Sunday Blunch. With Friends.

Good times, with good friends. What could be better? Well, add in some good food, wine, and beer, and now you’re really talking.

Because we are in the country, a few times a year, we have a Sunday lunch or brunch at out place for “city friends”. Dinners can be a bit more problematic because of where we live. We are 15 minutes to the interstate, and when the sun goes down, it’s DARK outside. I mean really dark. So as an alternative to dinners, we often do brunch or lunch. They usually go from about noon to four, have a few courses and accompanying wines, and are great fun. Folks can eat, enjoy the country, and be back to DC in about an hour.

A couple of weeks ago, we did a “blunch” with a twist. We combined with another couple and, after coming up with a menu, decided to try and pair both beers and wines with each course. Cathy and I paired the wines, our friends paired the beers. We each picked some of the courses, traded recipes, and had almost as much fun testing the recipes with various drinks, as we did hosting the actual blunch. When all was said and done, we had five courses, six beers, and six wines (see the menu in the accompanying photo).

The day of the blunch dawned sunny and clear. After appetizers outside, the 20 of us adjourned into the house for the rest of the meal. As the afternoon progressed, the talking got louder, the laughter more rich, and the sense of “family” increased. There were discussions about which beer was better, why this wine worked well , and the food we were eating (“There were brussels sprout in that salad? No way – I hate brussels sprout, but loved that salad….”). Unfortunately, the afternoon finally ended and our friends helped us clean up the dishes and the house, and then make their way back to the city. The blunch was fun, we were exhuasted, and we made our way to an early bed that night.

The next day we received a thank-you email from one of our guests. His note to us:

     I think it will take 2 days to recover from that wonderful tasting event today….1 day to get over all that I ate and drank……(yes, no one forced me) and another day to let the great feelings and laughs with such great friends  subside …..thanks to you all for such great fun.

And I thought about it, and he was right. The food and beverages were good, and the reason we got together. But what made the day was the celebration of life, the laughter, the talking, and spending time with such good friends. How do you top that?

Later, we were back to cleaning stalls, walking dogs, and our usual life. But I think back to the blunch and what a great celebration of our friendships it was. Very good friends gave us a couple of beer mugs several years ago on the occasion of their wedding. There was a quote from Yeats on them:

     “Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, 

       And say my glory was I had such friends.”

Yeats said it way better than I ever could…..

The City of Light.

Back in the 80s, Cath and I travelled to Paris, and France in general, multiple times. Sometimes alone, other times with friends or family, and once to attend a friend’s wedding. We were stationed in Germany with the Army at the time and it was a relatively easy drive or train trip.

I remember before we went, that various people told us how rude the French were, and that this was particularly true of the Parisians. We found just the opposite to be true. People were friendly, talked with us, and helped us a couple of times when we got lost. We spoke no French, but between our English and German, were able to get by (once while lost on the way to a wedding, I couldn’t understand why the Frenchman wasn’t understanding my questions…I mean, I put a ‘le’ in front of the German word for church (Kirche)).

We had great fun on all of our trips and visited sites both famous and local. We loved the food, enjoyed the wine, and I had my first Pernod. We drove in the madness of the traffic circle that surrounds the Arc de Triomphe. We walked in the parks hand in hand.

Here in Virginia, we have a small painting that we bought from a street artist in the Montmartre area on one of those trips. It’s only a small painting, but we still enjoy it to this day. In the future, I know I will have mixed memories when I look at it – the great fun we had in Paris in the 80s, and now, the horrific events of last night.

As most of the world was “a little bit American” when 9-11 happened, I know many of us are “a little bit French” today. It’s a shame that it takes a tragedy to bring us all a little bit closer.

Veterans Day –

A Blue Star, a Flag, and a Letter

Veterans Day is tomorrow, and although I am a veteran, on this day, I usually think back to my father, and various uncles.  This year, I’m thinking about a bit more.

