(Now on Chopsticks and String: "Sheep May Safely Graze" -- photos from MSU)
There is much to be said about New Year's Day. The sense of anticipation. The relief of closing the books on the challenges from the year before.
It's a tad lazy in some ways -- or can be, with parades, no office schedule, no real obligations (unless one decides to host a party that day. I didn't.)
So, on Friday, I did a couple of interesting things.
The not interesting thing was going to the gym. It was a necessity!
Then later in the day, I went to the funeral visitation of a woman who had been my grandfather's secretary in his insurance business in the 1940s and '50s. There aren't many people around who knew my grandfather, who died when I was about 10. I knew he thought the world of her, as did my mother, and remembered meeting her on a couple of occasions. I wanted to say goodbye to yet another link to my past. (The photos in this post are of my grandfather and various family, by the way.)
There is much to be said about New Year's Day. The sense of anticipation. The relief of closing the books on the challenges from the year before.
It's a tad lazy in some ways -- or can be, with parades, no office schedule, no real obligations (unless one decides to host a party that day. I didn't.)
So, on Friday, I did a couple of interesting things.
The not interesting thing was going to the gym. It was a necessity!
Then later in the day, I went to the funeral visitation of a woman who had been my grandfather's secretary in his insurance business in the 1940s and '50s. There aren't many people around who knew my grandfather, who died when I was about 10. I knew he thought the world of her, as did my mother, and remembered meeting her on a couple of occasions. I wanted to say goodbye to yet another link to my past. (The photos in this post are of my grandfather and various family, by the way.)
I was one of the first to arrive at the visitation and immediately met her daughter, who proceeded to tell me many things about her mother's experience working with my grandfather, as well as things related to the history of our city.She said Edith had saved clippings related to my grandpa that had been in the newspaper and company publications and she will send them to me. I hope she remembers.
The interesting thing about all this is that when you think about the time they knew one another, the relationship was really fairly progressive. Yes, she was his secretary but according to my mother and aunt, she really kept that business running like a tight ship. And there was such trust -- she was the executor of his estate.
A woman, executing a major estate in 1960 was pretty unusual.
It makes me see my grandfather a bit more completely -- not just as the gruff old man I knew as a child, the trout fisherman, the father of four girls.
My visit showed me a man who gave women their due at a time when many didn't. Who recognized skill and talent regardless of gender. Who was a civic leader -- he was involved in so very much more than I ever knew.In some ways, Edith's daughter knew more about my grandfather than I did.
And I loved the idea that in a sense, theirs was a love story -- not a romance. Edith had her own family and it was warm and close, and so did Grandpa (with Grandma, above, shortly before she died). But it was the love based on mutual respect, trust, companionship, camaraderie. And I loved that.That was the "farewell" in this title. But I also promised a recipe in the title of this post. Actually, no recipe included, but the story of preparing one!
Now, I'm not about to go all Julie Powell on the world, but because "Julie and Julia" was my favorite movie of 2009, and because Julia's "My Life In France" was my favorite book, I decided that I had to kick in 2010 by making Julia's Boeuf Bourguginone.
The dish plays heavily into Julie's story, as she cooks her way through Julia's book, and I had to try it!You can find the recipe in "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" or probably online. Here are my observations.
1) Unless you are a serious cook and have all the "right pans for every occasion," plan on using every pan in your kitchen. (I didn't have a stove-to-oven casserole or the right size stove-to-oven anything, which meant I was going from skillet to baking dish and back again. Over and over!)
2) Allow adequate time. The dish calls for two-and-a-half hours in the oven after you've done all the prep work. Even with doing all the mise en place work, my ingredients in nice little bowls, carefully measured and ready to add at the appropriate time, it took me over an hour to prep it!
3) Read the ingredient list carefully. Small white onions are not the same as tiny onions (pearl onions). I discovered this the day before, fortunately. Good thing I didn't wait till New Year's Day!4) Buy more wine than you think you'll need. It calls for three cups. This left about an ounce apiece to drink at dinner. And believe me, it was taking me every bit of self control to save that little bit for dinner to share, because by that point, I really wanted a slug of wine! I could have sworn there were more than three-and-a half cups of wine in a bottle.
5) Remember that thing about "every pan in the kitchen." You have to wash those pans. Just a warning. (Thank you, Rick!)
I had to laugh -- Julie P. talked about her mother's experience serving this at a dinner -- it was always a hit. I thought "I hope the guests didn't have to look at the kitchen while eating." (Julia does offer a prepare-it-to-this point option in the book. Next time I'll do it the day before and try that one!)All things said -- it was fabulous! Score one for Julia!
Late July/early August always takes us to Myrtle Beach.
It's Rick's second-largest trade show of the year.
I help him out on the floor and when he teaches seminars.
There's something about Myrtle Beach I love. And it's more than that almost-bath-warm water and enormous waves where I frolic in my swimsuit happily, not worrying too much people think about how I look. Everyone's so busy having fun, no one is looking!
It's not the town. We don't generally come in a car, so we're afoot for the whole time. We're in a heavy tourist district and the beach condos seem to go for miles. When you do find a shop, you can count on tacky sea things. There are few restaurant choices in our area and they are of varying quality.
But I love it. The people on the beach represent everything. All ethnicities, lots of foreign languages, teens and families. I love the little kids playing on their surf boards or collecting shells and the older people, hand in hand.
The umbrellas on an early morning, before they are opened wide, one after the other, to protect our skin from the hot Carolina sun.
And the waves. Oh, those waves!
(This is one of those cases where you hope and pray the movie is as entertaining as the book, even if it's not quite the same!)
Hanging out at the trade show for a couple of days helping Rick is tough on the feet, but it's a small price to pay for a few days at the beach.
Once you're into it, the book is almost as much about blogging as it is about cooking or 9/11 or New York. And some of the parts I most enjoyed related to her relationship with her blog readers (or bleaders!) as she experiences their support, her rise to a funky sort of mini-star status, and the roller coaster movement of the project. She makes some astute observations that so many of us have noticed -- about the supportive community this cyber-world delivers, among others.
It hasn't shown up here (but lots of things don't). Maybe it hasn't been released yet. Meanwhile, if you want to check in on the source material, you can visit 
