Archive for the ‘Recipes’ Category
Friday, December 30th, 2011
Do you remember when Zsa Zsa slapped a policeman in Beverly Hills? It made all the papers. Made the nightly news. People might have assumed she was just a hot head. I have news for those people. He deserved it. Big time. If he’s the guy I’m thinking of, and I’m pretty sure he is.
The cop sported a mustache that was so retro in style, yet not hip in the least. For that ugly mustache alone he deserved that slap. He was a cowboy on his motorcycle moving in and out of the traffic without awareness of other drivers. He also spun around on his horse, I mean, motorcycle, on some mornings to give my handicapped father shit about being dropped off in front of his favorite deli. My father knew this routine well. He would ask whoever was driving him to drop him off directly in front of places to make it the easiest on himself for a quick entry. Or, as he called it: “a straight-in job.” And sure, he was double-parked, but there was another lane and rarely any traffic at that time of day. My dad would be threatened with a ticket but he would just keep moving and yelling at the cop. And the next day, it would start all over again. (more…)
Tags: Beverly Hills, Beverly Hills cop, fredde duke, Freddie Duke, Freddy Duke, Geary's North, Maurice Duke, Nate n' Als deli, pink Datsun
Posted in Recipes | 9 Comments »
Tuesday, December 20th, 2011
I was never walked into a temple. Never. Not by my dad, the Jew. I thought being Jewish meant eating lox, bagel & cream cheese in a deli. Because that’s what my dad, the non-religious Jew told me. When we ate at Nate n’ Al’s, he would announce loudly as he seemed to be pointing to the food, “We’re Jews!!!”
I sang with my friend Cindy Lou Carlson in her church for the Christmas pageant. Those rehearsals alone put me in a church more times than I was ever in a temple — at least until my kids and step-kids became B’nai Mitzvah.
I’m assuming my mom was some sort of Christian, but your guess is as good as mine. She never walked us into a church and never spoke of any religion. So, there you go, two parents – one gentile, one Jewish — who offered zero religious guidance. We called ourselves half-and-half. This was pretty commonplace in Beverly Hills, though each family would often choose a side and go to temple or church. Christmas or Chanukah.
We celebrated Christmas, tree and all. Show business was up and down and some years we had big-time gifts. The trees were bigger in those years. At other times we might have skimpy trees with few gifts.
One year, I scored. We all scored. My dad had a friend who had a TV show and he finagled a bunch of freebie popular toys of the day for us. I coveted Patty Play Pal. She’s all I ever wanted. I wonder if there were Chatty Cathy people and Patty Play Pal people. I just dug how big that doll seemed. I was little, so for me she was huge. That year, my mother got her new hi-fi and played it continuously Christmas day. Holiday paper and ribbon were strewn about as Bobby Darin belted “Mack the Knife.” And I got my big-ass doll — a new friend in my wonderful fantasy-filled life. My brother got shit he wanted. We had pogo sticks and stilts. We were a very happy family with a house filled-to-the-brim with every hot toy and gadget.
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
(more…)
Tags: Alan Duke, augie duke, Chanukah for gentiles, Christmas in Beverly Hills, Evelyn Duke, fredde duke, Freddie Duke, Freddy Duke, Maurice Duke, Patty Play pal doll, recipe for play dough, Rutenbergs
Posted in Recipes | 11 Comments »
Friday, December 9th, 2011
Xmas in Palm Springs is like an oxymoron. The palm trees sway, the sun shines bright and it’s often hot and balmy. It’s where Beverly Hills families often went. Where some were lucky enough to have vacation/weekend homes.
We were lucky to “know” someone. My dad was always up for a freebie and one winter vacation we borrowed his friend Alan Freed’s house. Alan, the New York disc jockey known as “the father of rock & roll,” had in fact coined the phrase “rock and roll.” Poor Alan Freed. Sometimes when we were there to visit him and not on our own, I would make him sit and listen while I auditioned for him, singing the hit Allan Sherman camp song, “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh (Here I am at Camp Granada).” I was convinced I had a great voice, but in truth could not have been more off-key.
Hello Mudder Hello Fadder
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
The Fishell family lived a few blocks away because they were one of the lucky ones who owned their own home in the desert. The Fishell girls were very grown up and popular. All the boys gravitated to them. My dad was a friend of their dad Dick, an older father like my own, with a hot, younger wife, also like mine. To be honest, my parents had been divorced for years, but we went everywhere together as a family. Very modern, way ahead of their time. Maybe no one even realized they were divorced.
