A Man Before His Time: Theodore Roosevelt wanted to ban football . . .

Even way back at the beginning of the 20th Century, football was seen as a dangerous sport.  Despite his rough and tumble ways, President Theodore Roosevelt attempted to "change the rules" and nearly banned football "due to its undue violence resulting in many player injuries.  This CALAMITY Bank, shown on the cover of a Collectors' Showcase magazine (January/February 1983), "considered among the most desirable of old cast iron mechanicals typifies the popular rough and tumble sport."

Collector's Showcase Magazine, #51610,  available at OldCornerBooks.com

Overheard: Grandma to Grandpa

Overheard:  Ama calling to Baba late one vacation morning: You'd better wake up; it's almost time for your nap!

Don't throw away those broccoli stems!

Listening to the radio before Thanksgiving was like listening to a non-stop cooking show!  Every station had at least one famous chef speaking about what we who have celebrated Thanksgiving all our lives, should  do or not do in the kitchen!  There was one message that caught Marash Girl's attention.

That news? Broccoli stems are not to be tossed but rather eaten!  Wow!  Let's see . . . how many years ago did Marash Girl figure that out . . . and never even thought it worth writing in her blog?  She assumed everyone knew!  So what's the thing with broccoli stems?  If you're preparing  a salad or a vegetable platter, it's the most delicious of all vegetables, with the most interesting of textures, milder than the broccoli flowers themselves and easier to chew and digest.  Marash Girl peels the stems  (was it Auntie Rose that taught her, or did she teach Auntie Rose?) and slices the stems  -- no, don't you cook them! Add the broccoli stems to a salad -- that unidentifiable vegetable -- or place them on a veggie platter along with the carrots, the celery, the peppers, the cherry tomatoes, the radishes, the cucumbers -- with Arppie's secret dip at the center.  Should Marash Girl give you Arppie's secret dip recipe here or in the next blog post?  Okay, because you're curious, here it is . . . very complicated : )

Ketchup (in bottle from store -- no preservatives) of your choice.

Prepared horse radish (in bottle from store -- no preservatives) of your choice.

Complicated procedure:

Add a teaspoon of prepared horseradish to a 1/3 of a cup of ketchup. 

There's your dip! Tastes even better than Shrimp Cocktail Sauce and costs you pennies.

Arppie, who used to be the Director of the UConn auditorium in Storrs, Connecticut, always served a veggie platter (with this dip of her own making) to the gathered celebrities that she regularly entertained at the auditorium, and the dip never failed to wow them . . . (Don't think she ever served them peeled broccoli stems, though.)  So Arppie, here's a big thank you for your simple but delicious dip that family members have been using for eons!

Oh, Those Sweet Potatoes!!!

Roasted sweet potatoes . . . the most delicious treat you'll ever eat, as a snack, a side dish     . . .  for Thanksgiving, Christmas, any time, any day.

Festive or not, a treat that can't be beat . . . a creation that Ahsin has agreed to share with Marash Girl's readers.

Here's how! 

Preheat oven to 415.  Wash the (raw) sweet potatoes and chop into 1-1.5" cubes.  Spread in a roasting pan.  Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt and fresh-ground black pepper.  Mix together with your hands to make sure all pieces are coated.  Roast for 20-25 minutes or until they start to get a little golden-brown.  Check halfway through cooking and stir them around a little to prevent sticking to the pan. 

Can be enjoyed warm as a side dish, or at room temperature as a snack or in a salad!

Asking the Lord's blessing . . .

Despite what she wrote in yesterday's blog, Marash Girl celebrated Thanksgiving by giving thanks for her friends, for her family . . . and how did she do that beyond the simple giving of thanks?  She cooked and she baked and she served . . . and she and her family and her friends now all included within the family gathered together and sang , "We gather together to ask the Lord's blessing . . . "

Happy Thanksgiving for those of us who can celebrate . . .

Black Friday -- irony of ironies -- Thursday, Thanksgiving Day is the day of black, the day of mourning, for the Natives of the Americas  . . .  For years, Marash Girl and her daughter Girol fled the Thanksgiving celebration at their own home to join forces with the thousands of Native Americans who participated in the Day of Mourning held yearly on "Thanksgiving Day" in Plymouth, Massachusetts.

Bulgur Pilaf for Thanksgiving!

Radio stations are brimming with suggestions for Thanksgiving dishes, but none as delicious as our old standby, bulgur pilaf, the food that kept our people alive through the most devastating of circumstances!  

Bulgur pilaf -- Marash Girl's favorite dish, both to prepare and to eat!  And for Thanksgiving, a quick and tasty alternative to potatoes or rice.

How does she do it?  Easy.

