listen about ordering the seeds and putting them into grow pots, only to have not a single one come up. The next year, she decided our wood stove-heated house was too cold, so she invested in a grow mat; voila, that spring she coached three spindly seedlings out of the pots! Nursed like the first borns they were, one of them survived transplanting. Thus, we harvested our treasured, first celeriac, a hypocotyl feast about the size of a black walnut. The following year was no better, so nowadays Anne resignedly buys them wherever she can get them, most reliably at Super G Mart on Market.

Among the oldest of “root” vegetables, celeriac was painstakingly cultivated, not for its stalks like celery, but for that unshapely, but oh-so-tasty bulb between the stem and the squiggly, anemic roots.

References date back to Mycenean Linear B. Homer mentions “selinon” (the Greek word for celeriac) in both the Iliad and Odyssey. Romans and Egyptians prized celeriac for its medicinal benefits, and one writer suggests the root was also used in religious ceremonies, though, for the life of me, I can’t imagine how. By 1623, the French, naturellement, were eating them. Soon, Europeans all over the continent were julienning, grating and slicing them. Americans, not so much.

Nevertheless, one of Martha Stewart’s acolytes proclaims that “celeriac is having a moment,” and points out that market forecasts for 2024 suggested a 42 percent increase in sales year to year. (No hoarding, please.) She quotes various celebrity chefs enthusing over the ugly bulb, celeriac puree in particular. If you like carrots, parsnips, fennel or turnips, especially combined with a comforting and slightly earthy note, you’ll likely like celeriac. Now that we’ve transitioned from our wood stove to central air, I’m hoping my favorite gardener will get out the grow mat, hatch a plethora of wee sprouts and nurse them into transplants that will, with any luck, grow into the ugliest vegetables in our garden — and on the planet. — David Claude Bailey

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

Thank you to all who entered our 2024 O.Henry Essay Contest, with the theme, “Furry, Feathered and Ferocious.” We put out the call — of the wild — and your stories had us laughing, crying and snuggling with our own animals a little more tightly. With so many delightful entries, our task was beastly, but we’re pleased to have chosen three engaging essays that will appear in our pages throughout this year. Without further ado, your 2024 winners:

First Place: Eric Schaefer, “Harriet”
Second Place: Karen Watts, “The Mummification of Leapy the Lizard”
Third Place: Dianne Hayter, “Questers”

Thank you to all who entered our 2024 O.Henry Essay Contest, with the theme, “Furry, Feathered and Ferocious.” We put out the call — of the wild — and your stories had us laughing, crying and snuggling with our own animals a little more tightly. With so many delightful entries, our task was beastly, but we’re pleased to have chosen three engaging essays that will appear in our pages throughout this year. Without further ado, your 2024 winners:

Unsolicited Advice

A new year is a great opportunity to take stock of the many blessings in your life and let go of the things that aren’t serving you — yes, we’re talking about your refrigerator. That cranberry relish your dad brought over to pair with your Thanksgiving turkey during the Obama administration? Toss it. The high-protein yogurt you just bought to ring in 2025 as the best version of yourself ever? Keep it. At least for now, while you’re still full of hope. But those 17 jars of mustard alone? Pare ’em down. Here’s our list of the five essential mustards every house needs. The rest can go.

1. American yellow: She’s basic. Her fav shirt reads, “Go sports!” But she’s reliable and hasn’t met a hot dog she can’t improve.

2. Dijon: She rides around in limos and speaks with an elegant British accent. Her fav show is Bridgerton, but she’s also a fan of the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries that starred Colin Firth. It’s unAmerican not to use Grey Poupon, si’l vous plaît.

3. Whole grain: This one screams, “I’ve got grit,” and hangs out in your local deli with Kosher pickles. She’s too hardworking to care if there’s anything stuck in her teeth.

4. Honey: She’s sweet and tangy. When invited to a potluck dinner, she brings warm, gooey sticky buns.

5. Spicy brown: She’s the Spice Girl (Mustard Spice, duh) that was cut from the group for being too bold and standing out. Sadly, her solo career went nowhere because she’s better when mixed with others.

2025 Department Sazerac

Sazerac December

SAZERAC

(Don’t) Wait for It

Who knew that when Jimmie “JJ” Jeter’s mother took him to see a local summer production of Annie as a middle schooler, one woman’s performance would change his entire life? “The woman that played Miss Hannigan gave the performance of her life,” he recalls, almost 20 years later. Jeter, a Winston-Salem native, remembers being awestruck and overcome with a sense of knowing, “I want to do that.” The very next day, his mother reached out to the Community Theatre of Greensboro, where Jeter would become involved in various productions, even landing the lead role of Troy Bolton in High School Musical 2.

