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Archive for the ‘Food and Restaurant’ Category

Paul's dessert at the Peking Pavilion

Paul’s  chocolate lava cake dessert at the Peking Pavilion

By Eileen and Paul Goldfinger

We like to go to the Peking Pavilion in Manalapan every few months. This is not your mother’s Chinese restaurant.  It is a fine American restaurant owned by the Kuos family, serving spectacular Chinese cuisine. In 2007 it was rebuilt after a fire and is a striking building with a big red front door.  It is spacious and modern–like a Soho restaurant.  There is a lively bar scene where you can eat and watch Chinese sports like American football.   Most of the help are Chinese, and the service is superb.

He  greeted us out front, but he didn't speak a word of English, or Chinese, for that matter.  PG photo

He greeted us out front, but he didn’t speak a word of English, or Chinese, for that matter. He used to be a terra cotta soldier before going into the restaurant business.   PG photo

We have been going there for years and we  always have the same thing:  peppercorn calamari appetizer  (share) and then Peking Duck (share–allow about 20 minutes to prepare).  This recipe is identical to the kind served in Beijing.  It is now considered the national dish of China   (but not because we eat it all the time.)  When the waiter took the order, I said, “Duck” and he got under the table.

They brought over the duck and carved it as we watched.  The dissection was perfect, and the waiter held up the finished product and showed it off while flashing a big smile.  He prepared  the perfectly cooked and moist meat in thin pancakes with bits of crispy duck skin, celery and scallions.  There also were crispy drumsticks and legs on the side.  The housin sauce was dark and tasty.

We usually skip dessert, and Eileen did, but this night, after a bad week, I refused to deny myself.  It was the first dessert we ever ordered there, and it was marvelous. The lava cake  interior is warm molten chocolate.  Accompanied by a scoop of high grade vanilla ice cream and a single shot espresso, it was something.

The people next to us were eating giant shrimp with a glaze. We also saw wonderfully prepared steaks and big bowls of wonton soup. Also they have spicy sautéed soft shell crabs, grilled halibut over shiitaki mushrooms, moo shu vegetables and many other choices. No one was using chop sticks. That’s good because I would not have been able to eat the rolled up duck with chop sticks.

The wine list was fine, the hot steamy tea arrived in little tea pots, and the white rice was sticky.  We each had a glass of wine. Eileen chose an Italian Pinot Grigio while I got the 5 River Pinot Noir from California.

In keeping with the tradition of Chinese take-out, we took home enough food for 1/2 a dinner the next night.  I even, believe it or not, took home half my chocolate lava cake after eating all the ice cream.

Next night, at home,  Eileen made sweet and sour turkey/beef meatballs with fresh asparagus  for the other half of the meal—a recipe by a Chinese chef.  We finished it with a half bottle of Louis Jadot Burgundy  (smooth and light–about $12.00)  No need for a salad. No dessert at home. The lava cake is still waiting in the fridge for me to have a weak moment. It’s probably cold by now.

We have never had  bad luck or bad duck at the Peking Pavilion, located at 110 Route 33 west.  It is right after the business 33 joins the highway 33.  The prices are reasonable ($15.00-$25.00 per most entrees—except ours). Our meal was about $80.00, but I don’t have the exact breakdown because I usually toss away the receipt without looking too closely–an old habit that makes  Eileen  mutter.  In fact she’s the mutter and I’m the fatter.  I think the duck was about $42.00, but it was for two and lasted into the next day.   Note that we did get a fortune cookie and my fortune, as usual in a Chinese restaurant, was dopey–something about feeling like a million bucks–all green and wrinkled.

