Happy St. Patrick's Day!
What? It was last week? Are you sure?
Hmm, ok. Sorry about that! I've been really busy and fighting a persistent cold-not-quite-a-cold-not-allergies bug and time has gotten away from me.
My sense of time isn't helped by the never ending scenery outside my window. WINTER. SNOW. COLD. The only indication that spring is waiting impatiently in the wings for winter (the over-staying party guest) to leave, is the lengthening day light. And the birds are doing a lot more singing.
I did make the requisite corned beef, colcannon and Irish soda bread last week. I like to braise my corned beef in the oven, not simmered on the stove. It was good but salty. It was a new brand I've not had before and I should have soaked it in cold water for an hour or so before cooking. Colcannon is an unholy marriage of sauteed cabbage, onions and mashed potatoes with a whole lot of butter, salt, pepper and freshly chopped parsley. I almost felt like I needed to go to Confession after that.
When I was a kid I spent almost 10 years in Irish dance class. Every Saturday and one night a week I'd head over to Mrs. McNamara's house where several kids were taking dance lessons and we'd learn new hornpipes, jigs, reels and line dances. My Mom made me a couple of dancing outfits, my favorite was a teal blue with elaborate embroidery on the circle skirt, chest and yellow shoulder cape which were designs from the Book of Kells. I danced in the Chicago St. Pat's parade, a number of Irish bars and restaurants (Hackneys!) and after we moved from Chicago to Milwaukee, I danced in the Milwaukee Folk Fest, St. Pat's parade and at other venues. It was a lot of fun. I also competed in several feis, (pronounced "fesh") which are dance competitions. I outgrew my favorite dress, got a job and lost interest as I moved through high school. I had friends in High School who continued their studies and one went on to do some professional dance work in the Irish dance community.
My Dad took great pride in being Irish. Ironically, he wasn't very Irish. He never knew his father's side of the family, he was the son of a single mother. He had spotty memories of their family and always referred to them as "Buckley" which is an Irish name. My Dad's last name (and mine) was an invention of sorts so my Grandmother could protect herself from small-town ridicule when she had my Dad...she went from Miss Sorg to Mrs. Adams. Her beau's last name was Adams, but his mother's last name was Buckley. My Dad extrapolated that to his desire to be half-Irish. My Grandma was always very tight-lipped about my Dad's father's family and after she passed, we found very few papers related to his patronage. I know my Dad had always hoped to fill in the missing pieces of his family. His mother's family was German, full of rich names like Harkenrider, Sorg, Landstoffer and Martiney.
After my Mom died, my Dad's health slipped from precarious to dire to doomed. I was with him every single day for over 4 months and when you have that much time with someone, you start to look for things to do. I decided to spend some time researching his family history and through the magic of the Internet and Ancestry.com, I was able to introduce my Dad to his Grandfather and Grandmother, his aunts and uncles but unfortunately, not one of his own father. We discovered where the family lived, where his people came from and about the devout nature of their faith. (They were reform Ana-Baptists, closely related to the Amish in their beliefs but not necessarily adhering to their non-modern lifestyle.) I was unable to find a photo of his own father, but my Dad was so happy to finally have found pieces to his family puzzle. He learned he bore a striking resemblance to his Grandfather.
My Dad learned that his family wasn't named Buckley, but rather, Buckey which is an Americanized version of the Franco-German Bouquet. One distant relative did hail from Northern Ireland, which pleased him. He learned he had a relative named for Abraham Lincoln. He had another that fought in the war of 1812. He had other relatives who were part of local militia who fought in the War of Independence and further back, discovered a relative who came to the Colonies from England and lived for a time in Plymouth before leaving to found a new community in New Jersey.
More importantly, he learned that his mother and father weren't permitted to marry because of religious differences. I think my Dad always felt a sense of abandonment, that his father walked away from he and his mother. My Dad was raised more by his Grandma Mary and for the first few years, Grandpa Mike as his mother worked at the local dairy as a butter stamper. Grandpa Mike died when my dad was almost 6, he'd owned a ditch-digging business and the Depression had been very hard on them. He had a massive stroke one day and that was it. My Dad said he could remember blazing rows between Grandma Mary and the "other" family when they would come to visit, Grandma Mary saying "no one was going to take her Baby Joey away from them!" Grandma Mary was the oldest of 11 children and no doubt, fiercely protective of her own.
