Finally, a book that answers all the essential questions: why is a taco the ultimate party food? 

Why do wecelebrate Taco Tuesday? How can you, dear reader, parlay your love of tacos into the enviable status of excellent party host?

Not only do Chloé Sehr and Andy Heidel reveal all their taco party secrets, but they also invite you into their kitchen, where everyday ingredients become magical meals--no small feat in a kitchen the size of a photo booth. This book features recipes for a variety of vittles and tipples created by Chloé and Andy, along with stories and essays, including the exclusive, very first installment of the Cat Dick and ChubbyPaws Mysteries series.

This is the last book you’ll ever need on throwing taco parties. Do everything Chloé and Andy tell you to do and prepare to be truly fabulous.

 

 

It took a while to settle on a cover and finish the final edits, but I am super happy with the end result. For over 25 years I've been working on this book on and off, never finding it a home until now. If you'd like to learn more about the first woman, Lilith, who was created before Eve, pick up a copy at Amazon.com.

Essentially, I rewrote Genesis. 

 

LILITH is based on the writings contained in the Talmud, Kabbala, Midrash, Bible, Kebra Negast, Zohar, The Alphabet of Ben Sira; the research of Siegmund Hurwitz, Dr. Barbara Black Koltuv, Raphael Patai, and Howard Schwartz; as well as Lilith’s appearances in folklore, myth and legend.

 

The process of sifting through the endless tales of Lilith revealed a natural and compelling narrative of her life, which I stitched together to create a fluid amalgamation of myth, theology, psychology and original fiction. 

Partners in Rhyme

The Rhyme of the Century

Years ago I wrote The Locket, a fairy tale for my neighbor’s daughter, Jeanette, on Union Street in Park Slope, Brooklyn. Every week I’d write a chapter and drop it off with her mom, Barbara, and they would have story time that night. The story was about a little girl who had to travel to the fairy realm in order to retrieve a plant with magical properties that would cure her sick mother. What I didn’t know at the time was that Barbara had un-diagnosed cancer. When she passed, I wept that my story didn’t come true. There was no magical plant to save her. While doing research for The Locket, I read Grimms, Mother Goose, and Aesops for reference, story ideas and characters. Out of all my research, Humpty Dumpty stood out. I had questions that had to be answered! Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall. Where, when, why, what, how? I had also just watched the remake of Dragnet with Dan Akroyd. What if it wasn’t an accident, or vertigo? What if he had been pushed? What if there was an investigation?

So I started writing, knowing this might be a great story for my niece and nephew, Rhemi and Gabe. Many times I write to discover what I’m thinking about, especially when it comes to my short stories: to discover the ending, to solve the case, to get answers, to find the why. And so I reread Mother Goose Tales and populated my world of The Big Nursery with those characters, figured out the suspects, blended some realities and told it in the Dragnet style, making Friday’s Child my detective. Thus True Crimes from Rhymes Square was born.

In all good detective stories there is a sidekick, one usually close to retirement, about to get married, or have a child. This trope is used to create more sympathy when that character dies. Don’t worry, nobody dies in my story. So the thing is, I have a cat named October and I thought Friday’s Child (who is loving and giving,) should have a partner named September (thirty days hath he till retirement.) Looking back to the story of Humpty, there are all the kings horses and all the kings men--they must be the beat cops. So Friday’s Child and September must have come up through the ranks, made detective, and explains why September is a horse. Now, as detectives, they work for Mother Goose.

My first draft was a rambling mess and this is why writers need editors to reign them in. Fortunately my buddy Doc was there to tell me to use the police procedural structure. I had the Dragnet voice but not the milieu. I got back on track, finished the tale of Humpty Dumpty and read it to a nonplussed Rhemi and Gabe. They needed pictures to help them follow the story. So I filed my story away and forgot about it. That is… until my fabulous artist friend Eric Hamilton

published The Sound in the Basement; a Kickstarter-funded children’s book. Once I read it I asked if he would read my story and consider illustrating it. He read it, loved it, and then we came up with this crazy idea to produce True Crimes from Rhymes Square as a limited collector’s edition, and a sales tool to find a publisher for national distribution. So here we are, nine months after the journey began. Along the way, we picked up Liz Daggar to design the book, and Stephanie Cox-Williams to be our project manager and keep us on track. Printing costs for the book are 4.5k and I am indebted far much more to Eric, Liz and Stephanie for all their work to date. Our Kickstarter is for 6k because we know we can make that mark, but our true goal is to raise 12k in order to pay everyone, including myself for out of pocket expenses. Artists and artisans need to be paid and our team has tremendous faith in this project which is why you should too!

