The Hare with Amber Eyes A Family’s Century of Art & Loss

Edmund De Waal

This true account of the author’s ancestors between 1871 and 2009 moves along slowly, almost serenely, and I believe with good reason. His focus from the beginning of this archival labor of love is an inherited 264 piece collection of Japanese netsuke.

Don’t know what those are? Neither did I, and I realize that while the author includes photos of people and places, maps and a family tree, I wish he would have included a photo or illustration of these treasures. I found this article in The Guardian which highlights just a few.

ne·tsu·ke/ˈnetso͝oˌkē,ˈnets(ə)ˌkā/

  1. a small carved ornament, especially of ivory or wood, worn as part of Japanese traditional dress as a toggle by which an article may be attached to the sash of a kimono.

The Ephrussi family banking empire began in Odessa, and their wealth and prestige grew as they ultimately lived in Paris, Switzerland and Austria. The author takes his time describing the family members. They were art collectors, businessmen, ladies of society, lawyers, engineers, and they also happened to be Jewish at a dangerous time in history.

Anti-semitism compelled them to leave Paris, but nothing could help them avoid the night of March 11, 1938 when their slowly unraveling freedoms and peace came to a cataclysmic end in the Anchluss.

The netsuke collection’s amazing journey and survival give De Waal a rope to pull the story from letters, archives and interviews. It’s a testament to holding on to things and letting go as well. Perhaps they are simply too precious to him to share a photo with us, the readers of his story.

A Penny for Your Candy

Sweet memories come back despite quarantine and pandemic realities thanks to Zoom and a slowed down world. One of our free-wheeling conversations among 10 best friends came around to the subject of candy. The important distinction between ‘Buckeyes’ and ‘Bullseyes’ was initially paramount. After that, the memories of buying candy from the penny candy counter came back in sweet little bits. Please share yours.

“I fondly recall the original caramel bullseye candies. And the childhood candy stores, some of which were true blue ‘Mom and Pop’ shops. My fondest memory is of Nate’s on Montrose between Ashland and Paulina, 1/2 block from my grammar school. Our lunch was an hour long at home. After wolfing down pancakes or grilled cheese ‘samiches’ or fried bologna I would head to Nate’s before school continued at 1pm. The line of kids was out the door. Sy and Marianne owned a tiny little store that had a penny candy counter. Marianne had a small change box and watched the candy counter like a hawk. She bossed us to pick fast because kids were waiting. My mom used to tease Nate. One time, she asked Nate for a dozen button holes. He looked all over his store trying to please mom. She told that story a hundred times.”

Larry E.

“There was a small store, (and I mean really small) called The Lee Street Store. It was about 2 blocks from my house. I think it was like a 7 Eleven, but all I really remember was the penny candy. They had everything, Pixie Sticks, black and red licorice, jaw breakers, candy dots on paper, tootsie rolls, Mary Janes, waxed lips, those little bottles that were filled with colored sweetened liquid, Bazooka bubblegum and I’m sure there was much more. I would take my allowance of 10 cents up there and come home with a “big” bag of candy. The owners lived above the store.”

Janet B.

My favorite penny candy store was appropriately called Ma & Pa Candies in downtown La Grange. When you walked in, you could smell the sugar. It was a narrow storefront with counters that seemed to made of planks on sawhorses. There was red gingham fabric tacked around the counters and tilted glass jars of candy with scoops. It was always bustling especially because it was a few doors away from the La Grange movie theater. We’d stock up before the show. I loved rock candy, gum drops and candy dots and nonpareils (aka Snowcaps).

Ann A.

Brazilian Fish Stew ~ Moqueca de Peixe

Cooking Light May 2002 yield 6 servings

Jan fondly recalls great memories of making this special dish for her Aunt Joan and Uncle Dick during their visit to Peachtree City, Georgia on one of their many road trips. She also advises, it is best enjoyed if you have a great sous chef on hand to share it with, of course! From the state of Bahia in northern Brazil, moqueca de peixe (moo-kay-ka da pay-sha) is a tropical fish stew fragrant with garlic, peppers and enriched with coconut milk. Serve with crusty baguette and a favorite green salad. Bon appetite!