Sometime after Dad died, my mom gave me a “yearbook” of his from the 60^th Infantry Regiment, in the 9^th Infantry Division. Dad was in that unit in WWII. The book was published in 1942, before they shipped out. Dad had gone home in August of ’42 on furlough for a visit, and evidently left the book behind with my grandma. Inside the book, I found the Blue Star, an American Flag and a letter from my grandmother, all shown in the attached photo.

The Blue Star was my Grandmothers. In fact, she would have had two in her window during World War II – one for my dad, and one for my Uncle Mick, who was in the Navy. Those who lost someone in the war would have displayed Gold Stars.

The Flag. Well, we aren’t sure on the story of the flag. It has 48 stars and is torn and stained with something – Blood? Rust? We aren’t sure. One version is that my dad was carrying it with him when he was wounded. Another version is that Grandma had it hanging in the window, along with the Blue Stars.

The Letter was from my grandma to my dad, who was then 19, and was written about 3 months before he took part in the invasion of North Africa. It’s hard to read the letter in the photo, so I’ve transcribed it here…..

                                                                                                  Ottawa, Ill

                                                                                                  August 15, 1942

My Wonderful boy,

        I am alone now. All are gone somewhere, so my thoughts are with you son. I am sorry I broke down when you left, but I could not help it. My heart is almost broke.

       I have always been a Father and Mother to you. I have went hungry and cold many a time for you children, but it was worth it to me. May God bless and protect you, where ever you go. I hope to live till all you children are old boys and girls. I will close now and say Good Night. With all the love in the world,

                                                                                    Mother

The letter is so simple, and yet so powerful. It makes me think about the fact that Veteran’s Day isn’t just about the veterans, but also the families of those veterans, and the things they have given us. Today, as we thank our veterans, let’s also think about their families and thank them for the sacrifices they have made as well.

In today’s world, with no draft, many folk have no connection to the military, or what “being in the military” means for the soldier, or his or her family.  Spend some time on Veterans Day and think about it.  Then, maybe, spend more than just Veterans Day thanking those who have served, and their families.

What I miss most from work….

…… Is the people. I’m mostly retired, and I’m loving it. I don’t miss the commute, the work, the late nights, the stress of numbers, making my numbers, the people problems, going after new business, completing a project, helping customers solve problems, or solving the challenges of business. What I miss is the people. The good people. The ones you loved, the ones you solved the problems with, the ones in the trenches with you, the ones you worked with to tell the story of the numbers.

I’ve had the great good fortune to work with a lot of wonderful people over the course of my life, both in the Army, and in the civilian world. I know it’s obvious, but when you work with good people, it makes everything else easier, and it also makes it more productive, and more fun. In the Army, we use to say “Mission first, people always”. At the couple of companies I worked for, I always tried to make taking care of people a “core value”. It seems so simple, but so many people don’t understand it.

I had the chance to have a lunch with a couple of those people this week. It had been awhile, and it was great to catch up. We talked about the old days, and about the issues they are dealing with, and solving today. I don’t miss the game, but I dearly miss working with both of them at different times in my career. They made it fun to go to work in the morning, to solve problems, to confront the issues, to commiserate about the craziness around us at various times.

I’m back at the farm now, and they are back in their offices. I know they are doing good work, because that is what they do. I’ll enjoy my life here, and the things Cathy and I are doing, but I miss them, and watching them make a difference.

 
Garlic, ginger, cayenne peppers; 

cumin seeds, cinnamon stick, turmeric, cumin powder, cayenne, garam masala; 

onions, tomatos, yogurt, slivered almonds….

Can you smell it? I can. I can almost mentally transfer myself to a bazaar somewhere. Heady aromas…noonday heat….the buzz and hubbub of people wandering about, some with a purpose, some without….

Growing up in the Midwest, I can’t remember ever eating a curry. We ate lots of good solid comfort food, especially in the fall and winter. There was mom’s spaghetti, chicken and ravioli, or meatloaf and mashed potatoes; Uncle Mick’s vegetable soup recipe; and just about anything with dad’s hash browns. In retrospect, it was all good, but not especially spicy.  

