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Nostalgic reminiscences

12 Dec

12 December, 2023.

Where you were and who you were with last Christmas? How about Thanksgiving of 1986? What gifts did you give your teenage son in 1990?

For many years my mom, sister, and I would have an inevitable discussion. Were we at our cousin’s last year for Christmas or at our house? Did we give Derek Hot Wheels or Legos? What year did he get that Walkman?

In 1981, in an attempt to resolve arguments before they started, I started to chronicle the Thanksgiving holiday and Christmas season. Now, 42 years later, it seems brilliant. My recall is not what it used to be. I still remember the events; not always the details such as precise years.

I have written about memories at this time of year twice before (see Christmas Memories from 2017 and Christmas Cards & Cookies from 2021) so it may be a blog trend.

I read through my holiday journal this year and a few more things popped out at me as fun to share.

For 4 years, while I was single and living in Minnesota, I held a Christmas Open House for friends, co-workers (some were both friends and co-workers) with a few family members for good measure. It was always the Sunday before Christmas and several dozen people visited throughout the afternoon and evening. My Christmas Chronicles detailed my menus. Here’s an example.

  • Glogg, a deadly Swedish mulled wine
  • Cranberry Punch, non-alcoholic
  • Japanese Yakitori
  • Sombrero Dip (very 80s!)
  • Köttbullar  (aka, Swedish Meatballs, a family recipe from my grandma)
  • Terrine de Campagne
  • Empaniditas
  • Bond Ost and Herring (Swedish Christmas favorites)
  • Wontons
  • Curried Chicken Finger-Sandwiches
  • Swedish Julkaka (bread) and Various Cookies

I cooked for days. It was crazy and something I would do in my twenties and thirties that I would NOT do these days. I wish I had pictures of these buffets! This was BECP: Before Everyone had Cameras in Pockets.

Christmas in Omaha, 1984. Ric and I were newly engaged. Left to right, Audrey, Anna, and Ruby. Ric’s mom, my grandma of Swedish meatball fame, and my mom. Grandmas was 87 and it was the last Christmas she traveled.

Then there was the year 7-year-old Derek knocked over two bottles of wine just as we were leaving for dinner at my cousin’s, and it was the very wine I had bought for the occasion. Luckily there were alternate wines I was able to grab, but two bottles of wine lay broken on the basement floor. Yuck!

Another Thanksgiving (1984), just as Ric and I had decided to get married the following year, we got a Siamese kitten for Derek, who was then 9. My step-daughter contributed a name for this naughty kitty, Méchante. She was cherished and with us for many years.

There were some very cold Christmases. In 1983, my final Christmas in Minnesota as we were moving to Omaha (this is pre-Ric), as of December 26 at midnight we had experienced 108 hours below zero. One day the high was only -15 degrees F. The high! That year it was so cold that on the morning of our Christmas Open House I woke to frozen pipes and no functioning toilets. Luckily they thawed by party time.

Although not so cold, we have had weather problems in Oregon, too. In 2008, the snow came and came and came in a series of storms. We lived at about 800 feet and could not get our cars out. Mine was stuck in the driveway for 8 days over Christmas. Our friends could not get to us and our neighbors could not get to their planned festivities so we invited stranded neighbors for Christmas Eve. We remember that evening fondly. There were two magnums of great Australian wine at the start of the evening. There were no leftovers.

Another year – 1987 – both holidays were overshadowed by our move from Omaha to Portland. At Halloween we found our house. Over Thanksgiving weekend we selected furniture and window coverings. December 29 we moved in. Whew! Sadly, we missed the wedding of Rick and Jane.

My sister and I had not missed one Christmas since she was born (1960) until 1985. She went to California, no doubt tired of the Upper Midwest cold. I missed her terribly that year. It wasn’t the same without her. She was co-hostess of the Christmas Open House (mostly in name as she was most assuredly not a cook) for at least two years.

Derek loved The Nutcracker. We attended, at his request, four performances, until at the age of 11 he said it was enough. Many years we went to plays and concerts during Advent. At least until he grew into a disinterested teenager.

This is about the age that Derek fell in love with The Nutcracker. Same year he killed the wine.

