Food, Family, and Memory

Remembering Nan

Fall has arrived in San Diego. This morning on our hike Jeff and I could see our breath in the blustery morning air. We loved it.

There's nothing like a chill October morning with a crisp blue sky to evoke feelings of nostalgia. Within minutes of our hike, our talk turned to missing New England and our autumn traditions, like apple picking, pumpkin carving, and decorating for Halloween.

One person in particular has been on our mind: my grandmother, Nan. Last October 5th, Nan turned one hundred years old. She had no idea of the significance of the day. But she did love her whipped cream covered chocolate cake with pink roses, so much so, that she ate two big slices. Watching her enjoy that cake was the best part of the day.

This past July, Nan passed away peacefully, with my mother by her side. Yes, she was fortunate to live to 100. Still, I miss her. We all do.

The Feast of Many Nations

On December 24th, 1963, Philadelphia was hit with a rip-roaring blizzard. I’ll never forget it. By evening, the drifts were well past knee-high. Snowflakes swirled in the halos of streetlights. Driving anywhere was out of the question. Wrapped up in coats, boots, gloves, hats and scarves, and loaded down with bags of presents, my girlfriend Bonnie, my mother and I set out on foot for Aunt Tilda’s house. What would have been a 7-minute drive turned into an hour trek. I remember laughing so hard we could hardly walk. We knew we were crazy to be slogging through such a storm, but we were determined to reach our destination. It was Christmas Eve, and Aunt Tilda had prepared the traditional Italian Feast of Seven Fishes.

Tilda’s house was decorated to the rafters. Twinkling lights outlined every window. Tiny red and green Christmas balls hung from each curtain ruffle. Swags of tinsel garland draped the mirrors. The huge tree was covered with hundreds of ornaments she had been collecting for decades. At its top perched a gossamer angel. And beneath its bedecked branches, nestled the white and gold 30-piece Nativity set that Tilda had stayed up into the wee hours painting on many a sweltering summer night.

Food, Family and Memory