Not the first time I’ve made this. You sous vide a chuck for about 24 hours and then sear it off. This time it was a little more well done than we’d have liked, but it was still really good. Kinda briskety.

My younger son, Aaron, is doing the vinyl thing, traveling to record stores and shopping online for records. It’s no secret that vinyl has been a thing again for a while, despite the ubiquity of music via digital subscription (which we have as a family in Apple Music).

Today, he went over to my parents’ house to help out with decorating for the season, and came back with some of my old CDs. Rhonda mentioned to him when he came home that we have some bins in the basement with our commingled collection, and he headed straight down there to have a look.

We both went down with him, and I was as excited about seeing some of my old CDs as he was. (It’s even more fun seeing someone else excited by your collection.) I said something like, “I don’t know why I’m so excited… I have all of these on my phone.”

“C’mon… physical media!” Aaron answered in a flash.

He drug a bunch of CDs upstairs and organized them in his room.

I attended a session on Friday hosted by the New Jersey Coalition for Inclusive Education at the Medford Board of Education building and the presenter was Kory Kutzler from Resilient Edge. He was talking about trauma and developing resiliency, and one of his products that he brought to sell was a journal. Practicing gratitude was a feature of one of his products, and he was going over how you could journal gratitude.

I had gotten into that a bit a while back, writing “Three Goods” in Day One from January through March of 2024. I had Todoist remind me each night to make a list, and I enjoyed it, although sometimes it was a stretch to dig up something. That stretch, though, was helpful in that it assisted me in finding even small things that I could appreciate. I knew it was time to stop when I found the reminders annoying.

Kory’s discussion of this practice reminded me of my own short practice of gratitude, and I thought for a moment that maybe I should do that again, even if it were just a quick list in Apple Notes or an index card. But then I thought about Sunday Serial. Each week, I sit down and pick out at least three things that you can consider or check out, and they are some things that brought me a moment (or more) of joy, however ephemeral or forward-looking. So in that way, I am still very much practicing gratitude, albeit not daily.

Orthogonally related to practicing three goods–another thing I tried out when I was not looking forward to the day ahead was to write down three things I was looking forward for the next day on the evening before. These things were usually pretty small, like rowing in the morning, having a banana, or making a cup of coffee. I still do this from time to time.

What’s to look forward to about rowing before dawn, you might ask? It’s hard to find something that’s good for you that you can stick to, that helped you solve a problem or improve yourself, and to be well enough to do, and be able to tread down into the basement without a drive to a gym or waking anyone up. Rowing has very much been that for me.

We can’t delude ourselves that every day is going to be a fun, light, and carefree. We also can’t dedicate our lives to small pleasures. But there’s a special place for them in our hearts.

Bellview Winery’s Sunset Red Wine

Rhonda and I hit our usual spot for a growler refill and the Serafina we enjoyed (mostly me) last time kicked while they were filling our half-liter growler, so I went with the Sunset. We’ve had it before, but it’s been a while. I asked for a quick summary and the associate described it as a “light dry red,” which sounded perfect for a warm spring evening with dropping temps, and a chuck roast in the sous vide tank for tonight’s dinner. The website describes Sunset as “29% 2020 Chambourcin, 18% 2021 Chambourcin, 15% 2019 Syrah/Merlot, 14% 2021 Cabernet Franc, 13% 2019 Chamby/Cab Franc, 5% Blaufrankisch 2021, 5% 2021.” I’m more of a red wine fine but I’ve really gotten into whites since we’ve been trying wineries. I usually drink up all the red when we get it.

Somewhere I got into drinking Cabernet Sauvignon, which I like plenty, but I have always enjoyed lighter reds, notably cutting my teeth on Beaujolais and especially enjoying the fleeting availability of the nouveau variety. Wine is fun because of the remarkable variety of styles, even if you only prefer reds or whites.

MailMaven

I don’t know that I’m going to move my Mac-based emailing to MailMaven, but upon first blush, it checks off many of the boxes that I look for in an email application. Smart Folders? Check. Gmail and iCloud support? Check. Mac-assed Mac app? Check. Support even emailed me back… on a Sunday. Which is wholly unexpected.

Watermelon Season

I love watermelon. I’ve always liked watermelon, but my weight-loss journey found me eating more fresh watery things that aren’t very processed, and a rediscovery for me was watermelon. I think a bit part of why is the water part: I was rowing a lot, and intensely, and was often thirsty peripheral to my efforts. The structure of watermelon is such that large chunks of it are still low in calories, so it’s a good thing to eat when you’re hungry but trying to be careful. This isn’t the first watermelon of the season, but it’s the first (of many) full-size melons I’ve gleefully toted out of our local Shop Rite.

