Synchronicity

Synchronicity: the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection.

I have long been fascinated with how events take place that seem to be, somehow, connected, even while there's no logical way they are. We've all experienced it, that feeling … that maybe things operate on a level that's different than what's visible.  Much more than a coincidence.  

One such event occurred many years ago.  During the Christmas holidays,  a friend, Randy, a former employee at Rosalie's in the very early days, called and asked if she and her boyfriend could spend a few days with us in Marblehead.  We loved Randy and were anxious to meet her new love and to see her again.

One morning during their visit, we were sitting around the kitchen table chatting after breakfast when the delivery van from the local greenhouse pulled up to the house.  A beautiful bouquet arrived from Hawaii sent by Tadea and Frank, another couple who were employees at the restaurant during the same period that Randy was there.  

Well, we thought that was such a coincidence especially since the small store front that was Rosalie's first location only sat about thirty diners with a staff of maybe four in the dining room, and three of them were sitting right there around the kitchen table.  More than two years had passed since we'd worked together. 

A short-time later, the mailman arrived, delivering an invitation to a Christmas party from Jean, yet another person who worked with Randy, Tadea and Frank. Someone sang the music to the Twilight Zone. It was too delightfully weird, as if the moment was being orchestrated by invisible forces - more than a coincidence we all agreed. It felt so good that we were all together in some strange way.

This was remarkable, but often I am left with this feeling that wow, I can't believe you called.  I was just thinking about you.  Or I was just thinking about movie, I can't believe you mentioned it. That kind of thing, not as dramatic as what happened during Randy's visit but enough to wonder. 

Here are some of the lyrics from Sting's song, "Synchronicity"

A connecting principle, 

Linked to the invisible  

Almost imperceptible  

Something inexpressible  

Science insusceptible  

Logic so inflexible  

Casually connectible  

Yet nothing is invincible

A star fall, 

a phone call   

It joins all  

Synchronicity  

It's so deep, 

it's so wide  

You're inside   

Synchronicity.  

I recently picked up a used book than is simply a collection of Sting's lyrics. I remember the song, and it was fun to read the lyrics again. 

I refuse to let this snow get me down.  I have pushed it out of my mind.  Just this morning I thought about how I cannot wait for the good weather.  

My friend Suzie and I sometimes meet on a park bench in Rockport at the beach or in Marblehead overlooking Crocker Park positioned in the sun with a basket of goodies, a little wine maybe.  

Last time we were picnicking it was on the rocks in Annisquam where we sketched the beautiful beach.  This winter we meet often at the Willow Tree in Annisquam and enjoy a crab cake BLT, Suzie's favorite.  

But sitting outside on a beautiful, comfortable day is the best. I can't wait for the warmer weather.  

In the meantime I will collect all my picnicking paraphernalia:  small quilts, baskets, especially with handles, pretty cloth napkins.  I think I will make some pate, my favorite for picnics and freeze them so I will be ready when the warm days arrive. I will bring my new, old book written by Sting.  His lyrics are  beautiful, a collection of "dreams, fragments and fantasies, anger and romance'.  

Shortly after Todd and I met he made me a cassette for the car with some of the songs that he liked, amongst them were some by Sting.  I especially loved "Every Breath You Take."  I thought it was a beautiful love song but in reading Sting's account I learned otherwise.  His original intent was to make it so, but he ended up with something darker because everything seemed to have disintegrated, his marriage, his band, his sanity.  

However it did become one of the songs that defined the 80's, even though it's lyrics are both seductive and sinister. I still love the song and it brings back memories that warm my heart.

In the meantime enjoy my recipe for meatloaf, serve it with gravy as an open faced sandwich now and later as picnic fare - with cornichons, a good baguette from Alexander's on Main Street in Gloucester, mustard and mayo on the side.  

Meatloaf

My meatloaf mixture is the same as when making meatballs, so feel free to make both at the same time.

— Soak three slices of Italian or any firm bread, crusts removed, in milk.

— After five minutes, squeeze the milk out of the bread.

— In a bowl, beat a large egg and add the squeezed out bread and a pound of ground beef (or a combination of a third ground veal, beef and pork), mix it to incorporate it without overworking it, as it will get tough if you do.

