Tag Archives: food

Hidden Venice (and other miscellany)

3 Nov

3 November 2025.

Venice doesn’t call to me, she screams at me to come and visit. It’s been four years since we last cast eyes on La Serenissima. You’d think after 11 visits we’d have seen all there is to see. Since we were staying an hour down the train line (Ferrara) and the day was fall perfection, we hopped a Frecciarossa and made the count an even dozen.

The challenge was to find something unique away from the crowds at San Marco and Rialto. Thanks to the 2025 Architecture Biennale, I found a walking tour that took us to places we did not know you could access, in particular, the Arsenale, which used to be off-limits except for The Biennale exhibits held in the Arsenale South. Now the northern section is open on a limited basis and the route to get there is astounding.

A brief historic diversion is in order if you do not know what the Arsenale is. It dates to 1104 and was the shipbuilding center of the Venetian Republic and lasted until Napoleon ruined things in 1797. It was the largest industrial complex in Europe before the Industrial Revolution. Wikipedia has a fine synopsis if you want to know the details and see some renderings. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venetian_Arsenal. Click on any picture for a better view..

The Arsenale: The approach to Tesa 105; Art in Tesa 105; Inside along the tese (old workshops); Waterfront inside. Imagine Venetian ships being built here 1000 years ago. Notice NO CROWDS.

The walking tour is called “Castello, Naval Art and Traditions.” No, it is not a Rick Steves Triple Triangle Must See tour. That is the beauty of it. Instagrammers have not descended en masse. Monday to Friday from 8:00-17:00 you can visit through Tese 105, an exhibit space and bar on the north side.

How you get there is circuitous, and that is the fun of a Venice walk, zig-zagging down various calle, up and down countless bridges, discovering new-to-you sights, second-guessing your location and direction, taking more pictures than you can fathom. We saw very few people anywhere on our route and most of them seemed to be local residents. We especially enjoyed the elevated metal walkway along the Laguna Nord wall of the Arsenale. Perfect waterfront view and luckily not a windy day or it could be a mite unpleasant. Click on any picture for a better view.

Top Row: Baroque Church in a narrow calle, far from the crowds of San Marco; A sotoportego (underpass) with a shrine dedicated to the Madonna for ending the plague in 1630; The Plague Stone is the only red stone in Venice and is said to bring bad luck if you step on it.

Bottom Row: The metal walkway along the imposing wall of the Arsenale; View of Murano from the walkway.

The tour is described in detail here https://events.veneziaunica.it/en/things-to-do-in-venice/itineraries/castello-naval-art-and-traditions. Full disclosure: we skipped steps 9 and 10 as we’ve toured the tail of the fish several times before. Click on any picture for a better view.

A few more Venice pics on a delightful October day with glorious light.

Top Row: Grand Canal view; Quiet canal; On the Guggenheim’s terrace. Middle: Selections from the Guggenheim Collection; Bottom: Peggy’s view of the Grand Canal.

This portion of our trip, two weeks in Ferrara, was day-trip centered. We dislike, in general, a lot of short stays of 2 and 3 nights, preferring a week, or more, as a base. In other words, SLOW TRAVEL This has served us well in hiking locations like Ortisei and Lauterbrunnen as well as in cities like Paris, London, Rome, and even Venice. In those places we’d head out on a hike or out to see a sight, returning as needed to our digs for meals or just to rest. Doing day trips from Ferrara, however, was challenging as we had several very long days door-ro-door with significant transit time. The good news is, that transit was by train. The downside is that a lot of the trains are regionale, meaning “local” trains that transport people to work and school and stop at many many places and ae often full of high school students.

Upside? We had a great apartment and delightful host. I got to speak Italian quite a bit as it is not a prime tourist destination. I don’t think I heard one native English-speaker until our last night in town, and she was married to an Italian raising bi-lingual children.

The food in Ferrara was excellent: cappelletti with pumpkin and ragu, pasticcio, and a tremendous pizza at Settantatrepercento, aka 73%, the percent hydration in their perfect crust.

