Monthly Archives: January 2011

Old Friends

Twenty years ago an old friend of mine and my dad’s went to see Dad speak at a conference, about Chautauqua. They met afterwards for the first time and we have worked together as consultants. Over the years, I fondly remember our breakfasts at the hotel right down the street from my place. Just us three, and when they went on no-carb diets together without telling me it was very strange to have them order extra eggs, extra bacon and no toast.

Chautauqua brought Pythagoras to us, weeding and putting the lines down on eight clay tennis courts, via a college acquaintance. I don’t remember his name but the old friend above called me this morning about the Chautauqua premiere on PBS. He and his lovely wife will see it this evening. I can’t see it until Wednesday.

I talked to my Dad today, who is doing OK at nearly 80, still working and dealing with age and illness. He had to call me back because he was cooking dinner, spaghetti and meatballs. He puts milk in his meatballs, I’ll have to get the recipe for you, and for me!

Recently my dear husband was putting together a woodworking toolset for our nephew, now eight years old. He looked for items that could be used by a young person and one was from the town I was born in. He sent the piece, an antique, and said if we liked it we should pay for it, and if not send it back. I called him back and it turns out he worked at Chautauqua when I was there. Yes, we kept the item but for him to put it up was just a bit of old-fashioned charm and brotherhood that is Chautauqua.

There are so many stories to tell but I can’t do it all this evening so bid you adieu, Dee

Netflix

Every once in a while my dear husband tucks in a video I may like and now that is Julia Child: The French Chef, disc 3. I remember why I loved her on TV and in her books, and I have many of them, all in storage. Now I have a library card and am eyeing The Way To Cook just to get the recipe in my book for scrapple (I believe it is Uncle Hans City Scrapple). I moved here with none of my cookbooks, which are literary material for me as well as ideas for recipes.

Omelets are next, I skipped the cakes as I don’t bake. Then we’ll send the disc back to Netflix and Julia will be gone. I’d love to think that several chefs are with me on my culinary journey: Julia Child; Simone “Simca” Beck; and James Beard. As to chefs that live today it would be Eric Ripert and Rick Bayless for their tireless efforts to improve their craft. What they do is excellent but they still want to be better and if I was that gifted I’d be flying right now.

My husband endures my culinary passions because he loves dinner, the fact that I actually cook him breakfast and dinner, and that he gets to talk about tech stuff too. He loves Alton Brown because it’s science, so he thinks a robot can cook his dinner. He is learning more about food and cooking, and no robots are involved. Cheers! Dee

Chautauqua

There’s a documentary that will premier tonight on your local PBS channel, http://www.ciweb.org/news/2010/11/11/premiere-date-set-for-pbs-documentary-chautauqua-an-american.html

Chautauqua: An American Narrative. People ask “what is Chautauqua?” First it’s a lake whose name means “bag tied in the middle.” My aunt still lives in Westfield NY on Lake Erie, and Portage Road takes one to Chautauqua lake, where the earliest settlers portaged their canoes 12 miles.

I didn’t grow up there but worked there several summers, the first in a restaurant where I was forced to pay most of my wages to the owner for room and board even though I didn’t live there and never ate there once. I was living in the president’s home, provided by the Institution to my father, who helped preserve and enhance the Chautauqua that visitors see today.

Stories abound but mine are all work-related. After that disastrous summer I joined the program staff and with the hours I worked made much less than I did at the restaurant! The last summer I asked for hourly pay and made enough to pay my part of college tuition. The other kids there were sailing or hanging out in bars but I was working, and loving it. The people I got to meet were well worth 14-hour days. What was my job? Make people happy. Read the contracts and riders and make sure everyone was a go, run a staff of five drivers who brought lecturers, ballerinas, and other stars to their lodging and to the stage. Write gate passes (pre-computer) for hundreds of performers, order roses for divas and deliver them to my father backstage. I just thought of a funny thing – I wrote all my father’s intro’s and in the beginning he’d edit or have me rewrite but when I made it sound like him, it just worked. As president, he had to introduce every major program, from the morning lecture to evening concert.

So what is Chautauqua? Much more than the Methodist church camp it started out as, and the Sunday school teacher haven it became. Teachers used to come in from NYC every summer. Arts, recreation, education, religion, not necessarily in that order. When I was there it always had its own ballet company, opera company, orchestra and resident theatrical company. World-reknowned speakers were brought in, as were soloists in dance, music and theatre. Religion began with a speaker from a different religion every week at a service for up to 8,000 participants and added a song service and lectures during the week at smaller venues. The “practice shacks” housed pianists, violinists, tuba players and although everyone had their own practice space, walking by was a peaceful cacophany.

I can’t tell you what a kid who was brought up there summers would think, as they’d remember Boys & Girls Club and sailing. My brother used to cut B&G and go play chess with old guys at one of the hotels. I remember working and music and lectures and plays and falling asleep in my bed for a few hours to get up and do it again. People wrote in to complain that I used a car for some of my errands but I couldn’t have done my job otherwise.