CINDY SCOTT  with a Jerome Kern song that makes me seasick and romantic at the same time:


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The Monkfish is found in tiny monasteries under the ocean. Although they have a winning smile, watch out for the small razor-sharp teeth. On the right are choir boy fish, the Bronzini (unrelated to the crime family on the Sopranos). They were singing Gregorian chants when they were caught.  The Monkfish is $9.99 per pound.   PG photo at Ocean Wegman

The monkfish is found in tiny monasteries under the ocean. Although they have a winning smile, watch out for the small razor-sharp teeth. On the right are a choir of  boy fish, the Bronzini (unrelated to the crime family on the Sopranos). They were singing Gregorian chants when they were caught. The Monkfish is $9.99 per pound.  Not shown on the left are the Porgy and Bess fish at $5.49. Their song, as recorded by scientists, is  ”Bess, you is my woman.”    PG photo at Ocean Wegman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Restaurant BT: "Authentic, healthy and French."  Tampa, Florida.  PG photo

Restaurant BT: “Authentic, healthy and French.” Tampa, Florida. PG photo

By Paul Goldfinger

Yesterday was a bit chilly by Tampa standards. About 60 degrees in the evening. The three of us were going to spend our last meal in Florida going to a trendy gourmet restaurant. BT’s is in an artsy neighborhood. Michael, our youngest son, who lives in Tampa, parks his Jeep Wrangler in their private lot, next to a long BMW sedan—black and exquisitely shiny. Eileen tries to climb out of the back seat of his Jeep. It is a terrifying thing to watch, but we finally help extricate her. She regains her composure, and we sashay into the restaurant, a very fine French-Vietnamese place where sophisticated people go.

The crowd is in its 30’s and 40’s. Three young couples sit at one table, but the three women huddle together at one end, laughing and chattering. They all have straight long hair, and the blond wears black with a plunging neckline—plunging in the back. Many of the men wear jackets. Glasses are clinking all over the room, and the music is so subtle that all you can hear are the swishes of a snare drum. I’m very sensitive to music in restaurants. This place wants to appeal to your subconscious. The décor is minimilist/elegant. The menu is exotic and complex. The chef, a tiny but beautiful Vietnamese woman, circulates around the room in her short white cook’s jacket.

The host, dressed in a suit, seats us in the corner, but it is a small place, and you get a good look at everyone. A couple walks in. They are dressed in black, head to toe, but he is wearing a T shirt and some cut-off pants with flip flops. He is a giant who could easily be an NFL lineman. She is stylish and she is all over him. “They should get a room,” whispers Eileen. “Why,” I said, “They’re just having fun.” Michael takes it all in. He says nothing but sees everything. It’s the nature of his work. We order—just ordering is a sensory experience because of the menu descriptions.

Kobe beef with hand made noodles.   PG photo

Kobe beef with hand made noodles. PG photo

The food is marvelous—who cares about the price?—-gulp! This is a special night. But then, something happens that changes everything.

A group of 3 couples walks into the place and heads towards the bar while their table is readied. I look at them (I am an unrepentant people-watcher). The man in the middle, also all in black, is short but has a commanding presence. I study his face—BAM! It’s Emeril Lagasse. No doubt .

I grab Eileen’s arm. As he walks by our table, our eyes lock, and I know instantly that he knows that I know. The moment ends in a flash, and he sits at the bar, back to us. I look around the room. No one has noticed. Then, as if someone has set off an alarm, the room comes alive as most everyone looks over at the bar. Emeril is very cool and seems oblivious, chatting with his friends. Evidently he has recently launched a TV show about Florida cuisine. He now lives in the Sunshine State.

Link to “Emeril’s Florida”

Emeril Legasse (Internet photo)

Emeril Legasse (Internet photo)

Soon, as they lead him and his party towards the best table—the one near the door—the three sophisticated ladies jump up simultaneously and, like teenagers at an Elvis concert, they grab Emeril and insist that he pose for a photo with them. The heck with the men at the table—it’s Emeril and them. They shoot two photos and then he moves on. I noticed that as he posed, he did not stretch his arms around them. The ladies sat down and began to post on their Facebook pages.

Of course the staff catered to him, and rightly so. This was his second visit to BT, according to our waitperson who was taking care of us. As we left, I didn’t dare take his photo or even look his way. I wish I knew what he ordered, but no way. After all, we Grovers are also very sophisticated.

Editor’s note: Did you ever spot a celebrity in a restaurant ? Please comment below. –PG

EARL HINES plays “Sophisticated Lady” by Duke Ellington.


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Making guacamole at the Lakes Park Farmers Market in Fort Myers, Florida.   November, 2012.  By Paul Goldfinger. Left click for larger view.

