Overheard at the 30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival (Last Part: 5)

"We had a 10 year wait to get into the yacht club in Ipswich!"

"There ain't many pine trees left in these parts; they're all masts!"

"Paddleboarding?  As far as I'm concerned, those boats are called widowmakers."

30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival, Part 4: The Coast Guard

This is what Marash Girl saw as she approached the first table under the Vendor's Tent:   Life Jackets Save Lives. The table, manned by a member of the Coast Guard and his daughter, was there to convey an essential message for all seafarers: LIFE JACKETS SAVE LIVES.  The Coast Guardsman's daughter was a living example.  A seasoned boat woman, she had been in a boat race wearing heavy clothing when her boat capsized.  Her life jacket kept her upright until help arrived, even though she had on heavy boots that would have taken her to the bottom of the ocean, had she not been wearing a life jacket.   Father and daughter went on to explain that most folks who lose their lives in boating accidents would be living today had they been wearing a life jacket, and many of the folks who lost their lives in boating accidents were seasoned swimmers boating in calm waters.  For more information on life jackets and the saving of life through the wearing of a life jacket, see  the Coast Guard's website on the subject:

 http://www.uscgboating.org/safety/life_jacket_wear_wearing_your_life_jacket.aspx 

and PLEASE, wear a life jacket whenever you go onto the water in a boat.

On the cheerier side of boating, the Coast Guardsman was demonstrating how to tie knots.    Below are photos of the Coast Guardsman showing his daughter how to tie various types of knots important when sailing.

"Tying knots is the most important skill that a sailor can know!"

Oh, and swans were among the many visitors to the 30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival!

30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival, Part 3: On A More Serious Note

Now to get down to the more serious aspects of the festival.  Sunday's activities began with a Service of Worship for Boaters, beginning with the Call to Worship: "Blessed be God, who created us, and gives us the gifts of the sea. . . " followed by the singing the Mariner's Hymn:

Eternal Father, strong to save,

Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,

Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep

Its own appointed limits keep;

Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,

For those in peril on the sea!

O Christ! Whose voice the waters heard

And hushed their raging at Thy word,

Who walkedst on the foaming deep,

And calm amidst its rage didst sleep;

Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,

For those in peril on the sea.

The Old Testament reading was the story of Jonah, the New Testament reading, Mark 2:1-12.

The service was closed with the singing of the last 4 verses of the Mariner's Hymn (above): Eternal Father, Strong to Save.  Rev. J. Loring Carpenter, Executive Director of Seafarer's Friend located in the Ports of Boston, Portsmouth (NH) and Portland (Maine) since 2005, conducted the service and blessed individual boats as he made the rounds of the docks following the service.  

The day ended with a general Blessing of the Boats,  the boats responding their "Amen" with their bells, whistles and horns.

30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival, Part Two

More  from the 30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival

                           The way to the boats. . . the ramp gets steeper as the tide goes out!

                       Old Timey Music played by The Ancient Mariners Dixieland Band

The Adventure Chantey Singers in "Heave Away Haul Away", a classic sea shanty.

Nantucket Lightship/LV-112

"A Captain  knows a good hooker."

"The WRECK of the GLOBAL ECONOMY - BAILOUT LEDGE"

"Buy a cookie for $18 and get a free T-Shirt!"

Deborah Pascale of Pascale's Books (North Reading, MA) displays a scarce maritime book:  THE YANKEE WHALER

Robert Brun,  Marine Art and Prints, the artist who loves to paint antique and classic boats!

Painting by Robert Brun for sale at the Antique & Classic Boat Festival this year

30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival, Part One

If you were unable to get to the 30th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival yesterday at Brewer Hawthorne Cove Marina in Salem, Massachusetts, (yes, that Salem, the Salem of the witches, though there were no witches in sight -- they had probably all been drowned by 17th century storms if not at the hands of the witch hunters -- sorry, back on topic), you missed not only a beautiful day, but a beautiful event.  The sun and the sea breezes partnered with the planners of the event (perhaps to make up for the hurricane that cancelled last year's, the 29th Annual Antique & Classic Boat Festival), to make for a fun day for the hundreds (both children and grownups) who had travelled to the event from as near as Salem itself and as far away as Armenia, to visit the sailboats, powerboats and hand-powered craft that were the stars of the festival. Here are a few photos of the participants docked where visitors could board the boats, chat with the owners, and vote for their favorite.  More tomorrow . . .