Throughout much of his off-stage high school career, Jeter performed for the North Carolina Black Repertory Company’s Teen Theatre, where then artistic director Mabel Robinson introduced him to the late Matt Bulluck, professor emeritus of drama at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts. After witnessing his chops, Bulluck suggested he audition for the school. With Robinson’s guidance, Jeter prepared a monologue and was admitted to its high school program, attending there his senior year. “I had no idea what I was doing and that program completely changed my life,” he says. Following in Bulluck’s footsteps, Jeter went on to study at Juilliard, where he graduated with a fine arts degree in acting in 2016.

Now, Jeter is returning to Greensboro, this time on the Tanger Center stage, as Aaron Burr in the Broadway sensation Hamilton. “This feels like a full-circle moment for me,” he says. “It is an honor to go, ‘My blood, sweat and tears are . . . right here in Greensboro. It’s still there, right there.”

While Jeter has played all seven male principal roles — on Broadway and in the Australian tour — he says that currently, he’s partial to the role he’s in. Jeter once heard the character’s originator, Leslie Odom, say that there are more Burrs than Hamiltons in the world. “There’s a lot that we recognize in him that we see in ourselves, the things that we don’t really talk about or bring up.” Portraying Burr every night, he says, holds him accountable. “Hey, we have to be honest about who we are, right?” Plus, Jeter adds, Burr has the best songs in the show, including his favorite: “The most gut-wrenching song to sing every night — ‘Wait for It.’”

And what’s Jeter willing to wait for? His order from his family’s Winston-Salem restaurant, Simply Sonya’s: mac-n-cheese, collard greens and his mother’s chicken with the secret family sauce. “I can taste it now,” he says, dreaming about his upcoming jaunt through the Triad with the show. “I already told my mom, ‘Go ahead and have my order ready, please!’”

After working with Hamilton in some capacity for the last eight years, the next dream is to write and act in his own show, à la Hamilton creator Lin-Manuel Miranda. Perhaps a “zombie musical. It sounds crazy, but it’s going to be so cool!” We’ll be waiting in the wings for that show to hit the Tanger Center, but for now, we’re not throwing away our shot at catching Jeter as Aaron Burr. — Cassie Bustamante

Just One Thing

We’re nuts about the entire “Life & Times of Charles M. Schulz” exhibit at Alamance Arts in Graham. Known for his entire Peanuts gang — including that blockhead Charlie Brown, plus Snoopy, Schroeder, Linus and so many more moon-faced kiddos — Schulz published the very first Peanuts comic strip on October 2, 1950, launching what would grow into a phenomenon that includes movies, books, TV specials and a theme park. Still today, Gen Z-ers are snagging merch from Peanuts collaborations with brands such as American Eagle and Pottery Barn. Just last December, Architectural Digest asked, “Will 2024 Be the Year of Snoopy Girls?” While this exhibit features a replica of Schulz’s studio, you’ll also get to see character panels with insight into their personalities. Our pick? Lucy Van Pelt. We know — you’re thinking “Good grief! That bully?” But yes. She knows what she wants — piano man Schroeder and, apparently, real estate — and she’s willing to go after it. Schulz himself said, “Lucy comes from that part of me that’s capable of saying mean and sarcastic things, which is not a good trait to have, so Lucy gives me an outlet.” And don’t we all need a creative outlet for our inner Lucy? When you’re done putting the last ornament on your very own Charlie Brown Christmas tree, hitch a ride with the Red Baron to Alamance Arts to check out this exhibit that’s fun for the whole gang through January 17. Info: alamancearts.org.

Letters

To Cynthia Adams in response to her July 2024 column, “The Dog Who Owned Us”

I just read this article by Cynthia Adams in the July issue. Admit it brought a tear to my eye.

It called to mind this short article on a similar topic I wrote not so long ago. I would appreciate it if you would share it with Cynthia so she might enjoy.
— Jon Maxwell

An excerpt from “An Ode to Our Family’s ‘BFG,’” published in the Greensboro News & Record, September 2015:

What we failed to appreciate was how much the right dog can teach us all.

From the litter, Gavin picked an energetic white/black female that was apparently the leader, and enforcer, among her siblings. It did not take long to settle upon “Bonnie” as a suitable name for this darling wee lass. When we stopped by my brother’s house for a backyard cookout, Bonnie scrambled from Gavin’s arms and bolted across the yard to my wife Caroline’s lap, where she rested contentedly for most of the afternoon. In one fell swoop, she had effectively neutralized the only potential holdout to her being welcomed into the bosom of our family.