Ferrara is a very old city with an interesting history involving the Dukes of Este and the Papal governance after the duchy failed to produce an heir. We had great food and an insightful private walking tour. We walked the entire ancient perimeter wall (mostly intact) of about 6 miles, and saw an amazing Chagall exhibit that happened to be in town. We filled in with myriad day trips by train: Padova, Ravenna, Florence, Bologna, none of which had we visited in many years. Truly enjoyed seeing them again. Those mosaics in Ravenna! The Scrovegni Chapel in Padova! Florence was not as crazy with people as we feared it would be and we found a delightful trattoria where it seemed mostly locals were lunching. Venice still screams at me to come back and spend a few more nights. Click on any picture for a better view (unimpeded by captions).

Path on top of the 500 year old Ferrara wall
The wall from path below. Most of it is intact.
Lovely, level path for cycling and walking.
Ferrara city plan, depicting the city of the 17th century.
The chevron bricks on the right installed in the Este duchy. on the left, the cobbles of the papacy which dominate the streets today.
On our tour, outside the cathedral.
It is still spritz season! We found “our” bar in Ferrara the second night.
Outstanding pizza at 73%.
Trattoria di Noemi became our favorite.
Intro to the extensive Chagall exhibit.
Chagall’s “Russian Village,” 1929. Charming style.
School group very enrolled in their teacher’s discussion of Chagall.

Samedan, (see Graubunden Wrap-up) our first two-week leg, was excellent and probably our favorite. Lots of outdoor time, great Swiss trains, mostly good weather, well-equipped apartment and a lovely host. It’s a tiny town that does not draw tourists like its neighbors. They speak Italian as well as German, so that worked nicely.

Basel was interesting in itself, but harder to day-trip from as it turned out (see Basel Wrap-up). Everything in Switzerland was relatively easy to reach and there are cute towns and villages everywhere with ancient castles and charming streets. France was more challenging to reach due to poor transportation connections. We had hoped to spend more time in the Alsace but it was too difficult without a car. The best of the Black Forest in Germany is also a bit far removed from Basel to visit by train. To us, a decent day-trip should be within an hour by public transport. 90 minutes is OK, but two hours each way is a non-starter.

Ferrara tested our plan to try a base with regional day trips. We would not do it again and that is not to detract from Ferrara. Some of the rural places I counted on visiting by bus became impossible due to the schedules. Oh to have Swiss transportation everywhere!

We learned that we still do not want to drive. Thought about it twice, in Basel and in Ferrara, but rejected it as too stressful. In Basel, the cost of the rental was cost-prohibitive (about CHF 140.00 per day!) though the driving would have been more efficient and supported a wider range of options. In Italy, the cost to rent was not awful, but parking in Ferrara is at a premium and in some of the cities we visited by train, very hard to park as well, not to mention the dreaded ZTLs where you get fined if you enter.

We also learned that a first visit to an area should probably be in the 3-to-5 night range. Better to leave wanting more time than less. You can always go back. That does mean moving around more and less of what we see as SLOW TRAVEL. As we plan our trip for next fall, we are already thinking of visits to some of our favorites again, after a year off from Ortisei and Lauterbrunnen. But we’ll add in some new stops as well, as we continue to look for more places to call “favorite.”

We wrapped up with a pre-flught stay in Milan, which is usually an annual stop for us. We have a favorite hotel and a restaurant we have dined at for over a decade, but this year we discovered a new-to-us restaurant called Velavevodetto. The original, Flavio Velavevodetto (Flavio, I told you so), is in Rome but we never managed to get there during our residence. We love Roman food so a tram trip across Milan on a pleasant October evening was appealing. It was terrific. Have to arrange a stop there again next fall.

Elegant interior, lots of wine.
From the menu, the philosophy.
A Roman suppli, a bit like an arancino.
Even Ric’s tripe looks delish.
My pollo alla Romana
Velavevodetto means “I told you so!”