Marash Girl's Favorite Little Boat

Ghost, Marash Girl's Favorite larger (power) boat, perhaps because of its name (given Marash Girl's origins), perhaps because of its history (see below).

Happy Birthday, Arax!

Happy Birthday, Arax!  Photo Credit: Nisha Charkoudian

A Page from the Past

McCue, James Westaway. Signed Copy! Dangerous Waters: A Novel about Men and the Sea. Silver Lake P.O., MA: New England Book Co, 1952. First Edition. Hardcover, pages clean & tight (some stain on cover). Autographed by author in ink on front free endpaper.   Very good condition.

Set in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. (#516)

So read the description of a book published 60 years ago in Newton, Massachusetts, a book that was advertised for sale on-line at OldCornerBooks.com in Newton Corner, Massachusetts.  This  week, DANGEROUS WATERS left its adopted family of 20 years to return home. The author's grandson arrived this past  Wednesday to claim DANGEROUS WATERS,  (set on Cape Cod and signed by the author in ???) as a gift for his father, the son of the author.  A family reunited!  What wonders a book can achieve!

Madzoon on the Fly

If you're ever in Takoma Park, Maryland, don't bother going to the Middle Eastern restaurant there; don't go, that is, if you love madzoon!  (Yogurt, for those of you who aren't Armenian!)  Recently, having ordered "Kufte" with a side of yogurt, Marash GIrl was dismayed to find that  the side of yogurt served her was mixed with hamburger relish!  Yikes.  Overlooking this faux-pas, Marash Girl realized that the kitchen must have real yogurt, and thus, to avert her disappointment,  she decided to order a glass of Tahn (Irahn). (For directions on how to make tahn at home, go to http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/2012/02/tahn-marash-girls-favorite-drink.html.) The waitress brought her a bottle of "Yogurt Drink".  Oh. With preservative? No.  Thinking she was being helpful (both to herself and to the kitchen), and really longing for a good, old-fashioned glass of freshly made, ice, cold tahn, AND having confused the young waitress completely, Marash Girl decided to walk to the back of the restaurant and talk to the owner/cook/chef/whoever she could scare up, which turned out to be the owner and the cook.  Explaining her desperate need for a glass of ice, cold tahn, AND explaining how simple it was to put together, they replied, "We don't have any!"  "But how is that possible?" Marash Girl queried.  "You have yogurt for the side that goes with the Kufte!"  "Oh, that," they replied.  "We've already mixed all of our yogurt with hamburger relish!"

Porcupine hair shaving brushes? Who knew!

Old-time shaving brush as Marash Girl remembers it. Image courtesy of Google.

Porcupine hair shaving brushes?  Did our grandfathers and great grandfathers know that they were shaving their faces with porcupine hair? Who knew?  

Plimoth Plantation: Native from Canada points to his headdress of porcupine hair.

There they were, Marash Girl, Enila & Iffar, in the Crafts Center at Plimoth Plantation, watching a Native from Canada making a war lock using porcupine hair.  When the Native craftsman held up a handful of the porcupine hair, Marash Girl gasped, "That sure looks like the old-time shaving brush that Grandpa Moses used to use on the third floor of 474/476 Lowell Avenue in Newtonville!"  "Didn't you know?" the craftsman laughed.  "It was porcupine hair, (not the quills, of course) that was used to make those old time shaving brushes."  Marash Girl hadn't known.  Her dad, Peter, was a proudly modern man who used ONLY electric shavers, and yes, shavers in the plural! He had two!  Not a porcupine hair shaving brush to be found in his room!

A Zucchini Disaapointment

Marash Girl made the mistake, as she had feared, of counting her zucchinis "before they hatched".  And, in fact, to date, she has had many zucchini flowers on the potted plants that are in full sun, but the flowers have all dropped off, with nary a zucchini to their name.  And the zucchini plants in partial sun on the hillside? Nary a flower.  Help!

Acorn pipes, Wilbraham style

Acorns in abundance -- a long cold snow-filled winter, they say.  So commented Marash Girl on her morning walk with Marash Boy as they made their way through a plethora of acorns.  But acorns for Marash boy meant late August in Wilbraham, the time he could make acorn pipes with his cousin (the late Dr. George Charkoudian).  At times they would climb the 300 year old oak tree to get green acorns soft enough to pierce easily with a toothpick.  Sometimes they would satisfy themselves with an already fallen acorn.  But they would always puff their acorn pipes with joy, knowing if the pipe they puffed broke, they could always make another one.  Perhaps next time they would make an acorn pipe with an acorn that still had its hat, so that the  the tobacco could be seen on top with the smoke streaming up to the heavens.

