The Cardinal on the Last Day of the Year

The cardinal peers in through the kitchen window on the last day of the year.

Humpty Dumpty Sits on Cabot School Wall

Attending Claflin (Elementary) School, a  2.5 story brick building built in  1891, (an example of Richardsonian Romanesque design,) was no fun for Claflin School students when the elementary students at Cabot School (built in 1928/1929) was only a mile away, a school with a  playground of grass which covered a full block (Claflin had only a dirt playground behind the school) and, more importantly, Humpty Dumpty sitting on its front wall.  Marash Girl always envied Cabot School students for their Humpty Dumpty, a Humpty Dumpty which greets Marash Girl to this day whenever she takes a walk around Cabot Park.  Will Humpty Dumpty survive the planned renovation of Cabot School?

Humpty Dumpty still sits on the Cabot School Wall, a bit the worse for wear, but he's managed to avoid a fall over these nearly 90 years of watching over the kids playing at Cabot Playground in Newtonville, Massachusetts.  This photo of Humpty Dumpty was taken by Marash Girl yesterday afternoon.

The contemporary decoration on the face of Cabot School is sweet, but doesn't inspire the heart
the way Humpty Dumpty has done all these many years!

The Cabot School 60th Birthday Cook book published in 1989, and available for sale at OldCornerBooks.com sports the Humpty Dumpty icon on its front cover:

Cabot School Students, Parents & Faculty. Cabot School 60th Birthday Cook Book. Savannah, TN: Keepsake Cookbooks, Fundco Printers, 1989. apparent First Edition. Apparent First Edition of this very good plastic comb bound paper covered book with light wear to cover edges. Pages clean & tight. Light rubbing to front cover, which has an illustration of Humpty Dumpty who sat on the Cabot School wall in Newtonville, MA for so many years! Digital image available upon request. Very Good. Spiral bound.

Cabot Elementary School is located in Newtonville, Massachusetts. (#49516) Apparent First Edition of this very good plastic comb bound paper covered book with light wear to cover edges. Pages clean & tight. Light rubbing to front cover, which has an illustration of Humpty Dumpty who sat on the Cabot School wall in Newtonville, MA for so many years! Digital image available upon request. Cabot Elementary School is located in Newtonville, Massachusetts. Bookseller Inventory # 49516

Roar like a Lion

Recently, a friend from Los Angeles related that on her way to work,  alone in her car, she screams uncontrollably, frustrated over the need to go to work every day, fighting the traffic, while she is a wife, a homemaker, and  a mother of young children.  She doesn't cry, she said; she screams.

Screams? Screaming is a sign of weakness.  Roaring is a sign of strength!  

All you working mothers out there --

Don't scream! R-O-A-R!

Roar like a lion! 

At Karoun Yoga (West Springfield, Massachusetts), the yoga guru teaches folks to breath like a lion; but Marash Girl prefers to roar. . . like a lion, of course!

So roar, folks, roar!

Edgar Alan Poe in Boston the Day after Christmas

Statue of the writer Edgar Alan Poe on Boston's Boylston Street
at the intersection of Charles Street South 

An artist/caretaker of the Edgar Alan Poe statue eradicates graffiti on the day after Christmas;  the statue was "graffitied" on Christmas night.  

The Boston Skyline

The Boston Skyline from Deer Island on the Day after Christmas 2014

Marash Girl's Favorite Gift

Actually Marash Girl's favorite gift at Christmas was being surrounded by the people she loves.  Hopefully that was your favorite gift as well.

Beyond that, Marash Girl was honored the gift of a movie ticket for "FED UP", a movie ticket sent in her name to REAL FOOD FOR KIDS - MONTGOMERY, a grassroots parent and student advocacy organization working to promote whole, delicious, fresh and nutrient-rich foods in the Montgomery County Public Schools (MCPS) (schools which  Marash Girls grandchildren are attending)  to educate parents about sugar in children's diets.  Recently the organizaiton has achieved the end of sales of strawberry milk,  kept soda and candy vending machines off until 30 minutes after the end of the school day, and removed foods containing chemicals from the school food, chemicals that cause hyperactivity and cancer.  Visit them at www.realfoodforkidsmontgomery.org.  

Would that good food for kids in public schools becomes a national requirement.  You'd think, right?

The First Christmas from an Ancient Armenian Illuminated Manuscript

The First Christmas from an Ancient Armenian Illuminated Manuscript

Preparing for Christmas Eve

While three generations string Armenian cheese in preparation for Christmas Eve,

the youngest in the family practices his rendition of "Deck the Halls".

Parking for Reindeer Only

A sign posted on a maple tree on Maple Avenue attracts a local reindeer!