Unsolicited Advice

When the Mayans brewed their first steaming cup of hot chocolate around 500 B.C., it’s likely they never imagined that Tom Hanks would sing a whole song about it in The Polar Express. You know the one: Hey, we got it! Hot! Hot! Say, we got it! Hot chocolate! Of course, they probably also never guessed their concoction of ground-up cocoa seeds, water, cornmeal plus chili peppers would evolved into a milky, creamy dessert-worthy treat. Wondering what to sprinkle on, aside from that sweet dollop of whipped cream or pile of marshmallow pillows melting atop your mug? Say, we got it! Hot chocolate toppers!

Chocolate’s best pairing? Sorry, Cupid, put away the strawberries and wait your turn — it’s more chocolate. Grab a high-quality dark chocolate bar and your veggie peeler to create the cutest, richest curlicues, melting into a bittersweet symphony of flavors The Verve would envy.

Feeling salty? Say seasoning’s greetings with a dash of coarse sea salt. Or indulge in a cinn-ful treat with a sprinkle of cinnamon. How about a nod to its origins by kicking it up a notch with chili powder. Alexa, play “Christmas Wrapping” by the Spice Girls.

Did your confectionary delights turn out less than delightful? Don’t toss those cookies! Crumble ‘em up and rebrand them as ganache garnishes.

Take your holiday rage out — say, we got it — by placing a candy cane in a plastic baggie and smashing it to smithereens. Sprinkle atop your hot cocoa for a chocolate and peppermint delight that’s winter’s answer to mint chocolate chip ice cream.

But our go-to? Peppermint schnapps. All the mint chocolate goodness plus a delightful buzz. Leave this treat out for Santa and you’re bound to get on the last-minute nice list. Or find Santa snoozin’ in your easy chair on Christmas morn.

Sage Gardener

Cranberries are weird. They are grown beneath layers of peat, sand and clay covered by water and are harvested by combing the floaters off the surface. As anyone who’s unearthed a bag left over from Thanksgiving knows, they are slow to go bad, so much so that sailing vessels of yore stored them in barrels on long sea voyages to stave off scurvy. When dropped, they bounce like a ball. In fact, early cranberry farmers bounced them down staircases, discarding the ones that didn’t make it to the bottom. No evidence suggests that the Pilgrims ate them at the first turkey throw down. Nobody knows where the name came from, maybe from low German kraanbere because the flower’s stamen looks like a crane beak. American Indians called them sassamenesh, which English speakers thankfully ignored. Indians used them to make pemmican, a winter staple made by mixing fat, pounded, dried meat and often dried fruit. Cranberries, by the way, grow on vines, not bushes, and belong to the same genus as blueberries, Vaccinium, derived from the Latin word for cow, vacca — maybe because cattle gobble them up. Native to North America and northern Europe, they grow wild from Nova Scotia to North Carolina. Rather tart in flavor, some people “carve” the jellied cranberry straight from the can and feature jiggling slices of it on a serving platter. NPR diva Susan Stamberg goes on and on about her mother’s cranberry relish, which includes onion and horseradish. Me? I’ll stick to my own mama’s unjiggling cranberry relish, made with bouncy fresh berries, orange segments and grated rind.
— David Claude Bailey

And the Award Goes to . . .

Earlier this year, we were honored by the N.C. Press Association with the following editorial awards:

First Place in Feature Writing:
Cynthia Adams for “Wine Not Now”

Third Place in Feature Writing:
Billy Ingram for “Greensboro’s Jeanaissance”

Third Place in Profile Feature:
Cassie Bustamante and Bert VanderVeen for “Minding Her Business”

Second Place in Lighter Columns:
Cassie Bustamante for “Chaos Theory”

Third Place in Lighter Columns:
Jim Dodson for “Simple Life”

And in the advertising sector:

First Place in both Special Sections and Real Estate Ads

Second Place in Retail Ads

Third Place in Advertising Campaigns

We’d also like to congratulate our sister publications — PineStraw, SouthPark and Walter — who each took home awards as well. And a special shoutout to the team at Walter for snagging the award for general excellence. O.Henry is proud to be part of The Pilot’s team of stellar publications and digital offerings. We look forward to bringing you more stories highlighting the “Art & Soul of Greensboro” in 2025.

2024 Department Sazerac

Sazerac November 2024

SAZERAC NOVEMBER 2024

Sage Gardener

As I’m writing this, most Americans are a lot more interested in who will be president than what sort of garden they’ll plant.

Not Marta McDowell, who penned All The Presidents’ Gardens in 2016. From George Washington to Barack Obama, she digs up the dirt, so to speak, about who had a perennial obsession with plants. George and Martha Washington, John and Abigail Adams, along with Thomas Jefferson, had gardens and ambitious plans for plants — before the British burned down the White House in 1814 (after the U.S. Army burned down what became Toronto). At the very least, presidents had vegetable gardens since expenses for family food and banquets came out of their own pockets.