Fry up some chopped onions in olive oil or butter or a combination of the two (and if you have the time and the vegetables,  chopped green peppers).  Add a cup of medium bulgur (not fine, not coarse, but medium bulgur -- available at Middle Eastern grocery stores, but usually not in supermarkets where, if you're lucky, you'll find fine bulgur which is used for tabouleh and coarse bulgur which is used for dolma).  Sauté the bulgur with the onions (and peppers, if you've added peppers).  For every cup of bulgur, add somewhat less than 1 cup  of V-8 Juice (yes, V-8 Juice!) and 7/8 cup water, and a lot less if you've added tomatoes. Or use all V-8 juice and no water . . . your taste! Bring mixture to a boil and turn off the heat.  Your bulgur pilaf will be ready in 15 minutes!  A time-saving device would be to sauté all of the ingredients the evening before or the morning of your main event.  Then 15 minutes before serving time, add the V-8 juice.  This is a great and somewhat exotic alternative for those who have vegetarians in the family, but, of course, would not work if your vegetarians or vegans are gluten intolerant!

"What can I bring?"

Marash Girl has to laugh at how many times she has heard this conversation play over the last week--either on a telephone call to herself, in person, or listening in on a conversation being played out on a friend's cell phone . . .

The possibilities offered are always endless . . . and Marash Girl's answer, she being a snob when it comes to cooking . . . is always, "Just bring yourself!"

Of course, playing in the back of her mind is her father's admonition (which she dares not repeat to her friends), "Don't ask, just bring!"

WD40 and the Blackberry

WD40 -- a common household word at the homestead in Newtonville . . . And apparently in Springfield as well.  

Marash Boy recounts the following 21st Century use for WD40.

"Who would think that my ancient Blackberry roller could be repaired by WD40? Stuck only going sideways and down, i couldn't make it roll upward, until I remembered my cousin George and father-in-law's favorite "solution":  WD 40.  My Blackberry roller works perfectly now!"

Slow Cooked Turkey Breast for 10

Turkey cooked in a slow cooker?  Never heard of it, never thought of it, and in fact, it sounded disgusting, but there she was with some interesting ingredients and no time, so why not try it?  She did and she was glad!  Here's what she did:

5 or 6 pound turkey breast
2 large onions, peeled and cut in half
3 large sweet potatoes, washed, unpeeled and cut in half
3 cups organic all natural apple cider
juice of 3 limes
turmeric, curry, cajun spice (or hot pepper), fresh basil

Place turkey and vegetables in slow cooker; cover with spices.  Pour apple cider (or wine, if you have no apple cider) and juice of 3 fresh limes.

Cook in slow cooker on high for one hour; lower to low for 6 hours.

Above was purely experimental.  What to cook for supper?  Look around -- what's in the vegetable bin, what's in the fridge, what kind of time do you have to prepare?

The answers to those questions resulted in the above concoction which turned out to fill the house with a heavenly aroma all day, and feed the appetite with a most delicious treat at supper time.

Training kids the old country way

The old days may not be as lovely as we would like to think . . .  Many examples, for sure, but the few that come to mind at the moment . . .

In Marash, the folks put soil in kids diapers for absorbing their kid's poop.  

To toilet train early (often by 9 months) a blown out match (or a lit cigarette) would be applied to the child's bottom whenever the diaper was soiled. Hence mothers-in-law felt free to criticize their U.S. born daughters-in-law if the grandchildren had not been toilet-trained before the children had learned to talk or walk!

That's enough of that!  On to tomorrow and more lovely thoughts.

REMEMBERING JFK - 11/22/63

Do you remember where you were at the moment of the tragic news of JFK's assassination? Marash Girl does, as do the 33 other folks who were with her listening to the unexpected crackling of the never before heard from PA system . . .

May God rest his soul . . .

A friend remembers Joan Scully Metz . . .

Joan was a special soul, for sure, tender, fierce, intelligent, caring, impish, funny, authentic.  Life was better for anyone who was fortunate enough to have crossed paths, however briefly(as in my case) but that IS the point of a life well lived. The lasting imprint(s) one leaves on this short journey. 

Need your eyes examined? Look again!

A cruel joke? . . . Administration's way of increasing business? . . . Walking into Visual Services (better known as the eye doctor's office), Marash Girl thought that her eyes were playing tricks on her!  She had never before had a problem looking at prints and paintings hanging on the wall, but here she was in the outer offices of the eye doctors and she couldn't see clearly . .  Now YOU take a look at these prints!  It's not the camera, and no, it's NOT your eyes!

Marking the 150th Anniversary of Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address . . .

All the dignitaries in Springfield had gathered, and as Karoun passed, curious about the reason for all the assembled, she learned that the assembled dignitaries had just concluded a 150 year commemoration of the  deliverance by Abraham Lincoln of his famous Gettysburg Address.

The Gettysburg Address? Marash Girl asked her daughter.  The very words brought to mind standing next to her parents double bed early on Sunday mornings, attempting to commit this unrhyming address to memory.

All the other kids in third grade got to recite cute, short little poems; even Clinton Shaw got to recite Casey at the Bat (which earned him no end of credits with the 3rd grade boys -- especially David Seeley who was Claflin School's "Casey at the Bat" . . . ) but Marash Girl had to memorize the Gettysburg Address because of its historic significance -- the reunification of that which had been almost irretrievably torn asunder.