Now, Chautauqua is a haven for the rich. I’ve been there over the past few years and locals can’t afford it. So, it is a gated community for so-called landed gentry and others who want privacy and don’t mind paying a price for it. When programming is at its best, it does provide a variety of activities for a daily, weekly, or season pass. It would be great to surprise my husband with a ticket to see Clint Black on August 12!

Please see the film and visit Chautauqua. Plan on leaving your car outside and walking a lot, going back over 100 years to small streets, a bell tower with concerts that an old friend used to operate, have lunch at the Athanaeum (two desserts!) and if you’re there on July 4th sit down by the lake and watch the Mayville Fire Department do their annual fireworks. Chautauqua is too many things to tell you here. Cheers, Dee

Living in a Small Town

How would you like it if you only had to pick up a pair of pants that had been hemmed and were charged $20 to park! I let my husband hop out of the car at the curb and drove around and picked him up ten minutes later. We’re locals and as of two days ago we couldn’t drive down our own street because of the Sundance Film Festival.

It’s a powerful festival and I’m glad it exists, as I’m glad Hot Docs exists in Canada (that’s my cousin). But we live here and don’t live the party life, or line up to see stars on the red carpet. We live on a small drive and there are 14′ snowbanks flanking it so one cannot see cars coming. Often there’s a lot of snow and there are no sidewalks so we walk our dog on the street occasionally, otherwise it’s a snow-covered path that we love but need boots. Weekend/week-long ski guests and especially Sundance people who stay here during the Festival drive very fast while talking on their cell phones and don’t care if they frighten locals or their dogs.

So Zoe now has, as of yesterday, an LED collar that lights up or even flashes and we have buttons on our coats that we can turn on as well to make us visible to traffic. Still no visibility from behind but we’ll see what one button does at the back of the leash.

Today, one of our favorite restaurants (I tried a new dish, Steve the owner will be pleased!) was packed at lunch. The crowds will be leaving today but enough people will be around for the next few months skiing to stay busy.

Who are we? We are the locals that allow these enterprises to get through the five months they have to depend on us to carry them through. This year, they know we’re there for them just as they’re here for us. We appreciate all our local farms and businesses. Cheers, Dee

Thanks, Top Chef

Tonight we had 1/3 Buitoni meal, fresh pasta that was prominently displayed at one local market. I wasn’t sure where to look for it but found it quickly. After shoveling snow to grill the past few evenings it was nice to have pasta with pesto and extra parm.

I added grape tomatoes as a side, my husband’s raw and mine sauteed because I can’t eat the skins. It was a quick, very tasty dinner that didn’t use every dish and utensil.

We’ll be glad when the Sundance people leave as they leave trash everywhere, don’t know how to drive and are quite rude to the locals. We are very happy that the businesses we keep in business in the off-months are making money. Thanks for reading, Dee

To The Explainer @ Slate

Sundance is in town and every morning before the skiers get here there are loud sounds and thumps and now even the dog knows it’s avalanche control, mortars set off so that skiers won’t die under a pile of snow. I sent this to the Explainer at http://www.slate.com

Let’s wait for an answer. Cheers, Dee

# # #

We live here so hear the mortars go off mornings after a snow dump, so what do they do and where do they place them? Are they moved every day? How do they know where to place them?

And since everyone is watching films this week, let’s talk about something else, OK probably not my Park City Entitlement Theory, that rich people get richer by exploiting everyone around here and cut in front of you in line in person, in a car merge and spend ten minutes explaining to a waiter that the menu has to be quick because they have a screening they must get to, so they must make the waiter listen for … we left. There are helicopters here ferrying in stars and probably disturbing wildlife and causing avalanches.

I’d be happy to make your day and just ask you about blowing stuff up, as in mountain mortars.

Cheers! Dee

Essential Pantry

I notice that a lot of cooks are doing this now, telling viewers or readers one thing at a time about how to build a pantry.

Confession: I was so scared to start writing this blog I worked for weeks getting together my essential cookbook collection and then the pantry collection. I believe cookbooks spanned four episodes and the pantry, five, but no-one reads them. No-one refers to them and I wish you would.

Please let me know how I can make these integral pages a meaningful part of your life. Yes, I have to redo my home page and will do so to make it easier for you to access this information. Signing off for now, Dee

Free Sandwich

There was a great sandwich place next door to my office on E. 41st Street looking at the great library’s lions. I stood in line for a sandwich at least a couple of days a week for a break from my desk. The music was always soothing as well. One day the owner called out a free sandwich the next day for anyone who could name that tune.

This just came to my mind a couple of decades later. It’s the only thing I’ve ever won and was worth less than $5! From somewhere inside me my long-term memory called out “Offenbach, Orpheus in the Underworld!” Yes, after I left the shop the owner confirmed the name of the song and I won myself a sandwich.

I write this for the power of learning while young and retaining in long-term memory. We were exposed to classical music and my favorite was Peter and the Wolf by Tchaikovsky, before I succumbed to “pop,” which included Frank Sinatra and Rosemary Clooney. As a matter of fact, when I was really fussy as a baby my parents used to play Jackie Gleason’s “Music, Martinis and Memories.” If that didn’t work they’d drive me around the block and I was a goner.