By Eileen and Paul Goldfinger

Guacamole was invented by the Aztec indians in Central Mexico. They grew avocados and tomatoes and they even had corn from which they made tortillas. It’s unlikely that they used tortilla chips and guacamole dips while watching their equivalent of Monday night football, which was human sacrifice on a grand scale.

Aztec mask. Louvre. Note the guacamole color. If you eat too much mole, you can get that color.

Cortes, the Spanish invader, conquered the Aztecs in the 16th century, taking over Tenochtitlan, the capital. He introduced horses and onions to the Indians. Maybe he liked guacamole (the ‘g’ was pronounced like a ‘w’) and improved the recipe with his onions, because the dish and its name have survived to this day. He apparently didn’t like the name of the place, because it became Mexico City.  And Montezuma, the Aztec loser-king, wound up having a gastrointestinal disturbance named for him. On the other hand, let’s remember that the Aztecs also gave us chocolate and popcorn.

Currently you can find a big selection of avocados at Wegmans where they can show you how to select the ripe ones and how to ripen the hard ones. They even have recipes for “mole” (pr. mo’lee), which is how the dish is called at our house, so named by our sons Michael and Stephen. Eileen must be related to the Aztecs (Jewish Aztecs are called Jaztecs) because she makes a mean mole while playing Miles in the kitchen.

This week we were at the Lakes Park Farmers Market in Fort Myers, Florida, where some guys have a business making big batches of mole to sell to the tourists — maybe like Montezuma’s guacamole makers did. It’s fun to watch them make their recipe in big stainless steel vats. They have an assembly line including a device for quickly separating the pit, the skin and the green  fruit that actually goes into the recipe.

Eileen’s version has been refined over the years, and it is better, in our opinion, than the Florida mole makers whose product is good, but not Aztec-great. Here is her guacamole recipe:

GUACAMOLE RECIPE:  by Eileen Goldfinger, house and garden editor  @Blogfinger

2 Haas avocados

2 Campari or small plum tomatoes, seeded and diced

¼ cup diced red onion

½ Jalapeno pepper, sliced and minced

½ lime

½ teaspoon garlic powder

½ teaspoon sea salt

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Tabasco sauce to taste (optional)

Cut two ripe avocados in half and remove the pits. Use a fork to mash one avocado in a medium size bowl. Add the tomatoes, onion, Jalapeno pepper, garlic, salt and pepper to the mashed avocado.  Stir gently together.

Dice the second avocado into half inch pieces and add to bowl and stir gently.

Next squeeze the juice from the half lime into the avocado mixture and stir.

Add Tobasco sauce, one or two drops at a time and taste to adjust seasoning.

Serves four   (that would be four regular people or two Goldfingers)

SOUNDTRACK:  Oh no!   It’s those mariachi; they follow me wherever I go in Mexico.  Montezuma’s revenge is not gastrointestinal, it’s those damn mariachis.  Quick, Eileen, let’s run away and buy a fajita from the guy  with the horse and wagon on the street.  Don’t worry—I’m a doctor.


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A snack at Bruno’s Italian Bakery in Greenwich Village. By Paul Goldfinger

Sometime’s we get into a rut when it comes to places to eat. We get used to what’s in the neighborhood and we forget what “great” is.  I am somewhat of a coffee nut because I love excellent coffee.

Last year we considered running a “best of OG” coffee contest, but, to be honest, there is no superior coffee in the Grove   (except at my house where I make it myself using a careful multi-step method.)  The locals need to try harder if they want four coffee stars.

We didn’t do the contest because we didn’t want to offend those merchants in town who sell coffee.  But now that we have broken the ice with our restaurant survey, feel free to comment below and tell us where the best coffee around here is–and that includes the towns nearby.

Meanwhile, if you are a foodie, sometimes you have to “go to the mountain.”   I would suggest Italy or France, but that would be a dream. In the days when Little Italy was, well, Little Italy, you could go there and find great espresso and pastries.