Salt at Christmas

While Marash Girl and Ahsin were preparing sini kufte for Christmas, Marash Girl realized that the salt supply was running low . . .  Asking a friend to run out to the closest (and least busy) shop to replenish the salt (of all things to run out of at Christmas), Marash Girl continued chopping onions. Soon she received her first Christmas surprise when her friend arrived a half hour later with the salt.  Not only was the container of salt  decorated with Marash Girl's favorite color (orange), but it was randomly painted in the colors of the Armenian flag (red, blue and orange), and most importantly of all, with Marash Girl's favorite symbol, the lighthouse.  How could he have gotten it right on all three counts -- and with a container of salt, at that!

Technoference at Christmas

Thinking of her soon to happen party on Christmas Eve, Marash Girl is also thinking about technoference and whether or not she should put a sign at the front of the house alerting folks to check their guns at the door, whoops, she means, check their technology at the door.  She really wants her Christmas party to be festive,  not interrupted by the ringing of bells (only Christmas bells, please)  and the flashing of lights (only Christmas lights, please)!  Your thoughts?

A Holiday Message from the State of Maine

Photo Courtesy of  Pamela Galvin, Brunswick, Maine

Marash Girl's Favorite On-Line Bookstore

Did you know Marash Girl's favorite on-line bookstore is http://www.OldCornerBooks.com?  Looking for a last minute Christmas gift?  

Just click the link http://www.OldCornerBooks.com and have fun searching for your favorite titles.  OldCornerBooks.com, located in Newton Corner, Massachusetts, can send the book to you by overnight mail and you'll have it in time for Christmas!  Or if you live in the Boston are, you can pick the book up yourself.  

But hurry!  Christmas is just around the corner!  

Newton Corner, that is.

Note:  Marash Girl regrets to note that the website is no longer up and running as of December 31, 2014, but the bookstore is alive and well selling books through Amazon, Abebooks, and Biblio.

Cookie Exchange, anyone?

Marash Girl's Sicilian Pizzeles, closest to the camera,were on the table 

but didn't make it into the photo.

Yesterday evening, Marash Girl attended her first ever Christmas Cookie Exchange at Grace Episcopal Church.  The rules?  Everyone who attends brings 3 dozen cookies and sets them out on the table, identifying her platter with her name and the name of the cookie.   The participants line up and walk around the table ("Like in musical chairs?" one of the ladies asked), taking one cookie from each platter; the ladies (there were no men present) kept walking around the table until everyone had one, two, three, or four of each cookie that was on the table in her basket. They kept walking around the table until all the platters of cookies on the table were empty and all the ladies' containers were full of cookies.  The walk around the table took more than an hour, even though the table was only 10 feet long, as the ladies lingered over each platter, admiring the array of cookies, sharing recipes, and catching up on the latest family news.

,

Costco and the Armenians

Marash Girl loves Costco for its fresh fruits and vegetables, its groceries, its great prices, its gracious service, and its friendly shoppers. She especially loves the Waltham Costco where she often hears folks chatting away in Armenian -- it makes her feel at home, somehow.  But yesterday was different.  There she was, standing next to the counter piled high with oranges, when she saw a face that she had not seen for many a year, a face that was so familiar, and yet not familiar at all.  This man had to be Armenian.  And so she went up to him and said, "Parev!"  He replied in Armenian, "Parev."  When she asked him where he was from, he answered, "Beirut, Lebanon."  As they continued to chat in simple Armenian (the only kind Marash Girl knows), Marash Boy approached, and soon all three of them were conversing -- in simple Armenian.  But guess why he looked so familiar!  It turns out that, yes, his ancestors were from Marash, and, yes, he identified himself as "Marashtsi".   Manuel Mardirosian, you were indeed a gift from the past for Marash Girl.

A Ceiling to Remember

                              You never know what you're going to see when you look up!

                           Ceiling, American Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Massachusetts

Rewire?

This license plate on the back of an electrical repair truck brought back memories of Uncle Paul who, according to his brother Peter, could wire a house faster than anyone else in the business.  The two brothers ran Newtonville Electrical Company, initially from their home in Newtonville, and later in the 1930's, at 84 Bowers Street in Newtonville Square, a store rented to them by their Uncle Vartan, and even later, in the 1950's, their very own building at 439 Newtonville Avenue in Newtonville, Massachusetts.  When folks called Peter complaining of "no heat" on a cold winter's night, Peter would often repair (free of charge) the furnace over the telephone, explaining in detail exactly what the customer  should do to"repair" her own furnace and have heat once again. Peter and Paul were known throughout the Commonwealth for their honesty, their service, and their great sense of humor.  They are sorely missed by all who knew and loved them.