So, does anyone have inventive sandwich ideas? My husband is anti-sandwich and I want to change his mind. My favorite sandwich was on 12-grain bread with sprouts, brie, raw mushrooms, tomato, and spinach. Second to that is rare roast beef with horseradish mayonnaise. I’d probably add some arugula, tomato and fontina. On rye or pumpernickel.

My husband goes out for lunch with his work friends on weekdays and out with me on the weekends. I cook breakfast and dinner, and lunch for myself during the week. Any ideas would be welcome. Jim is allergic to fish but I’m game for that! Thanks, Dee

Stalwarts

I love that word. I wanted to call it “favorites” but that won out for several reasons. First, we spent six years in a state I never envisioned living in that inured me to air conditioning. Let’s call it Texas. In my youth our family leap-frogged around the country as my father got promoted. So my husband and I are stalwarts in that we pick up and move when needed and make do with our surroundings.

If we’re in a place a while (in this economy, that is a feat), we get to know people. We get friends from home, friends from work and businesses that treat us well because we’re good customers.

Vacation towns are notoriusly skewed toward that crowd at the peril of the locals, but when we told our local Mexican place that we’d probably cook throughout the Sundance film festival he said, “We’ve always got a table for you.” When I walk into our drycleaner they don’t ask for my phone number, my husband’s shirts are already on the rack and they say “Hello, Miss Dee.” When we walk into Maxwell’s (NY Pizza) there’s a hug from gorgeous hunk Ryan and manager John always checks in.

To be a local in a resort town, two years is a century. We treat people well and are treated well in return, no matter the crowds. We’d like to thank all of our favorites here, and give a thumbs down to those who thought we weren’t good enough to receive service we pay for, and those who tried to cheat us. Luckily the bad folks are few but would sue if I revealed their scams.

My advice is to walk, and talk to neighbors. Dog owners have to go out several times a day. If their dog and other dogs like them they’re probably good folks so ask them where to go to dinner or the best place to find whatever you need.

I was in Scotland for less than a week as I tried to find the lay of the land, where to buy stamps outside the post office and my usual sneaky tricks of finding the quickest walk anywhere, and was a target of Japanese tourists from four days on. With my dark hair they must have pegged me as a non-Scot and I looked like I knew what I was doing. Wrong, not on non-Scot but in knowing what I was doing. In a day or two dealing with “tourists” when I was one was to tell them what I knew and that sufficed.

With three months under my belt I knew the restaurants and how to live and we had a going-away party at our favorite restaurant our last evening there. My husband and the entire restaurant sang “Deep In The Heart of Texas,” and he doesn’t drink. When they asked for an encore it brought the first verse of Marty Robbins’ “El Paso.” Those of you that have read me from the start know that led to pdxknitterati introducing me to Juni Fisher and her take on one of her mentor’s tales, El Paso, with Red Velvet Slippers. That evening and blog post changed our lives.

Juni sang at a surprise party for Nanny’s birthday and we’ve been in touch ever since. I don’t know what the dictionary says about stalwarts but I can say they’re always there when needed. When family is needed I know who to call. No-one around here knows how to find a capon but I do (and thank you Wapsie Farms for when you were in the capon business). I love people and have sacrificed my time and efforts for them. In return the stalwarts have come to bat for me on occasion, and for that I am grateful.

The first time I met my mother-in-law I brought my best somber dress to the festivities. It is a lace-covered sheath with Mandarin collar and buttons that were fabric-covered. When I entered my guest room there was a gift, a gold painted frame. She said she had buttons that would dress up my dress for the holiday and asked that if it didn’t work out with her son could she get the buttons back.

The antique buttons made the dress. I changed halfway through Thanksgiving to non-funereal clothing and we will celebrate our eighth wedding anniversary this week. No, I didn’t give the buttons back and still have the dress. Jim’s mother is next to stalwart in the encyclopedia. Love you, M!

There’s always something to be said for “regulars” at a restaurant or other business. More important, friends who pull through when needed. I would like to thank family, friends and others who care and go the extra mile. Cheers! Dee

Food Poisoning

I was sick all day yesterday. It wasn’t the flu. I went over what I ate and forgot that I always cook/make my own lunch and I was running really late so picked up a sandwich and took it home, five minutes from checkout to opening the sandwich. Jim always says we never become ill eating my food.

There is no cross-contamination in our kitchen, and I wash my hands every time it’s needed. If I could nail it to a slice of turkey (cooked to the wrong temperature or left out too long) or shred of lettuce (prep cook didn’t wash hands) I’d do so but can’t, only know what I ate the last 24 hours and that my husband wasn’t sick.

Yes, we do have favorite restaurants that are very mindful of their ingredients and preparation (and, I hope, storage). We don’t normally get to see those kitchens but enjoy the results of their creative efforts. In the meantime I’m at the stove, frig and pantry for our family’s needs. Hope you are as well! Cheers, Dee