The twins, Jeannie and Jackie Fishell were a year younger than me, in fifth grade, and Robin was my age and also in sixth. Every day we hung out as a large group of pre-teens. Robin was probably too mature for me so I hung out more with Jeannie and Jackie. At night we had spin the bottle parties with lots of boys who remember our peck of a kiss to this day. Like John Sofro who would later marry one of my BFF’s — Barbara Dudley. (more…)
Tags: Alan Freed, augie duke, Christmas in Palm Springs, Cody Clark, Dick and Mina Fishell, Evelyn Duke, fredde duke, Freddie Duke, Freddy Duke, matzo brei recipe, Maurice Duke, Palm Springs, sex talk, The birds and the bees, the Fishell twins
Posted in Recipes | 19 Comments »
Sunday, November 27th, 2011
Graffiti in my house today!!!!!
I was WAY ahead of my time. I liked graffiti. As a teenager, I invited all my friends to draw or write all over the wall in my bedroom. And I, in turn, often wrote on bathroom walls. I am not condoning it — and should be embarrassed by it — but at the time I even boldly signed my name to the thought or poem or whatever I had written. Sometimes at school, which is just crazy if you think about it. I would write something silly like, Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, so FUCK YOU!!!!!! (A regular Emily Dickinson.) And then my signature: “By Fredde Duke.” First and last name. Didn’t want anyone else getting credit. Not that there were many other Fredde’s using the girl’s bathroom.
One day, I get a note sent into the classroom for me. It was from Mrs. Friedman, the dreaded Girls Vice Principal. Uh oh, I thought, better come up with something about why there is so much graffiti around with my name attached. I slowly walked the long halls, head down, trying hard to devise a believable excuse. But somehow I was still cocky and sure-of-myself that I could pull off getting out of trouble. There was no denying the truth. If anyone took a trip to my house on Roxbury, there it would be in big black crayon (not spray paint) — the same raunchy, unoriginal, Roses are Red poem; the one that my mother would not clean off or paint over long after I moved out — and in fact, would leave there for potential buyers to see during the sale of the house.
I’ve yet to come up with a great lie when I head into the Girls Vice Principal’s office. And already seated there is a group of really beautiful girls from my grade. It was like a dream and suddenly you are somewhere else and you’re not sure how or why the dream just changed location or people. I’m still in my head, working out that excuse and not registering what is going on. That’s when Erica Farber’s face comes into focus. We called her Ricky, and she was the faintly elusive, always gorgeous, every-Jewish-boy’s shiksa dream. I also see my friend Janet Rasak, to me the most beautiful girl; exotic, Lebanese, smart, and extra sure of herself, but never stuck-up about any of her assets. And Betty Hakimoglu, so cute, unique, Turkish. I’m in a room with all these beauties when we are told that we are the ones that are up for Princess and Queen, the ultimate prize in popularity and grandness at Beverly Hills High School. Only the greatest of beauties have reigned before. So, I’m thinking, why am I in this group? This must be a prank or some clerical error. But NO, I’m informed that there were SO many votes for me that I will be up for both Princess AND Queen. What the fuck? They say this doesn’t usually happen. I’m scratching my head and mostly relieved that I’m not going to prison for defacing public property. Instead of jailbird, I might be Homecoming Queen. (more…)
Tags: augie duke, Basil Lemonade recipe, Beverly Hills high school Queen and Princess, Erica Farber, fredde duke, Freddie Duke, Freddy Duke, Graffiti in 70's, Graffiti in homes, hippie clothes in the 70's, Homecoming Queen, janet rasak, Like Mother-Like Daughter, Ricky Farber
Posted in Recipes | 8 Comments »
Wednesday, November 16th, 2011
Dino, Desi & Billy were the Hansen or Justin Bieber of our day. It was the mid-to-late 60’s and the Beatles had hit the States and our hearts. But of course there was room to love other boys. And D, D & B were our homeboys. They were in our orbit; lived on our blocks, frequented the same restaurants. AND, they were CUTE!!!!! Oh, my God, they were — in Paris Hilton’s word — HOT!!!!!!!
About a year into Beatlemania, Dino, Desi & Billy formed their band. They became teenage heartthrobs across the country and were featured in all the popular teen magazines.