My Dad always said I reminded him of Grandma Mary. I have her sense of humor, her love of food and cooking and no-nonsense approach to life. I never had the chance to meet her, she passed away less than a year before I was born. My Dad sat with her in the hospital as she lay dying. He said she'd had a ruptured appendix and she died from sepsis. She would have been in her early '80s, and up until that time, had never been sick a day in her life. I have a number of her keepsakes, her china hutch from the 1906 Sears catalogue, her wind-up mantle clock, her own Grandmother's immigrant trunk. They have always felt familiar to me, as if I'd had been the one to pick them out and use them.
When I researched Mary and Mike's sides of the family, (Harkenrider, Sorg, Landstoffer, Martiney) I discovered the families originated in the French-German area known as Alsace-Lorraine and the Black Forest. Hmmm, that explains my love of Black Forest Torte, Quiche Lorraine, beer, wine, pork in every form and cheese!!
As HB and I were exploring options for a vacation this year, we were looking at a trip to Alaska with some friends who are also celebrating their 10 year anniversary. We discussed all of our day trips and activities and while we would like to see Alaska someday, we just couldn't find enough enthusiasm to engage in activities that either make us seasick, car sick or suffer crippling vertigo. So we started talking about going to Europe. After all the ancestry research, I'm now familiar with names such as Strasbourg and Kehl and Colmar and the Rhine. We've decided to go on a winter river cruise down the Rhine from Amsterdam to Basel. It intrigues me to no end to know that what goes around comes around. Hopefully somewhere long the way I'll have a chance to tread lightly on my homeland and feel the spirit of my long-ago relatives in the air.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Trial Through Fire Sale
I have a post started and it's sitting in draft mode. I don't know what or how to say what I want to say, so it's easier (lazier) to just leave it sit. My Mom's birthday was Friday, yesterday was the 2nd anniversary of her passing and I have so much I want to share but have hit a wall. It's not an emotional wall, so much as a concrete creative block. I wanted to write about some recipes, the weather, some work stuff, but it just seems kind of trite in light of these anniversaries.
Yesterday passed without much effort. Friday passed without much effort as well. I have learned in two years that the anticipation of the "big events" is far greater than the emotions that come on the actual days.
I have no intention of turning this blog into a doom and gloom sympathy and grief blog. I enjoy (and hope you do to) reading about recipes, cooking and other random observations. But my experience two years ago was so earth-shaking and world-rocking that it's very hard to tease it out and ignore it. It doesn't help that this is the window of time where everything went to hell and there are so many triggers that ignoring the elephant in the room just leaves me stepping in what the elephant leaves.
My Mom would have been proud of me yesterday. I enjoyed a marathon shopping trip to Kohls. I used my 30% off bonus, $10 coupon for men's wear and scored a boatload of Kohls Bucks.
Kohs was one of her absolute favorite stores, living in Milwaukee during the early days of Kohls department stores. She always took great pride in finding great deals, 30% off, senior discounts, Kohls bucks--she would joke they had to pay her to take merchandise out of their store. When I first moved to Rochester, my Mom was distraught to discover we didn't have a Kohls. She sent several letters to corporate and lobbied hard. Of course when it was announced a Kohls would be opening, she assumed full responsibility.
In the days before her death, HB and I went to the Kohls up the street from their house so I could take a little break. When I'd run home to be with my Mom for her last doctor's visit, I had only packed clothing for a few days. Little did I know I'd still be there two weeks later, facing the end of her life and subsequent funeral with only a pair of jeans and a few tops. Walking in the front door I started feeling this oppressive weight bearing down on me, almost to the point of a physical burden on my shoulders. HB headed off to look in the men's department and I browsed through clothing. My heart wasn't in shopping, but I tried to focus on finding a few things.
HB and I met up in the center aisle and wandered over to housewares. As hard as I tried to stay focused and just enjoy a little freedom from the dread of what was coming and the stress of caring for my terminally ill Mom, I was having sneaking thoughts drifting through my mind like the smell of smoke and you can't pinpoint where it's coming from.
Mom will never shop here again. You'll never hear her talk about her great deals again. She loved Kohls. She's dying. You are going to be a motherless daughter. You will never see her again. Oh my God.
Up until this point, I'd handled the news of her terminal situation, agreeing to care for her at home in her final days and scrambling to finalize POA and other end of life issues without tears. It happened so quickly and so matter-of-factly that I guess I hadn't been in any condition other than shock. I am a strong person and needed to be strong. My Mom was dying, my Dad was in terrible shape and needed me and I shoved my own emotions aside just to muscle through. Apparently the months of worry and weeks of concern and days of dread finally snowballed into an avalanche.
Without warning, and without any ability to control myself, I burst into tears. There comes a point where emotions well up and take over and you are absolutely powerless to control them. There I was standing between Rachel Ray Pans and Calphalon, completely losing myself to hysterics. HB was a few rows down and took one look at me and came running. Other customers eyed me, probably wondering why anyone would cry over a sale.