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Holding hands in Roma

5 Nov

5 November 2024.

Every trip has a name or a theme. We have had the “Mountains, Lakes and Sea” trip of 2018 (See the trip plan Mountaintop to Sea Level ), “The Grand Tour” of 2017 (See Tourists Again), and the “We’re Back” trip of 2021 after missing 2020 due to a worldwide plague, to name a few. (See Hey Europe! We’re Back!.)

This year, in my mind, the theme was “Return to Roma” as it has been 8 years since we moved from Rome back to the US.

Scenery walking back after dinner is one of the delights of Roma. A 2-mile walk goes by quickly.

We loved our time this trip in the usual locations of Ortisei and Lauterbrunnen, and enjoyed the Italianness of Locarno even though it is in Switzerland. Wrapping up our eight weeks with a gastronomic tour of Rome, the subtitle might be “A Reacquaintance Tour: Eating our way through Rome.”

We often talked about missing Roman restaurants: Our neighborhood favorite, Taverna Rossini, the best pizza places we found and wrote about for our blog Our Weekly Pizza, the fish place we traveled an hour to-and-from it was so good, the authentic Sicilian food. These neighborhoods, walking routes, coffee bars, restaurants, and pizzerias called to us. It was time to return and eat our way through town while revisiting old haunts.

Lunch at Rossini with our friend Eleonora.
Rossini: still a fabulous ristorante.

We had not been in town for 30 minutes when my love/hate feelings welled up. This crazy town continues to perplex and amaze. A fabulous double espresso in 30 seconds for €2.00! A taxi across town for €15! Ancient sites harboring a cat sanctuary and a wealth of art-free-for-the-viewing in vast basilicas and churches. People who weave back and forth on sidewalks and narrow streets. Tour groups coming at you like a tidal wave. The buses still ghost you and are uncomfortable at best, but the taxi drivers were, to a person, polite, efficient, and helpful. What’s up with that, Rome?

My hips and back took a beating on the sampietrini (aka cobblestones). Ric and I remembered we really liked to hold hands when walking in Rome and not only from affection but to keep each other stable and upright.

A scorciatoia (shortcut) through the maze in the historic center.

The old routes came back to us easily enough. The way through Villa Borghese we walked to-and-from work; the route we took from home to Piazza del Popolo to Campo de’ Fiori to go shopping every Saturday. Some of the vendors we used to buy from are still in the same stalls.

We dined at a couple of favorite pizzerias, La Pratolina and Da Remo. Still great: in fact they seem untouched by the intervening years. Even some of the servers are the same people we remember.

Our old standby, Antica Taverna, was not as good as we remember but it has suffered a change of ownership. It was nostalgic to sit there, on an obscure vicolo, and reminisce about our many dinners there including a Christmas Eve before I was blogging, Thanksgiving of 2012, and New Years of 2014. We ate there about once a month for over four years. Taverna Rossini, the neighborhood joint where we took all of our guests, was still so good we went there twice this trip!

Finding good Sicilian food outside of Sicily is a challenge, but Siciliainbocca did not disappoint. We happened by on a Tuesday, which was couscous night. Couscous ala Pesce is my favorite memory of Sicilian food, and it was memorable. No wonder Elon Musk dines here! (The cabbie told us about Elon’s visit, but we went there anyway.) Donna Fugata wine, an octopus appetizer, grilled calamari for Ric. We left happy and walked back the 2 miles to our hotel as penance for all we consumed.

Polpo a favorite!
Siciliainboca means “Sicily in your mouth” or, more elegantly, flavors of Sicily.
Fabulous Couscous alla Pesce.

We found some fun, new places to eat as well. Lunch has always been hard for us in Italy because they like to offer big lunches of pasta and traditional main courses or pizza. We like salads and sandwiches. Two new eateries we recommend, Cabullo (3 locations) and Molly’s Garden, are a welcome change. Molly’s, in particular, appeals as they know what they are doing with eggs, and they make a delicious wrap. Osteria La Quercia was so good I forgot to take food photos. They only use fresh ingredients guaranteed by small breeders and farmers, organic companies, and seafood from the Lazio coast. (Click on any photo for a better view.)

