cuisine – BethSings

Gurgle

The house is quiet again but echos with the laughter and talking that filled it a few days ago. Not unlike others, our family gathered to celebrate.

Celebrate a birth. Celebrate our love for each other.

The last week has been a whirlwind of cooking, eating, visiting with loved ones far and near. Their presence, whether by walking in the door or a phone call or card was a gift in itself.

On Christmas Day a wave of sentimentality hit me, a brief moment of melancholy.

Call it desire, wanting a little more, instead of being satisfied with what we have. Missing those who are absent is human nature. My son’s words grounded me. The sentiment was fleeting. Generations, family and friends gathered at our table….some present, some in spirit. The days spent together were as splendid as the feast.

This year there was a new addition at our table: a whimsical fish pitcher from my childhood best friend, Leslie. At each meal we giggled as we poured water. It wasn’t until a few days after Christmas that I discovered the story.

The ‘gurgle pot’ was the creation of artist Matthew Ellison inspired by his travel to a small French village for his brother’s wedding. There were no hotels so all of the guests stayed with host families. His spoke no English and he spoke no French so conversation was awkward and challenging. A saving grace at meals was a fish-shaped pitcher that gurgled with each pour. …what a wonderful connection. Laughter. Listening. Whimsy. Trusting communication in all it’s forms on the journey.

In retrospect, 2015 has been a year of similar connections: lightbulbs in deep grace and dark journeys on long days. Listening for a gurgle.

Blessings. Births. Graduations. Weddings. Illness. Deaths.

Maneuvering day-to-day living. Connecting to the gurgle of those we hold dear. Finding the way to connect to them in a meaningful way. Not our way, but the best way.

Gratitude for it all.

In this coming new year, may your connections gurgle…simply with love, and abundantly.

Waitin’

Angel ornament made in 1995 by my daughter, Sarah from pine tree that stood in front of St. Aloysius Church. The trees were ‘repurposed’ by the kindergarten classes when our new church was built.

Kraslice ornament from trip to Prague in 2011. The eggs are a sign of blessing. I brought back a dozen and only lost one in transport.

One of two of my mother’s antique surprise balls that she had as a child…c. 1920-1930’s. One of my favorite ornaments since childhood.

004 — Each year for twenty years the Sisters that lived at St. Aloysius, the Daughters of Jesus gave me a dove Christmas ornament. It was bittersweet to put those ornaments on the tree after they returned to Spain. All but one of those lovely ladies are singing in the heavenly choir. Each, in their unique way, taught me about peace…and that ‘God is crazy about me’.

006 — We decorate our tree the third Sunday of Advent – with one exception. The year my daughter was born she was baptized on the first Sunday of Advent. I wanted my son to feel a part of the process so he and made the ornaments then decorated the tree with baby’s breath and lavender. It was one of the prettiest trees I remember.

008 — This ornament was a gift from a long-time friend, colleague and member of a prayer group we’ve both belonged to for nearly twenty-five years. It is from the Cathedral of St. Joseph in Baton Rouge and not only reminds me of a place that has become my home but also of other “homes” and the dear friends along the journey: Monroe and Shreveport.

Waitin waitin
I’ve been waitin
Waitin waitin all my life.

That light keeps on hiding from me,
But it someday just might bless my sight.
Waitin waitin waitin

William Bolcom ~ from Cabaret Songs Volume 1

010 — My first ‘adult’ ornament. 1980. It’s always the third ornament on the tree after my mother’s surprise ornaments. From longtime friend Diane Statham.

002 — New ornament this year from ‘first friend’ and blood sister. Most call her Terri but she’ll always be Leslie to me, a gift.

No big secret that I enjoy traditions especially when it comes to holidays. Traditions are what keep us connected. Some years I’ve considered getting new ornaments but those decorations are a walk with friends. Priceless.

Today, as I made Christmas Eve gumbo, surrounded by these ornaments, waiting for family to arrive I remembered the wonder and delight I felt as an expectant mother. Not unlike Mary and Joseph’s expectant waiting.

Waiting in the midst of traditions. Gifts of grace. Reminders of blessings traveled and will continue to travel in peace and joy.

Merry Christmas!

First you make a roux….

A good base. Any good cook knows it’s the foundation. Parents and teachers too.

Last Sunday morning was the first really cool day we’ve had in South Louisiana. Gumbo weather. I couldn’t wait to hit the kitchen. To me, making gumbo is a spiritual experience. It keeps me ‘in the moment’. Reminds me of where I came from, where I am, where I’m going. Well, like I said….it starts with a base….’first you make a roux’.

I didn’t realize until I moved to South Louisiana but gumbos vary by regions. My mother’s family came from Mobile. Questions about using tomato (I don’t) or okra (I do) never occurred to me. My mother and grandmother never used a recipe. I learned from them. I still use my mother’s ‘roux pot’.

The first gumbo has become an October tradition just as surely as the smell of sweet olive on a crisp afternoon or selecting the perfect pumpkin. I make gumbo throughout the year but there’s something about that first one on the first cool snap….feels like home….

Wednesday my daughter texted, asking for the recipe for ‘Campfire Stew’. Another family and Girl Scout tradition. The week had been filled with ups and downs but those moments had nourished my spirit. Today I’m making Campfire Stew. It’s not over an open flame like we did when I was a Girl Scout with my friend, Leslie or as a leader with my daughter…or camping with my kids….but in the cooking I’m linking all of those together….yesterday, today….and a promise for tomorrow…..

October….

Yes, “first you make a roux”…then you sit back and enjoy….feels like home…

Coq au Vin with Julia and others

Sundays. I have always loved the rhythm of Sundays. Quiet peace. They were special growing up. I tried to make them that way for my children.

My mother cooked Sunday dinner or in summer we’d visit my grandparents. Nurturing through food. It’s part of why I like to cook. Cooking is not a chore but a creative art. The smells remind me of home. Monroe and my children. Happy memories. I process when I cook. Yes the past is a part of that but planning for the future. Relaxation especially on a rainy day like today. There was always music playing in mother’s kitchen….I follow suit.

I started cooking for myself a few years back once the kids left and enjoyed it. . . but I stopped. It seemed indulgent. It didn’t occur to me that I could still do that for myself until a few weeks ago visiting my daughter in Boston. . . so last Sunday and today….I pulled out cookbooks, music and cooked. Foods I enjoy preparing, will last the week. Rediscovering this joy has centered my life….just like photography has. And certainly saved money and calories….

Thanks Julia Child for this advice. In life and the kitchen. The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.

Today’s endeavor: Coq au vin. One of the first fancy dishes I ever prepared. I remember cooking it from my mother’s Julia Child cookbook. This one is from a special cookbook sent by my best friend since kindergarten. As I cook I thought about life’s relationships. Then I thought how friendships are built through theater….some are temporary, just for the run of the show…or a few shows…. some are for the long haul. Just like the ingredients in the coq au vin, these relationships are all crucial to the outcome of the dish. I’m that coq au vin….. . . how lucky and grateful I am to have so many and varied ingredients in my life… near and far…

Cooking is all about patience, creativity and staying positive! Thank heaven I’ve had that in my life….and that life still tastes really good at this age!