But if we confine our quest to coffee and a croissant,  I know a place near Greenwich Village—-It’s  the Bruno Bakery at 506 LaGuardia Place.   It is about two blocks from Washington Square Park, between Bleeker and Houston.  You can sit outside, but first you go inside to make your selection.  The display of baked goods was outrageous—I couldn’t decide, so I made an obvious choice—an almond croissant and a cup of the house coffee.

Then I went outside and waited—for about 3 minutes.   The waitress smiled as she set in front of me a croissant from the gods—with a side of home made preserves.  The outside was crunchy, but the inside was flaky and buttery with a kind of almond paste interspersed between the leaves of the pastry.   The coffee was steamy hot and delicious.  People walking by on the sidewalk glanced sideways to stare at my treat.  I didn’t read my paper because I wanted a total experience.

I can’t share that treat with you, but at least I brought a picture. I texted Eileen with the photo, and even though she is on a diet, she confessed that she would have fallen off the wagon for that snack.

SOUNDTRACK:  This food requires music that is  soft and Italian  (like the girl I took to the prom)  that doesn’t detract from the goodies.  So that lets Louie Prima out.  But here is Ocean Grove’s own Ronald Naldi who creates just the right mood with “Santa Lucia.”


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Jersey tomatoes at Laurie’s market. July 31, 2012.   PG photo

By Paul Goldfinger

Anybody who is from New Jersey knows that we have the best tomatoes. The season comes to a peak in August, and to have a great year requires just the right amounts of heat, water and blessings of the gods.

At Laurie’s Farm Market in Neptune, on Atkins Avenue, between 7th and 8th Avenues, we found wonderful Jersey tomatoes. Sometimes tomatoes look good on the outside but they may taste lousy and look like potatoes on the inside. Some food markets sell tomatoes that are picked green but then are treated with gas to turn them red. This technique is unnatural and usually produces lousy results.

But these Laurie tomatoes are picked when nearly ripe and brought to market. If you give them a squeeze, just a slight give tells you they are ready. Some folks can smell them and tell.

The ones we bought today at $2.99 per pound were delicious, juicy and wonderful. Unless we have a problem with the weather, it looks like August will be a time of heavenly Jersey tomatoes.  By next week, the prices will probably drop to $1.99 depending on supply and demand.

Where I come from, we eat them like apples.

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No donuts at the Asbury Farmers’ Market. Asbury police eat healthy.

By Eileen Goldfinger, food editor @Blogfinger

We’ve been looking forward to the return of the AP Saturday Farmers’ Market at Sunset and Main.  It’s open now, although there are few Jersey grown items.  For example, the tomatoes are from South Carolina. But that’s not surprising. The growing season in New Jersey is short and the harvesting  hasn’t begun yet.

But, nevertheless, those farmers who were present today did have a wide variety of produce including corn, lettuce, onions, cabbage, potatoes , green beans, peppers, peas, zucchini, yellow squash, a variety of fruits and cut flowers.

The bread man was back giving out samples with a shmear of “real butter.”

The surprise today was the obvious presence of a flea market component. One table was featuring hats  (the owner was there last year as well),  a guy was selling Hawaiian shirts out of the back of his van  (like the “blouse man” in the movie “A Walk on the Moon” —-a must see Netflix rental with the beautiful Diane Lane)  and, most jarringly, a table that seemed to be from the Collingswood flea market.  There also was a vendor selling potted plants—definitely not edible.

It makes one wonder if the nostalgic feel of a genuine farmer’s market is to be replaced by a flea market with food.

SLIDE SHOW:  Photos by Paul Goldfinger

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Dave Fernicola behind the counter of Just Another Day’s, which holds its grand opening in Asbury Park on Sunday. Photo by Mary Walton

By Mary Walton

For 136 years come August, Ocean Grovers have been flocking to Day’s for ice cream. Talk about historic! It is the town’s oldest continuously operating business.