Cabullo’s counter. Everything made fresh in house.
Cabullo sandwich with marinated beef, cicoria,and peppers on a house made bun.
Molly’s philosophy.
Turkey wrap at Molly’s.
Molly’s interior: the bar.
Puntarelle, a favorite and only available seasonally.
Near Largo Argentina, but in a quiet piazza, where food is respected and traditions adhered to.
At Al Pompiere, millefoglie.
Osteria La Quercia, a stone’s throw from Campo de’ Fiori but a world apart.

Our final dinner of the trip was at Al Pompiere, well known yet for all the years we lived in Rome we had not visited. It was our loss! Family owned and operated, the padrone waited on us in the tradition of old hosterie (osterias). Classic Roman food: puntarelle (a salad of chicory sprouts with anchovy vinaigrette), carciofi alla giudia (fried artichokes), fiori di zucca (fried zucchini flowers stuffed with cheese and anchovy, battered, and fried) and much much more.

Without fail, everywhere we dined at night we were glad we had reserved. Any place decent and not too touristy was full and tables do not turn like they do in the US.

We found our way to a leather shop we used to patronize in Trastevere. There are leather shops all over the historical center, and some of their products might actually be made in Italy, but Ciufetti is the real deal. We arrived at opening and told the owner we used to come here many years ago. He told me it has been in business since 1955, the year he was born. He and his wife now run it and are open 7 days a week! He loves it! They make all of their leather products in house and sometimes, when tourists discover them, they literally get their stock cleaned out because people recognize the value and the quality at a fraction of the prices in the tourist shops.

Signor Ciufetti at work in his shop.
In Trastevere, easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it.

The city is getting ready for a Papal Jubilee year in 2025 and as a result there is construction and restoration everywhere. All the tram lines are down. The Metro Line C is still not complete and screened fencing blocks vast sections of the historic center limiting views. There is scaffolding everywhere and it seemed like every fountain was dry and being repaired. If this was my first visit to Rome I might be annoyed at how much is blocked but we saw it as a reminder that Rome has been changing for millennia and will continue to do so.

Screening hides much of the area around the Forum as they try to get Metro Line C completed.

I planned to get transit passes for the week we are here, but they proved remarkably hard to find. Luckily, we did not invest because the buses have been impossible and after two buses did not materialize (ghosted) twice in our first afternoon, we had to find a taxi to take us back. At that point we decided to go a piedi (on foot) or take taxis. Period.

Speaking of feet, in Rome we far exceeded the mileage we had in Richmond early in the trip (see 61000 Steps). In 8 days in Rome, we walked over 56 miles and I had almost 162,000 steps on my pedometer, an average of >20,000 per day. it helps when you can’t get a bus. (Trip total on the pedometer was a respectable 950,000.)

“Bigfoot” one of the remaining chunks of a statue of Constantine, Capitoline Museum.
Gorgeous Forum view from the Capitoline Museum. We had the place to ourselves.
Cats in Largo Argentina
Examining a cannon ball and it’s damage in Palazzo Colonna.
A very small portion of the gardens at Palazzo Colonna.
Forma Urbis

I should author a book called “Rome the Umpteenth Time” highlighting the places we visited that were new-to-us. Rome may seem static, but she is always undergoing change.