There were holiday trips. 1996 Thanksgiving in Texas was a favorite. Our brother-in-law built a plywood cover over their lap pool so they could set up tables for about 2-dozen people and we dined outside. That year he also built a dormitory/bunkhouse for half-a-dozen young men and boys to sleep in so everyone had a bed on the ranch. Ric and I got the room with a shotgun over the door and a gigantic Texas cockroach for a target.

When we moved to Italy, we took advantage of being there for holiday trips to London, the Dolomites, and Switzerland. When you cannot celebrate in a traditional manner, go for different. The lights in London, a concert at Royal Albert Hall, snow-hiking in the Alps, 5-course dinners you don’t have to make yourself. Somehow we always remember that at the lovely lodge where we stayed in the Dolomites they had a “butter buffet” with about 8 kinds of butter. Every morning. We were the only Americans with many Germans and Italians for our fellow guests.

One favorite Thanksgiving of all time: Ric and I cooked for 12 Italian friends on Thanksgiving Day 2013. Truly memorable! Those kids are at university by now, maybe graduated.

I was often on the road for business in the 90s and in 1995 was headed to Buffalo, NY, for a meeting on a December Monday. Derek was at Fort Drum in the Army, so on the Friday before we met in New York City to spend a festive weekend. We had a ball: Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, the Radio City Music Hall “Christmas Spectacular” complete with camels pooping on the stage, and the Rockettes. (They just danced.) We shopped, we ate, and we drank. Sunday at the airport our flights were in trouble: a huge lake effect snowstorm had moved in so my flight to Buffalo was cancelled and his to Syracuse delayed. I never made it to Buffalo for my meeting and Derek spent two days getting back to base as there were five feet of snow between Syracuse and the base near Watertown!

Some years Ric and I were alone in Portland. While Derek was in the Army, we spent two Christmases at a nice lodge on the Oregon Coast with our giant collie, Babe. Other years we had friends and family in large groups (I remember 13 at least once in our down-sized empty-nester condo) to dinner. Always uproariously fun with Trivial Pursuit competitions.

Jane Gray, aka Janie, at 12. She lived another 10 years.

Since we have returned from living in Italy we have spent many wonderful Christmases in Durango with Rick and Jane. Our fifth will be this year, again establishing great memories over shared meals and countless bottles of wine at high altitude. We’ve had snowy years and not-so-snowy years, big gatherings and small, cancelled flights and changes of itinerary, power outages and an intervening pandemic, of course. But we’ve always had a festive and memorable holiday.

Durango Christmas morning 2021. All fresh snow.

My brother has become the Master of making Swedish pancakes, aka plättar. Mom used to make them every year but I have not mastered the technique. A wonderful Christmas morning treat regardless of the weather.

In the end, these holidays embody time with loved ones and “home” wherever it may be. And that is what we remember. The events, the people, the problems, the victories. We forget most of the presents unless we wrote them down. (Though I’ll never forget getting my Barbie Dream House.)

As I wish you a festive and wonderful time during the year-end holidays I leave you with this lovely Italian saying:

Il Natale è un incontro con la memoria, ci porta a casa, inevitabilmente.

Christmas is an encounter with memory, it brings us home, inevitably

 – Lorenzo Marone

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Kilograms, centigrade and convection, Oh My!

24 Nov

24 November 2016. We are celebrating this most-American of holidays in Seattle with pouring rain, but surrounded by family. I am the chief cook but thanks to two able sous chefs, Ric and my sis-in-law Deb, I am not spending the entire day in the kitchen. Our nephew is supplying excellent wine and Alexa, the digital assistant will play any music I desire on demand. She also sets timers. I have fallen in love with her and a few minutes ago ordered one for our house. 

We are grateful to be back in the U.S. for the first Thanksgiving here in 5 years, but cannot help taking a look back on a fun-filled feast we held in Italy in 2013, when Ric and I cooked for 11 Italians on Thanksgiving. I hope you enjoy the look back and wish you all a very blessed holiday.

Thanksgiving 2013, A look back

I’ve prepared a lot of turkeys. A conservative estimate would be that I have prepared 40 over the course of about 36 years. My first was when I was in my mid-twenties and decided I had to be the hostess for Thanksgiving and my mom had to help. I was terrified of ruining the Butterball. The years we did not prepare a turkey for Thanksgiving at home I surely made one for Christmas or sometime during the autumn.  And I graduated over the years from frozen (Norbest with a built-in timer!) to all-natural farm-raised turkeys from an organic store. But the most satisfying turkey-venture was this year, in Rome.