Tarragon Omelette

Rhonda and I picked up three pounds of bacon at the butcher during spring break, and we’re loathe to waste it, so I usually make a bunch on one morning each weekend. Eggs are made to order, and Aaron asked for an omelette.

I’ve been around the horn with omelettes, making French-style in stainless steel pans and country-style in the cast iron. Most recently I’ve been making them on the Blackstone griddle we have.

I was hustling out to the garden for some chives to juke the dish and spied the tarragon. I asked Copilot if tarragon goes well in omelettes, and it was most enthusiastic about the pairing. Aaron said it was great.

We hit the winery for some nachos and a couple of growler refills. Having a cocktail now before dinner.

Take Control Books’ Joe Kissel posted the other day about a new email app for the Mac, MailMaven. I’m trying the beta out now, and it really looks great. I’ll write up more soon.

Besides all that, Maven offers deep customization. If you’re the sort of person who loves tweaking things and squeals with delight every time you uncover another checkbox in Settings, you’ll be thrilled. Every aspect of the windows and message display, every keyboard shortcut, tweaky attachment options, and even the color, shape, and position of the unread message badge on the icon can be adjusted to your heart’s content.

I’ve written a lot here on Uncorrected about email apps. This is pretty exciting.

MailMaven

The mussels fixation continues apace. Spied this garage queen in the parking lot on the way out. It looks identical to my 2013 GT, but that style was available from 2005 to 2014.

When I interviewed for my current job, I told a (true) story about my first interview in the same district 22 years prior, for a school psychologist position. When I was asked where I saw myself in a few years, I thought for a moment and recounted a memorable passage from Under the Tuscan Sun:

Tuscans are of this time; they simply have had the good instinct to bring the past along with them. If our culture says burn your bridges behind you – and it does – theirs says cross and recross.

I only thought it fitting to repeat it when I was board approved for the position.

_Under the Tuscan Sun_is a book about which you can unironically say is better than the movie. I learned about it from A Common Reader, an early online bookseller famous for its paper catalog: the book descriptions were worth reading, irrespective of the likelihood that you would buy the book. I read it in Italy, when Rhonda and I were on vacation (in the summer of 1999, I think). It was a great book.

The novel is by no means heavy, but the movie has a much lighter vibe, and it is not an improvement. The characters in the movie are mere caricatures of the novel’s.

_____ 
I was thinking about our last vacation, and how both of us are eager to go back to the same hotel in Cape May. But I was thinking about other places, too. Not necessarily that much further from home as Cape May, but I hatch plots from time to time. Maybe notions is a better word.

That makes me wonder if one is better than the other, or if it’s just a matter of preference. Exploring and trying new things is always fun for me. But I do enjoy the comforts of the routine. In all things, moderation, I suppose.

Rhonda and I are having a hard time getting back into the routine. Nipped out for mussels and calamari. And wine.

I mentioned Norman Mailer’s _Tough Guys Don’t Dance _in “Genius and Lust,” and maybe this is one of the reasons I fell into it as autobiographical: One of my enduring memories is Mailer’s representation of Provincetown as an off-season shore town, because I could so readily identify with the shift, living, as I always have, close enough to the Jersey Shore that off-season visits were common enough.

The place turned gray before one’s eyes. Back in summer, the population had been thirty thousand and doubled on weekends. It seemed as if every vehicle on Cape Cod chose to drive down the four-lane state highway that ended at our beach. Provincetown was as colorful then as St. Tropez, and as dirty by Sunday evening as Coney Island. In the fall, however, with everyone gone, the town revealed its other presence. Now the population did not boil up daily from thirty thousand to sixty, but settled down to its honest sediment, three thousand souls, and on empty weekday afternoons you might have said the true number of inhabitants must be thirty men and women, all hiding.

Tough Guys Don’t Dance by Normal Mailer

I kinda do this every year without the cute emoji.

📨 Mail: Mimestream for work, Mailmate for home; Spark for iOS
📝 Notes: Apple Notes
✅ Todo: OmniFocus
📷 Photo Shooting: iPhone 16 Pro Max
🌅 Photo Management: Photos
📆 Calendar: Fantastical (Google for Work, iCloud for Home)
📁 Cloud File Storage: iCloud, Google Drive
📖 RSS: ReadKit and Unread, Feedbin back end
🙎🏼‍♂️ Contacts: Contacts, CardHop
🌐 Browser: Safari
💬 Chat: Messages
🔖 Bookmarks: Safari
📰 Read It Later: Safari Reading List
📜 Word Processing: Ulysses, Word
📈 Spreadsheets: Excel, Google Sheets
📊 Presentations: Google Slides, Keynote
💰 Budgeting: Tiller Foundation
🎵 Music: Apple Music
🔐 Password Management: 1Password
🚀 Launcher: Launchbar
🐘 Social: Mastodon, Bluesky, Micro.blog; Facebook for obligatory stuff

