Packing Up My Cookbook Memories

Posted on November 24, 2010 by Judi

As I begin to pack up my possessions for my upcoming move, I’ve been reminded of all the memories that go along with those possessions. I’ve been accumulating a lot of stuff during the past 12 years since I’ve lived in my current house as well as possessions that I brought with me from prior houses.

I packed all my cookbooks in small boxes. They are quite heavy for me, but I’m sure the movers will be able to move them. What memories I have of my past life when my late husband and I used to cook in our kitchen.

I remember waiting in line to get The Way to Cook signed by Julia Child during her book signing at Rizzoli’s bookstore on Fifth Avenue in NYC. My late husband adored Julia and it was such a special gift. There are many gravy stains on the pages of that cookbook.

I packed the Frugal Gourmet cookbooks. My late husband enjoyed watching Jeff Smith’s cooking shows on PBS. They were popular shows in the 1990s.

I packed The Silver Palate cookbook. Do you remember when Sheila Lukins and Julee Rosso started the gourmet craze in the mid ’80s. Of course, I, like my fellow yuppies at the time, wanted to become a gourmet cook like Sheila and Julee. That’s why I also bought the Frog Commissary cookbook. It was such a yuppie book at the time too with great recipes. (As I put this book in the box, I thought about my days working with a team of talented women in food, including Anne Clark, one of the authors of the Commissary cookbook, to start the Philadelphia Women’s Culinary Guild. During some of our Board meetings, Anne would ask us to sample the recipes she was testing for the new cookbook. I enjoyed the poached figs and other delicious treats Anne would serve. Ask me if I made any Commissary recipes. Yes, I did. I made the incredibly rich Carrot Cake with its incredibly rich cream cheese frosting. M’m it was SO GOOD, SO GOOD.)

I packed my Women’s Day collection of cookbooks from A to Z. They are the best set of cookbooks I own and will eventually hand down to my children. My mom’s friend bought them each week at the A&P supermarket. When she passed away, she gave the set to my mom. When my mom moved to Florida 20+ years ago, she gave the collection to me. I have cherished them ever since. My favorite recipe is the challah I make each year during the Jewish New Year.

I packed the Joy of Cooking. That book has been like a cooking bible to me for many, many years. Need to find out how to make coleslaw dressing? Check with Joy. Need to know how long to roast a chicken? Check with Joy. Need to learn how to make a piecrust? Check with Joy. I don’t think I could have existed in my kitchen all these years without Joy. Thank you Joy. Thank you Joy.

When New Orleans cooking was the rage in the ’80s, I bought Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Louisiana Kitchen cookbook. I made jambalaya that was SO SPICY I thought my late husband and I were going to set our mouths on fire. I made the sweet potato pie. It was SO YUMMY.

I packed my Greek cookbook and my French cookbook. I packed my Jewish cookbook and my Chinese cookbook. What other ethnic cookbooks did I pack? Let me see. Ah yes, I packed my Italian cookbook. How could I forget my favorite cuisine and all the pasta recipes I have tried over the years?

I packed the Spa Cuisine cookbook I just bought after my trip to the Miraval Spa. (Ask me if I made anything from this cookbook yet. No, I didn’t. But, I do intend to use it in my new home.) I packed my Canyon Ranch cookbook that a friend had given me years ago.

I packed my new Magnolia Bakery Cookbook. (Ask me if I made anything from this cookbook. Yes, yes, yes, I did. My son and I worked very hard one evening a few weeks ago to try to replicate the famous Magnolia cupcakes that I love, love, love. We used a pound of butter, many cups of flour and tons of confectioners sugar for the icing. Ask me how they turned out. Not good. They were too rubbery and the icing didn’t look anything like the fluffy icing that is on the cupcakes at the Magnolia Bakery in NYC. We will try this recipe again when I get into my new kitchen in my new home. Yes, we will make cupcakes again.)

I packed my Moosewood cookbooks from the famous Moosewood restaurant in Ithaca, N.Y. Those cookbooks will always remind me of my hip and cool college days of the ’70s, when cookbook author Mollie Katzen began to move vegetarian cooking into the mainstream.

I packed old issues of Bon Appetit and Cooking Light magazines. I packed my old copies of Eating Well and Gourmet (which is now extinct). I packed my newspaper clippings with recipes from Craig Clairborne’s 30 Minute Gourmet column that used to appear in the food section of the New York Times every week during the ’80s. He was ahead of his time dear Craig. I made almost every recipe because it was quick and easy and only took 30 minutes to prepare.

