Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘toys’

IMG_6196

I spent part of Christmas morning volunteering at the Salvation Army’s holiday party for the needy. Every square foot of the giant rec room was occupied with food, face painting, Santa, a live band, a walk-around magician, and a toy and winter clothing giveaway, all sponsored by a local Italian restaurant and many, many donors. Yes, we totally tripped over each other, but it was a gas.

I was manning the dish and takeout station when the little girl above came over just to show us her new teddy bear. She glowed like the sun and wiggled a lot, which is why the picture came out somewhat blurry. The woman serving salad beside me said, ‘Wouldn’t it be great if all it took for us to be that happy was a teddy bear?’

Below, our coats thrown into a heap in the kitchen by a box of aluminum serving pans. That’s mine above left, with the fuchsia scarf.

IMG_6191

The chef seasoning the next massive pan of macaroni and cheese.

IMG_6195

Mr. Cutie below isn’t afraid. And his mom has no qualms about joining him.

IMG_6192

The little boy on the right was very resourceful in thinking to use the box from his new truck as a tray for his two desserts. But he was so amped up that they slid off. I’m actually surprised he made it to his table. This was shot just before both desserts took a splat.

IMG_6193

Face painting, patience, and another pink slip owner.

IMG_6194

A gentleman who came through the buffet had this around his neck, and I said, ‘I love your plane! Did you make that? It’s from an Arizona can!’ He looked amazed and said, ‘Yeah! And you’re the first person I’ve met who knew it was a plane!’

IMG_6197

*A woman came through the buffet line with two children, and I asked her if she wanted plates as well as takeaway boxes. (Both would have been fine.) She said, ‘Oh, no, just the plates; I want to be respectful.’

*Another woman had her eye on some winter gloves being offered free of charge, but didn’t feel comfortable going to the table to get them, so she asked me to be her scout. She was quite earnest; had the color all picked out because she could see them at a distance. I got some for her pal, too. When I brought them over she grinned and high-fived me.

*As I handed out bags of apples and oranges, a man snagged my sleeve and said, ‘Thanks, honey. Merry Christmas.’

*A man in a purple jacket came through the line with a cane featuring a beautifully carved eagle head. I said, ‘That’s gorgeous! Did you make that?’ He tipped up his chin and smirked and said, ‘I designed it!’

Speaking of birds, here are two outside the building with a Christmas bagel. Sounds counter-intuitive, but there it is.

IMG_6198

The deliciousness continued that afternoon, hiking in the Currier-and-Ives-like rolling hills and pastures of Navesink, and shooting as much of the dramatic light as I could…

IMG_6199

..and eating a great deal of the sour cream coffee cake I bake myself every year.

IMG_6190

My Raggedy Ann (circa 1970) always sits under my tree, which is in my room so I can look at the lights as I fall asleep. Sometimes when I refill the water in the base I accidentally bump into her and she flops flat backwards, which kills me every time. She’s old and stained, but she’s still got comic mojo.

IMG_6187

Peace and blessings.

 

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

scan0012

Clearly I used to be a Martha acolyte. Pussy willows, dyed eggs and vintage toys from my childhood. The lamb is also a music box that plays ‘Smoke On the Water’. Kidding, ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’. The bunny is a Steiff puppet. Both circa 1968.

Last spring I published a photo essay about eggs. This year I give you three stories about eggs.

1) My friend’s mom is an elegant, vivacious lady in her 60s who was born and raised in Japan. A couple of years ago I gave him a dozen local, organic eggs and asked him to share with his mom. There were brown and Araucana eggs. She didn’t see them until the following morning, but he told me that when she opened up the carton she quite literally squealed. Then I got this fantastic story.

*

Thank you so much for getting us these delicious eggs! Sorry, I didn’t write this letter to you sooner, but I wanted to wait until I tasted both kinds. I love them both, but if I have to choose, I love the blue eggs better. They are creamier, and to me they have more depth to the taste. Yum….. I’m really enjoying them!  Eggs are one of my most favorite foods. When I was small, my mom used to send me to the greengrocer to buy some eggs. I took mom’s shopping bag, which was made with woven hemp, walked to the store. The eggs were in a worn plastic basket, normally 5 eggs in each, just placed on the wooden stand next to the vegetables. No refrigeration. The wife usually tended the store with one of her children on her back in a sling. She transferred the eggs in a bag made with old newspaper for me, so they could reuse the plastic basket again, and put them in my shopping bag. I walked home with my eggs in the bag. In those days in Japan, eggs were an important protein source, and when I had one whole boiled egg to myself, I was very happy. Eggs have a long history of memory in my mind…I just love them!

*

Imagine not taking eggs for granted—being so appreciative of them that you could actually discern the flavor of one variety versus another? It’s mind-blowing. I want that.

IMG_3208

2) Sara Moulton, at the time Executive Chef of Gourmet magazine*, told a story about a cake she and her kitchen testers had fallen for, both for its flavor and for its impressive height. The chef graciously shared the recipe, and Gourmet baked the cake several times, as testers do, to make sure they could replicate it accurately for readers.

But when they did, while the flavor was there, the wonderful height was not. Time after time after time**. They went back to the chef and went through the recipe with a fine-toothed comb, both for ingredients and process, baked it again, but it was still flatter than the first they’d tried. This went on until they somehow learned that the chef lived across the street from a farm that had laying hens, and he routinely bought eggs there. Fresh eggs will make a difference in the lightness, airiness and height of your finished oeuvre.

3) Last one. This was just a nutty fluke, but I was kind of freaking at the time. I was having friends over and had hard-boiled a dozen eggs to make deviled eggs. Cut them all in half and all but one was a double yolk. Crazy, right?

scan0011

Totally not shopped.

And taking a page from Story #2…

I’ve been baking Easter bread all my life, taking over a tradition that’s three generations old, and will be going at it again this Friday and Saturday. But this is the first year I’m making a point to use local NJ eggs—the first time since my grandmother was baking, decades ago. So stoked. With any luck, they’ll make an already spectacular recipe even better, and I’ll have another story to tell.

*God rest its awesome soul. Online’s not the same.

**With apologies to Cyndi Lauper. Hoping you like cake.

Read Full Post »