  • We had, remarkably, never been to the Capitoline Museums. Underappreciated, vast, uncrowded, with amazing statuary and Renaissance art plus a drop-dead perfect view over the Roman Forum. We passed a quiet hour with few other patrons around and no massive tour groups.
  • Palazzo Braschi, Museo di Roma, offers insight into how Rome has changed over the millennia, and startlingly over the past 100 years. We had visited once in 2012, but seeing these exhibits again made me realize my annoyance at the current state of pre-Jubilee clean up is a mere hiccup in this city’s progress. It would be nice if they were not renovating all the fountains at the same time.
  • Largo Argentina, long known as a cat sanctuary, opened the sacred area in the past few years enabling one to descend to the area where the Roman senators murdered Julius Caesar. (You cannot walk in that site but still impressive!) And the cats are there too. Bonus.
  • Forma Urbis, a new museum housing the surviving fragments of a stunning marble map of Rome carved early in the 3rd Century. An 18th Century grand map overlays the fragments showing the relationship to more modern locations. Hard to understand until you see it and the lights go on. A remarkable display.
  • Galleria Colonna was another repeat. We were there in 2013, as I wrote about in the blog Rain in Rome. This time, we had dry, lovely fall weather and were able to tour the fabulous gardens which are not open when it’s wet. The gardens alone were worth the price of admission. The Princess Isabella Apartments are an extra-cost add on that we popped for and were also worthwhile. Isabella was from a wealthy Lebanese family and married a Colonna prince. She used these fabulous apartment to entertain her guests. Interesting articles here (in Italian, so use Google Translate to enable your favorite language). Il Filo Rosso Tra Beirut e Roma della principessa Isabelle Helene Sursock and Isabelle Colonna l’ultima regina.

We had a lovely extended stay of 8 nights, with mild weather, great sites old and new, excellent meals at old favorites and two new-to-us restaurants that we were sorry we could not visit multiple times. The mileage on foot helped (we hope!) defray impact of the consumption of fine Roman cuisine.

Holding hands is nice even after 40 years of doing so.

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When the cows come down, the people party

28 Sep

28 September 2024.

On the streets of every village are traces of the alpabzüg, the annual descent of the cows from mountain grazing pastures (alps) to the valley villages and towns. The cows and their people take the same routes every year, some of which are the very paths hikers use. It is a big deal and a steady rain after is welcome, at least by me, to remove those telltale streaks. A cow must do what a cow must do, and hundreds have made the descent in the past few days.

We have seen many “cow parades” over the 10 years we have been coming to the Jungfrau Region as well as some in other parts of the country. Sometimes there are formal festivals with costumes for both cows and humans. Sometimes it is a farmer simply walking down the street with his 5 or 6 cows when he has the notion to descend. When we hear the giant bells clanging, we run to the street or window (along with many others) to watch the ancient tradition.

After the descent, the villages celebrate with the chästeilet, or cheese festival, a gathering for music, food, dancing and, of course, the selling of the alpkäse, or cheese made while the cows are feeding on lush mountain grass. Each farmer marks their cheese with their farm name. When we go to the local grocery stores, we can see the products of the various farms displayed. Occasionally we see entrepreneurial farmers selling their cheeses in vending machines along the road along with beverages, dried apple slices, and other snacks.

Two cheeses labeled in the grocery store case, one from Stechelberg and another form Wengernalp. The third entry is in a vending machine outside the farm along a road many walk through the valley.

Festivals can be tiny or grand in scale. At little Winteregg, which is where the little cliff top train from Grütschalp to Mürren crosses paths with hiking and cycling trails, we found a small gathering of farm folk with cakes and drinks (beer, schnapps, coffee) available. No entertainment. Just the cheesemakers whose hut is nearby and the farmers who supply the milk.

Winteregg’s 2023 festival, a community gathering right next to the hut where the cheese is made.

Three and a half kilometers away, as the crow flies (12 km by car, but you cannot drive there) is Wengen, which put on a grand chästeilet Saturday and Sunday a week ago. An evening and a day of celebration with music and massive quantities of food, table space for hundreds of people, gigantic cheeses, and handmade goods for sale. You could arrange to purchase a cow share. (Not sure if that means alive or butchered.) For a community of 1,300 permanent residents, it was an amazing event.

Wengen’s chästeilet is a huge affair for the surrounding farms, locals, and tourists. Massive wheels of cheese, samples, crafts for sale, and a community feed with vats of rösti and other local fare. Of course there was beer, homemade cakes, and coffee.

Last year someone tried to drive to Wengen. We know the path: it leads up from Lauterbrunnen and is clearly marked not for driving. Cringe-worthy video here.