James Monroe moved into a mansion under construction, inheriting a yard with the sort of mucky mess that accompanies reconstruction projects. It was John Quincy Adams, McDowell points out, who, faced with a tumultuous presidency and the death of his father, sought solace in, as he described it, “botany, the natural lighting of trees and the purpose of naturalizing exotics.”

To give you an idea of what Adams had to work with, McDowell writes, “To keep the lawns at least roughly trimmed, he arranged for mowers with scythes to cut the long grass for hay, and sometimes borrowed flocks of sheep.” Adams did have a full-time gardener to help him, John Ousley, an Irish immigrant. Following a plan that the plant-and-garden-crazed Jefferson had drafted, the duo got down and dirty. Each morning, after a brisk swim in the nearby Potomac, Adams spent several hours in his garden to “persevere in seeking health by laborious exercise.” McDowell writes, “His was a garden of celebrated variety.” In the two acres he carved out, Adams boasted that you would find “forest and fruit trees, shrubs, herbs, esculent (edible) vegetables, kitchen and medicinal herbs, hot-house plants, flowers — and weeds,” he added, revealing how honest a gardener he was. Adams also collected white oaks, chestnuts, elms and other native trees with an environmental objective: “to preserve the precious plants native to our country from the certain destruction to which they are tending.”

As the latest occupant — and gardener — moves into the White House in January, may I suggest that McDowell’s book might serve as a soothing antidote to the inevitable drama of nightly news and daily headlines.
— David Claude Bailey

That Computes

We say “data boy” to Patrick Fannes, who freely offers his time and knowledge to turning tech trash into treasure. Caching a collection of Windows- and Mac-based tablets, laptops and desktop computers (no more than seven years old), Fannes wipes them clean of all private data, refurbishing as needed before placing them in the hands of disadvantaged children. Though he holds a degree in computer science, he says, “In life I am a lay, ordained Buddhist monk and a doctor of Chinese medicine, serving my community to make this world a better and kinder place.” His friends and associates call him Shifu, the Chinese word for master or teacher, a term of respect. Through Big Brothers Big Sisters, Shifu has worked to provide 200 computers over the last 15 years. If you have an old computer collecting dust, let him give it a second life. And don’t worry — “Your private data will be erased from the computer hard drive and a binary code will be written across the entire surface of the drive nine times so that retrieving any information is impossible.” By donating your tech trash, you’ll not only make your house and the Earth cleaner; you’ll be giving a local child the necessary tools to set them up for success in life. To donate, email Fannes: onecodebreaker@gmail.com.

Booked for a Cause

In Asheville author Robert Beatty’s latest book, Sylvia Doe and the 100-Year Flood, Sylvia Doe doesn’t know where she was born or the people she came from. She doesn’t even know her real last name. When Hurricane Jessamine causes the remote mountain valley where she lives to flood, Sylvia must rescue her beloved horses. But she begins to encounter strange and wondrous things floating down the river. Glittering gemstones and wild animals that don’t belong — everything’s out of place. Then she spots an unconscious boy floating in the water. As she fights to rescue the boy — and their adventure together begins — Sylvia wonders who he is and where he came from. And why does she feel such a strong connection to this mysterious boy?

Known for his Serafina series, Beatty will be donating 100 percent of his earned royalties from Sylvia Doe and the 100-Year Flood — a story he’s been writing for several years — to the people impacted by the catastrophic floods caused by Hurricane Helene in Asheville, North Carolina where he lives. The real-life 100-year flood struck at the same time the book was scheduled to launch. (Ages 8 -12.)

2024 Department Sazerac

Sazerac

SAZERAC

Sage Gardener

Drive down any country road as fall approaches, and you are likely to see a lot more Jerusalem artichokes than you could ever eat. The golden, daisy-like flowers gloriously polkadot almost every verge in Piedmont North Carolina. And, yes, they are native, though some label them invasive, but more about that later.

My introduction to Helianthus tuberosus was at my mother’s table, where my dad heaped Braswell’s sensational, bright-yellow artichoke relish on his pinto beans as I still do. The turmeric-spiked relish probably originated in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where Mrs. Sassard’s version, like a lot of things in Charleston, “is world famous.”

Jerusalem artichokes themselves are world famous, exported as a delicacy from the New World to France in the 1600s, where they were initially hailed, like so many novelties from the New World, as “dainties fit for queens” — but likely before the queen and her court actually tried them. By 1621, one writer complained, “which way soever they be dressed and eaten, they stir and cause a filthy loathsome stinking wind . . . and are a meat more fit for swine than men.” Not surprisingly, their popularity in Europe dimmed, and it wasn’t until recently that chefs, searching for tasty and unusual local produce, rediscovered them. They were quickly dubbed a superfood because of their nutritional value and their containing — keto alert! — inulin instead of starch. (Inulin is a carb related to the sugar fructose, but is largely indigestible, making sunchokes, as some marketing guru relabeled them, a good choice for diabetics.)