Sage Advice

"Sometimes the best thing that comes out of our mouth is nothing . . . " [sic]

A Drawer from the Past

The Drawer from the Past

What is this drawer doing here?  Where did it come from? asked Marash Girl.  Don't you remember? Marash Boy teased.  This was one of the top drawers in the antique bureau we bought at the Brimfield Antiques Fair.  That  mahogany grain-painted empire bureau, American, early 19th century, was in the middle bedroom in our summer cabin in Wilbraham, the bedroom Grandpa Peter slept in.  You took this drawer out of that antique dresser and brought it home, telling me that if the bureau was missing a drawer, no one would steal the bureau (or the drawer)!  And you were right!  No one stole the bureau; no one, that is, until the tornado arrived and shredded the antique dresser to bits, the dresser, and everything else in the cabin, along with the cabin itself.  The tornado didn't care that the bureau was missing a drawer. . .

NB:  The summer cabin on Wilbraham Mountain was never locked, always open for the occasional hunter who might pass by, needing shelter from the rain or snow.

Two Cards of Thumbtacks

Note the hole at the top center of the card, readying the card  for a thumbtack to tack it
onto a handy spot on the kitchen wall!

What could a card of thumbtacks possibly mean to anyone?  These two cards, dating from the 1940's,  came out of a box in the cellar, a box of stuff from Marash Girl's family home.  The cards of thumbtacks whisper of her mom's keeping house in an orderly fashion, thumbtacking the calendar every year onto the painted wooden door leading to the cellar, thumbtacking the Christmas Stockings to the fireplace mantel, and  thumbtacking important bits of information around the calendar onto the cellar door.  Before the era of the now popular refrigerator magnets, and at a time when "scotch" tape was too dear to use, the thumbtacks served the family well. In what form are thumbtacks sold today?  Marash Girl has no need to know; she has two cards of her mother's thumbtacks, at least 12 of them waiting to hold up the Christmas Stockings that will hang from her fireplace mantel on December 24th.

" Contribute to WBUR today – your membership makes all the news and programming on WBUR possible."

Boston, Massachusetts:  WBUR Volunteers show off their WBUR winter sweaters for the camera during a break  from "manning" the phones during WBUR's Holiday Fundraiser. 

Volunteers celebrate while answering phones for the WBUR Fundraising Challenge.

N.B. WBUR is Boston's National Public Radio News Station.

Stop for Santa! City of Boston prepares for Christmas!

Santa and his helpers saunter alongside Boston's Public Gardens. Photo by Karoun

'Tis the season . . .

As if Sunday's signage wasn't enough, yesterday evening, when Marash Girl was driving down Washington Street  from Newton Corner to Newtonville, in her face was that same City of Newton sign on the side of the road, but this time in huge letters the sign screamed out, 

                             "Frustrate the thief!  Remove all valuables!" 

Perfect message for the Christmas season, the season of peace and good will!  

City of Newton . . . Wake up!

Spaghetti Sauce a la Mode

No, not spaghetti sauce with ice cream, but bottled spaghetti sauce freshened up to taste like homemade by sautéing chopped onions in olive oil until they are softened, and then adding peeled chopped garlic, frying that up a bit, and then adding the sautéed onions and garlic to any spaghetti sauce bottled in glass.  Continue by chopping fresh celery leaves or fresh basil or fresh chives, and some freshly squeezed lemon juice to offset the sugar sweetness of the typical bottled spaghetti sauce.  You'll be amazed at the taste difference, and it only takes minutes to do!

In this holiday season . . .

Yesterday, driving down Washington Street  from Newton Corner to Newtonville, Marash Girl noticed a placed by the City of Newton sign on the side of the road.  It read in huge letters, "Lock Your Cars!"  And this, during the holiday season, in the city voted the safest city in the United States!

Well, at least the sign didn't say, "Don your bullet-proof vests!"

Advice to Married Couples, Young and Old!

Overheard:

The most important marital skill is biting your tongue!

ANI Documentation of the Armenian Genocide

Dr. Rouben Adalian speaks at the Armenian Cultural Foundation

As the 100th year commemoration of the Armenian Genocide approaches, we bow our heads in memory of the 1.5 millions Armenians that were driven from their homeland, murdered, genocided, if there is such a word, by the Turks.  The memory, in the form of oral histories, eye-witness accounts, New York Times reports contemporary to the events, missionary letters contemporary to the events, family histories, lives on but has yet to be recognized as fact by the United States Government.  