This is not a new dish for us, but it is a treat. We’ve had picanha, which is a rump cap or sirloin cap, at Brazilian steakhouses in Philly, most notably the now-shuttered Chima. It’s served coiled up on skewers in those places; I just sous vide and then roast off the whole thing on the grill. I kept it in the circulator for like six hours at 128 degrees before a 20-minute sit on the charcoal grill. It’s a leaner cut than a ribeye, but plenty juicy from the basting it gets from the fat cap. I had some Bellview Seraphina with mine. Rhonda did too.

M

Menuwhere is a great example of an app that makes being a Mac user fun, and highlights now iPadOS can be a staid experience in comparison.

I’ve written before about my love for Proteron Software’s Max Menus, which allowed me to create custom menu palettes for macOS that I could invoke using the mouse or keyboard. Here’s a Youtube video of the app in action. If you remember making folders of custom aliases and keeping them in your Apple Menu Bar back in the Mac OS days, it was kinda like that.

Menuwhere, from the clever developers at Many Tricks software, allows you to invoke the menu bar menus from wherever your mouse pointer is. I currently have it set to respond to control-right-click on my mouse (which is currently a Magic Trackpad).

Having the week off from work has allowed me lots of time to do fun things and post here on Uncorrected. Some obvious choices for this week’s Sunday Serial include discoveries from our mini-vacation, as well as a few other finds:

Washington Inn in Cape May

Rhonda and I finally dined at this well-regarded restaurant in Cape May. The escargots are a must-have. A rotating and inventive cocktail menu, attentive service, and fulsome wine list–complete with a sommelier–round out a worthy dining experience.

Buttonwood Boutique

A classic-yet-modern Victorian manse in Cape May offers the best of both worlds: quaint and historically true to Cape May’s theme, but a fully modern experience from booking to checkout. I’m inclined to shop around with restaurants, but I’d stay at the Buttonwood in a heartbeat again. Possibly soon.

Mussels

We’ve been trying the mussels at all of our local favorite restaurants, and a great option is to get some apps to share for dinner when you’re not looking for a big spread. Thursday nights at the local pizza shop have turned into mussels night a couple of times this spring, and it’s a great way to have a meal out without betraying your macro count.

I really miss the Mussel Bar in Atlantic City.

A Festive Spouse

Rhonda updated the spring garland in my office and added some lights. I think she’s got a Temu addiction, but they do have nice things for the house. I’m currently enjoying this seasonal layout, which is appropriately patriotic.

NJ Uncorked: A Local Wine Blog

There’s so much content out there that you really have to look for. I did a quick search this morning before getting up and found Dave Mullen’s un-sniffish blog about wine, NJ Uncorked. He’s traveling around and trying local wineries with his wife; he’s a retired school psychologist and oenophile. I’m really enjoying reading the entries and adding to my own wine wish list. I regret not getting into local wines earlier.

Buena Connection Brewing

Rhonda and I fought the temptation to stop at Buena Connection Brewing yesterday, as it was the grand opening. (Neither of us love crowds.) We’ll be there soon enough. There’s a cream ale, nitro stout, and IPA I’m keen to try.

Having just experienced Cape May “off season,” much to our mutual delight, it got me thinking about my notional love for the off-season shore town. I dug around here on Uncorrected to see if I’d expressed my affection thus in these virtual pages, but could find no record. Excelsior, then, because I wanted to wax ecstatic.

I was finishing up grad school in the spring of 2002 and had a job interview in Ocean City, NJ, for a school psychologist position that opened up. I was pretty excited about the prospect of working for a nice district, but doubly enthused about being in a familiar shore town when the tourists aren’t there. Aka off season.

I thought about how cool it would be to live there, even. But hey: I didn’t know much about the cost of living at the Jersey Shore back then.

That draw, though, continues to this day, and I think we all (as in the four of us) share it to some degree. Sure, Rhonda and I tend to set the vacation schedule, but we get no complaints: Rehoboth in the fall is an example. I’ve eyed up other spots, and I imagine we’ll keep Cape May off season as a goal to shoot for when we can. I have notions of a Vrbo near Sandy Hook and taking the ferry into the city, too.

I don’t know what it is. I think part of it is that I don’t like crowds. I’m a bit of an introvert. The notion of enjoying something more privately that is often subjected to gaudy shows of insta-lookat-me appeals to me somehow. It’s a weird balance for sure: an empty restaurant is a bad sign. To the middle, I suppose, whether in aggregate or individual circumstances.

So yeah: I’d like to go back to Cape May.