Mediation Began Long ago: One Hand Can't Clap (Armenian Proverb)

Mediation begins at home.  Little did Marash Girl know that her father was quoting an Armenian Proverb whenever the children would argue about who started a fight or an argument.  Peter loved "object lessons" and this was one he used often.  "Who started the fight?"  He would hold up one hand and wave it powerfully in one direction.  "Do you hear any noise?"  "No," the children replied.  "Now do you hear any noise?" he said, triumphantly, as he held up both hands and clapped them vigorously together!  That ended the discussion.

Postcard circa 1923: Marache Maraş Marash Armenia Cilicia Turkey

"Marache - Panorama": Postcard from 1923 of  Marache Maraş Marash Armenia Cilicia Turkey

The reverse side of the postal card written in French as follows.
Transcription & Translation Credit: Andrea Colls-Halpern

[Le] Temps me parait moins long  vivement le mois d’octobre que je décampe de ce sale patelin   encore 5 mois et je pourrez [sic] dire adieu au gnacoué [ = an Indochinese peasant. By extension used of Asians, slang and highly pejorative]    et cela, sans regret.  Tu feras un gros poutou au tonton et a maman  le bonjour a Maréa et je termine.  Je vais faire la  sieste. Reçois chère cousinette un bon baiser. Ernest

TRANSLATION: Time seems to be dragging less   roll on October when I can leave this rotten place. 5 months more and I’ll be able to say goodbye to these peasants, and do so without regret.  Give a big kiss to uncle and maman. Say hi to Marea  I’m signing off I’m going to take a siesta. Kisses dear cousin. Ernest

A good friend emailed the above image with the following message: "I found this picture (of an old postcard) of Marash on the web and thought you would be interested in it."  The postcard was printed in Aleppo, [if you look at the picture, there is a vertical line in the middle saying "Wattar Freres, Alep" apparently French printers (in Aleppo?)] and probably mailed in an envelope during the genocide, as there is no stamp or postal mark on the card.  If you read SANDCASTLE GIRLS by Chris Bohjalian, you'll understand the importance of Aleppo during the Armenian Genocide. [Also see Marash Girl's post entitled, "YOUTUBE reveals the plight of the Armenians of Marash, 1915-1923".]   Marash Girl has never seen this image of Marash, as the spelling of the city on the card (MARACHE) differs from the generally used spelling: MARASH.  The photo is a different view of Marash than the one that Peter Bilezikian had among his papers. (See  http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/search q=Photo+of+Marash%2C+Western+Armenia%2C+c.+1900+marash+girl) Should any of you ever find other images of Marash, please send them along to share on this blog.   

Mooncussers . . . the land pirates of Cape Cod

Sleeping in a house along New England's Cape Cod seashore with a window opening on to the dunes, nightly listening to the moan of the fog horn, brought to mind the mooncussers, the land pirates of Cape Cod.  Land pirates, you ask?  How can that be?  Dastardly deeds were indeed committed along the rocky coast of New England.    Living in the early days along the Atlantic Ocean,  in a time when lighthouses were few and far between, mooncussers had no need to go to sea to eek out a living.  Mooncussers simply awaited a moonless night, a night when ships were headed into port,  stood on the rocky outcroppings so common to the New England shore, waving lanterns, providing a light in the darkness, a light which would lead ships to certain destruction, a light which would lead mooncussers to certain wealth.  And why the name mooncusser?  If the moon was shining, the ships could circumvent the rocks and arrive in safe harbor, thus depriving the land pirates of certain wealth, and providing the mooncussers with good reason to cuss the moon.

Alice in Wonderland at the Harwich Junior Theatre, West Harwich, Cape Cod

Before the show, Iffar and Enila chat with the Court Jester on the front porch of the Harwich Junior Theatre
 as the sun goes down in the west.

It was wonderland indeed for the children attending Alice In Wonderland at the Harwich Junior Theatre (West Harwich, Cape Cod, Massachusetts) this past Thursday evening. The children never took their eyes away from the stage, nor was there ever a cry of dismay. They were, indeed, in Wonderland.  And even more wonderful was their meeting with the actors on the porch in front of the theatre after this performance of Alice In Wonderland.