Day’s opened at its original and current Pitman Avenue location in August, 1876, according to an undated newspaper article in the archives of the Historical Society of Ocean Grove.  At the time, only one other business, the Osborn House, occupied the “scrub pine waste dotted with sand dunes” that extended to the ocean. But the Ocean Grove ice cream parlor was not the first such establishment owned by brothers William F. and Pennington Day. The enterprising pair had already been selling ice cream at a popular restaurant, also called Day’s, in Morristown. And after opening the Ocean Grove business, they branched out the following year to Asbury Park, with an ice cream garden at 219 Asbury Avenue. At some point their ice cream empire included a Newark outlet. The two shore businesses had similar designs, with tables surrounding a grassy courtyard filled with flowers.

Dave Fernicola and Arnold Teixeira have owned the business, formally named the Starving Artist at Day’s, since 1999. The Starving Artist restaurant, which fronts on Olin Avenue, serves breakfast and dinner year round, while the ice cream parlor is open only from mid-May to mid-October.

For years, Fernicola said in an interview, people have been telling him he ought to launch another Day’s in Asbury Park. “I gave in this year.” The new place, “Just Another Day’s,” debuted two weeks ago on the Asbury boardwalk north of the casino. But on Sunday at 8 p.m. it will proclaim its presence with a disco extravaganza.

Just Another Day’s substitutes shiny chrome fixtures, roomy display cases and a bank of colorful topping dispensers lining one wall for Ocean Grove’s well-worn and cluttered service area decorated with memorabilia. But the ice cream will be the same, Fernicola said. “Just basic ice cream,” but with “really cool flavors.”

The earlier Asbury Park Day’s was at 219 Asbury Avenue. Photo courtesy of Ocean Grove Historical Society

The original Day’s sold only ice cream, and it was closed on Sundays. When Agnes Day, the sister of the two founders, took over, she added tea sandwiches. One of the delicacies in those days was nesselrode pudding, made with French chestnuts and orange flower water. Another was a plum pudding, composed of chocolate, fruit and whipped cream, and topped with a cherry. In those days before refrigeration those confections would have been easier to make than the ice cream, which required vast quantities of ice.

The earliest frozen dessert, according to that fount of all wisdom, Wikipedia, originated in the Persian Empire when people poured grape-juice concentrate over snow. This, of course, sounds like today’s water ices. For centuries, snow or ice was the basis of frozen desserts. The Middle East continued to pioneer in this culinary arena. Arabs are thought to have been the first to use milk as a major ingredient. Recipes for “true ice cream” first appeared  in 18th-century England and American. And in 1843, Wikipedia says, Nancy Johnson of Philadelphia was issued the first U.S. patent for a small-scale hand cranked ice cream freezer.

This 1890 ad in the Ocean Grove Record promotes both the Asbury and OG busineses.

In 1929 the Asbury Park Day’s closed its doors forever. In these parts it is remembered for employing Paul Robeson, later to become famous as an actor, singer and blacklisted left-wing radical. As a youth at Day’s, he is said in the aforementioned newspaper account to have “tempered his work with song.” The young black man likely boarded at the Ocean Grove Day’s, where the second and third floors housed employees. The story goes that Day’s also launched the chocolate-making career of William Hershey, who made his first batch of candy with Wilbur in the Morristown establishment.

More recently, a young waitress penned her “Remembrances of Day’s Past….1949-52.” In addition to the ice cream parlor, by then Day’s operated a full-fledged tearoom and a gift shop that sold jewelry, candy and stationery. It was now open on Sundays, but under existing blue laws ice cream could not be sold apart from a meal — too much of a “pleasurable luxury” if eaten solo, the young woman wrote. She added, “This was not easily explained to non Ocean Grovers and the hard-of-hearing.” Ice cream could, however, be served as dessert following a meal — but only by male waiters.

In 1950, according to these “remembrances,” Day’s was purchased by Mr. and Mrs. Homer Secor, who owned Highgate Hall in Montclair, N.J. A subsequent owner was Ben C. Douglas, a beloved Grover who founded the Citizens Patrol after his son was mugged. Douglas immortalized the years from 1968 to 1988, when he owned and operated the restaurant, in a memoir told through the eyes of his mongrel dog, Rover. It is titled Rover Speaks Out. 

The present owners, Philip Herr II and his wife Karla, bought Day’s in 1992 from Douglas and spent the next five years renovating the building. During that period the restaurant was closed but the ice cream parlor remained open. The Herrs now occupy the two floors where employees once lived, and Mrs. Herr tends the large and colorful garden on the east side of the building.