Today we attended the cheese festival in Thun (pronounced ‘tune,’) 42 km away on the shores of Lake Thun. Thun is much larger at 42,000+ people, and draws farmers’ production from all over the Canton of Bern, so the festival is huge. Here they call it käsefest. There must have been 40 vendors as the Thun festival is all about sampling and selling. Cows milk cheese, goats milk cheese (it’s not all feta or chèvre), sheeps milk cheese, organic or not, they had it. Need your fondue or raclette cheese stash fortified for the coming cold months? Buy direct from the farmer at the Thun käsefest. Perhaps chilli pepper laced alp cheese or an herb-flecked mild cheese is more to your liking.

The French may have over 400 types of cheese, but the farmers of the Canton must have at least that many varieties of alp cheese.

The cheese festival was conducted next to the farmers market in charming Thun on the Aare River and included not only sampling, but cheese made on site. Each farm had its own kiosk. Click on any photo for a better view.

Frankly, we are a bit cheesed-out at this point, so we bought some great dark chocolate. Swiss, of course.

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Best of this-and-that    

31 Dec

31 December 2022.

Inevitably we are bombarded with “best of” lists and year-end compilations. If you hate these lists, just stop now because I am going to assault you with mine. I would love it, however, if you would respond with some of your favorites. They might become mine in 2023.

Best Book

Recently, I tried to recommend my favorite book of 2022 to someone and found myself perplexed: I have several I enjoyed so very much I had the devil of a time picking one.

Goodreads tells me I read only 32 books this year, 11,921 pages, ranging from travel books (5) to mysteries (12), and assorted fiction (15). Goodreads does not have a log of my cookbooks, but I know I read two new ones cover-to-cover for inspiration.

No single genre nor author shot to the top, rather my list is of entirely different specimens.

Tied for top book of 2022: Horse by Geraldine Brooks, West with Giraffes by Lynda Rutledge, and Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr. I think Gayle recommended all of these to me. I shall heed her every word on books to read.

Runners Up:  Last Bus to Wisdom by Ivan Doig, and A Gentleman in Moscow and The Lincoln Highway, both by Amor Towles.

Best Picture

We watch a lot of movies. Some are forgotten as soon as they finish. Some of my 2022 favorites are much older than 2022. We aren’t necessary current in our viewing so thank goodness for streaming.

The Fabelmans tops my list.This one will stay with me awhile and we will rewatch it soon. The acting, the script, the arc of the story, and the truth in this movie come together in a rewarding manner.

Others of merit: She Said (gripping!), The Outfit (Mark Rylance), Nobody (Bob Odenkirk), and Vice (Christian Bale as Dick Cheney is a transformation to behold).

Best TV Series

We have a real weakness for great series. While none of these will make my all-time top-10 series list, they are excellent entertainment and far better than network series. Not included are series that are ongoing that we started in years past like Vera, Shetland, Better Call Saul.

The following are in alphabetical order as I cannot pick a favorite.

Alaska Daily: Hilary Swank as an investigative reporter. Cliffhanger on season one. Will there be a season two?

For All Mankind: Alternative history drama about the space program starting in the 1960s. Particularly interesting to those of us who lived through the era. Awaiting season 4.

Gaslit: Julia Roberts as Martha Mitchell and Sean Penn as John Mitchell in another stunning transformation.

Grace: We are suckers for British detective dramas. Season 3 is due out soon.

Inside Man: Stanley Tucci and David Tennant. Too bad it was only a mini-series.

Karen Pirie: Another British detective drama but aimed at a younger market than most. Thoroughly enjoyable.

The Restaurant: This is an outlier. I have two seasons under my belt and am looking forward to the final 10 episodes. In Swedish, with subtitles, so demands attention but extremely well-done with interesting characters.

