Generally, I’m not much of a cryer. I’m not boasting when I say that. Trust me when I say there are moments when I wish for little more than a sob session to release the emotions that at times well up inside me and practically beg to get out. Honestly, tears would be welcome.
But, like I said, I’m not much of a cryer.
Last week, though, my eyes filled with tears repeatedly. What can I say? Children and full moons apparently are my weakness.
It started with a book. Author Nikki Grimes’ recent memoir, OrdinaryHazards, relates the story of her childhood. Grimes, the second daughter born to a mentally ill, alcoholic mother and a musician father with a gambling habit, survived a childhood that was rife with abuse, neglect and instability.
What saved Grimes and propelled her forward were words and their power to provide comfort, hope and confirmation of her own value. The intuitive and undeniable impulse she had to write, saved her.
This quote really resonated with me –
She’d prepare a hearty soup for them from scratch or bake a batch of cookies to lift their spirits. For such kindnesses, that mother was beloved by untold unfamiliar people beyond our door. On them, she lavished the attention I had once been hungry for. Oddly, her redirected affections made a certain sense to me. Apparently, my sister and I had made the colossal mistake of not being strangers.
My childhood was nothing like the one of neglect and emotional abuse experienced by Nikki Grimes and her sister, but I’ve known students who have suffered a similar existence…girls who have been sexually abused in the same beds in which they had once been tucked into and boys who have been told by their grandparents that they are no longer welcome to live in the only family home they’ve known.
I work in a middle school. My students are children. While mere words may not save children who are living in dire situations, I believe my most important job as a librarian is to provide kids with books that can do just that, save them, by letting them know that they’re not alone, they’re valued and life can get better.
The fullest moon in the sky has more of a chance of holding all of the sadness I feel, than my eyes have of containing my tears.
Writing for 2 blogs can be annoying. Sometimes I struggle with the decision about where to post my writing – is it a DelSo or CivMix piece? Are the readers the same people in both places? If I post it in one place, how do I share it with the other site?
Honestly, I’ve got no answers, but I’m doing my best. Hopefully you’ll appreciate my efforts as well as these recent posts.
I can’t say that Elvis was my very first crush (Tom Jones holds that honor), but he was the first performer whose albums I owned and played incessantly. My mother would order them for me from commercials on television and I would wait impatiently for the UPS guy to deliver the records to my house weeks later. The haste of Amazon Prime was unimaginable in the 70s.
The best weeks of the year, from a television viewing perspective, were the ones in which the 4:30 movie featured Elvis movies like Blue Hawaii and Viva Las Vegas. Even as a kid I knew the quality of these movies was suspect, but they were just so damn fun to watch that it didn’t even matter.
August 16, 1977, the day Elvis died, is a day I’ll never forget. I was in Long Island at a shopping center that had outdoor speakers broadcasting a radio station playing pop music. There was an interruption in the programming and a man’s voice announced the shocking news that Elvis Presley was dead.
It was my first rock and roll heartbreak.
Had Elvis lived, he would now be 85 years old. On Saturday night the Hangar on the Hudson in Troy is hosting a birthday party to celebrate the King of Rock and Roll. Johnny Rabb, the Tichy Boys and other special guests will be performing in what promises to be an epic party in the King’s honor. My dancing shoes might not be blue suede, but they’ll be on my feet nonetheless.
The holidays are a magical season. Money, resolve and time all disappear faster than you can say “abracadabra” during these short December days. Accepting that what one gets in exchange for those commodities are opportunities to share time and laughter making new memories, it’s a trade I’m happy to make.
This first weekend of my holiday break has been filled with activity – and cookies. Lots of cookies. Friday’s original evening plan had been to revisit Soul Night downtown at Lost & Found. We went last month and really enjoyed the music, vibe and diverse crowd. But, I caught an ad on Facebook for a Funk Night at Savoy, which was easily within walking distance, and it appealed on a cold night. No regrets – DJ Trumastr was on his game as usual and the Manhattans (yes, two) were impeccably crafted. It was a fun night.
Saturday brought another opportunity to stay in the neighborhood, but this time it was DelSo, rather than Center Square. A neighbor’s annual holiday party brought together a wonderful crowd of yogis/educators/creative types who all shared at least one common friend, the hostess, but often the connections between guests exceeded that minimal number. Albany, Smalbany, I love you. Another merry event with lots of laughs.