Ingredients

1/3 cup fresh lime juice

½ tsp salt

½ tsp fresh ground pepper

2 garlic cloves minced

1 to 1.5 lbs of sea bass, or halibut fillet cut into ½ inch strips

1 to 1.5 lbs large shrimp, peeled and de-veined

2 Tbsp olive oil

2 cups finely chopped onion

1 cup finely chopped green bell pepper

1 cup finely chopped red bell pepper

¾ cup minced green onions

5 garlic cloves, minced

1 bay leaf

2 cups chopped tomatoes (2 large, or 5 roma)

½ cup minced fresh cilantro – divided

1 14 oz can chicken broth

2 8 oz bottles of clam juice

1 cup coconut milk (light if desired)

¼ tsp ground red pepper

Instructions

  1. Combine first 6 ingredients in a large bowl; toss to coat.  Marinate in fridge for 30 mins.
  2. Heat oil in large Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, bell peppers, green onions, garlic and bay leaf…cook 6 minutes, stirring occasionally. Increase heat to med high, add tomatoes, and cook 2 minutes.  Add ¼ cup cilantro, the clam juice and the broth. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes.  Discard bay leaf.
  3. Place one third of vegetable mixture in a blender and pulse until smooth. Pour pureed veg mixture into pan. Repeat procedure with remaining veggie mixture (adding to pan when smooth).  Add coconut milk and red ground pepper to veggie mixture.  Bring to boil over med high heat and cook 3 minutes.  Add fish mixture, cook 3 minutes or until fish is done. Sprinkle with cilantro and serve. Enjoy!

Things We Learned From Our Moms

L.G. Emerson, guest author

Jean Emerson

Years ago, my mother requested me to write down 7 things I learned from her. Apparently the Ladies Guild at her church in upstate New York were inspired by the pastor to take on this project. I thought about it for weeks, jotting down ideas in an old grammar school composition book. And then it slowly evolved into a poem. I share this with you for several reasons. It not only brought a lot of joy to my mother but it synthesized thoughts and emotions that otherwise were muddled and lost in one’s mind. I believe writing is complimentary therapy to reading and talking. It helps organize thoughts and experiences, establishes cause and effects, resolves lingering issues and heals old wounds.  I encourage you to try it. Even if your mother has passed away, it still is a lovely way to cherish her life. Happy Mother’s Day! 

7 Things I Learned From My Mom

When I was just five, you kept me alive.
I lied still in an old cedar chest,
And I learned that I was blessed.
I needed you then- you were always my friend!
 
When I was just seventeen, it was a very sad year.
You showed me the way to shed a good tear.
You see, my father had died, I wanted to hide.
You showed me the way to find some good cheer.
 
When I was still very young, I acted the fool.
Yet, you guided me through school.
You lent me your strength to be a good man,
when your dear mom had passed away in my hand.
 
You taught me how to love my dear spouse,
And fill with love our own blessed house.
Now my wife was my life,
You loved us as one, as a mom loves a son.
 
When I was 31, we had a girl and a son.
I learned to be glad just to be a good dad.
It was a joyous good time.
It was a joyous good time.
 
When I was 35, I wasn’t quite alive.
There was a big void- I didn’t know why.
I still needed one friend until the very end.
You showed me the Word with your love for The Lord.
 
And now that I’m old, life isn’t so cold.
I find in your heart the warmth of a hearth.
When they lay me to rest in an old cedar chest,
I’ll know I was blessed with your love to the end.
You were always my friend!  You were always my friend!
 
L.G. Emerson
18 February 2006

My Life In France by Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme

Bien sur! Julia gives us the best of ‘eat‘, while we ‘read‘ about the most exciting time in her astonishing ‘life‘ in this, her last published book! She devoted painstaking research and an attention to detail which made Mastering the Art of French Cooking a masterpiece. She also managed to travel, meet and befriend the world’s best chefs, and share in a happy marriage with her dear husband, Paul Child. His photographs grace the pages and his great nephew Alex is the co-author who listened to and guided his 91 year old great aunt as they opened family letters and let this intimate story unfold.