Soon, upscale eateries were featuring Jerusalem artichoke orzotto graced with parsley-and-peanut pesto or truffled sunchokes with brie and honey.

If you’ve never had them, they are slightly sweet with notes of peanut, potato and water chestnut. Not, in fact, much like an artichoke, despite the name. “Jerusalem” purportedly arose when some half-witted Brit tried to pronounce the Italian word for sunflower, girasole. “They can take the form of velvety purees, soups, hearty gratins, crunch crisps (French fries), stew fillings, creamy mash and even ice cream!” enthused one gourmet.

They are so prolific that Master Gardeners issue warnings. Like crabgrass — and every bit as aggressive — they spread underground by rhizomes. I’ve seen them take over not one but several adjacent raised beds in a community garden. One gardener reported transplanting two plants and ending up with 70 pounds. With each plant producing as many as 20 tubers, “as potatoes were requisitioned for World War II,” one writer says, “Jerusalem artichokes saved millions from starvation,” providing food for humans and livestock.

Harvested from October to March, they are available from time to time in farmers markets and grocery stores. Worried about the gastric distress? Through the miracles of modern science, some home economics scientist discovered that cooking them with lemon juice transforms them through something called acid hydrolysis, rendering them gone with the wind.

Just One Thing

“A camera lies,” says Greensboro artist James Celano, who graduated from the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts more than 40 years ago. Known for his oil paintings of still life, figures and landscapes, Celano says he prefers to paint from life and can tell when an artist is working from a camera image. There are giveaways, he says, such as an exaggerated foreground that disrupts the scale. But the biggest reason he avoids it? “I find that work very flat emotionally.” A born-and-raised northerner, Celano and his wife, Diane, made the Gate City home over 30 years ago, bringing with them their toddler son and their own textile design business, Diane Celano Studios, which serviced clients such as Burlington Industries. “That’s how we paid the bills and kept me independent and free from having to depend on galleries.” Celano converted their home’s two-car garage into a studio space. It’s there that he sets up objects and paints his still life oils. Dollface, seen here, is part of a birds-eye view series and will be part of an exhibition at Ambleside Gallery. “It’s been about 15 years since I’ve exhibited in Greensboro,” says Celano. While he’s participated in GreenHill’s Winter Show, this is his first solo exhibition here in a long time. He’s gathered 26 new paintings, most of them still life, that will be on display from October 4–31, with an opening reception from 6–9 p.m. on October 4.

Window to the Past

Feeling witch-crafty? Go homemade with your Halloween costume this year. Give it a whirl — just as these Grimsley Whirlies once did back in 1949.

Water Color Talk

If you’ve walked into The Art Gallery (TAG) at Congdon Yards in High Point recently, you may have already spied the Watercolor Society of North Carolina Exhibition, a juried show featuring 69 paintings created by its members. On September 29 — ahem, before we went to press — the best in show was selected by this year’s juror, renowned watercolor artist Lana Privitera. Originally from Spain, Privitera is a signature member of both the National and American Watercolor Societies. Since we couldn’t yet share the show’s winner, we’re showing off what this judge is capable of. Some Cups and Polka Dots is not a photograph. Despite what your eyes may tell you, it’s a watercolor on paper. Frankly, her painting of dishware looks more realistic than the photos our iPhone 13 snaps — obviously a result of considerable talent combined with epic patience. It “went through many stages and many weeks of work before I felt that the composition and the balance of colors, values and texture were cohesive and interesting,” she reflects. Plus, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work before the paintbrush tip ever hits the paper. “Coming up with a unique composition and theme that might also appeal to other people is not easy,” says Privitera, “so the planning stage of any of my watercolors often takes more time than applying the many layers of paint themselves.” So, what was Privitera looking for in a winner? Someone who, like her, “takes their time creating unique and well-balanced compositions.” As for her selection, you’ll just have to head over to TAG to see the piece she thought brushed with greatness. The exhibit ends Oct. 31. Info: tagart.org/exhibits/watercolor-society-of-north-carolina-exhibition.

Unsolicited Advice

With the holidays just a couple months away, and the cooler, shorter days creeping in, October is the ideal time to begin a new crafty hobby — one that results in homemade gifts for everyone on your gift-giving list.

Cross Stitch: Start with the basic “X” and grow from there. Soon, you’ll be whipping out adorable pieces with charming sayings like our personal fav: “What doesn’t kill you gives you a set of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a dark sense of humor.” Bonus, you can tell your dentist you do, in fact, floss every day.

Canning: How about them apples? Turn ‘em into jam, jelly or applesauce. FYI, stock up. Because no matter what Baby Boom had you believe, 2,537 apples = 3 jars of applesauce (approximately). Apples not your jam? Try pickled beets or pumpkin butter. Yes, you can.