Truly, I am here on bended knee with cap in hand asking you to join our team and support this project. We’re creating art, promoting talented people, and together we all are creating something new and unique. For just $35 your reward is a signed numbered collector’s edition of True Crimes from Rhymes Square. When we get a publisher, we will be the next Stinky Cheese Man. Imagine your bragging rights when that happens. You can say, “I made that happen.”
And you can make it happen by clicking here.

So 
Love, Andy

found an old short story of mine

Boiler Maker by R. Andrew Heidel I sallied up to the bar. "A pint of bass and a Glengoyne singe malt, neat please." "Ah, a boiler maker," replied the kindly old barkeep. He wore a white shirt with brown stripes covered by a glowing white lightly starched apron. He was a bartender of the old school, right down to the handlebar mustache and arm bands. Give him a straw hat, I thought, and he would be perfect in a barbershop quartet. "Yah, I need something to warm me up." The bartender took a look up and down the bar. It was a quiet Tuesday evening. A couple sat at the end of the bar, whispering sweet nothings, chocolate covered love, candied happiness, fingers entwined like the tentacles of an erotic gummy squid. Satisfied that the clientele was taken care of he turned back to me. "Sure you don't need something to cheer you up?" "Not right now. Sometimes it's not about the pep talk, pops." "Sure it is, if you don't do it for yourself, whose gonna do it." I felt like socking him. The last thing I needed to do was look on the bright side. I was happy with the dark shades I looked through at the moment. But something about his sincerity, his compassion, kept me from getting up and moving over to one of the empty booths. "Okay, hit me with your best shot," I challenged him. "Well, what seems to be the problem?" "Have you ever tried your hardest? I mean taken everything you've had and invested it into something big, really big? You know, into your dream?" "Sure." "And then have that come to nothing?" "Yup." "Well, that's where I am right now." The barkeep glanced sideways, then leaned forward on the bar, "Listen," he said in a conspiratorial manner, "don't just follow your dreams, chase them. Pursue them. Stalk them. Use all your cunning and guile to sneak up on them from behind and pounce upon them. Wrestle them to the ground and make them yours. And when they slip through your fingers, strengthen your grip, practice your holds, and don't ever, ever, give up." I thought about what he said for a moment, looked at him and asked "So what happened to you? Did you give up?" "No. I didn't give up. I found my dream, but I didn't know what to do once I had it." He picked up a towel, began drying a mug and we both lapsed into silence.

Believe it! I Opened my bar

A little over three years ago I was laid off from my job in publishing. Then the economy tanked and I thought, what a great time to open a bar. Now, at long last and almost two years of waiting, The Way Station is finally open and I'm employed full time again, by my self. I hope I turn out to be a nice boss.

Story Time

This one is from the archives written back in 2005.

She only comes out at night by R. Andrew Heidel

It’s late so I brush my teeth, turn out the lights, strip down and go to bed.

I wake in the middle of the night to the yowling. If you’ve ever heard a cat in heat, you have the beginnings of knowing this sound. Remember that sound, the one of the cat in heat. Now imagine it is plaintive instead of urgent, sad instead of excited, emerging from the soul of the cat, instead of its sex. Now you know the sound of “yowling” and how it can wake you in the middle of the night, full of fright. I call to my cat. Make the clicking sounds with my tongue against the soft palate to gain her attention then call her name. “here, Sally Brown.” I hear the pitter pat and click-clack of paws and claws against the linoleum floor. There is a pause as the sound reaches the edge of my bed, and then I feel the tell-tale landing on the mattress besides my head. I reach out for her, to stroke her, to calm her night terrors, but my hand doesn’t meet her warm soft fur. It passes through a freezing cold bubble and my body becomes paralyzed. She is not there. She died, a few days ago and now that I’ve buried her, she only comes out at night. I feel her climb up onto my chest like she used to and lay down, her whiskers barely touching my face and remember, cats can steal your breath. If that is the case, Can a ghost cat steal your soul?