The Gettysburg Address . . . Four Score and Seven Years Ago . . . Marash Girl still remembers all these years later (although not quite four score and seven years later!)

Dunkin' Donuts, 1950

Having coffee across the bridge yesterday, Marash Boy called attention to the vintage photo on the wall.  "There's still a donut shop that looks just like that in West Springfield, Massachusetts," he said.  "Without the vintage cars parked in front, of course!"

Moon over Copley Square

Waiting for the 504 bus after attending  the Boston Antiquarian Book Fair (which, by the way, has its final day today at the Hynes Convention Center on Boylston Street in Copley Square and is highly worthwhile),  Marash Girl looked up. [Photos by Marash Girl]

A look back at the Boston Book Festival . . . And at RH, books readied to be burned

Copley Square & Trinity Church on the second day of the Boston Book Festival ( October 17-19, 2013).

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 On the steps of the Boston Public Library:  Bob Oakes of WBUR, and a presenter at the Boston Book Festival,  greets Marash Girl

Bob Oakes of WBUR with his wife at the entrance to the Boston Public Library

Shahan Mufti autographs his first book, THE FAITHFUL SCRIBE, after his presentation at the Boston Book Festival.

Small publishers' stalls were arrayed around Copley Square, providing hope for the yet unpublished writer!

An old timer rests in front of one of the publisher's stalls.

AND ACROSS BOYLSTON STREET, AT RH,  the contemporary coffee table book?  Tear off the covers and the spine, leaving the title page showing, and tying them up with brown twine -- 

What's that?  Looks like kindling to me!  But on closer look . . . 
Books with covers and spines removed, rolled up
and readied for . . . 

What happened to these books?  Are they fodder for the fire?

Was this some kind of a joke?  What interior designer came up with the idea of using books for kindling?

Will Wikipedia have to add RH's contemporary decor to its list of book-burning incidents?

Islamicized Armenians?

Marash Girl was interested to read the following in the Armenian Weekly:  "In early November, the Hrant Dink Foundation held a conference on “Islamicized Armenians” at the Istanbul Bosphorus University, breaking one more taboo in Turkey. Islamicized Armenians were hitherto a hidden reality, a secret known by many, but which couldn’t be revealed to anyone, whispered behind closed doors but filed in government intelligence offices, and it finally broke free into the public."  The article went on to say that both oral histories and academic papers were used during the discussion.

Marash Girl was particularly interested because, in the 1970's, she and her team of interviewers, under the auspices of the Armenian Library and Museum of America, had taped interviews of over 100 survivors of the Armenian Genocide.  If there ever was any discussion of Islamisization or marriage to a Muslim, the tape had to be turned off, and the admission to the interviewer remain unidentified.

To this day, Marash Girl remembers turning off the tape recorder to hear the tears and shame with which an Armenian Christian woman admitted that her sister had, in order to save her life and the life of her loved ones, married a Turk and had a family.

Marash Girl's father Peter used to relate the fact that if there was ever  love and marriage between a Turk and an Armenian, the couple would never survive . . . they would be murdered in their bed on their wedding night.  By whom? Marash Girl asked.  By the Turks or the Armenians?  Marash Girl's father did not know the answer, although he implied -- or did he actually state -- that it could come from either side.

Peter and Jennie Bilezikian, Calvin Coolidge, Ronald Reagan, John Travolta and Marash Girl

Standing in the family living room and surveying Claflin Park, the cliffs and the meadow directly across the street from the family home, Peter of Marash would say, "I wouldn't go across the street to see the President of the United States."  His wife, Jennie (her ancestors from Aintep) would reply, "I would!"  Of course, Peter didn't have to go across the street to shake the hands of the President of the United States.  Calvin Coolidge, the then President of the United States, and gone across the country and shaken hands with 12 year old Peter at a service in Peter's congregational church in Brighton. (See http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/2010/12/on-not-shaking-hands.html) It was with that philosophical mix that Marash Girl approached the world.  So when she had the opportunity to shake hands with President Ronald Reagan at a fundraiser in Washington, DC, she was thinking, "I wouldn't go across the room to shake hands with the President of the United States!"  That is, until she remembered her mother's response: "I would!"  And so for her mother, Marash Girl walked across the room, and reached her hand over the crowds towards the outstretched hand of Ronald Reagan, the then President of the United States.  He reached over the crowds, grasped Marash Girl's hand, looked in her eyes, and for less than one second, made Marash Girl feel as if she was the only person in the room, standing there, clasping hands with the President of the United States.

And so it was that many years later, not in Washington, DC, but in Nonantum, Newton, Massachusetts, that Marash Girl had the courage to call out to John Travolta, and John Travolta dutifully walked over to Marash Girl, put his arm around her, and posed for the photographer with Marash Girl.  (See yesterday's blog post.) But John Travolta, kind as he was, was not "there" with Marash Girl; unlike Ronald Reagan, John Travolta was already on stage, waiting to deliver his next lines. . . But then John Travolta was not attending his own fund raiser, nor is he President of the United States . . . yet!