— In the meantime, chop a small onion in very tiny dice, soak a handful of raisins in water, chop a few sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley and a clove of garlic and add to the bowl.

— Sprinkle a quarter cup of grated Parmesan cheese over the mixture and drain the raisins and add them, too. Mix gently to combine. Season with salt and pepper.

— Grease a flat baking pan and pour the meat mixture onto it and shape into a loaf about 2 inches by 10 inches — or 2-inch balls for meatballs.

Bake in a 350-degree oven until golden brown, or for meatballs, bake for 15 minutes then turn and bake another 15, then simmer in sauce for 45 minutes.

Gravy for meatloaf

— Heat three tbsp. of olive oil in a small pan and add a half cup each of chopped carrot, onion and celery or fennel and gently sauté.

— Add three tbsp. of flour and cook for a few minutes.

Add two cups of chicken broth and three tbsp. soy sauce and simmer for five to 10 minutes on low heat.

— Serve a nice baguette to make an open faced sandwich with a slice of meatloaf covered in gravy. I made a green salad with fresh strawberries and for dessert I made rocky road ice cream, which was our treat during the Oscars. After popcorn, of course.

.

Thursday Thoughts

Yesterday we had a delightful morning at our grandkids school.  It was a practice concert for one that the fourth and fifth grade would give at a senior center shortly after.

The song selection was a throwback. Four Leaf Clover, Singin in the Rain, You are My Sunshine. the old time favorites. Too bad they didn't ask the audience to join in, because I knew every song. and I was sort of quietly singing along without invitation.

I was reminded of when my mother was suffering from a not so early onset of Altheimers disease.  At her assisted living facility, she would be in somewhat of a fog a great deal of the time.  However, if there was a pianist who sang and played some old time favorites she would be so happy and would sing along, not missing a beat.  Best was when she would start dancing to the music.  It was great to watch. My friend Barbara Ross, a nurse, took such good care of my parents during this period.

One night when I had my restaurant an older woman called me over to her table to introduce me.  She said she knew my grandparents.  Apparently, there were parties where the  people would celebrate with their pisana from the various parts of Italy.

She was from Avolino where my grandmother's family was from.  She said my grandmother would love to dance and was not shy.  My grandfather played the flute, and or the mandolin and he was shy and probably embarrassed by my grandmother's behavior.  What else is new?  He was a very dignified Roman and she was more like peasant stock, a great spirit, lots of fun.

I thought about my chat with this woman, who still lived in the East Boston  apartment where she hosted my grandparents on these occasions.  I love thinking about how much fun they must have had, especially Nonni.  They deserved whatever fun they had, they were such hard workers.  I wish there was a way I could let them know how much I appreciate their sacrifices, their hard work.  Supporting ten kids was not unusual back in the day.  I am lucky that because I am one of the older grandchildren, I have memories of them.  I feel very fortunate for that.

Talking to Aunt Esther today, we both lamented on how great it would be to have a motion picture, voices of those people we loved.  I would call them Emotion Pictures, sure to bring laughter and tears.

We are going to the North End to meet friends for dinner tomorrow nite.  My son George recommended  a restaurant.  I will keep you posted.

We are hosting a brunch on Sunday.  Todd already picked up the lamb sausages from New England market in Peabody.  I will make a fresh tomato sauce with that, more of a lunch and I made a basil ice cream to top my pear tart.

Monday I am having my left eye's cataracts removed.  The right eye was easy and my eyesight is so improved.  Hope the snow melts a little over the week end.

Oscars and Eating go Together

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Meatloaf sandwich

Meatloaf sandwiches: the ultimate comfort food.

Posted: Wednesday, February 25, 2015 3:00 am

By Rosalie Harrington / Item Food Editor | 0 comments

I’ve always loved the movies. My mother used to give my brother and I a quarter Saturdays and we’d go to the boulevard theatre on Revere Beach. The movie was 12 cents and the giant Hershey bars — at least I thought they were — cost a nickel.

A few years later my mother and her boyfriend took us with them on Sunday night movies at the RKO Keith Theater in Boston. We’d stop at Pizzeria Regina in the North End for an amazing pizza experience. Even more special were the vaudeville acts during intermission.