At about the time D, D & B were famous, Billy played on my brother Alan’s baseball team. Pony League games. I will never forget them … because they were long fuckin days for a bored little sister. Sitting in those bleachers was tedious. But there were some really cute boys on those teams, like Billy (Alan Harris and Steve Fine). My dad and Billy’s dad became friends in those bleachers. Both were older dads. They seemed to have a lot in common and we were invited to dinner at the Hinsches’. My dad formed his own friendships with Dino, Desi & Billy, and his whole life called Dean, “little Dean” and Desi, “little Desi” to distinguish them from their fathers – Dean Martin and Desi Arnaz.
Just as our dads formed a lifelong friendship, so did Billy and I. When I remarried , my brother Alan and his wife Kris threw us a small wedding party. Billy had been in the Beach Boys for years, so I asked him to give me a special present and sing “God Only Knows.” When he did there was not a dry eye in the house.
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
(more…)
Tags: Alan Duke, baseball in 60's, Beverly Hills Pony League 60's, Billy Hinsche, Dean Paul Martin, Desi Arnaz Jr., Dino Martin, fredde duke, Freddy Duke, greatest brownie recipe, lifelong friendships, Lumpia recipe, phony phone calls, photo by Wayne Williams, the Dean Martin show
Posted in Recipes | 20 Comments »
Wednesday, November 9th, 2011
Barnaby,
The day you were born seemed, at first, like any ordinary day. I dropped my car off for service then stopped to pick up a few gifts for the brother and sister you would soon meet. Then, it was off to St. Johns for a three-in-the-afternoon scheduled C-section. Thinking of it now, it sounds so strong and brave and unlike me. But on that day, I was prepared and matter-of-fact about it all.
Just nine days before, on Halloween, I wore my pants low and a shirt cropped high to show off my hugely pregnant stomach. It was your first costume. I drew eyes and a mouth; my big belly button was your nose. We caused quite a stir as I told random kids who stared that they too could get their stomach as big by connecting a bicycle pump to their belly button. We were so unforgettable that night, that people still remind me how outrageous it was.
pregnant with Barnaby
Within hours of arriving at the hospital, there you were!!!! And, you were a boy, not a girl or you would be named Holiday, after a childhood cat. You dodged that bullet.
Barnaby. With your great new name and a red dot on your forehead. I asked the doctor about the dot, it sort of concerned me. He gave some sure-of-himself answer saying it would go away in the next few weeks. Well, I grew to adore that red dot that never disappeared, distinguishing you in childhood photos from your brother.
You rocked your name. Always announcing loudly and proudly when asked, “Barnaby, like Barnaby Jones,” to new teachers or coaches. It always got a big laugh if they were old enough to understand the reference. Thank you, by the way, for being so mainstream as to play sports at all. We didn’t understand it, since your older brother was an artist and not the athletic type. We made jokes that you were really from the Winter family, our close family friends whose boys played competitive sports. (more…)
Tags: acting, Barnaby Kupper, Billy McAdams, drummers, fredde duke, Freddie Duke, Freddy Duke, jerk dancing, Pupusa recipe, Rob Minkoff
Posted in Recipes | 8 Comments »
Tuesday, October 18th, 2011
me, Tracy, on location in Texas
I went to bat for my friend Tracy. She wanted the starring role in a movie my dad was producing, but it was really his friend Bob who was the money guy and director. If it were just my dad, it would have been a slam-dunk. So, I went to work on Bob. I pitched him for months, relentlessly. That’s me when I want or need to be – a dog with a bone. “Have you seen Tracy in Christopher Guest’s new movie?” I asked. “She’s brilliant.” Or: “Check out her credits, you’d be lucky to get her.” And: “Bob, let her audition, you won’t be sorry.” Finally, when I had exhausted all other angles, I went for the Boys Club Secret Society as a last try: “Your lead actor has always wanted to fuck her.” Yep, that did it. The part was hers.
(more…)
Tags: actress friends, fredde duke, Freddy Duke, great asparagus recipe, Leeza Gibbons, making movies, Maurice Duke producer, on location in Texas, Tracy Brooks Swope
Posted in Recipes | 2 Comments »
Sunday, July 31st, 2011
I was born with one lung not working and was promptly whisked away to an incubator. Age two, I got scarlet fever and my parents worried I might not survive. Age three I was fully cross-eyed. But I did not (as yet) have an inferiority complex. I was very happy-go-lucky. Chatting it up all the time with my imaginary friends and all.
Oprah tells this story about herself, a lot. A random woman walked up to her in church one day and commented on her bee-stung lips. She had paid her a compliment on her beauty that was long overdue. Until then, no one had noticed any beauty in Oprah and it meant so much to her that she found the woman, this white woman, many years later and thanked her.