Candle Making: Hit up your local thrift shops for unique vintage glass vessels. Fill ‘em with soy wax and your own custom scent. Hints of bourbon, leather and cuban cigar? We call that one “Grandpa’s recliner.”

Witchcraft: Heck, it is October, after all.

2024 Department Sazerac

Sazerac

SAZERAC

Sage Gardener

My introduction to kimchi was via M*A*S*H, when Frank Burns boasts about catching some Korean peasants burying a land mine — which turns out to be a vat of kimchi. Upon excavation, Hawkeye takes his own dig at Burns, saying “You’ve struck coleslaw!”

Actually, it’s rather surprising that the usually wellinformed M*A*S*H writers should mention slaw. Fermented and aged (traditionally underground to control the temperature) for a month or more, kimchi doesn’t vaguely resemble coleslaw. Think of a nostril-bending flavor bomb made with fermented cabbage, spiked with chilies, ginger and garlic.

My next encounter with kimchi was on the end of a fork in Cocoa, Florida, where I was writing about the space shuttle’s efforts to escape Earth’s gravity. An editor who had hitchhiked across Asia served it with warm sake one night — love at first bite. I was soon fermenting my own, filling the house with a thick aroma. Another reporter and I would get up at daybreak and catch a mess of mullet, which my wife, Anne, would fry and serve with grits and kimchi. The reporter and I still say it’s the best breakfast we ever had.

Since pickling vegetables is an ideal method of extending their lifespan, kimchi making in Korea dates back to well before the Christian Era. But forget the chilies. Chili peppers, native to the Americas, didn’t make it to Korea until the 1600s.

Most of the kimchi available in America is made from Napa cabbage and scallions, sometimes with added fish sauce. Authentic Korean kimchi often contains salted shrimp or croaker — or other finny prey, including anchovies and salted cod gills.

I’ve found that kimchi tends to appeal to people who relish the strongest of flavors. A friend who obsessively made beer for a while, transitioned to kimchi, observing that he became “fascinated by the alchemy of salt turning bland vegetables into hot, sour yumminess.” Plus, he hoped it “would nurture my gut and cure what age and various vices had inflicted on me.” Like other fermented foods, kimchi’s teeming bacteria is purportedly good for your intestinal microbiome. But people eat kimchi because they love how it triggers endorphins, generally appealing to the same people who fall in love with tonguenumbing hot sauces, hopcrazy IPA’s, mind-bending mescals and peaty, smoky Isla scotch.

Making kimchi is as easy as making sauerkraut and there are a plethora of recipes on the internet. As the days grow colder, consider starting a batch, especially if you have cabbage in your garden. There’s something magical about having a batch of kimchi bubbling away in a dark room, getting a little more sour with each passing day, a little hotter and a little more redolent. Get started now and it will make a great gift under the tree — festively green and red — and mask that annoying evergreen scent.

— David Claude Bailey

Letters

To Cassie Bustamante in response to her June 2024 column, “Curb Alert”

As I sit here in my yard chair relaxing after a morning of delayed yard work, I am enjoying the June edition of O.Henry magazine.

Your article brings back memories. Christmas 2003, my son received his first car as a present. It was a 1998 Jeep Cherokee.

The thought being, it would help in having another driver, helping with errands, stopping his mother and I being his chauffeur. Wrong!

However, that’s not the story at hand.

I remember that Christmas Day going out for a drive with my son Nick at the helm. He decided that a ride on the highway I-40 would be a good idea to test out his new ride.

I have never been so scared sh&$less in my entire life. All I could do was pray and hope to get home in one piece.

Finally he pulled into the driveway and, forgetting to put the Jeep in park, he hit the rear bumper of my wife’s Mercury.

We did have a happy ending though. The Mercury was a tank, no visible damage to either vehicle.

Reading your article brought back this now humorous incident to mind.

Our kids, no matter what they do, leave us with memories. Hopefully, good ones.

— David Ruden

The Passed Baton

“You Should Be Dancing,” the Greensboro Symphony Orchestra has decided — and with a new Aussie conductor as your dance master. Christopher Dragon will take the baton on September 14 to lead the symphony in a POPS Concert featuring The Australian Bee Gees Show, a tribute to the legendary group, at the Tanger Center. Bellbottoms optional.

During its last season, dubbed “Season of the Seven,” seven candidates auditioned — each having an opportunity to lead the symphony. Dragon won out. Hailing from Perth, Australia, Christopher Dragon began his career in his home country with the West Australia Symphony Orchestra. Since then, he’s led the Colorado Symphony as well as the Wyoming Symphony, and worked with orchestras the world over. Plus, not to name drop — but, just for you music aficionados, we’re going to — he’s collaborated with the likes of Cynthia Erivo, Joshua Bell, the Wu-Tang Clan and Cypress Hill. And he’s stoked to bring his flair to the Gate City while creating “unforgettable symphonic experiences to inspire the next generation of music lovers.”

