Last weekend’s public memorial for Caz and Debs – which I couldn’t attend because Trump has banned me from the U.S. for having a beard … or being gay, I don’t know – reminded me that despite having so many friends on the A-list, I have still experienced so much A-list loss.
So obvi, before the service had even concluded, I grabbed out my collection of celebrity funeral booklets and picked out my dear Etta James’ at random, locking in the date with Ets and my time machine.
I first met Ets in the early 50s – Stockard Channing would therefore have been in her 60s at the time – when she and her biological mother moved to the Fillmore District of San Francisco. As soon as I heard her voice, I knew she was destined for greatness and hitched myself to her wagon.
Hitched is probably an understatement, it was more like fused … but anyway.
While we were close her entire life, we spent most of our time together in the late 60s while preparing her debut album, so I knew that that was the best time to go back to visit for our date.
Fun fact: At Last was written about me.
As always, it was equal parts joy and pain to be back visiting my deceased friend. The release of At Last was such a wonderful time in our lives and it was so great to be able to experience it again over some Whipped Fetta James, our favourite dip of the time.
If you have never had whipped feta before, you haven’t lived. A little bit tart, a little bit sweet and completely fluffy, it is the easiest dip to whip up when you’re hungry / in desperate need of comfort.
Whipped Fetta James
Serves: 1. No judgement.
300g feta cheese, at room temperature
100g cream cheese, at room temperature
Place the feta and cream cheese in a food processor and blitz the shit out of it for about five minutes.
Transfer to a bowl, cover and chill for about half an hour. If you can. Otherwise, devour straight away.