The Popover King is none other than that gentle gentleman, Curt West, who was featured in last week’s Joe’s Journal. Before I expand on His Kingship, I would like to piggyback 0n Mr. Gelarden’s neat column about Mr. West’s World War II experiences (a must read) with a story of my own.
I have the pleasure of knowing the quiet, unassuming Curt for more years than I can count using both hands and feet. He shared with me another responsibility besides communications that he had during his war years. Seems a high ranking general chose Curt to be his personal skipper of the general’s very own watercraft. Now this wasn’t just any boat. This was like those 80-foot PT boats (as in PT 109 fame and the Harbor’s Stardust) that had three of those monster 12-cylinder, 1500 hp Packard engines, which after a night patrol could easily go through 5,000 gallons of 100 octane gas. The general’s boat most likely had two or three of these monsters. When the general wanted to go “island hopping,” who else was at the helm but young Curt from Steuben, Maine, later the Harbor. He never ceases to amaze me with his variety of talents, which brings me back to his being the Popover King.
Somehow during one of our conversations we got on popovers. He just smiled. Shortly afterward he showed up at our door with a commercial size Ziplock bag full of his fantastic popovers - “Heavone!” - as Fats Domino would say and sing it (for those unfamiliar with Fats there’s always Google). Dee, Elisabeth and I are so fortunate to have had repeated deliveries over the years. If you have not had one of “Curt’s Finest,” you have missed the treat of your life!
In ending, I’m hoping that a kitchen can be found so Curt will come out of retirement and teach me - and anyone else - the art of popover making. Thanks Curt for your years of friendship, and, you’re good for a hole-in-one.
Howard Wright Sr.