A cast of all ages peopled the stage in a perfectly timed farcical performance of Alice!

Giant Alice and Miniature Alice surrounded by the playing cards and all the other characters peopling Alice's dream.

The Duchess sneezes just before she gives Enila a hug! 

Enila & Iffar with the two Alices!

Enila and Iffar chat with the 3-in-1 caterpillar after the performance.

The Queen of Hearts forgets to command, "Off with your head," as 

she takes a shine to Iffar, 

and Iffar takes a shine to her.

"Those are fake glasses, but real braces", commented Enila, as the Mad Hatter placed his hat on Iffar's crown.

Iffar sporting the hat placed on his head by the now hatless Mad Hatter.

What shall we do with the drunken sailor?

Perhaps it was the fog, or the fog horn warning sailors the whole night long into the early morning that caused Marash Girl to wake up with a sea shanty playing over and over in her head, and soon she was singing the shanty:

What do ya do with a drunken sailor,
What do ya do with a drunken sailor,
What do ya do with a drunken sailor,
Earl-eye in the morning!

Chorus:

Weigh heigh and up she rises

Weigh heigh and up she rises

Weigh heigh and up she rises

Earl-eye in the morning

It was the first song the children at 474/476 Lowell Avenue in Newtonville ever heard on a 78 rpm record, the record that came with their first electric phonograph in 1948.  They must have played that record hundreds of times . . .  Although Marash Girl hadn't heard the shanty since 1948,  it wouldn't go away; she couldn't stop singing about the drunken sailor until she made the decision to write about him this morning.  But it was not the drunken sailor alone that haunted her early morning hours.  There's another side to this story . . .

On the other side of the shiny black disc recording of the "Drunken Sailor" was the song, "Blow the Man Down". [On the other side it DID say somethin' (unlike the No Trespassing sign of Pete Seeger fame)]

Marash Girl still laughs as she remembers Johnnie (now the famous Dr. John Bilezikian) stumbling around the living room as the children tried to 'blow him down', all of them singing and screeching with joy, yes, the same children that called "Candy Man, Candy Man" after church on Sundays.

BLOW THE MAN DOWN

Oh, blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down To me way aye blow the man down Oh, blow the man down, bullies, blow him away, Give me some time to blow the man down! As I was a walking down Paradise Street A pretty young damsel I chanced for to meet. She was round in the counter and bluff in the bow, So I took in all sail and cried, "Way enough now." So I tailed her my flipper and took her in tow, And yardarm to yardarm away we did go. But as we were going she said unto me, "There's a spanking full-rigger just ready for sea." But as soon as that packet was clear of the bar, The mate knocked me down with the end of a spar. It's starboard and larboard on deck you will sprawl, For Kicking Jack Williams commands the Black Ball. So I give you fair warning before we belay, Don't ever take head of what pretty girls say.

Merjumek Kufte - Vosbov Kheyma - in the style of the Armenians from Marash

Yesterday's New York Times featured an article entitled, "Building the Turkish Empire, One Friend at a Time" (Wednesday, August 15, 2012, D3). The title was a bit unsettling, as the Armenians certainly know what happened when the Turks tried to 'build' their Empire in 1895, then again in 1908, and finally in 1915. If you don't know the history, read the issues of the New York Times from 1895, 1908, and 1915, 1916, 1917, 1918. But not to get lost in the dark pages of history, or in the freshly printed pages of yesterday's New York Times, Marash Girl would like to correct the recipe that the New York Times reporter offered for Merjumek Kufte,(Vosbov Kheyma in Armenian), a meal that her Armenian ancestors, she, her children and grandchildren have been preparing from time immemorial. Originally meant as a lenten dish (interestingly enough, prepared with red lentils -- is that where lentils got their name or did lent get its name from lentils?), it has long since become a weekly favorite in the homes of most Marashtsis, and certainly a favorite with Marash Girl's family. Here's how you make it.

One cup of red lentils (Mendzmama often used yellow split peas if she was out of red lentils)
One cup of medium (or fine) bulghur (NOT coarse)
Water
Salt
Aintab red pepper (sometimes known as Halep red pepper or Aleppo red pepper, available in Middle Eastern stores, or if you live in Watertown, MA, in the Armenian stores on Mt. Auburn Street)

One large onion, peeled, chopped into tiny pieces, and sauteed in olive oil or part olive oil and part butter.