Best Meal

Ahhh, so many good ones! Sazón in Santa Fe, Recipe A Neighborhood Kitchen in Newberg, and Tina’s in Dundee. But the standout for me was in Geneva at Boccadasse: Italian food cooked by Italians in Switzerland. It was the last night of our fall trip and we feasted on octopus with potato puree, Vermentino (one of our favorite wines with seafood), seafood pasta, and semifreddo. Absolute heaven and so memorable!

Polpo con crema di patate
Semifreddo. There was no sharing.

Best New Recipe

Slow-cooker Shrimp in Purgatory. OMG is this good! https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1022265-slow-cooker-shrimp-in-purgatory. New to us this year, it is on the list for frequent repetition.

Best New-to-us Hike

Rifugio Emilio Comici to Mont di Sëura in the Alpe di Siusi. This was a difficult hike for us with a 900 foot descent, beyond what we usually do, but so terribly rewarding in that we did it. We self-congratulated for hours.

Looking back over the trail we hiked.

Best Urban Walk/Hike:

Mount Tabor. I had not been up on Mount Tabor in over 10 years so revisiting with my walking buddy, Grier, was a delight in rediscovering the area. Grier and I also hiked the Alameda Ridge in spring, which is a contender for Great Urban Walks. Thanks to Laura O. Foster’s books on Portland walks we are still discovering treks even after 30+ years living here.

Best Household Improvement: Molly & Sven joined us in January and March, respectively. Such a joy to have their lively selves cavorting about the house, even if they do want breakfast waayyyy too early.

Happiest of New Years to everyone! Tell me, what were your “bests” in 2022?

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Christmas cards & cookies

17 Dec

17 December 2022.

Childhood memories have a powerful influence that seems even stronger as we age. Christmas memories can be particularly profound after decades of revisiting traditions from our youth. Reflecting on those memories from a distance of 60+ years offers a far different view than when you are 25.

My mother was a force at Christmas. I did not always recognize that. Where she got the energy in the 1950s and 1960s after working hard all day, on her feet as a nurse (in white uniform, cap, and sensible shoes, of course) I do not know. She came home and night-after-night wrote cards to dozens of people. This was not simply a matter of pulling out the address book and working through it, and she certainly did not have at her disposal the time-saver of a printer to merge addresses with address labels. Out came the cardboard table to reside in a corner of the living room until Christmas Eve day. Out came the boxes of cards, address book, holiday stamps, and the Christmas Card Ledger. We’d call it a “tracker” these days, I suppose. This ledger was a list of everyone she had sent cards to the prior years. Alongside their names, there were several columns encompassing years with a check box each for “sent” and “received.” Mom could record each person she graced with a card by year and also record if we had received one from them. I recall her having a guideline that if you did not receive a card from someone for two-or-three years, you dropped them from the outbound list.

A Christmas card from the Nortons was not simply signed or imprinted “Ruby & Eric,” (later by her name alone) but every single one included a personal note of some sort. It might be “It was great to see you in July,” or “We enjoyed the pictures of your family.” Mom did not think it appropriate to send a card if you weren’t going to personalize it. Some notes were longer and although I do not recall any Christmas Letters, there may have been one. Each card was hand addressed, return addressed, and stamped. Dozens of these went out each year and dozens were received, each sender dutifully recorded in her ledger. There was one photo card that I was clever enough to hang onto.

Circa 1959, brother Rick, our dachshund Pete, and me. Photo by our dad, no doubt.

Once the cards were done, the card table was put to use making at least five kinds of traditional Swedish Christmas cookies. Our favorite was probably the sandbakkels, a delicate buttery sugar cookie made in a special tin. We liked to put ice cream in them. Others included krumkaka, pepparkakor, snowballs (aka Russian tea cakes), and spritz. Other than the snowballs these delicate confections were futzy to make, requiring care in handling, control of humidity (not a problem in a Minnesota winter), and storage where your children could not access them until Christmas Eve. I recall there being peanut blossoms some years and sugar cookies my sister and I could decorate. Grandma made rosettes, but that is another story.

Mom made DOZENS of each cookie. Some went to neighbors in the popular cookie-exchanges of the era, but most were saved for the festive dinners whether at our house or one of the grandparents’.