Dave Fernicola grew up in Elizabeth and lived 20 years in Tom’s River before moving to Ocean Grove in 1992, drawn, he said, by “the sense of community.” For a time he owned and operated the Bath Avenue House, but when he and Teixeira had the opportunity to buy Day’s they formed a business partnership. Both oversee the Starving Artist in the winter, while Fernicola presides over the ice cream business in the summer. He is a familiar sight behind the counter.

A couple years into his new career, Fernicola cemented his dedication with a large tattoo of a three-scoop ice cream cone on his left arm. Business has flourished. Says Fernicola, “If you do what you do and it comes from the heart, people know.”

Day’s back in the day. It is Ocean Grove’s oldest continuously operating business. From Historical Society archives.

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Kim Klein at the Fresh Pik Farm stand, Asbury Farmers' Market

By Eileen Goldfinger (food editor @Blogfinger) and Paul Goldfinger. See the slide show below.

Janice Cvoliga, the farmer’s wife from Fresh Pik Farms in East Windsor, was one of the first vendors to participate in the Saturday Asbury Park Farmers’ Market, which has been held for 12 years at Sunset and Main. She recalls that she was sometimes the only vendor present. But now, the market is having its busiest season ever. There are more farmers and more customers; it has become a happening event. The produce was fresh and beautiful, having been picked last night or this morning. The market goes on from July through October. At the Fresh Pik display, we found a wide variety of produce including corn, onions, peppers, melons and brightly colored flowers—zinnias and cockscomb.

Zinnias and cockscomb at the Fresh Pik Farm stand

We met Tony Pagano, the owner and chef at Uva Italian Restaurant (a top Blogfinger pick) in Bradley Beach. He came early and spent much of his time at the East Gate Farm display. Tony said that he loves to shop at the Asbury Farmers’ Market and that he wished he could keep it a secret. He was having a discussion with farmer Frank Damico of East Gate Farms in Robbinsville, New Jersey as to how to prepare the squash blossoms and the long zucchini.

Tony told us that the Jersey tomatoes this year are “perfect.” He purchased an entire case of them. Frank Damico said that the tomatoes were especially good this summer because of the heat and sunshine — essential ingredients for the production of sugar within the plant. East Gate Farms wins the Blogfinger award for the most unique merchandise, including lemongrass, long squash, Asian bitter melon, Japanese spinach and Purslane.

Miss Joan Martz of the Martz Farm in Matawan was all smiles as the customers kept lining up. Her brother’s farm has been in the family for four generations. Heirloom tomatoes are a specialty, including the miniature fuzzy yellow variety and yellow pear shaped tomatoes. She said heirlooms were sweeter and had thinner skins than regular tomatoes. Joan told us that Jersey beefsteaks are ready-to-eat when the red reaches the stem. Store them on the counter, not in the fridge, and don’t let them get too soft. The Martz display contained a big selection of wonderful goods, including a variety of eggplants. Joan also carried peach pies from Wemrock Farms in Freehold.

There were four young ladies working the Shangri-La Farm display from Howell Township. One of them, farmer Elaine Taylor, had designed a natural insect repellant spray that is effective against flies and mosquitoes (attn: Grovers). Mrs. Taylor is active in the Southard Grange. ( The Southard Grange website) Charlene, an intern from Reed College, was learning how to become a farmer. In addition, they have live bluegrass music at the grange every Tuesday night — open to the public. Besides produce, the ladies were selling Amish baked goods (e.g., carrot cake with rum-soaked fruit). They also had seedless watermelons that weighed a ton. We also noted the celebrity vegetable Okra Winfrey. (Paul’s joke.)

Other items available at the market included flowers, hats, Italian breads, blueberries, Jersey peaches, long red beans, onions and radishes.

The prices are not cheap, but the merchandise is special, and it is fun to go there; check out the customers, including dogs and kids; and, best of all, kibbitz with the farmers. Agriculture is alive and well in the Garden State.

MUSIC. Vegetable music from The Fantasticks.


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