I will have lots of boxes of cookbooks to unpack when I get to my new home. My new kitchen is not as large as my current one. I don’t really do a whole lot of cooking anymore. My life has changed so much over the past several years. “Take out” and “go out” are now part of my weekly routine. “Low fat” and “low cal” are on the menu more often. And when I need a recipe these days, I usually turn on my computer and search the worldwide web.

Despite the advances in technology and the changing food trends, each of these cookbooks will continue to have a special place in my kitchen and likely in my heart. Like good friends, I know they will always be there when I want to sit and simmer a pot of wonderful memories.

Judi

Conquering My Fears

Posted on November 13, 2010 by Judi

I didn’t have time to blog earlier in the week because I was busy doing battle with the healthcare systems in this country. Yes, I was lifting my muscles and stretching my legs for a sprint that I made with Medicare.

“Your mother is going to be discharged from rehab this Friday, she is not making enough progress” said social worker B, “but, she is not safe to go home by herself.”

“Where will she go?” I said as I began to fear my greatest fear that my mother would never go home again.

“She can stay here under private pay, or she can go into the nursing facility,” said B, ”but her physical therapy will be cut way back.”

“How will she get stronger if you take away more than half her therapy?” I said as I began to fear my greatest fear that my mother would never be able to fully walk again even with her walker.

It was fitting that when I was dealing with my many fears this week that I had an opportunity to attend an inspirational lecture with Rabbi Kushner, the author of “When Bad Things Happen To Good People,” and a new book, “Conquering Fear.“ You see, according to Rabbi Kushner, “fear is not to be banished, fear is to be managed.”

As I listened to Rabbi Kushner, I realized that I had used all three of his wise tools to help me deal with the fear of my mother’s fate in rehab. I had used light. I had used salvation. And I had used my strength to conquer my fears.

Rabbi Kushner says that by “letting a little bit of information or light into one’s life can help calm fear.” (That’s what I did. I listened to the information my mom shared with me about the right to appeal her discharge. I listened to my cousin who is is conversant in eldercare and took good notes. And as I let the light into my life, the fear of my mother’s fate in rehab became a little less scary.

“We will appeal tomorrow morning. Yes, we will,” I said to my mother on Tuesday night with a tad of Erin Brockovich in my voice. “And we will win.” (Go Erin. Go Erin. Go Judi. Go Judi.)

Rabbi Kushner says that salvation is another way to conquer fear. “Never let someone else’s opinion of you define who you are or shatter your sense of worth,” he said. “Don’t try to cope with it alone.” (I wasn’t going to let doctor M who only spoke with my mom for a few minutes determine her fate in rehab. No. No. No. Just as Rabbi K says, “sometimes people make mistakes.”)

Rabbi Kushner says that strength also helps to conquer fear. He says that “when we have great fears, that sometimes we have to dig deep to find the strength we have in ourselves and if we find our strength it can help us deal with our fears.” He says he has faith because people are so resilient. (I did dig deep this week. I found my strength from deep down in my soul. I was the proud daughter of a strong mother, a mother who is 89 years old with a zest for life and a lot more to give. A mother who is not ready to sit still in a wheelchair and settle in silence.)

“My mother is making progress. She has improved in her physical and occupational therapy in the past 18 days. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes,” said the therapist.

“My mother is a strong woman. She has lived alone the past 20+ years and if you continue to give her rehab there is a chance she will be able to get stronger and improve even more. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” said the therapist.

“Then why are you discharging my mother now?”

“Oh, oh, oh, okay, we’ll talk to the doctor and see if we can keep her a little while longer,” said B.

Rabbi Kushner is right, “growing older is scary.” (But, I do agree with Rabbi K that as I age I am beginning to cherish my wisdom more than my youth.)

What’s that about baby boomers Rabbi K? What did you say about my generation?

“Baby boomers as they pass through every stage of life have made changes.” (Yes we have.)

“And they will continue to make changes as they age.” (Yes we will.)

“Old age will be a destination and a blessing to look forward to…to read…to volunteer…to do the things you’ve always wanted to do.” (Rabbi K is so smart…he knows all the things I want to do in the future. This lecture is almost like my astrology session.)

“The years ahead are fewer than the years behind.” (Yes, that’s true too. I hear you, but I like the stuff about volunteering and reading a whole lot better.)