After moving overseas with the Army, my eating became more varied. I think I had my first Indian curry in London, on a trip in the mid eighties. After that, I’d have a curry dish when we were out to dinner at an Indian, or Vietnamese restaurant. We still didn’t have curries at home, mostly because Cathy got sick as a child when her grandmother made chicken and dumplings for the family one year, and for some odd reason, decided to spice it up with half a can of “curry powder”. Some recipes don’t work so well as “fusion food”, and the great curried chicken and dumplings experiment was one of those failures.

Cathy does like and use cumin though. As a matter of fact, her chili has a significant amount of cumin in it, and it’s damned good. Just about every time we have it, we decide it’s the best batch ever.

Which brings me to the present. A couple of weeks ago, I came across a recipe in the NY Times magazine for a chicken curry. I got hungry just reading the article. Toward the end of the article, the recipe originator, Meera Sodha, was quoted: “if you know how to season with black pepper or salt, you can certainly learn how to do it with cumin.”

And that’s how I came to make my first curry, with cumin acting as the common bridge. Chopping, cutting, blending, mixing…. The kitchen started smelling wonderful during the prep work, and became more intense while cooking, as each spice was added. At last, the chicken went into the pot, and simmered for about 20 minutes. The kitchen filled with aromas, and we were starving, Finally, it was dinner time and we both loved the dish, eating to the last bite.

 In the process, we added a new comfort food for this winter….and I think we are going to need a bigger jar of cumin.

* The recipe can be found in the cookbook: Made in India: Recipes from an Indian Family Kitchen, by Meera Sodha. I’m guessing you can also get it online if you look around a bit.  If you can’t find it anywhere, post to the blog and I will send it to you.

With apologies to both Casey, and Ernest Lawrence Thayer…..

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,  

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;      

And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,    

But there is no joy at Wrigley— the Cubs are done and out.

I will remember October 2015 as the time our family bonded over baseball.

Our family has always had it’s baseball fans. Growing up, in Illinois most of my friends were White Sox, or Cubs fans. But there were also lots of us Cardinal fans. My dad and mom were die hard Cardinal fans, and it ended up that my sisters and I became Cardinal fans. I remember walking around the north side of Ottawa in October ’67 taking Christmas wreath orders. I had a transistor radio glued to my ear listening to Bob Gibson and the Cards beating Boston to win the World Series…

The years passed and the Cardinals won a few more World Series. My White Sox buddies were happy when they won theirs as well. And the Cubbies? Well, there was always next year….and the next….and the next. My sisters both got married and had children, but something went wrong, and low and behold, several of my nieces became Cubs fans. The years went on, and of course there was always a bit of trash talking back and forth on particular Cubs-Cards series.

Fast forward to this year, and the playoffs. The Cards and Cubs, with two of the best records in baseball, were meeting for the first time ever in the playoffs. Emails, texts, phone calls and Facebook comments go back and forth before the series until someone comes up with the brilliant idea to lay down a bet – losers have to wear the winners jerseys at a Christmas get together this year. Everyone quickly agrees and the playoffs start.

Of course, we all know that the Cubs won the series, 3 games to 1 (ouch!). But what I also remember is the great back and forth we had as a family during the series. With most of the family back in Illinois, and us in DC, this largely took place with texts and Facebook….a few hundred texts (!) and several FB posts. One night I was out to dinner with a friend and my phone kept buzzing. I ignored it until he finally said “don’t you have to get that?” I answered, “no, I’ll check later – my guess is the Cubs just scored….”. It turns out the Cubs did score, won that game, and then won the next one to clinch the series. Lot’s of good natured trash talking from our nieces and brother-in-law, a few lame comebacks from me and my sisters. Since then, the Cubs lost in 4 straight to the Mets (I warned you guys), and we now all remember that Back to the Future was just a movie, and not a prediction.

Cath and I are going home for Christmas this year. I’m looking forward to seeing family, eating and drinking to much, and even to wearing a Cubs jersey one night. I’m sure there will be pictures taken, and at least one of them will be suitable for framing.

I can’t wait for next year….

_____________________

Postscript: Here’s a photo of my sisters and I at the Christmas get-together…