The 2009 film, Julie and Julia was based on this book and managed to cleverly combine Julia Child’s discovery of her talent and dedication to French cuisine with the 2002 Julie Powell blog Julie and Julia: 365 Days 524 Recipes. 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen . Take note what a blog looked like in back then! If you want to follow along you’ll have to click through the calendar to advance to the next day. Nothing fancy, but Julie Powell averaged 10 recipes a week in accomplishing her goal!

Passover, Judeo Christian upbringing and COVID 19

This is the first night of Passover 2020. My recollections of Catholic school education on the Old Testament are surprisingly vivid. I have to think St. Louise de Marillac School invested heavily in Old Testament film strips, because that was a favorite of teachers and students alike.

I was fascinated and terrified by the Bible verses depicting the struggles of the Israelites against their Egyptian slave masters. Plagues. Ten of them! They were included on quizzes. Name the ten plagues God beset on the Egyptians – in order! Hang on while I search the web, cause I’m only recalling locusts, hail, frogs and the lamb’s blood on the door. Thank you Wikipedia.

All these years later, I am not surprised that this graphic Biblical content stuck with me and may have overshadowed the gentler parables and even major miracles I would learn about later.

But this year, this Passover, I think about people like me, people all over the globe, huddled in their homes. We’ve learned of a great, powerful threat to our health, our safety, our families, our very future and we sit and wait and pray for it to pass us over.

We didn’t learn of the Seder meal in all those years at St. Louise, and that is a pity, since it is the prayerful, holy ritual that I’d rather focus on. So tonight, though we can’t all gather, we can remember that there was a threat to an ancient people, a Passover and an Exodus.

‘American Gods’. Not Heavenly.

When friends visited recently, and discussion turned to books we were each reading, they recommended I read Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, partly due to the fact that much of the book takes place in Wisconsin. A whole chapter devoted to a darkly mystical trip to The House on the Rock, then on to the little town of Lakeside which is very ‘up North’, and other references to locales like Madison, Chicago and Cairo Illinois, and even the pinnacle of American tourist kitsch, Rock City & Ruby Falls.

The geographer in me was hooked! Problem was I could never snag a copy from the library as it was perpetually ‘checked out’. I decided to read Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch, co-authored by Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and found it delightfully intriguing as any saga about averting Armageddon can possibly be. Then, on to reading Stardust, Mr. Gaiman’s tiny tale where fairies make mischief in their own little Brigadoon. Another ‘yea read’ as far as I am concerned.

Finally got my hands on a library copy of American Gods and sadly, can’t understand what the fuss was about! It plods along at many moments when it should come to life. There are well-crafted descriptions of places and the moods those places inspire, but it left me underwhelmed. The identities and personalities of the gods themselves were muddled as if Mr. Gaiman planned to unveil them in slow motion. The trouble is he never gets around to defining them as characters I cared about. As for the classic American locations, they seemed like gimmicks.

So I won’t waste your time further describing a book I’m surprised I don’t recommend. We’ve all been there. Investing time into a book that keeps you saying, “It will get going. Just another chapter or two.” Sometimes a brick is just a brick. Maybe the TV versions do it justice, which would be a switch to the usual, “The book was so much better than the movie.”

Courage is not the absence of fear.

COURAGE
Courage is armor
A blind man wears;
That calloused scar
Of outlived despairs;
Courage is Fear
That has said its prayers.

Karle Wilson Baker

(Mrs.) Karle Wilson Baker (1878–1960) was an American poet and author, born in Little Rock, Ark. to Kate Florence Montgomery Wilson and William Thomas Murphey Wilson. Educated at the University of Chicago, she studied under poet William Vaughn Moody and novelist Robert Herrick, and later went on to write her own poems and novels. Wikipedia: Karle Wilson Baker

Poetry Foundation October 1921, Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, “Three Small Poems”