HB asked what was wrong and how do you explain something so random as my Mom will never shop at Kohls again?, when in truth my Mom is dying and I can't stop it. I am facing a life without the one person who was always there for me, always my greatest champion, the one person who could hold a mirror up to me and my life and tell me what I needed to hear even if I didn't want to hear it. My Mom, who battled 6 years of infertility to have me. My Mom, who fought so hard to be a good Mom to me in spite of her own horrible upbringing and her Mother's abuse. This complicated, prickly, difficult woman who gave me life and helped me be a strong powerful smart woman was leaving me and I wasn't ready to let her go. My Mom, who frustrated me beyond words, but whom I knew loved me more than life itself was going away and I would never see her again, never hear her voice again, never share another thing with me and who would never be there for me again. And she would never shop at Kohls again.
I was afraid I'd be banned for life from Kohls. It's bad for business when someone is hysterically losing it in housewares. I felt like a complete idiot. Maybe that's why I need to share so much of this here, in my blog. That my feeling like an idiot, My Mom will never shop at Kohls again...while kind of random, is a way of dealing with something much greater and much more frightening. Getting it out here validates what I went through, remembers he story and gives me a place to share something that I didn't have anyone to share with at the time.
There's no dramatic ending to the story. HB held me while I cried. I dried my tears. I made a purchase and we went home. I didn't tell my Mom about my meltdown. She didn't need to know. I know she was worried about me, but I was strong for her. She had given me the gift of caring for her and I needed to continue honoring that with courage.
My receipt from yesterday reads, "You saved $745.12" I'd like to think somewhere, my Mom is laughing and thinking I could have done better.
Yesterday passed without much effort. Friday passed without much effort as well. I have learned in two years that the anticipation of the "big events" is far greater than the emotions that come on the actual days.
I have no intention of turning this blog into a doom and gloom sympathy and grief blog. I enjoy (and hope you do to) reading about recipes, cooking and other random observations. But my experience two years ago was so earth-shaking and world-rocking that it's very hard to tease it out and ignore it. It doesn't help that this is the window of time where everything went to hell and there are so many triggers that ignoring the elephant in the room just leaves me stepping in what the elephant leaves.
My Mom would have been proud of me yesterday. I enjoyed a marathon shopping trip to Kohls. I used my 30% off bonus, $10 coupon for men's wear and scored a boatload of Kohls Bucks.
Kohs was one of her absolute favorite stores, living in Milwaukee during the early days of Kohls department stores. She always took great pride in finding great deals, 30% off, senior discounts, Kohls bucks--she would joke they had to pay her to take merchandise out of their store. When I first moved to Rochester, my Mom was distraught to discover we didn't have a Kohls. She sent several letters to corporate and lobbied hard. Of course when it was announced a Kohls would be opening, she assumed full responsibility.
In the days before her death, HB and I went to the Kohls up the street from their house so I could take a little break. When I'd run home to be with my Mom for her last doctor's visit, I had only packed clothing for a few days. Little did I know I'd still be there two weeks later, facing the end of her life and subsequent funeral with only a pair of jeans and a few tops. Walking in the front door I started feeling this oppressive weight bearing down on me, almost to the point of a physical burden on my shoulders. HB headed off to look in the men's department and I browsed through clothing. My heart wasn't in shopping, but I tried to focus on finding a few things.
HB and I met up in the center aisle and wandered over to housewares. As hard as I tried to stay focused and just enjoy a little freedom from the dread of what was coming and the stress of caring for my terminally ill Mom, I was having sneaking thoughts drifting through my mind like the smell of smoke and you can't pinpoint where it's coming from.
Mom will never shop here again. You'll never hear her talk about her great deals again. She loved Kohls. She's dying. You are going to be a motherless daughter. You will never see her again. Oh my God.
Up until this point, I'd handled the news of her terminal situation, agreeing to care for her at home in her final days and scrambling to finalize POA and other end of life issues without tears. It happened so quickly and so matter-of-factly that I guess I hadn't been in any condition other than shock. I am a strong person and needed to be strong. My Mom was dying, my Dad was in terrible shape and needed me and I shoved my own emotions aside just to muscle through. Apparently the months of worry and weeks of concern and days of dread finally snowballed into an avalanche.
Without warning, and without any ability to control myself, I burst into tears. There comes a point where emotions well up and take over and you are absolutely powerless to control them. There I was standing between Rachel Ray Pans and Calphalon, completely losing myself to hysterics. HB was a few rows down and took one look at me and came running. Other customers eyed me, probably wondering why anyone would cry over a sale.