During my cross-eyed period, when I was old enough to be cognizant, people, random people on the street, would turn their heads to look at my brother Alan. He was adorable. They might even comment on his fetching looks, then look back at me and not say a word. Not a word. It would kill me; my fragile little ego, so wounded by a random stranger. And I would wait until I got home to cry from the sting of not being noticed as beautiful.
My mother would look me in the eyes, those crossed eyes with their hideous glasses, and say, “By the time you are 16,” yes, she nailed the number down — not 15, not 18, but at 16 “you will be prettier than them all.” Uh huh. I thought that the crystal ball she was looking into was on crack (and there wasn’t even crack yet). Or perhaps, it was gazing into the far distant future and seeing my drop-dead, gorgeous daughter Augie.
my gorgeous daughter Augie!!!!
(more…)
Tags: Beverly High, chocolate bar/cookie, Clairol commercial 70's, coconut, debi fries, Debi Genson, Erik Gibson, Eveylyn Duke, Freddie Duke, Freddy Duke, Home Economics class, Ryan O'Neal
Posted in Recipes | 20 Comments »
Friday, July 15th, 2011
When I have a party, I try to invite everyone. I really do. And if my best friend has another best friend, I invite the other best friend. I include the world. If I happen to run in to you (random person reading this) a week before said party, I will invite you even if we’re not the best of friends. I even like it when people crash my parties or when someone calls me and says boldly “Do you mind? I hear you’re having a party and I’d really like to go.” What I LOVE about that is that the person who makes that kind of call, does know me. They know, I’m so happy to include everyone.
I believe I got this from my mother who would say, “You have to invite the whole class, not just some.” Or my dad, who carried his entourage around with him, leaving no one out. Both my parents never let anyone’s feelings get hurt.
One day, in maybe the 5th or 6th grade, a girl named Debby had a party and it seemed like she invited just about everyone. Except me. And maybe the worst part was that she included my best friend Susie. It felt like a real slight. On that particular weekend of Debby’s party, I remember feeling very alone on Saturday night. Susie and I were pretty inseparable. (more…)
Tags: being snubbed, Beverly Vista school, devils food cake with marshmallow frosting, Dorothy Lohn, fredde duke, Freddy Duke, kids parties, Nate n' Als deli, pink Marshmallow frosting, retro cake, slumber parties, Susie Lohn
Posted in Recipes | 7 Comments »
Saturday, May 21st, 2011
I’m famous for much longer than 15 minutes. And, I admit, a bit proud of my fame. What, you might ask am I famous for? For calling the principal a cunt!
Uh huh. It’s a story with legs. Why it was at least fourteen years ago that the incident happened. People are still talking about it today. Gotta love that.
I was taught, by example NOT to fear authority. Taught to stand up for myself. When in life I needed to exercise this skill, I did. When it comes to standing up for my kids? Watch fuckin’ out for me. Seriously, don’t mess with my kids, ever! I will go ghetto on you so fast.
My older son had a run in with the principal from our local grammar school that I barely remember. But he might have been in the wrong. He was pretty out there and I didn’t come to his defense.
My daughter Augie was a different story. The principal was totally in the wrong. There had been these elaborate and sexually explicit drawings on a note to some boy. He was Augie’s “boyfriend” at the time. Augie’s name was signed to the note. But, it was NOT penned by Augie. She is incapable to this day (twenty-five years old) of drawing even a stick figure. I too, cannot draw a thing. The family of the boy were alarmed enough to turn this note into the principal. The principal called Augie in to her office to ask her about it. Augie said she didn’t write it, but the principal insisted she did. So I showed up in the principal’s office when I heard about it to confront her. I yelled at her but not in some ghetto way. I was just forthcoming and standing up for my daughter. Augie was being held accountable for something she didn’t do. Augie didn’t have a big enough voice to fully express how wronged she was, but I do. When I went into the principal’s office that day, she put up her hand in my face and snarled through those braces on her teeth “NOT NOW FREDDE!” then she walked away. Very provocative response. Of course it achieved what she wanted. It silenced me. (more…)
Tags: AKA, augie duke, Barnaby, bb the jerk, butterscotch brownie recipe from Clementines, fredde duke, Freddie Duke, fredrica duke, grammar school, growing up, not nice principals, the c-word, the Palisades
Posted in Recipes | 10 Comments »