All this was brought to the fore last night as Dr. Rouben Adalian, Director of the Armenian National Institute (ANI), spoke to several hundred folks at the Armenian Cultural Foundation in Arlington, Massachusetts. His subject? THE ARMENIAN CHURCH AND THE ARMENIAN GENOCIDE.  Long time scholar and author on the subject, Adalian spoke about his research -- his search through  the United States Archives, research culminating in a website that provides documentation and photos contemporary to the time -- documentation to be used by scholars, teachers and students alike -- documentation of unspeakable atrocities -- documentation of the Genocide of the Armenians, the first genocide of the 20th Century.

Photos and documentation accessible and downloadable on the web  at http://www.armenian-genocide.org

The Armenians of Zeitun (Zeitoun)

Robin Thomson writes from Aintab on Facebook; he offers this photo of  Marash Zeytun Armenian women.
"who defended their lands.."

Grandpa Peter remembered when the Zeitountsis fought to protect Zeitoun, their mountain abode,  against the onslaught of the Turks.  In 1918, during the Armenian Genocide, after the American missionaries, thinking to encourage peace, had convinced the Armenians of Zeitoun to give up their armed fight against the Turks. The Turks who did not make peace, the Turks who made genocide, marched these brave Armenian peoples of Zeitoun, bound and humiliated, marched them through the streets of Marash to their death.

Grandpa Peter cried every time he remembered the forced march of the once proud peoples, heads down, shamed: the courageous Armenians of Zeitoun.

How do you remember all those passwords?

Marash Girl is in a quandary.  She can't get her email because she can't remember her Gmail password!  She must have about 20 different passwords and she's tried all of them.  So no email. Yikes!  Time to write them with pen and ink in an old fashioned notebook.  Can we really live and work without our email in this day and age?

New Yorker Reports ISIS in Gaziaintab (The Aintep Lost to Armenians 1915-1923)

Click this link and weep -- The city of Marash Girl's ancestors, the city of education and elegance, the city that her ancestors were forced to flee because of the Genocide committed against the Armenians by the Ottomans and the Young Turks 1915-1923, (the residents of this city -- probably many of them with Armenian blood, though they may not know or admit it) --  Aintep -- today Gaziantab -- God protect you from this unGodly war.

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/12/08/vortex 

Refugees inside the Turkish border near Gaziantep. Some ten million people have fled Syria or been displaced from their homes.CREDIT                   PHOTOGRAPH BY OZAN KOSE / AFP / GETTY

Little Armenia in Paris

Ann Louise writes, "When we were in Paris (for one day) this establishment, La Maison De L'Armenia,
 was just down the street from our hotel."

Old Lessons and New from Sharing the Preparing of Thanksgiving Dinner

Old Lessons and New from Sharing the Preparing of Thanksgiving Dinner

Arppie made an easy dip (cocktail sauce)  stirring together  a cup of all natural ketchup and a tablespoon or less (according to your taste) of all natural prepared Gold's Horse Radish (found in the refrigerated section of the supermarket, the only one with no preservatives), a dip we've been making ever since we learned about it, a quick, easy, and healthy appetizer consisting raw vegetables (carrots, celery, scallions, cauliflower, broccoli, sweet baby peppers, miniature tomatoes)  arranged on a large platter surrounding the dip.

Marash Girl tried to prepare kale -- the new favorite vegetable in our family, by sautéing fresh onions in olive oil and adding fresh, washed, chopped kale . . .  much to her dismay, no matter how long she sautéed the kale, it remained unchewable, unchewable, that is,  until she added salt to the mix and voilá! As if by magic, the kale was suddenly tender.  Later, daughter Lorig advised using tamari (the all natural variety, of course) to tenderize the kale . . . Next time!

Another trick Marash Girl learned on Thanksgiving was how to cook any vegetable -- in this case, cubed sweet potatoes.  Nisha  washed and chopped the sweet potatoes, (leaving the skin on ), sprinkled them with a bit of olive oil and coarse salt and pepper, and baked them at 450 degrees for five or ten minutes. Absolutely delicious.

Marash Girl followed suit with fresh whole asparagus -- washed and placed on tray and sprinkled them with a bit of olive oil and coarse salt and pepper, and baked them at 450 degrees for five or ten minutes.  A favorite, hands down!

Please share any kitchen tricks you may have tried this Thanksgiving in the comments below . . .

We miss you, Mommy!

Mommy, Grandma Jennie,  died on Saturday, November 30, 1991, twenty-three years ago.

Marsha Girl was awakened by the sharp shrill of the telephone very early on that morning of November 30, 13 years ago.  Who would be calling at this hour of the morning? she wondered sleepily, still exhausted from her Thanksgiving spree.

It was Johnnie, Cousin Johnnie, Dr. John B., calling to tell Marash Girl that her mommy was dead, had died in her sleep.  Marash Girl can hear the scream, her own scream, a scream without end, a scream that seemed to be coming from elsewhere, but yes, it was her scream, and her scream of NOOOOOOO!  It couldn't be.  Mommy was too young.  She was too healthy.