Leonardo reads the menu - in English and Italian - as we start with the soup.

Leonardo reads the menu – in English and Italian – as we start with the soup.

Our friends, Alessandra and Francesco, invited us to prepare the feast in their beautiful apartment. They would provide the turkey and wine while Ric and I would prepare the contorni (side dishes). Knowing they had an Italian oven, which are smaller than most we have in the U.S., and since this type of meal is a bit unusual in Italy, we gathered over supper the Friday before Thanksgiving to plan our attack. I warned them that turkey takes time: I will be in your kitchen much of the day.  Since Thursday was a work-and-school day here for all but employees of the American Embassy, I worried it might be an imposition. But Ale and Francesco were undeterred and in fact invited a crowd to experience the American feast.  There would be 11 Italians at the table, plus Ric and I. We decided that if it would fit in their oven, a 7 kilogram  turkey would be a nice size, about 15 pounds U.S. Their friend Stefania would provide dessert.

Beautiful butternut squash and fresh sage on the way to making a velvety soup.

Beautiful butternut squash and fresh sage on the way to making a velvety soup.

Early Thursday we headed out to pick up artisan bread for the dressing and fresh green beans, managing to get in a 6 km walk in advance of the feast.  While we were inhaling the glorious smells at Roscioli, Francesco called and said “You need to talk to Ale. She has the turkey and it’s big.” Ale confirmed: her butcher has provided an 8 kg (17-pound) hen turkey and the butcher says it will take 5 hours to cook. Can we come earlier to start the cooking?

Ale's elegant tableware from Castelli, famous for ceramics.

Ale’s elegant tableware from Castelli, famous for ceramics.

We planned to serve the soup at 19:30 and the main course about 20:30, so we figured the bird needed to go in the oven about 16:30, if it weighed 7 kg. Now we had 8 kg to deal with, and (surprise!) a convection oven, which changes the cooking game considerably, plus the butcher’s recommendation to cook it in a low oven for 5 hours. Yikes!  Arriving about 14:45, Ric set to chopping herbs for my herb-butter turkey recipe. By 15:20, after calculating and re-calculating cooking time and centigrade-versus-Fahrenheit, we had herb-butter under the skin and put her in the oven trussed up as tightly as we could, just managing to squeeze her into the space available.  (Ric has a wonderful little app on the tablet that does all manner of conversions since our American-system brains have to constantly deal with length, volume, temperature and distance conversions.)  With any luck, she would be done by 20:00, giving 30 minutes for “rest” and to make the final prep.

Every good dinner starts with prosecco. Rita, Valentino, Francesco, Eleonora and Nello.

Every good dinner starts with prosecco. From left, me (elbow), Rita, Valentino, Francesco, Eleonora and Nello.

Whew! Deep breath, now all we have to do is monitor, baste, add broth, and prepare the contorni. Ric is a terrific sous chef and spent the next hour carving up butternut squash for soup, peeling potatoes, and various other tasks assigned, while the kids came and went. All-in-all Alessandra, Ric and I spent a compatible couple of hours doing prep, setting the table, chatting and enjoying the time immensely. At each check on the turkey, I worried it was getting too brown, but my research on roasting a turkey in a convection oven said do not cover with foil. By 17:30 I was nervous: it looked done. My brand new meat thermometer (Celsius, of course!) said it was done in most parts.  Can’t be! Two hours at 160C (325F) and it’s done!?!?!? The main event was still 3 hours off! We wanted the guests to see this magnificent beast, but how could we hold it safely not have it dried out like the scene from “Christmas Vacation?”
Ale said, “We must Google it!” We typed in “how to hold a turkey safely when it’s done early.” Amazing

Eleonora, Stefania and Francesco share the cranberries

Nello, Eleonora, Stefania and Francesco

number of hits! Who knew?  Survey says: aluminum foil, low low temp (about 200F), and moisture in the pan beneath the turkey.
Can I tell you this was the most beautiful turkey I’ve ever made? And the moistest? And the best-tasting? My updated recipe for perfection at Thanksgiving = The company of people you enjoy + Natural Italian turkey + Convection oven + Creativity and a little experience with turkeys.

