Recipes + Memories

 

It seems AMAZING that I still make this recipe our neighbor, Betty Neale, gave my mother about 65 years ago.  I also make Eric Carlson's skirt steak though the recipe doesn't carry his name.  The Carlsons and the Neales were our Bel Forest neighbors in Bellevue, Washington, along with the Madisons, and the Nelsons, cousins who lived across the street. Not a surprise that recipes - especially eponymous ones on well-worn cards - are invested with so many memories.  But I enjoy taking time to think about our childhood neighborhood and friends like Susanna Neale with whom I exchange holiday cards.  I wonder about those with whom our family has lost touch and think about one of our across the street cousins who died not long ago.  Our family reconnected with the Carlsons in the 1960's when both families lived in the Chicago suburbs.  The Madisons introduced us to their Washington state college friends the Stotts, who became lifelong friends when we moved from Bellevue to Connecticut where they had also relocated.  Meandering thoughts...all prompted by a recipe card for the rice I'll make this afternoon.

Lessons learned

Thinking about lessons learned from two men whose lives intersected with mine many years ago.  Like others I've taken advantage of this period of self-quarantine and social distancing to peruse a collection of memorabilia that seems to grow exponentially with age.  Today I found this 1984 note from the late Sid Fischman.  A former Board of Estimate & Taxation member, Sid offered his encouragement and support as my mayoral nomination to the same board headed to the City Council for a vote.  I kept this as a reminder of how touched I was by his gesture and my realization of the importance of personal notes.  Not long before leaving Connecticut I told Sid's son Eric about his father's influence on me through this simple kindness.

Earlier this morning I saw this photo of one of my former students in the online media.  I met Ricky in the 1980's when he was in his  20's and he enrolled in a high school equivalency program I facilitated.  At the time he worked as a receptionist at the local hospital. Ricky confidently and quickly completed the competency-based program earning a local high school diploma.  He was a capable and engaging student, demonstrating proficiency in both the basic and life skills required for graduation.  Some months or more later I saw Ricky on the streets of our town.  He was obviously down and out and dealing with stuff.  He greeted me warmly and said he hoped to get his act back together soon.  In subsequent years when I saw Ricky - either in person or through the police blotter - I learned more about his demons, powerfully witnessing the ravages of mental illness and substance abuse on my remarkable student.