Marash Girl threw on a shirt and pants, her coat, and, grabbing her car keys, hurried out the door.  Driving as fast as she could over to the house on Lowell Avenue, she finally (it seemed an eternity) arrived at her childhood home, her face covered with tears.  She ran up those steep stairs,  the stairs she had climbed every day of her young life, every step an eternity. Throwing open the front door, she ran into her mother's bedroom.  There was her mother, a look of joy on her face, joy the like of which Marash Girl had never seen.  Grandma Jennie had seen Jesus . . . Jesus had come in person to take this woman, Mommy, her mother, her saintly mother, to eternal rest.

That night, Marash Girl dreamed that she went to the family house and walked into the hallway through the front door.  There was Grandma Jennie, standing over the stove preparing dinner.  

"I knew you weren't dead!"  Marash Girl exclaimed in her dream.

We miss you, Mommy.

Can a pill or a drink improve your cardiovascular health?

Thinking about all that wine you drank yesterday?  Here are some more thoughts on wine . . . 

Here is the link for a podcast in which Dr. Nisha Charkoudian, Research Physiologist, US Army Research Institute of Environmental Medicine, interviews Dr. Michael Joyner, Professor of anesthesiology and Physiology, Mayo Clinic and Dr. Lasse Gliemann, postdoctoral research fellow, University of Copenhagen, Denmark, for the American Journal of Physiology.  . . .

Dr. Charkoudian writes, "I'm serving as 'guest editor' with the journal for a few months, and this is one of the projects they asked me to be involved with ... it's an interesting discussion about resveratrol, one of the components of red wine that is thought to contribute to its health benefits."  

To listen to the podcast, go to http://ajpheart.podbean.com. When you get there, scroll down to the podcast entitled "Angiogenic Response to Exercise and Resveratrol", click the link, and listen up!  You'll be surprised at what you learn!

Giving Thanks . . . with Corn Bread

Celebrating the giving of thanks by sharing food can be great fun, especially when those of us who don't consider ourselves cooks are given the opportunity to experiment.  Marash Girl doesn't expect you, dear reader, to stop reading and go and try this recipe today, as you have (hopefully) already planned and executed most of what you are going to serve for today's special meal. . .  Nonetheless, Marash Girl would like to share her secret for the best corn bread ever . . . 

Starting with a box of Quaker Yellow Corn Meal, Marash Girl reads the recipe on the back of the box for Easy Corn Bread.  Though the recipe calls for 1-1/4 cups of all-purpose flour and 3/4 cup Quaker Yellow Cornmeal, Marash Girl changes the proportions for a closer to authentic taste, and more crunch -- 3/4 cup all-purpose flour and 1-1/4 cups corn meal.  Next the sugar.  Marsha Girl substitutes 1/4 cup brown sugar for the 1/4 cup white sugar that the recipe calls for.  And, rather than 1 cup of skim milk, Marash Girl substitutes  (at the recommendation of Boston's suspense writer Robert Parker) 1 cup of buttermilk (which is, by definition, the milk left after the butterfat is skimmed off!)

So here's the Quaker recipe for Easy Corn Bread with revisions by Marash Girl and Robert Parker :

1 cup all purpose flour             1/2 tsp. salt

1 cup Quaker corn meal           1 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup brown sugar                 1/4 cup vegetable oil (or melted butter)

2.5 tsps baking powder             1 egg

Heat oven to 400 degrees F.  Grease an 8 or 9 inch (square to be more traditional) baking pan.  If using a glass baking dish, reduce oven to 375 degrees F.  Combine dry ingredients.  Make a well in the center and add milk, oil and egg, mixing just until dry ingredients are moistened.  DO NOT OVERMIX!

Pour batter into greased pan.  Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until the cornbread is a light golden brown and a wooden "tooth" pick inserted in center comes out clean.  Serve warm.  Makes 9 servings (cut in squares, two cuts in each direction).

Enjoy!

The Day Before Thanksgiving

What self-respecting "Dandigin" (տանտիկին = "Lady of the House") has the time to write a blogpost on the day before Thanksgiving?  Not this one!

Speaking of the Kyrgyz . . .