As a teenager, it was Friday night at the Seville in East Boston. Afterward, we would go to the Neptune Diner for a grilled cheese and a frappe. A dream date. I realized that my husband, Todd, was my perfect soulmate when we went to our first movie together and discussed it afterward over Chinese food.

We still consider Saturday movie day. We often go to the Kendall Theatre in Cambridge to see good non-Hollywood-type films, but we saw nearly every movie nominated for this year’s Oscars. So I really looked forward to Sunday’s Academy Awards. I used to host Oscar parties where everyone dressed as their favorite actor/actresses, but this year it was more leisurely. Prior to the show, we dined on the ultimate comfort food — meatloaf — and chilled prosecco, an Italian sparkling wine. It was just the two of us, as I get impatient when there’s too much chit-chat. I love every moment of Oscar and hate to miss any of it.

Meatloaf

My meatloaf mixture is the same as when making meatballs, so feel free to make both at the same time.

— Soak three slices of Italian or any firm bread, crusts removed, in milk.

— After five minutes, squeeze the milk out of the bread.

— In a bowl, beat a large egg and add the squeezed out bread and a pound of ground beef (or a combination of a third ground veal, beef and pork), mix it to incorporate it without overworking it, as it will get tough if you do.

— In the meantime, chop a small onion in very tiny dice, soak a handful of raisins in water, chop a few sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley and a clove of garlic and add to the bowl.

— Sprinkle a quarter cup of grated Parmesan cheese over the mixture and drain the raisins and add them, too. Mix gently to combine. Season with salt and pepper.

— Grease a flat baking pan and pour the meat mixture onto it and shape into a loaf about 2 inches by 10 inches — or 2-inch balls for meatballs.

Bake in a 350-degree oven until golden brown, or for meatballs, bake for 15 minutes then turn and bake another 15, then simmer in sauce for 45 minutes.

Gravy for meatloaf

— Heat three tbsp. of olive oil in a small pan and add a half cup each of chopped carrot, onion and celery or fennel and gently sauté.

— Add three tbsp. of flour and cook for a few minutes.

Add two cups of chicken broth and three tbsp. soy sauce and simmer for five to 10 minutes on low heat.

— Serve a nice baguette to make an open faced sandwich with a slice of meatloaf covered in gravy. I made a green salad with fresh strawberries and for dessert I made rocky road ice cream, which was our treat during the Oscars. After popcorn, of course.

With Sports So Hot, Who Needs Florida?

If someone had told me fifty years ago that the highlight of my winter was going to be my granddaughter's basketball games, I would have thought them a little crazy.  Certainly, I would probably be in Florida or someplace warm and the thought of going out into the freezing cold to watch a game was not going to be my thing.

My mother and step father couldn't wait to get to Florida every year. And everytime we talked it was about how they missed the kids.  They would never have thought about coming home for a week or so to cushion the lonesomeness that they apparently felt.  Too expensive they would say when I would approach the subject.  But yet they would go on Cruises to the Eastern Mediterranean or tour Russia with a group of New Yorkers that they had never met.  The way they spent their money was their business, God knows.

A few years ago I rented a place in Florida for three months.  It was much too long, I knew that but you have to rent for three months.  It is some sort of law in these condos.  The first month was great because one of my kids and their families visited.  The second month was a disaster because I missed everyone and an emergency came up and I had to fly home immediately.  That was the end of my rental experience.  A good lesson for me.  I am not the type to be away from my family for the winter, blizzards or not, it is not my thing.

I love the short visits to Florida, however, the wonderful feeling when you get off the plane and feel the balminess in the air.  I miss my daughter Kathy who lives in Florida, but thankfully she gets home often and we talk all the time.  I miss my mother and our visits to Disneyworld with the grandchildren.  I don't miss my step fathers inability to drive from point A to point B without getting lost for hours on end and then fighting with my mother like it was her fault.