More Legs than a Catapillar

Update December 2009. Smartmom at the Brooklyn paper wrote about the decade that changed parenting forever. At number three (with a bullet) is me for my Stroller Manifesto.

Befloor and after part 2

As you can see from exhibit A, the floor has been trashed from several parties, additional work, and a squirrel named "Sparky." I got down on my hands and knees and used my Lancaster Services Dalmatian technique and hand wiped the floor clean, then shined it with Liquid Gold, prepped it with Mineral Spirits before putting down a coat of Polyurethane. As you can see from Exhibit B, the finished floor looks amazing with hues of deep red and chocolate. Stay tuned to Waystationbk.com for a full spread of the finished bar hopefully by the end of next week.

Way Station Logo

Behold the glorious logo for the Way Station, Brooklyn's first Steampunk bar and performance venue. The logo was created for me by the incomparable Elizabeth Daggar/Electrofork.

We had a very successful secret opening last saturday and you can see some of those photos at Way Station's facebook page. I'll post some here soon. Stay tuned, we're going to have an Octoberfest on October 10th featuring Balkan Brass Bands, Bratwurst, and Beer!

Is it wrong that I fell in love with a piece of wood

I looked at all 600 planks during the Big Sort and when I came accross this one, I fell in love. Its tough to tell but there's a beautiful starbusrt emenating from the knot and i can't wait to see how it shines once i stain it. I'll be sure to give this board a place of honor in my bar so keep an eye out for it, because its got its eye on you. Filthy Board. You're Mine. Stop Looking At Her!

Its starting to look like a bar!

We're getting close. Bill finished the risers for the Banquettes and the Platform. I began work on the Bar. By the end of next week, we'll have all major construction done and be in the design, painting and trick-out phase. Woot! There's Roger working on cleaning the brick wall. God bless his soul. He's also a budding mixologist and I can't wait to taste the beverages he's been working on. All we need now is a sink, ice maker, beer cooler, taps, bar stools, inventory, walk in cooler, some patrons and we're open for business. Oh yeah, and a liquour license. Damn. Over a month into the application process and it still hasn't been assigned yet. Eee gad.

Remember, there's still time to become a micro investor in the bar. Along with your investment of 5k or 10k comes "Bragging Rights" that you own a bar. Your first beer is always on the house, and you get a lucrative 5% interest return on your investment or 1% of net profit (whichever is greater) over the next five years. Supplies are unlimited. Order Now!

Morning Wood.

Well, actually, it was delivered in the afternoon. They were supposed to call and give me a 1 hour heads up that they were coming so I would have time to call in the troops, but no, so It was up to me, Bill and Lulu to unload all 1700 lbs of lumber. Yeah, this is the after picture. The before was lumber EVERYWHERE. The fine folk at Carlisle who I bought the flooring from sent a great assortment of lengths and widths which then I had to organize once we unloaded it. So i think i single handedly lifted at least 3400 lbs. I am the Hulk. Hulk Likes Lumber. Hulk Not Smash. Actually the boards are so smooth and creamy I wanted to take a nap on one. Now I have to let them acclimate to the NYC climate, but next week... Instalation! stay tuned for Floor Saga!

By the way, Carlisle has amazing customer service. And after I ordered they sent me a package that was like "what to expect when you are expecting a new floor." Hand written note and all! Delirious after the load-in i remember saying to Bill: "Dear Diary, today I got my wood. I think that means I'm a man now."

I Now Have A Sink, A Toilet, And an Interorgation Room!