Haroutun Kyrgyzian, (later Haroutun Haroutunian), was attending Tarsus College during the 1895 massacres, the massacres that left his parents slain in their home and his little orphaned sisters (Yepros & Mayry) placed in the German Orphanage Bethel in Marash, Turkey (then Ottoman Empire). Whether or not Haroutun knew about the family devastation at the time is unclear, but after attending Tarsus College, he left for the United States. The family legend goes that at U.S. customs, he was told to use his father's name as a last name, as the customs officers couldn't understand the pronunciation of the last name he had given them (which was probably Khyrghyzoghlu). Haroutun travelled to the United States (probably with the guidance and assistance of missionaries and his professors at Tarsus College),  and enrolled in Boston University's Medical School with the dream of becoming a doctor.    How, we don't know, but once arrived in the United States,  (we surmise in Newtonville, Massachusetts,) he met the beautiful Makrouhi Nargesian, fell in love, and married.  Although he had wanted to become  a doctor, she wanted him to be with her and their children, for her Harry not to have to leave in the middle of the night for medical emergencies, leaving the family with no man in the house (understandable as she probably had experienced the horrors of the devastation to Armenians in the Ottoman Empire),  so Haroutun gave up one dream for another, gave up the dream of becoming a doctor and became a husband, father, and barber working out of the back of his brother-in-law Moses Bilezikian's pool room, so that he could live happily ever after with his beautiful wife, Makrouhi, sister of Khosrov Nargesian.

Uncle Harry Haroutunian  (on left), Zabelle Haroutunian on his lap, Makrouhi Nargesian Haroutunian in center, Unknown woman on right.  Photo circa 1920, Newton, Massachusetts
Photo courtesy of Ben Haroutunian

Where's the cheese?

Ordering a cheese pizza from Bertucci's? Think again . . .  Recently Marash Girl had a yen for pizza but it was after 10 PM.  Where could she go to get pizza at that hour?  Bertucci's!  What a mistake!
If she hadn't asked for extra cheese, there would have been no cheese! She was so outraged by the deminimus cheese on the pizza that she purchased at Bertucci's, that she just had to write this blog post.  Once warned is twice armed, folks!

Murat: Allahaısmarladık

Monica shares her first taste of raw oysters with her husband Murat as they celebrate Murat's last day in Boston at Boston's oldest restaurant: The Union Oyster House

Delish!

"Benjamin Franklin" (center) bids farewell to Monika and Murat on their last day in Boston 
at Boston's Union Oyster House.

                                      Farewell, Murat, and God be with you!

Thanksgiving?

Thanks giving to the Creator whence all things come . . .

Thanks giving -- a few (or many) simple heart-felt words of thanks.

That was the Pilgrim's first Thanksgiving.

THE FIRST THANKSGIVING: Kathy Rudder from Plimoth Plantation talks with Karen Given of WBUR's Only a Game

Kathy Rudder, “Colonial Foodways Artisan” for Plimoth Plantation

Johnny Cakes

Beer brewed by Mayflower Brewing Company, "a craft beer microbrewery located in historic Plymouth. Founded in 2007 by a 10th-great grandson of John Alden, who was the beer-barrel cooper aboard the Mayflower, they are dedicated to celebrating the history and legacy of the Pilgrims by creating unique, high-quality ales for the New England market."

Kathy Rudder, an historical interpreter at Plimoth Plantation, (Plymouth, Massachusetts) visited WBUR yesterday evening to talk with Karen Given of WBUR's Only a Game and an audience of several hundred about the first Thanksgiving, a thanksgiving that is as far away from today's celebration as Europe is from North America. 

Rudder, a foodways artisan and historical interpreter at Plimoth Plantation, came attired in the simple dress of the time and mingled with the audience as they test-tasted the brews (Mayflower Ale, Autumn Wheat, IPA India Pale Ale, and Porter) brewed by the Mayflower Brewing Company and bottled in Plymouth, Massachusetts) and the tasty tidbits of blue cheese and cheddar made by the Plymouth Cheese Company of Plymouth, Vermont, (yes, Plymouth, Vermont), freshly prepared Johnny Cake (small pancakes made with corn meal, flour and real tidbits of corn), caramelized onion souffle spread on crackers, squash spread on crackers, and for the tee-totalers, coffee -- both de-caf and high test.

According to Rudder, we have very little information about that first thanksgiving.  For the pilgrims, Thanksgiving was a concept -- a day of fasting and prayer, not a harvest feast, though as the Pilgrims became more established, harvest feasts were not uncommon. Rudder noted that the Pilgrims would not have called that feast a thanksgiving, as thanksgiving was prayer.  [By the mid-17th century, the settlers were established enough to be able to feast at harvest time.]