The last time we were at Disney world my grandaughter Kelley and I pushed my parents in wheel chairs all over the   @%*&# park.  We took my stepfather who had several stents put in his body to help his heart function nearly fainted when we took him on a ride that was like an elevator that dropped fifteen floors in a second.  Neither Kelley nor I saw the sign that warned people with heart issues not to even watch the thing drop from outside the fence, forget about getting on it.

Three times since my birthday my son and his family postponed getting together for dinner because of weather.  The other nite we made it to Newburyport in still not ideal weather, to a restaurant called BRINE.  I had been there this summer with my husband and we loved it for lunch.  Our dinners were all wonderful.  The menu has a great variety pf oysters with very creative dipping sauces.  There is raw fish and homemade sausage, a different treatment nightly.  A carefully chosen wine list.  It was too good and the company was delightful.  Watching "my girls" as I call them grow up is so delightful.  Last year or so we were all about "Thrifting".  They loved hitting the thrift shops with me.  That changed overnite.  Boys and Bikinis, that is this period.  Nonni doesn't fit in as well but that's O.K.  I still love their company and I am grateful, so grateful for my Thursday nite dinners at their house and their parents fabulous cooking and I am grateful for the occasional Scrabble game, if they don't have too much homework.

Last nite, as we do twice a week we had dinner with the boys (ages 9 and 6).  Part of our ritual is to have a "Question of the Day."  Last nite we discussed the Chinese Birth years and that was interesting, finding out who was the year of the rat, pig, lion, tiger, etc. The boys knew all about it, the adults, not so much.

I told them about the PBS program I had watched Monday on Italian Americans and a little about when my grandparents arrived and what a struggle it was because my grandfather had to deal with name calling.  They were very serious about this subject.  I can't wait for the weekend to take them to a new movie, where I mostly watch them instead of the screen.  I know, I'm too much, but Todd is the same way, thank God.

Thoughts on Italian Americans

The Italian Americans

Watching the PBS special on this subject Tuesday brought back some memories.  After Paolo and Mercedes and his daughters left for a goodbye dinner we had for them, Todd cleaned up as usual and I sat just in time with a nice glass of wine and watched this special.  It seemed appropriate, the timing as I thought about Paolo coming to the States from Genoa  several years ago,with little than HOPE but amazing talent. 

At his mother's apron strings he learned the simplicity of fresh local ingredients and how to create magic with them.  He arrived in the fiercely competitive Bay area in San Francisco and made  a name for himself  with his Genoese dishes.  His pesto won National prizes.  I have never experienced a smoother, more fragrant basil and pinenut dish than his and  folded into his homemade handkerchief pasta was and is heavenly. It was there that he met his beautiful fair haired wife Mercedes, also in the kitchen of the restaurant where he worked.  Her family beckoned back in Gloucester and they moved here with their daughters. 

In the past few years Paolo's cuisine has been enjoyed by many on the North Shore.  His creative dishes have garnered a reputation as one of the top chefs that the North Shore has experienced, ever.  California beckoned recently and as I said "Napa is a little more like Genoa weather wise"  Si, Si, he acknowledged with a big smile.  We will miss their friendship , their food and we look forward to our visit with them.

 Unlike the immigrants who came first from the South who suffered from severe poverty, Paolo had already been trained well.  Leaving Genoa and the Italian Lifestyle was difficult.His story brought back memories of another time for me.  

When my parents divorced when I was about six and my brother three, my grandparents played a big role in our lives.  My working mother would drop us off at their house and their adult children were off making their own life, accept for Aunt Rachel who was born the same year as I.  We were best pals.  She died of Leukemia at eight years old and my heart and my grandparents as well as many others was broken.  

My grandfather worked in a shoe factory,  To make ends meet he would bring home pieces of leather that he would work on  to make more money on the week ends.  In between he gardened, made mason walls and paths, and enjoyed life.  The hardest part of life was the way he was treated by his fellow workers who called him names, made him feel an outcast, WOP, Guinea were some of the names.  His home was his escape from this.  His joy came from listening to The Phantom on the radio and Enrico Carusos records, and gathering with friends from Italy where he felt very connected. But it wasn't all pretty.