“When you are old and sick, death will not be scary. Death will be the answer. Death is the end of life like a period is to the end of a sentence. It defines and evaluates life. What happens to the non-physical entity of ourselves, our soul, lives on after death.” (That was a pretty heavy ending to an inspirational evening.)

Earlier in the day, there was a message on my cellphone from social worker B. “You’re appeal has been accepted. Your mom’s discharge for Friday has been cancelled for now.”

Ahh, ohm, ahh, ohm….I breathed a sigh of relief. My fears subsided. A sense of calm came over my body.

“We won,” I said to my mom before I went off to hear Rabbi K.

“Yes, we did,” said mom. “I was so impressed how you spoke to those people like that…saying how strong I was.”

“I had a great trainer,” I said. (P.S. – I never told my mom I was afraid. Some things are better left unsaid. I learned that from my trainer.)

Judi

Oh Flo-REE-Da, Oh Flo-REE-Da

Posted on November 4, 2010 by Judi

I just arrived back from my trip to Flo-Ree-Da to see my mom. I am truly, deeply, absolutely exhausted.

How do I begin? Where do I begin? I don’t know. I don’t know. Ah, yes. I have so much to share. I think I’ll tell my story with some rhythm and rhyme. I’m not a very good songwriter, but the tune that keeps playing again and again in my mind is Andy Williams’ “Love Story.” (Are you old enough to remember that song? I think Frank Sinatra sang it too.) Here’s my semi-version:

Where do I begin,
To tell the story of my long weekend in Flo-ree-da,
The drawn out story of five days in Flo-ree-da,
It’s such a story that I thought I’d write a song,
I’d write a song.

I landed on Thursday,
My mom was not at home she was far, far away,
She’d fallen ill and was in rehab for a stay,
Her apartment, yes, it was locked and I had no key,
But, her nice neighbor let me in, she let me in.

I headed off to the rehab facility,
“Don’t get lost,” said mom’s neighbors E and E,
I did get lost, I did get lost, but then I found the place,
“Where is my mom?” I sweetly said to the nice nurse,
“She’s in the west wing,” she waved her hand at me and said go see.
I took a walk, I took a walk.

I found my mom, I found my mom,
I was so glad she was alright,
I smiled, then she hugged me very tight,
Her legs had given out and she was very weak,
Her mind was sharp,
She was not meek. She was not meek.

No Olive Garden dinners, no Chinese food to eat,
Instead I dined alone on matzoh ball soup and enjoyed a large black and white cookie for my treat.
I dined alone. I dined alone.

I drove around to find the nearest Wal-Mart,
I drove around to Walgreens too,
I tried to buy two high-top seats for her pot-tees.
When darkness came, I wished instead I had some vodka and hot tod-dees.
I went to bed, I went to bed.

“What are the plans?” said social worker B, “what are the plans, today, today?
“Assisted living, nursing home, home care, or your house…is that okay?
“How will your mom survive alone?”
No, no, no, I did not like her tone, her tone.

“No, no, no,” I said as the tears came to my eyes.
“My mom will not only survive, survive.
“With your occupational and physical therapy I know she’ll thrive.”
I know she’ll thrive. I know she’ll thrive.

I drove around to find the nearest Wal-Mart,
I drove around to Walgreens too,
I tried to return the high-top seats for her pot-tees.
When darkness came, I wish instead I had some vodka and hot tod-dees.
I went to bed, I went to bed.

Home health aids, insurance, CVS, Arthurs Medi-shop, I made the calls,
The only spot I missed was Coral Springs and a few such other malls
Deeds, living wills, other documents I searched them out,
By the end of the weekend all I wanted to do was shout.
I wanted to shout. I wanted to shout.

“My mom is smart, my mom is great.”
She’ll be walking better soon. Just you wait, just you wait.

I packed my bags and said good-bye to my dear ma,
Your tanless daughter must say adieu to Flo-ree-da,
I’ll see you soon, I will return,
Meantime, you be good and stay stern,
Make sure they take good care of you,
Yes, do your therapy and eat well too,

I’ll be back soon. I promise that,
By then you’ll be back in your home flat.
I love you so. I always will.
Rest assured my sister N and I will never leave you over the hill,
Your new tv it will be fixed, as will the window that the lightening has nixed
I’ll search high and low to find you some new pot-tees,
But, most importantly, we’ll really celebrate with a jug full of vodka tod-dees,
We’ll celebrate with vodka tod-dees. We’ll celebrate with vodka tod-dees.

Judi