Intermittently Mom would use said card table for wrapping gifts. This was often done after our bedtime, of course, and Santa gifts were always wrapped in a paper we had not seen in the household supply so the myth was perpetuated visually in the wrapping. I think only once, well past my years of innocent belief, did I discover a hiding place.

Of course all of those gifts were purchased in person. Mail order was rare in our house and there were downtown trips with Grandma and Mom during which I am certain some gifts were procured as we waited to see Santa.

I was just shy of two-years-old in this picture. Brother Rick was four years older. He still is.

We always got at least one thing we desperately wanted (Barbie Dream House, anyone?) and I know now that was not easy for our parents financially. There were full stockings although I always thought an orange and an apple in the toe made unfortunate filler. Raised in the Depression, Mom thought it practical.

Eventually little Nancy came along, 7 years after me. This is about 1964.

The truly crazy thing my parents did for several years was to invite in the neighbors, close friends, and sometimes teachers (I was honored and mortified when my 5th grade teacher showed up) to come ON CHRISTMAS DAY for brunch! They arrived over a period of a couple of hours, probably 3 dozen people all told, to eat Swedish sausage and Swedish pancakes. My mother labored over the Plett pan all morning, making 7 tiny, delicate, delicious pancakes at a time to refill the serving platter on the table until everyone was satisfied. No wonder we always were at the grandparents for Christmas dinner. Making all those pancakes is no small feat. I can barely make the darn things at all (it requires patience I do not have), but my brother has mastered the craft and we look forward to his Christmas breakfasts every year.

A Swedish Plett pan in which one makes plättar which are served with lingonberries. Yum!

Also at the brunch on Christmas Day, our dad poured eggnogs with rum and God-knows-what other cocktails while Mom sweated over the electric range and manned the electric skillet frying the sausage. Her cookies were also consumed in mass quantities that day. I remember her being dressed up, hair and make-up done, wearing a pretty Christmas apron.

I did not follow my mother into nursing nor did I ever master her cookies. My papparkakor always broke and since IKEA makes a very good ginger thin in a pretty Christmas tin, why go to the nightmare of making those from scratch? My sandbakkels either came out of the tins too thick and tough, or if as thin as they should be, crumbled upon release from the tins. I did not have my mother’s touch.

This is what sandbakkels should look like.

This year, after more than a decade, I managed to make krumkaka although taking 60-90 seconds per cookie to make them one-at-a-time taxed my patience. My first batch was lovely but humidity softened them up by the next day. I consulted my co-blogger Krumkaker for her Norwegian version. I am delighted to report that the batch I made yesterday is delightfully crisp today and they taste even better. They are incredibly delicate and with apologies to my brother, they are not going to make the trip to Durango. Next year I will send you a krumkaka iron and figure out how make them at a high elevation. I am bringing some not-fancy-but-tasty treats, calories be damned.

My first batch of krumkaka, tasty but failed in Oregon humidity. And my “new” krumkaka iron looking like one already any years old thanks to all the butter in the batter.

Similarly I do not send Christmas cards; at least not very many. I love receiving the cards and photos and letters from our friends but making a list and writing out cards is just not one of my habits at the holidays. For a few years I followed the trend of doing an e-card, cobbling together pictures from our travels. Now when we take our annual trips we talk about getting a really good picture of us together and maybe doing a card. We got exactly one picture together (below) on our 2022 trip which I classify as “not bad,” but certainly not worthy of designing a card around.

So apologies to my dear friends who take the time to write cards and letters and perhaps to send photos of children, grandchildren, and travels. We relish reading them and feeling like we have a little more connection as a result. Please do not take us off your lists!

This blog is my way of connecting to you and if you follow along, you have an idea of what we’ve been doing over the course of the year. Thank you for coming along on our adventures.

A Merry Christmas, (or Buon Natale or God Jul), Happy Hannukah, and Happy New Year to you all! May your holidays include some of the magic of youthful memories.

Hiking in the Alpe di Siusi, September 2022.

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