Ignore the goofy-looking cook and focus on the bird: perfection!! Sara clearly finds me amusing.

Ignore the goofy-looking cook and focus on the bird: perfection!! Sara clearly finds me amusing.

I think the only side dish quite familiar to the guests was mashed potatoes. Gravy is not normally made in Italy, nor dressing/stuffing as we do in the U.S. (mine is made with sausage, apples and raisins). We managed to acquire fresh whole cranberries (shipped in from Massachusetts)  and made sweet potatoes with gorgonzola.  Stefania’s tarte tartin and homemade whoopee pies made for a festive and tasty finish.  See the whole menu here. Multiple portions were consumed and even the kids were adventurous in trying foods they’d not seen before. No one seemed to miss pasta.

Everyone who has prepared a Thanksgiving or Christmas turkey dinner knows that the final prep is chaotic. Getting stuffing, Potatoes, sweet potatoes, veg, gravy and turkey all on the table at the same time. Ronnie is a blur as he speeds to help!

Everyone who has prepared a  big turkey dinner knows that the final prep is chaotic, getting stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes, veg, gravy and turkey all on the table at the same time. Ronnie is a blur as he speeds to help. Thanks to Ronnie, Ric was off clean-up duty for a change.

Dinner went off without a hitch. Except as usual, I forgot something, sending the sweet potatoes to the table sans the candied pecans on top, and I forgot the pepperoncini for the green beans. (I think I am the only one that noticed.)
Last year, our first Thanksgiving in Italy, we knew we would really miss the large crowd we tended to gather around our table in Portland, so we celebrated in a totally non-traditional manner. This year we had a memorable, wonderful day thanks to Alessandra, Francesco, their family and friends. We are very grateful to have been able to share the traditions and spend our holiday with them and to them for opening their home and kitchen to the American Invasion.
I am so getting a convection oven the next time we need to buy an appliance.

Thanksgiving green beans with red peppers and American bacon. Not your mother's green bean casserole.

Thanksgiving green beans with red peppers and American bacon. Not your mother’s green bean casserole.

I ragazzi doing what kids usually do after dinner.

Giordano, Leonardo, Giuseppe and Sara, doing what kids usually do after dinner.

Giuseppe and Giordano at table - even the kids liked the soup!

Giuseppe and Giordano at table – even the kids liked the soup!

Me with my friend and Italian teacher, Eleonora.

Me with my friend and Italian teacher, Eleonora.

Kitchen action stops fo a quick pre-dinner drink. Ale, Eleonora., Francesco and me.

Kitchen action stops fo a quick pre-dinner drink. Ale, Eleonora, Francesco and me.

 

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Left coast life

17 Nov
17 November 2016. It has been scarcely three weeks since we left Rome. In that time, we have been to the dentist and eye doctor, bought new glasses, established ourselves with a General Practitioner, figured out public transportation in Portland, learned to drive again, bought a car, and had an offer accepted on a house after a 3-night trip to the Oregon Coast to “start” house-hunting. Yes, we will truly be living on the left coast, at Lincoln City, Oregon. Here’s our house-to-be. It’s about a mile from the beach. house
Driving is a necessary annoyance. We have a lovely hybrid vehicle; However, we are still trying to use public transportation for trips to the city centre to avoid the hassle of parking and to keep ourselves walking and wandering and discovering. You cannot adequately explore a place by car as well as you can on two feet.
We have made progress in the ever-important search for good coffee. We have managed to find three places: Coffee Time  on Northwest 21st Avenue makes an excellent and small cappuccino, Grand Central Baking just a block from our son’s house makes a smooth and rich cappuccino, and Great Harvest Bread Company  on Southwest 2nd Avenue made an Americano I found pleasant: not burned, not bitter, and not too big if you ask them not to add too much water. We have found that a flat white at Starbucks is pretty good and at 8 ounces about the right size. At $3.40 it is hardly a value and they expect a tip!
Last time I shared some of our observations after only a few days back in the U.S. In the past 10 or 12 days we’ve noted many more. These are things we took for granted until we lived overseas for 4 1/2 years. Now, they are astounding.
  1. Elevators are huge! I had forgotten you can put 10 people in an elevator without having to become intimate.