My grandparents found a piece of land in North Revere that was for sale.  They visited practically every week end, picked dandelions, mushrooms and picnicked.  They loved it.  One day another family seemed to be enjoying the same thing.  My grandfather approached a man about his age, also Italian, and he asked gently, I am sure as he was a very soft spoken, but kind of formal Roman.  

It seems that this man thought this land was his and that he too was paying five dollars every month for the past five years for the property, which would some day be paid for.  It seems that the man who was accepting their money was a fraud.  Back in the day people like these men did not think about lawyers.  It was not part of their thinking and it wasn't affordable. 

I don't think my Nonno ever got over this.

EVERYONE  asks me if I have a BLOG, so I'm familiar with the word, but not really sure what it is.

My husband Todd tells me it is like a personal newspaper.  How personal, I wonder?

I write a column for the Lynn Item. That's not too personal.  It is about food etc.

But years ago when Todd was both the editor of a newspaper and the program director of a radio station in Nashua N. H. I wrote a column called "Delicious Encounters."  And because I was "The Wife"  I was front page AND I had a radio show by the same name.  Of course I got a false sense of my own self worth as a writer and as a talk show host but that didn't get in the way of my having a blast doing both for two years. Experience is the best teacher. Now I am not sure what I learned but it was fun.  So here goes.

Today was the day after Valentines Day.  I didn't get my usual large boquet of roses but to tell you the truth I was glad.  I hate how expensive they are.  I bought myself a very cute boquet of pink roses at the Stop and Shop for 7.95 and they lasted over a week.  My best friend Susie's sister and brother came in to Boston for her 50th Birthday and asked us to help celebrate. Would I recommend a hotel and a place to eat?  Would I!  Perfect choice was our favorite which has become Suzie's too is Scampo at the Liberty Hotel.  We love Lydia Shire and her cooking is to die for and how convenient to have as much wine as you like and go to bed upstairs at the hotel.  We had a delightful time.  Her siblings are a riot.  We had a great time.  You cannot miss at Scampo.  Last month we had a fabulous dinner there with our friend Allain who came in from London and everytime we eat there it never disappoints.

Thursday nite we went to a goodbye party for our good friends Paolo Laboa and his wife Mercedes.  They are leaving the area to take over a restaurant in Napa and they will be sorely missed.  He had a short run in Gloucester where people experienced his amazing talent.  I am happy for them that they get to live in one of the best parts of this country.  They met in California and so it will be like going home. Paolo is from Genoa and the weather there will be more like  what he is accustomed too.  They were suppose to come to our house for a goodbye dinner today but because of our fifth snow storm/blizzard they had to cancel for another nite before they leave.

Appropo of that here is a letter to our new governor Charlie Baker who is awesome.  He's a natural for this job.

Dear Charlie:  Thanks for giving us several heads ups since you took over last month.  We appreciate all your warnings about road safety and how you enjoy giving us the measurements of the snowfall.  But we really appreciate your advise to people to"Look in on your neighbors, especially the elderly".  Well our neighbor Jeremy must have heard you because he has shovelled us out more than you can imagine.  We're not even that elderly!  Thank you Charlie.  We hope that the weather will improve so we will get to see your other areas of talent.  You are very good at the weather warnings.

Because I like to cook, Jeremy, the snow removal neighbor gets a reward from us.  Today it was chicken soupe and rice crispy/chocolate cookies with ganache and chocolate covered strawberries. I enclosed a card that I sort of recycled.  It was Todd's valentine.  It said "BE MINE"  I crossed out Mine and substituted OURS and signed both our names.  I hope he gets the joke.

By the way I am waiting to hear from my friend Suzie to give me a report on The fifty shades of Gray.  Todd wasn't interested so we saw Mr Turner and we bought liked it.  The paintings at the Peabody Essex were amazing and it was interesting to see his take on SEX.  I was a little surprised by it.

If you would like to make a simple dessert you can melt a couple of cups of chocolate chips in a double boiler.  Be careful not to burn the chocolate.  So just simmer the water without the top pan submerged.  Stir in enough rice crispies, about three cups or more to coat them well with the melted chocolate.  With a mini ice cream  scoop , scoop out generous portions onto a jelly roll or cooky sheet, about two inches apart.  Make a little more and dip strawberries. Allow to cool and enjoy.