Monday, April 20, 2009
And the serial killer idea is not bad- perhaps Dabberina is driven mad by an overabundance of processed foods, and goes on some kind of rampage...
Ooh! Ooh! Driven mad by the public's increasing reliance on eating out instead of cooking for themselves, Dabberina renounces the cooking life and withdraws into a life of solitude. That can be the Act I finale. And then during Act II Dabberina's henchman, Pressure Cooker, has to convince her that hger skills are too valuable to waste!
And these Keebler Elves- are they the main villain, or just a side gang? Who is the BIg Cheese of the culinary criminal underworld?
Some things to think about:
La Dabberina as a super hero.
Her costume? (I think it has to have the glasses on/glasses off ala Superman/Clark Kent.
Her utility belt contains?
Her ride: I see a Vespa scooter. It has that fat back end that can hide all sorts of stuff.
Super powers? (she knows the exact weight of a 'dash'?
Back at Abby's apartment, a tea kettle begins to whistle. On a cabinet door directly above, the glass steams up. A message appears.
"Help needed at Emeril's Trattoria."
Abby comes into the room, and reads the message.
ABBY: That's the third time this week! The guy should buy a cookbook.
Abby walks to the espresso machine, pushes a button on the side, then pulls first the left lever, then the right. Nothing happens. She repeats the sequence. Again, nothing happens.
ABBY: Damned technology!
There is a door immediately to the left. She opens it, and walks in. Lights on the espresso machine glow, and the door closes.
Emeril's Trattoria: A knock on the back door. Sous chef answers, and in comes La Dabberina.
DABBERINA: Good evening, all. What is it this time?
SOUS CHEF: Good evening. I'll let Emeril explain.
EMERIL: Thanks for coming, La Dabberina. I'm having a problem with my Potage Marocaine.
DABBERINA: And what exactly is that?
EMERIL: It's basically a squash soup, with a dash of ras et hanout
DABBERINA: And the reason you can't just call it 'squash soup' is . . .?
EMERIL: Well, I can charge three times as much if I give it a french name.
DABBERINA: Jeez. Freakin' faux cajuns. Okay, let's have a taste.
Dabberina walks to the stove, and takes a spoonful of the soup out of the pot.
DABBERINA: Wow. You keep trying to sell this stuff at 12 dollars a bowl this place will be a Starbucks before you know it.
EMERIL: I know, I know. Can you help me?
(Song: "With a Little Bit?) Lyrics to follow
DABBERINA: Try spending more time in the kitchen and less time on TV. You might remember some of this stuff.
EMERIL: I know. I'm from Jersey. Showing off is what we do. But I'll do what you say.
DABBERINA: Thank you. I have homework . . . I mean I have other people to help besides you.
SOUS CHEF: Once again, thank you, La Dabberina. I can't teach that man a stinking thing.
DABBERINA: I know. The Food Network has driven many good cooks insane. Just look at Paula Dean. Last week she was wrapping macaroni and cheese in bacon, then deep frying it. I just had to kill her. Such a waste.
SOUS CHEF: Can't you just kill Emeril?
DABBERINA: Well, no. But let me know if he starts using a lot of catsup. We'll work something out. I'm off.
Dabberina exits through the door.
Light comes up on Dabberina standing on the street, astride her scooter. The garlic press on her utility belt begins to beep.
She opens it, revealing a communications device. A voice speaks?
DABBERINA: La Dabberina here. What's up, chief?
CHIEF: Bad news, La Dabberina. It's happened again.
DABBERINA: What's happened again?
CHIEF: The Keebler Elves. They've robbed another liquor store.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Never seen you or touched you
But read all your recipe books.
Here a whisk, there a stir
You have guided my hand down the
Path that my food career took.
Dabberina . . . Dabberina . . .
I see Michelin stars when I see you, Dabberina
And your name is like a prayer
A sous chef whispers . . .
Dabberina . . . Dabberina!
If I reach out to you,
Will you help fix this terrible
Slop that my chef calls his stew.
What it needs, I don’t know
Only that it will take someone
Special, that someone is you.
Dabberina . . . Dabberina . . ..
We beseech you, beg you
Plead you, Dabberina
Switch to a restaurant somewhere, two men looking disgustedly at a pot on a stove. They are a head chef and his assistant.
Chef: I am at a loss. I don't know what's wrong with this soup.
Assistant: Nor do I, sir.
Chef: I've made this a thousand times, and it's turned out perfectly.
Assistant: I know, I know. But for it to fail tonight . . .
Chef: Don't tell me, you imbecile! I know the mayor is coming tonight.
Assistant: What can I do? What can we do?
Chef: There is only one answer. We must summon La Dabberina
Assistant breaks into song, Dabberina (to the tune of Dulcinea)
I held a meeting of everyone involved in the project who lives in my apartment, and we voted you extra duties: you're now script supervisor, in addition to director.
I think we have a good outline of Act 1, Scene 1. You can put it into play-form.
Roommate: I'm sorry, I just-
Abby: No buts. Stop besmirching my kitchen with your ignorance.
Roommate exits, head cast down in shame and un-sated hunger.
Abby faces audiences and SINGS
SONG: It's Never Over-Easy To Be Me
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The curtain rises on a female college student, Abby, dressed in sweats, working at a stove in the kitchen. Her roommate enters, stage left, and sits down at a small table in the kitchen.
Roommate: Good morning, what's for breakfast?
Abby: I'm making my special quiche (she places a plate in front of the roommate, and turns back to the stove)
Roommate: Excellent! Got any ketchup?
Abby stops abruptly, turns to face her roommate, her eyes cold as ice, and says . . .
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Let's get ideas on the central character.
Who is she?
A glasses-wearing college student whose secret identity involves her taking off her glasses?
Does she work for an organization, or is she just running around telling people what they should be doing with no regard to their own feelings (aka, is she Republican)?
We'll let some production company do the tv show after the play and/or movie is a huge smash. All we'll have to do is cash the royalty checks.
Clare, J2, where are you?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Quiche of the Spider Woman
HMS Pinto Bean
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Croqet
Annie Get Your Gnocchi
A Tureen Grows In
How To Succeed In Burritos Without Really Trying
Finian’s Rainbow Trout
Kiss Me Kabobs
Bring In ‘Da Noise, Bring In ‘Da Funghi
- Man of Langouste
La Dabberina, the Cookbook Musical (working title)
Abby, lead chef
Jennifer Udden, Producer
Clare Greene, Musical Director (you do run the Houston Symphony, for God's sake)
Uncle Geoff, Technical Director
Becky, Director (we got to let Mom play, don't we?)
Saffi, whenever we need a squirt of something
Others to be named, positions to be named
Let's get to work
One cold, dateless night in March, Abby asked me for a recipe for macaroni.
Thanks to Facebook, we got to talking and decided (jokingly) to write a recipe book,
with the clear understanding that when we were less bored we would forget the whole thing.
So, being more bored than Abby, i took the picture that she sent me of her finished macaroni, doctored it a bit (poorly) and sent it back.
Clare ran across it on Abby's Facebook page, and volunteered her services. As you know, Clare and I have a publishing history.
Not long afterwards, Jennifer (the sequel) mentioned the "project" to me. When I found out what she did for work (I'm always the last to know) I jokingly told her that when we made the cookbook into a play, she could produce it.
She shot back a query - how do you make a musical about recipes?
Well, apparently that's our latest goal. I've got some ideas, for the next post. I want to see what this fool page looks like with one post on it.