    This is the elevator at our embassy apartment in Roma. You coudl get 3 not-too-big people in it. One might call it "intimate." Quaint.

    This is the elevator at our embassy apartment in Rome. You could get 3 not-too-big people in it. One might call it “intimate.” Or quaint.

  2. In the US, cars do not park on the sidewalks nor in the pedestrian crossings.

    No one parks like this in Portland, but this is a failry common approach in Rome: on the sidewalk and in the pedestrian zone.

    No one parks like this in Portland, but this is a fairly common approach in Rome: on the sidewalk and in the pedestrian zone.

  3. Maybe it’s just in Portland, but buses are terrific! The drivers welcome you on board and they arrive on time. Most remarkably, rather than flagging a bus down as one does in Rome (or they won’t stop), the other day while standing at a stop serving 2 different lines we had to wave off the bus we did not need. So polite! Of course, the cost is much higher. A single trip is $2.50 versus €1.50 in Rome. My Roman friends will gasp when I tell them an annual pass is $1100.00 versus the €250.00 we paid in Rome, but then the buses here run on time and show up.
  4. People do not talk while riding on public transportation. It’s almost like being in Paris. They also wait for you to get off before shoving their way on board, and people queue up. I’ve even been deferred to in boarding. In Rome, people would shoulder me out of the way in the scurry to claim a spot onboard.
  5. The mentally challenged engage you in conversation on public transportation. In Rome, we seldom saw challenged people of any sort out alone, if they were out in public at all. It is refreshing to see people of varying abilities making their way around the city, confident and free, accepted by their fellow travellers.
  6. Dogs pee on the grass. Sidewalk puddles are (usually) from rain. This may only have meaning if you have lived in a big city without grassy areas.
  7. I can wash and dry clothes at the same time while making espresso and ironing. This is huge. Thank you, USA, for plentiful and affordable electricity. And we could turn the heat on before November 15. 
  8. I no longer need to clean the calcium out of the cat’s water dish with vinegar.
  9. Tipping is the scourge of America. Prices are so much higher than Europe as a whole, yet we are expected to tip even if we serve ourselves at the counter. This is going to take some getting used to.
We are thankful for all of you who have followed our story since GoodDayRome debuted 4 1/2 years ago. I am not sure where to go with blogging. Obviously, for awhile I will have little to say about Rome. I will keep posting what’s going on in our lives as our transition continues, so I hope you will stay for the ride. When we travel back to Europe, I will probably blog about our travels.
I am writing a book about easy hiking in Italy’s Val Gardena. It is for people like Ric and me (yeah, old people), people with children, or anyone who does not fancy climbing mountains but enjoys a good stroll. If I can take a deep breath and work on it consistently for a few days, it should be published on Amazon by late January. I will let you know here when it launches. Maybe 5 or 6 people will actually buy it. 
For our American friends and readers, Happy Thanksgiving! It is exciting to be back in the USA for this most-American of holidays and I am looking forward to our family gathering and cooking up a storm.
kitchenSpeaking of cooking, I can hardly wait to start cooking in my kitchen-to-be.
 

 

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One Thanksgiving just isn’t enough

26 Nov
In the U.S., our Thanksgivings were usually over-the-top: 13 people in our tiny condo for a 5-course meal, for example. This is definitely the holiday I miss most living abroad and replacing our U.S. traditions just doesn’t fit. So we do Thanksgiving differently. One year it was a non-traditional hike. The next we cooked dinner for 11 Italians at our friends’ house. Last year we fed ourselves on American nostalgia by touring the Norman Rockwell exhibit that was here. This year, we celebrated twice, because once is not enough.
A week prior to T-Day, the American Women’s Association of Rome held their annual Thanksgiving dinner and we joined about 110 ex-pats and Italians for an Italian-ized dinner at the ever-so-elegant Hotel Hassler. If you want a room there tomorrow night you would pay €330.00 non-refundable for the smallest room. For only an extra €100.00, you do not have to pre-pay and get breakfast too. Such a bargain. Personally I’d prefer a 3-night stay in a cute B&B in Venezia.

Elegant tablesetting at the Hassler.

Elegant table setting at the Hassler.

Cin Cin!

Cin Cin!

