Saturday, July 31, 2010

Those Were the Days

                                                                
Fast forward. Years speed by as we charge ahead and life moves on faster, faster, faster, while we acquire more and more. Suddenly, we stop and take a long look in the rear view mirror. Nostalgia takes over as we long for old times. Memories are mined for hidden gemstones. Rewind….


I yearn for evening breezes through the lilac bushes, kool-aid, bomb pops, a run through the yard sprinkler, some-mores, and chasing lightning bugs. I long for a game of hop scotch, jumping rope, and a drink of water from the fountain.  Popping the heads from dandelions, picking violets, a search for a four leaf clover, and the discovery of grasshoppers and monarch butterflies, were but a few of the simple pleasures of summer.

Unscheduled time, with no plans and no expectations, paved the way for many adventures. Mothers maintained the home base as calloused feet hit the sidewalks each morning. Stingray bikes, with banana seats, some of them specially equipped with a basket, horn or playing cards clipped to the spokes, provided further transportation. Food, drink and the occasional band-aid would eventually draw the bicycle crusaders home. Lunch and dinner were served with regularity at the kitchen table and mothers used their vocal chords to call when a tardy vagabond did not report for meals.

Suntans were all natural, as days were seldom spent indoors. There were no scheduled play dates. Impromptu matches of four square, kickball, baseball, and an occasional card game developed in the neighborhood parks, vacant lots and in the streets themselves. Neighborhood tribes roamed free into the evenings for games of hide and seek, also known as “ditch em”, and other forms of mischief.

Imaginations were put to use as items were built, created, and crafted. Each neighborhood found a way to fashion a fort or a clubhouse and a few go-carts, from scraps of wood and other items scavenged from who knows where. Kids will be kids was the unspoken rule and rarely did anyone complain if a few flowers, or a tomato or two were missing from the neighboring gardens.

Clotheslines filled with laundry dotted the landscape and the windows were always open. The neighborhood grocery stores brimmed with customers, including kids clutching shopping lists, with an extra coin or two for a treat of their choice. My favorite was the pop machine with glass bottles of ice cold soda in many flavors. I remember the clink of the coin and the clunk of the bottle and the feeling as I pulled out a bright red strawberry, my usual.

Girls would be girls as our mother’s and grandmother’s discarded clothes, hats and jewelry, became costumes, topped off with necklaces created from colorful strands of pop beads. Cardboard boxes became dollhouses, with empty thread spools for chairs, material scraps and tissues for blankets and curtains, all displayed against the designer crayon drawn wallpaper. The beloved Barbie doll was adorned with stick pin earrings, the ones with the colored ball ends.

Boys would be boys as an old tire became a swing and strips of the discarded inner tube tied to a piece of wood, became a sling shot. Dirt mounds were shaped into villages for matchbox cars and toy soldiers. Empty cans were fastened together with black electrical tape to make cannons as tennis balls rocketed through the air.

Middle class values prevailed as toys and clothes were handed down from one child to the next and a less than perfect item was still considered useful. A doll without arms was still a doll. A car with a missing wheel was still a car.

The wish book provided more fuel for our imaginations. Each Christmas and every birthday a box was unwrapped that contained a new Barbie or Chatty Cathy doll, a chemistry set, a microscope, perhaps a kit to make Creepy Crawlers, or a paint by number set, some Lincoln Logs, an EasyBake Oven, a View Master, an Etcha Sketch or a GI Joe.

An occasional trip downtown with a dollar tucked in our pockets would provide entertainment options with a visit to local movie theatre or to the “Dime Store”, for small treasures such as a Slinky, Silly Putty, Superballs, Clackers, bubble stuff, Playdough, a Mood Ring, a Troll doll, or a tasty treat of Incredible Edibles, candy cigarettes, Cracker Jacks and Bazooka bubble bum..

From all of these excursions, experiments and escapades a few words of experience ring true. Never use a slinky as a collar for your cat. It is not wise to take a test run on a go cart until some form of brakes has been attached. Once you cut a doll’s hair it will not grow back. Neighbors do not take kindly to holes in their clothing from any “stray” bb shots that come from the bushes and the right combination of  chemicals will definitely cause an explosion. Police do show up when enough fireworks are set off in the backyard and laughing while drinking soda will cause it to come out of your nose.

Every generation looks back fondly on years gone by and perhaps Archie Bunker said it best. Those were the days!
                                           Archie and Edith Bunker's Theme Song.








Tuesday, July 20, 2010

"She Don't Eat No Tomatoes?"

About a year ago, my son brought home his new girlfriend. Now he is not the kind that falls in love easily and we knew that if he was bringing her home that it must have been a pretty serious thing. So I did what I always do when we are about to have guests, I started  to cook. I put the sauce pot on and the kitchen was filled with the sweet aroma of basil and garlic dancing in a thick tomato sauce.


For years my specialty was manicotti filled with a creamy four cheese mixture , topped with a zesty tomato sauce and then baked until bubbly hot. Stuffed peppers are another family favorite. Small red and yellow peppers with a hearty meat filling are topped with the special tomato sauce that is a feast for the senses. Heavy sauces like carbonara are reserved for holidays, but for quick entertaining, a spicy amatriciana sauce, made stove top in a skillet is a quick and flavorful hit. It is an easy blend of bacon, onion, red pepper and tomatoes, the key word being tomatoes.


I went to work in the kitchen and I mixed up a caprese salad, garden tomatoes and fresh mozzarella , with  a drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of basil and garlic. I decided that it would be fun if we all made our own personal size pizzas, so I made ready the ingredients, including a thick tomato sauce, and I awaited the arrival of our new guest so the fun could begin.

“ My son introduced me to this new girl and we are instantly delighted. The conversation flowed easily, we talked, we laughed and I suspected  that they may be a good match.”

“Anyone hungry?” I asked.

I then went on to describe the menu that I had planned.

“Michelle doesn’t eat tomatoes, Mom,” he answered with slight trepidation in his voice.

The scene that followed was like the one in the film My Big Fat Greek Wedding. The room fell silent and then....

“What do you mean, she doesn’t eat tomatoes?”

“She doesn’t eat tomatoes. That’s it.”

“Do you mean raw tomatoes?”

“No I mean no tomatoes, no tomato sauce, no tomatoes.”

Dumbfounded, I found myself at a loss for what to do and I struggled as I searched for the appropriate response. I envisioned future family dinners without any sign of tomato sauce and I am stunned into silence for a moment or two.

I recovered and pulled myself together. I can usually think pretty well on my feet, so I pulled out a jar of alfredo sauce from the pantry. I added it to the choice of ingredients for our pizza making party. I shook it off and moved on.

Michelle built a “white pizza” with the alfredo sauce,  a bit of cheese and  a sprinkle of herbs. I tried a piece and will admit that it wasn’t bad. The topping on the pizza was not after all, the most important thing. I realized that the ingredients in the food were not nearly as important as the people around the table. Many gatherings have come and gone since then and we have managed to alter the menu to accommodate our newest member of the family by adding a dish or two. It has challenged me to try new recipes and to change things up a bit. I will admit that I do struggle for ideas.

That’s Ok I’ll make chili!