Fall Teases with its Back-to-School Breezes

September Summer Sun Sparkles in September at Davenport Park 

 

The crisp morning air brings focus to reflection and anticipation of what's to come: New school year.  Fresh paper. Clean notebooks. New pens. 

Ready, set, and almost go.

My grandmother warned me that the seasons would speed up. Seems like I just dipped my toe into summer. I push back the rush feeling, and let my mind juggle the events of the past couple of months—the reunions, the dinners, the beach visits, the farmers' markets and their summertime produce. 

And this brings me to the tomatoes! 

If you're lucky enough to have a garden—and/or to have access to a farmers' market—then you know: tomatoes abound! Gazpacho, the traditional Spanish cold soup that celebrates salad in a bowl, is perfect one for this time of year. (In fact--I just looked up that I had shared a version of this recipe on September 5, 2014 in LoHud, when I was writing the Latin Twist column!)

I'm including my basic one here below. So many versions are possible, but this is one of my family favorites: 

Gazpacho

 

Serves  4 to 6

Ingredients

               6 large ripe tomatoes (a mixture of heirloom tomatoes is nice!)

                       1 medium cucumber, peeled and coarsely chopped

                       1 garlic clove, coarsely chopped

                       1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika

                       1/2 teaspoon sugar (optional)

                       1 teaspoon salt

                       2 scallions, a shallot, or one small red onion, chopped

                       1/2 medium green bell pepper

                       1/4 cup olive oil

                       2 tablespoons wine vinegar 

                    Chicken broth to taste (depending on how thick you like your gazpacho)

                       1/4 teaspoon hot sauce (or to taste)

                       1/4 teaspoon crushed oregano

                       1 cup toasted bread crumbs

                       Toasted croutons, and/or chopped parsley, basil, parsley for garnish

                                   

Instructions

1. Coarsely chop the tomatoes.

2. In a food processor or blender, combine the tomatoes, cucumber, garlic, paprika, sugar, salt, scallions, and green pepper.

3. Combine the olive oil, vinegar, hot sauce, oregano, and bread crumbs.

4. Add to the vegetables and blend for 1 minute (you may have to do this in batches!).

5. Cover and chill thoroughly (ideally overnight).

6. When ready to serve, if soup is too thick, add a bit of water, or chilled broth to get a good purée consistency. 

7. Garnish and serve. 

Back to reflecting on this summer, which are still fresh and well documented in photos and notes, continue. I scroll through the memories, which include:  

• Sofia’s Graduation and Visit  
•  Celebration of Sofia's Graduation
• Sol Food Tours' Beginning
• Summer Salads, Ceviches, Gazpachos--and Much, Much More!  
• The Beach, the Beach, the Beach—
• Teaching ESL at the New Rochelle Public Library
• New Babies in the Family-
• Flamenco Classes in Midtown Manhattan
• A week of Flamenco Dance in Sevilla, Spain
• Reunion in Barcelona with my Roommates-
•  MOMA-
• The Whitney
• Farmers Markets
• Dinners with New Recipes
• New Stories to Write 
• Korean Soap Operas to Watch
• Flamenco shows at The Joyce and La Nacional
• Reunion with my Dear Friend in Chicago
• Many, many, many Audio Books to Accompany my Runs and Walks

Like cards in the air, the scenes dance in my head.

And now I plan ahead—notebook poised, next trip planned, next tour planned, reunions with loved ones, dance classes, writing, reading, listening, shows, ESL classes yet to be planned! 

Ah....September! 

 

Almost Spring's Big Dig

Mom and a Storyboard

“Look at her!” my friend Sus declares as we uncover photos of my mom.

I’ve found the black and white photos of my mother at work. She was one of the first female art directors on the “mad men” scene of Madison Avenue. I heard the story so many times, about how I was almost born at Y&R (Young & Rubicam) but how she just barely made it to Flowers and Fifth Hospital—after a quick stop to pick up a nightgown in Bloomingdale’s—and then on to the hospital to give birth to me. 

I go through photos—there are hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. They date back to the time my mom was little, posing on the Boardwalk in front of her parents’ home in Brighton Beach. Posing…they were always posing.

Words are tangled in my throat as I peruse her sketchbooks, and flash back to the times she sketched at parties, when curious guests couldn’t help but come by and ask what she was doing, look over her shoulder, admire her fluid intake and translation of the scenes around her.

I was not like the guests; her sketching made me uncomfortable.

Now, as I leaf through the dozen or so sketchbooks, I have an uneasiness mixed with pride and regret that I didn’t enjoy her drawing—while she was drawing. Why did her sketching bother me? Why didn’t I accept it more readily? Why wasn’t I proud then? 

Mom's Sketches in Spain 

As some of you may know, now over two years ago, we moved from a house into an apartment. At that big downsizing time, I took a lot of my old photos—okay not only mine, but those from and of my parents (their ex-spouses!), grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents-in-law, siblings, kids…well, you get the picture. Tons of photos! They were packed into large Rubbermaid tubs and put into storage.

One of my new year’s resolutions was to go through, sort, keep or toss: my big dig. And so, it’s begun.

It’s amazing how many blurry photos, how many duplicates, how many “unknowns,” and how many trees and sunsets were captured. And as I sift, I try to identify criteria for saving.

My criteria has yet to be defined. I do know that I’m not going to scan them all; I want to keep the “hard copies.” Not sure what I’ll do with them, but I’m enjoying going through them…remembering so very many moments.

In another box, I’ve found letters. Those I’m loathe to toss…at least some of them. Especially words from people, like my parents, who are no longer on this earth with us. I've put those aside for now. I'll read them all. Eventually.   

This all comes back to my kitchen. As many of you may also know, food is another way I keep people ever-present. Menu planning is something I enjoy daily: I think about who’s going to eat it, what the weather is like, what’s available, and what people might be craving.

I open up a recipe box, and look for one of our Christmas Eve classics: The orange Jell-O mold, complete with shredded carrots and crushed pineapple, which she always made in the shape of a Christmas tree.

I never thought I’d ever make it. Now I pull out the recipe, and look for the pan that it will set in.