Did the Pilgrims have pumpkin pie at their first harvest feast?  Pumpkin definitely, but pie, probably not, as wheat did not grow well and because maize corn has no gluten, it would have been impossible to create a pie crust. Sugar, as well, was a rarity; early on there was no maple syrup or honey for sweetening.  Perhaps they had stewed pumpkin or stewed squash (mashed into a paste), stewed turnips, cranberries (but again, with no sugar).  The first recording of sugar in Plymouth was in 1627.   They may have cooked cranberries with duck or goose, or spit roasted a turkey with root vegetables such as parsnips, semp (grits - ground dried corn), boiling it with herbs to be savory, not sweet.  Pancakes, duck, goose . . . perhaps the first thanksgiving had a tableful of fowl, as meat was most prevalent. One pot meals were typical -- Turkey pottage with onions, turkey drippings, semp, herbs, root vegetables (a perfect solution for "leftovers", to use a contemporary concept). Or a fricasee, boiling the leavings, then frying them and serving with a sauce of egg yolk & vinegar or bear juice.  Although fish and shellfish were available year round, fish was not mentioned in the diaries as a celebratory food.  In the early days, the Pilgrims were drinking water, which is probably why so many died in those first years.  They didn't have beer or tea or coffee or chocolate.  (Actually not in England either. The Dutch & Spanish had it, but it hadn't reached England yet).  

George Washington declared the first day of thanksgiving in 1789 as a day of fasting and prayer.  Abraham Lincoln, in gratitude for a the victory at Gettysburg in 1863, declared a thanksgiving of fasting to be the 4th Thursday of every November. Sarah Hale, the editor of Godey's Lady's Book, wrote to five presidents to get them to establish Thanksgiving as a national holiday in an effort to bring the country together. (At the time, William Bradford's manuscript had just been uncovered.)

Turkey on Thanksgiving was a regionalism until the late 1940's when the National Turkey Federation came into being.  (Rudder made reference to the Ostrich Thanksgiving celebrated on radio by Jack Benny in the 1939. You can still hear it on You-Tube.) 

Rudder made little mention of the Natives except to say that at the first "harvest feast" were  53 colonists and (among others) 90 natives  carrying many deer.

When asked by Marash Girl if Native Americans still observe a National Day of Mourning on Thanksgiving Day in Plymouth, Massachusetts, Rudder simply answered, "Yes."

Are you Native American?

                          Vineyard Sound, Falmouth, along the bike path (former railroad tracks)

Walking along the bike path which skirts Vineyard Sound in Falmouth, Massachusetts, Marash Girl noticed a family of three who had been posing for a photo, suddenly disappointed.  "Need someone to take that photo?"  she asked.  "My iPhone is out of battery, so that won't help," replied the son.  "No problem," answered Marash Girl as she pulled out her trusty iPhone.  "I'll take the photo and text the photo to you," she replied, not believing that she had advanced that far into the world of the 21st century.

"Are you Native American?" asked the father.  Marash Girl grinned, wondering whether he had asked the question because of her offer of assistance or because of her facial structure, the structure she had inherited from her grandmother, the structure she had inherited from her Kyrgyzian ancestors who had come from the little village of Kyrgyz, where, pesumably, the original settlers were from Kyrgyzstan. [Kyrgyzstan is bordered by Kazakhstan to the north, Uzbekistan to the west, Tajikistan to the southwest and China to the east.]

"He stops at every powwow he can find, looking for possible ancestors," commented his wife. "He's convinced that he has Native American blood!" Laughing, Marash Girl answered, "Well, you know what they say: it takes one to know one!"  And then to the gentleman, "Did your family come over on the Mayflower?  Yes?  Well, there weren't many white women to go around in those days . . . "

The family nodded thoughtfully.

Wondering in New England

Wonder what it would be like to live in a place where the sun always shines and the temperature never goes below 50 degrees fahrenheit . . .

Whipped Cream Biscuits a la Boston's Own Spenser

Never heard of Whipped Cream Biscuits before?  Neither had Marash Girl, until reading along in  MORTAL STAKES by Boston's own mystery writer Robert B. Parker, Marash Girl learned that Whipped Cream Biscuits are, in fact, possible to make, and easy to make as well! She decided to look up the recipe on the internet.

At TasteofHome dot com she found the recipe. recorded below  Marash Girl wanted to bake them for Thanksgiving, whipping up double the amount of heavy cream, half to be used for the Whipped Cream Biscuits, the other half to serve over the pies that her guests are bringing for dessert.

The only problem was that when she went to Shaw's Supermarket late last night looking for heavy cream so that she could record the results of her test here today, all she found was heavy cream with heavy preservatives.  Refusing to buy admittedly chemically treated heavy cream, she decided to pass for the moment and simply offer you, dear reader, the recipe (below).  If you're planning to attempt this recipe in your own kitchen, just be sure you read the ingredients printed on the box of heavy cream before you purchase . . .  Marash Girl's recommendation?  Hold out for the pure stuff.  Wonder if Spenser used the pure stuff . . .