HB asked what was wrong and how do you explain something so random as my Mom will never shop at Kohls again?, when in truth my Mom is dying and I can't stop it. I am facing a life without the one person who was always there for me, always my greatest champion, the one person who could hold a mirror up to me and my life and tell me what I needed to hear even if I didn't want to hear it. My Mom, who battled 6 years of infertility to have me. My Mom, who fought so hard to be a good Mom to me in spite of her own horrible upbringing and her Mother's abuse. This complicated, prickly, difficult woman who gave me life and helped me be a strong powerful smart woman was leaving me and I wasn't ready to let her go. My Mom, who frustrated me beyond words, but whom I knew loved me more than life itself was going away and I would never see her again, never hear her voice again, never share another thing with me and who would never be there for me again. And she would never shop at Kohls again.
I was afraid I'd be banned for life from Kohls. It's bad for business when someone is hysterically losing it in housewares. I felt like a complete idiot. Maybe that's why I need to share so much of this here, in my blog. That my feeling like an idiot, My Mom will never shop at Kohls again...while kind of random, is a way of dealing with something much greater and much more frightening. Getting it out here validates what I went through, remembers he story and gives me a place to share something that I didn't have anyone to share with at the time.
There's no dramatic ending to the story. HB held me while I cried. I dried my tears. I made a purchase and we went home. I didn't tell my Mom about my meltdown. She didn't need to know. I know she was worried about me, but I was strong for her. She had given me the gift of caring for her and I needed to continue honoring that with courage.
My receipt from yesterday reads, "You saved $745.12" I'd like to think somewhere, my Mom is laughing and thinking I could have done better.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
A+ Chicken Tetrazzini Presented Without Words. Ha!
Yum yum!
(Ok, I do have a few words. I like fresh mushrooms and sauteed 8 oz of sliced fresh mushrooms in with 8 diced sauteed chicken thighs (with olive oil.) I sauteed the green pepper in the butter for the sauce. I reduce the amount of butter to 5 T instead of 8. I also realized after I started that my lonely lemon went bad, so I subbed white wine (always a winner!) for the lemon. You just need a little acid to cut all the fat. I imagine a dash of cider vinegar would work too. You could also use rotisserie chicken from the market. I had thawed thighs and went with that.
This recipe halves easily. But why? Leftovers are so tasty!
*Edited to add: If you click on the photos they will enlarge. That way you can view (and copy!) the recipe. It's hard to see in the smaller viewing format of the blog page.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Short and Sweet and Tangy
Nothing like a big cliffhanger then a week of radio silence, huh?
Sorry about that. This week has been crazy insane busy and I haven't had time to come up a suitable continuation of the story. I'll get back to it at some point. Here's a quick short post to hold you over until I have time to get to the bigger posts.
We dodged the BIG SNOW that plagued much of the Midwest and east coast this week. My folk's house in Milwaukee got dumped on, as much as we could tell from our security cameras. Glad we weren't there, it looked really heavy and wet. We still have quite a bit of snow lingering here but the days are getting longer and the sun is a lot warmer.
This time of year makes me antsy for spring and summer and flowers and gardening and green and flowers and the good summer smells...so I tend to splurge and buy fresh flowers to brighten up my kitchen. We have a Trader Joes in town and they sell really nice long-lasting cut flowers for crazy cheap. Last weekend I picked up a bouquet of alstroemeria and some Asian lilies for under $10. I took some pics of them with my hipstamatic phone app and they turned out pretty good.
These guys have been hanging out all week. The other morning there were 8 in the woods. I am so excited for all the new little fawns who are going to be nibbling and chomping their way through my hostas this summer. And herb gardens and annual beds and veggies and and and. NOT. They are fun to watch but it's hard not to google "venison recipes..."
(And I just re-read this post and it looks like I'm shilling for fun and profit. I'm not. I'm just lazy and don't feel like typing "famous uppity organic grocery story" and "famous uppity handbag company..."
We don't have big plans for the weekend. I don't know that we have plans at all. We were incredibly lazy last weekend and I never left the house on Sunday. Sometimes that's good enough. I did make some interesting recipes, last Friday I whipped up some veggie and shrimp and veggie egg rolls. I used a different recipe and I won't be using it again. The original recipe that I like calls for a little cornstarch to be mixed in with the vegetable mixture prior to stuffing the wrappers. This one didn't and I found the steam and liquid from the veggies caused the oil to splatter like there was no tomorrow. It was so bad I had to cook one egg roll at a time. The cornstarch binds the liquid just enough to prevent that. I also made my Mom's A+ Chicken Tetrazzini. It's delicious but it it makes a lot and is really rich. (Lots 'o butter and half and half. OOF) I also made Crazy Chocolate Cake which is fun and easy. I took pictures and at some point I'll post them here.