The AWAR dinner was beautifully prepared and served with prosecco and wine flowing freely. So freely I had to put my hand over my glass a couple of times to prevent the constant topping-off.  As I said, the menu was Italianized. Of course, there was a pasta, in this case perhaps the most delightful lasagna I’ve ever eaten, made with pumpkin and porcini. It was my intention to NOT complete each course, to pace myself and not overdo it. I managed to do so with the soup, but the lasagna demanded to be eaten. If there had not been 10 other people at the table, I might have finished off Ric’s too. (Note bene: all of the Italians finished their pasta. I was just trying to blend in.) While on the menu it looks like we had five side dishes (Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, corn, apple/soy cabbage, and chestnut with baby onions), in actuality only the sweet potatoes were a portion; the other four were a melange, more of a garnish than a vegetable dish.

OMG to-die-for lasagn of pumpkin, mushrooms and almonds.

OMG to-die-for lasagna of pumpkin, mushrooms and almonds.

 

Italian take on a Thanksgiving dinner.

Italian take on a Thanksgiving dinner.

 

The little garnsih including the Burssles sprout and corn at 12:00 on the plate comprised of 4 individual items on the menu. More of a garnish,actually.

The little garnish including the Brussels sprouts and corn at 12:00 on the plate comprised of 4 individual items on the menu.

 
The dessert buffet was insane and totally Italian. I managed — only being polite — to down a wedge of something intensely chocolate. We finished the evening with a visit to the rooftop for a moonlit view over Roma. Fabulous.
Our “second Thanksgiving” is barely underway but is decidedly low-key. Setting up the house for Christmas, watching a movie or two (last night, the annual viewing of Planes, Trains and Automobiles), and later dinner with friends at a favorite trattoria. 
May those of you who celebrate this great American holiday have a truly blessed day. We look forward to hosting one of our classic dinners when we return to Portland. 

Dessert buffet: no pumpkin pie in sight.

Dessert buffet: no pumpkin pie in sight.

 

Roma by moonlight from the hassler, above the Spanish Steps.

Roma by moonlight from the Hassler, above the Spanish Steps.

 
 

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Bits and pieces

30 Nov
It has been a long time since I posted to Good Day Rome. How to catch you up on our busy month?
We started with an outing on Ognisanti (All Saints’ Day) November 1. It was a spring-like start to November and we were not alone, but it was divine to walk among the ancient aqueducts yet be so close to home.  Click on any picture for a larger view. 

Ric had a couple of eye doctor appointments, including one with a doctor who specializes in the vitreous gel of the eye and the retina.  (Narrow focus.) This doctor said no further treatment was needed (yea!) but that he should have frequent check-ups. Va bene.
In sharp contrast to last year’s memorable and wonderful event, we choose to spend a quiet Thanksgiving this year: no cooking. I made a turkey breast on Sunday prior and we ate some excellent meals during the week, but on The Day we ate a decidedly Italian lunch at our favorite trattoria, following  a visit to the Norman Rockwell exhibition that is currently in Rome.  

We hardly recognized Antica Taverna when we arrived for lunch on Thursday! We have been eating there for years, 90% of the time in their delightful outdoor area, under the sky in summer and in the enclosed, heated “annex” in winter or rain. The Mayor of Rome, Sindaco Marino, has waged war on what they call tavolino selvaggio or “wild tables,” and has made the restaurants in the centro storico pull their tables to a minimal protuberance. The motorini can go through and cars can pass through the ZTL practically knocking pedestrians out of their way, but the tables have to be cut back. Even in Piazza Navona they have receded.  This new regulation severely restricts the small restaurants like AT that have more than 50% of their seating outside. Jobs were lost in this stupid move, but I doubt Marino will be mayor for long so perhaps the tables will go wild again.
I also started a new blog, Our Weekly Pizza, to chronicle our ongoing mission. Please take a look. If you like you can subscribe, or you can find it on Facebook , Google+ and Twitter.
We are wrapping up November with Christmas preparations. The holiday movie season kicked off with our annual viewing of “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” on Wednesday, and our extensive  collection (I think 28) Christmas movies is queued for viewing. The apartment is decorated except we do not yet have a tree. Hope to pick one up tomorrow. (Much more of a challenge than you might think.)  We have two trips coming up as well: Venice in early December and hiking in the Dolomites over Christmas. I will be sure to post some photos from those expeditions.
What have all of you been up to?

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