For the garnish (Pervaz)

1 bunch of fresh parsley, washed well, trimmed, and chopped finely (include the stems -- that's where all the flavor is!)
1 bunch fresh scallions, washed, trimmed, chopped finely (include both the bulb and the greens)
1 fresh green pepper, washed, deseeded, and chopped finely.

Procedure:
Rinse the red lentils, place them in a heavy pot, cover with water, bring to a boil, and simmer for 1 hour or less (until the water is mostly absorbed.) The lentils should be mushy, with some amount of water left. This is NOT an exact science, as the absorption of the water by the lentils depends on how old and dry the lentils are.

While the lentils are cooking, prepare the parsley garnish and set aside. Chop the onion and saute in the olive oil/butter mix. (The oil should slightly cover the onions when you begin to saute, as this is important for the flavor of the final dish.)

After about an hour, add to the lentils, which should now be mushy and yellowish in color, about a cup of bulgur. Leave the mixture for a bit, covered, until the water is absorbed by the bulgur and the mixture is stiff. If need be, add a bit more bulgur to stiffen the mixture; add the sauteed onions with whatever oil is left in the pan; this will loosen the kheyma a bit, the salt, pepper and Aintab red pepper. Add half of the 'pervaz', (the garnish,) leaving some for the center of your platter for folks to dunk their kheyma khounches into, should they prefer. [The kheyma should be stiff enough to shape into "khounch", two inch long football shaped pieces which have the marks of your fingers on the side. Repeat: these small shapes should not be smooth, but rather have the dents of your fingers on the sides.] Arrange the kheyma around the edges of a platter with the garnish in the center. Serve warm. Or, if you don't have the time to shape the kheyma into khounches, simply put it on a plate as you would a plate of rice with the garnish on the side. Serve warm for a meal, or room temperature for meza!

CAPE COD HOSPITALITY

Cape Cod Hospitality:  A Bumper Sticker To Remember

Yesterday, after a session at the Cape Cod Canal Visitors Center where the young 'uns learned local lore, facts about the Canal, and how to make paper (part of a lesson on Reuse/Recycle/Repair/Reduce), the children were excited to return to their favorite spot on Cape Cod:  The Sandwich Public Library.  After several hours of looking for exciting titles, playing computer games, sitting in comfy chairs, and reading their book treasures, they were ready to go for ice cream.  Heading out to the parking lot, they couldn't wait to show Marash Girl  a bumper sticker they had discovered.  The bumper sticker read, "Welcome to Cape Cod -- Now Go Home!"  As Marash Girl dragged out her camera to record the welcome, the owner of the bumper sticker and the automobile on which it was stuck to, came around to the the back of her car and asked, "Do you like my bumper sticker?  It was a gift from my sister, and a sentiment I'd like to share.  Can you put it on Facebook for me?"  Marash Girl asked the young woman where she lived.  "I live in Sandwich," she answered, "but I don't have a Facebook account.  Would you put it on Facebook for me?"  "Of course," promised Marash Girl.  So here it is, folks, the bumper sticker heading for Facebook from a beleaguered resident of Sandwich, Massachusetts, who has been suffocated by all the folks who love her town.

CANDY MAN

Nishan Roubian, 1938,  at the "breaking of ground" for the Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts.   Photo thanks to Mari Kricorian who left the photo to her son who gave the photo to his daughter, the author Nancy Kricorian

Nishan Roubian was a joyous member of the United Armenian Brethren Evangelical Church on Arsenal Street in Watertown, Massachusetts.  The children loved Uncle Nishan, as they should have called him; Candy Man as they did call him.  Every Sunday, after (a seemingly) unending church service, the children would run down the front stairs of the church to Candy Man, who would always be waiting on the sidewalk at the foot of the stairs (how did he get there so quickly) with his left hand in his pocket.  The children would run to him shouting, "Candy Man, Candy Man," grins on their faces, excitement in their voices.  As they approached, he would reach into his pocket and take out a handful of white, sugar-coated almonds, (Did he save them from all the weddings he went to?  Did he buy them especially for Sundays?) holding his hand out to the children who were jumping up and down, encircling him.  Candy Man, Candy Man, they all shouted.  Uncle Nishan, their parents admonished them.  Candy Man, Candy Man, the children shouted, as they crunched on the gift he always had awaiting them in the left pocket of his Sunday "go to meeting" jacket.