Whipped Cream Biscuits Light and fluffy
      1 cup all-purpose flour

• 1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup heavy whipping cream, whipped

Nutritional Facts
1 serving (1 each) equals 173 calories, 9 g fat (6 g saturated fat), 33 mg cholesterol, 248 mg sodium, 20 g carbohydrate, 1 g fiber, 3 g protein. 

Directions

1. Preheat oven
2. In a bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Stir in cream. Turn dough onto a floured surface; knead 10 times. Roll to 3/4-in. thickness; cut with a 2-1/4-in. round biscuit cutter. 
3. Place on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake at 425° for 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Serve warm. 
4. Yield: 5 biscuits.

Spenser Fries Zucchini Circles Dipped in Beer Batter

Reading MORTAL STAKES by Boston's own mystery writer Robert B. Parker,  Marash Girl came upon a new way to prepare zucchini . . . Ready?

Yes, right in the middle of the mystery, Parker's hero/sleuth Spenser prepares zucchini in a manner that may appeal to those of you who make your own beer -- or who simply love beer and always have it around.

Parker makes it simple both for his sleuth Spenser as well as for those of us who would like to try following Spenser's example! And who wouldn't like a new (though tried and true) way to use up all of those zucchini that we get every fall! (We does not include Marash Girl as she was a failure at growing zucchini the last time she tried . . . Either not enough bees or not enough sun or both . . . )

Following Spenser's lead as he prepares zucchini in MORTAL STAKES, simply cut washed zucchini into circles; prepare a batter by pouring some beer into a small bowl of flour and stirring gently until smooth.  Place some flour in a separate small bowl.  Dip the zucchini circles first into the flour, and then dip the floured zucchini circles into the beer batter. Place those dipped zucchini circles directly into a frying pan which has a tablespoon or two of sizzling cooking oil (Marash Girl uses olive oil), and fry the zucchini circles until crisp!

Delicious, according to Spenser!  Marsha Girl can't wait to try preparing zucchini this way.  How about you?

Oh, and if you love Boston, love baseball, and love mysteries, try reading Parker's MORTAL STAKES!  You can skip the part about zucchini in beer batter, though . . .

Contemporary Autumn in New England

No longer the smiles of folks raking their leaves into piles at curbside, tending their golden fires, no longer the aroma of burning leaves that marked autumn in New England, rather the roaring leaf blowers and the grim faces of unfriendly folks manning the dastardly machines.  

Another neighborhood bonding phenomenon has disappeared.

Bill Littlefied's TAKE ME OUT

On Thursday evening at WBUR, (Marash Girl's favorite radio station), Bill Littlefield held court with his long-time friend Stephen Coren (the illustrator of Littlefield's latest book, TAKE ME OUT) before an audience of over 75 admirers.  TAKE ME OUT, a book of doggerel, not a children's book, not an adult book, but a book of rhymes for those who love sports and love fun, a book that Littlefield hopes (in jest or in earnest) will earn a place in the annals of literary history, a place between Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein . . .               Littlefield's joy was infectious as he talked about his writing of the rhymes and treated the audience to selective readings from his latest book, TAKE ME OUT.  

With Thanksgiving soon upon us, and for other reasons which may be obvious to some, Marash Girl has chosen to share with you, dear reader, this piece from Bill Littlefield's TAKE ME OUT, in memory of the Native Peoples of our land.

LACROSSE

The Indians and Braves play baseball. Some would say, "Their loss." 

Perhaps those some think Indians and Braves should play Lacrosse.

Lacrosse, I'm told, was played upon the plains across the land.

Before the Indians and braves were made to understand

They had to leave the land they loved for regions quite forsaken.

The barren lots reserved for them, when better land was taken.

Lacrosse is played in high schools now and private schools as well.

It's played at lots of colleges and I suppose that's swell.

Lacrosse requires running, passing, catching, shooting, too . . .

Though not the sort of shooting that the army like to do
When Indians and braves would try remaining on their land,
As if perhaps when told to move they didn't understand.

A lot of people like lacrosse, which I suppose is nice.
To me it seems like slower hockey played without the ice.
But who am I to say what game is worst and which is best?
We each decide which one we think is better than the rest,
And if lacrosse is what you choose, then I will understand,
And hope that in the days to come you never lose your land.

Bill Littlefield (left) andStephen Coren talk about Bill's latest publication, TAKE ME OUT,
at Boston's WBUR on Thursday evening. When asked by a member of the audience, "Do you think women should get into boxing?" Bill Littlefield answered, "I don't think women should, and I don't think guys should either!"
Although not in rhyme, he did make his point!

Bill Littlefield (left) and Stephen Coren signing copies of TAKE ME OUT.

Bill Littlefield inscribes and signs a brand new copy of TAKE ME OUT for an admirer.