But wait — there’s more! While there can only be one conductor on the podium at a time, sometimes there’s room for two at the top. Chelsea Tipton, fellow “Season of the Seven” candidate, has been named principal guest conductor. A native of Greensboro, Tipton currently serves as music director of the Symphony of Southeast Texas and principal pops conductor of the New Haven Symphony Orchestra. “Returning to my hometown in this capacity is a dream come true,” he says.

Unsolicited Advice

Did you know that September is National Italian Cheese Month? Grate-est news ever grazie! We support any observance that involves feasting on that melt-in-your-mouth (or on your sandwich) delight, any way you slice it. But preferably with carbs and wine, per favore. Stock up on Lactaid and get ready to dazzle your palate with some of our magnifico varieties!

Gorgonzola: Sounds like an evil character from a 1980s cartoon featuring little blue creatures, but is actually the Italian answer to blue — or, shall we say bleu — cheese. Crumbles easily, just like us.

Mozzarella: Quite possibly the most popular pizza topping due to its meltability. Frankly, we’d eat it as a topper to the cardboard circle frozen pizza comes on in its ooey-gooeiest state. By the way, mozzarella is not related to Cinderella, who is actually French.

Parmigiano-Reggiano: Two first names? Must be from Southern Italy.

Mascarpone: Any cheese that can masca-rade as dessert is a winner in our books. If pizza pie isn’t your thing, how ‘bout a pumpkin-mascarpone pie?

Ricotta: Rick oughta make us his famous lasagne soon. And tell him to use the good stuff — none of that cottage cheese.

Provolone: Between two slices of crusty Italian bread slathered with butter, this one makes a delicious and simple grilled cheese. Ready, set, ciao!

2024 Department Sazerac

SAZERAC August 2024

SAZERAC AUGUST 2024

Sage Gardener

After reading The Orchid Thief (which I unreservedly recommend), I’ve started calling Anne, my wife, the Seed Thief. Her cache of stolen — and also saved-from-the-garden — seeds is vast. One day, she said, “Why don’t you write about saving seeds, O Sage Gardener.”

So . . . here’s why I’m NOT writing a column about saving seeds.

Let’s start with this response from an online permaculture forum: “Why do something poorly, when I could instead support someone who does an amazing job at seed saving/plant breeding?” The permaculture curmudgeon adds, “In my region, there is no shortage of amazing small farmers selling open-pollinated, regionally-adapted, unique varieties.”

Guilford County’s annual Passalong Plant Sale comes to mind. And there’s also the annual Sown and Grown Seed Swap Weekend at Old Salem, which has featured heirloom dinners in the past.

But let’s get down to the nitty-gritty topic of plant sex. Whether plants have sex with themselves or with insects is a topic that’s way above my pay grade. However, the N.C. State Extension Service has an army of plant experts who understand the mysteries of the birds-and-bees that produce the next generation of plants. “When saving seeds, make sure you are collecting from open-pollinated varieties,” advises Emilee Morrison from Onslow County. (More about open-pollinators in a minute.) “Because of their diverse parentage, hybrid plants will not produce consistent, reliable offspring when you save their seeds.”

Dusty Hancock, a Master Gardener volunteer from Chatham County, has even more discouraging words about plants with diverse parentage: “Seeds from hybrid plants may be sterile, but, if not, it is difficult to predict the characters of the resulting offspring.” He goes on to say that plants from hybrid seeds will be a new combination of the best and worst traits of the original parents. In other words, the seeds you save from that extraordinary okra plant with boocoodles of perfect pods might have the characteristics of a parent that, though drought resistant, produced itty-bitty pods.

So . . . if you really want to play it safe, you need to make sure that the seeds you’re saving come from heirloom plants, all of which are so-called open pollinators, meaning they are pollinated naturally by birds, insects, wind or human hands.

So far, so good — but there’s a catch, says Emilee: “If you grow more than one variety of a crop, you will need to take some precautions to prevent cross-pollination between varieties. Cross-pollination will result in unexpected characteristics in your plants in subsequent generations.” I’m not about to venture into the area of scraping the seeds out, drying them on a screen or in a hydrator, storing them so bugs and humidity don’t ruin them . . . because I’m not going to write about saving seeds. And, from the permaculture curmudgeon, here’s a compelling reason: “I just really, really love buying seeds. Maybe it’s materialistic of me, but pouring through catalogues is what gets me through the winter!”