Ethel Roubian's Orange Cake Recipe

Last night, Marash Girl dreamed about her mother, Jennie Bilezikian and her aunt, Zabelle Bilezikian, and their friend, Ethel Roubian.  The dream wasn't exactly about them, but rather about the puzzlement over a recipe, the recipe that Ethel Roubian had given them for her most delectable Orange Cake.  Here is what happened.  Jennie & Zabelle had gone to visit their friend Ethel Roubian who had served them her special orange cake. . . Or perhaps Ethel had brought her cake to the Armenian Women's Educational Club meeting.  Ethel's Orange Cake was so delicious that Jennie & Zabelle asked Ethel if she might share her recipe. Now this was a rare occurrence, for Jennie baked the most superb cakes, using Betty Crocker's Cook Book (NOT cake mixes) as her source. . . Jennie could out bake the best, and needn't ask anyone for anything in the area of cake recipes or instructions to bake.  But here is the strange part.  Ethel Roubian did agree to share her recipe, leaving Jennie (downstairs) and Zabelle (upstairs) to follow that recipe, a recipe that called for the use of freshly squeezed orange juice and freshly grated orange zest in the batter.  They followed the recipe to a "T" as it were, or should I say to an "O", meticulously replicating the actions called for on the recipe card.  The cake?  A failure.  It fell.  Oh, dear, they commiserated.  We must have missed an instruction or two.  Once again, they attempted the cake.  Once again, it failed.  After the third failure, they called Ethel Roubian to ask what they might have done wrong. . . she went over the recipe with them.  All was there.   They tried again.  The cake fell.

So this is, in a sense, another riddle.  Why do you think the cake fell?  And whether or not you have the answer to that question, do you have a recipe for Orange Cake that you're willing to share, a recipe that will work?

Answers to yesterday's riddles:
1) Fire
2) Your shoes
3) Your bed
4) A rope

Turning Cheeses: A Game for Young Girls at Plimoth Plantation in the 1620's

Turning Cheeses was a game popular with young girls living at the Plimoth Plantation in the 1620's.  Wearing their long voluminous skirts and petticoats, they would twirl as best they could (without tripping, amazingly enough), and settle down onto the ground with their skirts settling around them.  The winner of the game was the girl whose skirt settled around her in the most perfect circle.

Telling riddles was another popular past time.  Here are a few favorites:  
1) What lives if it eats, but dies when it drinks?  
2) What's full during the day, but empty at night?  
3) What's empty during the day, but full at night?
4) What is ten men's length and ten men's strength, yet ten men cannot stand it on its end?

For the answers, check the end of Marash Girl's blog tomorrow.

Please add your own favorite riddles in the comments below.

Tanzies for Lunch, Plimouth Plantation Style

I must prepare tanzies for Mrs. Bradford's lunch.  Would you like to know how I do so?  You must begin with fresh eggs from your hen yard.  The fresher the eggs, the better the tanzy.  Crack the eggs and separate them from the shells, for we would not want to have egg shells in our tanzy.  Beat the eggs with a fork (although I beat mine with my trusty knife that is always at my side); then add bread crumbs (the only bread we have here in the New World is a very coarse corn bread), and chopped herbs of your choice (I believe Enila will use parsley chopped finely).  Melt butter in a flat iron pan (I believe you call them cast iron fry pans), then pour the egg mixture into the pan of sizzling butter, making sure the egg mixture covers the pan and is about 1/4 inch in depth.  Place the pan over the ashes at the front of the fire. Do continue to check the edges of the tanzy as it cooks, to make sure the tanzy is cooking evenly.  When it is browned all along the edges, remove the fry pan from from the fire, and slip the tansy out of the pan onto a flat board or platter.  Then turn the tansy wet side down onto the hot iron pan.  (This is a bit tricky.) Place the pan  full of eggs back onto the front of the fire and as the tanzy cooks, check around the edges to make sure the eggs are browning evenly.  When the underside is sufficiently browned, slip the tansy onto a platter, and serve.  If you're lucky, it will land in one piece and your family will be pleased.

The tansy cooks over hot ashes
at the front of the fire in a heavy
 iron fry pan.

Anna checks the readiness of the tanzy.

Be sure to remove the tansy carefully from the pan; we mustn't present broken tansies -- not very appetizing!

Now Enila & Iffar know how to make a tansy (tanzie, tanzy, tansie), and you do, too!