In the meantime, if you're looking for an easy crock pot recipe, try this recipe for BBQ Beef. My chef here at work gave it to me and I love it. The sauce is very loose, more like au jus than thick BBQ sauce but the flavor is outstanding.
Sorry about that. This week has been crazy insane busy and I haven't had time to come up a suitable continuation of the story. I'll get back to it at some point. Here's a quick short post to hold you over until I have time to get to the bigger posts.
We dodged the BIG SNOW that plagued much of the Midwest and east coast this week. My folk's house in Milwaukee got dumped on, as much as we could tell from our security cameras. Glad we weren't there, it looked really heavy and wet. We still have quite a bit of snow lingering here but the days are getting longer and the sun is a lot warmer.
This time of year makes me antsy for spring and summer and flowers and gardening and green and flowers and the good summer smells...so I tend to splurge and buy fresh flowers to brighten up my kitchen. We have a Trader Joes in town and they sell really nice long-lasting cut flowers for crazy cheap. Last weekend I picked up a bouquet of alstroemeria and some Asian lilies for under $10. I took some pics of them with my hipstamatic phone app and they turned out pretty good.
I shot these against the blue-green wall in our laundry room.
This is closer to their true color without the hue mixing in hisptamatic. Nice dose of pink for dreary end of winter, don't you think?
I also worked on curing my winter-blues-cabin-fever with a tiny bit of retail therapy. I got an email from Coach saying they were having a big sale! Who am I to say no to a good deal?
Mama's got a brand new bag.
(And I just re-read this post and it looks like I'm shilling for fun and profit. I'm not. I'm just lazy and don't feel like typing "famous uppity organic grocery story" and "famous uppity handbag company..."
We don't have big plans for the weekend. I don't know that we have plans at all. We were incredibly lazy last weekend and I never left the house on Sunday. Sometimes that's good enough. I did make some interesting recipes, last Friday I whipped up some veggie and shrimp and veggie egg rolls. I used a different recipe and I won't be using it again. The original recipe that I like calls for a little cornstarch to be mixed in with the vegetable mixture prior to stuffing the wrappers. This one didn't and I found the steam and liquid from the veggies caused the oil to splatter like there was no tomorrow. It was so bad I had to cook one egg roll at a time. The cornstarch binds the liquid just enough to prevent that. I also made my Mom's A+ Chicken Tetrazzini. It's delicious but it it makes a lot and is really rich. (Lots 'o butter and half and half. OOF) I also made Crazy Chocolate Cake which is fun and easy. I took pictures and at some point I'll post them here.
In the meantime, if you're looking for an easy crock pot recipe, try this recipe for BBQ Beef. My chef here at work gave it to me and I love it. The sauce is very loose, more like au jus than thick BBQ sauce but the flavor is outstanding.
Chef Eric's BBQ Beef
3-4 Pound Beef Roast, preferably chuck or bottom round. If it's more than 3" thick, cut into two smaller pieces.
1 large onion cut into rings
1 Bottle Chili Sauce
1 pound light brown sugar
2 c. low salt/no salt beef stock/broth
1 small can diced green chilies-undrained
3 T your favorite BBQ spice blend (Weber makes a good sweet tangy BBQ blend)
Lay the onion rings in the bottom of the crock pot.
Rub the beef on all sides with the BBQ spice blend. Any leftover spice blend can be used in the sauce.
Put the beef on top of the onions.
In a bowl combine the chili sauce, brown sugar, broth, chilies and remaining spice blend. Mix well and pour over the beef.
Cover and cook on low for 8 hours or on medium for 5-6. Do not remove the cover during cooking.
Carefully remove the beef from the liquid. Shred and set aside.
Carefully strain the cooking liquid into a mesh strainer and reserve the liquid. Discard the solids.
Serve the shredded beef on toasted hard rolls with a drizzle of the au jus and serve au jus on the side to dip. These are sweet, tangy and delicious.
*Edited to add: there is nothing wrong with the solids, you are welcome to reserve them and use them as a condiment on the sandwich. Neither HB nor I can eat onions of any quantity so I just strain them out as they don't have much flavor left after cooking for hours.
*Edited to add: there is nothing wrong with the solids, you are welcome to reserve them and use them as a condiment on the sandwich. Neither HB nor I can eat onions of any quantity so I just strain them out as they don't have much flavor left after cooking for hours.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)