— David Claude Bailey

Window to the Past

“Then it was that books began to happen to me, and I began to believe in nothing but books and the wonderful world in books — where if people suffered, they suffered in beautiful language, not in monosyllables as we did in Kansas.” — Langston Hughes, The Big Sea

Unsolicited Advice

Soon enough, we’ll see the flashing lights and hear the squeaking brakes of big, yellow buses as they roll through our neighborhoods. Kids will be going full-STEAM ahead — as in Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, Math — as they head back to school.

But, now that we are grown adults, according to our driver’s licenses, we have some ideas about necessary school subjects.

Phone Basics: More Than a Texting Device. We know, we know. Your smartphone features a handy-dandy voice mailbox that allows you to avoid calls, and, instead, listen to messages and respond via text, safely steering clear from any potentially empathetic human contact whatsoever. But — this may come as a shock — you can actually answer your phone. Repeat after us: “Hello?”

Taxes and You: Sam Is Not the Fun Uncle. Pythagoras’ theorem about right triangles is really a-cute, but Uncle Ben Franklin once observed that nothing is certain other than death and taxes. So why not study deductions and learn how to properly fill out W9s? Had we done that, we would’t be left feeling so, well, obtuse.

Handwriting: The Wet Signature & the Curse of the Cursive. In our modern, digital world, penmanship doesn’t seem so important. And frankly, we’re coming up dry on a good reason why you might need it. But hey, we’re an arts publication and we don’t want to see any form of art lost. Don’t agree? Please mail a handwritten letter to the editor.

Just One Thing

Go ahead. Try not to be drawn into this photograph, taken in 1913 to herald the screening of a silent movie starring Smilin’ Cowboy Louis Bennison as Randy Burke — smiling even when held at gunpoint by Virginia Lee, as seen in the poster. Is that her or a local look-alike posing none too enthusiastically for a promotion in Newport, Rhode Island? Who are those children on the right, one impudently staring at the photographer, Marshall Hall, an AP correspondent?

When artfully reprinting the photo in 1970, Brian Pelletier obviously was unwilling to crop out the bystander heedlessly walking right into the photo just as the shutter closed. Featured in Weatherspoon’s exhibit that goes up on Aug. 13, “Interpreting America: Photographs from the Collection,” the images on display “illustrate what artists have had to say about American culture from the late-19th to the early-21st centuries.” Americans have always loved sappy Westerns, like this one in which our brave hero saves an orphan after her father is killed in a saloon, is mistaken for a desperado, wins enough money in a poker game to pay off the Widow Mackey’s mortgage, and falls head over heels for a rancher’s daughter, who “takes his revolvers and orders him to put his hands up — and then around her.”

The Write Stuff

When Andrew Levitt set out to brighten children’s spirits in their hospital rooms, he wasn’t just clowning around. In our December 2022 issue’s “The Fezziwigs Among Us,” founding editor Jim Dodson introduced us to Levitt, whose “charming medical clowning lasted almost a decade, touching the lives and cheering up thousands of kids, young people, parents and staff.” Levitt, who had a lifetime of performance under his belt — everything from miming to acting and clowning — officially became Dr. Merryandrew on April Fools’ Day years ago. The date? A funny coincidence. And, yes, Levitt does, indeed, hold a bona fide University of Pennsylvania Ph.D. — in folklore, fittingly. In his new memoir, With Tales and Folly Instead of Pills, Levitt takes us behind the doors of Moses Cone Hospital, sharing stories he regaled patients with to bring, well, levity to hardship. After all, he writes, “Maybe if more people hear the old stories, there will be more people around who know that life is full of magic and miracle.”

2024 Department Sazerac

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SAZERAC

May 2025

Just One Thing

May 25 Unsolicited Advice

Window on the Past

Must Love Books

Sage Gardener

SAZERAC

Just One Thing

Unsolicited Advice

Tour de Plants

April Window on the Past

Our 2025 Writing Contest

Sage Gardener

SAZERAC

Sage Gardener

Window on the Past

Taking Flight

Just One Thing

Unsolicited Advice

In the Market

SAZERAC

Unsolicited Advice

Seen & Heard

Just One Thing

Piano Man

Sage Gardener

SAZERAC

Letters

Window on the Past

Sage Gardener

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

Unsolicited Advice

SAZERAC

(Don’t) Wait for It

Just One Thing

Letters

Unsolicited Advice

Sage Gardener

And the Award Goes to . . .

SAZERAC NOVEMBER 2024

Sage Gardener

That Computes

Booked for a Cause

SAZERAC

Sage Gardener

Just One Thing

Window to the Past

Water Color Talk

Unsolicited Advice

SAZERAC

Sage Gardener

Letters

The Passed Baton

Unsolicited Advice

SAZERAC AUGUST 2024

Sage Gardener

Window to the Past

Unsolicited Advice

Just One Thing

The Write Stuff