Sunday it was our turn to host for the first night of Hanukkah. The plan was traditional latkes, soup, salad and a couple of quiches. And cookies, of course. Prep, beyond the task of preparing and frying latkes, was well in hand until minor tragedy struck – or stubbed, as in a broken toe which required medical attention and prevented the potatoes from being transformed into latkes. What to do?
My friend and uber talented chef, Ric Orlando, had shared on FaceBook that New World Bistro Bar was featuring his “Beat Bobby Flay” latkes…hmmm. Why stress when I could place an order and simply stop to pick them up on my way to my sweetie’s house? Done – and no lingering odor of frying at home with which to contend.
While nothing replaces a hot latke out of the pan, Ric’s latkes were wonderful. They’re large and magically manage to be crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside and nearly devoid of oil or greasiness. After reheating them on a rack on a baking sheet, everyone happily loaded on sour cream and applesauce and we feasted. Crisis diverted, we enjoyed a festive evening with lovely people.
I’m not going to claim that bringing latkes to dinner for the first night of Hanukkah is a miracle or anything, but I believe many would be happier to see a resourceful woman arriving with award winning latkes, than three “wise” men bearing Frankincense. I know I would.
After not getting around to making a pot of sauce with meatballs and sausage a few weeks ago, I found myself with a container of ricotta cheese for which I needed to find a purpose. After a quick Epicurious search I came up with the perfect use – Ricotta Pancakes.
In my house, we’re big on pancakes. Since being shamed by a foodie friend for using Bisquik, I’ve been making mine from scratch and I actually have the recipe* committed to memory. It’s so easy it makes me regret all those years of paying for a packaged mix filled with all sorts of unpronounceable ingredients. I use the same basic recipe for waffles and play around by adding canned pumpkin and nutmeg or using buttermilk or almond extract to change things up because, like I said, we like pancakes and variety isn’t a bad thing when it comes to breakfast.
But, back to those ricotta pancakes.
The recipe I found was simple and used common ingredients. Separating the eggs and beating the whites into lovely peaks is the second hardest part, with the most challenging thing being finding the ability to stop after eating two. Or three. These pancakes are wonderfully light and airy with orange zest adding a delicious punch. I bet a dash of Grand Marnier would be an amazing addition.
This recipe, along with the NYT’s Dutch Baby recipe, is a keeper. Do you have a favorite pancake recipe I should try?
*1 1/4 c flour
2 T sugar
2 t baking powder
milk to the consistency you like, more milk = thinner pancakes
I feel like I spend a lot of time apologizing for not having more time. Truly, time is the only thing I want more of in this life…October has been another month of concerts and games and parties and events and fun and not writing as often as I would like. There’s been something else, though, occupying my time – the HBO series, Succession.
This saga tells the story of the Roy family, (reputed to be loosely based on the Murdoch family), media tycoons led by patriarch Logan Roy. The twisted family dynamics, camera angles that suggest reality tv and liberal sprinkling of foul language make for an addicting guilty pleasure and I’m all over it.
I’m just starting season two which, from what I’ve read, was partially filmed in the Albany. As if I needed another reason to binge this show. Have you seen it?What are you watching?
Believe it or not, DelSo is nearly ten years old. It’s been a pretty interesting run for me. Writing and sharing my life with people who take in my words, without looking in my eyes, is a sometimes odd experience.
My original concept, an inspired idea without much planning (aka The Silvia Story), was a community blog with neighborhood things and local events. I had birthed the sometimes hated name, DelSo and, for some weird reason, it stuck. I’ll never stop smiling just thinking about “DelSo” appearing in some official city mailings and on Google Maps. Kids, you can make up your own language!
Anyway, my idea was to explore happy hours around town and write about it. Low key, kind of insider foodie stuff. Fun. You know, light.
My life changed and the blog changed. There was a lot of emotion and readers responded. I grew to accept that the stories I shared were, in fact, mine to tell and if my transparency revealed the shadows of others, it wasn’t my intention.
DelSo has been a consistent outlet for nearly a decade, something I never imagined. Since last spring I’ve also been publishing pieces on a new platform, CivMix. Some of the topics are similar to things I’ve written about right here, but they’ve been tweaked a little differently. Truthfully, I sometimes wrestle with where to publish what. It feels like some weirdo writer’s infidelity thing. Whatever.
Here are some recent posts I’ve written over at CivMix. Hope you enjoy them – S