Wow, look at that, my very own interrogation room! Waterboarding is out. Making a person drink three gallons of water and then sit in a room next to a working bathroom is IN! here's a picture of the working bathroom. Aww, its shy. Its trying to hide behind the door. Well, once I install the doornobs it will be able to lock the door and noone can bother it. Speaking of instalation, here's the sink i put in. 2 down, one to go. I might not have a bar to serve people from, but at least they can go to the bathroom. Earlier this week Bill had the best line after doing some sheet rocking on the bathroom (also known as "rocking). "I've got good news and I got bad news. The Good news is you've finally got a fully private bathroom. The bad news is it is not the one with a working toilet."

Dog Blog. Seven Dogs in Seven Days

So BARK opened up on Bergen between 5th ave and flatbush in Park slope. The first day they opened I had to get their chocolate shake. Now, 6 bucks seems like a lot for a shake, but it was amazing. if you are in the mood for one, its definetely worth the splurge. On Wednesday, I tried their NYC dog with onions and mustard. Man was it good. they grill the outside of the bun, the dog snapped when you bit into it and the onions were a great compliment. Today, I tried the Kraut dog pictured here. No, that is not a penis. The saurkraut was perfect. not to sour, just enough crunch and not overwhelming. Right now tho the NYC dog is my favorite but I have more to eat. I will update you as I continue to consume the fantastic menu at Bark. and, if you were wondering about the name as I did. just think Dog.

Befloor and after

So after ripping out the walk in cooler and exploring the floor below, Bill discovered that it was rotted through and some scary freaky albino like worms were wriggling through it, feeding on the festering floorboard. well, that was enough for me to jump into action with my sawzall and start cutting out the infected rot like a surgeon going to town on a gangrenous leg. I met with many obstacles along the way, including the stubborn kickplate. While trying to wrench it free with a crowbar it came loose unexpectedly and i went flying above the void, but thanks to my cat like reflexes i landed on those two beams in the center next to the wall. This wasn't the last time the bar tried to take my life. Today while cutting the new floor to fit the space, i fell through a gap into its open maw. But I have succeeded. I gave birth to a floor today, and I named it... Floory.

Moby Dick

Bill and I keep coming across projects that we dub "White Whales." Here's the old walk in cooler that I had to demolish and it took about 2 weeks start to finish. fortunately the compressor and vent were salvageable and we'll install a new cooler in the basement. I am now a master of the sawzall!

Spaten

I love this shovel. We found it in the basement during the cleanup and it has proved to be the most useful tool in the shop. Brooms break, dustpans crack, but this champion keeps on scooping. Thank you shovel. I love you.

This is my shovel. There are many like it but this one is mine. My shovel is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my shovel is useless. Without my shovel I am useless.

Tatanka

This is all that remains of the kitchen grill hood. Its the ductwork for the exhaust. I stood atop a rickety ladder and using my new favorite tool, the reciprocating saw, cut thru the mother to set it free. It vibrated so hard, was so loud, and i was so scared with the process because the yellow rope holding it up so it wouldn't fall when i cut thru it, was right at neck level with me. When i finally cut thru it and got off the ladder i couldn't stop shaking for the next 5 minutes. But its done, and the dude who took out the grill hood for me is also a junk metal collector so he'll be back to take this behemoth out of the shop this weekend. As Bill puts it, use every part of the buffalo. mmmm, buffalo.

The Banquette!

So after reading about German engineering getting the banquettes to my bar I thought you might like to see a picture of one. I left my bag in the picture so you have a frame of reference as to how frickin huge they are. What i forgot to mention about the day of the great banquette move was that they are soooooo big that they did not fit through the door. We had to take out the front windows not only at my bar but at Barette to move them.

The Bane of my Existence

Behold the Grill Hood. Yes, the Way Station was once upon a time a Jamaican Restaurant and they left behind this giant 10 foot long grease filled grill hood for me to get rid of. Currently the banquettes are underneath it and in an attempt to not kill my customers when the fire suppression system accidently goes off i am trying to give it away for free on craigslist (you remove it, its all yours). So if you know anyone who would like a grill hood for their apartment, back yard or office, have them get in touch. Makes a great wedding gift!!!